FIC: "The Present is Theirs; The Future is Mine," Helen Magnus/Helena G Wells
Title: The Present is Theirs; The Future is Mine
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: Sanctuary, Warehouse 13
Pairing: Helen Magnus/Helena G Wells, Helen Magnus/James Watson/John Druitt
Word Count: 2,670
Category: AU, romance
Spoilers: Tempus
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me.
Rating: Mature
Author's Note: This may be the start of a series. I had an idea for something that doesn't happen here, but could very well occur later on in the story. This is just sort of setting the scene for future stories in this reality.
Summary: Helen realizes the past is broken beyond repair and surrenders to the inevitable.
AO3
1898
It was a crack running from the point of impact toward the edges of the mirror. It was a raindrop disturbing the flat surface of a still pond. It was a shout echoing from the walls of a cavern until nothing remained but a memory of a voice.
It was the last rented carriage that meant whoever arrived next would be sent away empty handed. It was an amount of finite material that was exhausted with her order. A cold virus that passed through her and was thus delayed from its historically appointed rounds. People who originally became ill on Tuesday were now fine until Thursday or the week-end. Miniscule changes, hardly worth noticing, but they begat larger changes that spread to waves and shattered glass. The clothes she bought, the food she ate, it all expanded exponentially into the world. Eventually she decided that with all the small damage she had done, it wouldn't hurt to make one large change if it helped her make sense of it all.
Once H.G. recovered from de-bronzing, Helen explained the situation to her as they shared a "rebirthing" cigarette. They were in the bedroom Helen had been using, a bolt hole that she knew for a fact she hadn't set foot in before 1906. H.G. lounged on the bed, taking a long drag from the cigarette as Helen told her tale. Their fingers brushed as they passed the cigarette back and forth until finally the story was done.
"What do you think? You're the expert on time travel."
"Hardly, dear. I've never gotten any of my bloody contraptions to work. But now that I know it's possible I can focus my attentions properly. You have given me hope, Helen. I thank you." She drew on the cigarette and stared at a spot near the ceiling. When she exhaled in a plume of white, she rested on her elbow and stretched to hand the cigarette back to Helen. "As for your question, it's impossible. You forever altered the course of history when you set foot on a London street in full view of everyone. Your first five minutes in this era, you and Adam Worth destroyed a building. You were arrested by Scotland Yard and exposed them to your fashions and speech patterns. Can you honestly say that you've not used anachronistic slang since your arrival?"
Helen looked away.
"The James Watson who provides you with supplies is not the James Watson you knew. This world is changed, Helen. A small change, but it will grow. Someone lost their home or business because of your fight with Adam Worth."
"So my timeline is doomed?"
"Not at all. Your timeline will continue, just without you. One can't simply step back in time and then follow along the current." She held the cigarette between her lips, then removed it. She blew out a single solid puff of smoke and used her tongue to split it into two separate streams. "See? Adam Worth forked the timeline. In one, history progresses as planned. In the other, there are two Helen Magnuses." She sucked in a breath through her teeth and let her eyes linger on Helen for a long moment. "A thought I am trying very desperately not to make prurient."
Helen managed a smile. "So nothing I do makes a difference."
"On the contrary. Everything you do makes a difference, but it won't affect the world you left. Time is not a linear progression. What we experience as the present is mutable, and the future is ever-changing. Don't think of what you did as going back in time. Think of it as... stepping sideways into a stream that's moving a touch slower than the one you started in."
Helen considered that. "So to the world I left, I'm dead."
"Unfortunately, that would appear to be the case."
"I wish I could explain... tell them..." She let her words drift off, pressing her thumb between her lips and chewing idly on the nail. "I've lost so many people that I love. Today I got so many of them back that I'm tempted."
"Give in to the temptation, Helen. And come over here so that I may give in to one of my own." She held out her hand. "It's been far too long since I've felt someone's flesh against mine. I crave your touch, my dear."
Helen took a final drag off her cigarette before resting it on the porcelain ashtray on the nightstand. She stood up and slipped out of her robe before she joined H.G. on the bed. She thought of the horrible things she could prevent if she stopped trying to protect the timeline. She could prevent atrocities, she could save hundreds of thousands of lives. She could provide priceless intelligence that would bring an end to wars years earlier. Would the resulting world be better than the one she left? It was impossible to tell. But could it be worse?
She undressed H.G. slowly and decided that, for better or for worse, the past was her present now. No matter what the calendar said, the future was something that hadn't happened yet. It was a blank slate on which she could create whatever future she wanted. The possibilities were truly breathtaking, as was the woman spread out before her. She put aside thoughts of worlds and loved ones lost and focused on the moment at hand.
1918
SIS Officer Helen Magnus marched into the Sanctuary, hell-bent on murdering someone. She removed her leather riding gloves, scanning the rooms she passed for her intended victim. The sun was low in the sky, hitting the eastern-facing windows at an angle that washed them in golden light. The grand foyer of the home, which had grown into a palace in the past two decades, was far too idyllic and peaceful for her mood. She pulled open the doors to the office and found her nemesis at a table surrounded by James Watson, Nikola Tesla, and John Druitt. All four looked up when the doors were flung open, and Helen aimed a finger at the source of her ire.
"You!"
Dame Doctor Helen Magnus, DBE, sighed. "What have I done now?"
Officer Magnus stopped in front of the desk, blonde hair in disarray as she glared at her elder twin. "You neglected to inform me that Davison was a cui'l. Have you any idea how much damage he could have done if I'd been less prepared?"
Dame Magnus blinked in surprised. "Davison was a cui'l? Very curious."
"Yes. I thought as much when he nearly severed my head with the spines on his tail. He transformed in the transport van. It was all I could do to get off the road in one piece so I could deal with him properly. Nikola, if you do not cease that infernal smirking I will make it so that you never smile again."
Nikola raised an eyebrow but his smile dimmed slightly.
"I apologize. He wasn't infected during the original mission." Dame Magnus tilted her head toward the window, an affectation that the others knew meant that she was trying to follow the ripples back to a source, the one thing she had changed since her arrival that led to Marcus Davison becoming infested by cui'l larvae. She shook her head to dispel the reverie and focused on her younger duplicate again. "Were you badly injured?"
"No."
James cleared his throat. "I believe you are actually angry at yourself, Helen." He glanced down at the brunette version seated at his side and smiled. "Well, you know what I mean. We're all guilty of it. Despite Dame Magnus' assurances that the time line is becoming less and less like the one she knew, we still rely on her as if she's an unending fount of information. We treat her as if she's an infallible oracle. It's been twenty years since she arrived. This is not the world she knew." He glanced past Officer Magnus at the office doors she had left open and smiled when he saw who was entering. "Ah, and here we have the evidence."
The new arrival wore men's trousers and a matching jacket, despite the very feminine curves underneath the stiff clothing. She wore a waistcoast buttoned high enough that only the collar of her dress shirt was revealed, a small red bow tie done up at her throat. The girl's blonde hair was pulled back in twin braids and she slowed as she realized everyone's attention was focused on her.
"Have I done something wrong?"
"Of course not, Ashley," Officer Magnus said.
The girl relaxed and stood next to her mother. Dame Magnus, as always, took a moment to marvel at the girl standing before her. Ashley Christina Magnus-Wells had been born in 1899, the result of a very unusual gestation. Fathered by John Druitt, the fetus was kept in stasis by a device James and Nikola created. When Dame Magnus gave up hope on recreating her timeline, she saw an ideal opportunity to heal the losses she and H.G. had both suffered. H.G. carried the child to term and gave birth to the same beautiful young lady Helen remembered. She looked the same, spoke the same - with the exception of a posh British accent that came with being born and raised in London - but existed a century earlier than she should have. It was truly like bringing back the dead. The result was that Ashley was born eleven years after she was conceived and could boast no less than four genetic parents.
Ashley returned Dame Magnus' stare but didn't question it. She was used to her mother's twin regarding her with a sense of loss and gratitude and had long since stopped trying to get her to talk about it. She waited a moment before she broke the silence by speaking. "We managed to recapture the dra'awng without further casualties. There was a bit of a dust-up on the boat to bring it back home, but everything was settled quickly. Mother H.G. is currently securing it downstairs."
"Thank you, Ashley," Dame Magnus said.
"Yes'm." She kissed Officer Magnus' cheek and squeezed her hand before leaving the office.
As always, the visit from their daughter calmed Officer Magnus' temper. Her posture became more relaxed and her face was calm when she turned back to the table. "I apologize, Dame. I shouldn't rely so thoroughly on your reports."
"It's quite all right. I spoiled you all for the first few years, so it's only natural. Perhaps the time has come for us to split as we discussed ten years ago."
In her mind, it was still much too early for the establishment of a North American Sanctuary, but the mission was progressing much faster than it had the first time. There had been no time wasted by World War I - damn and blast, the Great War. She would never forget the look on James' face when she first referred to it by a numerical title. The 1918 influenza epidemic had been nipped in the bud, cured within a few weeks due to James getting the jump on it. Millions of lives saved, but at what cost?
Floods, tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes. She told herself that some she must have just forgotten, but there were far too many - and the casualties were far too great - for her to have forgotten them all. When she told her fears to James, he had only considered the question with a finger hooked over his upper lip, head bowed so that the light cast shadows over his eyes.
"It stands to reason. Extinction level events are nature's way of restoring balance. When mankind becomes too unwieldy for the planet, it..." He waved a hand. "Cleans the slate. A few million killed in a war, some thousand buried in a mudslide. It's an intriguing example. You prevented mass casualties of war, only for other lives to be lost in a fire. There is a cruel sentience to nature, it seems."
She turned and looked out the window, the setting sun shining on her tears. "I killed them all. I'm responsible."
He touched Helen's chin and forced her to look at him. "Don't burden yourself unnecessarily, Helen. Those lives were not yours to save or give away. It was not a debit being paid on your account. If anything, they merely prove that for all the changes you've created, the universe finds a way to balance itself. You will still achieve the things you were meant to achieve and you will have everything you were meant to have."
"No," Helen whispered. She smiled and kissed his hand. "I will have so much more, and I will know to not take it for granted. Thank you, James."
Now the discussion again turned to creating a new Sanctuary. They split into their standard formation; Officer Magnus sided with John and James, her lovers, while Dame Magnus attempted to keep an open mind. It was easier for her to avoid pitfalls than it had been in the beginning, but she still often found herself thinking of the "real" timeline or referring to how things had "really" happened.
They finally ceased the discussion at a stalemate. Dame Magnus, who had been awake all night awaiting word from her daughter, excused herself and went to her room for a quick nap. She found H.G. sitting on the edge of the bed, bending forward to undo the laces of her boot. The back and sleeves of her white blouse were still red with Eritrean dust, and her hair was a loose, tangled mess. She looked back as the door opened and smiled wearily.
"Darling."
"Hello, my love." Helen closed the door and crossed to H.G.'s side of the bed. She lowered herself to her knees, gently moved her hands away, and H.G. leaned back as Helen undid the laces and helped pull the boots off. She rolled down H.G.'s socks and gently massaged the arches of her tired, aching feet. H.G. groaned and rolled her head back.
"God, don't start that. I'm bound to fall asleep on you."
"Go on. I'm just as exhausted and it's been far too long since I've slept in your arms." She bent down and kissed H.G.'s toes. "We can reacquaint ourselves properly when we're both fully rested." She continued her massage and H.G. began unbuttoning her blouse. "How was our daughter?"
"She is fully the sum of her parts. The best of her father and mothers. But of course you knew that."
Helen smiled. "I knew a girl fathered by John Druitt, raised by a single mother. She looks the same, but this Ashley is truly ours."
"Mm." She shrugged out of her blouse and bundled it inside-out so the dust didn't fall over the bedclothes. Helen undid the catch of her trousers, and H.G. lifted her hips so they could be pulled down and off. H.G. sighed and lay back, hands resting on her chest just above the swell of her breasts, and she relaxed as Helen kissed a path up her legs.
"Would you like me to run the water for a bath?"
"Not yet. I'd just fall asleep in the water and wake up grumpy. After we sleep."
"Very well." She sat up and undressed herself, then climbed onto the bed. H.G. disturbed herself just enough to get under the blankets. They spooned against each other, kissing gently as they both let sleep claim them. Helen stroked H.G.'s cheek and wondered, as she often did, what awaited her when she finally returned to 2011. There was no way to tell if it would be better or worse, and maybe those terms didn't even apply to the situation. The only certain thing was that the world she finally returned to would be different. And different, she had long ago discovered, was not always a bad thing.
She smiled as she fell asleep to the sound of H.G.'s breathing.
Author: geonncannon
Fandom: Sanctuary, Warehouse 13
Pairing: Helen Magnus/Helena G Wells, Helen Magnus/James Watson/John Druitt
Word Count: 2,670
Category: AU, romance
Spoilers: Tempus
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me.
Rating: Mature
Author's Note: This may be the start of a series. I had an idea for something that doesn't happen here, but could very well occur later on in the story. This is just sort of setting the scene for future stories in this reality.
Summary: Helen realizes the past is broken beyond repair and surrenders to the inevitable.
AO3
1898
It was a crack running from the point of impact toward the edges of the mirror. It was a raindrop disturbing the flat surface of a still pond. It was a shout echoing from the walls of a cavern until nothing remained but a memory of a voice.
It was the last rented carriage that meant whoever arrived next would be sent away empty handed. It was an amount of finite material that was exhausted with her order. A cold virus that passed through her and was thus delayed from its historically appointed rounds. People who originally became ill on Tuesday were now fine until Thursday or the week-end. Miniscule changes, hardly worth noticing, but they begat larger changes that spread to waves and shattered glass. The clothes she bought, the food she ate, it all expanded exponentially into the world. Eventually she decided that with all the small damage she had done, it wouldn't hurt to make one large change if it helped her make sense of it all.
Once H.G. recovered from de-bronzing, Helen explained the situation to her as they shared a "rebirthing" cigarette. They were in the bedroom Helen had been using, a bolt hole that she knew for a fact she hadn't set foot in before 1906. H.G. lounged on the bed, taking a long drag from the cigarette as Helen told her tale. Their fingers brushed as they passed the cigarette back and forth until finally the story was done.
"What do you think? You're the expert on time travel."
"Hardly, dear. I've never gotten any of my bloody contraptions to work. But now that I know it's possible I can focus my attentions properly. You have given me hope, Helen. I thank you." She drew on the cigarette and stared at a spot near the ceiling. When she exhaled in a plume of white, she rested on her elbow and stretched to hand the cigarette back to Helen. "As for your question, it's impossible. You forever altered the course of history when you set foot on a London street in full view of everyone. Your first five minutes in this era, you and Adam Worth destroyed a building. You were arrested by Scotland Yard and exposed them to your fashions and speech patterns. Can you honestly say that you've not used anachronistic slang since your arrival?"
Helen looked away.
"The James Watson who provides you with supplies is not the James Watson you knew. This world is changed, Helen. A small change, but it will grow. Someone lost their home or business because of your fight with Adam Worth."
"So my timeline is doomed?"
"Not at all. Your timeline will continue, just without you. One can't simply step back in time and then follow along the current." She held the cigarette between her lips, then removed it. She blew out a single solid puff of smoke and used her tongue to split it into two separate streams. "See? Adam Worth forked the timeline. In one, history progresses as planned. In the other, there are two Helen Magnuses." She sucked in a breath through her teeth and let her eyes linger on Helen for a long moment. "A thought I am trying very desperately not to make prurient."
Helen managed a smile. "So nothing I do makes a difference."
"On the contrary. Everything you do makes a difference, but it won't affect the world you left. Time is not a linear progression. What we experience as the present is mutable, and the future is ever-changing. Don't think of what you did as going back in time. Think of it as... stepping sideways into a stream that's moving a touch slower than the one you started in."
Helen considered that. "So to the world I left, I'm dead."
"Unfortunately, that would appear to be the case."
"I wish I could explain... tell them..." She let her words drift off, pressing her thumb between her lips and chewing idly on the nail. "I've lost so many people that I love. Today I got so many of them back that I'm tempted."
"Give in to the temptation, Helen. And come over here so that I may give in to one of my own." She held out her hand. "It's been far too long since I've felt someone's flesh against mine. I crave your touch, my dear."
Helen took a final drag off her cigarette before resting it on the porcelain ashtray on the nightstand. She stood up and slipped out of her robe before she joined H.G. on the bed. She thought of the horrible things she could prevent if she stopped trying to protect the timeline. She could prevent atrocities, she could save hundreds of thousands of lives. She could provide priceless intelligence that would bring an end to wars years earlier. Would the resulting world be better than the one she left? It was impossible to tell. But could it be worse?
She undressed H.G. slowly and decided that, for better or for worse, the past was her present now. No matter what the calendar said, the future was something that hadn't happened yet. It was a blank slate on which she could create whatever future she wanted. The possibilities were truly breathtaking, as was the woman spread out before her. She put aside thoughts of worlds and loved ones lost and focused on the moment at hand.
1918
SIS Officer Helen Magnus marched into the Sanctuary, hell-bent on murdering someone. She removed her leather riding gloves, scanning the rooms she passed for her intended victim. The sun was low in the sky, hitting the eastern-facing windows at an angle that washed them in golden light. The grand foyer of the home, which had grown into a palace in the past two decades, was far too idyllic and peaceful for her mood. She pulled open the doors to the office and found her nemesis at a table surrounded by James Watson, Nikola Tesla, and John Druitt. All four looked up when the doors were flung open, and Helen aimed a finger at the source of her ire.
"You!"
Dame Doctor Helen Magnus, DBE, sighed. "What have I done now?"
Officer Magnus stopped in front of the desk, blonde hair in disarray as she glared at her elder twin. "You neglected to inform me that Davison was a cui'l. Have you any idea how much damage he could have done if I'd been less prepared?"
Dame Magnus blinked in surprised. "Davison was a cui'l? Very curious."
"Yes. I thought as much when he nearly severed my head with the spines on his tail. He transformed in the transport van. It was all I could do to get off the road in one piece so I could deal with him properly. Nikola, if you do not cease that infernal smirking I will make it so that you never smile again."
Nikola raised an eyebrow but his smile dimmed slightly.
"I apologize. He wasn't infected during the original mission." Dame Magnus tilted her head toward the window, an affectation that the others knew meant that she was trying to follow the ripples back to a source, the one thing she had changed since her arrival that led to Marcus Davison becoming infested by cui'l larvae. She shook her head to dispel the reverie and focused on her younger duplicate again. "Were you badly injured?"
"No."
James cleared his throat. "I believe you are actually angry at yourself, Helen." He glanced down at the brunette version seated at his side and smiled. "Well, you know what I mean. We're all guilty of it. Despite Dame Magnus' assurances that the time line is becoming less and less like the one she knew, we still rely on her as if she's an unending fount of information. We treat her as if she's an infallible oracle. It's been twenty years since she arrived. This is not the world she knew." He glanced past Officer Magnus at the office doors she had left open and smiled when he saw who was entering. "Ah, and here we have the evidence."
The new arrival wore men's trousers and a matching jacket, despite the very feminine curves underneath the stiff clothing. She wore a waistcoast buttoned high enough that only the collar of her dress shirt was revealed, a small red bow tie done up at her throat. The girl's blonde hair was pulled back in twin braids and she slowed as she realized everyone's attention was focused on her.
"Have I done something wrong?"
"Of course not, Ashley," Officer Magnus said.
The girl relaxed and stood next to her mother. Dame Magnus, as always, took a moment to marvel at the girl standing before her. Ashley Christina Magnus-Wells had been born in 1899, the result of a very unusual gestation. Fathered by John Druitt, the fetus was kept in stasis by a device James and Nikola created. When Dame Magnus gave up hope on recreating her timeline, she saw an ideal opportunity to heal the losses she and H.G. had both suffered. H.G. carried the child to term and gave birth to the same beautiful young lady Helen remembered. She looked the same, spoke the same - with the exception of a posh British accent that came with being born and raised in London - but existed a century earlier than she should have. It was truly like bringing back the dead. The result was that Ashley was born eleven years after she was conceived and could boast no less than four genetic parents.
Ashley returned Dame Magnus' stare but didn't question it. She was used to her mother's twin regarding her with a sense of loss and gratitude and had long since stopped trying to get her to talk about it. She waited a moment before she broke the silence by speaking. "We managed to recapture the dra'awng without further casualties. There was a bit of a dust-up on the boat to bring it back home, but everything was settled quickly. Mother H.G. is currently securing it downstairs."
"Thank you, Ashley," Dame Magnus said.
"Yes'm." She kissed Officer Magnus' cheek and squeezed her hand before leaving the office.
As always, the visit from their daughter calmed Officer Magnus' temper. Her posture became more relaxed and her face was calm when she turned back to the table. "I apologize, Dame. I shouldn't rely so thoroughly on your reports."
"It's quite all right. I spoiled you all for the first few years, so it's only natural. Perhaps the time has come for us to split as we discussed ten years ago."
In her mind, it was still much too early for the establishment of a North American Sanctuary, but the mission was progressing much faster than it had the first time. There had been no time wasted by World War I - damn and blast, the Great War. She would never forget the look on James' face when she first referred to it by a numerical title. The 1918 influenza epidemic had been nipped in the bud, cured within a few weeks due to James getting the jump on it. Millions of lives saved, but at what cost?
Floods, tsunamis, earthquakes, hurricanes. She told herself that some she must have just forgotten, but there were far too many - and the casualties were far too great - for her to have forgotten them all. When she told her fears to James, he had only considered the question with a finger hooked over his upper lip, head bowed so that the light cast shadows over his eyes.
"It stands to reason. Extinction level events are nature's way of restoring balance. When mankind becomes too unwieldy for the planet, it..." He waved a hand. "Cleans the slate. A few million killed in a war, some thousand buried in a mudslide. It's an intriguing example. You prevented mass casualties of war, only for other lives to be lost in a fire. There is a cruel sentience to nature, it seems."
She turned and looked out the window, the setting sun shining on her tears. "I killed them all. I'm responsible."
He touched Helen's chin and forced her to look at him. "Don't burden yourself unnecessarily, Helen. Those lives were not yours to save or give away. It was not a debit being paid on your account. If anything, they merely prove that for all the changes you've created, the universe finds a way to balance itself. You will still achieve the things you were meant to achieve and you will have everything you were meant to have."
"No," Helen whispered. She smiled and kissed his hand. "I will have so much more, and I will know to not take it for granted. Thank you, James."
Now the discussion again turned to creating a new Sanctuary. They split into their standard formation; Officer Magnus sided with John and James, her lovers, while Dame Magnus attempted to keep an open mind. It was easier for her to avoid pitfalls than it had been in the beginning, but she still often found herself thinking of the "real" timeline or referring to how things had "really" happened.
They finally ceased the discussion at a stalemate. Dame Magnus, who had been awake all night awaiting word from her daughter, excused herself and went to her room for a quick nap. She found H.G. sitting on the edge of the bed, bending forward to undo the laces of her boot. The back and sleeves of her white blouse were still red with Eritrean dust, and her hair was a loose, tangled mess. She looked back as the door opened and smiled wearily.
"Darling."
"Hello, my love." Helen closed the door and crossed to H.G.'s side of the bed. She lowered herself to her knees, gently moved her hands away, and H.G. leaned back as Helen undid the laces and helped pull the boots off. She rolled down H.G.'s socks and gently massaged the arches of her tired, aching feet. H.G. groaned and rolled her head back.
"God, don't start that. I'm bound to fall asleep on you."
"Go on. I'm just as exhausted and it's been far too long since I've slept in your arms." She bent down and kissed H.G.'s toes. "We can reacquaint ourselves properly when we're both fully rested." She continued her massage and H.G. began unbuttoning her blouse. "How was our daughter?"
"She is fully the sum of her parts. The best of her father and mothers. But of course you knew that."
Helen smiled. "I knew a girl fathered by John Druitt, raised by a single mother. She looks the same, but this Ashley is truly ours."
"Mm." She shrugged out of her blouse and bundled it inside-out so the dust didn't fall over the bedclothes. Helen undid the catch of her trousers, and H.G. lifted her hips so they could be pulled down and off. H.G. sighed and lay back, hands resting on her chest just above the swell of her breasts, and she relaxed as Helen kissed a path up her legs.
"Would you like me to run the water for a bath?"
"Not yet. I'd just fall asleep in the water and wake up grumpy. After we sleep."
"Very well." She sat up and undressed herself, then climbed onto the bed. H.G. disturbed herself just enough to get under the blankets. They spooned against each other, kissing gently as they both let sleep claim them. Helen stroked H.G.'s cheek and wondered, as she often did, what awaited her when she finally returned to 2011. There was no way to tell if it would be better or worse, and maybe those terms didn't even apply to the situation. The only certain thing was that the world she finally returned to would be different. And different, she had long ago discovered, was not always a bad thing.
She smiled as she fell asleep to the sound of H.G.'s breathing.