Disclaimer: Owning nuffin'.

A/N: Whoa, been super-busy! But I'm getting back into the writing groove and so I hope you enjoy this new fic of mine!

Chapter One

Wiping the blood off his knife on the pants of the dead man lying in front of him, he took a moment to enjoy the frozen look of surprise on the face of his victim. Blood slid down the sides of his face in rivulets, collecting in his ears, from the bullet wound directly to the middle of the forehead.

It would have been a surprise to anyone to walk into the security of your home only to stop dead in your tracks and be staring down the barrel of a gun. Without knowing the why and the how.

The bloody carving of a symbol on the victim's chest was an extra, a calling card, and a pleasure he derived all on his own.

In his pocket, his phone vibrated. With gloved hands, he extracted it and checked his message box.

It's done. Wire money as instructed, he typed before clicking an new, unopened email.

A picture popped up, along with a money amount, address, and deadline.

A black-gloved thumb ran over the lit screen, memorizing the brunette curls and blue eyes.

"Ashley, you don't want to do this. I don't want to do this. Please."

"Mom?"

"Ashley!"

Helen's book went flying off her lap and landing with a thump on the carpet as she shot up on the window seat, gasping for breath and breathing hard.

She looked around in disorientation at the unfamiliar settings when Helen realized that she was not in Old City, but her villa in France. It had not been the annual 'every seven years', but Helen had to leave.

One year had passed. One year since her daughter had sacrificed herself. One lonely year without her.

It had been hard, still was, to walk around the Sanctuary and be reminded of Ashley everywhere. Her presence had permeated everything, and some days, Helen wished she could lock herself in her office and cry, but the world continued to run, and there were Abnormals to deal with. The world did not stop, simply because for one long minute, a year ago today, it had for Helen.

Seeing all the somber faces at the Sanctuary had been horrible. Kate had been inconspicuous because at that time, she had not exactly been on their side and Will had thought that it would be a brilliant healing exercise for everyone to gather in memorial and say what they loved most about Ashley Magnus.

This was one time Helen wanted to snap that Will had not been and would never be a mother.

And so she left. With minimal notice to everyone; Helen packed up, leaving her laptop, her cell phone, and essentially disappeared.

Her villa was located in an isolated part of France, remote and rural, and she thought, had contained exactly what she needed to properly mourn her daughter. Quiet solitude and peaceful surroundings to cry over her child that she loved so much.

Instead, Helen found herself haunted by nightmares in the silence of the huge villa with nothing to distract her from relieving that horrible day. Over and over, Helen saw Ashley changed, altered by the Cabal and used, and that one heart-breaking moment when Ashley's beautiful blue eyes, so much like her own, returned awash with realization of what she had become.

It was dark outside and she had fallen asleep, only to suffer a nightmare. Whether here or at the Sanctuary, the nightmares followed her. Helen rubbed a weary hand over her face and swung her legs over the edge of the window seat to pick up her book.

Only to pause and cock her head, listening to the silence around her. Or rather, the near-silence, save a faint echo on the marble floors throughout.

Helen was the only one there, by all rights, and on bare feet, sprinted across the carpet and into her purse for the gun she never went without.

Someone was in her house.

Opening her bedroom door, Helen tiptoed out. The sun had long set and the dim moonlight shining through the double-height windows were all she had to guide her.

The echo grew closer and turned into the soft foot-falls of soled shoes, heading steadily in her direction. Helen plastered herself against a wall, gun raised, and waited. Her mind raced as to who had tracked her down here, why, and what they wanted.

A dark shape loomed in the shadows and Helen reacted instantly, crouching and sweeping her foot out, catching the intruder in the back of the knees and sending them toppling backward.

He twisted to the side, throwing his hands out to catch himself, and Helen threw herself at him, trying to contain his hands and gaining the upper hand. He evaded her attempt and grabbed her wrists, rolling them over so that he was on top of her. Helen grunted and raised her head to slam into his face. The man had the audacity to chuckle when he moved his head out of range, but Helen waited for this. With his weight lessened on her body, it gave her more room to twist her body to the left and bring her right knee sharply up to dig into his stomach.

Letting out a grunt, Helen yanked her wrists free, furious and gearing up for murder.

Rolling them over, Helen straddled the intruder and pointed her gun directly at his face.

Nikola's arrogant smirk greeted her. His blue-gray eyes sparkled up at her as he raised his hands to the side of his face in mock-surrender. "Well hello, Helen. I've always wanted to get rough with you; never imagined it on the floor, though I will take what I can get."

Helen scowled and her hand tightened around her gun wanting to shoot him for his antics when her conscious reminded her that Nikola was no longer bullet-proof. Damn it all to hell. She'd have to be careful around him now. A sadistic part of Helen had rather relished the fact that she could shoot Nikola when he got on her nerves and not have to worry about the consequences. "Nikola..." she sighed. "What, may I ask, are you doing here?"

Helen made a move to get up, but Nikola's hands descended upon her waist, keeping her straddled on top of him. "No, no, please don't get up. I've often wondered, what this would be like too," he murmured. Nikola shifted subtly underneath her.

"Nikola!" Helen slapped his hands away and hastily got off to one side. "Get up."

"It often seems Helen, that you like saying my name." Nikola got up and dusted himself off. "Rest assured, I have not given up hope in hearing you scream it in a tone other than anger."

"What are you doing here?"

"Can't an old friend visit another?" Nikola smiled at her.

Helen huffed and started walking away. "When that friend is you, your visits are always viewed with a healthy dose of suspicion. How did you know about this place?"

"It wasn't that hard, Helen." Nikola caught up to her with his lanky stride. "You look absolutely beautiful, by the way." His eyes roved over her blue cotton dress with thin straps in appreciation. "So unlike what I've seen you wear. It suits you."

At his sincere tone, rarely used, Helen softened. She looked over at him. "What are you doing here, Nikola?"

"It's been a year. Since that day." Nikola hesitantly caught her hand to stop her. Holding it with both hands, he peered into her eyes. "I know that you would probably like to be alone, but..." He blinked. "I thought it best that you weren't."

His words made Helen's eyes water as tears rose to the surface. Biting her lip, she looked away. His hand, warm against her own, anchored her against the flood of emotions rising up in her. "I thought that if I got away, it would help. Away from the constant reminders. But I see her face, hear her voice...whether I'm awake or sleeping." Helen sniffed, shifted her gaze to the ceiling, trying not to cry. "I never managed to take Ashley here. I was always so busy, and there was never any time." Helen's face began to crumble as Ashley's smiling face flashed through her mind. "And now it's too late." She began to sob.

Nikola swallowed a lump in his throat at watching her shatter. Wordlessly, he gathered Helen in his arms, tightening them as her face buried itself in the crook of his neck and cried hot tears. "Helen...I'm so sorry."

He wrapped one arm around her waist, steadying her against him while he used the other to rub circles on her back, sliding up to tangle his fingers in those brunette curls. Nikola closed his own eyes, heart breaking as Helen's body shook with sobs against his own. And he wondered if she had ever had time to properly grieve.

Helen's muffled sobs echoed in the marble hallways of the empty villa and Nikola turned his head to plant a comforting kiss against her hair. "I'm so sorry, Helen," he repeated, burying his nose in her curls.

A few minutes in Nikola's strong comforting embrace and Helen began to quiet down, full of heartache, but out of tears. It was the first time since Ashley's death that Helen had truly broken down and cried. Sniffling lightly, Helen gently broke away and smiled wanly at Nikola. "I needed that."She hiccuped lightly. "Thank you, Nikola. For being here." Helen looked into his eyes sincerely before dropping to the collar of his blue dress shirt, wet and marked with mascara. "But I've ruined your shirt. And I must look like a frightful mess." Helen began wiping at her face.

Nikola stopped her by catching her hands with his. He shook his head and gazed at her with soft eyes. "You always look beautiful to me, Helen. And you're welcome." For once, it wasn't a smirk that graced his lips, but a genuine tender smile. "But now," he took a deep breath, "what say you take pity on this old friend of yours and show him a room to rest? I'm finding myself once again with the affliction of needing to sleep."

Helen laughed quietly. "Of course. This way."

It did not go unnoticed by either that she still held onto his hand. Before there was love (on his part at least), there had been a close friendship. The two of them had been friends even before the formation of The Five, and that bond, with its ups and downs, was still tight as ever. Nikola was there to give comfort, and Helen, for once thankful, took that comfort. In fact, Nikola was probably the only person with whom Helen could comfortably drop her mask and vice versa.

Feeling lighter than she had in days, Helen smiled to herself as she weaved her fingers through those of the man who was the reason for it.