Author's notes:
Hello! I am absolutely furious about the accusations that were made about Helen in 5x12! Obviously, the writers don't know Helen, because she would never do that! It felt like a punishment for Freema leaving the show! So this is my attempt to fix that! I had to clear her name.
The writers have always been super inconsistent with the timeline (literally, in 5x12, they said it had both been 5 years and 3 years since Max had cancer). I am going with 4 years. Georgia's headstone says she died in 2019, and I'm guessing that's early 2019 since she was heavily pregnant during that blizzard in season 1. Plus Max says in season 3 that he missed Luna's 1st birthday because of that pandemic. So my guess is she was born in late March or early April of 2019.
Tuesday, June 6th, 2023, 8:10 p.m., London
One year. It's been one year since Helen called Max in tears from this very spot in her living room, telling him she couldn't marry him. One year since she made the biggest mistake of her life.
Last Saturday, Elinor took Helen out to a pub for a check-in. It had been a rough week with the anniversary approaching. Helen reassured Elinor she was fine, but if she was honest with herself, she knew that was a lie. And it hasn't been just about Max either. Helen felt the need to prove herself at Hampstead, to make it work on her own. But even a year and a half later, she still feels like she's not quite fitting in. Most of her ideas either fail or are shot down. It feels like she's trying to swim up a waterfall. Maybe she had been in America too long to truly succeed in the British medical system.
After a frustrating day at work, followed by an argument with her mother, Helen tries to relax on the couch while watching the news and eating a bowl of Indian takeaway. The news anchors are talking about some sort of new bacterial infection they suspect is being passed around Europe because of a heat wave. "We had the opportunity to sit down and chat with Dr. Max Goodwin, head of Global Health Policy at the W.H.O. facility in Gevena, Switzerland. Let's pan over to the video, shall we?"
Helen almost drops her bowl of food. She can't even register what Max is saying in the prerecorded video. A million questions are running through her mind. When did Max move to Switzerland? Who did he leave New Amsterdam to? Whydid he leave New Amsterdam? Should I contact him? Or should I perceive his not showing up to our bar in New York as a sign not to? But maybe his moving to Europe is a sign that I should try again.
Helen stares blankly at the screen. It feels like an out-of-body experience seeing him. She wonders, supposing he saw her on the telly when she was in New York earlier this year, if he felt the same way. He looks good, Helen can't deny that much. Work/life balance in Switzerland is good, so maybe he's finally been getting some rest and spending more time with family. Luna! Second only to how terrible she feels about standing up Max at the altar, Helen's deepest regret is abandoning Luna, leaving the child without her second mother figure.
"Thank you for taking the time to speak with us."
"Not a problem. Now, remember folks. Do your part by washing your hands and staying home if you're experiencing any symptoms. This has been Dr. Max Goodwin at W.H.O. Over and out." Max does a goofy salute to bid everyone goodbye.
The tv switches back to the original news anchors, but whatever they're saying is going in one ear and out the other. Helen can't get the image of Max out of her head. Every cell in her body longs to be near him.
Helen dials the number for the W.H.O. headquarters. It rings twice before a woman with a German-like accent answers the phone. "Hello. You've reached The World Health Organization. How can I help you?"
Helen's heart is pounding in her chest. Her mouth is so dry that she almost forgets how to talk. "Erm, yes, hello. I was wondering if I could speak to Doctor Max Goodwin." Helen figures he probably had to change his cell phone number upon moving to Europe.
"I'm sorry, Doctor Goodwin has gone home for the evening. Would you like me to take a message?"
Truthfully, Helen is a little relieved he's not there right now. It gives her time to get her nerves sorted. "No, thank you. What are his office hours?"
"He works Mondays through Fridays from 8:00-16:00, so you're welcome to try again then."
"Alright. Thank you for your help."
"You're welcome. Have a pleasant evening."
Helen quickly researches flights from London to Geneva. There are some flights available this weekend, and it's less than a two-hour ride. Don't do it, Helen! Don't do this to yourself! He stood you up in New York for a reason.
Friday, June 9th, 4:05 p.m., Geneva
Max packs up and clocks out for the evening. Tonight, he's got a movie date with his favorite 4-year-old girl. He's loving Switzerland so far. They're very adamant about a healthy work/life balance, so over the past three months, he's finally been able to prioritize Luna the way he should.
As Max exits the hallway into the atrium, he stops dead in his tracks at the sight of the front desk. It can't be… can it? There she is, Helen, standing in all her glory, speaking to the receptionist. She's wearing a short-sleeved black shirt tucked into a skin-tight mid-length purple skirt, three-inch brown heels, a beige purse slung over her shoulder, and those familiar long black braids cascading down her back.
The receptionist says something while pointing in Max's direction, so Helen turns around, eyes softening when she sees him. Max doesn't know how to react. He's dreamt of this moment for so long, even wondered if Helen would come to see him after finding out about his new position. But all he can feel is bitterness as she strides over.
"Hi," she says softly upon reaching Max.
"Dr. Sharpe," he says. It's meant to sound professional, but it just comes out sounding cold and distant. "What are you doing here?"
"I, er, I heard you were working here now. I wanted to congratulate you."
"Received. Thank you."
She didn't expect much, but so far, this isn't going quite as well as Helen hoped. "I was wondering, can we catch up over a cup of coffee?"
Max scoffs, almost a laugh as if he can't believe Helen's audacity. "I've gotta get home. I promised Luna I'd take her to see the new Little Mermaid tonight." At the mention of his daughter's name, Max swears he sees tears well up in Helen's eyes. Good, he thinks to himself.
"No, yes, of course. You have obligations. How about tomorrow? I'm staying at a hotel nearby over the weekend."
"Helen, I really don't–"
"Please?" she begs in earnest. "I just… I'm so terribly sorry for everything I put you through last year. I don't expect anything in return, I don't even expect you to forgive me. But at least allow me the opportunity to explain some things. Please?"
Max wants to hate Helen. It's what she deserves. But he could never truly hate Helen, no matter how much he wants to. Seeing her standing in front of him, tears in her eyes, one step away from groveling, Max knows he can't resist. He pulls out his phone, types something, then puts it away as Helen's phone dings. "That's my new number. I need to find a sitter first, so I'll text you a time. You pick a place," he drones.
Relief floods Helen, letting out a heavy sigh as she steps closer. "Thank you."
"Don't, just, um…" Max backs up slightly, and it kills him that that's his first instinct. "I'll see you tomorrow, Helen." With that, Max strides out of the building before he can say something he'll regret. As soon as he's out the door, the tears start coming, and they don't stop until he approaches the train home.
Saturday, June 10th, 10:05 a.m.
Helen impatiently waits for Max at a chic French cafe in town. There's all sorts of modern artwork on the walls and a golden fountain in the cobblestone patio outside. The smooth jazz music playing through the speakers is making Helen more anxious than relaxing her. She takes a sip of her cappuccino to take her mind off waiting.
Max enters the building and scans the room. His eyes light up as he spots Helen, but he catches himself, knowing he shouldn't feel that way. As he approaches the table, Helen hesitantly stands. She's wearing a long-sleeved green floral print chiffon shirt and a med-length black pencil skirt that hugs her curves just right. God, she's so beautiful! Max's body language must show his walls crumbling down because the next thing he knows, he's allowing Helen to give him a soft, reserved hug. His nose automatically buries into her neck and hair. She still smells like sun and jasmine! Helen pulls away before he's ready, but that's probably for the best.
"I, er, I got you a large Red Eye," Helen says once she's seated, gesturing to the second cup in front of her. "That's still your drink, right?"
Max sits down opposite her. "Yeah, it is."
"Geneva is beautiful! I've never been to Switzerland before."
"Yeah. It's been a nice change." The architecture of the city is amazing, but Max has also been really enjoying the great outdoors with Luna.
"So… you're working for the W.H.O. When and how did that happen?"
"Well, they lost their head of Global Health Policy a few months ago, so they hit me up. Said they'd heard a lot about me in the news. It seemed like a good opportunity for a fresh start, so I couldn't pass it up."
"It must have been hard leaving New Amsterdam. Who took over?"
For some reason, the thought of even mentioning her name to Helen feels weird. "Elizabeth… um, Wilder." Shit! Max notices Helen's eyes squint in speculation, and wonders if she's reading things correctly. He should probably just tell her. It would be weird not to. "We, uh… dated for a few weeks, actually. Earlier this year."
"Oh," Helen mutters, feeling the corners of her lips drag down in shock, sadness, and disappointment.
"But obviously, we called it off when I moved over here."
"Of course." Helen doesn't really have anything nice to say about that information. How long did Max grieve before moving on? The idea of getting back in the dating game hasn't even crossed Helen's mind! Wilder seemed wonderful, spunky, and fun the few times Helen met her, but she can't bear to think of Max with anyone other than herself. So she changes the subject. "How's little Miss Luna?"
At the name, Max's guard goes back up. It's one thing risking his own heart to hear what Helen has to say. It's another getting Luna involved. He can't put her through that again. "Okay, you wanna just tell me why you came all this way to see me?" Max spits out, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. "I don't have all day."
The coldness in Max's tone stings. Helen straightens up in her seat, wiggling the cappuccino in front of her. "Alright. But I need you to not interrupt me, please allow me to get through my speech. Then if you still hate me afterward, we can go our separate ways and I promise I'll never contact you again."
Max wants to tell Helen that he doesn't hate her, that he never has. But he can't bear to just yet. So he simply nods instead.
Helen releases a long, nervous breath, then sits on her hands to stop them from fidgeting. "Okay. One year ago, I fully intended to get on that airplane. But on my way to the airport, my mother called to tell me she had suffered a heart attack."
"Oh, god, Helen!" Max can't help but react with sympathy to the news. Above all else, he and Helen were friends. And he wasn't there for her.
"She's alright, praise god. It was fairly mild. So I went to visit her at the hospital, but obviously, I had my suitcase with me, and I had to tell her about our wedding. We got into an argument, you know how I get around her. But she said you didn't actually listen to me, my concerns and fears. Ah-bup-bup! Don't interrupt!" Helen demands, holding up a finger as Max attempts to interject something. "You didn't take my thoughts into consideration. You simply told me we were getting married in New York. You were supposed to come back to London. "
Max can't ignore that she's right. He was just so excited to get married to Helen that he didn't stop long enough to realize she was giving him warning signs.
"Mum told me all sorts of things about my father and why she pushed him away, and how I'm just like the both of them, how I've always ran when things got difficult. And she didn't think I was ready for marriage. At first, I brushed it off, but the longer I thought about it, the more I knew she was right. I had a lot of unresolved issues regarding my father. The lies she told me about him growing up completely distorted how I felt about men and kids. So I knew that I needed to resolve those issues before I could be worth anything to…" to you, Luna, and our potential child, she wants to say, but Helen knows it's too late for that, "to anybody. Otherwise, I fear I'd end up doing the same thing my mother did."
Helen pauses, partially to catch her breath, partially to calm her nerves as she takes a sip of water. Max, thankfully, still seems intent on listening.
"Mum had it ingrained in me since childhood to tough it out, but I finally started seeing a therapist. I've been able to work through some of my trauma, things about my mother, my abandonment issues, the death of Muhammad, and we've been working on my confrontation and communication styles in relationships. It's hard work, but it's been really healing and helpful, and I've achieved a lot of personal growth." Helen places her hands on the table, half-tempted to reach out for Max, but she gets the feeling he'd pull away again. "Max, you are a beautiful human being, and you didn't deserve what I did. Please know the hurt I caused was unintentional. Everything I did, I did for you out of love. Getting you on Castro's precision-targeted therapy regimen, giving her half of my department, staying at New Amsterdam after I was demoted… all of it. And I hope that we can at least leave on peaceful terms."
"Like hell!" Max shouts out of nowhere.
Helen flinches back in her seat, surprised he would raise his voice like that at her in a public place.
"Why didn't you tell me you didn't want to get married yet? I would have stuck with you through all that!" He can't even get into how hurt he was that she changed the lock on their flat when he took the first flight to London after that phone call, or her sorry-ass excuse of a letter as an explanation, or the fact she shipped his and Luna's things back in the mail.
Helen expected Max to be closed off, but she didn't think he'd treat her with such disdain and disgust. "Listen, Max, I know what I did was wrong. I hurt you, I hurt Luna, and I hurt our friends. I understand if you can't forgive me, but..."
"Why should I?!" Max jeers. "I went through a lot of confusion, pain, and suffering to get over you! But I've got other reasons to be mad at you! I know what you did, Helen! You hurt a lot of patients and the future of medicine!"
"Did? What—?"
"Four years ago, you ran a blind cancer drug trial where 89% of the participants were white! You cut corners to expedite the process! Don't deny it!"
Helen is more confused than ever! "I beg your pardon?!" she declares in shock, cautioning Max to choose his next words carefully.
"You approved discriminatory parameters on a drug that had the potential to cure my cancer! You ran a skewed trail to save my life because you loved me!"
Helen blankly stares at Max, racking her brain for any memory of the incident in question. "I haven't the slightest idea what you're talking about!"
Max scoffs, hardly believing Helen would play dumb. "Lymphodril ring any bells for ya? It could have cured B-cell lymphoma, but no thanks to you, it has to be retested on a more diverse patient population. That's hundreds, maybe thousands of people who won't get treatment in the meantime!"
Lymphodril… Lymphodril… Oh! Oh no! "Max, Castro was running that trial! Not me! I suppose she must have forged my signature to avoid any potential backlash for herself."
Max's eyes soften just a bit. "Castro?"
"Even if I had signed off on those parameters, drug trials take years! So it would be completely and utterly nonsensical for me to do that in the hopes of saving your life. You would have been dead by the time it came to market! The only way Lymphodril could have saved you is if you had been a candidate for the trial, which you weren't. Plus you had already begun Castro's precision-targeted therapy by then!"
"Oh," Max utters, dejected. He had been so busy getting over Helen that he hadn't stopped to think through the timeline with logic and reason.
The implication of Max's accusation hits Helen like a knife to the gut. "How could you believe I'd do such a thing?! That's an insult to me as a doctor and an insult to my character! You know how much I fight for diversity in the medical world!"
"I saw your signature on the form, Helen! What was I supposed to think?!"
"You didn't even ask me about it, you just assumed the worst! I would never run a drug trial unethically, not even for you! I couldn't live with myself! And if you have any doubt I'm telling the truth, you don't truly know me." Through tears of hurt and rage prickling Helen's eyes, she feels the awkward whispers and glances of half the cafe on her and Max. She's got to get out of here! "And I suppose you're not who I thought you were either."
"I'm sorry, okay?" he says in a rushed half-assed apology, clearly not realizing how much he messed up.
"No, d'you know what?! This was a mistake. I shouldn't have come here." Helen grabs her bag and forces her seat back to stand up. "I can't do this."
"No, Helen! Don't go! Come on!" Max reaches out for Helen's hand as she passes.
"Don't!" Helen shouts, jerking her hand away from him.
Max is filled with insurmountable waves of guilt and regret as he watches Helen walk out of his life for the second time. But now, he can only blame himself.
Author's notes:
This will likely be 3 chapters. After this, I'm working on a season 4 finale rewrite that will be 2 or 3 chapters as well. Then I'll get back to writing Ease Away My Doubts. I've got lots of other fics in the meantime that you can access through my account.
Also, I have a hard time believing Max wouldn't take the first flight to London he could to check on Helen at the end of season 4! So I put in a nod to that in the story.