Author's Note: Oh, next chapter. Don't get used to such a quick update, I may be relatively reliable on that front but I already had this written when I posted the prologue.

Disclaimer: I do not own Sanctuary, or the characters therein, nor any historical events or personages mentioned. I simply borrow and occasionally adapt them for entertainment purposes only. Although, this story idea remains mine as does the writing and any and all characters/species of my own creation.

Sanctity

Chapter One: Exposure to a Flame

Old City Sanctuary: 2010-ish

Helen slowly slipped the white glove from her hand, watching numbly as it quietly peeled away from her fingers. The other glove followed the second just as sedately. It had been a long, hard day. She had just performed an autopsy on a Etheroptera, an amazing species of abnormal whose stunted and useless, but incredibly beautiful wings folded into hollows on their backs. This one was a young woman by the name of Silva. Though she had never personally met the woman, she had met the woman's grandfather. It must have been... eighty years ago? Eighty-five? Sometime in the late 1920's when he had emigrated to America. He had only been a teenager at the time.

Twenty-five was definitely too young to be laying stretched out on her autopsy table. The cause of death was an illness common to the species, but one that should not have been life-threatening. Not unless it was compounded by a severe case of treatment-resistant rabies from a bite suffered only two months previous. She had known the details even before she started but still, she had wanted to be sure, just in case the illness had mutated or the rabies had. One couldn't be too careful. Unfortunately, Helen had been conscious for a full forty-eight hours previous with an incident involving a black market smuggler, so to top it off with an autopsy that took ten more hours hadn't been one of her better ideas. The fact that said previous incident had resulted in a rather nasty bruise traveling across her right shoulder-blade down over her spine to her left hip wasn't helping matters either. As things stood, she was having trouble moving at all. Her right hand and arm were feeling almost completely numb now that she was done, and a nerve was being pinched at her hip, causing jolts of pain to go shooting down her left leg. If Will were here, she would be in for a severe scolding.

Taking comfort in the fact that he was not, she slipped off her white lab coat and limped over to the cabinet against the wall. Retrieving several bottles from the shelves, she shook two tablets, a large green pill and a liquid filled capsule into her palm, downed them dryly and slipped the bottles into her pockets. She then left the lab for her rooms. Once there, she got out of her clothes and took a hot shower that was long overdue. That was one thing she really did enjoy about the advancements over the course of her years. As much as she loved the occasional bath, the convenience of a shower just could not be praised enough. She much preferred the pain of the water hitting her bruise than the pain of hauling herself in and out of the bathtub. Finally, she turned off the water and pulled an overlarge towel about herself. It was then that she realized she was not alone.

Spinning quickly, she had her feet planted and fist raised in a defensive posture, ready for whatever new threat had surfaced. The towel she had tucked under her arm slipped just a little, but she ignored it, too shocked to care. The one threat she had truly not been expecting was leaning in the doorway watching her. She straightened a little. "What in bloody hell are you doing in my washroom, John?" She grated around her teeth.

He tilted his head at her. "It's nothing I haven't seen before, Helen." His voice was quiet.

Her glare could have melted steel. "It remains everything you are no longer allowed to see. Why are you here? And I want a straight answer or I shall call for security immediately."

"I'm not even allowed to say hello anymore?" He frowned.

She was not even remotely in the mood for this. In fact, she was tired right down to her bones and achy with both fatigue and the battering she had taken earlier. She pushed past him into her room and grabbed her radio from the small end table where she had set it.

He was there instantly, one hand coming to rest over her own, stopping her from doing anything more.

Helen jerked away and glared at him even harder. "The truth."

A sigh left his lips as they curved just the barest bit in a sad smile and he held his hands out to the side, sketching a bow that might have once been gentlemanly but now only seemed mocking. "Very well. I come bearing a message from a mutual acquaintance who is in need of your assistance. I gave my word that I would deliver it."

Her curiosity officially piqued, she dropped her arm from where she had been holding the radio close to her mouth, ready to follow through on her threat. "Who?"

"Ethel Linaman. " He said, quiet again.

Eyes wide, she strode over to her closet. "What's wrong? What's the message?" She pulled a dress from the closet, one that she could slip on without needing to expose herself before her former fiance.

"Only that there was trouble and that you were needed."

That surprised her. Surely if there was a problem, Ethel would still have remembered to contact the UK Sanctuary. James may be dead, but there were any number of residents and staff that had met the young woman. Helen paused. Old woman by now. Somewhere in her nineties. Stepping into the dress, she pulled it up and slipped her arms inside with a little difficulty, hissing a few times in quiet pain. She finally got to the point where dropping the towel was her only option, but as she tried to zip up the dress, she couldn't help but whimper a little as the pain from her back spiked at the awkward angle she tried to twist her arms into.

Suddenly, hands were there, pushing hers aside. She made to move away, but John's voice growled low. "Let me help, Helen." Before she could try to step away again, John bent a little and breathed on the bare skin of her shoulder. She was effectively frozen, his hot scent sending a shiver down her spine. She clenched her teeth on the yelp that wanted to escape her lips as the movement pulled at her bruise.

It seemed he could tell that something was off and gently took her wet hair in hand and pushed it away over her shoulder so he could see. Then his softly calloused fingers were sliding gently over the bruise, across her shoulder blade, down her spine to the small of her back, going lower still...

Startled, she practically leapt away from his touch, turning to glare at him even as her cheeks heated.

He simply seemed resigned to her reaction, smiling only slightly without humor. "I see you haven't changed much. Still throwing yourself headlong into dangerous situations."

"I see that you've not changed much either, John." She said scathingly.

"The zipper is low, Helen, that is not my fault." His voice held a hint of anger now. He was fast, reaching out and spinning her so that her bare back was to him again. Without lingering this time, he grasped the zipper and slid it up her back.

She hurried out of his reach again.

"I've delivered my message." He bowed again, but this one seemed more genuine and less mocking. It made her heart clench painfully. "With that, I shall take my leave." He went to her door without another word and disappeared through it before she could say anything.

She let out a shaky breath. There wasn't enough time to dawdle now and lingering over the effect of John's entry and the familiar ache of his departure, fell within that context. With the knowledge of this new development, she was very glad she had dismissed the idea of taking sleeping pills to see herself quickly asleep and ensconced in a dreamless coma-like state, for the pills would have been even more unforgiving than her body was being. She fixed her hair as best she could, tying it up in a knot so that it was out of the way and put make-up back on her face. It was a quick matter to slip her shoes on her feet, though her legs very much protested the action. As she stood, she swayed a little before shaking it away and going to find Henry.

In his lab, the HAP was asleep on the stool at his computer. His face was plastered to the table top. Rather than wake him immediately, Helen simply smiled and stared for a minute. To be honest, Henry was the closest thing she had ever had to a son. He had been raised here in the Sanctuary, right alongside her own daughter. She still remembered the time he and Ashley had been brought to her by her old friend, the Sasquatch, both looking sheepish and covered from head to foot in mud. The idea of it still brought a smile to her lips. Occasionally, it was hard to separate this view of him from the knowledge that he was a capable member of her team. The technological aspect of what he did at the Sanctuary was almost second nature for her now to take for granted, but having him insist on going out in the field, just as Ashley had once done, was far less so. She tilted her head. He did look so peaceful when he was sleeping. A gentle hand on his shoulder roused him.

"Oh, Doc, sorry. I was just-" He cut off the spiel from his mouth before it became a flood for which she was grateful.

"Henry, by any chance, did you disable the security system or the EM field for the living quarters last night?"

He blinked. "Yeah, I just took the security system offline for a second earlier to fix the... but I..." He turned to his computer and then finished his statement with his eyes closed. "I... forgot to reactivate it."

"Please see that it is reestablished."

Henry paused. "You asked about the EM field, that doesn't mean..."

"The system, Henry." She reprimanded gently. "And I am in need a flight to the UK, the next one to depart if you can."

"O-kay." He said, drawing out the word unsurely. "Any particular place or reason?"

"The United Kingdom please, Henry, near London."

"Alright, it's just..." Henry hesitated.

Helen just raised an eyebrow at him.

The young man groaned, then continued on as though resigning himself to his fate. "Will's gone and he usually-"

Her patience evaporated just like that. "I do not need a babysitter, Henry."

"Hey, you're the one who said solo missions are usually a bad idea."

"I can handle myself." She answered in all seriousness. Really, how incapable did they all think she was?

"Well, yeah, but-" He winced at the glare she gave him. "If... if Druitt..."

Once more, she just raised a single eyebrow his way.

His shoulders slumped. "He's the chink in your armor. I just thought... that it would be wise to have backup, wherever you're going, whatever you're doing."

Helen looked at him in sudden understanding. "Do you mean... were you trying to offer your accompaniment, Henry?"

The boy looked at her sheepishly. "When it comes to Druitt, you really shouldn't be on your own, Doc. I may just be a tech nerd but I can still have your back."

Her face softened measurably. She laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Two tickets then."

He grinned at her.

"Pack light." She warned as she left the room. Ah, what a softy she was turning out to be. Still, he was correct. On an uncertain mission, with unknown perils, it wasn't wise to go alone. Add John to the mix and she had the distinct impression that she was going to regret not getting sleep when she had the chance.

They disembarked from the plane early that afternoon. During the nine hour plane ride, Helen had managed to sleep for about three. More than enough to keep her going for a while yet if she didn't do anything strenuous. She had already called Declan, head of the UK Sanctuary, to inform him of their unscheduled trip, but had declined his offer of both a car and back up. If she ended up needing it, then she would call. Instead, they immediately got into a cab and she gave the address of James' old home. The building itself had been willed to the Sanctuary network as a whole and was currently housing about fourteen residents. However, it was not to that particular building that she was headed.

After stepping out of the cab, she bypassed the house and went around back, Henry close on her heels. A tiny home, perched on the edge of the property and bursting with vegetation around it, belonged to Ethel Linaman, and had since the death of her mother in 1948.

Helen glanced at her watch. Barely an hour and a half had passed since they left the airport. The day was overcast and the very air felt wet even though the temperature was comfortable. At first glance, nothing appeared amiss. Cautiously, she stepped onto the front path. When nothing occurred, she made her way slowly to the front door. Henry was glancing furtively around them, no doubt picking up on her own heightened anxiety. Taking her hand off the weapon at her hip, Helen knocked. It was a long moment before the door finally opened and then only a crack.

"Yes?" A male voice asked from within, pitched low. The person's face was shrouded in shadows.

"Hello." Helen answered, trying to sound kind and nonthreatening. "I'm Dr. Helen Magnus. I received word from Ms. Linaman, along with a request for assistance."

The door opened wider and Helen understood why the boy had not shown his face. The scaly spots along his neck and under his eyes was a vibrant cobalt blue. He wore a hat that covered the expanse of blue scales on his head. She smiled. It had been some time since she had seen one of his species.

At her unfazed reaction, the door opened wide enough for her and Henry to pass through. The house inside was musty and overheated. A grandfather clock in the hall ticked away the time while the hard wooden floors announced their presence at each step.

"This way, please." The young man said.

Helen followed him silently as he led them through a sitting room and into a dining area where an old woman sat spooning soap into her mouth shakily. Without waiting for an invitation, she sat in the chair next to the woman.

"Helen." The woman intoned, without looking up. "I had hoped you would come." The woman spoke slowly, her voice tremulous with age but still holding the same burr-like accent of her youth.

"John delivered his message, but I'm afraid it was rather vague."

"Of necessity. You don't honestly think I'm stupid enough to give Mr. Druitt any pertinent information, do you? Dr. Watson warned me about him."

Smiling in understanding, Helen sat forward a little. "So, Ms. Linaman, care to inform me as to why I am here?"

The old woman finally set down her spoon and looked up. Her watery eyes regarded Helen sharply, as though assessing something. "You haven't aged much, dear Helen, if at all."

"We all have our little quirks." Helen tried to keep her tone light.

Ethel nodded solemnly. "Dr. Watson spoke of you so often. He said there was no one better suited to get a job done than you. Always said there was no one more determined or capable."

At that, Helen only tilted her head and answered frankly. "He was a good friend."

"Yes, he was. He also said that I could call on you if I ever needed anything. He said you would come if I asked. Something about a promise that you made to him."

"Yes." Helen swallowed. "Well I'm here, Ms. Linaman, and you have yet to answer my question as to why."

"Call me Ethel, Helen. Ms. Linaman makes me sound so old and I'm younger than you are my dear."

"Ethel then." Helen sighed.

"My granddaughter and great-grandson have gone missing, Helen. That is why you are here."

Sitting back, Helen folded her hands in her lap. "Why not call on the Sanctuary itself? Surely you have contacts there that would do anything they could to-"

"You are the best." Ethel interrupted her. "I needed the best."

"I'm hardly more qualified than anyone working at the UK Sanctuary."

Ethel's hand shot out and gripped Helen's arm hard.

Having stayed silently in the background, Henry started forward but came up short when the boy from the door made a hissing growl deep in his chest.

"It's alright, Henry." Helen tried not to wince at the woman's surprisingly strong grip. "Why me, Ethel?"

The woman's eyes were intense and focused on Helen's own. Ethel did not release her hold, but leaned forward slightly so that when she spoke more quietly, Helen could still hear her. "I know about your daughter."

Helen flinched, despite her resolve.

"I face much the same thing." Finally, her hand released Helen's arm. "My grandchildren are in danger. I know they are. You are the only one I could think of that would not laugh my beliefs away like they were simply the prattlings of an old woman."

"And what are your beliefs?"

"My granddaughter is too much like I was. Bombs dropping all around us and I couldn't make myself leave the charge I had been entrusted with. Dr. Watson always meant too much to me." Ethel picked back up her spoon and took another sip of the soup that still steamed before her. "Lillian would not listen when she was told it was too dangerous to go. She said she had an obligation to see it through. That son of hers, Peter, wouldn't hear of staying behind either."

Unable to help it, Helen could feel her stomach sink. She could guess what was coming next.

"They said there was no hope. Refused to send someone after them when they went missing."

"By 'they', you mean the Sanctuary, don't you?" Henry asked from where he leaned against the wall.

Ethel shot him a glance, but quickly turned back to her food. "They wouldn't even try."

"Ethel..." Helen shook her head. The old woman's hand slamming down on the table startled her.

"They aren't dead!"

Once again on the alert, Henry settled down at the gesture of calm Helen sent his way. She was watching Ethel closely, wondering if this was indeed a case of people ignoring the facts, or if the old woman was just too distraught to see the situation for as hopeless as it was. She had been there. Felt that all consuming need to believe there was still a chance. Perhaps Ethel was right to call on her, for she truly did understand how that burned at your insides. Was there anyone more suited to the task? Perhaps, but who else would give the woman's hope an actual, thoughtful consideration? Making up her mind, Helen sat forward again, resting one arm on the table. "Why don't you start from the beginning, Ethel, and then I'll decide for myself if you need my help or not."