There was a facility in Southern Italy operated by a woman she had taken under her wing in the late-nineties. She had funded its operation since Mariana had opened the doors. Ordinarily, when a Sanctuary agent survived long enough to grow old, they were transferred into Mariana's care to live out the remainder of their days in peace. He was no ordinary operative though. He was Will, her Will; so Helen had neglected to make the proper arrangements.
Instead, she had hired a live-in medical staff to care for him when she was unable to. She spent every spare moment she had in his quarters, even some not-so-spare moments; she hated to leave him, dreaded those times when it was necessary. Whatever time they had left together, she wanted to spend it at his side.
Some days, they would fall into the familiar banter she had come to rely on over the years; other days, he didn't even recognize her. Those days were the most difficult. She sat, holding his hand tightly, listening to him tell stories from his time in the system as silent tears slid down her cheeks, splashing onto their joined hands. His beautiful mind had long ago succumbed to the rigors of age. Those days, seeing what had become of him was almost too much for Helen to bear. Those days, Helen left his room in the early hours of the morning, long after he'd fallen asleep, and curled into her own bed, entire body aching, as she wept. She was losing him; day by day, minute by minute, he was slipping away from her.
She was on a mission in Old City, in the middle of the worst storm of the year, when she got the call. It was time. Reaching for the nearest member of her team, she caught his arm, pulling him close. Her voice was soft, barely more than a whisper, "I have to go."
Releasing the young man, she turned, sprinting through the rain to her van. They knew, of course. They all knew, but not one of them dared breathe a word of it in her presence. He was the one subject she refused to speak about; there was no need for them to know, and Will deserved his peace. However, as she drove into the night, they all knew they would be looking at a different woman come morning.
When she slipped into his quarters, it was with a heavy heart, knowing this was the last time she would be coming to see him. She dismissed the medical staff with a quiet, "Thank you," standing just inside the doorway long after they had left. This would be their last night together.
Crossing to the bed, Helen sat on the edge, taking his hand in both of hers, smiling down at him despite the tears threatening to fall. She knew he had worried about what this day would do to her; he would not have to watch her cry, not tonight.
"You could have changed into dry clothes first. You're cold and slimy," he complained mildly, voice raspy.
This time, her smile was genuine as she chuckled lightly; today was a good day. "I wanted to be with you," she murmured, shifting to run gentle fingers through his steel gray hair. Leaning down to plant a light kiss on his forehead, she whispered against rough skin, "I miss you when I'm away."
He accepted her answer with a nod, choosing not to pursue the real reason behind it. They both knew what was happening; but right now, he just wanted to know she was there, that he would not be alone.
His grip was weak, but she felt his fingers curl around her hand, nonetheless; and her tears nearly breached their careful containment.
"You're exhausted, Will. You should try to rest," she said shakily, trying to fill the silence, cursing the vulnerability she could hear in herself.
Dull blue eyes met her gaze, and she caught a faint glimmer of their former spark. "Lay with me," he instructed.
Nodding jerkily, she released his hand, rounding the bed, so she could slip under the covers next to him. Rolling onto her side, she rested her head on his chest, tangling their fingers together over his stomach. "I'm here, Will. Now, close your eyes," she whispered tenderly.
Relaxed by her steady presence, he easily complied. Helen lay silently, feeling each breath grow shallower, hearing his heart slow, until finally, both gave way altogether. Wrapping her arms tightly around his still body, Helen Magnus cried.