Summary: Helen needs someone to understand, but no one understands like John.
Disclaimer: I own nothing of Sanctuary.
Rating: T+
Pairing: John and Helen
UNDERSTANDING:
She stood alone, looking out through glass, down out at the city that was her home. Rain slid down the window pain distorting her reflection. Why wasn't she at her beloved Sanctuary? Why wasn't she working to stop the Cabal? Why wasn't she doing anything thing? Instead she stood looking out at the high rises and down at the city streets dressed only in men's charcoal grey button up shirt. Helen tried to understand what she was doing, why she was here and not at her Sanctuary. She was standing in front of a large window just staring out at her iron jungle where she helped the abnormals who inhabited it. She was in an apartment just letting her mind take her to places she would rather not dwell. It was out of their understanding that Helen now stood wearing John's shirt and being close to him while not on a mission to hunt up information for Ashley.
A hand brushed hers, she knew who it was; John. He alone knew the dark thoughts that would permeate her mind, understood them like no other could. She was dark, knew she was, but couldn't stop the darkness from clouding her mind. Her daughter was being used by the Cabal and Helen hadn't been able to get her back, hadn't been able to find a way to save her child. John alone understood, as much as she hated to admit it. Lately she had turned to him, not Will, or Big Foot, or even Henry. John was the first to find her and the first to pull her into his arms.
Arms encircled her waist; hands snaked up to cover her heart. Helen leaned her head forward and touched her chin to the back of his hands. This was the side of John she thought she had lost. Tesla had made him whole, at least in part. He had made it possible for John to come back to her. John turned her around and pinned her lightly to the full window. Lowering his lips close to hers John whispered, "Come have a drink."
Helen ran her right hand through her hair and followed him, distinctly aware of the way the shirt rode up as she walked. Her clothes had gotten wet, soaked, in the down pour and John only had an extra shirt to offer her, "As long as it's strong."
"Oh, I think I can accommodate you," John made sure Helen couldn't see the bottle as he poured her a drink of 1869 Absinthe. It was the first bottle they had ever shared together. He had brought it to her after they had changed from the Vampire blood.
Helen wasn't in the mood to be angry or cold; she was in the mood for companionship and talk of the past days spent in bliss and days spent in London. She wrapped her arms around John's waist and pillowed her head on his shoulder as she waited for his strong drink. The alcohol was distinct; it was Absinthe; her favored form of libation. It had been back when it hadn't been banned. As much as she believed that John would never change; he was the one man she turned to, always turned to.
John craned his neck and muttered, "Comfortable?"
"I would be even more so, if you gave me that drink." Helen pulled away and waked back to the huge window to survey her city once again. In the reflection of the glass she saw John follow her holding two glasses. He handed her one and together they took that first sip. The hard punch of alcohol nearly knocked her back and punched her gut. She had, after all, asked for something strong and John had provided.
"The Green Fairy who lives in the Absinthe wants to steal your soul," John spoke in a low sensual tone close to Helen's ear. They had been the same words he had used on her before. Stick with what you knew in John's opinion.
"Think she will try and take our souls?" Helen turned as she took another sip of the green liquid.
"If she tries, you'll safe with me," John nuzzled the side of her neck; his lips placing a light kiss at her pulse point.
Helen moved away from him turning so she could look John in the yes, "What if you try and take my soul?" Taking another drink Helen went to sit on the edge of the wide bed. Rather than staying at the Sanctuary John had acquired an apartment right in the heart of her city. She had wondered why, but had yet to ask. Right now she wanted there to be no questions, only an understanding between them. Helen was here in his company because she wanted to be no where else that reminded her of her daughter, of their daughter.
He moved to her then, cupped her face in his had and caressed her cheek with his thumb, letting the question pass. He had no interest in her soul, just her body and her heart. John didn't want her to think of him as the killer he had been for so many years; Tesla inadvertently curbed his blood lust. No, John wanted Helen to see him, the real him who had loved her. There had been a time when their love had burned like a fire, and would shine brighter than the sun.
John knelt before her and took her glass, setting it and his aside. He rested his arms on other side of her thighs and tilted his head slightly back and angled it up. Straightening his back John took her lips, and for one brief moment he was in heaven, paradise. Tonight, for them, there was no past, there was no Cabal; there was only the two of them taking the comfort each
JUST BEFORE DAWN:
The sky was tinged with red; it would be a red dawn. Helen lay in John's arms as he slept behind her. In the intervening years John's body had not changed, except her a little more muscle; he still fit to her. As much as she wanted to hate herself, Helen couldn't muster the self disgust. Inching to the edge of the bed she untangled herself from John's arms. Grabbing the discarded shirt she put it back on and buttoned it up as she walked to the window. Nothing had been knocked out of place; the glasses were where John had left them, only the sheets were rumbled as John still slept beneath them.
Humans and abnormals still slept those who kept a normal schedule. Helen never knew what normal was, not even as a child. Her father had shown her a world that had taken her over and it was a world that had separated her from John. She had been the reason behind the creation of the FIVE; her insatiable thirst for knowledge. If she had only left well enough alone she and John may have had that life, the life of two people in love, a love that made a wonderful child. But this was their lot in life. She was the leader of a huge network that spanned the globe, and he was a killer who had a sudden attack of conscience.
"What will become of us?" She asked, whispering her question to the predawn light.
"The world will decide." Helen turned back to John who was now fully awake and staring at her, "The world always decides." He held out his hand to her, and Helen went to him willingly. Here in this one room they were just two people who had no past. She intertwined their fingers, enjoying having the feeling of him near her again as the sun rose to grace the heavens with celestial light for the new day.