It was rare for Helen Magnus to actually fall asleep. As Will had so brilliantly put it: she kept an eye on the ranch. Fatigue did catch up to the Victorian woman eventually. It led her falling asleep on the couch in her office. Merely a cat nap. Perhaps it would have been longer if it the dreams she had were truly happy ones.
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cut for tl;dr/spoilers. warning: may induce heartbreak. )
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Except both James and Ashley were dead because of her mistakes. And the head of the Tokyo Sanctuary. And New Deli. And Moscow. And Clara Griffin.
"John." She let out a sob as she said his name. "Ashley... she..."
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"I know." He said, knowing that the words would be too much. "I know, Helen. I don't know what this place is or what it does to people, but could it be a lie?" He could feel it in his bones. It was as much the truth as anything else unbelievable in their lives. He was grasping at straws, trying to give Helen hope.
One hand tentatively moved to rest on her back. There was an awkwardness in his show of comfort. To part of him, this was second nature, but he wasn't ever sure when he had overstep his boundaries.
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"In all your years, are you so blind to the possibility of more than your mind gives you?" He released her and turned his back, walking around the room. "Damnit, Helen, I've seen it to. That world is not one I'd wish to return to, but here, here we have a chance. We can make the difference."
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At the moment she wasn't thinking sense or even logic. That base had crumbled when Ashley threw herself onto the EM shield. Her world wasn't the same knowing her daughter was dead.
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He stepped closer to her. "You aren't thinking clearly, and you shouldn't. This is your daughter." He swallowed the offending possessive word our and continued, "But I will not let you give up."
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"It won't bring her back, John!"
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"What would you have me do? Sit and idle away while you run the numbers. I am not a patient man, Helen, and I will not dilly dally when there are actions that could be taken."
His words were harsh, but there was pain in his expression. It was all he knew to do. It wouldn't help - even he recognized that, but taking action was the only help he could offer. It was all he could hope to do for any of them.
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"There may be no one to answer for these deeds, but I will not be content with assuming that is the case. If there are guilty parties in this place, I will find them, and I will question them. And when there is nothing more for them to give me, they will pay. No innocent blood shall be spilled, but I make no promise for the guilty."
He knew it would only lead to more fighting, but she couldn't see that this was what he needed to do. John walked past her, making his way out of her quarters, and presumably back to his own. In fact, John planned to forgo his bed in lieu of the rooftop. A bit of air would do him some good.
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