Dedication :

1. For 'mayireadtoday' who inspired this fic, and for generally being supportive and inspirational with everything i've written. Someone who opened Helen Magnus up to me in a whole new light (and Ashley). Someone who has always taken time to encourage and give feedback, not only to me, but to so many people. And who is an incredibly creative person with the most amazing story prompts and ideas. You're amazing, and this is for you.

2. Also for Tonya Buchanan, another dear friend who has never stopped encouraging me and believing me, and has helped me to explore HG Wells in a way I was never able to. I adore you and I can't wait til you visit Australia! I can't tell you how much your friendship means to me.

AN:

1. I've always been fond of "HG" as opposed to "Helena", so I make no apology for my heavy use of the term! Plus, for the purposes of Sanctuary/Warehouse crossovers, it is less confusing than Helen/Helena. Though I do like Magnus, and Magnus alone, calling her 'Helena'. (I am also partial to "Magnus" as opposed to "Helen" so there you go.)

2. I am the worlds worst updater, but this fic has been floating around in my head for so long. It was never intended to be particularly graphic. It was always going to be more subtle, I hope that wont disappoint. I do adore HG too, be patient with her, she isn't a spiteful as she appears, she is just a little lost.

3. Thankyou for all the people who have taken time to read and leave feedback here on on LJ, You guys are awesome, and it means the world. Comments are love.

Xo CC.

Chapter 3

Helen is more than a little stunned by the request.

"Well?" HG prompts her, "Do I have your word?"

"You just cautioned me about making promises I can't keep." Helen responds.

"I see, I suppose you'd rather see them haul me away, back to eternal torment." HG is behaving like a petulant child, and yet Magnus looks deeper. Sees the fear, the pain. Understand better than anyone how time and loneliness can magnify ever horrific thing.

"It won't come to that." Magnus assures the other woman, not quite able to meet her in the eye. Silently she answers inside her head, No, Helena, that isn't what I want at all.

"Going to keep me safe, are you Helen?" Comes the bitter challenge from HG Wells.

"I told you, You can stay here as long as you need. Don't make me say it again."

"They will find me." HG whispers those four words so softly that Magnus isn't certain she even heard them.

"That's a rather negative outlook. A defeatist attitude. Certainly not the Helena I remember."

"That person you remember died a long time ago." HG asserts. She stands to her feet, pacing the room. HG Wells felt much better to be moving. Better by far than the eerie stillness of bronzing. Or the discomfort of sitting under the scrutinising gaze of Helen Magnus.

HG casts her eyes over the photographs on the fireplace. At least a dozen pictures of the young blonde girl. The girl with those unmistakable Magnus eyes. She reaches forward, picking one of the picture frames up in her hands. A picture of the girl, and Magnus. But not the Magnus standing in front of her now. The photograph depicts a happier person. Someone more...alive. She hears Helen Magnus draw in a sharp breath, but she says nothing.

"Your daughter." HG Wells states rather than asks.

"Ashley." Magnus answers her in a hollow, heartbroken voice.

"She's lovely." HG comments.

"She is." Magnus agrees.

"So, Helen Magnus has a daughter?"

"Had." Comes the pained answer.

"I'm sorry." HG tells the other woman, sincerity and empathy in her tone. Though she can't bring herself to make eye contact. Her own pain is still so raw over losing Christina.

"I can't tell, from these photographs..." HG begins, and she turns from the picture to the real life woman standing before her. She studies her face. How long ago was this picture taken? It was impossible to tell. "You don't look a day older than when we last met."

"I might say the same about you, Helena."

"The agony in your eyes is fresh, as if it was yesterday. But it always will be, i'm sorry to tell you. Even one hundred years does nothing to lessen the pain."

"It was six months ago." Magnus answers, abruptly snatching the photograph back and tightening her grip around it.

"I am sorry, Helen. What happened to her?" It's concern in her voice, mingled with a little curiosity perhaps. But HG Wells isn't deliberately trying to cause the other woman pain.

"She's gone, that's all. She's not here any more. I don't have any other explanation."

"Tears your heart out, doesn't it, Helen? You want to keep them safe, more than anything. That's what you want, that's your job, your purpose. But you can't do it. You would give your own life for hers, but you can't. I'm sorry about your daughter. More sorry than words could ever express. I don't wish that kind of pain on anyone. But maybe now you see, maybe now you understand. Maybe now you wont be so hasty to cast judgement on me, to tell me what a terrible person I was. What a terrible mother."

"I never said that to you." Magnus answers. "Ever."

"True. You never said it, no. Other people said it. Not Helen Magnus. Helen Magnus didn't have to say it. It was written all over her face. Every time she looked at me. Judgement. Blame. Disgust."

"I assure you, you are sorely mistaken, I thought nothing of the sort." Magnus answers with a twinge of irritation in her voice at having to defend herself.

"It matters little now. It was so long ago. Another life time. And fear not, I wont do the same to you. I'm sure you tried your best to protect your daughter. Everything in your power. I know you did. It's what a mother does. But, sometimes, that isn't enough. And you never forgive yourself for that, Helen. It never stops being wrong, to outlive your child. There is never a day you wouldn't do anything to change the past. Perhaps now you finally understand me a little better?" HG asks almost hopefully.

"I always understood you perfectly." Magnus asserts confidently. It's a blatant lie. HG perplexed her, exasperated her, surprised her at every turn. But she wont give HG the satisfaction of knowing that, convinced that she does derive satisfaction from it. "I hand picked you, I trained you, I taught you everything you know, crafted you in my own image. I understand you better than you would like to believe, dear girl."

"Is that the way you really see it, Helen? That you picked me, that you moulded me in your image? I find that amusing."

"Is that so?" Magnus asks absent-mindedly.

"Indeed it is. So , Helen, I'm curious to know just how you promise to keep me safe. Me, who you despise..."

"I don't despise you, Helena." Magnus interrupts involuntarily. She isn't certain that it matters anymore. Nor does she wish to spend one more second of her time explaining herself and her actions to HG Wells. The words just slipped out. And Magnus is irritated that she let it happen. Irritated she gave HG the satisfaction. Helen Magnus has to bite her tongue to keep from saying 'I don't despise you, Helena. Far from it.'

"...When you couldn't even keep your own beloved daughter safe." It's not a malicious accusation from HG, it's a simple statement of fact.

The words sting, they slice right through Helen Magnus. But she can not bring herself to be angry at the other woman for speaking the truth. Not when her own suffocating insidious guilt is pressing down upon her so heavily, eating her alive. As it turns out, she doesn't have to be angry, anyway.

"How dare you?" Comes the booming voice from the doorway as Will announces his presence.

HG is far from intimidated though, which Magnus finds understandable.

"Well hello there little boy." She greets Will, before turning her gaze to Magnus, amused "Is this your boy toy, Helen? He doesn't seem your type."

Choosing not to dignify that with an answer, Magnus says nothing. And there stands Will Zimmerman, sweet and young and full or life, defending her.

"Will, We have company." Magnus informs him.

"Pleased to meet you, I'm HG Wells." Helena had always taken delight in proclaiming her name. Magnus found it strange, and a little endearing, that the woman chose to use her initials to refer to herself rather than her name.

Will response is a snort of laughter. "HG Wells? Very funny." He answers her.

HG joins in his laughter, turning to Helen. "Oh dear, is this your latest protege? What are you teaching the poor boy?" With her outstretched finger she beckons Will closer. "Boy, come here. You have a lot to learn. I know this because I once sat at the feet of this great woman, and learned all I know from her. Many decades before you were born, of course."

"HG Wells?" He repeats in disbelief.

"Yes, Will." Magnus answers. "I believe I mentioned on a previous occasion that HG Wells and were..." Magnus chooses the word carefully, trying hard to remember just what she had shared with Will. There were things best left private, and she wasn't big on sharing intimate details about her life, but sometimes it was just irresistible, the look on his face. At least it had been, before she lost Ashley, back when she still had the capacity to find amusement in such things. She clears her throat "I believe I mentioned that HG Wells and I were... acquainted...back in the day."

"I assumed you meant Herbert George Wells..."

HG waves a hand dismissively "There is no such person. The man posing as Herbert was my idiot brother Charles, long dead now of course. He couldn't string a cohesive sentence together if his life depended on it. Reminds me a little of you, boy, come to think of it." HG muses.

"And so you are HG Wells, the famous author from over a century ago?"

"I am." HG answers proudly, a gleam in her eyes. Something Magnus hadn't seen there for a long time. Something carefree, unspoiled. "Are you familiar with my work? Or is it too much to suppose you can read?"

"HG Wells is a woman?" Will asks incredulously.

"Yes, don't act so surprised. Many great people of the world happen to be woman. It wasn't accepted back then, of course. Hence my idiot brother posing in my place."

"So you expect me to believe you are HG Wells, the HG Wells? From over a hundred years ago?" Will asks in disbelief.

"Helen, where did you find this boy?" HG asks. It's an echoing of Ashley's words upon her first meeting with Will, and it stings Helen fiercely. It makes her hate HG Wells all over again in that moment, just for being here, being alive, when Ashley is not.

"Yes Will, This is HG Wells, famous author, my former protege." Magnus explains wearily.

"Uhm...excuse me, but doesn't that make you...Pretty old?" Will can't help but ask.

"Born in 1866, I suppose that might make me old by your standards." HG concedes. "You're not familiar with my books at all then, are you?" HG asks.

"I'm to believe you have some sort of time machine?" Will wants to know.

"Because that notion seems to unbelievable to you?" HG scoffs "Take a look at your beloved mentor. You don't believe it's possible to bend the realm of time?" HG demands.

"That's a little bit different." Will argues.

"Cheating time, cheating death, it's all the same thing." HG shrugs. "And let me tell you, it's not all it's cracked up to be. Is is, Helen?"

"Will, leave us." Magnus instructs.

"No, wait a minute." Will protests. "I don't care who you are, or how old you are, you can not come in here and start saying things about Ashley."

"Will." Magnus warns him, in her sternest voice. "Go."

Will wavers in hesitation.

"How sweet, the boy wants to protect you from big bad HG Wells." HG smiles to herself.

"Will, please. Leave." Magnus is almost pleading not. Almost, not quite. Because Helen Magnus does not really do 'pleading'.

After Will has reluctantly left the room, Magnus motions to the sofa. "Sit." She invites HG Wells. Although it's more of a demand.

HG complies with the request. Magnus continues. "You are welcome to stay here. And I will do everything in my power to help you. God knows it's more than you deserve. But you are not, under any circumstances, permitted to speak to me about my daughter. Is that clear?"

"Touched a nerve, have I?" HG asks with a glimmer in her eyes. It's not a glimmer of evil, or hatred, or resentment, or anything of the sort. Magnus knows it. It's something dark, something born out of the other womans own anguish. It's something almost child like, almost innocent, almost afraid. Something almost making Magnus want to reach out and embrace HG Wells. But there is still more than a century of unresolved anger and pain between them. And, yes, HG Wells has touched a nerve. And Helen Magnus is struggling to maintain control, to maintain at least the pretence she has the upper hand. And so, it is not a reflex, the way Magnus reaches out, and slaps the other woman, hard, across the face. It's carefully thought out. Considered. Intended.

HG Wells does not look stricken in the least. She does not flinch. She does not waver. She speaks though, slowly, confidently. "By the way, Helen. 'Ashley' is a very interesting choice of name."