Author's note: There's a little bit of strong language in this angsty chapter. Emotions are flying high. And in Helen's case, the early stages of raging hormones.
Tempest in a Teapot
Chapter 28: Little Girl Lost
John barely heard James before his head exploded in pain and he was knocked off the bed. The last thing he heard was Helen's shriek as he struck the floor and everything went black.
"John!" Helen cried as she watched him fall onto the floor and hit his head. She pushed down the covers to get off the bed to go check on him.
"Stay right where you are!" James ordered, groaning and clutching his right hand to his chest. "Damn it," he thought to himself as he could feel his hand throbbing and already beginning to swell. He probably just broke his hand knocking the big ox flat.
"Why did you do that?" she demanded, leaning slightly over to the side to look down at her lover. She heard him groan and was relieved to see that he was reviving already.
Stunned, John had opened his unfocused eyes and reached a hand up slowly to his face.
"Because he deserved it," Watson roared. "Just like you deserved to be put over my knee and spanked. What the hell are you two thinking, having a baby?"
Loud footsteps could be heard rushing down the hall and the door swung open to reveal the concerned figures of Langley and Mrs. Havers. She gasped as she looked around the room. The tall man was struggling to sit upright on the floor, Dr. Watson's face was red and he was nursing his right hand, and the woman in the bed, though she had quickly ducked her head when they entered, appeared to have been crying. "Is everything alright, Dr. Watson?" Langley asked as he stared down at the large man sitting on the floor. This man, John, was a frequent visitor to the Watson household and seemed to come and go of his own will. None of the household help ever recalled letting him in or out of the house.
"No, it is not all right," James shook his head. "We require some ice. Be so good as to fetch the ice and some towels," he coolly ordered as he glared down at Druitt, who was cradling his cheek and glaring back up at him. There was silence as the dismissed servants left the room and had closed the door behind them.
"You want to tell me why the hell you did that?" Druitt growled. Under his hand he could feel the tenderness and heat that signified the oncoming of a large, bruised swelling.
"Because someone needed to knock a reminder into you that you are wrongfully here in this timeline. You are not supposed to be altering the future for your own purposes!" Watson growled back. He looked back to Helen and glared at her too. "Him," James indicated with the motion of his head, "I can understand wanting to change the future. But you, Helen, you should know better."
"You think I did this on purpose?" she asked, appalled that he would think she was capable of being so selfish that she would deliberately tamper with her own history. "That I purposely got myself pregnant?" She pointed at John. "That he purposely got me pregnant?"
John snorted as he stood up, swaying slightly at first. "That's absurd. We are over one hundred sixty years old. Why would we possibly think we could produce another child?"
Bugger, James thought, where were those servants with the ice? He felt along his swollen hand to determine if he had broken his right hand when he belted the big lummox in the head. "Maybe because you are both over one hundred sixty years old and still alive," he retorted. "Pure vanity. You both know that your child dies in the future and you have decided to create a replacement."
"Get out," Helen ordered in a tight, angry voice.
Both men stopped their arguing and focused on the upset red head. "Helen, I…," James said, suddenly ashamed of his outburst. She was recovering from a recent attack by a deadly abnormal and here he was yelling at her.
"I said get out!" Helen yelled, tears streaming down her cheeks. When John started towards her she turned her anger onto him. "You too. Both of you. Just get out!" She rolled onto her right side to sob into her pillow. Her emotions had become too strong for her to keep under control. The mentions of Ashley and her death overwhelmed her. The moment of her only child's death began replaying in Helen's head over and over again.
James hung his head as John turned a furious glare on him. "Way to go, Sherlock. Happy now? Perhaps there's a puppy you want to kick too?" Watson raised his head to glare back at Druitt only to feel the unusual tugging sensation as John teleported them away. They arrived in the library where John roughly shoved his best friend into a wing chair and began to pace back and forth in front of him.
"I should drop you off the top of Big Ben," he snarled as he came to a stop in front of Watson and placed his hands on his waist. "What were you thinking, yelling at her like that?"
Watson sighed and rested his head against the back of his chair. "I lost my temper. I shouldn't have done that. It's just…"
"Just what?" John demanded. They were interrupted by a knock on the door and the entrance of Langley carrying two ice packs and hand towels. The manservant had been about to go upstairs when he heard the loud voices coming from the library and decided to investigate. He hadn't heard the two men come down but then again Dr. Watson had the ability to move about quickly without a sound. Those that worked for him had to get used to the doctor's suddenly turning up here and there with little forewarning. Langley withdrew gratefully from the room following his employer's dismissal. The tension in that room was highly unpleasant.
John flopped into the other wing chair and hissed at the cold as he held the ice pack against his cheek. He didn't need a mirror to tell him that his right cheek was a swollen mosaic of purple, yellow and red. Beside him, James grimaced as he held his ice pack against his swollen and bruised hand. The two exchanged grumpy glances.
Recognizing the irony of the situation, James remarked, "Look at us. This would be humorous if Helen weren't crying upstairs."
"Your fault," John quickly pointed out.
James nodded, temper completely deflated. "My fault."
Surprised that Watson had capitulated so easily, John asked, "Why did you lose your temper upstairs? Why does it matter to you that Helen's pregnant?" He suspected it was jealousy on his friend's part that induced him to throw his temper tantrum and he wanted the satisfaction of hearing James admit it.
Gulping hard, James stared off for a bit composing his thoughts. Finally he answered. "The new pregnancy, if Helen is indeed pregnant, is not really the problem. It's the first pregnancy that set my teeth on edge."
John's brow furrowed. "Why? Because you weren't the father?"
James pursed his lips petulantly. Helen's choosing John over him was still a sore spot, though he had been successful in keeping it hidden from her. Well, the younger version of her. He had no idea if the older counterpart was aware of his deep feelings for her. "No," he ground out. "I saw how difficult it was for Helen to postpone her pregnancy." He looked poignantly at his friend. "It torments her that she cannot have her child with her because of the danger the child's father presents." He got some childish satisfaction at seeing John's crestfallen face. "She carries on, holding her head up high, and pretends she doesn't remember that her child resides in limbo elsewhere. But it's always there… bubbling to the surface from time to time." Both men silently stared off for a few minutes contemplating those words.
"She delivered a child earlier this week when a neighbor's maid came to her for help. I had the pleasure of watching her hold another woman's child in her arms and start crying softly because it wasn't her own," Watson continued sadly. "It made me want to cry myself."
"Oh, bloody hell," Druitt muttered and lowered his face into his hands. He really hated being here, in this era. So many bad reminders, so much unnecessary pain… all because of that bloody energy elemental.
"Precisely," James agreed morosely.
Upstairs, Helen tossed restlessly in her sleep. The throbbing pain in her shoulder faded away as she was pulled further into her dream. She was entering her office followed by her long-time assistant and her old friend, all arguing over a recent capture. An important conference call to two of the other Sanctuary heads of house was about to take place and Helen needed to get her team back on track to focus on the call.
"There is no reason for destroying the abnormal," she insisted to Barney as she strode towards her desk. "It was just acting on instinct and trying to protect itself. It's secured in the SHU and of no threat to anyone now."
"And if it gets out and tries to sting us again?" Barney complained. His boss's zealousness for abnormal rights sometimes tended to blind her to the fact that many of them were extremely dangerous and perhaps a few should be destroyed for the better of all others. "We already have two of the team down in the infirmary recovering from the poisonous stings."
"Yeah, I'd rather not dodge that thing's stinger again," the Big Guy added in his gruff voice.
Helen rolled her eyes. "Well, unless it suddenly develops deposable thumbs, I doubt the creature will be able to work the keypad to open the door. I think we'll be okay as long as no one on the staff keys it free." She walked briskly around her desk and suddenly came to a stop at the unexpected sight before her.
On the other side of the desk, Barney saw the frown cross her face and placed his hands on the edge of the desk. "Magnus?"
"Ashley!" Helen said as she placed her hands on her hips impatiently, "What do you think you're doing, young lady?"
Laying on her stomach on the floor by Helen's chair, her six year old daughter had papers scattered on the floor and was busily coloring away with her box of 64 crayons. "Hi, mommy! I'm coloring," she grinned up at her mother.
"I can see that," her mother said dryly. "Why are you in here coloring and not upstairs in the nursery?"
"I'm a big girl now," the child proclaimed. "I don't want to be in the nursery anymore. I want to play down here with the adults."
"That's debatable," Helen answered and looked over at the Big Guy. "Who was assigned to watch over her today?"
Barney interrupted. "That would be Toshi. You know, one of our team members lying down in the infirmary recovering from a poisonous sting?"
She aimed an unfavorable frown at him. "I know who Toshi is, thank you."
"Magnus, the conference call," the Big Guy reminded her.
She began searching through the files on her desk. "I know, I know. I need the report in case the head of the Beijing House wants to go over the figures." She frowned as she searched through the files again. "It's not here."
"Uh oh," the Big Guy muttered, already guessing where the missing file went, and moved to the side of the desk to look down at the child.
Simultaneously, the same idea hit Helen and she straightened up to turn and look down at her errant daughter. "Where did you get that paper?" she asked in a tight voice.
"From your desk," the child answered, completely oblivious to the reprimand she was about to get. Proudly, she held up a picture she had just finished. "Look, mommy, it's a picture of our family," she explained.
Her mother didn't answer, just leaned down and picked up one of the pages. Yep, it was her missing report all right. "Ashley, go to your room," Helen ordered, the last of her temper about to snap.
"Why?" the child whined, hurt that her mother had ignored the picture she had made especially for her.
Leaning down to pick up all the pages, Helen replied through clenched teeth, "I said GO!" and yanked the colored page from her daughter's hand. Of all the papers to color why did her daughter have to ruin the one report she needed the most.
"Magnus," the Big Guy reprimanded softly as tears began to fall down the child's face.
"My picture," Ashley cried and began sniffling as she tried to grab it back from her mother. "Give it back. I'm not finished."
The loud ringing of the phone cut nosily into the room and snapped the last of Helen's patience. "I said go, Ashley. Now! I don't want to see you at this moment!"
The child turned on her heels and ran from the room sobbing loudly as she fled. Her mother groaned and hung her head before reaching for the phone. She ignored the look of reproach her old friend was giving her. He was extremely fond of her daughter and hated to see the child being reprimanded for anything.
Twenty minutes later the conference call had concluded successfully. Barney had returned to his office to tackle the huge stack of papers on his desk, grumbling as he left that he needed a vacation and a raise. The Big Guy had quietly left and she knew from the way he wouldn't acknowledge her that he was disappointed in her behavior. She sighed and leaned back in her chair. It had been an insane day. The team had brought in a dangerous abnormal who had managed to get free from its transport container and injure two of her team before it was recaptured. Barney was complaining about his workload and threatening yet again to retire, something she knew he was not yet ready to do. And the last minute conference call required all her negotiation skills to keep the peace between the two fighting heads of households.
She sighed again as her eyes fell upon the report. Curious, she flipped the pages over and looked at her daughter's drawings one at a time. The messy, colorful scribbles brought a smile to her tired face. Ashley was no Picasso but she was vibrant and creative. A soft laugh escaped her lips as she looked at the child's drawing of Sally the mermaid swimming with her hair flowing about in the water. Ashley had included a little figure of herself swimming with the mermaid. It was something she had wanted to do for some time now but until Ashley could learn to hold her breath long under water or scuba dive it was a dream that would go unfulfilled.
Helen flipped through the rest of the pages, coming to a stop at the last one. It was the family portrait her daughter had proudly tried to present to her earlier. A big smile spread across her face as she contemplated the image. She was guessing that the long haired figure holding hands with a smaller yellow haired figure were herself and Ashley. Beside them, a taller, hairy figure and a shorter one with spiky hair represented the Big Guy and Henry. The rest of the household stood to the right side of them and underneath all Ashley had written "my family." Regret slammed into her as she recalled yelling at her child and pulling the drawing away. "Oh, Helen," she reprimanded herself as she stood up and carried the drawing with her out of the room. She had a little one she needed to make amends with.
She arrived in the nursery only to find it empty, as was all the other bedrooms in their wing of the house. Frowning, Helen returned to the ground floor and went to the kitchen. There, she found her old friend chopping up vegetables for their dinner.
Disappointed at finding him alone, she asked, "Have you seen Ashley?"
He pushed the carrots and celery into a large, white bowl and began chopping up the potatoes. "No, isn't she up in the nursery?"
She shook her head and placed the drawing down on the table. "She wasn't in any of the bedrooms either."
"She's probably hiding," he guessed. "You did tell her to go," he reminded her.
She sighed. "Yeah, I did." In addition to the regret she was feeling, worry was starting to set in.
He peered over at the drawing and smiled as he saw his hairy representation towering over all the other figures. "Love the spikes on Henry's head."
Helen smiled and touched the spot on the drawing. "Me too."
"I'm sure she'll turn up soon enough," he said as he added the potatoes to the bowl.
"Hmmm," she murmured. She could wait for her pouting child to turn up or she could just review the security footage to locate her. Deciding she couldn't wait it out, Helen set out for the computer lab below. The Big Guy, recognizing the determined look on her face, wiped his hands on his apron and followed behind.
Together they rewound through the footage, starting half an hour back. Helen frowned guiltily as she watched Ashley running from her office in tears up to her bedroom. Shortly afterwards the child came out of her room wearing a large, purple backpack and clutching her stuffed dog to her chest as she walked down the hall. The footage showed her getting into the elevator and arriving onto the ground floor where she made her way down the hall towards the front door.
"Where is she going?" the Big Guy asked in confusion.
With a bad feeling spreading through her, she replied, "I've no idea." What in the world was the child up to? And why was she wearing a backpack?
When Ashley exited the front door, they had to switch the feed over to cameras around the grounds, rewinding until they located the child again.
"What's going on?" a child's voice asked from behind them.
"We're trying to find Ashley," the Big Guy told the boy, reaching over to ruffle his messy hair. "She wandered out of the house on her own."
Henry peered up at the screens. "She's wearing a backpack," he observed. "Is she running away?"
Helen started at that and turned to the boy. "Why do you think she's running away?"
The boy shrugged. "She's got Max with her. She can't sleep without him, you know."
The three watched as Ashley tried to get the front gates opened, failing to reach the keypad to unlock the gates due to her lack of height. Helen laughed softly as her unhappy daughter kicked the gates in frustration before moving off alongside the tall brick wall in search of another exit.
Shaking her head, Helen turned to leave. "I better go get her." She had just gotten outside the door when the Big Guy barked her name. Returning, she was about to ask why he was rewinding the footage when he hit the play button again and she saw her child suddenly fall through the ground.
"Ashley!" she cried and spun around to race down the hall, quickly followed by the Sasquatch.
"Holy cow!" Henry cried as he reached for the remote and rewound the film.
