Heirloom [8/8]
Title: Heirloom [chapter 8/8]
Author: kiki_fan187
Rating: general
Category: general/angst
Characters: James, Helen, John with Ashley later on.
Summary: James finds something whilst investigating a murder scene. This fic is borne from that discovery.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Just taking them out for a spin and leaving them exactly where I found them.
This is the final chapter. There may be an epilogue somewhere down the road but this is the end chapter. It has pure speculation about season 2 but nothing spoilery. To those that have read this fic from the beginning, thank you ever so much. It truly means a lot and I just hope and pray that you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. The tears I've cried are definitely worth it.
”I’ve never shown you Rome, have I?”
“There was never time.”
Pelting drops of rain fell without remorse on them all as rumbling ominous clouds darkened the formerly sun-kissed sky, blocking out any thread of light that could have possibly shone through. Shrouded in the darkness of the elements, they all stood as they said goodbye. This sorrowful scene was becoming increasingly familiar to Helen, escalating in heartache each time with the rain soaking her to the core over and over again as the light once more left her life. She let the rain fall upon her without reservation. She didn’t care. She didn’t care that her long brunette hair was becoming saturated with the bombing downpour or that the dark clothing of her mourning outfit was drenched beyond drying. It didn’t matter to her. The ceaseless shivering of her limbs didn’t matter to her. She didn’t care about warmth. Raindrops slithered down through her hair and down the length of her neck, trailing down the curve of her spine without care for the intrusion. All that she knew was that her heart and soul were at this moment broken into countless pieces, forever beyond repair. Every part of her was overcome with devastation. Her chest screamed in pain with every ragged breath that she forced herself to inhale. She didn’t want to breathe. The pain was evident on her face.
She never thought she would be standing here.
She never thought she would be standing here so soon.
Will and Henry stood by the graveside, watching as the coffin was lowered gently into its bed for its final rest. The bearers were ever so gentle setting it down, like laying a baby into its crib for a slumber, only this time, they won’t wake up. Henry’s usual cheerful eyes were rimmed with painfully red circles that honestly showed the world of his pain at losing his best friend. He didn’t want to be shielded from the elements even as Will held an encompassing umbrella open. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want his grief to be shielded. If the rain fell so easily on the unshielded coffin, then he would do the same and let the elements pound him until he could take no more. Overcome with every miserable emotion possible, Henry stood blankly staring down at the grave. Will gently rested a hand on Henry’s soaked shoulder, trying to offer any comfort he could. He knew it couldn’t help, he knew it wouldn’t undo what was done but it helped him as much as he hoped it helped Henry. Taking refuge from the rain under the umbrella, Will tried to remain strong, attempting to keep his emotions in. His lower lip quivered but he blamed the cold. Will knew that tears were imminent now. Inhaling deeply, he hoped that it would keep his dams intact. But a shiver overcame him and it cracked him. The first tear paved the way quickly for others to follow suit. He didn’t have a hand free to wipe them from his face as one by one they fell relentlessly from his eyes. He had to mourn.
Through blurred eyes and rain spattered glasses, Will looked up at Magnus across the grave.
Her hands hung limply by her sides, the rain drops trickling from her fingertips as they continued their descent to the ground below. Will could see that her black trousers and long black coat were soaked beyond saturation. He could see the beads of rain that couldn’t find a home in the meshing of her clothing reflecting the dim light of the day and her hair sat soaking against her head, the usual bounce gone. Will wanted someone to shield her from the rain but knew she’d refuse it. She stood opposite them as the other side of the grave, looking in. He couldn’t imagine what she’s going through. He didn’t dare to attempt a single thought.
She looked desperately pale and her vivacious eyes now gazed blankly without any life behind them. Will was worried about her.
They all were.
They hadn’t expected things to turn out like this. They hadn’t wanted it to turn out this way.
As he watched her, Will really watched her; Helen, not Magnus. Her legs were locked in position; stiff, frozen, false strength. Her hands hung limply by her side; not wanting to comfort herself, blaming herself, not offering any solace, inconsolable even to herself. Blank expression; is it really as blank as it looks? Was she internally punishing herself? The clenched jaw certainly indicated it. As soon as he finished his train of thought he instantly regretted it. What kind of situation was this to be profiling his mentor? She didn’t need a forensic psychologist to tell her how she felt or describe how she expressed her grief or didn’t express it. It didn’t take a forensic psychologist to notice that she was in tremendous pain. It was clearly evident. Like Henry, her eyes looked vacantly at the coffin. She couldn’t listen to the empty words of comfort from the priest.
Then it was all over. There was nothing left to do.
John turned to Helen. He could see the immense heartache that was prevalent throughout her entire body. Like Will, he stood holding an umbrella. John silently closed the small gap that separated them and let the umbrella protect her from the downpour. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the grave. He saw her chin tighten, the way that he remembered it did when she was upset and on the brink of tears. Then her jaw quivered.
“Helen,” John whispered softly as he moved his hand to her shoulder.
Helen pulled away just as his hand was about to touch her. With downcast eyes, she turned and walked away from the grave, from her daughter’s grave.
The silence of the room was deafening as Helen sat with her daughter. Her dead daughter. Her heart broke agonizingly with every utterance or thought of that phrase. ‘She’s gone, Magnus. Ashley’s dead. There was nothing anyone could’ve done.’ She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud but no matter how many times she denied it, Ashley lay here in front of her. Lifeless. Sitting with Ashley, she looked innocently asleep, and it was only the stark paleness of her cheeks that screamed at Helen that she would never wake up. Helen wanted to reach out and caress the cheek of her little girl but she stopped herself, fearing that if she did, the warmth of her own hand would burn the cold skin of her daughter. Her hand, instead, hovered above her pale skin. Helen’s heart broke at the sight of her daughter like this. To see such a young, vibrant and obstinate girl lying here now was unthinkable, it was unbearable. Ashley lay so silent, so still. Helen thought through all of her twenty-short years and Ashley had never once been this soundless. She missed the sound of her voice, the sound of her footsteps already.
‘Mom’ was the last thing Ashley ever said to her whilst still in the thrall of the Cabal. In a moment of clarity, her Ashley whispered it before her eyes glowed, indicating that whatever control the Cabal exerted on her was back. Then it hit Helen. She would never again hear Ashley call her ‘Mom’; regardless of whether or not it was in a bright and breezy manner, an angry tone or a general voice. She would never again here the sound of her voice. Yes, she could watch videos but it wasn’t the same, nothing could replace the sound of her daughter’s voice. She will never hug her daughter again, wrap her arms around her or spend another ‘Midnight at the Oasis’ with Ashley. Everything that they had as mother and daughter was gone.
Silently, Helen took out the final accessory to bury Ashley with. The thought of putting her daughter in a wooden box and then putting it in the ground caused every part of her body to cry out in pain. Her eyes filled with tears as her breathing hitched with sorrow. With shaking hands and ever so gently, Helen placed the necklace that she had given her on her eighteenth birthday around her neck where it belonged; the one that the Cabal took from her, the one that she had been wearing the day they turned her against her family.
“Ashley,” Helen whispered in a voice that was barely there.
Helen’s body quaked with silent sobs, her lungs hitching with each shallow breath. Her eyes quickly became blurred with mounting tears. Her daughter was gone. Dead. The child she had carried for nine months, endured the agony of labour for to bring into the world and raised for twenty-three years was gone forever. She closed her eyes and the dams burst and the tears flowed freely down her face, dripping from her jaw. She couldn’t hold it back. She spilled out her heart with every agonising sob. Every tear that fell was for her daughter, her child, her best friend.
She couldn’t believe that she was going to bury her daughter.
Heartbroken and grieving, Helen fixed Ashley’s fringe on her forehead before gently resting her head on her shoulder and letting her tears continue to fall.
It took Helen a long time to decide on what Ashley should wear. It took her almost forever to summon up the courage to go into her daughter's bedroom, to go through her drawers and wardrobe and find her something to wear. She thought it would have cemented what had happened. Questions ran rife in her mind; Should it be a proper outfit or Ashley’s favourite or Helen’s favourite for Ashley? She didn’t know and she couldn’t ponder these questions with anybody else. She was completely alone again. The Cabal has taken away the only thing that she truly lived for.
“Helen!” John called after her as she furiously trampled through the graveyard to the car.
She didn’t reply as she continued on. She didn’t want to listen to any more heartrending thoughts of sympathy and condolence. They didn’t mean a thing to her. Her daughter was gone and nothing was ever going to bring her back. She didn’t want to be around anyone. The last thing she wanted was to talk to the man that gave her their daughter in the first place. Helen didn’t want to speak to him. She knew that if she looked at him, she would see Ashley, she would see all that she had to go through to protect Ashley from his murderous ways and she would ultimately see the night that they created her. She didn’t want to see it. It would only add to the agony she was already being overwhelmed with.
“Helen,” he called more forcefully as Will and Henry and the other mourners dissipated from her grave and heading for their cars.
Again, Helen refused to listen.
In a quick flash, he stood in front of her, blocking her escape to the car and forgetting about the umbrella he dropped as he teleported. She walked straight into him before recoiling back.
“Get out of my way, John,” she seethed looking up with him from her eyes, not raising her head.
“I won’t.”
“John - move,” Helen repeated determinedly clenching her teeth as the rain continued to pelt down on them.
“Helen,” he tried stepping closer.
Helen jumped back again, withdrawing away and warning him, “Don’t!”
“Helen.”
“I don’t want to hear it - least of all from you.”
“I wasn’t your fault.”
Helen’s features immediately tightened and her heart stopped.
“I told you that I don’t want to hear it. Now. Get. Out. Of my way.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” John replied tenderly and purposefully.
“I mean it, John, get out of my way,” Helen barked as she tried to get around him.
As Helen moved to each side going from left to right, John blocked her. He stopped her at every dodge. Every direction that she tried, he was there. Rain blinded her eyes and her hair fell in front of her face and her whole body cried out for rest but she continued to try to get past him. She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t want to cry anymore. She knew that if she did, she didn’t know when she’d stop. If she could stop. The pain that she was feeling was infinitely more devastating than when she lost John. Ashley had been her baby, her little girl, her teenager, her daughter and her entire family.
Helen was inconsolable.
If she didn’t want to talk to John, so be it. Why couldn’t he understand that? Why was that so hard for him to understand? It had all been her fault. Solely her fault. Why couldn’t he see that? Why was he so determined to lie to her? She had let Ashley and Henry go into the Cabal stronghold by themselves alone, without any backup. It had been her decision. She had said yes to them. They wouldn’t have gone if she had refused them permission. It had been her decision alone. Why hadn’t she been more forceful and stayed with her initial refusal to let them go? If she had remained resolute Ashley would never have been caught and subject to their testing and ultimately turned into their first line of defence. Her daughter would be alive and well had it not been for her. Why did she agree when she knew the risks?
Aggravation and fury increasingly boiled within her, with guilty evermore stirring the pot. She wasn’t up to playing John’s game any longer. Her patience was at boiling point. Her eyes went ablaze with anger and her hands clenched into fists. She pushed fiercely against him, trying to throw him out of her way but he remained stoic and strong in front of her, refusing to let her move away from him. Rage now accompanied her frustration.
“Get out of my way!” Helen screamed harshly as she continually struggled against him and pushing him away.
“She’s gone, Helen.”
“Don’t you dare say that!”
“Ashley’s gone.”
“Don’t you ever say her name!” Helen growled as she pushed him away with all her strength.
Recovering, John closed the gap between them and firmly enveloped Helen in his arms, “Ashley’s gone. She’s gone, Helen.”
In his arms, she struggled. She fists pummelled his chest furiously, wishing that he would let her go but she remained in his hold.
“Let me go, John!” she cried over and over as her energy waned.
Gradually, Helen’s ferocity lessened and she collapsed to the ground, her legs buckling from underneath her. John gently lowered her to the sodden ground, with his arms still around her.
“I never should have let her go,” Helen cried in a whisper, “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I never should have let her go. Ashley’s dead because of me. I killed our daughter. It’s my fault.”
John rested his head gently on her soaking tresses as he held her. He held her as her control left her, leaving her overwhelmed and completely grief-stricken. She had never planned on burying her daughter at twenty-three. She wanted her daughter to live a long and fulfilled life. Not just twenty-three years. Helen’s body became racked with shattering sobs and painful cries of desperation. Her daughter was gone. Sitting on the ground, Helen leaned against his chest as his arms held her close, protecting her from the rain. He couldn’t protect her from her anguish so the rain was the next best thing. It was all he could do. He had only been in Ashley’s life for a split-second. He didn’t really know her. He never got the chance. All he knew was that her name was Ashley, she was twenty-three, she had blonde hair and blue eyes, she was his daughter and that Helen had raised her beautifully. He had heard people say that they would all see Ashley again in Heaven. It wasn’t so simple for Helen. She didn’t know when she would die. By all rights they all should have died a long time ago but yet, here they remained. Helen didn’t know when she would see her daughter again in the celestial After. She took little comfort in it when all she wanted was to have her daughter by her side and not overlooking her. Her grief-stricken cries broke the whirling hiss of the wind which carried it to the ears of those around her. Their hearts fell over heartbeats in their chests, having never heard such a heartwrenching sound come from Helen Magnus.
Gradually, little by little, Helen’s body became still as her body tired with her sobs.
Suddenly, Helen pushed him away. He stumbled back in his crouch, retaining his balance. Helen scrambled to her feet. She looked down at him as he stood up to standing. Her jaw quivered and she quickly walked past him and to her car, not saying a word or looking back as she wiped her tears from her face and pulled her completely soaked coat close as if nothing had happened. Helen shut John out after letting him in. Solemnly, John followed.
Once all in their cars, they drove on. They left the graveyard, the cemetery.
They left Ashley.
They left Ashley Patricia Magnus in her bed.
They went back to their lives. Magnus left Helen behind, forever becoming Magnus. The Doctor. The scientist. She was no longer Helen the mother. Magnus. Doctor Magnus. Was her name and who she was.
I miss you
Miss you so bad
I don't forget you
Oh it's so sad.
I hope you can hear me
I remember it clearly.
The day you slipped away
Was the day i found
It, won't be the same
Now you're gone [Now you're gone]
There you go [There you go]
Somewhere I can't bring you back
Now you're gone [Now you're gone]
There you go [There you go]
Somewhere you're not coming back
~ Avril Lavigne 'Slipped Away'
N.B. I know that it isn't mentioned in the show if Ashley has a middle name of not but I made it up. In an RP with halfbloodme, I used it and it seems to work.
1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | epilogue ?
Author: kiki_fan187
Rating: general
Category: general/angst
Characters: James, Helen, John with Ashley later on.
Summary: James finds something whilst investigating a murder scene. This fic is borne from that discovery.
Disclaimer: Characters are not mine. Just taking them out for a spin and leaving them exactly where I found them.
This is the final chapter. There may be an epilogue somewhere down the road but this is the end chapter. It has pure speculation about season 2 but nothing spoilery. To those that have read this fic from the beginning, thank you ever so much. It truly means a lot and I just hope and pray that you've enjoyed reading it as much as I've enjoyed writing it. The tears I've cried are definitely worth it.
”I’ve never shown you Rome, have I?”
“There was never time.”
Pelting drops of rain fell without remorse on them all as rumbling ominous clouds darkened the formerly sun-kissed sky, blocking out any thread of light that could have possibly shone through. Shrouded in the darkness of the elements, they all stood as they said goodbye. This sorrowful scene was becoming increasingly familiar to Helen, escalating in heartache each time with the rain soaking her to the core over and over again as the light once more left her life. She let the rain fall upon her without reservation. She didn’t care. She didn’t care that her long brunette hair was becoming saturated with the bombing downpour or that the dark clothing of her mourning outfit was drenched beyond drying. It didn’t matter to her. The ceaseless shivering of her limbs didn’t matter to her. She didn’t care about warmth. Raindrops slithered down through her hair and down the length of her neck, trailing down the curve of her spine without care for the intrusion. All that she knew was that her heart and soul were at this moment broken into countless pieces, forever beyond repair. Every part of her was overcome with devastation. Her chest screamed in pain with every ragged breath that she forced herself to inhale. She didn’t want to breathe. The pain was evident on her face.
She never thought she would be standing here.
She never thought she would be standing here so soon.
Will and Henry stood by the graveside, watching as the coffin was lowered gently into its bed for its final rest. The bearers were ever so gentle setting it down, like laying a baby into its crib for a slumber, only this time, they won’t wake up. Henry’s usual cheerful eyes were rimmed with painfully red circles that honestly showed the world of his pain at losing his best friend. He didn’t want to be shielded from the elements even as Will held an encompassing umbrella open. He didn’t want it. He didn’t want his grief to be shielded. If the rain fell so easily on the unshielded coffin, then he would do the same and let the elements pound him until he could take no more. Overcome with every miserable emotion possible, Henry stood blankly staring down at the grave. Will gently rested a hand on Henry’s soaked shoulder, trying to offer any comfort he could. He knew it couldn’t help, he knew it wouldn’t undo what was done but it helped him as much as he hoped it helped Henry. Taking refuge from the rain under the umbrella, Will tried to remain strong, attempting to keep his emotions in. His lower lip quivered but he blamed the cold. Will knew that tears were imminent now. Inhaling deeply, he hoped that it would keep his dams intact. But a shiver overcame him and it cracked him. The first tear paved the way quickly for others to follow suit. He didn’t have a hand free to wipe them from his face as one by one they fell relentlessly from his eyes. He had to mourn.
Through blurred eyes and rain spattered glasses, Will looked up at Magnus across the grave.
Her hands hung limply by her sides, the rain drops trickling from her fingertips as they continued their descent to the ground below. Will could see that her black trousers and long black coat were soaked beyond saturation. He could see the beads of rain that couldn’t find a home in the meshing of her clothing reflecting the dim light of the day and her hair sat soaking against her head, the usual bounce gone. Will wanted someone to shield her from the rain but knew she’d refuse it. She stood opposite them as the other side of the grave, looking in. He couldn’t imagine what she’s going through. He didn’t dare to attempt a single thought.
She looked desperately pale and her vivacious eyes now gazed blankly without any life behind them. Will was worried about her.
They all were.
They hadn’t expected things to turn out like this. They hadn’t wanted it to turn out this way.
As he watched her, Will really watched her; Helen, not Magnus. Her legs were locked in position; stiff, frozen, false strength. Her hands hung limply by her side; not wanting to comfort herself, blaming herself, not offering any solace, inconsolable even to herself. Blank expression; is it really as blank as it looks? Was she internally punishing herself? The clenched jaw certainly indicated it. As soon as he finished his train of thought he instantly regretted it. What kind of situation was this to be profiling his mentor? She didn’t need a forensic psychologist to tell her how she felt or describe how she expressed her grief or didn’t express it. It didn’t take a forensic psychologist to notice that she was in tremendous pain. It was clearly evident. Like Henry, her eyes looked vacantly at the coffin. She couldn’t listen to the empty words of comfort from the priest.
Then it was all over. There was nothing left to do.
John turned to Helen. He could see the immense heartache that was prevalent throughout her entire body. Like Will, he stood holding an umbrella. John silently closed the small gap that separated them and let the umbrella protect her from the downpour. She couldn’t take her eyes away from the grave. He saw her chin tighten, the way that he remembered it did when she was upset and on the brink of tears. Then her jaw quivered.
“Helen,” John whispered softly as he moved his hand to her shoulder.
Helen pulled away just as his hand was about to touch her. With downcast eyes, she turned and walked away from the grave, from her daughter’s grave.
The silence of the room was deafening as Helen sat with her daughter. Her dead daughter. Her heart broke agonizingly with every utterance or thought of that phrase. ‘She’s gone, Magnus. Ashley’s dead. There was nothing anyone could’ve done.’ She couldn’t bring herself to say it out loud but no matter how many times she denied it, Ashley lay here in front of her. Lifeless. Sitting with Ashley, she looked innocently asleep, and it was only the stark paleness of her cheeks that screamed at Helen that she would never wake up. Helen wanted to reach out and caress the cheek of her little girl but she stopped herself, fearing that if she did, the warmth of her own hand would burn the cold skin of her daughter. Her hand, instead, hovered above her pale skin. Helen’s heart broke at the sight of her daughter like this. To see such a young, vibrant and obstinate girl lying here now was unthinkable, it was unbearable. Ashley lay so silent, so still. Helen thought through all of her twenty-short years and Ashley had never once been this soundless. She missed the sound of her voice, the sound of her footsteps already.
‘Mom’ was the last thing Ashley ever said to her whilst still in the thrall of the Cabal. In a moment of clarity, her Ashley whispered it before her eyes glowed, indicating that whatever control the Cabal exerted on her was back. Then it hit Helen. She would never again hear Ashley call her ‘Mom’; regardless of whether or not it was in a bright and breezy manner, an angry tone or a general voice. She would never again here the sound of her voice. Yes, she could watch videos but it wasn’t the same, nothing could replace the sound of her daughter’s voice. She will never hug her daughter again, wrap her arms around her or spend another ‘Midnight at the Oasis’ with Ashley. Everything that they had as mother and daughter was gone.
Silently, Helen took out the final accessory to bury Ashley with. The thought of putting her daughter in a wooden box and then putting it in the ground caused every part of her body to cry out in pain. Her eyes filled with tears as her breathing hitched with sorrow. With shaking hands and ever so gently, Helen placed the necklace that she had given her on her eighteenth birthday around her neck where it belonged; the one that the Cabal took from her, the one that she had been wearing the day they turned her against her family.
“Ashley,” Helen whispered in a voice that was barely there.
Helen’s body quaked with silent sobs, her lungs hitching with each shallow breath. Her eyes quickly became blurred with mounting tears. Her daughter was gone. Dead. The child she had carried for nine months, endured the agony of labour for to bring into the world and raised for twenty-three years was gone forever. She closed her eyes and the dams burst and the tears flowed freely down her face, dripping from her jaw. She couldn’t hold it back. She spilled out her heart with every agonising sob. Every tear that fell was for her daughter, her child, her best friend.
She couldn’t believe that she was going to bury her daughter.
Heartbroken and grieving, Helen fixed Ashley’s fringe on her forehead before gently resting her head on her shoulder and letting her tears continue to fall.
It took Helen a long time to decide on what Ashley should wear. It took her almost forever to summon up the courage to go into her daughter's bedroom, to go through her drawers and wardrobe and find her something to wear. She thought it would have cemented what had happened. Questions ran rife in her mind; Should it be a proper outfit or Ashley’s favourite or Helen’s favourite for Ashley? She didn’t know and she couldn’t ponder these questions with anybody else. She was completely alone again. The Cabal has taken away the only thing that she truly lived for.
“Helen!” John called after her as she furiously trampled through the graveyard to the car.
She didn’t reply as she continued on. She didn’t want to listen to any more heartrending thoughts of sympathy and condolence. They didn’t mean a thing to her. Her daughter was gone and nothing was ever going to bring her back. She didn’t want to be around anyone. The last thing she wanted was to talk to the man that gave her their daughter in the first place. Helen didn’t want to speak to him. She knew that if she looked at him, she would see Ashley, she would see all that she had to go through to protect Ashley from his murderous ways and she would ultimately see the night that they created her. She didn’t want to see it. It would only add to the agony she was already being overwhelmed with.
“Helen,” he called more forcefully as Will and Henry and the other mourners dissipated from her grave and heading for their cars.
Again, Helen refused to listen.
In a quick flash, he stood in front of her, blocking her escape to the car and forgetting about the umbrella he dropped as he teleported. She walked straight into him before recoiling back.
“Get out of my way, John,” she seethed looking up with him from her eyes, not raising her head.
“I won’t.”
“John - move,” Helen repeated determinedly clenching her teeth as the rain continued to pelt down on them.
“Helen,” he tried stepping closer.
Helen jumped back again, withdrawing away and warning him, “Don’t!”
“Helen.”
“I don’t want to hear it - least of all from you.”
“I wasn’t your fault.”
Helen’s features immediately tightened and her heart stopped.
“I told you that I don’t want to hear it. Now. Get. Out. Of my way.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” John replied tenderly and purposefully.
“I mean it, John, get out of my way,” Helen barked as she tried to get around him.
As Helen moved to each side going from left to right, John blocked her. He stopped her at every dodge. Every direction that she tried, he was there. Rain blinded her eyes and her hair fell in front of her face and her whole body cried out for rest but she continued to try to get past him. She didn’t want to talk to him. She didn’t want to cry anymore. She knew that if she did, she didn’t know when she’d stop. If she could stop. The pain that she was feeling was infinitely more devastating than when she lost John. Ashley had been her baby, her little girl, her teenager, her daughter and her entire family.
Helen was inconsolable.
If she didn’t want to talk to John, so be it. Why couldn’t he understand that? Why was that so hard for him to understand? It had all been her fault. Solely her fault. Why couldn’t he see that? Why was he so determined to lie to her? She had let Ashley and Henry go into the Cabal stronghold by themselves alone, without any backup. It had been her decision. She had said yes to them. They wouldn’t have gone if she had refused them permission. It had been her decision alone. Why hadn’t she been more forceful and stayed with her initial refusal to let them go? If she had remained resolute Ashley would never have been caught and subject to their testing and ultimately turned into their first line of defence. Her daughter would be alive and well had it not been for her. Why did she agree when she knew the risks?
Aggravation and fury increasingly boiled within her, with guilty evermore stirring the pot. She wasn’t up to playing John’s game any longer. Her patience was at boiling point. Her eyes went ablaze with anger and her hands clenched into fists. She pushed fiercely against him, trying to throw him out of her way but he remained stoic and strong in front of her, refusing to let her move away from him. Rage now accompanied her frustration.
“Get out of my way!” Helen screamed harshly as she continually struggled against him and pushing him away.
“She’s gone, Helen.”
“Don’t you dare say that!”
“Ashley’s gone.”
“Don’t you ever say her name!” Helen growled as she pushed him away with all her strength.
Recovering, John closed the gap between them and firmly enveloped Helen in his arms, “Ashley’s gone. She’s gone, Helen.”
In his arms, she struggled. She fists pummelled his chest furiously, wishing that he would let her go but she remained in his hold.
“Let me go, John!” she cried over and over as her energy waned.
Gradually, Helen’s ferocity lessened and she collapsed to the ground, her legs buckling from underneath her. John gently lowered her to the sodden ground, with his arms still around her.
“I never should have let her go,” Helen cried in a whisper, “It’s my fault. It’s all my fault. I never should have let her go. Ashley’s dead because of me. I killed our daughter. It’s my fault.”
John rested his head gently on her soaking tresses as he held her. He held her as her control left her, leaving her overwhelmed and completely grief-stricken. She had never planned on burying her daughter at twenty-three. She wanted her daughter to live a long and fulfilled life. Not just twenty-three years. Helen’s body became racked with shattering sobs and painful cries of desperation. Her daughter was gone. Sitting on the ground, Helen leaned against his chest as his arms held her close, protecting her from the rain. He couldn’t protect her from her anguish so the rain was the next best thing. It was all he could do. He had only been in Ashley’s life for a split-second. He didn’t really know her. He never got the chance. All he knew was that her name was Ashley, she was twenty-three, she had blonde hair and blue eyes, she was his daughter and that Helen had raised her beautifully. He had heard people say that they would all see Ashley again in Heaven. It wasn’t so simple for Helen. She didn’t know when she would die. By all rights they all should have died a long time ago but yet, here they remained. Helen didn’t know when she would see her daughter again in the celestial After. She took little comfort in it when all she wanted was to have her daughter by her side and not overlooking her. Her grief-stricken cries broke the whirling hiss of the wind which carried it to the ears of those around her. Their hearts fell over heartbeats in their chests, having never heard such a heartwrenching sound come from Helen Magnus.
Gradually, little by little, Helen’s body became still as her body tired with her sobs.
Suddenly, Helen pushed him away. He stumbled back in his crouch, retaining his balance. Helen scrambled to her feet. She looked down at him as he stood up to standing. Her jaw quivered and she quickly walked past him and to her car, not saying a word or looking back as she wiped her tears from her face and pulled her completely soaked coat close as if nothing had happened. Helen shut John out after letting him in. Solemnly, John followed.
Once all in their cars, they drove on. They left the graveyard, the cemetery.
They left Ashley.
They left Ashley Patricia Magnus in her bed.
They went back to their lives. Magnus left Helen behind, forever becoming Magnus. The Doctor. The scientist. She was no longer Helen the mother. Magnus. Doctor Magnus. Was her name and who she was.
I miss you
Miss you so bad
I don't forget you
Oh it's so sad.
I hope you can hear me
I remember it clearly.
The day you slipped away
Was the day i found
It, won't be the same
Now you're gone [Now you're gone]
There you go [There you go]
Somewhere I can't bring you back
Now you're gone [Now you're gone]
There you go [There you go]
Somewhere you're not coming back
~ Avril Lavigne 'Slipped Away'
N.B. I know that it isn't mentioned in the show if Ashley has a middle name of not but I made it up. In an RP with halfbloodme, I used it and it seems to work.
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