Fic request #2
For grav_ity, who requested:
Helen Magnus and John Druitt: It was always a matter of blood.
Blood bound them together, though not in the most obvious manner. They were not blood kin by any means, and yet, the blood they had taken into their bodies was just as binding. The blood of the vampires had changed them in different ways, and yet they were also the same.
Helen could still see blood in her dreams - the Source Blood in the syringe, slowly being pressed into her vein by Nikola, the blood of Molly splashing all over the alley after John slashed her throat. For over a century she had been so certain that the first had caused the second, that their desire to push the boundaries of the unknown had unleashed a monster (monsters?) on the world.
Then there was Ashley’s blood. The Magnus blood ran true in her, yes. Even when Ashley was an adult, Helen could see traces of her own mother, habits that Helen herself had never exhibited but had instead passed on to her daughter. That aside, though, John’s blood made its presence known too. Ashley’s instincts, her almost unnatural skill in the hunt - that was the Druitt inheritance.
And it was that inheritance that the Cabal had ruthlessly warped to suit their purposes, costing Ashley her life.
John still struggled with the guilt of that, Helen knew. Even if he had only ever spoken of it that one time, when she herself had been consumed with rage, she knew he still felt it. Whenever she caught him looking at the framed photo of Ashley on her desk, those emotions filled his eyes again.
Blood. It was always a matter of blood.
Helen Magnus and John Druitt: It was always a matter of blood.
Blood bound them together, though not in the most obvious manner. They were not blood kin by any means, and yet, the blood they had taken into their bodies was just as binding. The blood of the vampires had changed them in different ways, and yet they were also the same.
Helen could still see blood in her dreams - the Source Blood in the syringe, slowly being pressed into her vein by Nikola, the blood of Molly splashing all over the alley after John slashed her throat. For over a century she had been so certain that the first had caused the second, that their desire to push the boundaries of the unknown had unleashed a monster (monsters?) on the world.
Then there was Ashley’s blood. The Magnus blood ran true in her, yes. Even when Ashley was an adult, Helen could see traces of her own mother, habits that Helen herself had never exhibited but had instead passed on to her daughter. That aside, though, John’s blood made its presence known too. Ashley’s instincts, her almost unnatural skill in the hunt - that was the Druitt inheritance.
And it was that inheritance that the Cabal had ruthlessly warped to suit their purposes, costing Ashley her life.
John still struggled with the guilt of that, Helen knew. Even if he had only ever spoken of it that one time, when she herself had been consumed with rage, she knew he still felt it. Whenever she caught him looking at the framed photo of Ashley on her desk, those emotions filled his eyes again.
Blood. It was always a matter of blood.