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London, 1872
"You look lovely in the moonlight."
Nikola's words carried, her shiver more because he had spoken than due to the chill night air. She hadn't expected him to be here, on the roof of her father's laboratory and home. Helen had thought to come here to be alone. "Nikola," she shook her head, the wind and movement pulling curls from her braid to whip about her face. "I didn't expect you."
"Do you ever?" He was nearly casual in his stance, inspecting the watch that dangled from the fob on his waistcoat. "Expect me that is? It would seem that you never expect me. Hasn't our history shown that?"
"I don't know what you mean," she insisted, turning away from him to look at the skyline once again. It was a lie and a familiar one, Helen comfortable in her prevarication. She knew of Tesla's affections for her and chose to ignore them. "We're colleagues and friends Nikola. I don't know why I wouldn't ever be expecting you."
In turning, she had missed seeing him move. Helen stiffened when she realised he was behind her, his fingers touching a tendril of her hair.
"He's a problem."
Helen flinched from his touch, but only a moment after he'd touched her. The pause wouldn't be noticeable to someone other than Tesla who's senses were enhanced by his vampire nature. "Who's a problem?"
"Please Helen," his knuckle brushed her cheek, "you know who I mean. He's a problem."
Her fingers curled into the roughness of the stone ledge. Old and weathered, a gargoyle sat on the cornice mere inches from her. Beyond that London was laid out, lights fading at this late hour. The city was mostly quiet -- a strange thing to behold. All of it was lost to her in that moment. "I don't know what you mean."
"John-"
Helen cut him off. "John is fine. Stressed, yes, but can you blame him?" She turned to Tesla, knowing that her case was a poor one. "It has been difficult for us all to adjust."
"Adjustment," Tesla scoffed, his laugh derisive. "If he were simply adjusting we would all manage. He is killing, Helen, and you know it."
She did know it. Watson had confirmed it, and there was little way that she could deny the evidence that she had seen. Yet, there were things she was not prepared for. Things she was not prepared to admit.
The actions of her fiance was one of those. Nikola was another.
"I need time," she insisted to him, "no longer than a day or so Nikola." Then she would have to decide. What would she do with her father's programs. How would she survive? How would she confront John about his actions. Despicable though they were she still carried deep affection for him within her.
However it was she managed, Helen knew would be strong. More and more she saw she could depend on no one.
An invaluable lesson. One she would have rather left unlearned.
Seattle, early 2009
"Your cellar is empty."
Helen breathed deeply, reminding herself that Nikola was only being... Nikola. She refused to look up at him. "It's the second time you've emptied it, I believe."
"Is it? I've lost count," he spoke nonchalantly, in that way that we always did. As if nothing affected him and everything was beneath him. Or perhaps that was Helen's own bias and frustration leeching into her perceptions.
Helen bristled as she looked up at him, her annoyance plain in her eyes. "Of course you would have. Do you even need to be here still? Haven't you done all you could for us? I believe just yesterday you were trying to tell Henry how he'd be better off in your employ. Do you even have work planned? Projects? Anything to bring him to?"
Tesla frowned, yet that strange hint of amusement still lingered, "is that how it is going to be? Dismissed out of hand?"
Helen almost chuckled at his words, "has anything for you ever out of hand? Weren't you the master of controlling things, Nikola?"
"Perhaps not," he looked pleased with himself, strangely so Helen thought. "perhaps by my own making."
"I think," she held his eyes, refusing to let go. Less and less she found herself in the mood for games, and certainly not from one she had known so long. She had forgiven him much over the years, always putting it off to a long friendship. Yet how much could one forgive? "It is always your own making."
London 1874
"You can't say I didn't try to warn you."
His smile was frustrating. Nearly too much to deal with the moment, the self-satisfied way that he looked at her. The way that he tried to claim knowledge of John's downfall, a spiral none of them had wanted to see. He had made his warnings, yes, but only after others had confirmed it for her.
"Of course I couldn't," she spoke sharply, meeting his eyes in a defiant manner. "Had you been more precise in your warnings-"
"Please, Helen," he cut her off, not letting her finish her thoughts. "Would you have heard them even if I had spoken more explicitly about my concerns? I think not."
As much as she wished to discount what he said, Helen could not. "It is difficult to hear things about those one cares about," she allowed, after a moment's pause. She chose to ignore his closeness to her, thinking he would step away in respect of all that had happened. Out of respect for her.
He did not, instead moving closer again. Again touching her hair, the edge of his finger tracing the soft edge of a curl. "It is always difficult to think poorly of someone one cares about."
His voice had was deeper than its usual. It was enough for Helen to notice in her state, even were it not for his actions that amplified it. "Nikola," she ducked her head, unable to meet his eyes, her voice still firm as she moved away, "not now."
"Fine," his voice sharpened, the fall of his hand as abrupt as the change in his tone, "but there will be a time, Helen, that you no longer have an excuse."
Seattle, Present Day
She had never told him that it wasn't simply an excuse. That Druitt's betrayal had simply cut her too deep. The ideal of trusting another so soon -- especially when that other had so openly been the rival for her attentions -- came too soon. The two had been in competition for her affections for so long that she had nearly come to take it for granted. Helen had always preferred John, and that had just as likely always been plain. She found it hard to remember now, so far removed from that time. Yet, when Druitt had gone dark, when his deeper tendencies had come to the forefront, she could not help but wonder if she had chosen the right man.
"You realise that I am of no interest to you now."
Nikola was fond of telling her that. Of telling her how he could do little for the Sanctuary now that he was nothing more than mundane. Helen always scoffed.
"Nikola, you've been alive for over 150 years and yet you think that you're of no interest?" Even having lost his abilities, there were things about him that could be studied, never mind his intelligence. "You hold more knowledge inside of your stubborn head than most. You're a brilliant creator and inventor. Of course you are of interest."
And yet, he refused her attempts to placate him. Her attempts to convince him to stay.
"Should I stay to be studied?" Tesla raised an eyebrow as he uncorked the bottle he'd been enjoying. Sprawled out over one of Helen's couches, it was all she could do to not pull him up by his ear. "Hardly. And as of yet I have no answer to my problem, even with all of the Sanctuary's formindable resources at hand."
If only it were just a problem. Nikola had created a device that none of them could outsmart. He was merely human, and a part of Helen responded to that. A deep part of her wished for that, to be able to set aside this burden. She knew that she would never have the bravery to use his device. At least, not as of yet. Another twenty, thirty years? All could change.
She stood suddenly, ignoring the papers on her desk as she stalked toward him, her frustration plain. "Is it so bad to be merely human?"
He glowered, looking up at her in annoyance. "It is."
"At least now you can get drunk," she pointed out, very nearly sounding amused. It was a change, her amusement and his annoyance. A part of her enjoyed that. Another part of her thought of those she had lost. Watson. Ashley. Druitt whom she could never look at in that same way again, even knowing his affliction was cured by Tesla's strange experimentation. She refused to lose Nikola as well. "Surely that is some comfort."
Tesla's eyes were wary as he stood, the bottle still in his hand. He didn't want to admit she was right, nor did he seem to want to give away any advantage he might have. "I am sure that I could find better comfort," he allowed finally.
"Could you?" Her smile was nearly playful. "You will surely have to tell me about it, then. About the better comfort you could find, that is, the better place you could go to."
There was something in her eyes. A hint of something that had changed and she knew that he saw it. Slowly, he saw it, cocking his head. "Yes. Perhaps I will."