A/N: I can't have been the only one that was thinking this. ...And I really need to get to bed. Ugh. Hopefully, getting this out of the way will help.


She knows that look all too well.

H.G. imagines she herself looked the same, over a century ago.

There's no hiding the desperation lurking beneath the surface, the utter panic and despair in a person's eyes.

Particularly not when they seem to know things. Things that, to be quite frank, they shouldn't know.

If Helena hadn't known for a fact that they'd broken her time machine (something, she muses, she needs to fix one of these days), she'd almost think that... No. It couldn't be.

It's impossible.

There's no way that this could be an Artie from the future. An Artie that had seen something dreadful, terrible enough to prompt him to find a way into the past to undo what's been done. Because Helena knows that Artie would never do that. He's not the type to do such things.

Unless...

No. The possibility, the reality, it's unthinkable.

But the facts all add up. The haunted look in his eyes. The desperation edging his voice. The need to act quickly. The knowledge of things he, by all rights, should have no knowledge of.

Which begs the question: What happened?