This is my entry for the Diehard "Bells" Challenge. Here goes nothing.

Closure

Helen looked at the tiny bracelet one more time and then put it away in it's little satin covered box. The miniature bells that adorned the trinket tinkled slightly as she put it out of her sight.

It had been for her baby. The baby that John had been so ecstatic about that he had rushed to have the customary jewelry made and given it to her before her suspicions of her condition were completely confirmed. He had been very specific with the jeweler and the result was a bit unorthodox. The delicate bells were by no means a conventional addition. The silver adornment was stamped with the usual 'baby', but that was where the similarities ended. That wasn't to say that the gift wasn't lovely. It was just an odd choice.

When she had asked John about the bracelet his answer had been somewhat shocking. "Does not every child prefer toys that make some pretty sound? Besides, many cultures believe that the sound of bells ward off evil spirits."

"You don't really believe that do you?" She had asked. They were all skeptics by that time. Believing in nothing that wasn't tried and tested. Looking back she might have said they were arrogant.

"Perhaps not, but it doesn't hurt to be a little superstitious now and again." He had given her a small smile and they left it at that.

Now she understood. The gift was a wish. Or rather a hope, his hope that their child would be safe from the madness inside him. Helen could not read more into his words and actions than that. He had tried to fight his darkness and he had lost, but at least she could be certain now that her John had truly struggled.

Helen vowed, thinking of the child she carried and loved, that his struggle would not be for nothing. Their child would be protected from the evil that had been born in Whitechapel.

Sanctuary

Over a hundred years later, things had changed gravely. Helen's child was dead and she had failed. John was there, having been granted some peace for the time being from his dark impulses. Together they had tried to save Ashley, but she was gone.

There was not even a body to bury. The worst struggle Helen had ever faced had come and gone and bitterly she was still breathing. Well hyperventilating. Tears coursed down her face and she clutched a faded and moth eaten box to her chest. It was the tarnished thing inside that had set her off. The bells no longer jingled happily. The were dead…just like the child they were made for.

"Helen…" A soft voice interrupted her moment of unbearable misery. She quickly dashed the tears from her eyes and forced her breathing to even out. When Helen turned she found John standing in the doorway of her office.

"John." She said in the strongest voice she could manage. It still sound weak to her. "Was there something you needed?"

"Nothing important. I am sorry I disturbed you." Druitt apologized and actually sounded sincere about it.

"It's quite alright. In fact I have something for you." Helen assured the man who stood before her. As she stepped forward she saw a glimmer of recognition in John's eyes when they landed on the item she carried.

Helen held the box out to him, but he would not take it. "As I recall, I gave that to you a long time ago as a gift and it is rude to return gifts."

In truth he didn't want the bracelet that he had given her so long ago, because he feared what it's return meant. Their connection was broken. The living proof of what they had meant to each other was gone and he could not bear the thought that they had nothing left.

Helen hesitated as if she just realized the same unspoken thing he had. Then she shook it off. "It's too painful John. I can't keep it."

Druitt stepped forward as if to take the box, but instead placed his hands over hers. "Then perhaps we should finally give it to it's rightful owner."

Her eyes widened at what his statement implied. He had not been present for Ashley's memorial, but he had seen the coffin full of meaningful gifts that had rested in the chapel of the Sanctuary. It had been interred in the mausoleum behind a stone with her daughter's name. Helen had made sure to make it accessible were a body ever found. John was finally willing to say goodbye with her, so she could only give one answer.

"Alright…"

Sanctuary

With the stone removed, it was a simple matter of placing the bracelet into the coffin that somehow was supposed to represent their daughter. Small pieces of her life in relation to those who were apart of it rested against the white crepe.

A wilted rose for her beauty, a leather bound journal for her secrets and joys, a crafted tribal doll for her spirit's rest, a necklace for her philosophy and now a tiny silver bracelet for the broken promise that had shaped her life and death.

Druitt put the stone back and it and that act made reality more final than ever. He took Helen's hand and they stood together for a moment.

When the silence weighed upon them he spoke. "I have to leave."

"Why?" Helen asked.

"There is no reason to stay." He answered without bitterness.

"There is no reason to go." She said it as if commenting on the weather, but in truth it was a plea.

John heard what she wasn't saying, maybe there was something left for them after all. "It's not goodbye for good…just for the moment."

He bent slightly and pressed a kiss to her temple and then he was gone.

Helen closed her eyes and tried to make the moment last, but it was gone. She sighed and steeled herself for the days to come. It was going to be hard to heal, but what choice did she have.

Leaving the mausoleum, she spared a though for John. 'Please come back soon.'

Yeah this was the best I could do. Sorry.