"Magnus," Will said, looking directly at her before following the track of her eyes to where she was staring.
The woman just shook her head and repeated herself, "John." She stepped around the couch to face him down, her heels giving her the perfect height. "What are you doing here?"
"You asked me to come." He smiled was gorgeous and if her blood wasn't racing through her veins in fear her knees would have been weak. It was then that she noticed what he was wearing, a dress suit, trousers and a jacket with flaps behind him. No leather. His hair was short and the scar still stark on his cheek but this was not the John of her present.
"You're not real." She stopped herself then, turning to face Will who was patiently waiting. She completely blotted John out of her view, but she knew he was still there. At least he was in her mind. She could sense him, smell him, he was very close, overwhelming the room. She was trying her damnedest to completely obliterate him from her mind that she didn't feel him coming closer until he slid a hand around her face and cupped her mouth.
Magnus gasped and struggled but his other arm held a knife to her throat and he kissed a trail down her neck. She couldn't move. If she moved to the right the knife would cut her, and if she moved to the left John's lips would have more contact with her skin. Her hands clenched tightly and she closed her eyes, her throat issuing a soft cry and plea for him to stop but he very much ignored her.
Her eyes were beginning Will to do something, anything, but he just stood there staring at the scene unfolding before his eyes. It took her a loud whimpering cry to snap him out of it. He started talking to John, his eyes flicking between the two of them and silently trying to speak with Magnus. "John, is this really what you want? Her to die?"
The man ignored him, instead releasing her mouth and slowly opening her dress, button by button exposing her to her young protégé. "My Helen, beautiful as always," he bit hard into her shoulder covering her mouth once again to muffle her cry. It was then that he felt the tears on her cheeks, "Don't cry, my love. This is what you wanted, this is always what you've wanted."
Her eyes met Will's and she tried to focus on anything but was happened to her. She was petrified with fear, unable to move thinking that once again, for real this time, she would have to watch him die. She had seen him die so many times, but with John wielding the knife, there was no way the young man would survive.
She wanted to bounce, to release the energy that was building in her. She wanted to turn around and throttle John then and there. She cried out once again, not realizing that John's hand had moved down the front of her body.
"Will," she sobbed out, and her head moved as slight as possible side to side, "I'm so sorry."
"Magnus…"
"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Her head slid quickly forward and he saw the flash of steel before she rammed it back into John's leg. The man stumbled backwards, his arms relaxing enough that she was able to push away from him. She turned to face him and pulled the weapon from its holster and shot three times before falling to the floor in heart wrenching cries, the gun still held loosely in her fingers.
Will was behind her then, his hands holding her shoulders and letting the tears fall until she had no more. "Magnus," his voice was soft and gentile. When she looked up finally she saw no body. No John. There were three holes in her wall, but no dead body. She turned to the man behind her accusingly, but he had no explanation for her. "There was nothing there to begin with, I swear to you."
She continued to sit on her knees staring at him. It took her many long moments to finally make a decision. "Here," she shoved the weapon at him until he took it. Standing, Magnus unhooked a second weapon from her thigh and a knife from her other wrist that had been hidden by the long sleeves she wore. Further she moved around the room collecting and handing him all guns, knives, and other sorts of objects that she kept nearby. Without saying a word she moved to her bedroom and performed the same ritual. It certainly wasn't a cleansing by any means, since she would most likely feel less safe without the items nearby, but she could not afford another episode like the one that had just occurred.