All ratings, categories, etc., apply to the series as a whole, rather than individual parts, and I reserve the right to revise these as the series develops.

DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Damien Kindler and Stage 3 Media and Ms. Tapping and all the usual suspects who aren't me. Just borrowing these beautiful people. Thanks for the favor)
CATEGORIES: Hurt/comfort, angst, adventure, Helen/John, Helen/Will (friendship now, telling you whether there's more would be a spoiler)

AUTHOR'S NOTES: This is a series. Though there is an overall unifying storyarc, each of the chapters will somewhat stand alone as well, though they really should be read in order, and I do believe it's necessary to read the first chapter in order to establish the basic scenario. But this is not, I believe, a dangerous sort of WIP to begin reading, as it doesn't exactly leave you "hanging" in the sense of a more traditional story. And the final chapter is, in fact, largely written and can be applied by me at any time, once enough of the stories have been told)

Jumps from present day to flashbacks will be denoted by "---". Traditional section breaks will use "*****".

Many thanks to Teddy E and Annie for the wonderful betas and for committing to a long term project!

INTERVIEW WITH THE PROTEGE
by
Rowan Darkstar
Copyright (c) 2010

Chapter 2:

"You mentioned earlier that Dr. Magnus told you she had buried many lovers..."

The fire crackles and flickers, and Will knows they've been talking too far into the night. But the night that was once his mortal enemy has long since become his friend. "Well, I said there were lovers amongst the many loved ones she has buried," he clarifies.

"Well, you worked beside her a long time."

"Almost fifty years, in some capacity at least. My field days have been gone for a while."

"Surely, in all that time, you must have witnessed..."

"Helen Magnus is a very private person," Will says, and takes another sip of his tea, now cool.

"I've no doubt. Yet over the years, you did become close friends?"

"Oh, yes. Very much so." Because they did get there, they most definitely got there. But it was not a simple nor a direct route by any measure. And there were nights he had thought he would never really be on the inside. Nights he thought what they had had slipped away on the cruel wings of time. "It took a long time to...," Will settles into his chair, shifting his tired hips and searching for long lost words, "...to feel like she would open up to me, like I truly mattered in her personal life. Like I was someone she would turn to. The friendship was kind of...one-sided for a long time. But a relationship with Magnus, even a pure friendship...it doesn't work like anything else you've ever known, you need to understand that. It can't work the same way for her. Everyone she ever...anyone she lets herself care about, lets herself need or love...she's setting herself up to suffer losing them. Having to go on without them."

"But isn't that a risk we all take?" Orman asks. There is no condescension in his tone, only a genuine desire for understanding. So Will keeps trying to explain.

"A risk, sure, but for her it's almost a certainty. At the very least, she's forced to watch her friends grow old and fall out of her daily life. And not everyone can deal with watching her stay young. It's not so easy being the friend having to watch her...go on without you, surround herself with a new group of people. It can be hard to believe you ever really mattered to her at all, out of all the people she's known, will know..."

"But did you believe it? Do you?"

A long moment passes before the old man can find his words. "On a good day, yes. And I did for the years when we were... well. On a good day. Dr. Magnus needs a family, just like anyone else. For all of her...measured distance...Magnus has a gift for making people feel worthwhile, loved. At the end of the day, Helen is a caretaker. A doctor, a mother...she offers people...of ALL varieties...sanctuary."

"We were talking of lovers."

Will gives a wry look. "Were we?"

Orman only lifts his eyebrows and adjusts his narrow glasses. Will admires the man's skill in manipulating silence to prompt others to speak. Such had once been his own trademark.

"I learned about one of her past lovers, once. The first year we worked together."

---

"So that way, you can activate the protocol from any terminal in the Sanctuary, and then all the access points will be PIN entrance only. Until one of the heads of house or security chiefs can reach the lab and enter the ID code to deactivate."

"All right. Got it." Will sat in the rolling chair beside Henry Foss, hand propped on the desk as he peered over the younger man's shoulder at the spread of monitor screens before them.

So much to learn in this place. He'd been here for months and he still felt like the trainee with a big sign around his neck. With the current lull in monster crises Magnus had ordered Will down to Henry's lab for a crash training course in security protocols. Technically, they were also supposed to be scanning the security feeds for signs of a small dog-like creature that had slipped out of The Big Guy's arms at feeding time and disappeared rather effectively (due to his chameleon-like ability to camouflage his fur), but the crisis was low level as the creature's worst threats were his tendencies to chew up favorite shoes and dig holes in ancient carpets. Nonetheless, they had instituted a lockdown of the outer doors, activating secure entrance and exit procedures to prevent the little guy's escape.

"And you designed this system?" Will asked admiringly. Technology had never been his own forte. He knew only what he needed to know to survive in the modern world of medicine.

"Yeah, the PIN protocol was all my programming."

"I'm seriously impressed."

Henry gave a shy smile and said, "The Doc likes us to earn our keep around here."

Will gives a soft laugh and a nod. "Yeah, I see that. So...you seem to pretty much be the brains behind the entire tech side of this place; security, data..."

Henry offered a self-deprecating shrug. "Yeah, well...I seem to have a way with electronics."

"Well...you're pretty young, you can't have been in charge for too many years. So who handled this side of things before you?"

Henry glanced Will's direction as he continued to glibly flip through the varied security cameras. "Well...you met Barnsworth from the UK Sanctuary, right?"

Will nodded, "Briefly, yeah."

"Yeah, he filled in for a while...'til I was old enough the Doc let me take over full time."

"Filled in...so who came before?"

Will caught the hesitation. Henry wasn't a difficult read for a person of Will's skill, and it was clear there was a deeper story here. But Will chose not to draw attention to his observation and quietly waited to see what he might learn.
"His name was Jeremy," Henry said. "He worked tech here for....I don't know, maybe 15 years? He'd already been here for a while when I came."

"And you were, what, eight years old?"

Henry shrugged. "Somethin' like that, yeah. That was the Doc's guess. I don't think we...did birthdays in my original family. I don't even really remember them."

Will was quietly touched by the revelation. Henry rarely spoke of his past, and the easy confidence was unexpected. He still found himself forgetting Henry was not human. The slip was too simple, the contrary knowledge too new. Even after all this time, everything about this world felt new.

"So what happened?" Will asked, his tone soft and respectful. The answer clearly wasn't good.

Henry flipped through a few more security screens and took a sip from his soda. "Jeremy, uh...he was killed in the field. Taken down by a pretty vicious abnormal. Hunting it in the streets right outside Old City."

Will sat back in his chair. "Oh, God, that's terrible. Must have been pretty hard on you, if you'd know him that long, grown up around him."

"Yeah, it was rough for all of us. He was kinda like an uncle or something to me and Ash. But the tough part was...," Henry tossed a glance toward Will, perhaps testing his ground, perhaps wanting to convey the story as much with a look as words, "Jeremy and the Doc...they were a...thing. For quite a while. Got really close. Most I've ever seen her let somebody in, ya know? She was out in the field with him when it happened, but...she couldn't get to him fast enough. The Big Guy found them after. Said the Doc was holding onto Jeremy and just...wouldn't let go. Big Guy finally had to lift her off of him and take her home."

Will pulled off his glasses and swiped a hand down his face, the image burning behind his eyelids. "Aw, God...that's..."

Henry's voice took on a more muted tone, as though he thought Magnus might appear at any moment. But he spoke as if he thought this were something Will should know. "The Doc was pretty...shut off after that. Haven't seen her let anybody else in. Big Guy says it had been a long while before Jeremy, too, so..."

"I'm so sorry."

"Yeah...we all were. Jeremy was a good guy."

"He must have been."

"We used to--hey! Did you see that?" Henry bolted upright, eyes glued to one of the monitors.

Will scanned madly to catch his bearings. "What?"

"I think I saw Rudolph!"

"Our dog thing?"

"Yeah. Oh, crap...he's headed for the Doc's private rooms! Shit. Cover the monitors?" he asked with a pleading expression as he shoved back his chair.

"Uh...yeah. I'll do my best."

"Thanks, man!" Henry tossed one walkie to Will, snapped the other to his own waist and was out the door at a jog.

---

"Did you catch it?" Orman asks breathlessly.

"Catch it? Oh, Rudolph? Yeah, we caught him. Well...Magnus caught him."

"Oh, really?"

Will gave in to a nostalgic chuckle. "Yeah, well...turns out she was in her rooms at the time, so...Rudolph, Magnus half dressed, some Italian shoes, Henry late to the party...I'll leave the rest to your imagination."

"I see." The two men share a smile.

But the shadows of the tale wind back through the room. "She must have had many moments, like that night with Jeremy."

"More than either of us could ever comprehend."

Orman nods in silence.

Will lets his gaze get lost in the last sparks of the fire. "I hugged her for that, once. For the night I wasn't there."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean...that image of her loss that night...it stayed with me for years. And we never spoke of it. I don't know if she ever even knew I knew what had happened. But...one night--this was many years later--when something happened -- something much smaller -- I looked at her and I saw that woman there on the ground of Old City, with her dead lover in her arms. And I walked over and just...hugged her. Hard. She never knew why. But I think maybe...she sort of understood. Because of the context that night. 'Cause she hugged back. And she didn't let go for a while."

"You must have been a true friend, in the end."

"I hope so. As I said it took a long time. But she surprised me once. Only the second year we were working together."

"And how was that?"

"The night...after John Druitt--"

"The Ripper?" The spark of fascination makes Will sick to his stomach.

"Yes, but...there's more to it than that. Far more. He was a man, in the beginning, and after. A good man. He and Helen were engaged." He tries to soften the reflexive defensiveness that floods his limbs.

"I know. I know, you've told me, but that's just...it's fascinating."

"No. No, it's not. They're not some sort of curiosity, they're not some perverse form of entertainment for you to enjoy."

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..."

Will waves a hand and turns back to the fire. "It's all right. I remember being where you are...watching Druitt and Watson...but it's just...Magnus and Druitt are two very human beings, two very good people I happen to care a great deal about, who've been through hell for twice as long as you could hope to be alive."

"I can't imagine."

"No, you can't. That's the whole point."

"Right." Then after a quiet pause, "You said she surprised you?"

Will lets go a bittersweet laugh. "Yes. She...it came right after the day the Sanctuary seemed to be haunted, and we learned the nature of Druitt's curse." And for a while they speak of teleportation and electric abnormals and nerve gas and ventilation shafts, and Orman scribbles madly in his notebook. Then they come to the point of the story Will wishes to tell.

"He was gone, then?" Orman prompts. "You had no way of knowing where?"

"No. It was some time, before...well...that's a story for another day."

"So, that evening, you..."

"We patched the Sanctuary back together. Like always. Kept putting one foot in front of the other. It got very late very fast. We'd all...had a hell of a day. Not the first time, but... Everything was finally quiet, everybody settling down for the night. Ya know, that time at the end of the crisis when you start to suddenly realize how long it's been since you slept, and how sore your muscles actually are? I think everyone else had gone back to bed. I was ready to crash, and I went down to Magnus's office to check in. She was sitting on the back of the settee, ankles crossed, some sort of report in her hand. She looked up as soon as I came in, and I...well, I pretended I was just there to check in with her about work, see if she needed anything else that night. Like I always did. But then my nerve kicked in, and I said....

---

...you all right?"

Her answer was too brisk. "Mm hm."

Will held her gaze for a long beat, studying her, waiting her out, but all he got was a mild lift of her eyebrow. She had softened with the hours. Her tie was gone, blouse unbuttoned to be just a bit revealing, vest hanging open. Her make-up had worn down, and the firelight warmed her features to something more real than the intimidating figure she could present during the day. He felt privileged to be one to see her like this.

But he also felt the tangible wounds, and he knew she was travelling through hell and hadn't said a word. He drew a careful breath, considering every step forward. "Look," he began softly, "Magnus, I know it's not really my place, but--"

"You're my best friend, Will. It is your place."

Years had passed since Will Zimmerman had been at such a loss for words.
Magnus lowered the file to rest on her thigh and gazed at him in patient silence.

Will tried his reply, cleared his throat, then managed, "I'm...really?"

Her gentling features molded into a fleeting smile, awash in sadness. Her eyes fell heavy, showing the wear of the long hours. "Yes. It's all right if I'm not yours. You are allowed to have a life outside of this place."

With that he couldn't suppress a reciprocal smile. "Magnus." He stretched his arms wide and looked pointedly around the empty room. "You see anyone else around me? Of course you're my best friend."

She graced him with a shy, but genuine grin. They lingered in the warmth for a beat.

"So you were about to stick your nose into my personal life, I believe."

"Which, apparently, I'm entitled to do."

"You are."

The playfulness fell away as he contemplated his next words. "Magnus. I don't pretend to know a fraction of what exists between you and Druitt. But just knowing what I do know, knowing what you told us went down today, what you learned, what you saw...I can only imagine this has gotta hurt like hell."

Her gaze had settled on his boots, and she offered no glimpse of eye contact as she said softly, "That would be a fair assessment of the situation, yes."

"Magnus..."

She raised her eyes, cocked her head with a sort of bitter glance of inevitability. Something he guessed she had mastered far better than most humans. She started to speak, but fell silent. She looked deeply, achingly tired.

Will took a step nearer.

"My stomach hurts," Helen whispered. And Will felt like he'd had the air punched out of him. Because these were the most vulnerable words he'd ever heard cross her lips.

His voice was a thin thread, "Magnus..."

The silence pressed on his skin.

"Do you want me to...I can make you some ginger tea?" he offered, because he couldn't fix the hurt, he could only patch the wounds.

Magnus shook her head, "No, you...," then she winced slightly, seemed to catch on a thought he couldn't hear, "...actually...yes, that would be nice."

"Okay. I'll...I'll go make some tea, and...then maybe we can sit and talk while we sip?"

"I'd like that."

He held his breath, then turned and took a few halting steps toward the door.

"Will? Could you, um...could you bring back an ice pack as well?"

"Wha...uh...sure. What...?"

"I...," she tried a couple of times to reply, struggled with words he wished desperately to hear, but he saw her let go of the effort and resign herself to saying simply, "my ribs are bruised."

He let the omission stand. "Okay. Do you need me to take a look at it?"

She shook her head. "No, it's all right. Nothing broken, just sore."

"Okay. I'll be right back, all right?"

"If you come right back it's instant."

A hint of a smile played on his lips. He welcomed the spark like a child in a dark closet. "Do you want to come to the kitchen with me? Observe my work?"

She nodded. "Yes."

"Well, then, let's go."

Magnus stacked her files on her desk, grabbed her cell phone, and then trailed a step behind him as he lead the way through the shadowy and winding halls.

---

"She let you care for her, then?" Orman asks, his own fatigue showing around the edges of his dark eyes.

Will flexes stiff fingers and gives a simple nod. "She did. Seems we were always patching one another up. I was never so glad I'd chosen med school."

"Did you learn what had happened to her ribcage?"

Will stares into the fire. Orman added a fresh log some time ago. "She never said," he replies. Which is true. She never said a word. But Will and Henry reviewed all the security camera footage, standard Sanctuary procedure after any intrusive incident, certainly after the death of a refugee in their own halls. They watched the recordings, watched the man Helen had loved for a century and a half slam her to the ground and kick her across the floor like a mongrel dog. Henry looked ill. Will didn't eat for a day afterward. Helen's movements were stiff and careful, the change hardly noticeable to the untrained eye.

Orman doesn't speak, and Will guesses he understands there's more. There's always more.

"That's all for tonight," Will says, no question in his tone. His own ability to lead, to command, has grown considerably through the years. He once deeply envied his mentor's ability to lift an eyebrow and bring silence and order to a room, while his own directions fell from his tongue like suggestions and were generally treated the same by their recipients. The imbalance righted itself with the decades.

Orman responds to the finality and gathers his things. "I'm sorry to have kept you up, Dr. Zimmerman. You don't know how much I appreciate--"

"It's all right," Will says.

Orman reaches out to shake the old man's hand, and his touch is warm and firm, skin heated by the fire. Will does not miss the drafty halls of his longtime home. "May...may I return tomorrow?"

"Bring donuts. This place is filled with health food."

For a moment Orman looks completely disjointed, then his face softens into a smile. "Donuts you shall have," he says. "And I will show myself out."

The small click of the door, the beep of the security system, and Will is alone. Memories whisper around him like ghosts.

*****

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