I am lost, I am vain || I will never be the same without you

Heavy rain beat down deafeningly on the roof, echoing through the huge house and sending chills through the room, despite the heater that was working tirelessly. Thunder rumbled in the distance, rattling the glass, and lighting boomed and crackled outside. Nikola stood on the rolling ladder, undeterred by the weather, running his hand across the spine of books, bored and looking for anything he didn't already know. Much to his surprise, Henry's recreation of his original idea for the device had been almost perfect, and Tesla had only had to make a few very minor adjustments. He had grudgingly praised Henry, but had quickly followed that up with a few stinging comments, which did little to diminish the proud smile that had stretched across Henry's face.

Now everyone was asleep; he could hear their gentle, even breathing in each of their rooms with his heightened hearing. It was soothing, in a weird sort of way. Casting a quick glance down at his watch, he noticed with a start that it was nearly 3 am, not that that bothered him. He had no longer needed to sleep after Helen had injected him with the source blood over a century ago.

At that moment, he heard footsteps approaching from down the hall, clumsy as though the person had just woken up, He looked down at the door to see Helen appear, holding her hand over her mouth as she yawned. Seeming to not notice him at first, she wandered over to the long table in the centre of the room and set down the thick book she had been carrying under one arm.

He began to descend the tall ladder slowly and soundlessly, and, when he was on the third step, jumped down, landing with a thud. Helen spun around, eyes wide with alarm and hands instinctively bawled into fists. Nikola simply grinned back at her deviously, walking over.

"If the public knew how childish you really were behind closed doors, Nikola, they would be in for a great deal of shock," Helen scolded, though her grey-blue eyes glittered with stifled laughter.

Nikola shrugged indifferently, "Then it's a good thing I'm a genius, huh?"

"And so modest, too."

He smiled crookedly and joined Helen at the table, opening the book and flicking through the pages while she watched. "You just had the sudden urge to read a good book at three in the morning?" he asked, looking at her from his peripheral vision.

"I found it in my room and thought I should put it back here."

"At three in the morning," he repeated amusedly.

She leaned forward and slammed the book shut, almost crushing his fingers; he looked up at her questioningly, though wasn't too surprised. Violent outbursts when in his company weren't rare. Finally, she let out a sigh and pulled out one of the chairs that rested at the table, sitting down. "I couldn't sleep," she confessed, "I tried and tried, but my mind refused to stop thinking about everything in the bloody world!" She paused before going on, "And when I did finally manage to get to sleep at midnight, it was full of nightmares."

Nikola raised his eyebrows sceptically. "You, afraid of a little nightmare?" She flashed him an irritated look. He wanted to be supportive; he wanted to make her a cup of tea and kindly discuss what was bothering her and haunting her nights, but he couldn't make himself do it. It seemed unnatural, after so long of trying to convince himself he didn't care. He had given up denying his emotions long ago, but there were still certain things he found foreign. So he did nothing, and knew she wouldn't be surprised. He tried to think of all the things that could be troubling her: John, her father, Ashley. When news had reached him over a year ago that her only daughter had died, he had mourned her death. It wasn't as if he and Ashley had been close, and the girl most likely hated him, but he had helped Helen in succeeding to delay her pregnancy back in the 19th century so that, when the girl was eventually born, it would be into a world where women were equals to men. The only reason he hadn't tried to save her from the Cabal was because he hadn't known. And he deeply regretted that, because he knew that a parent never got over the death of their child, so that could be added to the extensive list of things that made Helen's life a living Hell.

Helen blinked a few times and rubbed her eyes with her hands, letting out an exhausted groan. "What are you doing up?" she asked, voice distant.

"I don't sleep," he replied, frowning, "After this long, I thought you would have gotten the memo."

She shook her head, gritting her teeth, "Right, right. Sorry."

Instantly thinking up the cure to insomnia, he turned on his heel and headed for the other end of the table, scooping up the wine bottle and pouring a drink so close to the brim it was on the verge of overflowing, topping up his own glass while he was at it. Nikola placed the glass in front of her, and she looked up, gaze flicking from the man to the glass, before picking up the wine and pressing it to her lips. "I shouldn't be doing this," She swallowed.

He took a seat beside her, busying himself with skimming through the book she had brought in, "Then don't do it, but it is the best medicine," he answered, goosebumps running up and down his arms when he was close to her, and was relieved he had been wearing long sleeves. Nikola would have thought that after so long, his feelings for her would have begun to subside. But he had been proven wrong; he still felt breathless when he felt her body heat radiating off her, when she exhaled near his ear. He even loved her little habits, like how she drummed her nails against any surface available when she was concentrating, and how she was one of only two people that insisted on calling him by his first name when everyone else simply called him Tesla, the other being his late mother when he was a child back in Serbia. He hated how he felt so powerless around her, but was reassured by the many times he had been able to jump to her rescue, ready to kill anyone who dared threatened her. He may not have been the strongest person, but very possibly had the best reason to use what strength he did possess.

Science made sense. That was why he had always had such a passion for it. The rest of life, and certainly doctor Helen Magnus, was confusing, but that only added an exciting challenge. The thought made him smile inwardly; when he had still been in school, he had been the nerd, and his teacher had hated him, mostly because he knew Nikola was smarter than him. He still pondered sometimes how informing the teacher their methods were wrong at the age of ten had been deemed 'disrespectful', and had merited the cane. It was true, and his mother had always told him not to lie. Not that he really followed that rule. When he had graduated, he had decided to check up on his old classmates, to see if they had done anything particularly amazing. Nikola had discovered, with very little surprise, that more than one of them had gone on to work as milliners. Need he say more? What a sad lot. And to think they had once teased him in Britain over his accent; how did they like him now?

The thought also stirred other memories: when he had faked his death, he hadn't been able to stay away from Helen. Not that she had ever known, but every few months, he had checked up on her. He had used various methods to do so, never giving her the opportunity to know he was behind it. More than once he had hired people to crash into her on the street, simply to see if it seemed as though anything was wrong with her. A number of other times, he had driven past her with the windows up or left a gift in her letterbox, waiting around the corner to see her reaction. He had called her a few times, saying nothing and just listening o her voice, eventually apologising in Serbian and hanging up. The whole thing was rather childish and stalker-ish looking in reflection, but it had kept him sane.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, yet it wasn't awkward. They had known each other for such a long time that sometimes, on the rare occasions they were alone, they could simply enjoy each other's company. Of course, it was almost definitely more meaningful for Nikola, and others wouldn't believe it was possible to enjoy being around Tesla, but the point still applied, God dammit!

"I just…" Helen trailed off, and it was a few more moments before she continued, "Sometimes, I wish things had worked out between John and I. Okay, every day. I know I ought to detest him after all he's done, but… Well, I know I can't expect you to understand what being in love feels like."

Nikola was speechless. Not about the fact that she was still in love with John, though that did revive the old jealousy in him, but that she could think he had never been in love. Why was it that everyone else could see how plainly obvious it was he was chasing after her, yet, for once, she was oblivious? How couldn't she see it? He was certain she had been able to, and had just been rejecting him, which wasn't a whole lot better. Contrary to popular belief, he wasn't a heartless monster, though he could understand why people would think that. But she was different. She knew the real him. So what was going on now? It hurt.

It took a moment for him to realise she was staring at him, brow furrowed, "Are you sure you're okay?" she asked, "You look like you've just seen a ghost. You can tell me if something's wrong."

"I'm perfect," he muttered, averting his eyes as though the table were suddenly the most fascinating thing in the universe.