A/N: This story ended much differently than I ever intended, and to be completely honest with you it's been sitting like this for a very long time now. I had changes I wanted to make, things I wanted to do, but none of those things ever got done. I feel like I copped out on this. But I also feel that I may as well post it... I don't think it's going anywhere else any time soon. Sorry for the wait, I guess?

Neither Nikola nor Helen knows the full extent to which she has placed her trust in him until, one night, Helen's body quakes violently against his. With her arms cast haphazardly around his shoulders and her face buried in the crook of his neck, she's more helpless than he's ever seen her. He wraps her up, pulls her in, doesn't let her go until the jerking sobs become little more than a quiet tremble punctuated by gasps and sniffles. This time, he knows no reason for the hysterical display - and like before, she offers no explanations.

She will not see him for days, weeks thereafter, and although he presses (as gently as he is able), she is not interested in speaking to him. The facade slips; he grows agitated. Her own mood mounts.

When he finally manages to corner her again, she is in no mood to talk.

Sex with Helen is usually a give and take; she shifts smoothly between flipsides of the same coin, firm assertion of dominance to an easy cooperation so stately in nature she deserves to be worshipped. She does not meet extremes. But this time, when she is hurt, she seeks demonizing self-torment and his skin breaks and mends beneath her nails and teeth. She half-wills him to return the damage. Somehow, he knows that nothing will be the same if he does. She fights harder, but all he will do is pin her by her wrists in an attempt to subdue her as she writhes against him. His self-control is ingratiating.

"Nikola," she growls, contorting her arms as she tries to escape.

"You're being much too difficult," he utters back in a breathless undertone, crushing her lips with his; she bloodies him with her teeth.

She doesn't know how to ask him to hurt her. Begging is so far beneath her, and she's been demanding since the clatter of a button on the floor signified her desperation to get to him. She knows nothing better than to do what she's doing, and what she's doing clearly isn't enough. He's distracted, momentarily, by the taste of his own bitter blood in his mouth; she wrenches her arm free, and he hisses in pain as her nails dig into his back again.

Once she's worn herself down to bone, when she's done thrashing beneath him, he isn't sure whether it's more considerate to leave or stay. She won't meet his eyes, but she's usually quite forward in dismissing him, so he remains behind, conscientious of her avoidance.

"I'm sorry," she mumbles at length, too quiet for Helen, and he's not so sure she should be apologizing either, but he doesn't say anything. "You should go."

"Should I?"

She does not answer.

She has never kissed him gently before, but two evenings later she is already in his arms again, and it can only be that she is trying to apologize. One hand on his shoulder, the other cupping his face, there's something chaste and yet decidedly notabout the way her mouth finds his. Nikola's only ever indecisive in the case of Helen Magnus; it's been that way since Oxford, and he imagines it will always be this way. Nevertheless, "What's gotten into you, Helen?" when she pulls away, is as coy as ever.

There's a flash of annoyance as habitual as his juvenility, but she relents in an instant, closing her eyes briefly with a sigh and a quick shake of her head. His hands are on her hips, though he's not making any moves, for once, and it only seems appropriate to drop her hands to his chest, quirking half a smile up at him.

"Sometimes, you're - ah." He quirks his own boyish smile, waiting. She pins him with a look that's only half-scolding, pursing her lips for just a moment before finally amending and finishing with a simple, quiet "Thank you."

"Think nothing of it," he replies. A shuffling blend of content and disorientation settles between them.