I seem to always start with an apology for a long hiatus. Oh well. Hope you enjoy!

Her hands were shaking now that it was over, and if Theseus hadn't been quick to retrieve the weapon loosely clutched in her hand, it surely would've clattered to the ground. Potentially discharging another round.

Dead.

Helen had shot the man dead. Without hesitation and nearly without thought. At the time, the only thoughts that had registered before taking aim and pulling the trigger had been:

1. She would not lose Theseus to one of his enemies, and

2. They could leave no witnesses.

Helen felt Theseus' muscular arm come around her back and take hold along her ribs, holding her firmly against his side. She hadn't realized until then that she'd been unable to move and unable to walk straight even with his incessant prodding to do so. Muffled though his voice was due to the ringing still clamoring in her ears, Helen could at least tell he was trying to say something to reassure her.

There was no need, not really. She didn't regret killing the wizard anymore than she regretted buying the pistol during the short time she'd been free from Theseus' monitoring after she'd knocked him unconscious. That had been a few days before and, in the time since then, Helen had resigned herself to Theseus' view of reality and had increased her own vigilance in trying to spy out potential threats, instead of being a flight risk to Theseus and thereby lowering his guard to real threats.

Opening the car door and depositing her in the front seat, Theseus left the car door open before turning and head back down the embankment to where the body lay among the shrubs of heather. In a few months, this area of Scotland would be covered in the pinkish-purple blooms of the low-lying shrub. For now, however, it was brown, grey, and harsh. The misted wind returned, and through the v-shaped gap in the open door, Helen felt the sting of its frigid breath against her skin. Clutching her hands together, she took in deep breaths, slowly, in through her nose and out through her mouth, willing herself to return to some semblance of normal so she could help Theseus.

Theseus had been the one to spy the man, trailing them through the town they'd stopped in for petrol and victuals a few hours before. He had said little to Helen at the time aside from, "Remain casual but close." They were still uncertain how far the radius was that she negated magical spells, but it was quite likely the man had some sort of spell that allowed him to listen in on their conversations if he wasn't already within the radius. Once back on the road, Theseus had explained that and walked Helen through the next steps they would have to take now that it seemed their original route to the safe house had been exposed. Or soon would be.

Not twenty kilometers outside of town, and the man returned, aggressively so, using his car in an effort to push them off the road and down the sloping embankment on either side of the pavement. Instead, with Theseus' quick reflexes and skilled driving, the result was the opposite, and the would-be assassin ended up rolling off the side of the road and into the brambles just below. Parking not far from the wreck, Theseus had gotten out of the car to investigate, instructing Helen to remain behind. Which she did, but only complying after she covertly pulled out the pistol and ensured its readiness to fire.

Perhaps due to her proximity to the wreckage or due to the man's own savage nature, but within a few meters of the overturned vehicle, the wizard attacked Theseus from out of nowhere, taking him down with a guttural yell. Helen had quickly exited the car and held the pistol up, tracking their movements as they scrambled and wrestled on the sodden earth. When Theseus kicked the man off him, the attacker standing upright and staggering backward to gain a better foothold to attack again, that had been when Helen fired. Though she hadn't intended to kill him, only wound him, her accuracy surpassed her own expectations, and the round went directly through the attacker's forehead, near in the middle of it, in fact.

Feeling returned to her fingers, and finally, her hearing cleared enough to hear the lonely sounding hum the wind created as it whished across the land. Helen took a deep breath before standing and carefully picking her way back down the embankment to Theseus' side. When he heard her approach, Theseus held up a hand and shook his head.

"I don't think you should come any closer, I-"

"Theseus, I guarantee I've seen worse back in France." Helen brushed aside his hand and his concerns as she came to stand beside him, gazing down at the body.

Theseus held onto her elbow to steady her before Helen recognized the shudder that wracked her body and momentarily threw her into a sway. He was younger than she expected, though no child. Handsome, aristocratic features that were now covered in brain matter and blood greeted her first. While yes, she had, in fact, seen worse in the War, the difference between that gore and this was that SHE had caused this death, whereas, in France, she'd been seeking to stop death.

"Are you alright?" His voice was soft, the warmth of his breath fanning out on her temple as he turned towards her, shielding her from the worst of the wind with his body.

Helen swallowed the dry lump stuck in her throat and nodded, "I will be." Taking a steadying breath, she glanced around the wreckage then back to Theseus, "So do we make it look like a carjacking gone wrong and take whatever is of worth off his body and his car, or do you want me to drive away far enough so you can dispose of this with your magic?"

Theseus' eyes widened. It was a look of surprise, but it wasn't apparent yet if the shock was from a place of respect or horror at how quickly Helen had switched gears from recognizing death to disposing of evidence.

"Best we make it look like a carjacking." He spoke after a heartbeat of contemplation.

Theseus handled the body while Helen scoured through the car, looking for anything of worth. Mostly maps, random papers, a few quid, and a flask of whiskey were all she found worth taking. Figuring some of the papers or maps would prove helpful to Theseus and they could always use the money. Theseus returned to the car with a few more items taken off the body: silver pocket watch, two ornate silver rings, identical to one another, of snakes entwining and rearing up to engulf an emerald, the man's wallet, and the man's wand. Theseus handed all the items over to Helen for further study, but kept the wand and tucked it into his coat.

They were back on the road and speeding away in less than an hour from the time Helen pulled the trigger. Driving in silence, Helen went through the man's wallet, finding various business cards, more money, the man's ID, and a picture of Helen cut out from a newspaper. Feeling fear course icily through her veins, Helen held up the man's ID for Theseus to glance at.

"Do you know a Maximillian Robierre?"

Theseus shook his head after a brief glimpse at the ID. "No, I've never met him before. But the rings are a familiar design. A few other Acolytes among Grindewald's minions have had similar rings. I'm not certain if Grindewald himself has anything to do with that or if it is just coincidental." His eyes moved from the road back to Helen, and he stiffened when he saw the newspaper clipping in her hand. "Where did you get that?"

"His wallet. There's nothing written on the back, and so far, looking through the papers I found in his vehicle, I see nothing in particular about me. Except this." Helen flipped the newspaper clipping to study it again. It was a picture taken almost four years ago at a convention in Austria. She'd met more than a few higher-ups in the medical field at the convention, and in the picture, she was just one of many standing in a group together with some of the greatest medical minds of Europe. "I'm curious if it is possible that it is not exactly me for me they were after, but through me someone I met at this convention in Austria?" Looking back to Theseus, the hope that had momentarily built in her mind was immediately punctured and deflated. "I thought you said no one else really knew about me?"

Theseus shook his head. "We know little they know about you, though it seems they know about you now. And I'm not sure how they tracked us down here, but I believe the safe house is compromised, and we will have to think of something else."

Helen fell silent as she looked back through the papers and maps. The maps were primarily ordinary road maps, but a few looked to be traced out interiors for buildings. The papers were in various languages, from French to German, even Russian, and while she could decipher a bit of the French and German, the Russian was well beyond her abilities. Her head ached as they continued to travel. The early dusk for this time of year making it difficult to read clearly anymore. They'd gotten off the main road and dipped through a few small villages before finding another road heading towards the western coastline. It was still undecided where exactly they were headed, aside from well away from that body.

"I didn't know you had a gun." Theseus broke the silence with his comment, jarring Helen out of her thoughts.

She'd been rubbing her temples to stave off the headache, but dropped her hands back into her lap and leaned her head against the door. "While you were unconscious, yes. I found a store still open and charmed the owner out of a pistol for a fair price. Technically, it is your pistol since I bought it with your money."

Helen heard Theseus snort in amusement, thankfully more amused than frustrated at her earlier antics for escape. He'd since forgiven her the thievery and physical harm.

"I didn't know you were that good of a shot," Theseus spoke as if uncertain if it was a good thing or bad thing to be pursuing the topic, making Helen smile wryly.

"In truth, that's the first time I've ever fired a pistol. I've used rifles before, but never a pistol." Helen raked a hand through her hair and gave a breathy laugh, "I have to say I prefer rifles, and it's a miracle I didn't hit you. This pistol has a most unexpected kickback, and the barrel seems to like to point downward far more than any rifle ever did."

"Your confession does not instill me with much confidence, Helen." Theseus glanced at her using his peripherals. After a breath, he added, "Thank you, Helen. For doing what you did."

Shaking her head, Helen growled, "I wasn't trying to kill him. I figured wound him, question him, then, if needed, kill him. But it all happened so quickly, and all my body seemed to register was that the threat against you had to be eliminated and that our survival would be more likely if the man died. So," Helen made a fake pistol out of her fingers and mimicked pulling the trigger, "my body acted without my mind."

Theseus was silent for a turn, and Helen wondered if her bluntness regarding the cold-blooded murder she'd just committed had him worrying after her sanity or even his own safety. But when he spoke again, it had nothing to do with her brutality and had everything to do with the ghosts of the War.

"I know exactly what you mean, Helen. That happened a lot on the line. Those of us who'd make it through a charge, or survive a charge, would come out on the other side, often confused about how we got there. We'd done things or seen things done, that were so far outside of our norm, outside of behaviors we thought ourselves capable of, that it was hard to accept that the same man who'd done THAT in the battle was the man staring back in the mirror."

Helen reached out and laid a hand on Theseus' forearm. He glanced at her a moment before he took his hand off the steering wheel and held her hand in his own, resting on the seat between them. Thankful that he was skilled with one-handed driving, Helen was content to hold his hand and feel the warmth and reassurance of his presence flow through their physical connection.

The companionable silence lasted a few moments longer before Helen squeezed Theseus' hand and sat up straighter, "Wooly!"

Raising an eyebrow, Theseus put both hands back on the wheel, "Wooly?"

"Yes, Wooly Red Wilberforce! He was with our unit in France! He lives on the Isle of Lewis with his family, a town called…" Helen scratched her head for a few moments before it came to her, "Grimshader!" Helen slapped the seat in satisfaction and leaned back, "Do any of your wizards make their way out to the Hebrides often?"

Theseus shook his head, "Not that I'm aware of."

"Well then, drop me at Strathcanaird, and I'll make my way to Port a Bhaigh alone to book a ferry. Best we part ways on this side, so if anyone else does track us, they don't know who to follow. If we don't stop longer than to get petrol from here on out, we should make it to Strathcanaird tomorrow evening, and I doubt Mister Robierre's associates will think anything is amiss in that short of time. And if, as you say, the safe house has been compromised, then they'll head northeast instead of northwest."

Theseus was quiet for far longer than Helen expected as a result of her idea. She knew he was a deep thinker and so kept bridled her desire to prod a response out of him.

"If you know of anyone else in the Hebrides, I suggest you look them up." Helen opened her mouth to question him, but kept silent at the shake of Theseus' head and let him finish. "I can't guarantee I won't be captured in the coming fight, and if they do know about you and deem you threat enough against them, then they'll torture your location out of me. I'd rather you find somewhere safe and don't tell me. Though, yes, your plan is good for a start."

Helen nodded again. "If you need to trade out for driving, let me know."

"Oh no, you shoot better than you drive." Theseus ducked away from the playful swat Helen aimed for the side of his head. "I'll handle the driving. You talk to me about all the men and women you met at that convention in Austria. While I don't think what you suggested is fact, I won't write it off completely. Maybe there is a connection somewhere they're trying to chase down through you."

Helen chased the requested memories down more than a few rabbit holes, dragging Theseus along with her in her reminiscing. Though initially intended to find a possible connection between Grindewald and the men she met at the convention, the conversation train quickly derailed into other topics. Some serious, similar to the shared moment about surviving battles, and some light, such as Theseus explaining some of his brother Newt's quirks. They spoke long into the evening, only pausing when they had to get more petrol and ate petrol station sandwiches while Theseus leaned against the side of the car, and Helen sat on the boot, her feet swing off the end as she talked about growing up with her eccentric father.

It was strange that a morning that began with death could end with camaraderie. This was the first time Helen could think of that they'd truly opened up to each other about things from their past, and not the shared past, but the youngest past, in far earlier days before either of them had lost their innocence. It was a delight to catch glimpses of a precocious young Theseus through his stories, and it seemed he found the youthful version of Helen not so different from the present one based on his reactions to her stories.

They resumed their drive and kept talking until Helen's eyes grew so heavy she had to shake herself every so often to stay awake.

"You can lay your head on the seat between us," Theseus offered, having noticed her valiant efforts to remain awake. "I'm not tired, so you don't need to keep me company."

"Really?" Helen yawned before shifting on the bench seat to curl up as he'd indicated, the top of her head pressing against the side of his thigh, "I've enjoyed talking to you. I just can't stay awake any longer."

"We can talk more in the morning. For now, get some rest." She heard the smile in Theseus' voice when he spoke, the interior of the car too dark to see.

Helen was on the verge of sleep when she felt something warm and comforting touch her shoulder. Subtly shifting her body as if in a sleep-induced stretch, Helen smiled when she realized it was Theseus' hand resting on her shoulder. Helen curled closer to his side in an almost feline move and pressed more firmly against his hand. In the surrounding dark, she heard a chuckle come from Theseus, but nothing more. Helen fell asleep with the same smile, having, for the moment, wholly forgotten about anything outside of the man in the car beside her.