Title: A distant dream

Fandom: Sanctuary

Characters: Henry Foss, Will Zimmerman, Helen Magnus. Minor appearances by Ashley Magnus, Bigfoot

Rating: M, for explicit allusions to nummy, sexy acts that we shan't mention outright. A few instances of profanity and other strong or suggestive language.

Summary: A desperate, dashing rescue. Some answers, and some new questions. New beginnings follows my previous series in the same verse: One door closes. Set during and after episode 10 ('Warriors').

Warnings: Lots of SPOILERS for Episode 10: Warriors. You have been warned.

This story is quite clearly Henry/Will slash, and happily so. If you're afraid of, or otherwise offended by, SLASH then; might I advise you to RUN, not walk, away as fast as your little underage, or otherwise insecure/bigoted legs can carry you? Thanks. That will be all. What? You're still here? Oh. Well, then. Have at it, if you will.

Notes: Some of the dialogue in the series will be taken directly from the episode's script. (In this case, the fight ring scene). If you've watched it, you'll know exactly where it ends and my own begins. Subtext added by the author's fiery imagination for all things slash. (Although, after the boys' exchange during 'Warriors' I feel it's more text than subtext. Or maybe that's just my slashy heart talking. *cough*)

Oh, and... *hides* You'll see why.

Complete phrases or sentences in italics represent character thoughts. Single words italicized for emphasis. Title inspired by this quote:

There are times to cultivate and create, when you nurture your world and give birth to new ideas and ventures. There are times of flourishing and abundance, when life feels in full bloom, energized and expanding. And there are times of fruition, when things come to an end. They have reached their climax and must be harvested before they begin to fade. And finally of course, there are times that are cold, and cutting and empty, times when the spring of new beginnings seems like a distant dream. Those rhythms in life are natural events. They weave into one another as day follows night, bringing, not messages of hope and fear, but messages of how things are.

Chögyam Trungpa

If Will is... if we're too late, I will gut him, Helen's father or not. We've wasted precious time trying to reason with that old bastard instead of scanning him like we would have done to anyone else. We could have found that bug from the start, and maybe Will wouldn't have been taken. Why did he go alone? Why the hell didn't he tell me what he was doing? Damn, Will. I love you but right now I want to throttle you for being so careless. Please be alive. Please be alive. Please be alive.

"We need to be careful. If they had identified Will, they may be watching out for us. I'll go in first," Helen was saying as Henry veritably vibrated on his seat, nearly jumping up and down with worry. He wasn't listening. He simply made noises of agreement where appropriate. Will had most likely been kidnapped by the abnormal fight club ring, since he and Ashley had been scoping them out, posing as potential customers. Now it turned out that the Cabal might be behind the whole raw deal, which made the situation ten times as deadly for Will.

He has to be alive. He has to. Please, God, or whoever the hell's out there. If you're listening, please, let him be alive.

Helen had just advised them all once more to proceed with extreme caution, but the moment the car stopped, Henry jumped out and ran inside.

"Henry?!" Helen called, but he was already gone. She saw as the unassuming Mr. Foss kneed one of the doormen in the jewels. By the time the second guard reacted, Ashley had a gun to his temple, and Henry stormed into the building, again on his own.

The women secured the guards before following Henry inside.

A cacophony of shouts, cheers and jeers assaulted Henry the moment he entered the warehouse. He sniffed the air, and followed his nose not to the dark, grim cell he had imagined for his beloved Will, but straight to the origin of the noise. There, in the center of the improvised fight ring, stood a brutish hulk of a man, roaring his triumph at the bloodthirsty crowd.

Henry shoved his way to the center of the fight ring. His instinct, his nose told him that was Will, but he would have never recognized him by sight. At least not right away. What have they done? What have they done to you? This is my sweet, beautiful William?

"Finish him, you dumb bastard!" someone hollered.

Will's mind was overwhelmed completely. Fight. Kill. Destroy. It was as if a thick, smothering blanket of wrath had been laid all over it and he couldn't get in touch with his mind.

Henry had just enough time to see Will move in for the killing blow before he emerged onto the ring itself. "Will! No!"

He struggled with the mountain of a man that had been Will, and it was his turn to feel afraid of his lover when Will tossed him in the air like a rag doll.

Will came at him, roaring in a chemical rage. Fight. Kill. Destroy. All he saw was a new enemy. Someone had dared come between him and his kill.

"No. No! No, whoa!" Henry cried out, scrambling back like an overturned crab. "It's me, Henry!" he exclaimed, his voice breaking a little. He doesn't even know who I am, he thought, holding a hand up and begging Will with his eyes. He couldn't even think right now about the fact that Will didn't seem to recognize him. He had to. Come on, baby. It's me. Come on! React, dammit.

Fight...? Will hesitated, and Henry saw a spark of recognition in his eyes. He almost fainted with relief, but that didn't last very long. Will looked around, as if looking for a target, and took a step towards the fallen Danny. Henry jumped to his feet, keeping Will's attention on him.

"Will! Will!"

A roar was Will's reply, as he turned and grabbed Henry by the neck. Gone were those long, graceful fingers that brought Henry so much pleasure. Henry gasped as his throat was encircled by ham sized fists. Destroy... enemy... no... f... friend? Anger suffused Will, but he was no longer sure who to direct it to.

"No, no, no, no. This isn't you!" Henry pleaded earnestly. He grabbed on to Will's arms, which were now as thick as his waist. "This isn't you."

This behemoth was barely recognizable as Will, and it broke Henry's heart to see him like this. "This is not you," he said with great compassion, realizing the poignant role reversal.

Will bared his teeth at the man, but he was quiet. Fight. Kill. Destroy. He knew that face. Kill. Hurt. Images came to him, of Henry smiling, of loving looks. Feel... good... Something deep inside him stirred. He recognized this man. Friend...? H... Hnnnnrrr.... Will could almost say his name. He tried a few times, and it sounded like wheezing.

Looking into Will's unfocused eyes, Henry had little but his own blind faith that Will wouldn't harm him to keep him focused. He dared not speak, or show fear. He knew closeness was good, that his smell should jog some semblance of memory in Will. It has to.

"Henry?" Will was holding Henry's face in his hands, except they didn't look like his hands. Where... am I? Henry. He looked into the other man's eyes, and he saw love, he saw home. He was confused and disoriented, as if he could not access his own thought process.

Henry nodded as far as his limited range of movement allowed, his face trapped in Will's big paws.

"Henry!" the scared Will repeated, holding on to the one thing, the one person he recognized. He ground out the words with some effort. "Help! Help me," he repeated, struggling to hang on to this sliver of himself that Henry had been able to bring forth.

Had they not been in public, Henry would have surely wept. He understood. He truly understood now how it was possible for Will to love him, to want to be with him even when he became a monster. It was easy, he realized, because right now his heart was aching with such love for Will that he could barely stand, even though this looked and acted nothing like the Will he knew. Regardless of the fact that Will had just mopped the floor with him in his blind rage, he felt no differently. And even if this monstrous procedure could not be reversed, and although his heart would break a thousand times every time he looked at this creature who had once been his beautiful lover, he knew with an unshakable certainty that his feelings for Will would never be gone.

Then you do love me, and maybe you don't even know it. Henry held Will's gaze even though it took all his willpower to do so.

"Help me," Will kept repeating, his voice growing increasingly desperate and sad; once again showing traces of his humanity.

"You're gonna be okay," Henry said, willing it to be true. Everything was a blur after that.

Henry could barely keep down the food that Bigfoot had nearly force-fed him. He had not eaten since Will's disappearance, and now he was too worried about the outcome of the procedures Will was undergoing to even think about nourishment. It had been years since Henry had chewed on his fingernails, not since he was a teenager. He had worked hard to get rid of that nervous compulsion, but Helen's refusal to allow him to attend Will's procedure and subsequent treatments had reduced him to this. He had nearly bitten off half of them to the quick.

When Helen emerged from the infirmary, she was immediately assaulted by Hurricane Henry.

"How is he?" Henry asked eagerly, his energy crackling like a building electrical storm.

"As well as can be expected. The treatment has been a success. He's almost fully devolved, and should be purged of his abnormality in another day or two," Helen explained patiently.

"Can I see him?" the man demanded.

"Henry, I've told you. He is not ready for visitors at this time."

"Magnus," Henry insisted. "It's me."

"Henry," Helen said firmly, but with a note of pleading.

"I love that man," Henry ground out. "He needs me," he added haltingly.

"I know," Helen said softly. "But Will needs some time. He's been through quite an ordeal."

Henry did not let her finish. "I think," he interrupted, "that if anyone can understand what he's going through, that's me."

Helen gave Henry a measuring look. She took a calming breath. "If he gives any sign of distress, you leave immediately," she ordered.

"Yes. Of course," Henry said gratefully.

"I am trusting you to keep your word, Henry."

"You know I would never do anything to hurt Will. But take it from me, the last thing Will needs right now is to be alone, even if he thinks so."

With one last warning glance, Helen stepped aside and watched Henry all but run into the infirmary. She hoped for both their sakes that Will and Henry were not making a huge mistake. A part of her that had nothing to do with malice wanted to keep them separate. The potential for disaster was just too great, and she had grown to care about both of them like they were her own children. In fact, she had entertained other than maternal feelings for one or both of them at different times, although she chalked that up to loneliness. But the crux of the problem was that she needed them both. Henry and Will contributed vitally to the Sanctuary, not only as assets, but as friends and the nearest thing to family she could hope to have. She did not want to end up picking up the pieces if that relationship did not work out.

So be it. It was out of her hands now.

Henry approached Will's bed, a bundle of nervous energy. "Will?"

Will had been lost in thought, and failed to hear or see Henry approach. He started when he heard his name spoken.

"Oh. Henry," he said uncertainly, looking around to see if Magnus was around. "Did... did you sneak in?"

Henry grinned. "Me? Sneak in? I'm hurt that you would even think that," he said facetiously.

Will smiled weakly and turned his face away. "I thought... no visitors."

"Baby, it's me. Henry. Don't you want me here?" Henry asked patiently. "I can go. No problem. But I think the last thing you should be right now is alone." He had a pretty good idea why Will was acting this way. Although he was mostly recognizable as his old self now, Will still showed certain deformities of his features that marked him as other. A petty man might have thought that karma was a bitch, but Henry merely acknowledged that he knew exactly how Will was feeling.

"It's not... I mean... I just," Will started, but didn't finish. He felt like a huge hypocrite, considering how many times he had hounded Henry about his changes being a normal part of who he was. All his talk about acceptance and yet, now that Henry was here, all that he could think was that he didn't want his lover to see him like this.

"You don't want me to see you like this," Henry said, echoing Will's exact thought.

Will didn't answer. How could he want anyone to see him? Not only was he still partially deformed, but the outer layer of his skin had started drying up and peeling off like he was molting. It had been overtaxed and overstretched in an accelerated manner from the abnormal muscle growth, and shrinking back to his normal size had only further degraded it. There wouldn't be any lasting effects aside from a temporary sensitivity. He had actually seen something similar happen to patients with severe allergic reactions once the swelling subsided. Even though he was aware that once it all finally peeled off he would look like himself again, he couldn't help but think of a snake shedding its old skin whenever he looked at himself.

"And you feel guilty for all the flack you've given me when I get this way," Henry observed, gesturing at Will's current withdrawn body language. "It's okay, Will. Hey. Look at me, please?"

"I'm hideous. Don't, please," Will said, but he sounded resigned.

Henry took Will's hands, bony protrusions from his accelerated growth that had not yet retracted and all, brought them up to his lips and kissed them. "You're not hideous, my friend. Trust me on that."

"I look like a dead lizard," Will mumbled sullenly.

"This?" Henry asked, making a 'don't be ridiculous' face. "You just look like you've had really bad sunburn. That'll go away."

Will heaved a long-suffering sigh. "You know, I never thought of myself as vain before."

Henry reached over and ruffled Will's hair. "It's okay. Could be much worse. In fact, I think this is good. I mean, it was crap. The situation was. But there's some good that came out of it."

"Oh, yeah? What's that?" Will said a little belligerently.

With a wry smile, Henry ignored the tone.

"Us, Will. I think for the first time we can understand one another better. You know? Don't you have a little better idea now of what it's like to be me? Because I'm thinking I get you now, too. When I saw you in that ring... well, it was a shock for sure. But it made no difference where it counts."

Will gave Henry a guarded look. He had to admit he now had first hand understanding of some the complicated psychology that accompanied the onset of abnormality. He had just had a pretty intense crash course. He could hardly make broad, general assumptions, but at least he knew what it had felt like to him. He gazed off to the side before he spoke.

"The change, the loss of control... all that rage. Is that how you feel when you change?" Will said out loud for the first time. He had been obsessing a little since his rescue.

"Is it really me, the rage, the savagery?" Henry added. "I ask myself that all the time. Am I gonna change, lose control?" Henry smiled gently at the man. "Duh. You know the answer to that."

"How do you deal?" Will asked, his eyes searching Henry's face.

Henry leaned in and kissed the pronounced ridges of Will's overgrown brow, then his cheeks and finally his lips. Will passively let him.

"That's easy, when I'm not freaking out about it. I know I have some pretty wonderful people in my life who care about me," Henry said calmly. He felt a smirk coming and couldn't help adding, "and who won't let me go over to the dark side."

Will leaned his head towards Henry, who sat next to him on the bed and pulled him into an easy hug. He took the first deep breath he could remember taking in days, now that Henry was there again.

How can you want to be near me when I look like this? How can you still call me a friend after what I almost did to you? I could have killed you. I probably would have killed you if I hadn't spent so much of that unrelenting rage beating down three other... creatures.

Will was beginning to see. This was surely the same kind of inner dialogue Henry entertained a lot of the time. And yet, even when he was down, he was ready with a smile for Will. Henry valiantly made light of his situation a lot more often than Will thought he could if their situations were reversed.

"Remind me never to call you mopey again," Will said, his forehead resting in the crook of Henry's neck. His voice was unsteady. "You are so brave, Henry. So brave. God, I had no right to ask you not to have that surgery. I'm such a hypocrite."

"You're only human, Will," Henry answered. "We all are, abnormal or not. And that's okay." He wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, but he knew this to be true. "And actually, yes, you did have a right, because I gave you that right. Not to worry, though. The final decision was mine."

"What I don't understand is why. You barely knew me then," Will mused, glad to be talking about something other than his artificial mutation.

"Oh, I knew you, Will Zimmerman," Henry said, his voice softening with emotion. "Sometimes I think I know you better than you know yourself."

Will chafed a little at that. "You know, that's not the most polite thing to say to a trained psychologist."

"Doesn't matter if it's true." Henry pushed Will to arm's length so he could look him in the eye. "Look, this has all been a revelation. You got a taste of what it's like to be me, while I got to be on the receiving end of it. And I was scared you wouldn't recognize me, but not because I might be hurt, but because I knew you'd hate yourself for it later. You see? I get it now, that feeling... knowing you wouldn't hurt me."

"You don't know that," Will said softly. The moment the words left his mouth, he realized that was Henry's line. He drew away from the hug.

"I know, because I lived it with you in that fight ring," Henry insisted. "And you pulled through. You recognized me. Your mind came back."

"You did that. You came for me, and you brought me back," Will said wistfully.

Henry felt a sweet warmth in his chest at the words. "You know, when I looked at you, all hulked up, raging and roaring at the world, I never for a moment stopped loving you."

Will's eyes widened, and his mouth fell open. "Wh-?"

"Yeah, you heard right," Henry pressed on, losing a little of his nerve but not enough to stop. "And it got me thinking. When I saw you I was barely able to recognize you, not by sight. But somehow I knew it was you, and I knew you were in there, hurting under all that rage. I didn't hesitate, I wasn't afraid. Not until you slammed me to the ground, anyway."

Will winced. Henry spoke on.

Anyway, when you're faced with something like that, and you can still recognize the person within, and your feelings for them are untouched," he said, his heart beating a mile a minute. "That's gotta be love," he finished, and it almost didn't sound like a question.

"Stop," Will whispered, drawing in on himself. A boyish expression of disbelief had taken residence on his face.

Henry interrupted him. "I love you, Will. And I don't need you to tell me, because I know you love me too. Maybe you're not in love with me but, in the end, it doesn't really matter. I had to tell you, because you've nearly died almost weekly since you came to work with us here, and I would never forgive myself if something happened to you and you never heard it from my lips."

"Henry." Will shook his head. "Stop," Will repeated, visibly distressed.

"Will," Henry insisted softly.

"Stop it!" Will cried out, hugging himself. "You can't... You have no right... to tell me these things. No," he said in a nasal whine.

Henry blanched, and all the color left his face as he got to his feet. "The hell?" he mumbled. "What do you mean I have no right? Haven't we been...?"

"We've been fucking," Will interrupted, and immediately regretted saying it. His whole face scrunched up tight when he heard the harshness of his own words. He then amended, "No. I know. I know it's been more than that. But I'm not ready for this."

Henry stood there, looking like he'd just been slapped in the face. He wanted to say something hurtful, but he couldn't think of anything scathing enough to equal the pain in his chest.

Will's expression changed to that of a frightened child. "Henry, I didn't mean that," he said softly.

"Fuck you," Henry whispered back. He couldn't look Will in the face. His voice returned to its usual volume. "You know what? You need your rest, and I need to get out of here. I'm sorry I bothered you," he said coldly, but it was obvious he was hurt.

"Henry, I'm serious. Don't leave like this," Will said, louder. "It's the drugs, man. I didn't mean..."

Henry could barely contain his temper. "It's hot and cold, and hot and cold, and hot then fucking cold with you. Why are you doing this?"

Will made a frustrated noise. He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands. "I don't know. Trust issues, abandonment issues, being an asshole issues? I... I'm... uh... I'm not trying to excuse myself here, I'm just explaining what I know to be true."

"Yeah, well... I don't deserve this," Henry said simply yet firmly, shaking his head at Will with a sad little scowl on his face. He hated to see Will upset, and he could hear in his slightly slurred speech that he wasn't lying about the drugs. Still, regardless of his promise to Helen, he deserved better.

Will blew his breath out through his nose and started to cry quietly. "I know. I'm sorry." He was mildly sedated, which put his inhibitions at an all time low. He could barely censor his own thoughts, let alone bottle up his feelings like he usually did. "I know you don't."

"Don't cry," Henry said a bit tightly. He wanted to slap Will. He wanted to comfort Will. He wanted to throttle the man, then kiss him until he stopped saying stupid shit like that, Henry thought to himself. I'm a fucking idiot. That's what I get for going after closeted pretty boys. Internalized homophobia much? Damn! "I'm... just, get better. Get better."

Will got the feeling that a thick brick wall had just gone up between them. His blood froze as he watched Henry walk away from him, angry and defeated.

"H-Henry," he mumbled, perhaps too soft for him to hear. His pulse sped up. Henry was really leaving. He'd really done it this time. His voice strangled in his throat, but he made himself cry out.

"Henry!" Please, don't go away mad. Please.

It came out pleading, shrill. Henry didn't even slow down. Quite the contrary, it was as if he couldn't wait to get out of there. The door slamming shut felt like a stab wound to the chest, and Will felt the first throb of a migraine-level headache spark up behind his eyes. Way to be an ungrateful bastard, William. He wanted to follow Henry, but he'd have to rip out his drip, and Helen would kill him. What if he interrupted the treatment and he reverted back into that thing? He couldn't risk it. He just couldn't.

He'll come back. He just needs to cool down, then I can apologize a million times until he forgives me. He has to forgive me. How could I be such an ass? How, Will thought, did he always manage to alienate anyone who got too close? Why did he always drive away the people who brought even a semblance of happiness into his life? He cursed the drugs, and he cursed his luck, and he cursed his big mouth, and he very nearly cursed Henry for making him feel so loved and out of control and... happy. How dare he make Will happy? He groaned at himself and his disjointed thoughts. Will looked around over the empty room, wallowing in what he reasoned to be some well deserved self-loathing.

In the meantime, Henry's stomach was churning. He had stopped just outside, his heart beating like a too tight drum. He leaned back against the closed door, breathing hard. Walking out on Will when he called out to him like that was among the hardest things he'd ever done. Still, he was sure if he heard Will call out to him one more time he would turn right around and go back in. We've been fucking. The nerve... Why did I have to fall in love with this prick? Aw, come off it, Henry. He's not a prick. He just doesn't know what he wants. Which is probably worse.

He didn't hear anything else through the door, and the feeling he'd been holding back with anger, the one like his heart was physically breaking, broadsided him into breathlessness. He put both hands over his face, because grown men don't cry, and struggled to fill his lungs.

Henry heard a soft, disapproving grunt. Bigfoot, Henry thought. Strong, large hands guided him into one of the vacant rooms across the hall. Henry never removed his hands from his face, trusting his friend completely. He almost fell apart, but he waited until they stopped moving and he heard the door close behind them before he did. God forbid Will might overhear. Still covering his eyes, Henry melted into Bigfoot's powerful embrace and let go of his grief. Tears flowed freely, but only the sound of his labored breathing disturbed the silence.

TBC