Royal Air Force camp, North Witham, Lincolnshire, England.
June 3rd, 1944
Hidden against the wall of a barrack, she felt like standing in a graveyard. A lively graveyard. Of course, being trapped inside of her own past was somehow like having a walk between the graves but here was history writing itself under her very eyes. She could hear the laugh of the soldiers playing cards inside. The same soldiers who would die in a few days. She shivered as a raindrop fell right between the hem of her dress and the skin of her back.
She had done this times and times again. Seen a friend moments before he dies, knowing just how it happened and knowing she must not interfere in any way.
But this time, it's not exactly business as usual, is it? She thought.
She was not even sure he was going to show up. She had written him notes, time and time again, pleading him to see her. Each time she had similarly waited, sometimes hours in the cold, until her nose turned red. Why would it be any different now?
"It is good to see you, Magnus. But infiltrating a Royal Air Force training camp two days before a major military operation? Traveling back through time must have fried what was left of your sanity."
The army had made him good at creeping up to people without them noticing. That, or she had been too caught up in her morbid thoughts to hear him turn the corner of the building.
A wave of relief washed over her when she heard the shadow of a smile in his voice.
"It's hardly the first time I break into a military complex, I'll be just fine." She said, rolling her eyes.
Will's face was unreadable as he answered.
"You? Probably. What about me? I'll be in trouble if I'm seen here instead of under my scratchy blanket in the barrack." He said coldly.
Helen smiled.
"One last tryst with a nurse, who's going to blame you?"
He sighed.
"You're making this more difficult than it needs to be, you know?"
Oh she knew. She'd been in that timeline for more than half a century now. More than enough time to know how hard it could be to resist the temptation to write the future anew.
Wouldn't it be easy? How many lives could she save? But more importantly: how many lives would she trample under her foot?
As much as she hated the idea of losing Will, his sacrifice would save millions of lives.
She swallowed and took one of Will's hands between hers, anchoring herself to his warmth.
"What made you change your mind about seeing me?" She asked.
His gaze was focused on her fingers as he absentmindedly drew the lines of her phalanges with his thumb.
"The first time I heard from you, I wanted to punch you in the face. And I figured you'd beat the crap out of me." He confessed.
She tightened again her grasp on his hand and felt tears prickling at the corner of her eyes. So her worst fears were true then. She was the reason he was here, about to sacrifice his life
"How could I send you back to the past?" She wondered, searching his eyes but finding no trace of anger.
He frowned and suddenly realised her mistake.
"Oh no, no. You've got nothing to do with that." He promised.
She frowned. It was a different experience now. Usually, she was the one who had to bite her tongue so as not to reveal anything about the future. Now that the roles were reversed, she was having a hard time trying her best not to harass her protégé with questions.
"You won't tell me a single thing about it, will you?" She wondered.
Will shook his head and she let his hand go, getting her back against the wall once again.
She avoided his gaze as she took a cigarette out of its case and a lighter appeared in the corner of her vision. She let him light her cigarette and nodded her thanks as she took the first puff.
"I can't." He confirmed slowly.
She exhaled profoundly, the smoke of her cigarette trying to elevate, fighting against the rain that was pouring down.
"Where is my grandfather?" He finally asked.
It was a fair assumption that she wouldn't have sent him notes if she had not been sure that the first Zimmerman was out of the way. Providing him with that intel wouldn't change the face of the Earth.
"Down in Mexico with the woman he eloped with. I'm sorry Will." She sighed softly.
He scuttled closer to her against the wall, lighting a fag for himself too.
"To think my father brought me up saying we had a war hero in the family…" He sneered.
Helen turned her head to him, examining him closely.
"You do, though." She murmured with a sorry smile.
"Do they?" Will retorted, his gaze never leaving the rain falling in front of them.
That made her raise an eyebrow, but she remained silent, tapping the filter of her cigarette to make the ash fall from its tip.
Her lack of reaction let him know that she had yet to put two and two together, and he let the matter drop, thinking it would only make his pending death worse for the both of them.
"When you saw me for the first time, as an adult I mean, didn't you think it was weird?" He asked.
Their gaze met and she smiled faintly.
"Well, I did think the resemblance was uncanny. But I was not yet versed in the mechanics of time travel, was I?", she joked, "but then when I landed in my own past, I started to suspect there was some mischief in the whole Zimmerman business. I hoped I was wrong, you know. I really did." She let her voice fade in the silence as she breathed in again, fighting against the tears that threatened to come up again.
"It felt like swallowing rocks when I knocked on your grandparents' door and the man opened, bearing no resemblance to you."
She extinguished her stub under her heel as he placed a hand on her shoulder gently.
"Don't beat yourself up, Magnus. It's not your fault."
He had to convince himself of it at least long enough for her to not see right through him as she studied his face intently.
"I just don't understand. This loop makes no sense. I came to know your family because you saved my life in Normandy. But you saved me in Normandy because you knew me already. There's something missing here. When do I meet you for the first time, Will? What's the missing link?"
She was getting out of breath with frustration, and to be honest, Will had felt the same a while before. He had driven himself mad with that situation. He was still unsure, but in the face of death, finding the answer didn't matter much and could even disrupt the course of time.
He smiled.
"I'm sure you'll find the answer somewhere between now and the twenty-first century. But I doubt you'll ever tell me.".
Her stomach clenched. She had expected him to hate her, to blame her for the situation he was in, to have a thousand questions on his mind but he was standing there, tenderness written all over his face, being as cryptic as James could be sometimes, when he solved a riddle she did not have half the brain to understand.
His smile faded as his gaze clouded, and, after getting rid of his half-smoked fag, he took her hands in his and clenched them against his heart.
"Listen Magnus. The reason I wanted to see you now is that I don't want to die without thanking you." He began.
She shook her head disapprovingly.
"I don't see any reason why you should thank me." She protested.
"Let me speak."
That got her to silently stare at him, crossing her arms on her chest.
"Maybe my life would have been longer if you'd never recruited me."
She cowered at that and he caught her shoulder firmly.
"But it would have been a sad and outcast life." He added, forcing her to look at him.
"You gave me a purpose. You promised to show me a world of wonder, a world that I had always suspected existed somewhere just outside of my reach. I would have lived a lie without you."
She bit her lip. She had to concede he was right. From what she had seen, his life had been upside down before the Sanctuary had taken him in.
"It's not just a job that you offered me. I found a sense of belonging. A family I was desperately needing."
She looked at him fondly, tears threatening to fall.
"I haven't only recruited you because you're a Zimmerman. You know that, don't you?" She breathed softly.
He planted his gaze in hers and saw such love in there as he had not seen since his mother had passed, and that prompted him to pull her against him, hugging her tight.
"I needed you." She said in the crook of his shoulder, her arms coming to circle his back. "I don't know why, but I did."
He shushed her.
"Hey," he said in her hair, "we haven't always seen eye to eye, and sometimes I have behaved like a teenager in crisis. But I hope you know you're like a mother to me." He confessed.
At that, Helen crumbled against him, letting a heartful sob shake her whole frame.
"You don't have to die. James knows about me, we could save you, after all is said and done, without my past-self knowing any better." She rambled.
He hugged her shattered frame even tighter.
"And what then?" he asked calmly.
She disengaged herself from his hug enough to look at his face.
"You could have a new chance at life."
He sighed.
"My life is in the twenty-first century. Plus it could change the future." He pointed out.
She shook her head.
"Not if you keep a low profile. I've been doing that for a lifetime now, trust me." She pleaded.
She could see his resolve sway in his stance. He was weighting the pros and cons and he had very little time to decide.
"Please, Will…" her voice broke, "Stay with me." She implored.
He stared at her. He had been preparing himself to die for more than a year, resolve had soaked each of his cell, and only now was she offering him an exit. And he hated the fact that something deep in the pit of his stomach was pushing him to take it, was striving to get him to follow this woman for the rest of his nonsensical life, like a lost puppy.
"What are you suggesting? That I help you with your big plans for the Sanctuary?" He asked.
Her face lit up in the dark.
"You know about it!" she exclaimed, immediately regretting her outburst for fear her trespass would be discovered, "it must have worked then." She deducted, a smile replacing the anguish that had previously tainted her face.
Will blinked, sighing.
"I can't tell you." He reiterated.
"No, of course not. But you could help me make it work." She whispered excitingly.
Studying his face, she saw his hesitation and immediately felt a pang of guilt at her daring assumption that he would gladly go on serving the Sanctuary even after it had quite literally ruined his life.
"Or you could go and build a new life, wherever you want, be anyone you wish to be." She added, probing her heart for a sign that she would find the strength to let him go if he so decided.
"Think about it at least." She insisted.
Her protégé lit another cigarette, staring at the night sky.
"No pressure." He concluded, his voice dripping with irony as he puffed smoke.
That drew a side smile to her lips.
"I'm offering you a life of endless wonders." She said, straightening herself, chin up.
He turned his head to her, looking straight into her eyes.
"You're offering me a life." He corrected.
She nodded, keeping eye contact.
"It's the least I owe you."
He lowered his gaze, thinking hard as he drew on his fag.
She studied him while he did so, noticing how different he looked from what she remembered. He was the same, physically speaking at least. But there was a sharp edge to him that the hardship he was enduring had shaped. In that, he was no different from the youngsters in his company. Although they did not yet realize how the war was slowly reshaping them.
His voice burst her bubble.
"Don't get your hopes up. I could die on the spot out there." He stated.
She placed a hand on his shoulder, gripping him with the strength of her desperation.
"All you have to do is tell me yes or no. I'll see to the rest. Although…" she hesitated.
"You can't promise anything, I get it." He cut her.
She nodded again, wincing. Was it right to inject him with so much hope? It was a mad plan. She would have to involve James, who was not that easy to contact these days. Her plan also suggested she would have to fly herself to Normandy, risk being recognized, captured, or even killed. Or stumbling upon a naked and invisible Nigel roaming around the bocage.
It was an impossible mission, but she still had two days to get everything rolling. All she needed was Will's assent.
"What do you say?" She asked softly.
He filled his lungs with air before he exhaled sharply.
"Yes," He blurted out, "fuck yes." He repeated firmly, his voice shaking with emotions.
She closed her eyes and her shoulders dropped as a wave of relief flooded her system.
"Under one condition."
She opened her eyes again, intrigued by his seriousness.
"You have to promise me you'll give up if it's too risky, for you or the timeline." He explained, his jaw set, and his neck contracted.
She smiled and assented.
"You have my word."
She took his hand and they looked at the rain still pouring, safely sheltered against the barrack's wall.
They remained silent for a long while, relishing the feel of their palms glued together.
"I have to go." Helen finally whispered.
At that, the pressure on her hand tightened and she flashed a fond smile at her protégé.
"The rescue mission is not going to plan itself." She clarified.
He nodded and unclasped their hands, letting her go.
They exchanged a last gaze, heavy with all the things they wished they had the time to say, then Helen took a step back.
She was turning her back to him when Will spoke again.
"Magnus?"
She stopped in her track and turned her head, not exactly looking at him.
"If I don't make it…" He started.
Helen refused to look at him as she answered, instead focusing he gaze straight ahead, letting him stare at the back of her head.
"Whatever you have in mind, you can tell me in a few days. See you on the other side, Will."
With that she braced herself and stepped under the downpour, her image slowly fading away in the night as she ran away from her protégé.
Will leant his back against the wall and let gravity do his work, sliding to the floor with his knees bent. He needed a last cigarette to settle his nerves before getting back to his bunk bed for what might be one of his last nights on earth.
Two days later, he would be dispatched to Normandy, his mind set on saving the world once again, hoping Helen Magnus would be there to soothe him when he was to draw his last breath.