Title: A Mother's Child
Rating: PG
Spoilers: All Episodes are fair game
Summary: Based on the title, I bet you can guess where this fic is going. Basically, Ashley growing up through Helen's eyes.
Author's Notes: There are a bunch of these parts that I am working on. If you like this one let me know, and I'll working faster on the other. But comments of any kind equal love.
Disclaimer: These are not my characters, I just play with them. No copyright infringement intended.
Part 1:
The crying echoed from across the hall. Helen Magnus had been waiting for it. Their schedule had been completely disrupted by the change in time zone. They had returned from London, where Ashley was born, almost two weeks ago and she hadn't quite adjusted yet. Helen paused for another minute or two hoping her daughter would settle down on her own. Helen knew she wouldn't. She would normally have waited a little longer, but Ashley had barely had any of her bottle before being put to bed.
Helen pushed the chair away from the little desk in her bedroom. She pulled a silk dressing gown over her shoulders. She crossed the corridor barefoot and eased open the nursery door. The crying softened. Ashley knew she had her mother's attention. In the sliver of light from the hall, Helen looked into the crib. Ashley looked back and waved her arms impatiently. Helen rubbed her belly. It didn't help. The volume increased again.
"All right, little one, you win," Helen soothed.
She lifted her baby to her shoulder. The remainder of her bottle was downstairs. She shifted the little weight into the crook of her arm. Ashley clutched the hem Helen's robe. Still barefoot, Helen made her way down to the next level, and into the kitchen. It was industrial sized with a huge stove range and walk-in-refrigerator. It took a lot to feed the Sanctuary. She walked past both appliances. Her focus was on the smaller refrigerator in the back. She pulled it open. This was her stash. Formula, fresh vegetables from the garden, lunchmeat, leftover biscuits, and Ashley's bottle from earlier.
Once it was warmed up, Helen moved to her office on the same level. She settled in the sofa facing the smoldering fire. The fire bathed the room in soft light. The Sanctuary was quiet tonight. Her staff seemed to be working very hard to keep it that way for her return.
Ashley was still fusing and she greedily accepted the bottle. Helen loved the little snorting noises her daughter made while eating. When she had finally decided to go through with this, to bring her child into the world, she could not have imagined feeling this way. It was silly; she knew every parent felt like this. Helen's life was so much, well, better. The weight of decades of loss was lessened when she held Ashley. The loneliness had been so great.
She cast her eyes around the office. There was so much history. She saw pictures of herself with other scientists, government officials, dignitaries. She found the one she was looking for. The photo was taken six or seven years ago at an archeological dig on an island in Indonesia. Helen stood with a man in front of a ten-foot wall of an ancient temple. The wall was depicting cravings proving the presents of vampires in this part of the world. The man was Roger Sinclair.
He had been her second-in-command, colleague, friend, and occasional lover. Now, he was dead. He had been tall, grey-haired former military man with a sweet Louisiana accent. He had been powerful even though he had been beginning to show his age. He had been intense, passionate yet the kind of man who thought very carefully before doing anything. He had been intelligent and streetwise and kindhearted.
They had been on a mission together in the Amazon. There had been a collapse in a cave they were searching. He had made it all the way to the hospital before succumbing to his injuries. There had been a hope that he might make it; when they finally made it out of the jungle. The heartbreak had been almost too much to bear.
Standing at his funeral, Helen had made the decision. It had been something that had been on her mind more and more all the time. Standing on that chilly morning beside his earth-covered grave, she had decided to bring her child from so long in the past to term. She couldn't stand alone any longer. Roger had been getting old. How many times had been complained of that fact? After every mission, he would collapse in that chair in front of her desk and say, "I'm getting too old for this shit."
He had been getting older and she was staying exactly the same. If he had been younger, maybe he would have been able to get out of the way of those falling rocks, or heal from his injuries. Another life, another dear friend, lost. Helen knew everyone assumed Roger was Ashley's father. She didn't discourage the rumor. Ashley's real father would remain a secret. She knew her staff would not ask questions, or anyone else for that matter. Even the announcement she was pregnant had come with little comment. They had all been too shocked. Finally, the congratulations started but no one asked anything beside did she think the baby was a girl or a boy.
She had left for England a few months later. She had retreated to James Watson's presents. Another dear friend and one who understood the feeling of a human living far beyond what was natural. Though, for James, it was by choice. But he still knew what it was like for her. He knew her secrets as well. There was a small apartment in a little used wing of the London Sanctuary. Ashley had been born there. James had been her first visitor.
After paying the appropriate attention to the newborn, James had handed her back to her mother, who sat propped up against pillows in bed. He had studied her for a moment as Helen had adjusted Ashley's swaddling.
"She is not Roger's child, is she?"
Helen continued to fuss with the blanket, and didn't response or even look up. Her face had set into a grime smile. Her child was perfect, healthy and in her arms, finally. James was being up the one thing Helen didn't want to think about. For such a keen observer and such a close friend, she had expected him to ask this question much earlier.
"John Druitt?" he had asked.
After another pause, she answered with a simple, "Yes."
"Oh, Helen," he said, softly. He looked as if he was going to continue, but stopped himself. He placed a hand briefly on her shoulder. "I'll leave you two to rest. She's beautiful."
That was four months ago. Even with the crazy sleep schedule, Helen was finding it good to home. She had not expected to miss it so much. It was longest she had ever been away, by far. Being back in her own bed, her own office, and now with little Ashley across the hall, everything was right. It was a cliché and she knew it, but it was the absolute truth.
The baby had fallen back to sleep in her arms. Helen just held her, half afraid to move in case she woke, half just never wanting the moment to ever end. The fire burned lower. The old house groaned in a reassuring way. She watched Ashley sleeping.
Helen's work was important. There were scientific advances; she helped those who counted on the Sanctuary's refuge. She never imagined how trivial it would feel compared to holding her child. She had waited for over a century. She was amazed at how quickly everything had changed. Her work had always been paramount, but only hours after finding out she was pregnant, her thinking shifted. The little heartbeat she had been carrying had become more significant than anything else in the universe. No exceptions.
Helen felt her eyes beginning to close. With a deep sigh, she got to her feet, and left her office, pushing the door shut with a foot. She had taken a few steps down the hall when the floorboards creaked behind her.
"Don't get scared," a voice said in a half whisper.
She couldn't help it; she spun on the spot. He had come out of nowhere. Barney Black stood in the passage frozen in place. He had not meant to frighten her. Barney was her technical, computer, security, weapons, gadget support. He spent more of this time in a cramped lab off the main room. The space would not have been so cramped if not for the two work tables, and floor to ceiling shelves filled with broken, fixed, unusable, might-be-useful-one-day bits and pieces of weapons and technology.
Barney had been working for her for years and years. He was wiry and always reminded Helen of a bird. He was never still, but always observing, monitoring. His freckled face belied his ornery personality. Barney worked much better with machines, than most people, and as he got older this quality was getting worse. He was extremely smart and had very little time for those below his intelligence. He had a deep respect for Helen and her work; a respect she shared.
"Barney," she said with relief.
"It's only me, bad timing, I guess," he stared to say aloud, but lowered his voice after catching sight of the sleeping baby. "Sorry," he added.
"It's fine. She is very much asleep," she said with a smile, matching his whisper.
"Still not used to our schedule?" he asked.
"I'm afraid not. Why are you up so late? Is there something wrong?"
"There was a problem with a new arrival, the humanoid lizard, we decided to call Steve. It has been a long time since he has lived with a roof above his head, and he's having some, um, issues."
"Anything I can do?" she asked.
"Nope, the Big Guy and I are working on. All you need to worry about right now is that baby."
Helen was surprised by his sentiment. Barney usually a hands off kind of man; he normally would have jumped at any help offered. She smiled gently, "I don't need any special treatment. I'm perfectly capable—"
"I'm not questioning your ability, Magnus," he interrupted. "Hell, I think motherhood suites you and makes you a force to be reckoned with. She needs your time more than we do. I'm just trying to make it easier."
"You don't have to worry about us," she answered.
"I know I don't have to. What you are missing is that I want to be worried about you. We're a family here. I'm going to be this kid's favorite uncle. I don't want you to have to do this alone."
But that is exactly what she was doing. She was doing this alone. She was a hundred and thirty-three years old. She had watched everyone she knew fade away. She had buried so many people. Her only hope in this world was that this child would help ease that ache. Was she setting herself up of a far greater pain? What would happen if she outlived her child? This was her choice; this was burden. She was counting on all the moments in between. She was relying on the others to help run the Sanctuary, but this child was hers. Her decision, and Ashley was her responsibility, alone. She couldn't explain this to Barney. She couldn't articulate it.
She settled for, "Thank you, Barney. You don't know how much that means to me."
There was another lull in the conversation. Finally, Barney inclined his head, "Well, good night, Magnus."
Helen watched him proceed down the passage before turning to opposite direction. She went upstairs, and settled Ashley back in her crib. She watched her baby sleeping for another minute or so. Helen was already so proud of her little girl. She had had a feeling she would have a daughter while she was pregnant. She had just known, what some would call mother's intuition. Ashley was going to be smart, and strong. She didn't have a choice; it was in her blood. She was going to be the companion Helen had been looking for all these long years. Helen couldn't wait to begin teaching her daughter, watching her grow up. Helen smiled to her self as she finally moved towards the door, another cliché: every day would be a gift.
"Good night, my darling," she whispered as she slipped from the room.