Timeline: Shortly after "Edward"

Not Her Father's Daughter

"Just a second," Will called in response to the tapping on his bedroom door. He shrugged on his bathrobe before opening the door. "Ashley?"

"Hey. I didn't wake you, did I?" she asked, looking rattled.

"No, you didn't wake me," he assured her. "What's going on?"

"Uh, you said we could talk. If I ever needed to, you know, talk."

"I did say that," he agreed, stepping back to allow her into the room. "The offer stands. I was just about to have a cup of tea. Care to join me?"

She frowned. "Thought you were a coffee guy."

"At this hour, I don't need all that caffeine. I struggle with insomnia sometimes."

Ashley entered the bedroom, looking around curiously. He had made it practical with a small refrigerator, hot-plate, and microwave so he could work through without needing to break for meals, but he had not really added any personal touches yet. Two chairs were arranged intimately close before the fireplace, and Ashley's eyes fell on them.

"You get many patients coming to you here?"

"My policy is to have my door open 24/7 and the guests here know that. You want that tea? It's chamomile." At her nod, he filled two cups with water from the jug. "Sugar? Milk?"

"No thanks. Just the tea's fine."

She walked over to the fireplace and picked up a poker, stirring up the ashes. Will watched her for a moment, watching her free hand clench and unclench a couple of times.

"You're upset," he observed, placing two cups of tea in the microwave and turning it on. He closed the door and moved to join her. "Did something happen?"

"I've been having some dreams lately. Bad ones."

"And you had one just now?" he asked, bending to pick up a few logs and throw them onto the fire.

"Uh, yeah." She nodded, looking embarrassed.

"You're fully clothed," he noted.

"Coming to you at this hour was bad enough. I wasn't about to show up at your door in my skivvies."

He gave her an understanding smile and went to retrieve their tea. "Have a seat. You sure you don't want anything in yours?"

"Sugar gives me a buzz and I'm lactose intolerant. If I want to get any sleep at all tonight, I'd better take it plain."

"It's good stuff," he told her, handing her a mug and gesturing for her to sit down. "The big guy gets it from this online place, Mountain Rose, I think it's called."

"Mountain Rose, yeah." She nodded. "He's a real herbalism nut. Natural remedies, all that good stuff."

She accepted the tea with a weak smile and sat down, blowing to cool it. Or possibly just to buy herself time before she had to speak. Will sat down, sipping his tea. The fresh flowers made it tasty enough that there was no real need for additives like sugar and milk. And Magnus had been right; it did help him sleep. After a few sips, he put his cup down and just smiled expectantly at Ashley. He knew the pattern. The same people who were reluctant to start talking would quickly find the silence even more unbearable than the conversation they were reluctant to initiate in the first place.

Of course, Ashley Magnus was not like other girls.

She returned his look with a steady gaze of her own that soon had him shifting uncomfortably. Which was a neat trick to be able to do to a man whose career had been spent evaluating hardened killers.

He cleared his throat. "I've got some chocolate in the fridge," he offered. "Excellent for your serotonin levels. Might make sleeping easier later on."

She closed her eyes and nodded her head, just once. "That would be great, Will."

He climbed to his feet and retrieved the chocolate bar, handing it to her before sitting back down.

"You've got something you need to get off your chest, but you're scared to say it out loud."

"Something like that," she admitted, making a production of unwrapping the candy as an excuse not to look at him.

"Because, sometimes, admitting a thing out loud makes it seem more real?" he ventured.

"When you can't talk about it to your Mom or your best friend, when you're scared to confide it to the resident shrink…" She broke off a large chunk of chocolate and crammed it into her mouth.

"Well, I hope it goes without saying that anything you confide in me doesn't go beyond that door? And I like to think that our relationship is a little more than just a potential patient to the 'resident shrink'."

"I know," she whispered. "It's still hard."

"I see. Can you tell me why it's difficult to articulate?"

"Makes it more real, like you said."

"And real is bad for this? You aren't a woman who likes to admit to having weaknesses," he ventured. "But no one is completely free of flaws and fears."

"I've got plenty of both," she answered ruefully.

"I think we all do, Ashley. You aren't unique in that. Unique in a lot of other ways, but not in the fundamental ones."

"My father was Jack the Ripper, Will," she pointed out, staring into her tea. "You honestly think I can ever be normal?"

"You'll never be normal. You're a special woman. Strong and brave and…"

"And violent," she continued when he hesitated for a moment. "Impulsive, rash, temperamental." She looked up at him, putting her tea down. "I fight. It's what I do, what I'm good at…"

"Yes, and you do a lot of good that way."

"Sure I do, but the good's incidental." She closed her eyes, then rubbed her face hard with both hands. "I don't fight because Mom needs someone to fill that role. I fight because I like it."

"You're hardly alone in that," he pointed out. "A lot of people enjoy the martial arts."

"I'm not talking about katas and belts and bags and pulled punches. I'm talking about knock-down, drag-out struggles to the death. I enjoy those. Hell, sometimes I get off on them!"

"Which can't be easy for you," he observed. "Not when you try so hard not to be like your father."

"In my dreams, I am like him. I do those same things and I enjoy them! What does that say about me?" she demanded, her voice full of self-loathing.

"Honestly? It says that you're terrified that you've inherited some genetic legacy of evil. But that's crap, Ashley, it is. Sure, you're predisposed to enjoy a certain degree of violence and rough play."

She blanched at those words and Will realized that the phrase 'rough play' could be taken a few ways. He was not sure he wanted to get into the reasons why she had such a visible reaction to the words, not unless it was something she decided she needed to discuss with him. He plowed on.

"What makes you different from Druitt is what you do with the impulses. We've all got them. The difference between you and him is something called sublimation."

She frowned. "What's that?"

"It's one of the few decent ideas Freud had in his career. Sublimation is when we channel destructive impulses into a constructive outlet. In your case, saving lives by taking out dangerous abnormals. It's not a bad thing that you do, Ashley."

"I know," she sighed. "But I come back down from that high and I just feel so… wrong! Unnatural."

"You aren't unnatural, Ashley. You're one of the most genuine, honest women I know. Of course, I could be slightly biased. As I recall, the first time we met, you saved my life."

"That was just instinct taking over."

"Saving innocent lives is an instinct and you're still worried about your own humanity?"

"Stop trying to make me feel better," she muttered.

"Saving lives comes naturally to you. Trying to make people feel better comes naturally to me. We're as God made us, Ashley. You really think we should try to fight that?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "I just… wish I could sleep through the night."

"I can give you a mild sedative," he offered. "It should make your sleep more restful."

"Don't know how I feel about psych meds."

"You don't have a mental disorder, Ashley. You have a perfectly natural response to what's been an insane couple of months for you. There's no more shame in taking a tranquilizer for a nightmare than there is in taking an aspirin for a headache."

She shook her head. "Mom keeps the meds under lock and key. I couldn't get at them if I wanted to."

"I'm a doctor, too. She gave me a copy of the key. I tell her I took the pills for a patient, she never needs to know who."

"And I'd be able to sleep without the dreams?"

He nodded. "Probably, yes."

"Then let's do it. I'm on a beta-blocker. Is that going to be a problem?"

"No," he assured her. "If it were an MAOI, we'd have a problem. As it is, the beta-blocker will boost the effect of the tranquilizer, but not to any dangerous or unpleasant degree." He rose and fished out his key to the medicine cabinet. "Shall we?"

Ashley followed him silently down to the infirmary, taking the pill he offered and dry-swallowing.

"I don't ever want to be like him, Will," she whispered after she had. "Don't suppose you have a pill for that?"

"Numerous pills moderate mood and personality. If you think that's something you'd like to pursue, I'd be open to discussing your options with you. But psychotherapy would probably be just as viable an approach, and one with far fewer side-effects."

"I don't think I'll be able to get to sleep alone tonight," she muttered quickly.

Will stared at her with wide eyes. "Uh, that's… complicated. The minute you came to me in my capacity as a psychiatrist--"

Her eyes widened and she blushed. "No, I didn't mean that. Seriously, I just don't think I can handle being alone right now."

"You're welcome to spend some time sitting up with me, or I can sit up with you," he offered. "Or I can talk to Henry."

She frowned, a little too defensively. "What makes you think I'd want Henry involved?"

"He is your best friend," Will pointed out. "He'd sit up with you in a heartbeat."

"Could you talk to him? I mean, without telling him what we talked about?"

"I'd point out that Henry, more than anyone, knows what it is to have and to fear having a dark side to your nature. But I can talk to him without bringing it up, sure."

"I… I'd appreciate it." She cleared her throat, looking embarrassed. "When I was little, I'd have nightmares, and I'd go straight to Henry. Not even to Mom, but to Henry. He was a teenager, didn't have to give me the time of day, you know? But he'd take me in his lap and make this wolfish growling noise like he was chasing the demons away, and then I could sleep again."

Will smiled faintly. "You're lucky to have each other." He touched her cheek lightly with the back of two fingers. "You go get yourself ready for bed. I'll talk to Henry."

"You're a prince, Will. You know that?"

"I'm a doctor. I do what needs to be done to make my patients well. Go ahead, Ashley. I'll talk to Henry."

"Thanks." She kissed his cheek, then turned and left the infirmary.

0101010

"You knew about the nightmares?" Will asked, staring at Henry.

The werewolf gave a defensive shrug. "You can hear her moaning sometimes, crying. Man, I'd have brought it to you if I'd thought she wanted you to know, but I didn't think she wanted anyone to know, including me, so I kept my mouth shut."

"She mentioned how you used to sit up with her when she was a little girl," Will told him.

"Protective big brother. Yeah, that's exactly how I want Ash thinking of me," he sighed.

Will frowned sympathetically. Henry knew his crush on Ashley was kind of hard to miss. Thus far, Will had been kind enough to refrain from calling him on it.

"I can tell her you were asleep, or…"

"No. I'll go to her," Henry assured him. "You need anything else with her tonight?"

"Nah. I think she's done with me for now. But if the two of you should need me, you know where I can be found."

"Twenty-four/seven, for which I, at least, am grateful." Henry gave his friend a smack on the shoulder. "I'll take good care of her, Will."

"Thanks, man. But, seriously, if I'm needed, the hour doesn't matter."

"You won't be needed," Henry assured him. "So you might as well get some sleep. This is a ritual with the two of us that goes way back. Sometimes it takes a monster to chase away all the other monsters."

"That's fine. But you know where to find me if either of you needs anything."

Which Henry supposed was Will's way of saying that he knew how the werewolf felt about the monster hunter and that he would be there to help pick up the pieces should Ashley break Henry's heart. Well, since Henry was not fool enough to offer any such thing to a woman like Ashley, there would be no need. He gave Will a last reassurance, saw the shrink as far as his own door, then went to Ashley's, knocking.

The door opened so quickly that Henry had no doubt that Ashley had been waiting right on the other side. She was dressed in her favorite sweatpants and tank, and her defensive expression was replaced by a smile the minute she saw Henry.

"I'm sorry I had Will wake you…"

"Time was you woke me yourself, instead of going through an intermediary." He smiled down at her, turning sideways to squeeze into the room past her without making physical contact. "Guess you need to talk?"

"No. Just need to feel a familiar heartbeat and smell a familiar smell. Do you mind?"

"If I did, would I be here?" Sighing, he opened his arms to her. When she had stepped into his embrace and half-collapsed against him, he asked, "What's this about, huh?"

"Will didn't tell you?"

"Nah. Just said doctor/patient privilege."

"Been having these nightmares. Bad ones."

"Oh, Ash." He tightened his hold on her, steering her towards the bed. "Come on, baby-doll."

"Thanks, Hen," she whispered, letting herself be led.

She was bigger than she had been as a little girl, but he was bigger than he had been as a teenager, too. So he climbed into the bed, his back against the headboard, and waited for her to settle down next to him, resting one cheek against his chest. Sighing softly, he wrapped his arms around her, smiling as she did the same to him.

"You going to make me sing to you, like in the old days?" he chuckled.

She shook her head without lifting it from his chest. "I sometimes don't know what I'd do without you, Henry. I'm glad Mom rescued you that day."

"Can't complain about it too much myself," he answered, settling her more comfortably. After a good five minutes spent in mutual silence, he told her, "I don't want all the answers, not even most of them. But if you could give me a general idea what this is about…"

"My father."

Henry sighed and kissed the top of her head. Ashley had been taking the news so hard…

"Tell me I'm not like him, Henry. I need to know that."

"Hell, Ash, of course you aren't," he assured her, squeezing tight. "You're nothing like that lunatic. You're so good and so… pure."

She laughed bitterly, but made no attempt to pull herself free. "Pure? That's almost as good as Will's."

"Why? What did he call you?"

"Honest."

"He's got a point." Henry kissed the top of her head again. "Get some sleep. I'll stay with you."

"You don't have to."

"No, but I want to. So just relax. I'm here, baby sister."

She turned her head just enough to smile up at him. "You don't honestly still think of me that way?"

"Ash," he admitted, shaking his head. "Half the time I'm not sure what I think of you."

"That good or bad?"

"Depends on whether you're me or not. I adore you, always. Just… some other thoughts get muddled. Which doesn't matter, 'cause I'll always love you. And be here to protect you. I mean, Will's great and everything. But we are family."

She sighed softly in response to this, cuddling closer. Before long, she was asleep in his arms, resting against his chest, her own rising and falling in a steady rhythm. As it had been so many times when she was a little girl.

But it was different with Ashley the adult. For one thing, it was satisfying on a whole different level. For another… No, the one difference was enough. Family was family, but it came in many permutations. How he felt about her, how he wished she felt about him, none of that changed what they shared, what they had shared for almost twenty-four years now.

He smiled and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent. It had changed in recent years, not like her mother's. Magnus gave off a smell that reminded Henry of walking into the archives, immersing himself in books that were sometimes centuries old. It was old but pleasant, full of history, and still invigorating for a man like him. Almost precisely like going home.

Ashley's own scent was different. Younger and more alive. Reminiscent of fresh-cut grass in a way that had nothing to do with the actual scent but everything to do with the way that scent made you feel. Swinging in a hammock, going over specs on your computer tablet. You felt welcomed, like you really belonged. She had never viewed him as a freak, never would. Which only reinforced the sense of integration into your surroundings.

He kissed the top of her head again, shifting just a tad to get more comfortable. Ashley mumbled a protest at this, throwing one leg over his and tightening her hold. Henry smiled and closed his own eyes, just enjoying the physical and emotional intimacy of it all. He kissed the top of her head again.

"Night, Ashley."

"Night, Henry," she yawned.

His eyes widened. "Sorry. Didn't realize you were still awake."

"Not for much longer. You should get some rest, too."

"You don't mind if I stay?"

"Nah, you're good here." The she lifted one hand to his chest, lightly patting him over the heart.

"Yes," he agreed, smiling. "I am. Sweet dreams, Ash."

"Don't see how they could be anything but…"

End