"Magnus, I'm right here." His voice was surprisingly calm when he grabbed onto her shoulders to stop her thrashing.

She sat straight up, ignoring her nudity and pressed finger to his face to make absolute certain he was still alive. Once she had effectively taken his pulse she pulled the sheets up over her breasts and clung to them like a lifeline. "I'm sorry, Will. I must have startled you."

"You did." He didn't dare lie to her, but he was sensing something was off. "I was in the dream wasn't I?"

Magnus leaned back against the headboard and luckily a pillow was propped behind her. She really didn't want to answer the question, but she could see no way around it. He had been very direct. She took a deep breath in and in winced suddenly in pain. Lifting her arm and gingerly pulling away the blankets she saw the blood for the first time. "Dear lord, what is this?"

Will fingered around it noticing the stitches sliced and deepening of the cut. "You were struggling a lot in your sleep."

"You can't break stitches like that, Will. There were sliced. Like—" She didn't want to continue, then she would be telling him exactly what had happened when she really didn't want to. He didn't even give her the chance; he held her gaze and silently pushed her to continue. "Like my dream."

"Like your dream?"

"Yeah, John cut it, with his knife before—before he killed you."

"Did he say anything?"

Odd question she thought, "Nothing unusual. Why?"

"I'm trying to determine if it was actually a dream."

"You don't think—"

"I won't rule out the possibility."

Talk about role reversal. She was usually the one not ruling out any possibilities and here was Will, thinking of all possibilities and outcomes for her. "Could you get me my robe, please? I'll need you to stitch these up again, butterfly I think should be fine this time."

After taking care of her injury for the second time, he escorted her back to her rooms. Magnus leaned heavily on his arm the entire way. "Thank you, Will." She placed a hand on his chest before leaving him in the hallway.

Will decided to give her two days to see if she would come to him to talk. Of course, he should have known better and she didn't. He was once again knocking on her door when he knew she would be available. This time he sat on the couch and she immediately moved next to him. "How many times have the dreams happened?"

"Enough."

"How many times has it not been a memory?"

She stopped at that, he was a quick one wasn't he. "Twice," Her eyes were locked on his and she was not going to stand down.

"And I died in both of them?" Her head softly nodded in response. "Why can't you have children?" Her body tensed; every muscle on edge as she scooted closer off the couch cushion.

"John…just before James confronted him about the Ripper killings there was an incident that left me unable to carry an embryo."

"What did John do to you?"

"It wasn't John; he didn't mean to do anything."

"Magnus," Will paused to be sure he had her attention. "Just tell me what he did."

"He used a knife. The same one he used to kill Molly four weeks later. He—he did some awful things to me Will, I'd really rather not discuss it."

"Alright."

"The night John proposed was one of the best nights in my life." She looked down at her hands which were twisting ominously, "It's odd that I have the best and the worst nights with the same person." She heard the door creak open, but she didn't turn to see who it was, figuring her old friend was bringing her afternoon tea like he always did. But she did stop talking. Will pressed his fingers over her hand, comforting yet still distant from the situation. It was necessary for him.

"You love him," Will continued for her. She nodded, tears brimming in her eyes. Yes, yes she did love him; she loved him more than she could possibly comprehend. But that didn't matter. She looked up at Will then, tears spilling over her cheeks and her chest throbbing with the lack of air from her trying to hold the violent sobs in.

"Helen?" She started at his voice. The voice she had been trying to ignore, avoid and completely forget for the past few weeks and the one she couldn't seem to let go of. She turned suddenly, standing and face the man of her nightmares. "What happened?" John didn't move at him, his eyes racking over her form that was concealed in a tight green dress.

Her face scrunched with her tears and emotions that swirled like death inside of her, "John."