Helen paused, her attention caught by the shadowy figure looking back at her from the mirror.

The smooth surface of the glass shimmered in the moonlight, but it could not disguise her haggard appearance. Even in the dark, she looked pale, thin, and exhausted. It wasn't really unexpected—three days of no sunlight, less sleep, and only tea for sustenance would do that to anyone.

Even as she stood there, her limbs felt leaden, and her mind was foggy with sluggish thoughts.

Her bed beckoned, and she wasn't fully conscious of changing into her nightclothes before she fell onto it, barely able to pull a pillow towards her before her lids finally closed in blessed sleep.

Abby was all right.

Will could barely wrap his mind around it. One minute she was throwing herself off of towers and seizing on the operating table, the next she was sitting up and making jokes about "disaster-proofing" their relationship.

It was only just now starting to sink in, and as it settled, his earlier actions came rushing back in acute awareness—bringing waves of guilt flooding in with them. He'd been exhausted, worried, scared out of his damn mind… But that was no excuse.

And Magnus had come to him, as if to apologize for doing what it took to save Abby's life. The surgery shouldn't have happened, not the way it did, but it had worked. To apologize for that… She shouldn't have had to, and it was his fault she'd felt the need to mend the bridges he'd burned.

He really had burned them. He'd walked away from her, after she'd told him what he'd needed to hear. No thanks, no apologies, nothing. Just a silent exit that condemned her as clearly as if he'd screamed it in her face.

Which he had also done, earlier.

Jesus. What had he done?

He had to make it right.

His tap on the door to her personal rooms was light, and though he didn't hear a response, he could detect a rustle of movement issue from within. He carefully opened the door, letting himself in. The movement he'd heard inside turned out to be Henry, who was fiddling with a tray on one of the small tables that stood against the wall.

The tech looked up at his entrance, only for his features to harden at the sight of him.

Magnus wasn't the only one he'd pissed off in the past few days.

"Hey," he said lightly.

Henry turned away, his focus returning to the tray. "Hey."

Will crossed deeper into the room, trying not to seem too abrasive. "What're you doing here?"

"Leaving some food for the doc," came short response. "I dunno when she'll—"

"Is she here?" Will asked, cutting in abruptly. So much for not being abrasive. But he needed to see her, before he got caught up with anyone else.

Henry straightened, but didn't look at him. Instead he glanced towards one of the doors off to the side. He didn't say anything, but that quick look was all Will needed. She was in that room—was it a study? Will wasn't sure. He'd never been in here before.

"She's busy," Henry returned.

"I need to talk to her—"

"She's busy," he reiterated sharply. "Come back later."

"Look, it'll only take a minute, and then she can go back to whatever she's doing—" Then they can go back to normal. As normal as things ever were in this place.

"Will, stop—!"

But Will was already at the door Henry had unconsciously indicated, his hand on the knob, turning it before Henry could stop him. He rushed into the room, making as much headway as he could before Henry could catch up.

"Magnus, I—"

He froze.

The room was dark, but the four posts standing against the wall was unmistakeable. This was her bedroom. Not a private sitting room, or a study like he'd thought. And then he caught sight of the figure sprawled on top of the mattress, sleeping.

It was Magnus.

But not like any Magnus he had ever seen before. It was a long moment before he realized that the night gown she wore, which showed more skin than he ever thought he'd see in his lifetime, was really nothing more than her slip. Like she'd barely been able to get her dress off before falling asleep.

Her hair obscured her features, fluttering softly with each even breath she took. A pale, slender arm was curled around a long pillow, embracing it in her sleep. In the moonlight she looked so peaceful, so vulnerable, that all of a sudden he felt like a voyeur.

"Dude! I told you—" Henry stopped short, suddenly realizing the door was open. But he recovered quickly, wrapping a strong hand around Will's bicep and pulling him back out of the room. "What the hell?" he hissed.

"Henry—"

Will's protests ceased when he saw Magnus stir, and Henry froze at the sound of her voice. Her head lifted from the pillow, and a hand snaked out from under the pillow to push her upright. A jolt ran down his spine when he saw it was curled around a gun.

"Will?"

Her voice was husky with sleep, sensual.

Bolstered by her acknowledgement, Will took a step forward. "Magnus… I—"

"Get out."

All foggy sensuality was gone. Vanished, leaving nothing but a cold, hard edge in its wake.

"Magnus, please, just—"

"Get. Out. Of my bedchamber." She barely ground out the words, her voice scathing and bitter.

There was no room for debate. Henry turned in to growl at him. "You need to leave… right now."

Suddenly, Will didn't have the strength, or desire, to fight him.

"Henry." Magnus' voice cut through the dark. The tech turned, shameful and apologetic, to face her. "Go. Get some sleep."

For the HAP, her voice was tender, just enough to take the edge out of her words. It was enough to tell both men that her quarrel was not with her surrogate son. She knew it was not his fault her much-needed sleep had been interrupted.

Henry nodded, even in the dark. "Sure thing."

He obeyed, pulling Will out of the room with him. Will let himself be dragged, his desperation melting away into only more guilt. Of course she'd been sleeping. He'd seen her exhaustion before, but had only overlooked it in his concern for Abby. But now that Abby was safe those moments of observation seemed that much more poignant.

The bedroom door closed behind them, giving their boss the privacy she deserved. Back in the warm light of the sitting room, Henry shoved Will away from him, then stood stock still, staring at his friend with a mix of wary disbelief and angry indignation.

Will accepted the heavy stare silently, ready for whatever the HAP had to dish out. But in the end, Henry could only shake his head.

"I've been trying to think of when you became such a tool…" His words were disparaging, heavy with scorn. "And the sad thing is I can't even remember."

Will's eyes widened, then closed in a sigh. "Henry, I—"

"Save it for the doc," came the biting reply. "She's the one you need to apologize to. But I swear to god, if you—"

The threat cut off abruptly, his friend unable to put into words what he was afraid might happen. He didn't need to. Will understood.

"I'm not looking to make things worse, Henry."

"Yeah, well…" Henry's eyes were hard with distrust. "You just did."

Will was suddenly alone, standing in the middle of Magnus' private drawing room. Suddenly, the need to talk to Magnus wasn't so urgent. If he could take back his insistence before, he would, but that ship had sailed, along with every other regret he had. He could hear her moving around her bedroom, and knew that leaving now would only make things worse. He had to be here when she finally emerged.

And emerge she did, her movements brisk with anger as she closed the door behind her. Will thought she would only throw a robe on over her slip before coming to banish him, so that she could return to her bed as soon as he'd been chastised.

But to his surprise, she'd gotten fully dressed, in a fresh dress with her hair pulled hastily from her face by a toothed hair clip. She was ready for business, and his regret was compounded by a healthy dose of unease. She was formidable in the best of times—knowing that her anger was a direct result of his own actions only magnified that effect tenfold.

As soon as the door was closed behind her, she rounded on him, her eyes dark with anger.

"Does your self-centeredness know no bounds?"

She strode towards him, her steps powerful and deliberate, despite their pace.

Will took an involuntary step backwards, unconsciously trying to maintain the distance between them. "Magnus, look, I—"

"How dare you," she bit out forcefully. "How dare you barge into my private quarters in the middle of the night, after all you've done!"

It wasn't quite the middle of the night. It felt like it, between the exhaustion and winter's early sunsets, but it was only six o'clock or so. "After what I've done?"

"Yes!" came the swift rebuke. "You spoiled, selfish little boy!"

"Magnus—!"

"Did you honestly think you were the only one desperate to save Abby? That no one else could possibly care even an ounce of what you do? No one has gotten any rest in the past three days! Henry, Declan—even Gavin! All of us worked night and day to save Abby and find answers, and how do you thank them! With accusations and verbal attacks!"

"I'm going to apologize them too…" he placated, suddenly on the defensive. But she cut him off before he could finish.

"That is the very least you are going to do. We have all been willing to overlook a great deal, given the circumstances, but exhaustion only goes so far as a viable excuse—"

"Excuse me?"

"You accuse me of playing god when the answers don't please you, then regard me with disdain after all your prayers are answered… And then you have the audacity to storm into my bedchamber because you simply cannot live with your guilt until the morning."

"Magnus—"

"Don't say anything! You had nothing to say to me this afternoon, and you will continue to have nothing to say to me tonight. I have no interest in hearing your platitudes—the hollow words that you'll mean only until they no longer suit you. I simply haven't the energy to play along. So run along to your Abby—who is alive through no fault of your own."

"That's not fair!"

"Neither is the fact that while you have lost a great deal, I have lost a great deal more!" The air between them frizzled with tension as Weill froze. "Which is a fact you seem to remember only after your words do their damage!"

Will took a deep breath, giving him a moment to gather his temper. "I came here to apologize."

"Oh, yes, and most fervently too. It seems you'd realized that you have been acting like a petulant child. It's a shame your efforts to make amends only furthered that impression."

"But—"

"The world does not revolve around you, Doctor Zimmerman. Some of us have had the presence of mind to see that these past few days—and borne the brunt of your temper for it."

"I was scared out of my mind-!"

"And again, your ego has you believing that you were the only one in this house who was worried. Being terrified does not excuse the fact that you turned your back on the only people willing and able to help you."

Will bristled. "What are you talking about?"

"Correct if I'm wrong, but did you or did you not claim that I was so caught up in the creation of some never-before-seen creature that I was overlooking other options?" Will swallowed, suddenly recalling that scene in her office. "I assure you that the safety of my Sanctuary—and its allies—has always been, and always will be, paramount. Clearly, you have forgotten that I have lost my entire family to that cause."

Will stared, his stomach falling out from under him. "Magnus, I—"

"Of course, I must have overlooked options the instance of my daughter's death as well, given my cold-hearted disposition."

"I didn't mean that—"

"Didn't you?" Her voice was suddenly calm, as though at peace now that Ashley's loss had been given voice once again. It was then that Will realized that was what must have been truly bothering it. Everything was merely icing on the cake.

"And now you've gotten what you wanted—your lover alive and well, out of danger, and affirmation that you are fulfilling my every hope and dream as a protégé."

Somewhere, deep inside, he wondered if her words that afternoon had been just that—what he'd wanted to hear. Magnus had never been one for false praise, but… Did he even know her well enough now to know that?

"And still it isn't enough for you to consider anyone but yourself," she continued. "You invite yourself into my personal chambers to make amends for something you still don't think you were in the wrong for. You simply want things cleaned up, put nicely away into neat little boxes."

"That's not—"

"Indeed it is not," she affirmed. Her eyes glittered in the lamplight. "It will not be so tidy. Not this time. You might be ready to apologize, but I'm not ready to hear it. Perhaps you can try again after I've been able to sleep for the first time in days, when the sun is actually above the horizon—"

There was a knock on the door, silencing the both of them. Two pairs of eyes flew to the door, which opened to reveal a tentative Declan. Will stared at him, grateful for the reprieve, however embarrassing the fact that someone else bore witness to Magnus tearing him a new one.

"We heard shouting," the British Head of House delivered carefully, his gaze shifting back and forth between the two of them. "Is everything all right?"

Will looked to Magnus, whose gaze didn't waver from the other Head of House. "Yes, quite." Her tone implied otherwise, and Will knew Declan heard it. But the man was wise enough to mention it. "Sorry if we disturbed you."

Declan shook his head. "I was coming to find you anyway," he said. "I was reluctant to wake you, but… the hybrid."

So apparently the entire House had known Magnus had gone to find some rest. He'd been the only one to remain oblivious. But the mention of the parasite put his hair on end.

"Yes?" Magnus asked curtly. "What's happened?"

"It's… not doing well. We think it may be dying."

"Let it."

Will's voice cut through the air like a knife, his unforgiving tone earning him a wide-eyed look from Declan and a hard glare from Magnus.

"You may currently be my protégé, William," she delivered forcefully, "but luckily you are not head of this House just yet."

"That thing almost killed Abby!"

"That creature is no longer a threat to anyone," Magnus countered, "and therefore should no longer be in your crosshairs." Her back was ramrod straight, formal and disciplinary. "If you cannot keep this organization's motto in mind, then you will be excused from this facility until you can."

Will kept his tongue in his head, and tried to ignore the look of shock on Declan's face. He was no stranger to Magnus being short, but she usually humored Will to the point that it was jolting to hear her be so short with her protégé.

She turned back to Declan. "There may be something about its metabolism we missed. Meet me in the labs—I'll be there shortly."

Declan murmured an affirmative and disappeared, closing the door behind him and leaving the two of them alone once more. Magnus turned to him, her ices as cold as ice.

"Go to Abby," she instructed, all humor long gone. "Stay with her, away from my labs. Do not come to me, do not speak to me. I do not want to see or hear from you for forty-eight hours. Then, in the event that I can stomach the sight of you… Then we will talk."

And with that, she waited silently, clearly waiting for him to leave before her. A few months ago she wouldn't have thought twice about letting him linger in her chambers alone—now, though, she clearly didn't trust him enough to turn her back.

Will hesitated for only a moment, before he decided to quit while he was ahead. He turned on his heel and left the room. He didn't turn as the click of her heels followed him, or the door closed behind her, or her footsteps faded in the opposite direction, heading towards her lab.

He didn't stop until he stood in the doorway to Abby's room, watching her sleep. She was all right. She'd be all right.

It was only just now that he realized he might have paid a vicious price for it.