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She’s lost a lot of people in her long lifetime. Both her parents. Two world wars. Lovers, friends, and colleagues. Being a doctor, she’s been even more exposed to the trauma of death.
But none have ever hurt like this.
None have ever felt like this. A swirling vortex of rage and grief that threatens to consume her.
She tries to hold it together, like she always does, like she has to. But the grief tears at her soul until she feels like it will rip her apart.
She needs to...to something. She’s not even sure what anymore. She just needs it to stop before she goes crazy. Or maybe she already has? She’s not sure anymore.
***
The commotion in the east wing draws both Henry and Will to the normally abandoned section of the Sanctuary. Both come carrying stunners, sure that the screaming and crashing mean an escaped abnormal.
The door to the room where the commotion is originating is sort of half cracked open. Through the gap they can see furniture flying, the wood cracking and splintering as it collides with the ground or a wall. The shrieking and heavy breathing sounds like a feral abnormal on the loose.
They both charge their stunners, preparing to subdue whatever creature has holed itself inside. Until the ‘creature’ stalks past the crack in the doorway and it’s not a creature at all, but actually Magnus.
But no Magnus either one of them has ever seen. Her normally pristine pants suit is ascue. The suit jacket is undone, one sleeve ripped at the shoulder. Her button up shirt is half untucked, a few of the buttons missing. Her pants are wrinkled and dusty, like she’s been wiping her hands on them over and over. Her hair looks like it is supposed to be in a ponytail, but half of it has come out. Her face is flushed, her hair sticking to her forehead and neck in awkward clumps.
She grabs something to the right of the door, both boys ducking in the hopes that she didn’t see them. But their fears are unfounded for the next second there is a guttural scream and then the sound of something new shattering.
“Maybe we should…” Will starts to say.
Another scream and another smash.
“I’m not going in there,” Henry whispers.
They look at each other, neither sure what to do.
Before they can debate it further, someone else suddenly appears behind them.
“What’s happening here?” Nikola casually asks, making them both jump.
“Magnus has gone a little…” Henry tries to explain.
He winces when there’s yet another scream and more crashing.
“Hmmm, I best go check on her,” Nikola muses, pushing past both of them to waltz straight into the line of fire.
***
She turns on him the second he walks in. Her eyes are feral, her nostrils flaring as she huffs and puffs deep breaths of air.
“You’re scaring the children, Helen,” he tells her calmly.
“My child is DEAD,” she screams at him, grabbing a broken chair leg and flinging it at his head.
Nikola dodges it easily, starting to circle her carefully. She turns with him, always keeping her eyes on him and never letting him see her back. Each rotation brings him a little closer to her.
“What am I supposed to do now?” she half yells half sobs.
He reaches a hand out to her, not quite close enough to touch but hoping she’ll close the distance. She doesn’t. She bats his hand away rather forcefully, snarling at him.
“Don’t touch me,” she growls.
He retracts his arm, but maintains his slow advancement.
“I can’t-” she starts to say, shaking her head a little bit. “She’s not-”
She chokes a little on the last one, not able to finish the sentence.
“She’s not coming back,” Nikola finishes, finally close enough to be standing right in front of her.
“Oh god, Niko,” Helen sobs. “She’s gone. She’s really gone.”
She looks up at him, meeting his gaze finally. Her eyes are big blue orbs swimming in welling tears and her bottom lip trembles ominously
A sob breaks through, her hand coming up to try to stop it’s escape. But it’s too late.
Nikola catches her as her knees give out, her grief breaking over her in a sudden overwhelming wave. He sinks them slowly to the ground, holding her while she clutches blindly at his suit jacket.
Her body shakes with the force of her sobs, her face pressed against his neck so that he can feel the wetness against his skin.
They sit there together, he’s not sure for how long. He doesn’t say anything and neither does she. Finally the sobbing seems to die down. Pulling away just a little, he glances down and sees she’s cried herself to sleep in his arms.
Shifting her ever so gently, he gathers her into his arms and rises off the floor. Stepping carefully around the debris, he picks his way to the door and nudges it open with his foot.
He’s glad to see that the children have dispersed. Helen deserves privacy in her grief. He’ll put her to bed, sitting close by just in case she needs him.
When he gets to her room and tries to tuck her into bed, she wakes just enough to clutch at him tighter.
“Stay with me, Niko?” she begs in a tiny little broken voice that breaks his heart.
“As long as you need,” he agrees, climbing in the bed beside her.
He’s not planning on going anywhere. She needs him now, probably more than she ever has in the past. He spent 60 years away from her, he’ll be damned if he leaves her again.