Author's Note: Hmm... let's see. This chapter mentions the events of the episode 'Normandy' and it occurs before the events of the Worth storyline. Maybe somewhere in season two or three, I'm vague on that point. I've tried to stay in canon, but you'll have to tell me if I succeeded. I also make the assumption that Magnus left James' side sometime between 1945, after the meeting with the Nazi High Command and 1951 when she took bullets from the Big Guy, based on what was already set up by the show. My thoughts are that the start of the separation took place sometime shortly after the events of Normandy, based on their reactions during the episode. So I gave it my best shot and apologize if it doesn't turn out to be that way in the show. This chapter is mostly just for set-up. James is in it and mentioned throughout, but don't expect to see much of him beyond this.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Prologue: A Hard Goodbye

London, England: June 1944-

Helen Magnus sighed as she shrugged her coat off. She felt drained and saddened, much as she always felt when she saw John but multiplied a thousand times by everything they had just accomplished and endured. She wished that Nigel was still with her. He always knew how to cheer her up. However, she also understood his decision to stay behind in France. If you found someone you wanted to hang onto, she had learned that that was exactly what you had to do. It was dangerous, but she was fairly confident in the ability of the 'Invisible Man' to keep himself from too much harm.

When she had accompanied her injured friend, James Watson, back to London and away from the front lines in Normandy, she had left him briefly to check in with Nikola in Portsmouth, at the headquarters of the Allied Expeditiary Force. She had been waylaid by General Eisenhower for several hours, to report on their mission. Now, she was searching James out again, as he had departed from the hospital she had left him in. Admittedly, she was worried. The journey back from France had been filled with a silence that ached and gnawed at her edges. She supposed in was unavoidable. Though she had no idea what had been said between the two, she knew that James and John had exchanged words, and she knew she had acted a little too desperately when John had been shot. The thrill of fear spiking from her chest into her voice had not gone unnoticed. This was only to be expected since he was one of the most perceptive analytical minds she had ever encountered. She could feel the distance that James had placed back between them. So here she was, in his old home in London where they had not set foot in many years. It did instill an element of calm back into her soul to see the elegance of her dear Britannia again. Even though she knew the respite would not last for long. She was a doctor and doctors were in desperate need everywhere in war-torn Europe. Besides that, she was sure that shortly she would be on the receiving end of another summons from General Eisenhower.

Ethel Linaman still worked here as the maid though she was twenty-seven now and should have vacated her position long ago. It could be because of some sense of loyalty, as Ethel's mother had held the position for many years before her. It made sense that the girl might need the money, though, too. The second World War had so far been long and hard, and everyone looked as waif-like as Helen sometimes felt, especially after seeing John again. She supposed she should just be grateful that the dutiful girl was here. As the honey-haired young woman took the coat and hat from Helen's hands, the thickly accented voice issuing from her mouth asked if she was looking for Dr. Watson and if she needed to be shown to where he was.

Helen declined. She knew why he had come to this place, and it wasn't simply because they were in London again. Therefore, she also knew where to find him.

His drawing room was hushed. The old chairs were still in place, the same dusty old tomes in bookcases lining the walls. His desk had not been moved an inch. The place was relatively clean, thanks to the young Linaman girl, but it still held an air of disuse. The clock on the mantle ticked quietly. As she closed the door behind her, her heart leapt into her throat. This was going to hurt them both and she knew it. For a moment, she hesitated, wondering if this was a completely inappropriate time, but if not now, then when? Just because the invasion had worked and the Allied troops were flooding into France, didn't mean that the war was over. With General Eisenhower relying on her expertise and hospitals all over the country to be staffed, she might not get another chance for some years to come. Slowly, her movements measured, she sat in the unoccupied chair beside James, then finally turned slightly to face him.

Her friend was sitting forward, his elbows on his knees. He was staring into space, his expression haunted.

After taking a deep breath, she spoke. "Are you still in pain?" She eyed the device on his chest and the bullet wound in his leg.

He shifted. "I'll be fine."

The hush reasserted itself. Only the tiny, almost indiscernible whine of his body suit occupied the stale air. Hesitation stilled her thoughts again. She knew why she had come in here, but now that she was here, she couldn't make herself say the words.

It was he that saved her the trouble. "You still love him." James said shallowly.

Helen narrowed her eyes at him, her expression kind but unyielding. "As do you."

When the man spoke again, his voice was thick and strangled, as though he was forcing the words past a block in his throat. "We're never going to be rid of him, are we? Even if his wound kills him, his presence will always haunt us."

"He always has." She whispered. She folded her hands in her lap. "James, you always have been and always will be very dear to me. However, we both know we have grown too comfortable with each other. We needed to heal, which necessitated a very close relationship. Even an intimate one, but we both knew that aspect was not a lasting one."

There was a pause, one aching with things going unsaid and the underlying meaning to seemingly even the very breaths they were taking. "I wanted it to be. Hoped." He said softly.

Her answering smile was sad. "As did I. However, the things we have shared; the pain, heartache, betrayal... it is too much to forget. After John... well," She took a deep breath. He was watching her sadly as she laid her soul bare for him to see. "-afterward, I was devastated. My heart was shattered into simply too many pieces, strewn across the floor and everyone could do naught but grind it into dust beneath their heels. They didn't understand, nor could they." It wasn't the first time she had spoken this candidly to him, but she owed this to him, for all that he had done for her. For all that he had tried to do. "You were in a similar state, I know. John was your best friend. You loved him as much as I. We picked up the pieces of each other's hearts because we were unable to pick up that of our own." She smiled at him gratefully, though she knew it could never fully express just how she felt. "You saved me, James."

By his answering smile though, he seemed to think it was enough.

She continued before she lost her nerve. "You showed me that we still were capable of feeling a passion for life. Of having passion in our lives. You spent years giving me unconditional love and tenderness, fitting the shards back together like a jigsaw puzzle. For that, I will be forever grateful."

James hung his head, again seeming to read her mind and understand the double entendre. "And I to you, my dearest Helen."

Her stomach clenched so that her next words were a bit strangled. "We supported one another, James, much like the string and stakes used in a garden. It is necessary for support during the early stages to prevent crooked growth. The same holds true for splints on a broken bone. Leave it attached too long though, and it restricts further growth. I love you, I always shall, but we both know we have grown complacent. We've gotten too used to each other. I am restricting your growth."

His eyes closed on the reality, but he could not ignore it. "And I yours." She could not begrudge him the bitterness of that statement. She felt it herself. "So, what, then?

"We continue on in our efforts in this war till its completion. I have to believe that it will end some day. We've plenty to keep us busy in the coming months. Afterward, well... If we're still alive, I would like you to run the Sanctuary here. You are far too set in your ways to ever leave."

That earned her a chuckle.

She looked around the room, at the familiar surroundings that she would miss. Then at the person she would miss the most. "I will go back to the West, across the ocean. I have- needed a change for quite some time now. I think it will do me good. There are... too many memories here now to stay. As for you and I..." She hesitated again.

"We will remain the dearest of friends and colleagues." His smile was as sad as hers as he set a hand on those folded in her lap. "I hardly know what will become of me though, without you beside me, lover, colleague or anything else."

"I feel the same." She chuckled in mock lightness. "But then, we've known each other for over sixty years. We built this Sanctuary together. My fathers dream could never have been realized without you." She reached up and placed her hand on his arm. "Though I will be an ocean away, you know I shall always come if you call. When you need me, I will be there."

"The same holds true for you, my dear. Forever and always." He took her hand and kissed it.

Helen stood to leave, setting a gentle, caressing palm to his cheek as a silent goodbye. It hurt too much to speak. They both knew there were no words capable of expressing so much in such a narrow space of time, but this contact seemed to say it all. Just before she pulled the door closed behind her though, she heard his voice break the silence once again.

"I hope you find happiness again, Helen."

She couldn't answer, her throat too closed by emotion. The door's click as it closed was loud and echoing in the still air.