Summary: John and Helen talk about old times

Disclaimer: I don't own the characters or Sanctuary.

Rating: T

Pairing: John/Helen

IF ONLY…

Helen was curled into the corner of her office couch watching the flames flicker and dance. She had been searching for Ashley for three weeks, nothing came to light. The pain and the sorrow were starting to weigh heavily on her mind and her heart. Her daughter, her single reason for living, was gone and it was slowly destroying Helen, destroying her heart. Helen had been left to travel the world with John. He was her soul means of transportation. Every moment she spent with him Helen found herself thinking more and more about the past, about a time when she and John had been happy. There was nothing sweeter in her world than when John smiled at her, spoke to her, kissed her. She tried no to think about it, tried to block it out, but it still invaded her mind whenever he moved in close to teleport them to their next destination.

"Here."

Helen looked up and saw John. He had two glasses and one of them he was handing out to her. She could tell that he was making an effort; a good will gesture with alcohol. Helen took the glass and averted her gaze back to the fire just as she felt John sit next to her. Without taking her eyes from the flickering dancing flames Helen brought the glass to her lips and felt that first punch of liquor.

"I figured you needed a stiff drink," John commented next to her. He had been watching her from the doorway for nearly thirty minutes and her expression never changed but he could see the pain in her eyes. She had lost so much, their oldest friend James Watson a man they both loved, and their daughter to the hands of the Cabal. It was eating her up inside and John was suffering because of it. Of course he got to spend more time with her than he dreamed he ever would again. This was destroying them.

"No, what I need is way to go back and relive the last four weeks, I need a way to save my daughter." Helen choked out. The sadness was strangling her. She took another shot of the liquid and coughed with it burned going down her throat; the good stuff always burned. The bourbon did nothing to still the shaking of her body as she fought the tears gathering in her eyes.

John saw the struggle Helen was fighting. He set his glass down on the table and pulled her into the warmth of his arms. She didn't resist. John rested his cheek on top of her head as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Helen was still shaking, fighting her tears, and trying not to cry.

Helen hadn't wanted John to touch her; it brought too many images into her mind, but now that he was she was clinging to the memory of them for dear life. She shouldn't need hi like this, like she needed air in her lungs or like she needed her heart to beat. John had turned into a killer and risked the life of their daughter. Now she was in his arms and feeling every ounce of sorrow she had been trying to hide for the last three weeks. "Don't die please," Helen whispered. She could still see the withered face of James Watson when she closed her eyes. His death was still hurting her, and she knew it was hurting John. James and John had been the best of friends and the day James discovered that John was the Ripper it not only destroyed Helen's life but James's as well.

John couldn't believe what he had heard, but then again he did believe it. Helen never said anything she didn't mean. Even in her current state of grief she still meant what she had said. He kissed the top of her head and replied, "I won't. I'll be here to antagonize you for many years to come." He knew what these words would mean to her right now. It may have been three weeks but James's death felt as if it had happened mere moment's ago.

For the first time in weeks Helen chuckled through the tears. If John chose to the leave the sanctuary that was fine with Helen, but if he died then it would destroy Helen. Through all the angry recriminations she still loved him, still cared. A part of her would always belong to John. There was no changing that and Helen didn't want to change it. She needed just the smallest shred of the past to hold on to; the smallest part to assure her that her life had not been a dream, that her love for John was not lost. Helen pulled back and looked into John's blue eyes; the same eyes that he had past on to Ashley. Where Helen's eyes were grey, John's were more that clear blue.

"What?" John asked softly. Helen had a curious expression on her face and it was one that John could not decipher.

"I just want to go back…" Helen trailed off. Did she really want to ask?

"Back where?"

Even though the words were right on the tip of her tongue Helen couldn't bring herself to say them, to say what she really wanted. She waned more than anything to go back to a time when she had John had been happy. Leaning forewords Helen brushed her lips to John's and took a small comfort in the response she received. His lips moved under hers slowly, his hands remained on her forearms and the rest of him was still. He was allowing her to take.

When she didn't answer John knew what she wanted, but all he could think about what her petal soft lips dancing over his. There was so much to Helen Magnus that was still a mystery to John. Right now that didn't matter, right now she needed comfort and he was willing to give it to her. But, if he gave into that then she would hate herself and him even more. John pulled back, "Helen, you have to stop. We have to stop." Odd that he should be the one to stop; it was what he wanted more than anything.

"For one moment can't we forget all that happened and just be us?" Helen wondered. Tonight she wanted to be only Helen. But she wasn't going to get that; she saw as much in his eyes.

"If you could truly forget, then you wouldn't be asking for this." He sighed and leaned back into the couch. If she wanted to be held by him, then he would oblige her, but he would not give her the emptiness of physical release that she sought. John cast his gaze down and waited with baited breath. Her warmth was at his side and John knew.

John wouldn't give Helen what she needed, but he was still willing to hold her. At least this much she could have from him. This was all she was going to get from him, all he could give and all she could take. It was the nature of who they were now and who they would be for the foreseeable future. Deep down she had John's assurance that he would stay, that he wouldn't die. It was childish, but she needed childish promises of eternity to get her through the rest of the night.