Title : Discoveries and Consequences
Fandom : Sanctuary
Author : DiBee
Summary : The worst days of one's life are usually the darkest, and better spent with one trust friend. That Helen had understood after she confronted John in Whitechapel that night. Here comes what could have been next. Reflexion on Helen/John, very slight implied James/Nikola.
Rating : T, to be safe
Spoiler : None, or none that I know of^^
Disclaimer : Nothing is mine and my only purpose is (free) entertainment.
Author's note : My take on what 'could have been next' that night, written after having read far too much about the Ripper case (though I didn't include any detail related to what I have read (even though it was my first intention, I didn't make it there^^)
Extra Note : English is not my first language, though one of my passions.
She could barely breathe as she walked quickly down the darkened streets, making sure not to be seen. As soon as she reached a point she judged far enough from the corpse, she hailed a cab hurrying in the deserted highway. Once inside, she did her best to regain composure after having thrown the driver a familiar address.
She needed to talk to him. She needed to explain. She needed someone to plan future with. She needed a place to stay, at least for the rest of the night, that she would probably spend walking through her friend and colleague's smoky living room. She needed rationality. James Watson was the best person to go to. She knew she wouldn't be able to face her father at such point.
She paid the fare and stepped down, hoping her friend had heard the stopping of the car and would come to her. She wasn't surprised when he did, his sort of sixth sense was of use most of the times, this time more than ever.
« Helen ! »
He looked surprised at her pale face and worried features. He could tell she had, and still was fighting tears, but her lifting her chin clearly indicated the control she was trying to regain. He let her in and closed the door behind her, leading her to the familiar living room. She spotted his violin lying on the dining table and worried for a second she may have interrupted some of his 'moments', but she knew the matter she had came in with was of importance.
She didn't wait for him to offer her a seat, and nearly fell on the nearest chair, unable to keep her face straight any more. She realized a second too late she had chosen the seat John usually took, and felt a tear coming down her cheek before she could even stop it. James sat, getting his chair closer to hers, and silently pleaded her to tell the reason of her visit.
« I guess I have solved one of your enigmas, my dear Watson » she went, trying to ignore the salty track on her cheek as well as the regret in her own voice.
« Helen, please, explain yourself! »
Their experiment had lead to many late visits, but that one was never planned, and she acted so distressed he couldn't but wonder what had happened.
She looked up at him, and spilled out the words that hurt so much.
« I know who Jack the Ripper is, James »
He could not avoid the sadness in her eyes, nor the resignation, and though his gifts had allowed him much insights in many situation, this one was none he could decipher.
« Helen, what had happened, what are you talking about, do you think this is linked to any of your father's work? » he asked, concern clear in his voice, noticing the faint shiver of her hands, clenched on a handkerchief he hadn't seen where it had came from.
« James, this had nothing to do with Father's work, it has with... » She paused, catching her breath, unable to really say it out loud. « It is my work. »
She just couldn't spill it, not even to one of her closest friend, the smartest of all men she had ever encountered, and a brilliant mind, who hadn't seen it coming any more than she had.
He froze, unsure what to understand.
« Helen.... » He had doubt in his voice, not quite envisioning the message she was trying to get to him. « Did you talk to John? » It seemed like the more logical question to ask at the moment, and hell if he had seen what came next.
She stood up, looking more devastated than he had ever seen her, gesturing at him as if showing him the truth lying before his eyes.
« James, for Godness' sake, it is John. From the very beginning. » Her cry had him jump, not so much by its intensity but by its content as the realization slightly surfaced.
« No, that is just not possible, Helen, you know him ever better than I do, he would never do such a thing. He... » He stopped, everything suddenly adding.
« No, no, Helen! » He rushed toward her as he noticed her shiver getting worse.
« I have confronted him, James. I shot, but he was gone before the bullet reached him, though it is nowhere to be found. He has killed that girl in front of me, James. There was no trace of the man we thought we knew in his eyes. This goes way beyond dementia, … I felt like he was surfacing all that at times, then I lost him. Entirely. I do not know, James. I do not know what to do, who to tell, who to turn to. There is just too much under it all. And none of us actually saw any of that. I cannot actually believe we were all here no sooner than a week ago, talking about this 'case' how you two call it. He was giving you leads. Maybe he wanted to be caught. God... » He had her sitting, and realized what an ordeal she had had to go through.
« Nikola is supposed to arrive shortly, do you want me to ask for a better time? »
She shook her head, and looked at her friend again. « As insufferable as he can be, and as many disdain he can have toward John, I think it can actually be useful in this. We have to go through all that happened, methodically. And I doubt I can do that. Him being who he is could help us, you, see what we cannot from our place. »
He nodded, and wondered how she could stay this rational after such a shock. Human mind was an eternal secret. He knew how tough the woman facing him could be, and didn't doubt it was one of her system of defence, but loosing her fiancé in such conditions was an awful event to go through.
They heard a cab stop right before the windows, and a faint knock before the main door opened. As the newcomer stepped in the room, he couldn't but see Helen's state of shock, but chose to ignore it, knowing her presence and state would shortly be explained. Instead, he stated what he had just learned. And would quickly wish he had not.
"They have uncovered another Ripper victim. Cut throat. You are without a doubt to be called out soon, James." His semi-sarcastic tone was too much to take for the woman sitting in front of him.
"Nikola, please, do not." She gulped. "We are not talking about that. Or actually, we need to, but definitely not for the "beauty"" she emphasized the word "of the riddle." She had stopped shaking, but her face expressed nothing but distress.
Her interlocutor was ready to answer when a glance of his friend stopped him. Instead, he chose another way for the discussion to go. Or so he thought.
"So, where is John? He seemed to have pretty good ideas, last time he visited"
He had not expected the laugh coming from Helen, James sighing, looking like he actually wanted to slap him, well aware it would not do any good to any of them.
"Nikola, why do you not quit talking for a few minute so that you can hear of the last event." Watson's tone was calm, yet it was no suggestion but an order. Helen's nervous laugh had changed into faint sobs, and she had closed her eyes, as if it could cut her from the reality surrounding her. She couldn't quite realize they were having this conversation. Or actually, lack of such.
"If you agree to spare us with your 'I told you so' line, I am willing to explain it all." Helen stated, having taken a deep breath, her eyes still close.
She could not see Nikola's look of astonishment, but he sat down, and actually waited for her to begin. He was not to promise anything, but kept in mind she was a friend, and so was Watson, even though she had clearly delayed their plans.
"John and Jack the Ripper are the same person, at least physically. One would actually need more insight to actually determine what mental issue there is here. But that's not the point, yet. He is gone. Or so I think. I followed him, tonight. All the way to Whitechapel. I don't know it he actually let me in an attempt to be caught, or was so obsessed with his goal that he actually hadn't seen me. He... He actually killed her in front of my eyes. Challenged me to stop him. I shot way to late, and he was half gone already. The bullet seems to have disappeared with him, so wherever he lands, he will surely be, at least, injured. He was not the man we all knew. Some of him maybe was, but it was like something was missing. Or something was added, blurring his mind and sight, I can't truly tell. I realized once I understood where he was heading that we could have seen it. Yet, what now?"
If her voice has been shaking at first, it had become steadier as she went through the fresh memories, her eyes on a spot between her two friends, trying to sort everything out. She had loved, still did, and agreed to marry, a mass murderer. None of her medical formation could have prepared her for such a shock, not even all experiment and 'abnormalities' she had encountered.
She looked up to glance at both men, lost in thoughts. If it was not uncommon for the doctor, it certainly was for the physician, who hadn't surprisingly thrown any of his usual cutting remarks. She let her mind wander for a second too much, and some other dots connected in her head. Dangerous dots. Both men had set up a meeting in the middle of the night. No work meeting, or she would otherwise have known about it. Their current positions were quite telling, and in a flash she realized there was more than conventional between the two men. She stiffened and wondered what to do next : stay and try to understand it all, or leave and take a rest. Such a realization only brought to light how distracted she had acted lately, and she couldn't but question her own work : has she been as wrong with her patient than with her lover and friends ?
She missed having someone to talk to about her concerns and medical interrogation already, and realized John wouldn't, ever, be able to witness her worries and tell her to carry on with what she thought was right. In one single night, it had all changed. None of them had been too talkative, let alone for the last week which had been busy for all of them for their own reason (bad, in his case, she feared) and she realized how little she could tell of his 'dark side'. It was both scary and reassuring. He had protected her from himself, yet it had hurt all the same to discover the truth, if not more.
She faced her friends, and knew she also had to face the fate she had never truly believed in. She would have to reorganise everything. She was no longer the first woman doctor, cherished daughter and promised to a well-educated man. She would mourn his loss, which would very likely have repercussions on her work as well. They would all have to act and take care of what should be. The murder, to begin with, covering his tracks if necessary, lead the police to drop the case now that it had nothing more to be added. They would have to explain everything, and question their own responsibilities in it, from their experiment with the source blood to his possibly already present mental condition. After all, his mother was known for being mentally unstable, and it was the kind of illness they knew little about and which couldn't be deciphered as easily as physical evidence.
The future suddenly felt blurry and full of shadows that were far from reassuring. They had a long way to go to cope with all the situation they probably still underestimated. But they would do it together. Or at least her friends will, as she would also have to deal with her father's reaction, and truth she couldn't but keep to herself. There was still too much of him she couldn't quite tell about. A secret that would stay theirs, and thus maybe forever. Their binding would linger, with all consequences it could have, but there was nothing more she could do to rule him more out of her life than she already had, nor anything she could allow herself to.
It was all to be dealt with, discoveries and consequences.