Author's Note: Okay, you guys are cute. Like- really cute. Be calm, my lovely reviewers, calmé.
Disclaimer: I sort of wish I owned the characters and show, but I don't and they seem to be in capable hands.
Sanctum
-((-))-
Missing
Helen's POV-
The once heavy and thick silence in her bedroom, now muted by the cloak of darkness, was disturbed as Helen started awake. Eyes fluttering open blearily, she gasped out a cry quiet enough that it barely made to her ears, but she still turned to further muffle it into her pillow on instinct. Deeply shaken and disoriented, she panted short breaths into the soft fabric of the pillow case, trying desperately to shake the disturbing dream that still clung to the edges of her mind. Her heart continued to race quickly inside her chest, beating out a strong and unsteady rhythm that she could feel tingling in her fingertips. Unsure if she really was awake or still dreaming because of the fuzziness smothering her from her pain killers, she pressed said digits into her eyes and tried to push the raging fear away. Eventually, her body lost some of its rigidity and relaxed. Once she was calmer and her heart slowed down so that it wasn't aching so acutely, she removed her hand and started blinking rapidly at the dark shadows near her head. Her back was chilled, the thin layer of sweat cooling rapidly exposed to the cold air. She found herself wishing for a blanket to be draped over her upper body. It was only then that it crossed her mind to wonder at the fact that no one had come to her side; not a single person that could reassure her that she was, indeed, back in reality. As the thought took hold, her breath caught in her throat on a lump and her ears strained. It was so very quiet.
Her senses picked up no movement, not even the soft stir of sleeping breath. Immediately, she knew without looking that there was no one else in the room. She found that fact just as disquieting as her nightmare. It was the first time she had ever woken alone when she managed to struggle up from her deep sleep and the fog of medication.
Almost instantly on edge, she turned her head to get a better look. Night had fallen outside. Stars twinkled in the black velvet of the sky and a small outside light illuminated the room in a dull sort of way. She couldn't help but groan as she shifted. Laying on her stomach was more comfortable for her aching shoulder and chest, but far less so for her leg. Using mostly her left arm, she lifted the top of her body slightly, feeling the gentle ache in her spine as it arched upward. It had been a eventful few weeks, to put it mildly, and her body was feeling the full strain. Memory of the emergency helicopter ride was hazy at best for her. There was a vague impression of a hand holding hers, but nothing more. She had lost consciousness several times, fading in and out like an old radio with a bad connection. Her hospital stay had been trying, confined to a bed and pumped full of drugs, but Nikola's presence had made it bearable. A presence she now felt lacking.
She lowered her head and swung it back and forth slowly to clear it. A quick peek at the clock showed that it was rather late, which was confirmed by the churning inside of her empty belly. Straying from the tiny red lights, her eyes alighted on the chair where she had last felt Nikola's hovering concern, only to find it was indeed empty. Twisting her hips, she turned her body so she could sit up, the covers around her hips sliding down her thighs. The movement exposed her leg wound, the doctors signature of knotting clear, the cross-stitching looking dark against the paleness of her surrounding skin. But after a second of staring at them, she lifted her eyes again. She waited for a heart-stopping moment, hardly breathing. The silence held and a hollowness crept unbidden up into her chest. A vice formed around her throat. Leaning back, propped up by her good arm, she bowed her head. She couldn't have said how she knew that he hadn't simply stepped out of the room, but she could feel it. In the air, in her body; In her heart. It took all her strength to fight off her irrational tears as they bit at the corners of her vision, chest beginning to ache again in response.
He hadn't even said goodbye.
She shook her head viciously. Stupid, that's what she was. Stupid and silly. He couldn't stay here forever, in this room... by her side. Of course he was gone and of course he hadn't said goodbye. He had stayed far longer than was normal for him and he had never said goodbye before, why should he start now? It wasn't like she wasn't going to see him ever again either. They always came back into each others lives, whether they intended to or not. They'd see each other again...they had to, didn't they? It was as Cornelia had said, they were there for each other in crises, and heaven knew they always had plenty of those. This was just his usual MO. He was always here one moment, the next, gone without a word. It made sense, she tried to tell herself. Time rolled on by differently for them than the rest of the world. It had since 1886, when they had taken the serum made from the source blood. There was no reason to-
A tear slipped from her damp lashes and slid down her cheek. Disgusted with herself, she sat up again, scrubbed it from her face, and then flung the covers away. She carefully swung first one leg, then the other over the side of the bed, took a moment to push down the answering wave of nauseating pain and stood. A hiss passed her lips as the still tender contact burns on the bottoms of her feet met the usually soft rug on the hardwood. After a minute of teetering though, she grit her teeth against it and slowly walked over to her closet, using passing furniture to help her keep her shaking body upright. The spark of anger gently simmering in her gut gave her fuel to turn on a light and yank the wardrobe open. She was tired of hospital gowns, tired of being fussed over, tired of Nikola's soft voice gently teasing her for sleeping so much and in such a skimpy nightgown, tired of smiling at him as he did his best to distract her and make her feel better. She was just... so damn tired.
Taking a shaky yet steadying breath, she viciously shoved down any more tears and buried her hurt in anger. Movements sharp and sudden, she tore an outfit from a hanger and started to dress herself. It took her almost an hour to do it properly and sapped her of all her strength, but eventually she managed to pull on a suitable ensemble. Standing before her full length mirror, dressed in a neat suit that downplayed the bruising sneaking up her collar bone and throat, she felt once again like she was protected from the world. The sling she'd had to slip around her right arm slightly spoiled the effect, but she still looked imposing and it gave her hope that it would also protect her against her own pain. Her hair didn't look very good, she observed, but it was the best she could do with one arm. As she stared into her own eyes, she felt like maybe she really could survive the world falling out from underneath her feet. She had done it before; many times, in fact. Surely this was no different. Surely.
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