Sorry this took so long to get out, but after the last chapter, I didn't want to update something that I wasn't satisfied with. I rewrote a section of this several times until I could live with it. LOL. Hopefully, the longer than usual chapter makes up for it.

John strode over to the liquor cabinet and withdrew a bottle of whiskey, pouring two fingers in a tumbler and downing it all in one gulp. It did nothing to help his frustration at not being able to kill Jane. He poured one more.

It wasn't the physical act of killing her that he was having a hard with. It was never that.

The problem was in his head.

He had a type and Jane didn't fit.

He threw the tumbler across the room and it smashed on the floor in pieces. His eyes traveled to the small window at the front door. Dawn would break soon. It was a bad time to leave a body, but he couldn't just keep her here. Once it was discovered she was missing, the chances of HG banging down his door, begging for help, were moderately high. Not to mention that the police thought she had a line to the Ripper.

He only had a couple more hours to decide what to do. His eyes closed briefly, and he exhaled through his nose. Then they snapped open.

He'd kill her and dump her body now.

Or you could keep her, a sly voice suggested in his mind. Use her and get rid of her later.

No. He wasn't an animal. And besides, Jane wasn't his usual fare. Something about killing her wasn't satisfying.

What she said earlier about him not being a monster…

But you are a monster, the voice whispered. And soon, she'll realize that.

Indecision was terrible. He had to kill her, that much was obvious. But he knew it wouldn't please him as it normally did.

Just get it over with then. Do her quick in the alley out back and then leave her.

Setting his jaw, he made up his mind and then checked his watch. The time read four-thirty in the morning. He went downstairs and walked over to the pile of clothing that he'd taken off of Jane earlier.

He walked over and tossed the corset, chemise, and stockings on the table, eyeing the wound that had now slowed its bleeding. No use in stitching it up, he thought. She watched him warily. "I'm going to untie your arms. Dress quickly."

"Where are you taking me?"

"I won't repeat myself." He gave her a menacing look and then took his knife and cut the ropes at both her wrists. She rubbed the raw flesh and struggled to sit up, holding the sheet close to her chest.

"Can't you take those out now?" Her voice was tight with pain and she looked down at her feet.

At least she would have a hard time running away, he reasoned, leaning over quickly, and pulling out each needle, one by one. She whimpered at the first one, but he did the rest quickly, wanting everything to be over. Then he straightened up and folded his arms over his chest.

"Are you going to watch?" she asked, annoyed when he didn't turn away.

Wounded feet or not, he wasn't giving her the opportunity to escape. "Yes."

She scowled and didn't move.

"I've already seen you without your clothes. Twice. Do as I say and get dressed."

"You are such an asshole in this time," she snapped, grabbing her chemise and pulling it over her head.

In this time? Strange phrasing. "What language."

The corset she had a harder time with, but eventually got the front snapped in place. He cut the ropes at her ankles so she could put her stockings and boots on and then slipped the knife into his waistband. There wouldn't be much pain until she moved to stand. Walking would be excruciating.

He didn't care.

"What are you going to do to me?" She tried to sound brave, but he detected traces of fear and confusion in her voice.

"I've decided to let you go on one condition," he lied.

"What is it?"

"You leave London straight away. This morning."

There was barely a hesitation. "I will, I promise."

He nodded. It would be so much easier to control her if she didn't know what was going to happen. "I will hail a cab for you myself, and watch you get in it." He leaned forward and dropped his voice, low and menacing. "If I ever see you again, or if you tell anyone about me, I'll find you and rip you apart. Understand?"

She nodded mutely.

He smiled and held out a hand.

"Why are you letting me go?"

He dropped his hand and turned away, pretending to think. Softening his voice, he said, "I… don't want to be a monster, Jane. You were right. I do hate the part of me that is the Ripper-the darkness inside. But I can't help what I am."

She didn't say anything for a moment. Then, "You are a smart man, John."

A slight shiver ran down his spine at his name. He did like it when she said his name.

She continued in a soft tone. "You can be more than just a killer. You are more than just a killer. You're a doctor."

His shoulders tensed.

"I've seen the good in you."

His temper snapped and whirled around. "How can you say that after what I've done to you? What game are you playing, Miss Walker? There is no good in me." He was practically shouting by the last sentence. His breath came fast and shallow, and for one second, the desire he'd once had to kill her flared back to life.

But it passed quickly and he remembered his plan. Stick to the plan.

"Enough of this. Come. We don't have much time." He held out a hand to her. Would she trust him? Did she see through his facade? Had he ruined it by losing his temper?

Apparently not. She took his hand, hissing in pain as her feet hit the floor. He schooled his expression to one of concern. "Here, let me help you."

She let him pull her arm around his neck to brace her weight and they started up the stairs. He noticed how warm her hand was, curled against his neck. It was soft and small.

He hated it. A part of him wanted to fling her away and be done with her.

Focus on the task at hand, a voice whispered.

Gritting his teeth, he hauled her up the stairs and to the back door, off the kitchen. It was still dark out. Good. "Now stay silent and this will all be over with soon."

Jane shivered at his side when they stepped outside. The air was cold against her aching body. John maneuvered them down an alley toward a main street, beads of sweat forming in anticipation on his forehead. The only sound was the clicking of their boots on the cobblestone. John scanned their surroundings and saw no one.

Suddenly, Jane sagged at his side, her arm slipping from around his neck. Turning to catch her, he felt all the air in his body whoosh out from a sharp blow to his stomach.

What in the bloody hell?

He looked up clutching his stomach and saw Jane running away. Well, hobbling away. She'd hit him! Sudden white-hot anger stabbed through him and he chased her down, grabbing her by the hair and throwing her into the side of a building. "What do you think you are doing?" He dug his fingers into her shoulders until she winced.

"Getting away from you," she spat. "Did you think I was really going to fall for your plan? You were bringing me here to kill me!"

John smiled, dropping the act and withdrew the knife from the waist of his trousers. "I guess I was hoping."

Jane screamed and he clamped his free hand around her throat, cutting her off. She writhed and squirmed in his grip, but he relaxed when he realized she wasn't going anywhere. The tip of his blade dug into the flesh right under her left eye.

Hurry…

"Our time is at an end, Miss Walker. I usually enjoy a woman's screams, but tonight be a good girl and die quietly." He swung his arm backwards and prepared to plunge the knife into her stomach. A dull roar filled his ears.

And then a blinding pain exploded in his head and he staggered backwards, clutching it. His knife clattered to the ground. Right before everything went dark, he saw Jane limping away and knew he was done for.

XXXXX

A few seconds earlier…

Spots danced in front of Jane's eyes when John slammed her against the wall. She couldn't think for a moment. His hands were brutally strong, digging into the soft flesh of her shoulders.

His voice was low and dark. "Where do you think you are going?"

"Getting away from you! Did you think I was really going to fall for your act? You were bringing me here to kill me!"

She watched John's mask fall away and she trembled. He smiled down at her.

"I guess I was hoping."

There had to be someone close by, anyone who would hear her. She screamed as loud as she could until her throat closed off and she couldn't breathe. A large hand gripped her neck. She pulled and clawed at it, to no avail.

John said something then. "...time is … end. Be… and die quietly."

Black tinged the edges of her vision but she could see something to her right. A person. A man. Someone familiar...

John suddenly released her and she fell to the ground, coughing and spluttering. Someone strong gripped her arm and pulled her back up.

He was calling her name, distantly at first, and then louder and clearer.

"Jane? Jane? Can you hear me?"

Her vision focused and she saw John in front of her. Instinctively, she pulled away and tried to run. He tightened his grip and glanced down at the body at his feet.

"Jane, it's me. We have to go before someone sees us."

"John?" she whispered, frowning. He was different. His beard was gone, his clothes were modern, and most of all, the look in his eyes was … human. She sucked in a breath and looked at the ground where 1892 John lay sprawled unconscious. "Oh my god, you came for me." And intense rush of gratitude and relief filled her and she almost hugged him. Almost.

The fact that his past self had just tortured and tried to kill her tempered her response.

His dark eyes were full of concern. "Yes, but we have to go before he wakes up. Can you walk?"

She nodded. To get the hell out of Victorian England, she'd run.

"Let's go. HG is waiting with the time machine on the edges of the city. We couldn't risk either of our past selves seeing it before it was time."

Jane bit back a cry of pain and forced herself to walk quickly out of the alley and back towards the house she'd just been a prisoner in. John wrapped an arm around her shoulders to stead her and she resisted the urge to pull away.

He saved me, she reminded herself, and right now I need him. I can sort out my feelings later.

Every step she took felt like those needles were being pushed back into her feet, but she limped along. John noticed, glancing down briefly. His jaw clenched again.

"Jane…"

When he didn't say more, she looked up. "What? What is it?" She looked over her shoulder to make sure the other John was coming after them.

"I… I'm sorry. Truly."

What was she supposed to say? That she forgave him? No. It was way too soon for that. "Let's just get out of here."

He stopped and faced her. "You can't walk. I have to carry you."

"What? No." She really didn't want him touching her anymore and her temper was wearing thin. Her poor feet felt like needles were being jabbed inside them all over again, with every step she took. "I just spent the better part of my night being drugged and tortured by you, so forgive me if don't want you touching me right now."

Was that hurt in his eyes?

She ignored it and pushed past him, heading in the direction he'd been leading her.

"I have a man waiting for us just up ahead, around the house," he said finally, his voice sounding perfectly fine and not at all like she'd wounded him deeply.

"Fine."

They finished the journey in silence and when she saw the horse and buggy parked on the side of the street, she practically ran to it, sighing in relief. The driver was no one familiar, but he helped her inside, making no comment about her appearance. After all, she still looked like a prostitute.

John climbed in afterwards, never taking his eyes off her. She ignored him for the most part, but questions banged around in her mind, forcing to finally speak.

"How did you find me?"

"I remembered." His words were simple and yet so profound to Jane.

He remembered.

"I take it from your expression that this never happened in your timeline?"

Her tone was bleak. "No. It didn't."

He was silent for a long moment. "I've been dreading this day for some time now." She looked up at him in surprise. "From the moment I exited that time machine and saw your face…"

He trailed off and Jane swallowed hard. What he was saying was crazy. "The John I knew tried to kill me." He flinched and her eyes went hard.

"I was a different man, Jane-"

"I'm not talking about what just happened," she cut in. "I'm talking about the past. Our past. In 2016. You're a murderer. A serial killer."

"No. Not anymore."

"People don't just change, John-"

He lost his temper. His voice was a mixture of pain and anger. "That's not what you've spent the last few weeks telling me, Jane. The time we've spent together-in France … hell, everytime I see you-it did change me." He leaned forward too quickly and she withdrew, suddenly afraid that his temper would get the best of him and he'd attack her. His face looked pained at her reaction. "I know what I did to you. How I hurt you… I realize you can never forgive me for that, but just know that I would never hurt you again. I couldn't."

Before she could answer, the driver stopped the carriage quickly causing Jane to pitch forward. John caught her around the waist and shoulders, pulling her close against him.

"Are you alright?" he asked her in concern.

She nodded and for one split second, looking into his face, she remembered what it had been like to hold onto him while he kissed her … deep and slow… She remembered how he saved her life as she bled out on the floor of Brooke laboratory. How he let himself be hurt to get her medicine…

Then she pushed away and went back to her own seat. She was in no mood for memory lane. Maybe someday she could get past everything that had happened in 1892, but until then… she wanted nothing to do with him. She'd hit her limit for understanding him.

"We're here," he said shortly, descending from the carriage and holding out a hand. "You may not want to touch me, but getting down in those shoes, injured, isn't safe."

She glared at him and did it anyway, hissing and holding her breath in pain. Walking was excruciating! But then she saw the time machine and HG running over to them.

"Jane," he said excitedly, spreading his arms to help her into the machine.

She'd never been so glad to see anyone in her life. HG was a good man. Moralistic, generous… Not a sadistic torturer. She threw her arms around him and planted a kiss right on his lips. Drawing back, she said, "I've missed you so much."

HG looked stunned and confused. "What…? Uh, John?"

Jane frowned at HG and looked over her shoulder at John. He stood with fists clenched, looking as if he wanted to kill someone. A sliver of fear ran through her at the expression. It looked vaguely familiar.

Instead of answering his friend, John pushed past the both of them and bent over, entering the time machine. "Let's just go."

Jane was confused at the exchange. HG stood awkwardly to the side and gestured for her to go in. She did and limped over as far from John as possible. He didn't look at her.

HG got in last and then stuck the key in the slot and turned it. "Everyone ready?"

That didn't require an answer. They were more than ready. The machine began whirring and the windows iced over. A few seconds passed and then everything stopped. Jane had time traveled enough to know they'd arrived at their destination. She took HG's hand and gripped it hard, counting on him to help her up.

And while he did, the look on his face made her puzzled. Something niggled at her in the back of her mind, but she brushed it away. John was leaving and HG was helping her to exit the machine. Everything was going to be alright now.

"Jane, it's so good to see you." Vanessa beamed, walking over with outstretched arms to hug her.

"She needs a doctor," John said before walking out of the room.

Vanessa looked her over in concern. "You look tired. Are you hurt?"

Pressing a hand to her side, Jane limped over to a chair and nodded. "My stomach and my feet. Help me get these boots off."

Instead of HG kneeling to help her, it was Vanessa. Jane looked at him and frowned. While Vanessa worked her boots off, Jane asked, "What's wrong with you?"

His eyes widened. "Me? Nothing. It's just that you seem a little … strange. I know it can't have been easy and, of course, John wouldn't tell me anything. Only that you're life was in danger."

"Yeah, from him," she snapped, inhaling sharply when Vanessa tugged one foot free. "Why isn't he locked up or something?"

Vanessa and HG looked at each other. HG spoke first. "Have you too had a fight?"

Jane was rapidly losing her patience. "We've been fighting since the day we met, HG. Or have you forgotten what he's done?"

"I haven't forgotten," HG said slowly. "What exactly happened back in 1892?"

Jane expelled a breath and then told them everything. HG of course remembered her and was glad he could finally tell her.

"I never knew what happened to you when you disappeared. The police searched everywhere, but it was all dead ends. They eventually gave up." He came over to sit next to her. "I couldn't risk you knowing what would happen. I wouldn't even let John tell you, though he wanted to." Understanding dawned, as if some clue had finally been made available to him in his mind. "That's why he was so angry with me, so afraid when you'd been sent back."

"Why are you defending him?" she snapped, wincing when Vanessa freed her other foot. "He's Jack the Ripper, for crying out loud, a murderer."

HG looked at her in surprise. "I haven't heard you call him that since the very beginning."

Jane suddenly felt very tired. As if there were huge gaps in her understanding that she just couldn't fill. " Can we quit talking about him for now? I'm so tired."

They helped her to her feet and she let go and stood on her own. Turning to HG, she said, "Can we go somewhere and be alone? I've missed you."

HG shook his head and threw up his hands. "First you kiss me, and now this? Jane, I think you must have suffered some sort of head wound. You're acting very peculiar, indeed."

She gaped at him. "Peculiar? HG, I know you're old-fashioned but we've kissed before. I'm sure Vanessa doesn't mind our talking about it."

He gaped at her. "I've never done anything of the sort-

"Oh my God," Vanessa cut in, staring at Jane. "The timeline's changed, hasn't it?"

Jane looked back and forth between them, noting the bewilderment on HG's face. "No matter how it's changed, there's no way something like this could've… HG, what are we to each other in this timeline?" She swallowed hard, feeling as though she knew he answer to that before he even spoke.

"Nothing more than very good friends, I assure you. John would kill me." He snorted and then looked very apologetic. "Bad choice of words, but you know what I mean."

The niggling feeling in the back of her mind grew stronger. She could no longer ignore it. "What are you saying? That I- That John and I-" She couldn't bring herself to speak the words.

HG grew uncomfortable with the situation, but Vanessa helped out. "You two have become close, recently. He's actually been helpful, though I'm loathe to admit it. I mean, it's not as though we're all one big happy family or anything, but there's an understanding."

"What they're trying to say, and failing miserably," John cut in, appearing suddenly in the doorway looking irritable, "is that I love you, Jane. And whether you wanted to admit it or not, you loved me too."

She looked at him, shocked.

"Except you can't remember that."

Finally, the chapter's done!

Alright, so I figured as I was writing this that there would be questions about the last part. About how realistic the changes to John, Jane, and HG would be. Don't worry. I plan on addressing what happened in the alternate timeline in the next chapter. Basically, John becomes fixated on Jane, while trying to figure out who she is and how she came to be in the past. Things go from there.