AN: I have been wondering for ages why John could stay young by injecting himself with Helen's blood and James needed to use that very steampunky suit. I guess Nigel was also injecting Helen's blood because he did look rather young in Normandy. So why didn't it work for James? Well, here you have my headcanon on the whole thing. Just a short one shot really. I don't own anything, not making money of this.
„Are you sure about this, James? We could just try using my blood again. Maybe in a different concentration?"
Watson took the loupe from his eye and passed a weary hand over his face. He had been sitting at the workbench with Tesla for the better part of two days. Neither of them had slept at all. There were empty wine bottles and plates strewn all over the workshop and he had accidentally smashed at least one tea cup. But they really were too focused on their work to take breaks. Helen had been tutting at them every time she walked past but in the end she didn't do more than make sure they ate and drank. She knew better than to drag them to bed by force. This was not the first time she had raised the subject of using her blood to slow down James' aging though.
"We've been over this, Helen. We're not compatible, somehow. It's not a question of concentration."
He reached for his tea cup only to find that it was empty. With a puzzled look he put it back on its saucer.
"You finished that cup two hours ago, oh Great Detective, as I told you last time you picked it up. Don't start going senile on me now."
Tesla at first didn't look up from the tangle of tubes and cogwheels he was working on. He was at a delicate stage in the process and really didn't welcome the distraction. He mumbled something in Serbian and picked up a pair of tweezers. After fiddling one very recalcitrant wheel into position he briefly looked up at James and Helen, who had come to stand beside the detective.
"We can't risk causing the same reaction we got last time, Watson. I had to shock your heart back into beating, remember? We want to prolong your life, not end it."
Helen got the teapot from the side table where it stood on its warmer and refilled James' cup. She dropped in one sugar cube and stirred. James didn't take milk but he sometimes added so much sugar it didn't even dissolve anymore. Most likely to feed all those brain cells working overtime, she thought as she returned the pot.
"We weren't expecting any adverse reactions to my blood back then. It worked fine on Nigel and … it worked fine on Nigel. It might not even have been my blood that caused it. Maybe if we mix our blood together in a Petri dish we can find out what caused your reaction? I have been reading about this discovery Landsteiner made. Apparently blood doesn't all belong to the same type. So if we –"
James held up one finger to stop her frantic babbling.
"No, Helen, we've been over this. It's too risky. The suit will work just fine. Tesla and I have been over the plans again and again. It's going to work so stop worrying. Or is it that you have no faith in our abilities?"
James lifted one eyebrow and looked at her expectantly. He would never have thought that Helen would not trust him to save his own life, especially when he had their antisocial genius friend to help him. Making Tesla agree to come back to the Sanctuary to help him with this had been harder than convincing a stubborn mule to move. But in the end Nikola had flown in from New York and in his usual abrasive manner had brushed past James at the front door with a rushed hello and a demand to be shown to the lab which would surely be stocked with long outdated equipment at best.
It had made James smile despite himself because he knew that Nikola had come back mainly because he actually did care whether James lived or died. He clearly had cared five years ago when the three of them had first experimented with injections of Helen's blood. It had been a frightful experience for all of them and had instilled a disquieting fear of death in James. He tried to ignore it, tried to pretend he did not care, but every time he let down his guard that fear would creep back out of the deep parts of his mind he had banished it to like a demon from the pits of hell. He was not sure that anything they could accomplish would ever take away that fear, not matter how long he lived. But he was determined to try everything.
Helen let herself sink onto a chair next to James with a sigh and brought him out of his dark thoughts.
"Of course I have faith in you, both of you, more than in any other living person. But you're getting grey hairs, James, and it scares me. I don't want to lose you. And working around the clock without sleep is not good for your health."
Watson put a reassuring hand on hers. She squeezed it and tried her hardest to ignore all the signs of passing time that were engraved so deeply into his skin now and completely absent on hers. She forced herself to smile for him but knew he'd not believe it for a second.
"My two geniuses, if you stop bickering long enough you can accomplish anything. It is maybe a good thing for the world at large that you usually don't."
Tesla cleared his throat.
"When you have finished flirting I could use a hand here if this bloody thing is to ever get finished."
"Sorry, Mr. Impatient, what can we do for you?"
James pulled his hand from Helen's grip and leaned closer to Nikola. He was a bit startled to realize that the Serb was quite farther along in assembling his suit than he'd anticipated. He did not usually lose track of time like this. Maybe he was getting old after all?
Tesla pointed to a complicated mess of lines and circles on their plans.
"You'll need to hold these wheels in place while I screw on the caps for those reservoirs and then attach the tubing. Afterwards we can fix the wheels in place and attach the batteries."
Doing as he was told James reached across the table and watched Nikola efficiently put together all the parts. Both the man opposite him and Helen could still easily pass for graduating students at Oxford, should they want to. He on the other hand could at best pass for a middle aged lecturer.
"You can let go now, James. Are you daydreaming?"
James blinked and the machinery came back into focus. Had he been daydreaming? He might have been. His eye stung with exhaustion and all his muscles ached.
"I'm sorry, old friend, I might have been. How much longer until we're done here? I fear my bed is calling me rather loudly."
Tesla waved an impatient hand at him and fiddled with the batteries.
"I'm nearly done, it's just some basic assembling of the finished components and then I can put on the outer case. Go to bed, you look like death and it's distracting. Also I won't have you falling asleep on my workbench. I will finish it tonight and you can try it on tomorrow."
Helen smiled and pulled at James' arm.
"Do you hear that, Mr. Watson? You're distracting him so go to bed, now, doctor's orders."
James admitted defeat and stood up with a groan.
"Fine, fine, mother. You worry too much, both of you."
He walked stiffly to the door as Helen sat back down in the chair he had just vacated. Looking back at his two friends working away he smiled and thought that he was a lucky man, indeed.