Cuddle Monkey

Posted originally on the Archive of Our Own at http://archiveofourown.org/works/5766313.

Rating:

Teen And Up Audiences

Archive Warning:

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Category:

F/M

Fandom:

Sanctuary (TV)

Relationship:

Helen Magnus/Will Zimmerman

Characters:

Helen Magnus, Will Zimmerman

Additional Tags:

Drabble Collection, Episode Tag

Language:

English

Stats:

Published: 2016-01-19 Updated: 2023-12-18 Words: 10,088 Chapters: 8/?

Cuddle Monkey

by Imzadi83

Summary

A collection of Will/Helen drabbles post various episodes.

Notes

This is my first foray into Sanctuary fiction. I may have come into the fandom late but am no less enthused. This was meant only to be drabbles of them cuddling (hence the title) but as turned into a bit more so it will not likely have that each chapter. Still I hope my little drabbles entertain you, and I thank you for stopping by.

Requiem

It started after the submarine incident, or rather the worst part of it, as they were still on the submarine, Drs. Helen Magnus & Will Zimmerman. She was still lying on the floor with him crouched down beside her, his head on her shoulder as she stroked his hair softly, unable to do anything else to comfort him. Perhaps it should seem that the responsibility was unbalanced in that, after all she was the one who had died and had to be resuscitated. However she had lived long enough to know that while she would win the award for most physical pain suffered today, Will would be taking home the award for emotional pain. There was really no comparison, both of them had suffered today, but she had been through horrible times like today far more than he had. So though others might find it strange, her being the one to comfort him, she didn’t. In fact his warm face on her cold shoulder comforted her just as much, after all she had almost killed him today too. Would have, if he hadn’t killed her first. And though she would’ve had to learn to live with it, it wouldn’t have been easy. Will was special, in general and to her, though she wouldn’t admit it to him, not yet anyway.

“Pick me up Will.” she said with a sigh. She was normally a gentle soul, not one to bark her orders or requests, but she was tired, cold, and didn’t have the strength for softness right now. She expected him to merely help her to sit upright, but he took her request literally and scooped her up in his arms. He didn’t make any attempt to hide that he found her weight burdensome and she couldn’t blame him, he must have been exhausted as well. He may have gone through Quantico, but she didn’t think he kept up his fighting skills. Likely he hadn’t needed them much in the past, but in their line of work she made a mental note to make him schedule some training time with Ashley.

He laid her down in the bottom bunk and she pulled at him, refusing to let him go. She almost killed him, her promising protégé, and in that moment she allowed herself to give into the fear the situation had caused her on that account.

“Magnus.” he protested, not even sure what he was protesting. He is a gentlemen, and sometimes she thinks he would have been better suited to her time than his. She wondered what different turns her life would have taken if she had known him then. Would he still look at her with such wonder, if she didn’t have such stories to tell?

“Lay down with me William.” She says it firmly, too much like a command to her liking, but he didn’t protest and squeezed in beside her on the bunk. She shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be allowing this. It’s unprofessional, but than so little of what she has done recently has been. The bunk is too small for him to scoot down and lay his head back on her shoulder, as he seems to want to do. Instead he settles for laying snuggled up against her side, his face resting against the side of hers. His breath is warm against her cheek and down her neck as it escapes his lungs, and she follows it’s rhythm until she is asleep. He follows her soon after.

Later, when they wake, still damp from the water, she will sit on the edge of the bunk and think thoughts she knows she shouldn’t. She is grooming Will to take over, to be her successor, not her partner; but as she feels Will’s hand rub along her back, turns her head to see the longing in his eyes over her shoulder she will realize that that may not be what Will wants. She will wonder if she will come to care enough about that to change her mind.

She doesn’t think so.

Losses and Gains

Chapter Summary

She says nothing, doesn’t even make eye contact as she brushes past him into the room. He thinks she might speak to him, until he hears the rustle of sheets and he remembers that there are no words worth speaking right now.

Chapter Notes

Set after "End of Nights pt 2". Will's POV.

They could argue that they won against the cabal. Or at least they defended their home. No one is arguing that of course. Tesla isn’t even gloating about the success of his weapon. So many people are dead, so much work destroyed. Not that Will or Magnus care about that. They both know, without speaking, where the thoughts of the other lie. Ashley and Clara. Both died heroes, and both left behind people who couldn’t care less about that fact. Both are thinking that they did something wrong, didn’t love them enough while they had them.

Will knows it’s Magnus at his door before he even gets out of bed to answer the knock. Magnus is in her pajamas, it’s late and her hair is mused from her futile attempts to sleep. She says nothing, doesn’t even make eye contact as she brushes past him into the room. He thinks she might speak to him, until he hears the rustle of sheets and he remembers that there are no words worth speaking right now.

She lays on her back on one side of the bed and he does the same on the other. He expects her to cuddle up next to him, or to do something to indicate that she wants to be either the big or little spoon but she just lays there, staring up at the ceiling in the darkness. He half expects her to cry, but it’s Magnus, and her breathing is eerily even. He thinks that they might lay awake like this all night, and it’ll mean something more to the both of them then sleeping side by side but the sound of her steady breathing and the scent of her that wafts over to him soothes him enough that he can start to feel himself drift off. His last thoughts are that he should really try to be a gentleman and stay on his side of the bed, even if one could argue that she was less than a lady for crawling in with him in the first place.

Of course his best laid plans always seem to go awry. He dreams of Clara as he dozes. He thinks that he should have loved her more, done something more, but he doesn’t know what. He thinks, most of all, that he shouldn’t have been with her at all, if he hadn‘t she might have evacuated with the others, and lived. He seems to attract women that want to give everything of themselves for him when he knows in his heart he is unworthy. He shouldn’t be so unkind as to do this to them, he really does not want to be the kind of man this makes him, but he can’t stand being alone, sleeping alone.

It’s then that his brain once again registers Magnus beside him and as he half wakes and realizes she’s still not sleeping he gives into his need to be close and rolls over to snuggle at her side. His head on her shoulder, she sighs and reaches out to stroke his hair as she did that day on the submarine. It’s not fair, once again his relationship with a woman is unbalanced, not to mention it once again puts Magnus in the maternal position in their relationship which just makes him feel dirty in ways he thinks he’ll take to his grave. Still, he can’t help but feel satisfied with himself when he hears Magnus’ breathing slow and feels her hand in his hair doing the same. He hadn’t expected that she would be able to sleep for a long while after…and he is glad he can do this for her. He thinks as he drifts off with her that perhaps, for a few blissful moments, they can both find peace.

End of the World

Chapter Summary

Set after "Pavor Nocturnus" Magnus' POV

Helen Magnus would have been lying if she said that the very thought of Will with Kate hadn’t devastated her more than finding out she’d woken up in the middle of an apocalypse. He doesn’t acknowledge it at first, and she’s more than glad not to press. But she knows, of course she knows, and it breaks her heart in a way she hadn’t expected. It’s just a fantasy, her and Will, but the death of that is painful all the same.

At first when he tells her that he had a child with Kate the first emotion she feels is jealousy. She is jealous of the family unit they had, without her. Irrational, she knows. After all she had been long dead in this timeline, likely she died before he and Kate even became a couple. She won’t think that they ’got together’, that is too American and feels too detailed.

The truth is that she loves Will. Not in the clear way she had felt with past romances, protégés, or even those she loved like surrogate children. Her feelings surrounding Will are complicated and best left to the dark private recesses of her mind. She is of course, flattered, to learn that their son was named after her. It’s more than just an honor, it feels like a connection, like a sign of some kind of love. He wanted to take her with him into the future. To be sure that she was not forgotten to the annals of time. That means more to her than she thought she’d ever receive from him. And that he would trust her to raise his son, touches her heart and makes her want to live on. Something that she didn’t think possible.

She is glad though when it doesn’t come to that, when she is able to prevent the apocalypse from happening in the first place. Though she will forever wonder what Will’s child would have looked like, and what it would have been like to raise him in such a world. Her heart is warmed to see Will, her Will, untainted by the horror she has just witnessed standing in her office beaming at her in that way, both innocent and wise that only he can.

Standing at the window, they are both silent for a long time while she debates what, if anything, to tell him.

“I had a dream while I was gone. That you had a son, that you named him after me.” He looks at her briefly, then turns back to the window. Most people would respond right away, determine what she wants to hear and then tell her that. Will is different however, thoughtful, and she appreciates that more then all the platitudes he could offer her.

“Magnus Magnus though? Don’t you’d think he’d get teased for that?” he says, blind to what he has really just said, how he just admitted that when he thinks about having a child the first thing he thought of was having it with her.

They look at each other, she grins broadly, and she can see his confusion on why he made her smile. She could call him on it, tease him about it, but she won’t. For all she knows it could be a fragile thread of an idea flittering in his mind, and she won’t risk snapping it.

“Perhaps I’m a traditionalist, but I was assuming he’d be a Zimmerman.” He smiles at that, a cheeky, shy kind of smile, and she feels as if she’s has just given him a gift. She wonders if the only scenario of having a child in his mind comes from the idea that she would one day ask him for sperm. She sighs, and decides not to go down that road. Still, she wonders what he is thinking.

“I always imagined you naming a son after your father.” he says.

“Yes, well, I suppose I would.” They stand in silence for a while longer. She wants to be with him, to spend the day simply basking in the joy of having him alive and safe at her side, but there is far to much work to catch up on to take a holiday.

“What are your plans for the evening?” She asks, and he turns his head and raises an eyebrow at her, the look on his face one of worry. She chuckles at that and smiles. “Nothing like that. I thought we might spend some time together, not working.” She wants to add that she’s missed him, but that still feels like a step too far across the line.

“Alright,” he replies, his eyes lighting up in an eager way that fills her with warmth. “what did you have in mind?” She had nothing in mind really, had not thought of asking until this very moment, and her brain scrambles to come up with something. It needs to be benign, innocent, nothing that could be construed as a date.

“I have a movie I’ve been meaning to watch, I’d enjoy having some company.”

“I’ll make the popcorn.” She smiles and reaches out to squeeze his bicep before turning to leave. He lets his arm follow her, holding onto her touch as long as he can, but he drops it away before their fingers touch.

After Midnight

Chapter Summary

Set after "Fragments"

She doesn’t go to his room, there’s no point, she knows he’s not there. She doesn’t keep track of when the others are scheduled to do the 2am feedings, but she does keep track of Will’s schedule. It gives her piece of mind knowing where he is. She tells herself it’s because, despite how long it’s been, he’s new. It’s a lie of course, and not a very good one even by her own placating standards.

She wants to talk to him, say something to him. She isn’t sure what exactly, but her conversation with Henry left her raw and the broken look on his face had haunted her for the rest of the day. Even while she was saying what she said, she couldn’t help but think of herself and Will. What is happening between them. Part of her thinks she should just put an end to it, just stop, but she doesn’t know how to stop something that has never officially begun and there is no label for. She considers too that she can’t stop, even if she really wanted to, which she doesn’t. She is a moth to Will’s flame or he is the moth to hers. Perhaps both, perhaps that’s the problem. They are each other’s drug, each other’s guilty pleasure. But this…whatever it is that they have is far beyond the realm of a joint or a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough. What they are doing is dangerous, even more so that the more solidified dangers they face every day.

She finds him in the enclosure of giganteum hierocera cattus. Giant moths as big as small terriers and with behavior akin to housecats. They were a reemergence from holdover DNA from the time when large insects were the norm. They required higher concentrations of atmospheric oxygen as did the flora that make up their habitat. Deep in the rainforest they had clung to life before a Sanctuary led expiration was pointed in their direction by concerned natives who did not want to see the creatures, sacred to their tribe, die out. So the Sanctuary took them and as much of their habitat that was possible before it was mowed down by the logging company that was due to come through.

She observes Will in the enclosure, an humid habitat right out of a primeval nightmare. There is something innately frightening about the look of the enclosure, causing most newcomers to be hesitant about stepping up to the glass, let alone stepping foot inside. She hadn’t been there to see Will’s first reaction to it, but she imagined it was much the same. Most people take some reassurance before going inside. Short of the type of accidents you could have in any forest type setting though there is no danger here. The moths are docile and harmless, kept inside for their own safety and because there is no where in the world where they would be safe and thrive otherwise. They have life spans of two to three years, and meticulously slow reproduction rates and requirements. Because of that they are fragile and extinct outside of the Sanctuary Network. If it wasn’t for their need for a particular climate they would actually make nice pets. Ashley had spent a lot of time with them as a child, having each one named and mourned over when they died.

She joins him in the enclosure. He is filling one of the feeders, one of the moths perched on his shoulder. It’s antenna are twitching like cat whiskers and it’s proboscis is reaching out as far as it can to get at the food Will is spooning into the feeder

“Here you go little guy.” he says, holding the spoon back closer to it so it can reach. There is a sense of wonder on his face, at spoon feeding such a creature, until the moth wraps it’s proboscis around the spoon and snatches it out of Will’s hand and shoves it into his own mouth faster than Will can stop it.

“Oh no, oh God.” he starts with a panic, his face turning from awe to horror. No doubt he thinks he’s doomed the poor thing to death by choking. Helen starts to laugh hysterically at the sight, her hand coming up to her mouth in an futile effort to stop herself.

“It’s not funny.” he says, finally noticing her presence behind him. “How do you do the Heimlich on a moth? Should we get it into surgery?” He’s dead serious of course, and though she should praise his dedication and compassion she just can’t stop laughing.

“Magnus!” Before she can tell him it will be alright the creature coughs up the spoon with a disgusted squeak and flies off.

“Really Will, it’s fine. Happens quite frequently I assure you.” He looks embarrassed now and she takes pity on him, coming over to rest her hand on his shoulder.

“Someone could’ve warned me.”

“Now now, where would the fun be in that?” He gave her a slight glare, though she knew he wasn’t really angry, and he smiled at her when she joined him and helped with the rest of the feedings. They worked in silence for awhile as they went from enclosure to enclosure before Will seemed to tire of it, or perhaps the churnings of the wheels in his head simply became too loud to ignore.

“You okay?”

“No.” She admitted with a sigh, knowing there was no use in lying to him. And truthfully it wasn’t something she wanted to do to him anyway. She had promised honesty and she didn’t want to break it. But she was, in her heart she knew she was lying to him, by omission if nothing else.

“No?”

“Just thinking about Henry I suppose.” Will nodded and she saw he had that lost look about him now. The one that said he was far wiser than his years. She supposed some of it was his training. She had taken courses and attended lectures on psychology, from some of the pioneers in the field no less. Still she never had been able to understand people the way Will did.

“They’re both feeling a lot of guilt right now.” Now it was his turn to sigh. “What Gerald did isn’t on them, he made his own decisions. But relationships are not started or ended in a vacuum. And what they did or didn’t do is something they’re both going to have to learn to accept if they want to deal with it and move past it.” He sighs and she listens intently to the sound of his breathing as he pauses to think.

“Regardless of what may happen down the road, for now it might be better if they deal with their own feelings first. Especially Henry, he clearly still has some self-identity issues it might be best for him to deal with before he gets into any romantic relationship, regardless of who that’s with.”

“Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

“I usually am.” he teased. She smiled back at him but he could see she too was thinking. He turned back to the dishes they were finishing stacking in the industrial sized dishwasher. It wasn’t really a two person job and he could see her hesitating.

“I’ll think I’ll head up to bed.”

“Goodnight Magnus.” She almost made it out of the room, almost, but the memory of Henry’s love sick expression stopped her and she turned around. She watched Will’s back as he worked, though of all the things that could go wrong, all the ways that she could lose him, and spoke.

“You’ll come up? After you’ve finished?” He turned around and looked at her for a long tense moment. She knew he was going through the meanings that could be attributed to her words. She could say more, but the more blatant invitation to sleep in her bed stuck in her throat. It was crass and would only serve to remind her how wrong this all was, and she didn’t want to think about that tonight. She just wanted to fall asleep with his head on her shoulder after a long difficult day.

“Yeah, okay. I’ll just…grab some pajamas and come up?” She knew he was asking, checking, she had never invited him into her bed before and she knew that he didn’t want to misstep.

“Good, I’ll leave my doors unlocked, lock them on your way in would you.”

“Sure, or course.” she smiled at him and turned to leave. It would be chaos down the road of course, but tonight she would sleep in peace.

One A Day

Chapter Summary

Set after "Veritas"

Will continued to stand there while Kate joked around with Magnus. He felt awkward, it was awkward. Their boss put an abnormal bug in her head, faked a murder, and risked her life, all to catch a criminal telepath. Helen Magnus, a one woman detective agency. To be fair it was a rather clever, if crazy, plan. Though he knew better then to tell her that. She was high enough on her own brilliance as it was, and besides, Kate was fawning enough for both of them.

When he had first met Magnus he could tell she was a brilliant scientist, but he had always had trouble reconciling the woman he knew with the mad scientist who’d injected herself with source blood and almost married Jack the Ripper. He could see it now though, and it kind of terrified him. It also kind of didn’t, which terrified him even more. What kind of man did that make him, aligning himself to a one hundred and fifty eight year old woman who was bat shit crazy.

The conversation between Kate and Magnus started to lag after a time, and the looks between Magnus and himself gave Kate the hint that it was time to excuse herself. After she left they both stayed silent for a time, figuring out what to say. He could feel Magnus’ eyes on him, studying him, but as he couldn’t bring himself to meet them he studied her kimono instead. Busying himself with wondering if it was just an article of clothing or if it had a story behind it, he was so engrossed with making up his own story that it took him a moment to realize she had even broken the silence.

“Would you like your free shot now?” she asked again with a teasing glint in her eyes. He didn’t get the joke though, and wrinkled his brow in confusion. She tapped her chin in clarification. “Right in the kisser. It’s only fair don’t you think? I got in my free shot today. One a day wasn‘t it?” It was dark humor that on another day might have made him chuckle. Not today.

“Magnus.” He said firmly, his voice tight and tired. She sighed and looked for the first time apologetic. It was what he needed from her and he felt his frustration and anger start to drain out of him. She was still her, after all.

“Magnus I thought…I thought…”

“That our occasional cuddles were a symptom of my cognitive deterioration?” He sighed, he hadn’t been thinking that, not at this particular moment anyway. At this moment he was still being haunted by the memory of her unconscious and seizing on the gurney. But the other thing…yes, he had thought it, and since she had brought it up they might as well deal with it.

“Do you have to call it that, your accent makes it sound so…dirty.” She laughed at that and he was glad for the sound. He had feared he’d never hear her laugh again, never wrap his arms around her again.

“Would it be less so if I used the word ‘snuggle’?” she said, biting her bottom lip and thrusting up her chin in that innocent way she somehow still managed even after all these years. He could imaging her younger when she did this. Imagine her at Oxford, strolling around the campus; eager, bright, and untainted by time. He would have liked to have known her then, when there was a chance to be equals. It was unlikely that she would’ve ever loved him, not with all the more brilliant men dogging her steps, but they could’ve been friends. There would’ve been less tension. And he could’ve reached out to touch her without worry, laid his head on her shoulder after a hard day. Then again maybe not, it was the Victorian era after all, but it was fun to dream.

“No,” he said, laughing himself now. “I think not.”

“What would you call it then?” she asked, tilting her head. He noticed the glint in her eyes, her tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. He wondered if she was still feeling the effects of the ozone beetle or if she was simply high on her own brilliant success. He wondered how long it would be before she came up with another cockamamie plan that put him through the wringer, again. All of a sudden he felt very tired. It must have shown on his face because he saw hers soften. She scooted over on the gurney as much as she could and pulled back the rough hospital blanket, inviting him in. He looked around guiltily, not sure if he cared about what someone walking in would think about him or her, but in the end he toed off his shoes and carefully crawled in beside her. He snuggled down against her side and buried his face in the crook of her neck. He took a deep breath and reveled in the scent of her skin, sighing contently. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair. He loved that feeling, the softness of her fingers with the sharpness of her nails digging into his scalp. Soft and sharp, that was who Helen Magnus was, more extreme then he had imagined perhaps, but Magnus all the same.

“It broke my heart when you didn’t trust me.” he confessed, his lips tickling the skin above her pulse.

“I wasn’t myself. And I do trust you, completely. If I hadn’t I wouldn’t have been able to go through with the plan. It was all you.” She wasn’t lying, without Will the plan would not have worked. He was the key. To a lot of things, if she was honest. He made her concurrently vulnerable and untouchable. It had been so confusing in her head, the high and the low of the psychotic influence of the beetle. She had wanted him and pushed away from him all at the same time, thoughts and actions unable to reconcile themselves. There had been no lonelier place then the feeling that Will had abandoned her.

Magnus felt Will’s body relax against her side as he started drifting off to sleep. He must’ve been so tired. She felt bad for what she put him through. She didn’t regret what she did, it worked after all, but that scientific-ageless detachment was hard to maintain where Will was concerned. He cared, he got attached, and there was something about him that drug her down with him. Sinking, as they had been back in the Nautilus. If recent events showed her anything however it was that she was in danger of drowning him. She would have to stop. This would have to stop.

Anyday

Chapter Summary

Set after "Next Tuesday"

They floated in the fading light, both clinging to a singed case to give their arms a rest. They are close enough to each other that the cases occasionally bump, making a plastic sort of ringing sound that echoes in the hollow of the oil well. Their arms were folded, heads resting on their arms, and Magnus thought Will might be asleep until he looked up at her. She is always amazed by how much innocence lives in his eyes. It’s probably the only thing that stops her from doing something very, very foolish.

“Can we talk about it?” He asks, and she thinks he might mean Ashley, or perhaps her inability to ask for what she needs, but she isn’t sure. It could be that he’s asking why she’s not spent the night with him since that last one in the infirmary. He had asked her one night, if he could come up. She had been standing in the lab and he had been close enough behind her that she could feel his breath on her neck. It made her skin tingle and it was all she could do to say no. But she had said no, as firmly as she could, her jaw tightened lest she say any more. He hadn’t questioned it, accepted it in fact without complaint. But he had also stood there, seeing the tightness in her jaw, the avoidance in her eyes. And she had known that he was realizing that she didn’t just mean that night. He hadn’t asked again. Things had started to go down hill between them since. She had been having trouble sleeping, and she suspected he had as well.

“To what it are you referring?”

“Anything,” he shrugs, as much as he can in his awkward position. “it was an opening. I was hoping to get you to talk about whatever you needed to talk about.”

“One of your psychological tricks?” He frowns at her and she feels bad for insulting him. He really is a brilliant psychiatrist. But for some reason she always feels the need to be nasty when she’s defensive. She should probably talk to him about that, if anyone, but she doesn’t want to. Not today.

“There isn’t anymore to say. I’m sorry, for what it’s worth. I only wanted your company, I certainly never meant for all this to happen.”

“I’m not mad at you Magnus, I just…” he doesn’t bother finishing. He wanted her honesty and she couldn’t give it to him. She had intended to, when she had made that deal with him, but she had realized the longer they worked together the more she had to hide from him. It was funny in a way. She was more honest with him than with anyone, but not in the ways that mattered. Not in the ways that would make a difference. Regardless they’ve hashed this out before, and he doesn’t feel like doing it again. Not while they’re still stranded, also again.

“Tell me about Titanic, then.” he offers and she smiles at him. She shouldn’t, she thinks. It was a tragedy, and she was so very, very lucky. So many people died needlessly. If anyone else had asked her she would’ve reminded them of that fact, thought the question callous. But not Will, never Will.

“I didn’t make love with Leonardo DiCaprio in a car in the cargo hold, if that‘s what you’re wondering.” Will chuckled at that, but she could see the jealous glint in his eyes. There had been a lot of that going back and forth today. She could pass it off now, pretend that she wasn’t really jealous at all but what was the point in lying to herself? It certainly hadn’t been helping matters.

“So I guess there’s no naked sketch of you at the bottom of the Atlantic, waiting for someone to find it is there?”

“Sorry to disappoint.”

“Oh, that’s okay, it’s been that kind of a day.” that made her laugh. “Sad though…” she raised a curious eyebrow at him. Men were usually such simple creatures to understand. Will, not so much. Who was she to him? Mentor, Mother, potential lover? She was never sure and it always made her hesitate, lest she make a wrong move and push him away. “I could’ve made a fortune off that thing.” he finished, causing her to laugh heartily.

“Cheeky monkey.” she said with a smile though her expression soon dimmed. It caused him to backtrack, thinking he made a misstep.

“Sorry, if you don’t want to talk about it, I understand.”

“No, it’s alright. But I’m not sure what I can tell you about it that you don’t already know.”

“How was the food?”

“Cold.”

“Really?”

“Yes, the kitchen was dreadfully far from the first class dining room. Though people were used to eating cold food in those days I suppose.”

“Do you miss it?”

“Cold food?”

“No, first class.”

“It’s not like I’ve given it up. I do live in a castle after all.”

“No, I mean. Surrounding yourself with those first class people. The rest of us are not exactly the fancy type, hell, I bought you breakfast at McDonald’s this morning.”

“I like their hash browns.” She said almost defensively, as if he was really insulting her taste. “Will, really, we stayed at a five star hotel, if I wanted a five star breakfast I could’ve had it. I wanted to get out in the water as soon as possible to get Squiddly.” He smiles at her, as much because she is so amazingly down to earth as because she just called the vampire squid ‘Squiddly’ and didn’t realize it. For all he might complain and she might claim otherwise, she does give into him on a myriad of things. He hasn’t been spoiled in his life since his mother died, and he finds her nepotism to be soothing, and a far better prize then a cookie or a blue ribbon ever was.

“Whom we lost.” he says, dejectedly. He enjoys watching as she wrinkles her nose in frustration at that fact.

“I suppose, looking back, we might as well have gotten room service.”

“Yes, lets stop talking about food now, alright?” he says as his stomach growls.

“You brought it up.”

“I regret it.” He was quiet for a few moments, thinking, before he picks up the conversation. “What were you doing on it anyway?”

“I was on it to pick up a mermaid in Ireland who had been badly injured and was in need of permanent sanctuary because she could no longer live in the wild. I intended to take her to the New York Sanctuary which had just been renovated. I suppose I could have taken another ship but Titanic was supposed to be the fastest, everyone wanted a ticket. And I admit I wanted to see it.”

“So…Sally? The mermaid was our mermaid?”

“Uh huh.”

“I always wondered why she was with us.”

“It’s in her file, Will.”

“Yeah, I’m still catching up. I had to give priority to my patients. Sally’s never been interested in psychotherapy.

“You'll fine telepaths usually aren’t.”

“So I’ve noticed.” There were a few more minutes of silence before he spoke again. “I know it’s a wrong thing to think, but I can’t help but wish I could’ve been there.”

“I don’t know that it’s ‘wrong’ per se, ill advised perhaps. For what it’s worth though there’s a part of me that wishes you had been there. I knew some people onboard but it wasn’t the same as having a traveling companion.”

“Really?”

“Yes. You would’ve loved it, and I would’ve appreciated your company. I mean there were no beaches or mojitos, but the Turkish baths were lovely.”

“The Turkish baths huh, does that mean I can weasel a spa treatment out of you when we get back?”

“I don’t see why not. I think we’re both more than deserving of a little pampering.”

“A couple’s massage it is then.” He saw her frown and sighed. “Or not.”

“Will it’s just…”

“What?” he asked when she didn’t finish her thought. “I mean I get it, you’re trying to distance yourself from me. From whatever it is we were doing, but what I don’t get is why.” The idea that he might have done something wrong lingered in his mind, but he didn’t voice it.

“That’s the problem Will, I don’t know what we’re doing, let alone if we should be doing it.”

“We’re…cuddling, I guess.”

“You guess.”

“I mean I guess you could say we’re sleeping together, sort of. I don’t know Magnus, what does it matter what label we put on it. We’re human beings, seeking out physical contact with others in our social group is perfectly normal from an evolutionary perspective. True it’s not quote unquote ‘normal’ but we’ve already established that nothing in our life is. What we’ve been through together, what we go through. Is it so surprising or wrong that we take comfort in just being close to each other. The things we have to do, the trust we have to have, what’s wrong with wanting to be close to each other. To solidify our bond, if it helps us working together, and it isn’t hurting anyone?”

That was the big question though wasn’t it, was it hurting more then helping. In the long run she wasn’t sure. She didn’t want to let go of him, but she knew it was selfish to keep him to herself, which she was worried their co-sleeping arrangements were encouraging. Like letting a child sleep in their parents bed for too long, could it create a dangerous co-dependence between them. Had it already?

“A couple's massage it is then.” she agreed. He could read the look in her eyes, just that, nothing more. But he'd reach out from the table to clasp her fingers with his, in a sort of light hand hold. And she would let him. For a time.

Radiate

Chapter Summary

Set after "Penance"

She considered spying on him, while he swam with Sally, naked. It was only a consideration, and only for a moment, but the thought flittered through her mind none the less. She was only human after all. Mostly.

After her talk with Kate she had hoped to focus on work for a while. Missions led to paper work of which there was always an abundance. She was usually good at keeping on top of it, having had so much time not only to practice but to understand just how vital such things were not only for the active running of the Sanctuary but for future research as well. She didn't have an photographic memory, so she had to be able to find what she needed quickly and efficiently. And since one could never be sure what would be needed in the future everything was potentially valuable and had to be taken seriously. Even the dreaded budget reports. Tonight however she already knew she'd get nothing done so she skipped her office entirely. She felt tired and wired all at the same time. Will was fine. She'd cleared him to resume normal activity. There was some residual radiation, but nothing life threatening or even requiring hospitalization. So the one thing she wanted to do, dote on Will, wasn't possible.

The itch of wanting to be near him, to make up for the fear of almost losing him, was so unnerving went into his room, it was a terribly inappropriate breech of privacy, but she didn't plan on staying. She thought she just needed a moment to deal with the torrent of emotions she was feeling. To be near him, in a way. She picked up his discarded dress shirt on the bed and held it up to her face to breathe in his scent. It had been painful, seeing him in the clutches of a mob boss that could cook her beloved protégé from the inside out at any given moment. She'd felt so very helpless, not the least of which because she'd lived through the birth of the atomic age and the fear that everyone had lived with. As skilled a doctor as she was, there would've been little, perhaps even nothing, that she could have done to save him had he been exposed to more radiation then he had.

She laid down on the bed and tried to think of him safe, here. Remembering the times she had laid side by side with him, the peace of snuggling next to him. The weight of his head on her shoulder and the sensation of her fingers running through his hair. She dozed fitfully, though she stayed still curled up on the bed. It was obstinate and stupid, she might as well just stretch out and lay her head on the pillow. She didn't think Will would be mad if he found her here. Still she couldn't bring herself to do it, couldn't bring herself to make herself comfortable. She isn't sure what she could have done differently to prevent what happened today. She didn't think to blame Henry for not preventing the leak in the first place, didn't blame Will for getting ambushed. No, the only thing she thought, obsessed over, was that it she had chosen which direction they would each go in.

It was such a petty, small thing, which such great consequences. After all this time she thought she'd be use to it, but it still stung. And she felt bad for Jimmy. Or rather, she felt bad that she didn't feel worse for Jimmy. She meant what she'd said to Kate. About it probably feeling like a relief to him. Penance for his crimes. She had always been proud of the way he turned his life around, but she could tell it never was enough for him. She hoped that Kate's willingness to forgive him in the end was enough.

That made her think about her own end, and Will's and she dozed fitfully fighting back all the horrible what ifs her mind tried to conjure up. So much so she jumped when she felt the bed dip behind her and Will snuggle up behind her. She sleepily reaches to stroke the side of his head while he buries his face in her neck and breathes deeply. She's not sure what she smells like but she imagines it's better then the pervasive aquarium smell of the mermaid's tank. She thinks he should smell of seawater but he doesn't and it makes her brow crinkle. Her eyes have already slipped closed again and she hears him chuckle.

“I showered. And you know, you could've warned me a little more about Mermaid culture.”

“It's in the file.” she smirks, amused with herself, wishing for all the world she could've seen the look on his face. Before she drifts off again she swears she can feel him rolling his eyes at her.

Bad Day

Chapter Summary

Set after “Haunted” Title comes from a Fuel song of the same name.

Will isn't sure what to say, standing there, staring at the back of Magnus' head. Druitt gone, perhaps for good. Or not. It didn't matter. He left a lot of fallout in his wake none the less. He always did. Will knew he should go to check on the others, or check on the patients from the sinking; but he can't leave her just standing there.

He opens and closes his mouth several times wondering what to say. It wasn't like Hallmark made a card for this sort of thing. There was a lot of study done on serial killers. Even their victims got acknowledgment, their final hours being poured over and analyzed. But there were other, lesser known, lesser cared about victims that went unnoticed. Will could remember asking a professor at the academy what to say to a killer's family. There had been silence in the room and all eyes on him, the weird one, once again asking questions normal people never thought about. His professor had simply said that it wasn't their job beyond being respectful and moved the class along. But they were victims too. Of lies, betrayal, of mental illness that was so complex as to take over and ruin multiple lives. But those victims were ignored, lost to history even. No one had any sympathy left for them.

Any true crime fan familiar with the Ripper killings could rattle off the names of Druitt's victims like the ABCs, hell Will could too if asked, but how many knew of the pain of Magnus, Watson, or Ashley? Druitt's other victims. As much as Will knew about the case, even things that the murder groupies would never find out, he didn't know if Druitt had had siblings. Or if his parents were still alive during the White Chapel killings. Did any of them suspect? Did they know?

The fact that the reason behind Druitt's murderous rampage was reveled as an abnormal influence meant little to Will in the grand scheme of things, but he knew it meant everything to Magnus. And to reiterate that she had done the best she could with the information she'd had at the time was cold comfort. It all seems too complicated, so Will tries to break it down to the basic facts of what happened, and the core emotions Magnus might be feeling right now and deal with that.

First there is nothing at all. She might be numb, or in shock. Then there are the obvious emotions of grief, confusion, or even hope? Is there guilt for all the vitriolic hate that has been directed at Druitt which in the end may not be warranted? Guilt for not being able to find another solution and knowing Druitt whom she loved, perhaps even still loves, may have just condemned himself death? Or to a lifetime of torture and isolation to save her? To save all of them? In the end he didn't want to say the wrong thing so he decided to go with the safest option and simply call out to her.

“Helen.” he says it quietly, though it echos loudly in the empty lab. Her head snaps in his direction and she turns around and stares at him with a blank expression. Numb, most definitely.

“You've never called me that before.” It throws him for a second, but he has learned as a psychiatrist to think on the fly.

“No, I haven't.” He thinks it best not to apologize, not knowing if he should. They stare at each other for what seems like a long time, with Will searching for something in Magnus' eyes he can't seem to find. He half expects her to scold him.

“Go check on the others.” she orders, before rushing off. He thinks she's going to the infirmary, which is good enough for now he supposes. She was always good at triage.

The others are better off although that doesn't really surprise him. Shaken, it isn't like they aren't used to life threatening situations, but this is different and they know it. They're all worried about Magnus though nobody really says as much. The others will help as best they can, but no one really knows what to say and Will knows the bulk of dealing with Magnus will be left to him and the Big Guy. Will has never said it but he admires his furry friend's counseling abilities. For a guy who'd spent most of his life alone in the woods somewhere he was surprisingly good at relating to people. He has a heartfelt but no-nonsense kind of way when dealing with these sorts of things. Will has been told he can be a bit too distanced from his patients. Too clinical. The Big Guy always comes off as a friend. Will isn't sure he can make his patients feel that at ease. Plus he wasn't furry. People tend to find friendly furry animals therapeutic in and of themselves. Will once briefly considered getting a dog or something, but in the Sanctuary he's too afraid it would get loose, and end up eaten. Henry had told him a story about a tank of goldfish that made him cringe every time he thinks about it.

It takes him longer than he would like to finish checking in with the others. Everyone wants to share their story of the day and get his opinion on the events with Druitt. Usually he doesn't mind, but tonight he finds it grating on his nerves. They want easy answers and he just doesn't have them. And even though he knows Magnus isn't in any immediate danger, he doesn't realize how high his anxiety is until he feels it start to drain from his body when he is near her again tending to their new guests. He works side by side with her, not saying much. He can tell by the set of her shoulders when he walked in that she wasn't ready to break down yet. He could give her some more time. He feels bad for the empaths as he helps Magnus finish up their medical care and get them settled in to either the infirmary or the residential wing. It was bad enough for them to have to deal with the sinking, then the murder, he can't imagine that whatever emotions they pick up off Magnus are much better to top off the horrible day they've had.

Things eventually wind down on their own and she finally excuses herself and retreats to her room. He doesn't follow right after, wanting to give her some space. About an hour later the Big Guy comes to relieve him watching the critical patients.

“She won't answer.” he says. Will wasn't sure if it was a simple statement of fact or his way of tagging Will in but considering all he can think of was getting to her again he is just glad to leave. He just wants to be near her, even if there is nothing else he can do other then just be there. It was all anyone could do at this point. He grabs some things from the supply cabinet and heads up to, what he considers, as 'her' tower.

When he arrives at her door there is a tray of food outside. It wasn't the Big Guy's style to push where he isn't invited. Will doesn't have that luxury, Magnus has to be checked on as much as any critical patient. Maybe more so as her well being was critical to all of them. He has a master key card but is still slightly surprised when his code opens her door. He isn't sure what he will find, but the room is eerily quiet. He brings the tray of food inside, though he doesn't expect she will actually eat any of it. He briefly wonders if she is even here, perhaps she is holding vigil on her roof top perch, or digging with tear stained cheeks through boxes of memorabilia in the catacombs. But no, there is a light on in the bathroom.

His knock on that door too goes unanswered, and he pushes his way in through the partially opened door. There are candles, and a full bath, and the sight of Magnus under the water in said bath. The sight makes his blood run cold as he rushes over to her. The sound of him coming in startles her enough to cause her to sit up, and the timing of her popping up from under the water startles him enough he falls back onto his butt on the bath mat. Rose colored, of all things.

“Jesus Magnus!” he exclaims. She doesn't respond, just tucks herself up against her legs, for modesty or warmth he doesn't know, and hides her face. He reaches out to touch her shoulder. She doesn't shy away, but she feels ice cold. He next reaches for the water. Freezing. How long has she been in here? “Don't frighten me like that.” he scolds, more quietly, before reaching to pull the plug on the drain. As the water starts to gurgle it's way out he takes her hair in his hand and squeezes out some of the water.

“It wasn't my intent.” she says quietly, still not looking at him while he reaches for a towel to drape around her shoulders. He sighs, wanting more from her and knowing it was futile. She has nothing left to give.

“Can you get out on your own?” She nods and he leaves her, closing the door quietly, though the click still echoes in the silence.

When she finally comes out he is sitting on the side of her bed with his head in his hands. She's just in her bathrobe and is towel drying her hair. She looks around and sees a tray of food, and some medical supplies, including some syringes and vials.

“I'm sorry I frightened you. I wasn't trying to...I was just....”

“Enjoying the quiet, I know.” he sighs, looking up at her with sympathetic eyes. “I'm sorry too. I just...”

“Needed to know I'm okay. I understand.” she offers a small smile before sitting down next to him. “What did you bring me?” she says indicating the tray.

“Drugs.” he said with a wry smile. “Torpodol and Morphine. Wasn't sure what you'd need, or be willing to take.”

“I think the Torpodol will be sufficient, thank you.” He got up to fill the syringe and give her a shot. A NSAID wasn't much, but he is just happy she was willing to take anything for the pain. He would've liked to have dosed her earlier and ordered her up to rest but that would've gone over like a lead balloon and he had known not to try it.

After, he looks around before asking her where her hair dryer is. She can do it herself but doesn't stop him when he moves to dry her hair. She understands the need for him to do something, to touch her, prove her real and alive. And in truth she was sore. John had hurt her, and the adrenaline of the day was finally wearing off. She doesn't stop him when afterwards he brushes her hair out. He is delicate, slowly working out the tangles, trying so hard not to cause her pain. He takes longer then needed and she lets him. Lets him work out his thoughts just as he works out the knots. Eventually the adrenaline wears off him as well, and her hair tickles her neck as he brushes it aside and puts his face there, breathing her in. She reaches up and runs her fingers through his hair, trying to soothe, and it seems to work as he gives in with a sigh and wraps his arms around her from behind.

“I'm sorry.” he mumbles into her skin. His breath is warm and she closes her eyes to drink it in. She can't help but think how different her life would be if he had been there at Oxford. She wouldn't miss what she had never known, and life would've been so beautifully simple if it were just the two of them.

She wants so badly to be over John. To move on. To forget. Or at least to put those memories up on a shelf. She thought she had. She always thinks things with John are boxed safely away, but then the box falls off the shelf and smacks her on her head and she is left to pick up the pieces. And now Will is left to deal with her head injury.

She thinks about that. About how gentle and kind Will is and how it reminds her of what John was like, before. Before she had never understood how John could go from one to the other. Some unseen demon battling for his soul perhaps? Something beyond science's understanding at the time. Will understood she had thought, though she had never dared ask she had always figured Will knew the answer to those unspeakable questions. The whys of it all. She had found solace in that. That there was someone smarter who understood. Someone who, in another life, might have been able to fix what was broken.

Now though, to find out after so long that all the answers she had wanted were firmly within her wheelhouse of understanding, but the solution so unreachable that those answers didn't even matter? None if it changed anything, and likely never would have.

And worse, it was all so random. All so much to chance. If Will had been there, could the same have happened to him? Could it happen to him now? Something worse? Was it only a matter of time till it did? Till her sweet William was caught up in her wake and drown like the others? She was always so firm in what she wanted, so strong in putting together a plan to get where she wanted to go. Always so ready to fight and win, that she was never really ready to lose. To accept loss. And when it inevitably happened it felt like the rug got pulled out from under her and she was falling down an abyss.

She feels Will tighten his arms around her and thinks of him. Eight years old, hiding in a tent, waiting for his mother to come back. She had not been the one to tell him she wouldn't, she didn't have to. Even so young he had read all the answers to his questions in her eyes. She could still remember how trusting he was when she reached to pull him out of that tent. She could feel echos of his tiny limbs as they gripped onto her jacket in the same way his fingers were clenched in her bathrobe now. She knew what he was thinking, that if he just holds on tight enough maybe he can keep her from slipping away. From being lost like all the others.

It won't work. I never does. It didn't work with John, or James, or Ashley. They all tried so hard to stay with her. They all died. For all her skills and carefully constructed plans nothing mattered. Everything was chaos and would fall apart. There was only grief and pain. The emotions bubble up inside her until she thinks her chest might explode. She can feel the tears on her cheeks but doesn't realize she is also screaming until she feels Will trying to pry her hand away from her mouth. Even in throws of grief it seems she still doesn't want to let herself just feel.

Will guides her hand to clasp his shirt before pulling her further up on the bed. She comes to rest between his legs and she turns and presses her ear into his chest to hear his heart beating. Her mind is lost in images of John and Ashley; James, and her father; of a parasitical abnormal that a day ago she didn't know existed, but now realizes has altered the course of her entire life and the lives of so many others. She never knew Will's mother anymore than she did her own, dying too young, but somehow she feels weighted down by both all the same.

Past screaming her mind is stuck on a loop of 'gone' and 'never again'. And she thinks this is the way she will go. That her body will simply break apart while she sobs, held tight in Will's arms. Like a china doll that has been hugged to tight. It won't be a bad end. She is safe here, content here, with Will rocking her to sleep. And the last thing she remembers before darkness mercifully overtakes her is the sound of his heart beat and the warmth of his breath against the top of her head as he promises her she's going to be okay.

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Table of Contents

Preface

Requiem

Losses and Gains

End of the World

After Midnight

One A Day

Anyday

Radiate

Bad Day

Afterword