It was New Year's Eve at the Sanctuary. A time when most people looked to the future. But Helen Magnus was looking to the past. She held a letter in her hand that promised her answers if she was waiting in her office at 11:50. She checked her clock. Only a few more seconds to go. Though she was facing the window that looked out on to the courtyard, she was really seeing it. She was more interested in her soon guest and the answers he would presumably bring. She saw a bright light out of the corner of her eye. "John," she greeted, without turning.
"Helen," he whispered, "It's been a long time."
"It's been eight years," she agreed.
"How have you fared?" he wondered. The tension that seeped into her body told him it was the wrong question to ask.
"The gall you have," she hissed. She continued to face away from him. "You think that you can just walk in here after all this time and act as though nothing has happened."
"I didn't mean to imply anything," he said honestly.
"And what about the things you implied that night?" she asked archly. Finally she turned to him, clearly furious. "You do know the night I'm speaking of, right John?"
"I do," he nodded. Two years after he had voluntarily taken the beast back into himself to save Helen and her home, he had returned to the Sanctuary. Breaking the hold the beast had on him was hard but he had been desperate to see Helen. She must have seen something in his eyes that night because she neither kicked him out nor threw him into a cell. John had made love to her until they were both unable to move. He had promised her that he would fix this somehow. He knew she had expected him to still be at her side when she awoke. He had been half around the world by then. It wasn't until six months later that his contacts had reported Helen's pregnancy.
"Eight years," she said icily. "The night you promised to help fix this, fix us. But you couldn't keep that promise could you?" Sadness began to mix with the anger in her tone. It broke John's heart. "You ran John! You ran from everything! Even your own son. And you hid yourself away like a coward."
"Not completely," he whispered.
"Excuse me?"
"You said I hid myself away. I did not," he corrected. "Not completely. Or did you not get my letters?"
"I received them," she sneered. "But letters are a cold comfort on long winter nights."
"Am I to understand that you have taken up with someone else in these intervening years? William by chance? Or maybe Henry?"
"Henry and Kate are to be married in two months and William is but a child," Helen snapped.
"Nikola then. He has always been rather fond of you after all."
"I did not want Nikola!" she yelled. "Nor anyone else! I wanted you! I have always wanted you! I still want you!" She turned away again. "But apparently you no longer want me."
"OF course I still want you," John insisted. "I was worried about this thing inside of me. I was going to come back but then I heard of your pregnancy. NO child should have to watch their parent descend into madness. I stayed away to protect you. To protect both of you."
"I could have helped," she whispered.
"You were busy with Gregory," he pointed out gently. Gregory James had been the name Helen had decided on when she learned she was pregnant. It had taken John a while to find out that piece of information. He knew he was venturing onto uncertain territory but he had to ask her. "Does Gregory know of me?" Helen would be well within her rights to tell the boy his father was dead.
"I have read him your letters," Helen told him. They both knew that was the real question. "He misses you. Though he has never met you of course."
That wasn't entirely true. Back before his son was old enough to speak, John had visited him occasionally in the night. But Helen did not need to know that. Still the bitterness in her tone stung him. However she had a right to be bitter. Twice now he had promised her the world and failed utterly to deliver. Were she a lesser woman, John would have been sent to the curb by now. But Helen Magnus did not constantly have 'Great' preceding her name for no reason. "I have missed him as well," John agreed. "There are so many moments I will never get back with him, with both of you. However if you will allow me I would like to try and create new moments with you."
Helen turned around slowly, cautiously, and looked at him. The redness from her tears made him want to gather into his arms. But he knew he had not gained enough ground for such an advance to be welcome. "How can I trust you, John?" she asked.
"Because I am purged," he told her.
"Are you certain?"
John moved to kneel in front of her. "I am," he promised. "It is a long story but the creature that fueled my rage is finally dead. I am whole once again. If you will let me, I would like to rejoin this family. To make us into a true family as we should have been. To work by your side as I should have for all those years. I beg of you Helen, grant this excuse for a man his only wish. It is only by your forgiveness that I will gain the redemption I so desperately seek." John bowed his head and waited for his goddess to pass her judgment.
Helen looked down on the man that she had once loved with everything in her. A part of her loved him still. Really, most of her loved him if she were to be truly honest. What really struck her about this moment, oddly enough, was the fact that John was on his knees. John Druitt was a man with pride. Not so much as Nikola granted, but still pride. He had not even knelt when proposing to her on that far distant night long ago. But now he knelt before her and asked her to forgive his sins one more time. "It has been over a century since we first exchanged words of love John. And that is a very long time. Long enough for feelings to change ten times over." But mine have not, John wanted to scream. Still he stayed silent and let her speak. He sensed she needed this.
"I'm tired, John," she sighed. "So very tired. I can not continue this game we've played for so long." John felt his heart stop. She was going to cast him out. Perhaps if he begged she would still allow him to see Gregory from time to time. "And for that reason I must declare this your final chance. If you revert to your former ways I shall wash my hands of you. I cannot play cat and mouse with you forever. Nor will I subject Gregory to such a life. Our son deserves far better. As did our daughter."
John ears caught the two 'our's and his spirit soared higher than he thought possible. He took her hand to kiss it. "I swear to you Helen, I shall spend very hour show you, proving to that I am changed."
Helen slipped her other hand under his and gently tugged him to his feet. "I don't want promises," she told him. "I don't want pretty words or grand gestures of affection." She slid her arms around his waist and laid her head on his chest. "I simply want you."
John pulled her even tighter to his body. "You have me," he told her, "For as long as you want me near."
Helen pulled an arm from his waist and slid it up his chest. When she reached his neck, she added pressure to angle his mouth to hers. John groaned at her taste which he had missed. One hand stayed around her waist, clamping her as tight to him as possible, while the other came up to bury in her silken hair. Helen was in his arms and he would not willing let her go again. He pulled away when they finally needed air and began to kiss away her tears. "John," she whispered.
"I'll never make you cry again, angel. I give you my word," he vowed in a broken voice.
Helen opened her mouth but whatever she would have said was lost as a small figure came to the door. John turned to see a little boy with brown hair that curled at his collar. His wide blue eyes were closer in color to Helen's than John's own. "Momma," he called. Then he looked to John. The two stared at each other for a moment before the boy spoke again. "Are you my poppa?" he asked.
"I am," John nodded.
"Are you the reason momma cries at night?" Gregory wondered.
"Gregory," Helen hissed, shocked by his behavior. And the fact that he knew she cried at night over John. John's hand on her waist tightened just slightly. She fell silent.
"I am," John said again.
"Are you going to live here now?"
"I am," he agreed.
"Do you promise to never make momma cry ever again?" Gregory demanded. If it had been a different situation John might have laughed at the serious look the little boy had.
Instead he answered with his own seriousness. "I swear on what little honor I have left as a gentleman," John told him.
Gregory broke into a grin. "Daddy!" he yelled, running across the room.
With a laugh, John lifted the boy into his arms. "My son," he whispered. He held Gregory as tight as he could. Helen smiled at the picture her boys made. John looked over to smile back at her. He shifted Gregory to sit on his hip and looped his free arm around Helen's waist to draw her close. Helen put an arm around John's waist and the other around Gregory. She laid her head on John's chest. Gregory reached over to take a lock of her hair. Helen was certain she had never felt so at peace in all her life. All was right with the world at this moment. "My family," John breathed.
They stayed like that until they heard the sound of clocks chiming out midnight. "A new year," Helen smiled.
"A new family," Gregory said.
"A new future," John agreed.
The family turned at knocking on the door. Will was standing there, just staring. Then he smiled brightly. "Happy New Year Magnus."
Helen grinned and snuggled tighter with the boys. "Happy New Year Will."
