Author's Note: I get the feeling that this chapter will inspire mixed feelings. I don't know; it was how it came to me. Magnus and Druitt alike are very complicated people, put it down to their extended lives or whatever and so I think their reactions to, well, anything are going to be complex. So, I hope you like the final chapter of this. I've got another series in the works and with the end of my exams in sight, I will have much more time to write. I'm so looking forward to it! Please review!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

John versus Jack

Chapter 4 –

Magnus became very still as they neared the cell that contained Druitt. From an outsider's point of view, she looked calm, her hands folded in her lap and her shoulders relaxed. But Will knew better. Her jaw was clenched, whether from the pain or the stress he didn't know and the silent, still behaviour always gave her away. He badly wanted to turn the wheelchair around and put her back to bed in the infirmary. For God's sake, she hadn't even been checked for a concussion yet. But, the realisation Will had come to in the elevator was that Magnus needed to see Druitt. She needed to make the situation real. Any other reasons she might have, he had no idea.

He stopped a few feet from the window into Druitt's cell. From where he was, he could see Druitt sitting in the corner, his head leant back against the wall. He had his eyes closed. His hands were still covered in Magnus' blood. Will tensed, anger and guilt battling for precedence. He should've been there to stop him sooner.

"Will," Magnus' voice was soft but inside the cell, Druitt's eyes flew open. "Go and have a shower and get changed."

"I'm not leaving you alone with him." Will told her.

"There's an inch of glass between us." Magnus pointed out. "I'll be fine."

Will hesitated. He really didn't want to go.

"Please, Will."

Will watched as her eyes flicked over his shirt. It was stained with blood, her blood. Obviously not the most comforting thing to see. Another reminder of her brush with death. He sighed. "I'll be back as soon as I'm done."

Magnus nodded her thanks before turning back to John. He was now standing, still in the far corner as though he was scared he'd hurt her again if he got too close to her despite the glass between them. His face was gaunt, the guilt prominent in his features. In spite of himself, he took a step forward. "Helen, I... I'm so sorry. I'm so very sorry." His voice was hoarse, his hands moving to articulate his feelings.

Magnus watched him silently for a moment. Then she began to push herself up as carefully as possible. She could hear John protesting but she ignored him. It took a long time but finally, she was on her feet, only slightly unsteady. She took a wary step forward and rested her on the glass. "I know," she whispered.

What she felt for John was a confused, conflicted mess of emotion. He had been her first love, her true love and for that, she would always love him. But the things he had done... they were reprehensible. In his extended lifetime, he'd killed hundreds of people. There were victims she knew of and she was sure there were many she didn't know about. But since their discovery of the creature inhabiting John, it had become far more difficult to hate him for all of that. He'd been battling this thing for control for over a century and sometimes he won. But sometimes he didn't. Today was a good example. She'd seen the conflict in his eyes as John slowly lost to Jack and it had broken her heart. He had been a good person, a strong, noble man and this thing had turned him into a monster. And now there was a faint flicker of fear inside her as well. He had stabbed her, he had tried to kill her and if not for Will, she'd probably be dead. But she still found herself unable to hate him. Her heart ached.

"Helen," John took another step towards the glass. "I will never forgive myself for what I did to you. I will spend the rest of my life attempting to make it up to you."

Helen shook her head. "It wasn't you. It was that creature; it was Jack."

"But I allowed him to take control..." John protested.

"I will find a way to rid you of it. I will, I promise."

John's smile was so sad. He was now right in front of her and lifted his hand to press it against the glass. Had it not been for the glass, their hands would've been touching. Helen looked at their hands, the sadness and the grief welling up. Sometimes, how much she wished for the old days, back at Oxford, felt overwhelming. She missed her John. She rested her head against the glass, the tiredness and the pain seeping through her again. She wouldn't give up. She would find a way to free John. She had to.

In her peripheral vision, she saw John lean forward too. Like their hands, if the glass was not there, they would be leaning against one another. The irony was not lost on her. There was always something keeping them apart, whether it physical like the glass, or metaphorical. She found herself hoping that one day, maybe that barrier would break down.

Will emerged from the elevator, clean and in fresh clothes. His shirt had gone straight in the bin and his jeans had followed after he'd found blood smeared on them too. He felt a little better but his need to make sure Magnus was okay had prevented him from enjoying the shower as much as he normally would have. He rounded the corner to cell and stopped abruptly.

Magnus was standing, her hand and head leaning against the glass. Druitt's posture was identical on the other side. Both had their eyes closed. It was quiet but the atmosphere was calm, safe, cathartic.

Will took a step back, out of sight. He felt like he was prying, interrupting a fragile, perfect moment. He didn't understand. Something major must've happened while he'd been gone but he wouldn't interrupt. Seeing them like that was strange and sad but gave him a warm feeling at the same time.

So he stayed where he was, waiting for when Magnus needed him.