Summary: John appears on the grounds of the Sanctuary with no memory other than his name and the new power he holds. A/U and Xover with the move Blood and Chocolate

Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sanctuary or the movie Blood and Chocolate.

Rating: T+

Pairing: Helen and John.

DISTANT MEMORIES:

Pain exploded in his head, in his chest; it exploded all over his body until an eerie howl of agony was ripped from his throat. He was once again whole, once again in the mortal world. But he couldn't remember anything other than his name; Montague. Looking around with new eyes he saw stars, stone walls, cobblestones. He rolled to his knees wrapping his arms around his shivering body. Where was he? Why was he here? Why did his body hurt so much? Montague didn't know and that scared him. Something was wrong, something he had no way of fixing. Another howl bubbled up from his chest spilling out of his mouth to alert the night of the anguish he was feeling.

HELEN'S OFFICE:

Helen was sitting at her desk finishing up paper work when an ominous howl broke the serenity of the night. "What in Gods name?" she moved from her desk quickly going to the window to look down into the courtyard. In the dark she saw a figure but she couldn't make out much more than that.

"Helen!" Nikola came through the open door looking at Helen standing at the window, "Did you…?" The Sanctuary was eerie enough at night without the sounds of a wolf howling. And that was exactly what it had been; a wolf. Nikola knew that sound better than anything else.

"Yes, I heard it." She pointed out the window to the figure lying once again on her cobblestone drive way. "I think the sound came from our mysterious guest down there." Helen could hardly keep the excitement out of her voice. Things around her Sanctuary had been far too quiet for far too long. She needed a new mystery to work out, to solve.

"We should not go out there. That was a wolf's howl. Wolves generally don't…" Nikola tried to talk Helen out of going outside. He already knew that she was going to and he needed to stop her.

"Then don't come with me," Helen smiled grabbing for a flashlight and her gun. Having what she needed she set out for the front doors to greet the new guest.

Outside in the pitch black Helen brought the flash light to life with a light click and trained the light on the back of the figure on his knees. The man was pale with a cross hatch of whip marks on his back tapering down into the waist band of the leather pants he was wearing. She even saw blood. "Dear Lord." Helen rushed to the side of the man seeing the last face she had ever expected to see. "John?"

Montague heard when the doors had opened. His whole body went rigid with the knowledge that someone was watching him. Again the questions bombarded his mind. Still he kept his body still and waited to see if the human was friend or foe. Would he have to fight? Then a scent reached him and some how he knew it, but he didn't know how. That scent, the gentle all consuming smell of roses, lulled him putting him totally at ease. It was the name that drew him; her voice was soft as she called him John. He couldn't remember the name but the woman at his side was familiar. "Do I know you?" Montague mumbled moving back from her. He wasn't used to the human body he had been forced back into and he stumbled, landing on his back.

Helen put aside any misgivings she might have been feeling upon seeing his face. John was hurt and he needed help. She was a doctor and took an oath to ease the suffering in others. The real trick was coaxing his in the house. John looked like he didn't trust her. "John, you know me. I'm Helen." She held out her hand to him, "Take my hand. It's ok." It was an extreme effort to keep her voice light after everything that had happened between them.

"I don't know you." He said quickly, but his brain pointed out how they sounded the same; the same accent. Maybe, just maybe she knew him. How could she know him when he didn't know himself? Fear was creeping into his body. It was making it easy for the wolf to come foreword to take over. His wolf was pure instinct, pure survival. Montague shook his head backing away even more.

Nikola lingered by the door watching the scene play out before him. If Johnny boy was playing a game then it was very elaborate with top rate acting. It set Nikola on edge, but there was that little voice in the back of his mind that screamed at him that John Druitt wasn't faking. Some thing had fought Druitt and come out victorious over the powerful abnormal. That was enough to worry Tesla. Leaving the safety of the front doors Nikola slowly walked over to where Helen was crouched near Druitt trying to coax him closer to her. The minute he crouched down next to her Druitt growled at him. It was a deadly sound that made Nikola want to back up. "Is he faking it?"

"No," Helen shook her head with her hand still held out to John. The growl confirmed that on some level he knew her and Nikola. "John please, take my hand so I can get you inside. You need medical treatment." Helen doubted that he would reach out to her. He never had in the past.

Montague looked from her hand to the strange man standing next to her. They were both oddly familiar and it unsettled him. Why was he here with them? Out of self disgust Montague growled again. He gained his feet and turned his back on them. Pacing. He needed to pace. It helped in him think better. Montague started a furious back and forth motion while the two strangers watched on in bewilderment. Montague stopped. "How do you know me?" He asked out of puzzlement. The woman seemed familiar to him but he couldn't place her.

"We're your friends." Helen motioned between herself and Nikola. "We want to help you."

"We do?"

"Shut up." Helen snarled. John was talking and she wanted to keep up the foreword momentum. "Please, just take my hand, and we'll go inside." In that moment John reached out to her placing his hand in hers. He was so warm, warmer than she remembered. "There, see, I won't hurt you." Helen added a gentle smile and John returned it. Only his had the hint of mistrust. Deep down that wounded her.

INFIRMARY:

Montague sat on one of the beds smelling the antiseptic and other medical supplies. It made his stomach roll with nausea. He wanted to vomit but fought against it. A cold stinging broke out on his back causing him to hiss in pain. He hadn't realized that his back had been clawed up so badly. "How bad is it?" His voice was a whisper. Exhaustion had settled in to war with the nausea and the mistrust. Montague hoped his mind settled on a feeling soon or he would pass out.

"At first I thought these were whip marks. But now they look like claw marks. What happened to you?" Helen asked as she continued to clean out the deep lacerations of his back. John barely flinched when she started using the peroxide to irrigate the wounds. So much of his strength was ingrained in him. What could have made him forget everything that he was? Maybe it was for the better. If John couldn't remember all the evil that he had done, maybe they had a chance. But did she want that chance? Possibly and then she didn't. This would be the perfect chance to say goodbye to John and all that they were for good. The question was did Helen have the strength to go through with it?

"I don't know." Montague answered shrugging his shoulders. More pain exploded in his back with a thin trail of blood dripping down his flesh. As quick as he could Montague bounded off the bed and backed away from the woman helping him.

Helen hadn't meant to hurt him. She drew her hands back in a flash with John getting off the gurney. He looked as predatory as ever with massive changes to his appearance. At one time his eyes were the clear blue she had been used to. Now they were glowing liquid amber. The eyes seemed to fit into his face better than the blue as they were set against the midnight black of his hair. Everything about John was changed. "I'm sorry."

"It's ok." Montague bowed his head coming back to sit on the gurney. Her touch had been so light, so welcome, that he shouldn't have run away from it. "I guess my wounds are still pretty raw." Montague gathered up his long black hair and twisted it so he could tuck it up through the small band of braids he kept tied together. It was enough that his hair would stay out of the blood. Again her gentle touch worked over his battered back. Montague felt at ease.

Helen set about cleaning out the blood again as gently as she could while studying the small intricate braids in John's hair as well as the beads that adorned the ends of them. "Most of your wounds are on the mend so they shouldn't need bandages." She removed her gloves and used her right hand to stroke the back of John's head. He flinched. John actually flinched at her touch. She drew her hand back again feeling at a loss as to what to do with him. Helen tried another approach. "Do you want to sleep? Or are you hungry?" At the mention of hunger John's stomach growled and she chuckled gently.

Montague had forgotten how hungry he had been until just now when she had mentioned getting something to eat. Food sounded so good to him. Again he stood and this time he stretched feeling the extent of his injuries. By tomorrow his body would be healed, at least he hoped so. "I am famished." Montague turned to her confirming what his stomach already told her. He moved past her towards the door and waited for her.

Helen joined him feeling uneasy as to what to say to him so she mentioned the first thing that came to her mind, "I was admiring the beads in you hair. I've never seen you style your hair like that before." It was the truth. In all the years Helen had known John, even before the blood, he had kept his hair simple tied back in a ribbon. She actually liked the new style he had.

"I think I used to when I was younger, back when I lived in Bucharest." Montague answered and assumed it was the truth. He could remember the streets, the people, and his people like he had just been there yesterday. There was even the face of a man no older than himself tat he was remembering. "I think my cousin Gabriel talked me into this." Still he did not look at her.

"I never met any of your family." Helen wanted to put her hand on his shoulder to get him to look at her but she didn't. She was wary that he would flinch at her touch again. Now she knew what John had felt when she flinched at him. "You always said I was better off not knowing them."

"If I said that, then it must be true." His people didn't exactly welcome humans to know about them; about the Loup-Garrou. It was the fundamental rule he lived by; secrecy. Montague intended for her not to know what he truly was. Humans would love nothing more than to kill his kind if they ever learned that they still roamed the world. The old days were gone.

"Oh," Helen looked away from him gazing at the walls. John was acting closed off, distant. Why was his behavior hurting her? Wasn't this what she wanted? Didn't she want to be free from him? Now that she was getting that, Helen wasn't sure it was what she truly wanted anymore. Helen was still running through her thoughts when she pressed the button to call for the elevator. When the doors opened she walked inside but John didn't follow her. Instead he was growling. Looking up Nikola was waiting there leaving against the wall in the back just staring at John.

Montague backed up growling at the other man. He had been outside staring at him when the woman was trying to coax him inside. There was that feeling again that the other man was someone he knew and didn't like very well. When it came to instincts, Montague was always going to listen to them.

"Geez Johnny boy, you're acting like I'm going to try and kill you." Nikola said splaying his fingers over his heart, "When have I ever done that?" he was lying and he knew it.

"I don't trust you," The growl wouldn't leave his voice and Montague was content to let it rumble in his chest.

"Think twice before you try and attack me." Nikola let his claws extend and his face contort into the face of his race; the vampires. "I'm not so easy to kill." He too growled at Druitt.

Montague backed away letting his body tense. Where had he come to? He looked at the woman and waited for her to say something. Right now he would take his cues from her. It seemed the safest way to survive at the moment until he was strong enough to get back to Romania where he knew he would be safer. She nodded at him. Slowly he moved into the elevator and waited with the warning growl still rumbling in his chest.

"Oh for heavens sake, John stop growling, and Nikola put your claws away." Helen ordered both men. They were acting even more childish than before when John knew who he was. She only shook her head when both men did as they were told.

BEFORE DAWN:

Montague sat on the floor with his back pressed against the wall and his head lowered while his legs were bent at the knee. He had stared at the bed for a few minutes, debating just falling into the inviting covers, but opted against it in favor of sitting on the floor trying to piece together the scattered fragments of his memory. It was there that he fell asleep and hen he was being woke up by the soft scent of roses; her scent. Opening his eyes he watched her come to him in the darkness.

"You do know you can sleep in the bed?" Helen asked sitting down on the floor to face John. He was such a puzzle to her in this state. She wasn't sure she liked him this way or back to his normal self.

"I'm fine on the floor." Montague lowered his head again. Would he go back to sleep? Probably. There was something about he that soothed his soul enough so that he left down his guard; but only for her. Why was that? What power did she hold over him?

"John…"

"That's not my name, so please stop calling me that." Montague snarled. She looked away and he could sense her hurt.

"Then what should I call. I've known you by the name of John for well over 137 years." Helen snapped rising to her feet to move away from him.

"Don't go, I'm sorry," He truly was sorry. Making her angry wasn't what he had meant to do. "Please," Montague stood up. "I just don't remember that name. Call me Montague."

"You always hated your first name." Helen mused looking at him again. Things between them could be new; at least for him. He had no memory of her and she still remembered him. How cruel was that? It made her wonder what John had done.

"I don't remember that. In fact I don't remember a lot of my life. All I know is what I am and my first name." Montague explained.

"What are you?" Helen asked sitting on the edge of the bed. She hadn't had the heart to run a DNA analysis on John from the blood she had cleaned off of him. It had been tempting, but she would talk to him first.

John lowered his head letting his hair fall into his face, "I am something the humans believe does not exist anymore," It was the truth in a round about way. His secret was safe and she got her question answered.

"Montague," Helen smiled. How could she not? He just described their life in a simple cryptic sentence. "You're something more than you were before. This I know because I know you." She stood up and gave into the need to touch him. Helen reached out her hand gently placing it on his shoulder. "Sleep in the bed and we'll talk more tomorrow."

"Don't you mean later today?" Montague called after her with a wicked smile playing on his lips, but he did as he was told. His body ached and his mind was half asleep. Settling himself beneath the covers he let sleep carry him into another world where the dream gods waited to torment him of images of the woman who helped him.

EARLY EVENING:

Helen walked through her Sanctuary going towards John's room. She wanted to try and talk to him again now that she had run a blood test on him. The faint trace of Source Blood was gone from his DNA. Though, as far as she could tell he was still a teleporter. At least she hoped so. That power defined John more so than his knowledge and his ability to kill. It was his freedom and she would hate to see that striped from him. Helen turned a corner and encountered Nikola standing in John's opened doorway.

"He's not here." Nikola spoke knowing that Helen had just come around the corner. He found it oddly annoying that with every step she took her heart picked up in beat in anticipation of seeing Druitt again.

"What?" Helen moved past Nikola to look inside John's room. No John. The bed had, at least, been slept in. "I wonder were he could have gone?"

"Maybe he left," Nikola mused stepping out of her way. That would make him supremely happy. If Druitt wasn't here Nikola's day would vastly improve.

"No, alarms would have gone off had he attempted to leave the property." Helen answered. That still didn't answer the question of where he was. Her team didn't even know John was back in the Sanctuary yet.

"You really can't let him go can you?" Tesla knew the answer and it hurt him. He was surprised at how much.

Helen didn't turn, didn't look at Nikola as she answered. "I've lost him too many times, I can't lose him again." The words spilled out of her mouth and she didn't want to call them back. She was tired of lying where it came to John. He was still so much apart of her life that she felt so isolated without him around her, without hearing his voice.

"Back up, this man has tormented you, lied to you, and nearly got you killed. You still want to help him?" Nikola threw up his hands in disgust.

"Gee, Nikola, you just described yourself." Helen sniped and then sighed. "John is… everything to me. I had to watch as he fed that creature all the energy it could take and eradicate all traces of the John I knew; the John you knew." She shook her head lightly, "You know what they say; love if blind."

"Deaf, dumb, and blind more like it." Nikola sneered.

"Excuse me? Of all the times I've helped you, of all the times you've nearly gotten me killed, of all the times you've lied to me; have I ever once turned you away? I would have thought that garnered me a little understanding from you." Helen snarled. She would have thought better of Nikola, but then again, she never got what she expected from anyone.

"I'm not here to be understanding; I'm here to be a genius." Nikola shouted and he hadn't realized that he was even raising his voice until he heard a very deadly growl surrounding them. He looked up to see Druitt standing just behind Helen. Even with no memory Druitt was never far away from Helen.

Helen had felt John take up position behind her. That one act made her heart swell even though she didn't want it to. Some things no matter how small were still ingrained on John's actions; he had this instinctual drive to protect her. It made her angry sometimes, but today she welcomed it. "Keep it up and you might not be here for much longer." It was a threat she may or may not enforce.

Montague reached out and touched her shoulder, "Are you alright?" He had heard what she had said about the 'John' he was supposed to be. There was nothing but a strange connection he was feeling for her. All night his mind had tormented him with mages of them together. They felt more like memories from a life he never lived.

"Yes, I'm fine." Helen reigned in the need to smile at John. "Where have you been?" she changed the subject immediately.

"I barely sleep so I went for a run around your spacious grounds." Montague answered stretching his arms up, feeling his joints pop. Bringing his arms down Montague trained his gaze on the other man and fought the urge to curl his lip in a snarl.

"So that's why you're all sweaty then?" Helen asked. Her mind went back to all the times she had marveled at him while he had been working out. No one moved quite the same way John could move. He had captivated her from the first glance he had thrown her way.

"It was a good run." Montague leaned in close, "Perhaps next time you should go with me," He was teasing her and he knew it, but he couldn't help himself. There was this need to be close to her. Montague didn't understand that. She was a human and humans hunted his people. If he knew what was good for himself then he would leave and spare her the revulsion of finding out what he was.

"Then perhaps you should take a cold shower Johnny boy," Nikola curled his lip. Just the sight of John with his hair tied half back, wearing no shirt, and jogging pant made him want to vomit.

"And perhaps you could go and drink yourself into a catatonic stupor." Montague growled.

"How did you know he drank like a fish?" Helen asked quickly. That was only something John would know, would remember.

"I can smell it all over him. It's oozing out of his pores and it's making me nauseous really." Again he growled. It was all he was capable of doing when he was around Helen. There was this drive, this instinct that screamed at him to protect her and he was listening. He sensed that the other man was a threat to her.

"Hey I drink…. There's news!" Nikola replied sarcastically.

"That's obvious." Montague quipped removing his hand from Helen's shoulder. "Now, if you'll excuse me a shower is not a half bad idea." He inclined his head towards Helen.

"I'll make sure you have a change of clothes." Helen mumbled trying not to look into John's eyes. Having him with no memory was a temptation she was finding hard to fight against. There was desire to let herself fall for him again.

"Thank you." Montague moved around her and down the hall to where the showers were. If he spent one more second near her then he would be tempted to pull her into his arms and get as much of her scent on his skin as he could. It was the animal in him and he hated it sometimes. The desire he was feeling for her was irrational and foolish. He shouldn't want a woman like her, but he did. From the first glance he knew he wanted her.

"I saw that." Nikola remarked.

"Saw what? There was nothing to see." Helen responded watching John walk away from her. He was all fluid grace. No man should ever move with such poise.

"You're falling for him even harder this time." Nikola was the student of human nature even though he rarely understood it. "Maybe Johnny boy knew that to win you back he had to lose his memory or at least fake it."

"He's not faking it." Helen defended.

"How do you know?" Nikola inquired turning his gaze to look up the hall where Druitt no longer was.

"No ones that good of an actor, not even John." Helen sighed and looked at Nikola, "He flinched when I touched him last night after cleaning his wounds. John would never flinch at me touch." Only she flinched. Every time she hated herself for showing such fear of a man she loved so dearly.

"Really? He actually flinched?" This intrigued Nikola. Maybe Druitt wasn't faking after all. So, what could do so much damage to him to make him forget what he was? This would be well worth finding out. If it could happen to a powerful member of the Five, he and Helen weren't safe.

"In all the years you've known him have you ever seen John flinch?" Helen asked already knowing the answer.

"No, not ever," Nikola answered.

"He's not faking. Now the question remains; what happened to him?" Helen walked off down the hall to retrieve a set of clothes that she could give to John.

"This day just keeps getting better and better." Nikola muttered turning to walk back down to his lab where he could tinker with his many projects while waiting to see if Helen enforced her threat.

THE SHOWERS:

Montague stood beneath the hot spray of the shower where a sigh of pleasure escaped him. The hot water felt so good to his aching muscles and ravaged back. Where fresh claw marks had been last night were now pale pink healing scars. His run had helped free some of his pent up energy. It was enough to help the healing start.

Reaching out he grasped the white wash cloth from the rail. He put soap on the cloth and set about cleaning off the sweat and some of the left over dirt from his body. Montague closed his eyes at the feeling of the soap covered cloth running over his skin. His mind conjured another hand other than his own; it was hers. In that one instant he could feel her kin against him, her hands all over him, and her lips nibbling on the scars of his back. Montague opened his eyes and looked around. It was only his mind playing tricks on him, tormenting him with a vision of what he can't have. Montague rinsed off the soap feeling a deep sadness creep into his being. Why was one woman so important to him?

A gentle knocking brought his attention out of the day dream and to the door. Raising his voice slightly Montague called out, "Yes?" He turned off the water reaching for the black towel. Securing it around his waist Montague stepped out from behind the curtain just as the door opened to reveal Helen carrying a change of clothes for him. She visibly shivered and drew her gaze up and down him about three times. Montague smiled at that. At last he knew he was pleasing to her eyes.

"Uh… Here… a change of clothes like I promised." Helen held them out trying in vain not to look at John wearing only a black towel that brought out the alabaster of his skin. His hair was even blacker now that it was wet. The beads in his hair stood out more so now as well. They even reflected the light casting jeweled shadows on the tiles. Not looking at his body Helen focused on the beads only to realize that they weren't beads, but actual jewels woven into the hair of his braid. "Good lord."

"What?" Montague felt puzzled. One minute she was marveling at his body and then the next she had completely changed. He preferred her eyes raking over his body not focused on his hair.

"You have a veritable fortune woven into your braids." Helen reached out and was pleased when he didn't pull away this time. The nearest jewel to her fingers was a blood ruby. "Oh my, you have amethyst, amber, topaz, emeralds, and blood rubies in your hair." She pointed out.

"If you say so," Montague shrugged taking a step back from her causing her to let go of his hair. "I don't know how I got them. The first time I realized they were there was when you touched them last night." He reached for another towel to dry his wet mass of hair. The water in his hair getting cold as it dripped on to his skin. "I thought about taking them out a little while ago." Montague put the towel over his head and rubbed furiously at his head. The sensation felt so good.

"You shouldn't. They look good on you." It was the truth. John hadn't looked half as good to her as he did when his hair was spilling over his shoulder in wet ringlets. He was still very attractive to her, but the hair added an element to him that she had been hard pressed to define for well over a century and had yet had no luck with it. No word seemed good enough in describing her Montague. And he was still very much hers and hers alone.

He took the towel from over his head and looked at her. Her words had rang like thunder in his ears, but still he asked, "What did you say?" Montague added a playful smile. He felt that he could be playful with her and she wouldn't over react to it. How did he know that though? Why was he so certain?

Helen found herself smiling lightly and nearly chuckling. "You heard me." Gently she touched his arm offering her a smile. It was a while she had not given him in a while. How easy was it for her to forget everything he had done to them with him looking so innocent? But then again that was John wasn't it? He could look innocent even while he killed. Though, Montague, the man in front of her, had a hard edge about him. That was something John never had. He always appeared in a relaxed manner, lazy even. Montague was always on alert even while he teased her. These were two different men she was being around.

"You're right I did," Montague took the clothes from her daring her to leave. This was just another game he sensed that they had played many times. He set the shirt aside before he unfolded the loose cotton khaki pants. Keeping his eyes on her Montague watched her reaction to him sliding the fabric over his legs. She had admirable restraint as she kept her eyes locked with his while he tied the draw strong around his hips. Montague removed the towel slowly dropping it to the tiled floor.

Helen knew she should leave. She should have just left his clothes on the vanity sink and left him to shower in peace. Yet, here she stood watching him as he teased her with getting dressed. Helen much preferred when John was taking his clothes off rather than putting them on, but he made getting dressed seem so erotic. "You delight in teasing me don't you?" Her voice was calmer than she thought it would be.

"You make it terribly easy just by the way you watch me." Montague answered reaching for the white cotton button up shirt. He slipped the soft cloth over his skin and left it unbuttoned. But the shirt felt wrong being left open and his skin exposed. Some sense of vanity screamed at him to button the shirt and present himself as a gentleman. He only ignored it. From around his wrist Montague took the thin black hair tie to tie back his hair until it dried.

"When you had your memories, you always had a bit of an exhibitionist streak in you," Helen had treasured those rare times. John had let down his guard so completely to let her in, let he see the man he really way that it had touched her in ways his hands, his lips, never could.

"I can imagine, when I was John, you were worth a little exhibitionism." Montague slowly reached out and drew his index finger along the right side of her aw. Her skin was so silky smooth that he just wanted to caress her all over. "It is as if you are a memory from a dream I can not place." He cleared his throat and stepped back from. "I'm not safe to be around. You should never…"

"I can decide for myself." Helen stated forcefully. She was so drawn to him again even as much as she tried not to be. What right did he have to warn her away? John wanted her around and not it seemed that the man, Montague, standing before her wanted her with a passion but was trying not to want her. Why was he doing this?