Timeline: Any time in the first season, but probably before "The Five".
Wish-Fulfillment Dreams
Helen woke with a gasp, tears in her eyes.
"What is it, Helen?" a sleepy voice asked.
She reached out until she found John's chest, feeling his heartbeat against her palm. It soothed her, allowing her fear-stilled heart to beat again. She drew a deep breath, unaware she had been holding it until that moment.
"Sorry to wake you, John."
"You didn't. I was just lying here thinking. Now, what's wrong?"
"I had that dream again."
His laugh reached her ears in the darkness, bringing a smile to her face. In short order, she found herself in his arms, cradled against his chest as he kissed away her tears.
"How many times do I have to reassure you that I'm not Jack the Ripper?" he chuckled, nuzzling her throat.
"It's absurd, I know, along with everything else about that ridiculous dream. It just seems so compellingly real while I'm having it."
"Yes, because it makes such perfect sense that, in a hundred years time, you will be the leader of a worldwide network of Sanctuaries for abnormals, so interconnected that you may communicate across oceans in the space of a heartbeat, even sending a moving image of yourself through the air."
"The whole thing is absurd, I know. James says the nightmares reflect some secret fear I have that I cannot confess, even to myself."
"James is a clever man, but how can you have a fear that you don't know you have?"
"I don't know, but in my dreams, the young doctor calls it 'subconscious'."
"Beneath the level of awareness?" he asked. "How patently absurd." Holding her closer, he asked, "And, in these dreams, do you care for this 'young doctor' more than you do for me?"
"Well, I'm quite fond of him, John, but in a different sort of way. It's more like having a grown son to share my work with."
His hand drifted to her swollen stomach. "Perhaps it is some sort of premonition? A son…"
"Not a natural one. In the dreams, our child is always a daughter. Would you mind that?"
"Not if she's like you."
"She isn't. At least, not in the dreams. Shockingly improper creature." She smiled, shaking her head.
"More so than her mother?"
"She makes me seem downright prim."
"Now there is a distressing thought. No wonder you call them nightmares."
She shook her head. "So much about them is strange, or unfamiliar, or plain frightening. I could hardly describe it all to you if I tried."
He kissed the top of her head. "And is any of it more distressing than the idea that your own husband is your mortal enemy?"
"What could be more distressing than that?" she countered.
He chuckled again. "Nothing I can think of. I certainly would never wish you for an enemy."
She smiled and stretched, rubbing the small of her back.
"Hurting you?" he asked, sliding one hand down to rub the sore spot.
"Oh, not anymore."
"I spoke with your father. Unfortunately, there's not much we can give you for the discomfort that doesn't risk harm to the baby."
"I know. That's why I haven't been complaining about it."
"Well, Nigel is forever offering to make you up a poultice, and I don't see how that could do either of you any harm."
"Well, it certainly sounds better than what Nicola recommends."
"Let me guess: the application of an electrical current?"
She giggled into his chest, nodding.
"Typical," John laughed. "I hope you told him no?"
"I told him I'd take his hand off if he tried it."
"Good."
"Mmm, what time is it?"
"It feels like early morning. Here, shield your eyes."
She did so as he lit a candle, narrowing her lids and staring at the grandfather clock that had been a present from her father upon their marriage.
"If we get up now, we'll be able to see the sun coming up," he noted.
She was tired, but more than willing to share such a glorious sight with her beloved, so she nodded eagerly, wiggling free of his tender hold and swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. She shivered as her bare feet touched the wood floor.
"Stay there," he directed, jumping out of bed and going to retrieve her slippers. Kneeling before her, he slipped them onto her feet, smiling up at her. "The swelling's down," he noted, brushing his fingers against her ankle.
"Yes, the dietary changes Father recommended really seem to have helped."
"Yes, well, your father is almost as brilliant as his daughter."
She waved a dismissive hand. "Oh, stop it, John. You make me feel like a schoolgirl again."
"A husband's privilege, I should think," he answered with a wicked grin.
"If you value 'a husband's privilege'," she warned with mock severity.
He chuckled again, helping her to her feet. "Shall we go down to the garden, or did you want to stay in the sitting room where it's warm?"
It was chilly, but the view of the sunrise from the garden was unparalleled. "Let's go outside."
"Very well," he agreed placidly, wrapping her in a heavy robe before offering his arm.
Smiling, she took it, leaning on him more for the sake of closeness than support. He smiled down at her, looking as ridiculously happy as he had on their wedding day. She could hardly fault him; she still frequently felt giddy with love herself.
He stopped long enough to retrieve two heavy blankets before they left the house, spreading one on the stone bench before he would let her sit. When she was comfortable, he sat down next to her, drawing her close and wrapping the second blanket around both of them.
Their breath was visible in the chill pre-dawn air, but she felt remarkably warm sitting bundled up with Montague John Druitt of the Five.
"Could things be any better?" she wondered aloud.
"They will be when our child joins us. Otherwise, no. I can't think of one other thing we're lacking."
"Nor I," she agreed, smiling up at him.
They sat in silence for some time, until a smudge of purple appeared on the horizon.
"Many patients today?" he asked as they watched it spread.
"Only one. She moves things with her mind. That alone wouldn't be alarming, but she can't always control the ability."
"I can see where that might cause problems. What do you plan on doing?"
"I'm recommending a course of meditation and self-examination until she can learn to control herself."
"Will it work?"
"In my experience and my father's, the more self-aware an individual becomes, the better chance they have of controlling their gifts. Discipline is important as well, naturally, but it can't come without an understanding of what triggers the ability in the first place."
"That makes sense, but will she be able to remain unnoticed until she learns?"
"It seems unlikely," she answered with a little shake of the head. "I've arranged for her to receive sanctuary from a group of sequestered nuns Father is acquainted with until she's ready to return to normal society."
"My wife thinks of everything, doesn't she?" he asked, smiling proudly.
"Well, she certainly attempts to, John." She shrugged. "The geographic isolation and unconditional acceptance by the Sisters will do her good, I think. She can focus on her abilities instead of on what others might think if they knew. It will make all of this so much easier for her."
"My wife is as compassionate as she is intelligent," he murmured, absently rearranged her hair.
She submitted to his fussing for some minutes, before murmuring, "The sunrise, John."
"It can't be as radiant as you," he answered, tucking another lock behind her ear rather than watching the sun.
"John, it's beautiful. Look."
His hand found hers as they watched the sun put in its appearance, bringing with it the promise of a new day. The colors were brilliant, as infinite as the variations on human life. And it brought with it warmth, as love itself did.
"Oh, John," she breathed, shaking her head, unable to tear her eyes from the sight.
His hand tightened around hers. "Helen…"
She let out a soft laugh, her heart feeling as if it might burst. After a night of dreadful dreams of a time and place not her own, of people and technologies she could not understand, of fears and doubts and uncertainties and conflicts…
Yes, the sunrise was precisely what she needed to dispel all of that.
"I live in a world where I know my role," she told him quietly when the array of colors had faded to blue sky and yellow sun alone.
He glanced curiously down at her. "Is that so?"
"Mmm, it is my place to help my patients and raise our children to follow in our steps, taking up our work themselves when the time comes. That's all. Nothing less and nothing more."
"What more could there be than simply helping people?"
"I don't know," she confessed, troubled.
"Hmm, well, then it's probably not important," he answered, kissing her cheek. "And I must run or I'll be late for my appointment at the university. However, you still have several hours yet before your patient arrives. Why don't you get a little more rest? I suspect you need it."
"Yes," she admitted, nodding. "I'm afraid pregnancy is taking more out of me than I had expected it to."
"I can't imagine why. You're merely growing a complete other human-being within your own body." Smiling, he helped her to her feet and walked her back up to their room. "Ah, good. The maid hasn't made the bed yet. I'll leave instructions that you not be disturbed for a few hours."
"Thank you, John," she yawned, climbing back into the still-warm bed. "Mmm, that feels nice…"
"Helen Druitt!" John chuckled. "I had no idea when I married you that you were such a sensualist."
"I'm sure you didn't." She smiled slyly up at him. "But, as you haven't complained once since, I can't believe it troubles you greatly. In fact, John, I rather suspect you like it."
"You could have something there," he agreed, bending to kiss her.
Sighing softly, she looped one hand around the back of his neck to hold his face close to hers even after he broke off the tender kiss.
"I love you, John," she whispered, smiling as her lips brushed against his with every word. "Don't ever change."
"I won't if you don't," he promised, giving her a last kiss. Reluctantly, "I really should be going."
"Yes," she admitted, shrugging. "I'll be waiting here when you get home."
"You'll be waiting for me here?" He raised an eyebrow. "In bed?"
"John!" she laughed, swatting his shoulder.
He smiled. "I'll see you later, Helen. Now get some rest. You need it in your state."
She pushed herself up on one arm, watching him as he got dressed and then left. Sighing happily, she fell back against her pillow. Her smile widening, she grabbed his pillow, holding it to her nose and inhaling deeply, one hand resting on her stomach as she drank in the scent of her beloved.
"Life is good," she informed the room at large before settling down again and closing her eyes.
She lay there for some time, merely luxuriating in all the things that made being Mrs. Helen Druitt such a wonderful experience. A loving husband, a thriving practice, some of the very best friends a woman could have, a child on the way…
Eventually, not even reflecting on what a beautiful life it was could keep her awake any longer. Smiling, she allowed the darkness to claim her.
0101010
Naturally, it was as dark when she woke up as it had been in the windowless room when she woke up the first time. With a single, telling difference.
A red LED display showed the time as just past two in the morning.
"Bugger," she muttered, closing her eyes again as warmth and contentedness faded.
It was a beautiful dream, left her feeling so wonderful while she was having it, but waking up from it…
With another curse, she threw back her covers and sat up. There was no getting back to sleep on nights like this, never had been.
To lay alone and quiet in the dark after dreaming of everything that could have been, everything that should have been, was to invited self-recrimination even though, realistically, none of what had gone wrong had been her fault. She still blamed herself, felt she should have seen the signs earlier, somehow saved John from himself. Seen the dangers inherent in using the Source Blood…
If only she had, the dream would have been the reality, and the reality the nightmare. And such thinking could easily drive a woman mad, so she forced it from her mind, stepping out of bed and walking over to her computer desk. Anything to take her mind off of that wonderful dream.
There was always work to be done, for which she was grateful at times like these. Pulling up her email, she saw that the reports on morning briefings in the Far East were just starting to come in. Normally, she would review those in the morning, but Henry had some new security protocols he wanted to discuss with her, so it was just as well to take care of her correspondence now to leave her morning open for Henry.
She was quickly caught up in a report detailing a bashe sighting in southern China, an event which would almost certainly necessitate the presence of herself and her team.
By the time the morning briefing rolled around, she could not even remember which nightmare had interrupted her sleep this time. It hardly mattered; there were, after all, so many. None were particularly important.
"Good morning, everyone," she greeted them, distributing the files she had hastily thrown together.
Will raised an eyebrow as he perused his copy. "It's a dragon…"
"Sweet," Henry muttered, grinning.
"This won't be fun," was Ashley's contribution, although Magnus could see her mentally putting together a list of the weapons and equipment they would need.
"Now, heavy poaching has driven the creatures nearly to the point of extinction," Magnus began.
And so another day dawned at the Sanctuary…
End