Summary: Helen Magnus just lost her only daughter to the Cabal. Her heart is in shards, and the one man she wants to reach out to is the one man she can't trust.

Disclaimer: I own nothing of the show and this is just for fun.

Ship: John/Helen

Helen's Lament:

She stood, as she always did, on the top of the north tower looking out at the city she protected, her home. No more than three hours ago Ashley had gone to the Cabal with the pure vampire blood. Helen didn't feel anger towards Ashley, the Cabal must have done something to her, but the pain that infected Helen's heart was tearing at her. Ice poured through her veins and warred with the boiling rage that demanded an outlet, a target. She wanted to scream, to cry, to get angry, but in the end she stood looking out at the city. Helen always watched the city. There was a subtle shift in the air, and she knew he was behind her on the ledge. His hands rested on her waist, she didn't push them away. His warmth and presence comforted her. Helen wanted to feel him with her; John kept her grounded, even when she hated him.

Leaning back Helen felt the solidness of his chest. John wrapped his arm tighter around her, warmth flowing over her at the contact, momentarily chasing away the cold in her heart. One minute she was looking out at her city and the next they were in her personal quarters, she was staring at the window, its drapes closed. The room was dark with a few scattered candles lit. And all John did was hold her. His right arm was casually draped over her waist while Helen pillowed her head on his left arm. It was more the contact than anything that she wanted, even if it was John.

Helen stiffened slightly when John moved his right hand and stroked it lightly down the side of her face. His fingers were so light, almost like a butterfly's wing kissing her skin. "It's all right to let go, Helen." John whispered, replacing his hand to rest over her waist.

Helen shuddered, containing a sob that wanted to claw its way out of her throat and fill the void with her cry of anguish over the loss of her child. John pulled her closer to his chest, protecting and comforting her. She turned in his arms and buried her face in his shirt and let the tears fall, silently. He was the one man who Helen could turn to, and the one man she should run from. John held her heart and he had destroyed her, but she sensed something in him that made her want to believe in him again, and that could get her hurt again. But now, right now, that didn't matter. He was here with her, holding her, reassuring her.

John felt Helen's pain, his was a pale shadow to hers, but it was there. His daughter, their child, was now in the hands of the Cabal. Instinctively he knew Helen needed someone to hold on to. John got to her before Tesla could even try to get to Helen, his Helen. Everything he was doing now was to make up for all the pain and hurt he caused her. If he had the chance to bring Ashley back then he would take it, and kill anyone who got in his way. If he had to, then he would let the monster inside him loose, but would he have the power to chain it up once everything was done?

John could feel Helen's tears soaking through his shirt. Not one sob broke loose from her mouth. She had such a strong resolve, a force of will, John wondered if she would scream or rage. Helen muttered something into his chest. "What?"

"Take me back to the North Tower." Helen said, with an underlying tone of a command. She knew John would comply. Again she felt the slight tug as John transported them from her bed to the top of the tower. The draft gathered her hair making it fly around her face. She pulled back from John and saw the worry in his eyes. Turning around to her original position Helen took a deep breath. Her intention had been to steady herself, but there was that need to scream, to rage, and feel her heart break. A scream broke free before she could stop it but the wind carried away her heart wrenching declaration of pain. Another scream followed, and then another and another until the strength of her pain was making her knees weak. Each time she screamed the wind carried it away. The only person to witness her breaking was John, who stayed silent just holding her, being her strength. She nearly slipped out of his arms, nearly crumpling into a broken heap on the edge of the ledge. John picked her up and cradled her close as if she were a fragile China Doll.

All her pain purged John once again took her back to her bed, to sleep. Taking off her shoes John settled her under the covers and doused the candles. He was about to teleport out when he heard her soft cry. Turning to her John saw her reach out her hand towards him. He went to her and took her hand. There wasn't much more he thought he could do, unless Helen wanted it. She gave a slight tug to signal him to climb on the bed with her. John should know better, but Helen was in so much pain. Not once had he seen her so broken, not even when he betrayed her.

Helen watched confusion run over John's face. She could tell that he wanted more than anything to climb in with her, but at the same time he wasn't sure if she would hurt him later. Another tug, this time sharper, made up John's mind. Removing his own shoes John slowly settled next to him, staying on top of the comforter while she curled into his side. Right now, in this moment, she could derive comfort from him. He was there for her, if only for tonight. And tonight was all she was going to allow herself from John's touch, tonight was the night Helen Magnus broke from pain and anger, and tonight was the night that she allowed herself to hope for more from John.

FEW HOURS LATER: DAWN

Dawn first light crept in through the drapes, though the small cracks to dance over and intertwine with the shadows from the night yet to be vanquished. Helen breathed in slightly and opened her eyes. She rarely ever slept through the night anymore, but when she did then it meant her mind was deeply trouble. Only this time her heart broke, and the weariness exhausted her. She was more aware of the heat at her back, instantly she knew it was John and he was still asleep. Slowly, so slowly, Helen moved out from John's embrace, but did not leave the bed. She turned to look at him, peaceful slumber keeping him in the land of dreams or nightmares. His head had been resting so close to hers, but she had all but pulled him into her bed, even if the reason had been for her comfort.

Gently she traced her fingers down his cheek and over to his lips, he always had such soft lips. Helen remembered when they had kissed her, and when they had traced over her shoulders. She shook her head and dislodged that memory. No way had she wanted to remember when they had been lovers, for that brief time Helen had been happy. But that happiness had blinded her to the fact that his powers were driving him crazy.

He twitched slightly, which had Helen drawing her hand back. She didn't want to wake him. It was almost like watching a lion sleeping. If one was brave enough then stroking the lion would be fine, until it woke up. John was much like a wild Lion. John could be docile from a distance, wild a violent up close, despite his claims to be cured from his madness. She wanted to believe him, but experience taught her differently when it came to him. Slipping from his hold Helen crawled out of bed and greeted the day by opening the drapes bathing her room in light. She winced when John groaned at the sudden lighting of the once dark room.

He knew she had left the security of her bed, but he wanted to pretend to be asleep for just a few more minutes. It felt so good to hold her one more time, like it had been back in the old days of London. Those had been good times that John had inadvertently screwed up. He had let his power get the best of him, it drove him mad. Slowly reaching his hand out he felt the warmth of where she had been. But when the light flooded the room a groan slipped through his lips before he could stop it. John rose from the bed and teleported behind Helen so he could enfold her in his arms once again. He just wanted to hold her before the spell that was cast over them was broken. She crossed her arms over his holding her to him as she leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder. It had been a long time since John and Helen had greeted the day together.