Helen Magnus felt the fatigue deep in her bones, more exhausted than she had been in a long time. Every instinct that she had screamed for her to give in to the spiraling darkness, but the smallest voice of reason in the back of her mind demanded that she hold onto consciousness. She had to remember… remember…something important… She was so very cold. From far away, she could hear talking, people yelling. Where was she? Her head pulsed and a rivulet of blood crept hot down her face to her collarbone. Helen could feel her heartbeat in her temple. She heard James' voice yelling angrily, and Nikola's. Were they fighting again? If James had insulted Nikola's mustache again then heads would roll… But no, wait, that couldn't be – James wasn't… James had… was that Will talking now? Actually, he was yelling, why couldn't he just let her sleep? It truly was freezing, someone would have to light a fire, and perhaps tea… Earl Grey would be lovely… Why on Earth was everyone yelling, and what had happened? She had blown up the Sanctuary! No, that was weeks ago, this was different. This was… this was… Was she dreaming? Everything was spinning wildly fast, the entire room tilting wickedly like a ride at a fair. Ashley loved fair rides when she was little. Helen would have to tell…
Like a floodgate opening, memories and senses and sounds rushed in all at once. She could hear Nikola's deep vampiric voice, and Adam replying with glee infused in every syllable. Nikola always transformed when he felt vulnerable. She remembered everything, all the way up to the intensity and insanity of the look on Adam's face as he whirled to fire his weapon. But that wasn't the most important thing.
Pain was everywhere, and the brief moment of respite her mind had granted her was over. It came in waves, tsunamis emanating from her abdomen, and Helen barely had the wherewithal to not scream out in complete agony. A secondary ache came from her head, where she had hit the cavern wall. Briefly she wondered how bad her head injury was, and if she should be more worried about that or her abdomen. A cold clinical part of herself reminded her that damage to her brain or her internal organs wouldn't mean much of anything if Adam had his way with her friends and the timeline, but she quashed that thought and tried to focus on what was happening.
Will was talking again. I am so sorry William. Even as a young boy, she had seen his promise. Helen could think of no one better to have as a protégé, a second in command, or successor. His mind was as least as sharp as James' had been pre-source blood, and his ethical compass was spot on and unshakable. Will would even contradict her at times, questioning everything… That was important in a protégé, even if it was bloody annoying. She knew from experience. Helen could recall several employees on the spot who hadn't even put up a…
Suddenly, Helen realized just how perilously close she was to losing consciousness again, and she knew that she would soon reach a point where staying awake would become impossible, no matter how much she fought or how important it was. Already, her focus was slipping again, as her mind flitted to memories of texts regarding acute injury and blood loss. Helen realized that she could no longer feel the constricting pressure of Adam's telekinesis on her. Already forgotten about me, Adam? She thought with a small wave of vindictive pleasure.
In impossibly small increments, she opened her eyes a slit, and winced at even the dim light she let briefly registered that Adam had his back to her. Helen felt a pang of distress as she saw that he had Will by the throat, but it subsided marginally when she saw that Will's feet were still on the ground and Adam didn't seem particularly intent on killing anyone at the moment. Except me.
With incredible care and a herculean effort, she reached slowly behind her and under her coat, to feel the browning automatic she had tucked in her waistband on a superstitious silly whim hours ago. That make and model of gun certainly has had its share of time travel, as have I. Helen extracted the gun millimeter by millimeter, thinking that any moment Adam Worth would turn around with a condescending laugh and crush her hope of saving not just her friend's lives, but the lives of everyone on, and in, the Earth.
Thank you for the lovely reviews, I truly appreciate them. I wasn't really sure whether this story was going to go anywhere, as it really started over a temper tantrum regarding the end of Sanctuary, which I just finished. Tell me what you think - I feel a bit like Moffat (with a fraction of the talent), putting Magnus through all this.
