Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Six months. Six months without her, and he’s somehow still breathing.

Not for long, though.

The explosion flashes before his eyes even now. He’s lying in some godforsaken ice cave freezing to death, but he can feel the heat of the flames searing through his skin. He grimaces as the memory resurfaces, his lips twisting as if he can still taste the ash and smoke clouding the air.

It serves him right, though, to be reliving this now. His last thoughts will be of her last moments, of that fateful day when he failed to save her. It’s only fitting that he be haunted by it when he can no longer save himself.

I’m sorry, Helen, he thinks. I’m so sorry.

But sorry won’t bring her back, nor will it rescue him from the punishment he deserves. So instead of fighting against the pull of sleep, Nikola lets his eyes slip closed, welcoming the cold embrace of death as it descends upon him.  

Not much can harm or kill a vampire, of course. But that doesn’t mean he’s entirely invincible. After the destruction of the Old City Sanctuary, he and the children went into hiding, trying to regroup and figure out their next move. But while the others seemed to find some solace in continuing Helen’s work without her, Nikola quickly discovered that scientific distraction was no longer proving to be an effective remedy for grief. If anything, his scientific pursuits only reminded him of her - of every late-night study session at Oxford, of every expedition they’d been on, of every crazy experiment she’d scolded him for. It was then that he realized that being Nikola Tesla, genius scientist, paled in comparison to being Nikola Tesla, friend to Helen Magnus. Anyone with a brain and a thirst for discovery could be a genius scientist. But only a precious few could be counted among Helen’s friends. She’d taken him under her wing at Oxford, rescued him from the ostracization of their peers, and encouraged him in a way no one else had before. Without her he wouldn’t have become the man they wrote about in the history books. Without her, everything else was meaningless.

Without her, his life was empty.

So he eventually left, without so much as a goodbye. He could no longer stand seeing the pity in the others’ eyes, the silent knowledge that although their grief was great, it was far greater for the man who’d known and loved her for over a century. Deep down he knew they cared, but the more that care grew, the more it made him angry. Not because he didn’t appreciate it, but because he knew he didn’t deserve it. Back at Oxford, when Helen had first gone out of her way to be his friend, he’d made a silent promise to always look after her, even if they had to part ways. But he’d failed to save her. He didn’t deserve pity or compassion, not when he’d broken that promise. He didn’t deserve anything. Especially not his own life.

That attitude led him to roam around the world, seeking out dangerous endeavors. He hoped that one day he might find a weakness that his vampire physiology would be unable to conquer. It took months of reckless undertakings, each one more perilous than the last, but he finally managed to meet his match. He decided to track a rare ice dragon somewhere in northern Norway. It was a fixture in local legends which most scientists believed was nothing more than a myth. Sensing an appropriate challenge, Nikola took it upon himself to look for the creature alone, venturing far enough into the Arctic hellscape that the cold was actually starting to affect him.

The cold itself wasn’t what did him in, though. He made a wrong turn somewhere and ended up falling into a frozen cavern, which just so happened to be the dragon’s lair. To his surprise, the reptilian demon had no interest in eating him. Instead, it was so spooked by his sudden appearance that it puffed up like an oversized porcupine and shot some sort of quill out of its tail before running away with a terrified squawk. That quill - a foot-long monstrosity resembling a cross between a tooth and an icicle - struck him in the leg, releasing a potent venom that instantly immobilized him. Minutes after that, the dizziness and nausea set in, and minutes after that, Nikola started to feel colder than he’d ever felt in his life. Somehow, the venom could counteract his natural ability to adjust to the harsh climate. It was at that point that he knew he was done for, and to be quite honest, the revelation was nothing less than a relief.

So here he now lies, at the bottom of the cavern that is soon to become his final resting place. His body is shaking, but he’s so numb he hardly feels anything anymore. It’s nice, that numbness. Comforting, even. It reminds him of how he felt the last time he was minutes away from death, bleeding out in Afina’s tomb while Helen scrambled to find a way to save him. But Helen isn’t here anymore, and she isn’t coming to save him. Soon he’ll take his last breath on this earth, and justice will be served. As she died by fire, he’ll die by ice. Then at last the scales will be even.

”Nikola!”

The shout sounds muffled, as if he’s hearing it underwater. Against his better judgment, Nikola opens his eyes. A blurred figure is approaching him, dressed in full winter gear. His heart sinks in despair.

No, he thinks, trying to squirm away. No, I don’t want to be rescued. I don’t deserve to be rescued. Please just let me die.

“Nikola!” the voice shouts again.

This time he recognizes it.

He isn’t sure until the figure crouches down in front of him. But the minute he sees her face, all doubt disappears.

”H-Helen?”

She starts yelling again. Or, at least he thinks she does. It’s hard to tell given that everything still sounds like his ears are stuffed with cotton. Her mouth is moving rapidly, her expression is a picture of pure terror, and she’s gripping his arm so tightly that he can feel her touch despite the numbness taking hold of him.

”Nikola,” she repeats, giving him a little shake. “Nikola, you have to stay with me.”

This isn’t real. It can’t be. Helen is dead. He’s sure of it. This has to be a hallucination concocted by his dying mind to help him cope with his final moments. Or perhaps he’s already dead, and this is an unholy mirage sent by the devil himself to torture him for all eternity. The woman he couldn’t save, now failing to save him. A moment doomed to repeat itself time and time again until he descends into madness. It’s a fitting punishment, honestly. He couldn’t have picked a better sentence for himself.

”Nikola, don’t you dare close your eyes!”

Nikola’s eyelids start to droop again. What would it matter if he takes a little nap? He’s probably dead anyway. When he wakes up, he’ll just relive this same scene over and over on an endless loop. This is the end. This is his fate. He might as well resign himself to it.

”Nikola, you bastard, I swear if you die on me like this I will find you in the afterlife and kill you again myself - “

Another voice - this one low, gruff, and unfamiliar - interrupts not-Helen’s ranting. A third, younger voice joins in. Nikola can’t make out exactly what they’re saying, but they seem to be having a discussion about moving him. A minute later hands are rolling him onto a sled of some kind and fastening what feels like ropes around him.

”Stay with me, Nikola,” not-Helen says again, stroking his face. “We’re going to get you out of here.”

”No,” he groans, trying in vain to pull away from her.

”Shh,” she murmurs. “It’s going to be all right.”

And then, before he can utter another word of protest, the sled jerks forward, carrying him away from his would-be grave.

Chapter Text

“How is he?”

Helen sighs. It’s been several hours since they rescued Nikola from the ice, and after warming him up and pumping him full of fluids, she’s mostly confident that he’s in the clear. The effects of the dragon venom are thankfully temporary, serving only to paralyze and weaken its victims rather than to kill them. Now that she’s removed the nasty quill from Nikola’s leg, his vampiric knack for rapid healing is finally taking over.

But vampire genes won’t do much for his mental state. She has a pretty good idea of what led him to embark on a suicide mission, and the thought of it is making her stomach churn.

”He’s stable,” she says at last, glancing over at her companion.

Anders Byrnison, a broad-shouldered man with a greying beard and piercing blue eyes, nods his head before taking a sip of coffee. “It’s a good thing we found him when he did,” he says gruffly. “I don’t know how much longer he would’ve lasted.”

Helen returns the nod. Anders and his daughter Freyja occupy a small outpost in this area of northern Norway, near the edge of dragon territory. It’s the home of the Isaz Wyrm, or Scandinavian Ice Dragon, a species long believed to be no more than a monster from local folklore. But Helen has known about its existence for decades, and she’s spent some of that time trying to catch a glimpse of the elusive creature. Twenty years ago, she met Anders on one of her many expeditions to the area and quickly befriended him after learning that he was somewhat of an expert on the subject. He and his daughter Freyja have now dedicated their lives to studying the species, although they themselves have rarely been able to make contact.

Freyja, a younger, blonder copy of her father, then walks in from the kitchen carrying a tray of havrekjeks. Helen offers the young woman a smile and takes one of the oatcakes, grateful to have something to eat. “Thank you,” she says, taking a bite. “You didn’t have to go through all this trouble.”

Freyja shakes her head, her golden braid shifting with the movement. She places the tray on a small table in front of the fireplace. “I don’t mind,” she says, sitting on the couch next to Helen. “You’ve had a long day.”

More like a long year, Helen muses. So much has happened in that time, but the last thing she was expecting was for Nikola’s little escapade to be the most harrowing part of the experience.

”I didn’t know Mr. Tesla was interested in the Isaz Wyrm,” Freyja continues, clearly trying to fill the silence.

He’s not, Helen thinks, although she won’t say it out loud. “He, um, learned about it from me,” she mumbles, pausing to take a sip of her tea. “I suppose some of my enthusiasm rubbed off on him.”

”But maybe not your expertise,” Freyja goes on. “Anyone who knows about the wyrm knows how dangerous it is to go after it alone.”

At that, Anders clears his throat, prompting Freyja to blush. “I’m sorry,” she says quietly. “I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Helen shakes her head. “It’s all right,” she replies. “Nikola has always been a bit…reckless.”

”Mmm,” Anders hums from his spot in a nearby armchair. “That’s one way of putting it.”

Helen glances down at her mug, feeling her cheeks burn. Anders and Freyja, like most of her colleagues, only knew fragments of her plan to save the Sanctuary Network by moving it underground. They, like everyone else, presumed her dead after the destruction of her home base. It took three months for her to be certain that her enemies were convinced of her demise. After that time, she began to reach out to her allies again, informing them of the truth. Anders and his daughter were relieved to learn she was alive, but he later admitted to her that both of them had taken her apparent loss quite hard. Freyja, who had grown up looking up to Helen as a mentor, had an especially hard time accepting it. Helen suspects that Anders still harbors some level of resentment towards her for causing his daughter unnecessary suffering, and given his perceptive nature, she’s certain he also has an inkling of how her “death” might have affected Nikola.

Guilt begins to gnaw at her insides, and she takes a large gulp of tea in an attempt to distract herself. “Thank you for helping me find him,” she says after a moment. “I know it was a lot to ask of you, but it means a great deal to me.”

”You mean he means a great deal to you,” Anders remarks. Helen blushes again. Her friend has never been one to mince words.

”Yes,” she admits softly. “He is my oldest friend after all.”

”Mmm,” Anders repeats, lifting his mug to his lips. “A friend.”

Helen’s face flares with heat. Out of the corner of her eye she spies Freyja observing the exchange with rapt interest. “I, um, should probably go check on him,” she splutters, placing her mug on the table and rising to her feet.

Anders nods. “Let us know how he is,” he says, a tiny smirk playing at the edge of his lips.

Helen swallows. “I will,” she replies.

And with that, she flashes them both a smile before walking past the couch and heading into the hallway.

The first room on the right is usually Anders’ room, but he was kind enough to offer it up for Nikola’s use. The man in question is now sleeping in Anders’ bed, cocooned in layers of blankets. Helen tiptoes towards him, wincing when the floorboards creak under her weight. Contrary to popular belief, vampires do sleep, but they’re light sleepers. Given Nikola’s supernatural senses, any slight noise or movement is liable to wake him.

Thankfully, though, Nikola doesn’t stir. Helen figures he’s too exhausted from his ordeal and will likely sleep straight through the night. Still, she exercises caution when she reaches the bed, sitting down slowly so as not to disturb him. She observes him for a moment, watching his chest rise and fall beneath the covers. After his near brush with death, just seeing him breathe is a relief. She recalls the night after his re-vamping, when he passed out in their hotel room once the day’s events caught up with him. Helen was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open, but she forced herself to stay awake just so she could watch him breathe. Every breath was a reminder that he was still alive, still there, still hers. She watched him for hours to be sure that she hadn’t actually lost him and that her mind wasn’t playing tricks on her.

She needs that same reassurance now, perhaps even more than she did back then. A part of her wants to be angry at him for scaring the wits out of her again, but the only anger she can muster up is directed at herself. She knows why he went after the dragon, just as she knows why he’s spent the last six months jumping head-first into every dangerous situation imaginable. This is her fault. Faking her death was necessary, but it came at a cost. It seems she underestimated just how high that cost would be for Nikola.

Helen’s gaze latches onto his face. His head is nestled against a pillow, his perpetually unruly hair still sticking up at odd angles. He looks so peaceful, and Helen can’t help but smile a little. She lifts her hand and runs her fingers through his hair, thinking back to their days at Oxford. After the Source Blood and his first transformation, she would sit with him in his rooms and hold him for hours, stroking his hair in the hopes that it would calm him and help him fall asleep. Unbeknownst to her younger colleagues, Nikola hadn’t taken to his new nature right away. The first few months were agonizing, and he vacillated between sensory overwhelm and fearing that he might hurt someone, particularly her. He eventually came to embrace the benefits of his condition, but in the early days he was terrified of becoming a monster. That, of course, is another source of guilt for her, as so many things are now. She wonders if there will ever be a day when she no longer has anything to atone for, but deep down she knows that day will never come.

Her smile falters. ”I’m so sorry, Nikola,” she whispers, a lump rising in her throat. “I never meant to hurt you.”

At the sound of her voice, Nikola does start to stir. Helen pulls her hand back, hoping that she hasn’t woken him. But a moment later his body wriggles beneath the blankets, and his eyes flutter open.

He squints up at her in confusion. “Where am I?” he asks.

Helen reaches for him again, pressing her palm against his cheek. “Byrnison Outpost,” she says softly. “It’s all right. You’re safe now.”

Nikola blinks, slowly coming to. “Outpost,” he mumbles, as if testing out the word. “That’s interesting.”

Helen frowns and tilts her head at him. “Interesting how?”

Nikola lets out a hollow laugh. “I was expecting you to keep me trapped in that cave.”

Helen freezes. Nikola is fully awake now, but something is clearly wrong. “What are you talking about?” she asks, her stomach twisting into knots. “Nikola, I came to rescue you.”

He laughs again and rolls away from her, turning his head to stare up at the ceiling. “You don’t have to lie to me,” he says. “I know you’re not her.”

Helen swallows. Delirium isn’t listed as one of the side effects of the dragon venom, but maybe the Byrnisons missed that in their research. “Nikola,” she murmurs, “it’s really me. I’m really here.”

At that, Nikola’s head whips back towards her. The sardonic smile is gone now, replaced with a withering glare. “I said, don’t lie to me,” he snarls, a low growl rumbling in the back of his throat.

Helen flinches. “I’m not lying,” she says quietly. “I swear.”

Nikola shakes his head and starts scrambling away from her, tossing the blankets aside as he does so. “No,” he hisses, climbing over the edge of the bed and backing up against the room’s far wall. “You’re not real.”

A surge of desperation wells up inside her. “Nikola,” Helen repeats, rising to her feet. She holds out her hands as if to placate him. “Look, I know you’re confused right now. But believe me when I say, you’re not imagining things. I am here, and I’m very real.”

Nikola shakes his head again. “No,” he chokes out, his voice breaking. “No, you can’t be.”

Slowly, carefully, Helen tries to approach him. “Why not?”

Nikola’s eyes fill with tears. “Because it’s impossible,” he whispers.

”Oh, Nikola - “

“No!” he shouts, backing away from her. “No, whatever you are, you can’t be her. Because the Helen Magnus I know is dead.”

Chapter Text

Over the last century or so, Helen has learned quite a bit about Nikola. She knows things about his life prior to their fateful meeting at Oxford, things that even the most thorough historians are unaware of. Of course, there are still gaps in the story, gaps she’s not sure he’ll ever fill. Nikola has always been reluctant to trust people with such intimate knowledge, even her. But she knows enough to take a guess as to what’s currently going through his mind. She’s witnessed this Nikola before on multiple occasions - an anguished, confused shell of a man who can’t separate fantasy from reality. It pains her every time this version of him resurfaces, but she’s been able to bring him back from the brink before. She can do it now, she just has to be patient. At least, she hopes that’s all it will take.

He’s inching down the wall now, trembling like an animal caught in a trap. Helen forces down the guilt roiling inside her. He wouldn’t be like this if it wasn’t for her, and it’s her responsibility to fix it. “Nikola,” she says softly, tiptoeing towards him. “Just give me your hand. I can prove to you I’m real.”

Nikola just shakes his head and continues backing away from her. “No,” he hisses. “All this proves is that hell is real and that you’ve been sent here to torture me.”

Helen takes another tentative step. “Nikola, you’re not in hell. You’re at Byrnison Outpost, like I told you, and you’re very much alive.”

He seems to consider this for a moment. “Then you’re a hallucination,” he says at last, his jaw tightening. “Just like all the others.”

It’s Helen’s turn to shake her head. “No,” she murmurs, swallowing back the lump in her throat. “This isn’t like Dane.”

She immediately regrets her words. The minute Nikola hears his brother’s name, his eyes flash with a wild, untamed rage. “See this is how I know you’re here to torture me,” he growls, jabbing a finger at her. “It isn’t enough for you to haunt me on your own, you have to go dredging up the past too!”

He then presses his body into a nearby corner, wedging himself in between the wall and the bookcase standing beside it.

Helen blinks back tears. She hates seeing him like this, so terrified and vulnerable, lashing out in a desperate effort to defend himself. “Nikola,” she tries again, still stepping towards him but leaving him an opening just in case he starts to feel cornered and in need of an escape. “I just meant that you’re not hallucinating. I’m really here. I promise.”

He shakes his head once more and wraps his arms around himself. “I don’t believe you.”

She takes a breath. “How can I prove it to you, then?”

His lip curls. “You can’t.”

”But what if I could? Hypothetically speaking?”

”Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing,” he spits. “If you think weaponizing the scientific method against me is going to work, you’re sorely mistaken.”

Helen bites back a groan of frustration. If only he’d let her touch him again, she’s certain she could convince him. But he isn’t going to give in that easily. “What if I tell you something,” she suggests, her voice gentle. “Something only the real Helen Magnus would know.”

Nikola makes a face. “If you’re a figment of my imagination, then you’ll just pull from my memories,” he mutters. “It won’t prove anything.”

Helen grits her teeth, wracking her brain for a solution. This is worse than all the times he’s had stress-induced “visions” of his dead brother. It was easier to get through to him then because logic would eventually win out; he’d figure out there was no way Dane could remain a teenager even decades after his passing. But her “death” is much fresher in his mind, so she’s going to have to find a better workaround.

”How about this, then,” she says. “I tell you something only I would know, and you read me to see if I’m lying.”

His arms relax just a little. “Read you how?”

She takes a breath. “Use your senses,” she replies. “You can feel me, right? Hear my breathing. Sense my heartbeat. If I’m lying then you’ll be able to tell.”

Nikola stares at her for a long moment. “All of that could still be a trick,” he says quietly. “Just a manifestation of my own wishful thinking.”

”Maybe,” Helen murmurs. “Or, maybe, it could be proof that what you’re sensing is real. That I’m really alive and not just a part of you that wishes I was.”

He continues staring at her, his brows still creased in a skeptical frown. But something in his expression shifts, if only slightly. “All right,” he says at last. “I suppose you can give it a shot.”

Helen breathes a sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

Nikola’s frown remains. “Well?”

Helen sifts through her memories, searching for one strong enough to break through Nikola’s barrier of doubt. After a moment, she finally lands on something she thinks might do the trick.

”New York, 1912,” she starts.

Nikola’s resolve cracks. His expression softens just a little, and judging by the surprise in his eyes, Helen can tell he wasn’t expecting this. “You found me among the survivors,” she says quietly. “And you took me in. For as long as I needed to stay.”

He swallows but says nothing. Helen takes that as her cue to go on. “For weeks, I was a wreck. I would cry myself to sleep every night, and on the nights I couldn’t sleep, I’d wake up screaming.”

Against her will, Helen’s arms start to shake. She clenches her hands into fists to ground herself. “I’d never felt so terrified and helpless before,” she continues, her voice wavering. “I could tell you wanted to help me, but you were at a loss for what to do. And I felt so guilty for burdening you when you were so busy with your work…”

She trails off to take a breath. The weight of her memories is dragging her under now, trapping her in a riptide of emotion she knows she can’t escape. “You never said a word, though,” she whispers. “About me inconveniencing you or needing to pull myself together. You just…looked after me. Without expecting anything in return.”

Her eyes are burning now, and she fights back the flood of tears threatening to break free. Across from her, Nikola’s body starts to relax, his expression changing to one of pity and concern. Good, Helen thinks through the haze of her grief. Good, I’m getting through to him.

She presses on. “You’d stay with me. At night, when it was hard for me to sleep. I was so scared of the dark, because it reminded me of being out there in that godforsaken lifeboat, just seeing all the bodies and thinking about how those people would never go home to their families. Thinking that if no one came to rescue us, then I might be next…”

The tears start to fall. Helen sniffs and wipes them away. “But you would hold me while I cried,” she continues, “and you’d try to comfort me whenever I woke up from a nightmare. At first, you’d just reassure me that I was safe and that you wouldn’t leave me alone.” She takes another breath. “But then, eventually, you started telling me stories. Some were about your childhood. Others were fairy tales your mother and siblings told you as a boy. I remembered some of them from Oxford, but a lot of them I’d never heard before. Anyway, I’m not sure why you started telling them, but I suppose you thought they would help calm me down.”

Nikola lowers his arms to his sides. “Did they?” he asks softly.

Helen nods, blinking away more tears. “Yes,” she whispers. “They gave me something else to focus on. Something happy.” She swallows. “After awhile, going to bed didn’t feel so frightening anymore, because I could look forward to your stories instead of dreading the nightmares.”

Nikola eyes her thoughtfully. “I didn’t know that,” he murmurs.

Helen sniffles. “I know,” she says, “but it’s true. After the ship went down, I thought I’d never feel safe again. But you made me feel safe. Every night, when you held me and told me stories, it made me believe that maybe one day I’d be able to get through all the grief and pain as long as you were there to help me.”

Helen wipes her eyes again, and she sees that Nikola’s own eyes are now glistening with tears. Still, he remains pressed up against the wall. She inhales and decides to keep going. “At some point you started telling me stories in Serbian,” she continues. “Again, I don’t know why, but I liked listening to you when you did. It made it feel like you were sharing a part of your life with me, even though you didn’t have to.”

A tiny smile tugs at Nikola’s lips. “I wasn’t sure how much of it you understood.”

Helen can’t help but laugh then. “I was fluent by then, Nikola. You know that.” She sniffles again and goes on. “Anyway, there was one night, when you were finished with some story, that you noticed I was getting tired and you decided to say goodnight. Except when you did, you slipped up and accidentally called me ljubavi.”

Nikola’s face turns pink. “You remember that.”

Helen laughs again. “Yes. I do. And I remember, that when I pulled back to look at you, your face had turned as red as a tomato and you looked like you were going to run straight out of the room.”

He frowns. “I almost did,” he grumbles.

Helen merely smiles at him. “I don’t doubt it,” she says softly. “But then, something stopped you. You started giving me this odd look, and when I asked you what was the matter, you said I was smiling.” She pauses, warmth blossoming in her chest. “It was the first time I’d smiled since you’d taken me in. And it was at that moment that I think we both knew I was going to be all right.”

Silence falls between them. Helen gazes into Nikola’s eyes, quietly begging him to see sense. For a moment, he simply continues frowning at her. But then, slowly, his expression eases into something different. Something more like longing. He wants to believe her. Helen takes a step forward.

To her relief, Nikola doesn’t try to run. He just keeps staring at her, his eyes mapping her face as if he’ll find the truth written there. Helen takes another step. Then another. After one final step, she’s close enough to touch him. She draws in a breath and reaches for his hand.

He flinches, but only a little. Helen lifts his hand and brings it up to her neck, gently pressing his fingers against her pulse point. “Well?” she asks softly. “Am I telling the truth?”

Nikola meets her gaze. His eyes betray a tempest of emotions, all jumbled together in maelstrom Helen can’t read. But then, a flicker of understanding cuts through the storm, and she knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that he finally believes her.

”Helen?”

His voice is so small it makes her heart ache. She nods, still keeping his hand pressed against her neck. “Yes,” she whispers. “It’s really me.”

Once again, Nikola’s eyes fill with tears. Helen feels his hand start to shake. “Helen,” he repeats, as if it’s the only thing he can bring himself to say.

Helen nods once more. “Yes, it’s me,” she says. “I’m here.”

Nikola’s chest starts to heave. Whether from shock or relief or both, Helen doesn’t know. But she doesn’t have time to contemplate that, for his knees suddenly buckle underneath him. She cries out, lunging forward to grab him before he hits the floor.

Chapter Text

”Nikola! Nikola, it’s okay.”

Nikola clutches Helen’s arms as she tries to help him stand. “It’s okay,” she says again, more softly this time. “Look, why don’t I help you sit down?”

He nods, unable to say anything else. Helen lifts him to his feet, wraps her arm around him, and leads him to a small couch in front of the bookcase. He collapses onto the cushions, but it takes him a few seconds to convince himself to let go of her.

She’s alive, he thinks, the shock of it reverberating through his mind. She’s been alive all this time.

Once he’s settled, Helen sits down next to him and lays a hand on his arm. “Are you all right?” she asks gently.

It takes him a moment before he realizes that she’s checking his pulse. “I’m fine,” he croaks.

Helen frowns, her eyes roaming over him in that scrutinizing way of hers that’s equal parts annoying and flattering. “Are you sure?”

Nikola bites back a grimace. He’s not sure. Not really. How is he supposed to respond to finding out that his best friend, his only confidant, his most trusted ally, the love of his life, and the axis on which his world revolves, faked her death? In a single moment, that world was shattered, only to be rebuilt again after months of him wallowing in a pit of misery. A part of him is aching to touch her, to pull her into his arms and hold her so tightly that he’ll never lose her again. Another part, though, is simmering with indignation. She was alive this whole time, in hiding presumably, and she never bothered to tell him? For the past six months she’s kept to the shadows, letting him teeter on the brink of despair for nothing?

Both parts battle inside him before the latter finally wins out. “To be honest,” he mutters, scowling at her, “I don’t know how you expect me to answer that.”

His answer takes Helen off-guard. “What do you mean?” she asks, eyeing him with concern.

Nikola yanks his arm away from her. “Don’t play innocent with me, Helen,” he hisses. “You know exactly what I mean.”

Something flickers across her face then, something that distinctly looks like guilt. “Nikola,” she says softly, “I meant to tell you.”

He scoffs. “Oh really?” he laughs. “What took you so long, then?”

He can hear her heartbeat and her breaths quicken, a sign of frustration or desperation or perhaps both. The feel of her there with him, real and alive and oh-so-close, floods his senses and nearly overwhelms him. It seems like ages since he last felt her, and the sensation almost manages to tear down the wall of his own bitterness. But, once again, the bitterness prevails.

Helen lets out a sigh. “It’s complicated,” she murmurs.

”Of course,” Nikola replies, glaring at her. “It always is.”

He watches her throat bob as she swallows. “Would you believe me if I said I was trying to protect you?”

His lip twists. Of course she has some noble excuse prepared. “Forgive me if I fail to understand how.”

Helen looks down and takes a deep breath. “You were right,” she murmurs. “About it being the ‘other me’ in 1902. And all the other times that we met.”

”You mean the times when you were acting vaguely peculiar and asking me all sorts of odd questions?”

“Yes,” she answers. “Yes, that’s right.”

Nikola shifts so that he’s sitting more comfortably. “What does that have to do with protecting me?”

Helen sighs again. “I wanted to tell you the truth,” she continues. “That whole time, all I could think about was letting you in on the secret. But I knew it’d be wrong to compromise your safety. The more you knew, the more it would make you a target in the future, and I just couldn’t risk it.”

He considers that for a moment. She has a point, although he’s still loath to admit it. “I could’ve protected myself,” he grumbles.

“I know that,” she says, wringing her hands in her lap. “But I’d already lost so much, and I was afraid of losing you.” She pauses. “Again.”

There’s a note of resentment in her voice, and despite his lingering anger, Nikola feels a twinge of guilt. “I didn’t mean to de-vamp myself,” he mutters. “Or get shot in Afina’s tomb.”

Helen’s jaw tightens. “Of course you didn’t,” she replies, her eyes flashing. “You never mean to get into trouble, but you do anyway, and I’m the one who always has to bail you out.”

Nikola inhales sharply. “So this is my fault now?”

”Well, I’m not the one who went running off on a suicide mission without telling anyone.”

”I thought you were dead, Helen!”

”And you thought it was worth throwing your life away because of that?”

”Yes!”

Helen pulls back, stunned. For a long moment they just stare at each other, a million different emotions flitting across Helen’s face.

After what seems like a lifetime, she speaks again. “Nikola,” she murmurs, “I know it must have been agonizing to believe I was gone. Trust me, it killed me to think about how devastated you’d be - “

”Then why didn’t you reach out?” he interrupts, his voice harsh.

Helen lets out a huff of frustration. “I did,” she groans. “I waited for three months to make absolutely sure the ruse had worked, and when I was convinced that it had, I contacted my allies. Including Will and Henry and the others. I was expecting you to be with them, but when they arrived at the New Sanctuary - “

”It’s underground, isn’t it?” he interrupts again. “I should have known.”

“Yes,” Helen answers, her tone clipped. “Anyway, when they arrived, I was expecting you to be with them, but then Henry told me you’d just disappeared a month after the explosion without giving any indication of where you were going. They tried to track you down, but they couldn’t find you.”

Now that is news to him. “They tried looking for me?”

Helen rolls her eyes. “Of course they did, Nikola. They knew how broken up you were after my…death. They were worried about you.”

The twinge of guilt resurfaces. He knew the children cared, but he never expected them to care quite so much. “I didn’t know,” he mumbles, not knowing what else to say.

Helen sighs again. “Well, what else you didn’t know,” she continues, “is that after they told me what had happened, I left Will in charge and dropped everything to run after you. I’ve spent the last three months roaming around the world incognito, reaching out to all my contacts, and searching for any clue of where you might be. And yes, I knew that I was partly to blame for the whole situation, but I was terrified that something would happen to you and that this time I’d be too late to save you.”

It’s Nikola’s turn now to be stunned into silence. The twinge of guilt blossoms into something more potent, and the pain in Helen’s eyes is almost too much for him to bear.

”I’m sorry,” he says after a moment. “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just thought…”

”I know,” Helen whispers, blinking back tears. “And I’m sorry too. I knew you’d be hurt, but I guess I just assumed that you’d eventually find a way to push through until I came out of hiding.”

Nikola shakes his head. “You don’t understand,” he murmurs. “I blamed myself, Helen.”

She frowns. “What? Why?”

He looks away. “Because I couldn’t save you,” he says quietly. “Because I shouldn’t have left you there. Because I should’ve gotten you out sooner - “

”Nikola,” Helen cuts in. “You were just following the plan. Even if I hadn’t survived, it wouldn’t have been your fault.”

Nikola lets out a half-hearted laugh. “Helen,” he starts, “you know enough about my history by now to know that’s never stopped me from blaming myself before.”

Her eyes grow wide with the realization. “Oh, Nikola. ”

”I’ve always wondered why me,” he continues. “Why am I the one who survives when the people I care about, the people far better than I could ever hope to be, are always the ones who end up dying?”

He pauses to take a breath before going on. “It always should’ve been me,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “All those times I’ve lost people, it should’ve been me. Instead of you, or Dane - “

”Stop,” Helen interrupts, grabbing his arm. “Nikola, don’t talk like that.”

”Why not?” he says bitterly. “It’s true.”

”No, it’s not,” she argues, her grip on him tightening. “You deserve to be here just as much as anybody else does.”

”No, I don’t,” he grumbles, trying to pull away from her.

“Yes, you do,” she retorts, dragging him back towards her. “You may not be perfect, and you may be the most reckless, most infuriating man on the planet. But you’re my oldest and dearest friend. And you matter to me. That has to count for something.”

Nikola blinks, just staring at her in shock.

The look on her face makes his heart swell with affection. It isn’t often that she lets her guard down, but when she does, it’s beautiful. She’s beautiful, when she lets him see past the walls she’s built to protect herself. They’re walls, he knows, that often prevent her from saying what she wants to say or admitting what she really feels. They’re alike in that respect. Perhaps it’s part of the reason they’ve always been drawn to each other, like two halves of the same whole.

After a moment, Nikola finally gives in. “Are you getting sentimental on me, Helen Magnus?”

Helen gives him a look. “Don’t get used to it.”

His mouth curls into a smile. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

”Oh, yes you would.”

Nikola snorts. “Are you kink-shaming me?”

Helen whacks him on the arm. And then she laughs. A real, honest laugh, one that makes his heart feel so full he almost thinks it might burst. He thought he’d never hear her laugh again. But here she is, alive and happy, at least for now. It’s been so long since they’ve shared a truly happy moment together. So even though there’s no guarantee that this happiness will last, he decides to treasure it for as long as they have it.

Nikola starts laughing too. Which only makes Helen laugh even harder. Then both of them are laughing together, doubling over until there are tears in their eyes and neither of them can breathe. When it finally seems like all of their laughs are spent, they collapse into each other’s arms.

Helen takes a moment to calm down, letting her eyes roam over Nikola’s face. Then, slowly, she presses her palm to his cheek. “I missed you,” she whispers, stroking his skin with her thumb.

Her touch sends little electric tingles shooting down his spine. “I missed you too, ljubavi,” he murmurs.

He hears her heart flutter in response. “You haven’t called me that in a long time,” she says.

Nikola leans his forehead against hers. “I didn’t know if you still wanted me to.”

Helen lets her fingers trail down to his neck. “I do,” she admits. “I think deep down I always have.”

Their noses brush. The urge to kiss her is so strong that Nikola has to fight to resist it, but there’s still one last thing hanging in the air between them.

”Helen,” he starts, not really knowing how to broach the subject, “before the explosion. Before I left you - “

”I meant it,” she cuts in, her fingers now tracing his collarbone. “I didn’t know how else to say goodbye. You know, in case…in case I didn’t make it out. I couldn’t find the right words to say what I wanted to say.”

He can’t help but smile at that. “Well, we’ve never really been the best at words.”

She laughs. “No. No, I suppose not.”

Nikola strokes her cheek with the back of his knuckles, his body flooding with warmth when she instinctively leans into him. “So,” he whispers, letting his fingers crawl into her hair, “just as a hypothetical question, would you be opposed to doing it again?”

Helen smirks, tilting her chin towards him. “You’ll have to be more specific. Doing what, exactly?”

He smirks back. “I think you know.”

”Nikola, I’m afraid you’re mistaken. I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

He moves his lips to her ear, grinning when he hears her breath hitch in her throat. “Would you like a demonstration, then? You know, to refresh your memory?”

Nikola feels her smile. “I thought this was all hypothetical.”

His lips find their way to her jaw. ”Semantics,” he whispers. Her pulse is racing now, and the sensation of it makes him shiver.

Helen’s hand slips down to his chest. “I suppose I could allow it,” she whispers back. “But you have to promise me something first.”

The feel of her - all of her, alive and real and here in his arms - is overwhelming his senses. He can barely think straight anymore, but a part of him still manages to register her words. “Anything, ljubavi,” breathes against her skin, tracing her jaw with his lips.

Helen draws back, just enough to look him in the eye. The abrupt loss of contact is jarring, and it takes all his strength not to pull her back to him.

Helen’s expression grows serious. “I need you to promise me,” she says, “that you won’t do anything like this again.” She takes a shaky breath. “To be honest, I don’t think I could handle it.”

Nikola’s heart lurches at the fear in her eyes. “I promise,” he replies. “As long as you promise me that the next time you have to fake your death, you’ll at least give me some sort of warning?”
 
She laughs a little. “I think I can manage that.”

”Good,” Nikola says, smiling. “Now, about that hypothetical - “

He never gets a chance to finish. Instead, Helen closes the space between them, cutting him off with a long-awaited kiss.

Chapter Text

She wakes to the sound of him breathing.

Helen lies still, just listening to him for a moment. The sound is a comfort, a reminder that yesterday really happened and that it wasn’t just some sort of fever dream. Nikola’s alive. He’s alive, and real, and safe with her now, and she hopes that things will stay that way for a very long time.

Last night, after talking inevitably gave way to kissing, they kissed for what seemed like ages. Maybe it was a bit juvenile on their part, but neither of them really cared. It was a relief to revel in the sensation of just being alive and together again. Helen had never wanted to touch him so badly before, and she knew the same was true for Nikola. It wasn’t the first time they’d gotten lost in each other like that, but it was different , and deep down they both knew it. It was like some barrier between them had finally collapsed, allowing them to fully embrace the moment without holding each other at arm’s length. Even after Nikola’s last brush with death in Afina’s tomb, when they’d both been so desperate to simply feel each other, things hadn’t been quite the same. They’d still been clinging to their defenses then, each afraid of getting hurt. Not so last night. Last night, something changed.

They would’ve taken things further were it not for Helen’s sensible side taking over. Nikola was still exhausted from the day’s events, and despite his protests, Helen insisted that he get some more rest. He eventually relented, of course, but she offered to stay with him - an offer he all too eagerly agreed to. That was how they ended up in bed together, sleeping in each other’s arms.

Nikola’s arm is still slung across Helen’s waist, as if, even unconsciously, he’s afraid of losing her again. The thought makes Helen’s heart clench. She knows it’s going to be awhile before that fear dissipates, so she scoots closer, not wanting to disturb him. But a moment later he stirs anyway, his eyes fluttering open and his mouth curling into a sleepy grin.

”Hi,” he whispers.

Helen grins back. “Hi,” she says.

He looks far too adorable like that, with his crooked smile and bleary eyes and mussed hair. A swell of affection overtakes her, and before she can stop herself, Helen leans forward to place a soft kiss on his lips.

”Well good morning to you too,” Nikola quips when she pulls away.

Helen gives him a look, but after a second she relaxes and lets her fingers crawl into his hair. “Did you sleep all right?” she asks.

Nikola’s grin widens. “I always do with you, ljubavi.”

Helen blushes. Damn him, laying on the charm this thick at this hour of the morning. She kisses him again, more slowly this time, savoring the feel of him against her mouth. When she pulls back, his smile looks like it’s about to split his face in two.

”Somebody’s being generous today,” he teases. “Maybe I should guilt-trip you more often.”

”Don’t push it,” she teases back. “I can withdraw my generosity any time I like.”

”Fine, fine,” he concedes, making a face at her. “I see that fearing for my life hasn’t made you any less obstinate.”

Helen smirks. “Why would it? It never has before.”

Nikola snorts. “You’re impossible.”

“Oh, you’re one to talk.”

”Actually,” he says, flashing her another grin, “I much prefer the kissing to the talking.”

Helen rolls her eyes. “Oh, how shocking. I never would’ve guessed.”

They kiss again, Helen cupping his face and Nikola pulling her against him. The kiss is playful at first, as so many of them often are, but then Helen feels Nikola’s arms tightening around her, that underlying fear of losing her once again breaching the surface. In response, she surrenders to his touch, letting him take her with him as he rolls onto his back. It’s all right, she thinks, hoping that somehow her reassurance will get through to him. I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere.

They’re both breathing hard when they break apart. Helen is perched atop Nikola’s chest now, her nose brushing against his and her hands cradling his neck. The vulnerability in his eyes is unmistakable, but Helen doesn’t want to spook him by bringing too much attention to it. She opts for a different question instead.

”Are you hungry?” she asks softly.

Nikola’s jaw tightens. “I’m fine,” he mutters.

The strained note in his voice indicates that he is not, in fact, fine at all. “Nikola,” Helen sighs, “how long has it been since you last fed?”

He starts to squirm beneath her, trying to evade the question. “I’m fine,” he repeats.

Helen bites back a groan. “Nikola, it’s not as if you’ve just turned. I’ll be all right.”

Nikola scowls up at her. “You just woke up,” he protests.

”So?” Helen replies. “We’ve done this in the morning before.”

But Nikola just shakes his head in response. “I’m still not at full strength,” he argues. “You know that the weaker I am, the harder it is to control myself.”

”You’re stronger than you were yesterday,” Helen counters. “And besides, you can’t be at full strength anyway unless you feed again.”

Nikola grimaces, clearly seeing the logic in her argument but not wanting to accept it. “I can wait,” he insists.

Helen lifts a hand to his hair, gently pushing it back from his forehead. “I’ll be all right,” she murmurs. “I promise.”

Nikola’s lip twists as he continues to wrestle with the issue. After a moment, he finally gives in. “Okay, fine,” he groans, his resistance deflating. “But you have to do what’s necessary if I can’t stop.”

Helen sighs. “Nikola, I am not stabbing you.”

”You did that one time.”

”That was your second feeding back at Oxford,” she replies, “before you knew anything about being a vampire. I hardly think the same conditions apply now.”

”Still,” he grumbles, “do you have a knife on hand just in case?”

Helen rolls her eyes again. ”Nikola, for god’s sake - “

”All right, all right,” he sighs, rolling away from her. “You can be unbelievably stubborn sometimes, you know that?”

Helen makes a face. “I could say the same about you.”

Nikola shoots her a glare before propping himself up on the pillows. “Well, then,” he starts, “which do you prefer? Neck or wrist?”

Helen knows he’s not going to be comfortable doing this unless she convinces him that she’s perfectly at ease with it. Easing her own body up onto the pillows, she lets her eyes roam over him slowly before flicking her hair back and tilting her neck.

Nikola’s eyes drop to the spot in question. “I know what you’re doing,” he mutters.

Helen smirks and scoots closer. “Is it working?” she asks, brushing her fingers against his jaw.

Nikola shivers at her touch. “No.”

It’s a lie and they both know it. Helen’s expression softens, and she moves her hand to cup the back of his head. “I’ll be fine,” she murmurs. “I promise.”

He inhales, still looking hesitant. “You’re sure?”

Helen presses her forehead against his. “Yes,” she whispers, stroking his ear with her thumb. “I know you won’t hurt me.”

That, finally, seems to get through to him. Nikola melts into her, and she closes the space between them with another kiss. This one is softer than the one before, a gentle exploration rather than a desperate plea for reassurance. Helen’s hand slips down Nikola’s neck to grasp at the collar of his shirt. He winds his arms around her in response. Helen sighs and pulls back just a little, letting him move his lips to her chin. He trails soft kisses across her jaw, stopping only when he reaches her neck.

It’s then that he hesitates again, his nose hovering over her pulse point and his warm breath tickling her skin. Helen shifts closer, trying to encourage him. “It’s okay,” she whispers, pressing her palm against his chest. “Verujem ti.”

I trust you.

It’s all the encouragement he needs.

It hurts, as it always does at first. But the pain passes quickly, replaced by a feeling of quiet euphoria. There’s a scientific reason for this, of course. During feeding, vampires secrete a chemical into the bloodstream that acts as sort of a natural drug. In her research, admittedly conducted through her own experience, Helen surmised that this calming effect was originally meant to subdue prey and make them easier to feed on. But with her and Nikola, this has always been one of the few things where science has taken a back seat. This kind of exchange is the most intimate experience they’ve ever shared with each other. Not in the lustful sense, like most would assume, however. It’s more in the sense that it requires absolute, irrevocable trust between both parties. Helen giving of herself despite the risk, and Nikola taking only what he needs. In this moment, her life is literally in his hands, and it’s up to him to take only what she’s willing to give.

She’d give all of herself, though, if that’s what it’d take to keep him alive. Thankfully, their circumstances right now aren’t so extreme, and Helen has no doubt that Nikola has himself under control. So she lets herself fold into his embrace, her eyes fluttering closed as he gently clasps the hand still resting on his chest. Helen smiles when he gives her palm a tiny squeeze. It’s his little gestures of affection and reassurance that make this experience so worthwhile to her, although Nikola always finds it in him to fuss over her after he’s had his fill. She knows that’s because of the early days, the days before he learned to master his predatory instincts. But even then he’s always tried to be gentle with her. She’s never been prey to him. Only an equal partner.

Helen doesn’t know how long it is before Nikola finally pulls away. She’s a little woozy now, but that’s to be expected given the blood loss. Nikola kisses her neck softly, lingering a little until he’s certain that the wound has closed over. That’s another thing about vampire feeding. Their saliva has remarkable healing properties, which Nikola has allowed Helen to test over the years. The bite, however, will still leave a mark for a few days. Helen doesn’t really mind it, though.

Nikola draws back a moment later. “Are you all right?” he asks, his eyes scanning her face in concern.

Helen squeezes his hand. “I’m fine,” she murmurs, offering him a smile. “How about you?”

Nikola inhales. “I’m okay.”

She can tell by the look in his eyes that he’s not being entirely truthful. “Nikola,” she chides gently, “if you need more - “

”No,” he interrupts, his brow furrowing. “I’m fine. Really.”

Helen lets go of his hand and places her own on his cheek. “Nikola, it’s all right,” she says. “If you need more, then take more. I want you to.”

He holds her gaze for a moment before deciding that she means it. Slowly, he turns his head to press a kiss to her palm. Then, as gently as possible, he grasps her wrist and moves his lips to her pulse point.

Once more, the pain passes as soon as it comes. Helen closes her eyes again, smiling as the familiar feeling of warmth and contentment washes over her. But Nikola doesn’t take as long this time, and when he pulls away, Helen finds herself aching at the loss of contact. It’s beautiful, being connected to him in that way, knowing that a part of her is becoming a part of him. Her blood, her life, giving him life. Just the thought of it makes her breathless.

But she knows her body has its limits, and it wouldn’t be safe to offer him any more. So she lets him press a kiss to her wrist before she moves her hand back to his cheek. “All good?” she asks.

Nikola nods. “Yes.” He pauses, gazing at her softly. “Hvala ti ljubavi moja.”

Thank you, my love.

Helen’s heart leaps in her chest. All of a sudden, a dam inside her breaks, releasing a flood of emotion that immediately overtakes her. It’s not that Nikola hasn’t said such things before. But it’s the way he said it, the way he looked at her, the way he’s still looking at her now. This isn’t about seduction or heat or passion, or so many of the other things they’ve found themselves wrapped up in before. This is something beyond that. This is something vulnerable, something earnest, something real, and something that he wants to last. The look in his eyes says it all. He’s asking for more than the passion. He wants to be a part of her life, in the fullest sense.

She realizes, with sudden clarity, that she wants the same thing from him.

Without further hesitation, she crashes her lips to his. Nikola yields to her instantly, pulling her so close that their limbs become hopelessly tangled in each other. He gasps her name, and the sound is so beautiful that it makes every part of her ache for him even more. If last night’s kiss was a mere apology for past mistakes, this kiss is more than that. This kiss is the one she wanted to give him before they parted six months ago, the kiss they didn’t have time for. This kiss is an acknowledgement of their past, an appreciation for their present, and a promise for their future. Because she wants to keep all of him, for all time. Their lives were bound together the moment they met at Oxford. Helen knows that now. She’s done trying to outrun fate. 

Nikola’s body falls back against the pillows, his arms curling around Helen’s waist as she falls with him. He then pulls away from her lips to bury his head in her shoulder, placing a few kisses there before pressing a line of them up the side of her neck. Helen shudders when his mouth finds her pulse point again. She wants so desperately to give him more of her, to feel so closely intertwined with him that they’re no longer separate, but one. For now, however, her blood is out of the question. But every other part of her - body and soul and everything in between? That she can offer, without holding anything back.

Helen pulls back to look at him. She meets his gaze with a silent declaration that she truly wants this, wants him, and that she won’t take it back this time. But something in his eyes gives her pause. There’s longing there, but a sense of uncertainty too.

”What is it?” she asks softly.

Nikola stares up at her, that uncertainty growing with every passing moment. But just when Helen is about to repeat the question, he opens his mouth to speak.

”Helen,” he gasps, his chest still heaving. “Helen, I - “

A sharp knocking sound causes them both to jump.

Helen’s head whips towards the door. The knocking resumes. “Helen?” a voice calls from the other side. “Are you awake?”

It’s Freyja. Helen sighs. “I should answer that,” she says, turning to look at Nikola again.

His eyes flash with irritation. “Should you?”

Helen makes a face. “We’re their guests,” she replies. “And besides, they did help save your life.”

Nikola deflates. “I suppose you’re right,” he mutters. “The little one has terrible timing, though.”

Helen scoots towards the edge of the bed, trying not to pine for the warmth of his embrace. “She’s already twenty-two, you know.”

Nikola laughs. “Compared to us, she’s still barely an infant.”

Helen rolls her eyes. “Don’t be mean, Nikola.”

”I’m not!” he protests. “I’m just stating the facts.”

Helen shakes her head and begins making her way to the door. Freyja knocks again.

”Just a minute,” Helen calls.

”Draga moja,” she hears Nikola say. “You might want to take care of that first.”

Helen spins around. “Take care of what?”

A lecherous grin spreads across his face. “That,” he purrs, pointing to her neck.

Helen flushes with heat. Her fingers fly up to her pulse point, finding the mark there. “Oh,” she splutters. “Right.”

She can feel Nikola’s grin burning a hole into her as she grabs a shawl off the back of a nearby chair. Making a point to ignore him, she wraps it around herself, only opening the door when she’s certain she’s sufficiently covered.

Freyja greets her with a smile. “Good morning,” she says. “Sorry if I disturbed you.”

She did, but Helen isn’t about to tell her that. “It’s all right,” she replies, returning Freyja’s smile with one of her own. “Is everything okay?”

Freyja nods. “Oh, we’re fine,” she answers. “I just wanted to check in. I also made some breakfast if you’re hungry.”

Helen’s smile widens. “That’s very sweet of you,” she says. “I just woke up, but I’ll be along in a little bit.”

Freyja nods again. Then her expression changes to something more somber. “How is he?” she asks, lowering her voice.

Helen tries not to blush at the memory of being wrapped up in Nikola’s arms. “He’s doing well,” she replies, keeping her voice even. “Much better than yesterday.”

Freyja beams. “That’s good to hear. I’m glad.”

”I am too,” Helen murmurs in agreement.

Freyja steps back from the door. “Well,” she says, “I guess I’ll let you get ready. Take your time.”

Helen offers her another grateful smile before Freyja turns and disappears down the hallway.

Nikola is still grinning when Helen closes the door and turns around. “What?” she asks.

Nikola shrugs. “Nothing.”

Helen resists the urge to roll her eyes again and makes her way back to the bed. “Well,” she starts, sitting down on the edge. “You heard her. There’s breakfast.”

Nikola leans forward, stopping just inches away from Helen’s face. “But I haven’t finished the first course yet.”

His eyes drop to her lips, causing heat to flare in the pit of her stomach. She swallows. “I suppose we’ll just have to reschedule, then.”

Nikola leans closer, letting his nose brush against hers. “It’s not ideal,” he purrs, “but I guess it’ll have to do.”

Helen shivers when his breath dances across her lips. She wants more than anything to kiss him again, but she forces herself to pull away before she succumbs to the urge.

”I should wash up,” she says, rising to her feet. “I’ll see you at breakfast?”

Nikola climbs out of bed and grabs her by the waist before she can retreat. “Wait,” he calls, his expression growing serious.

Helen frowns. “What is it?”

Nikola answers her without words, tilting his head and kissing her softly. Against her better judgment, Helen opens up to him, bringing her hands up to cradle his face. The kiss is gentle, but there’s a note of trepidation in it, and when they break apart, she can see it in his eyes too.

Understanding washes over her. “It’s all right,” she whispers, her fingers stroking his cheeks. “I’m just going down the hall.”

Nikola swallows. “I know.”

Helen presses another brief kiss to his lips. “I’m real,” she says. “And I’m not going to disappear. I promise.”

Nikola nods. He holds her gaze for one long moment before finally releasing her. Helen catches his hand and squeezes it. “See you at breakfast?”

He nods again. “Breakfast,” he echoes, squeezing back.

Helen grants him a reassuring smile before she turns and lets him go.

Chapter Text

Breakfast is a simple affair. Nikola is grateful that Helen’s colleagues don’t press for too much information about his earlier escapade. After his conversation with Helen last night, he’s somewhat embarrassed about his behavior and would rather not dwell on it. He should have known Helen had something up her sleeve. She always does. He was just too consumed by shock and grief to recognize it.

He’s grateful to the Byrnisons, of course, for assisting in his rescue before he threw away his life for nothing. So to express that gratitude, he offers to clear the table after their meal is done. Helen eyes him curiously from the opposite side of the table before offering to help herself. That is how they find themselves in the kitchen, arms laden with dirty plates and silverware.

Helen sets to work washing while Nikola takes on the drying. They work in silence for a few minutes, Helen handing off clean items to Nikola, who wipes them with a towel before placing them down on the counter. She’s on her second plate before she decides to speak.

”I’ve never taken you for the menial labor type,” she quips.

Nikola grins, taking the next plate from her. “Helen, do you really not recall my thankfully brief career as a ditch-digger? You know, after Edison so rudely scorned my genius and turned me out on the street?”

Helen laughs. “You mean the ‘career’ I saved you from by sending George Westinghouse your way?”

Nikola pauses to frown at her. “What do you mean you sent him?”

At that, Helen blushes scarlet. “That’s right,” she mumbles, more to herself than to him. “I never told you.”

Nikola blinks in confusion. “No, you didn’t,” he says. “I would’ve remembered if you had.”

Helen hands him another plate, taking care to avoid his gaze. For a moment it seems as if she wants to bypass the subject, but then she changes her mind. “It was the year after John,” she starts. “And Whitechapel.”

Nikola runs his eyes over her face, taking note of the slight tremble in her lip. He waits for her to continue.

After a brief pause, Helen takes a breath and presses on. “You’d sent me letters,” she says, “inviting me to stay with you in America, at least until I could sort myself out. I thought about it quite a lot, actually, but I was so lost and unsure of what to do. So I just…did nothing for awhile. Then your letters stopped coming. I got worried that something had happened to you, and I was about to finally hop on a boat to New York when I read some newspaper article about the ditch-digging thing.”

She swallows before speaking again. “I was so heartbroken that you’d fallen on hard times, and I felt like I needed to do something to help. I remembered that my father had once been good friends with Westinghouse, so I reached out to him on whim and told him about you.”

Nikola stares at her, the pieces clicking into place. “So that’s how he knew where to find me.”

Helen nods, still refusing to look at him. “I told him not to tell you it was me,” she murmurs. “I knew you wouldn’t want to accept charity, so I decided to keep it quiet. I wanted you to feel like it was all your doing. And in a way, it still was. Westinghouse was genuinely impressed by your work and he truly did want to partner with you.”

A lump begins to form in Nikola’s throat. “That partnership saved me,” he says softly. “I would’ve gone broke, maybe even died in those ditches if it hadn’t.”

”I know,” Helen replies. “I was thrilled when I learned that you’d finally bounced back.”

Nikola’s eyes start to burn. All this time, she was the key to his success, and she let him take all the credit for it. “Why?” he asks, his voice breaking.

At last, Helen turns to him, her own eyes glassy with tears. “Because I cared about you,” she whispers. “And you deserved so much more than Edison’s bullshit.”

That does him in. Nikola drops the towel on the counter and reaches for Helen, cradling her face as his lips meet hers in a gentle but impassioned kiss. Helen’s hands come to rest on his chest, the dishes now forgotten.

He rests his forehead on hers when they finally break apart. He’s aching with affection for her, but he’s struggling to find the right words to express how he feels. All these years, she’s been his guardian angel, watching over him and guiding him even from afar. How can he ever hope to measure up to that?

His hands slip down to her neck. “I don’t deserve you,” he breathes, stroking her jaw with his thumbs. “I never have.”

”Nikola,” Helen chides, “don’t say that.”

”It’s true,” he argues, pulling back to look her in the eye. “Henry was right. You’ve always done so much for me, but how do I repay you? By being a total ass - “

”I always knew you were grateful,” Helen interrupts, her expression softening. “In your own way.”

Nikola shakes his head. “It’s not enough,” he mutters. “I mean, what have I ever done to help you?”

Helen offers him a gentle smile. “Being my friend, for one,” she answers. “Did you know, back at Oxford, I was actually about to quit before I met you?”

He frowns. “You’re joking.”

Helen laughs. “No, I’m not. No one was taking me seriously, and the closest thing I got to respect was a bunch of old men in suits calling me a ‘curious little thing’ like I was an exotic artifact on display in the Ashmolean. I was so discouraged I was almost ready to give up and resign myself to the painful scrutiny of being Gregory Magnus’ poor spinster daughter. But then you just appeared out of nowhere and completely changed my life.”

Nikola makes a face. “There’s no need for flattery, Helen.”

”It’s the truth,” Helen continues. “I mean it. You were the first person who actually saw me. Not as some lunatic woman forcing her way into a man’s world, but as a fellow scientist. You listened to me. You cared about my work. You encouraged me to chase after my ambitions regardless of what anyone else said. You made me feel like I could actually succeed in a world that didn’t want me to, and no matter how much of a ‘total ass’ you’ve been over the years, I’ve never forgotten that.”

Nikola gawks at her, not knowing what to say. “I never knew you felt that way.”

Helen smiles. “Well, it’s like you said. We’ve never been the best at words.”

He smiles back, his heart swelling at the tenderness in her eyes. Her honesty is agonizingly beautiful, and he wishes he had an appropriate response. Well, no, that’s not entirely correct. He does have one, something he almost said this morning before the junior dragon hunter interrupted them. But now that he’s had time to think, he’s not sure he should say it after all. True, he and Helen have been through more than most people could ever imagine. But this newfound connection between the two of them, free of the baggage that led them to silence their true affections for one another, is still so precarious. He doesn’t want to shatter whatever this is by saying too much too soon.

”Nikola?” Helen cuts in. “Are you all right?”

Nikola shakes off his thoughts. “I’m fine,” he murmurs. “Just admiring the view.”

He conceals his discomfort with a smoldering grin, which Helen rolls her eyes at. “Cheeky bastard,” she whispers, before leaning in and kissing him again.

He parts his lips against hers, and she sighs, melting into him. God, he could kiss her for eons if she’d let him. He doesn’t even care that her hands are still wet from the kitchen sink or that she’s left soap stains on his sweater. It’s a miracle just to have her touching him again, opening up to him in a way she never has before. Her arms wrap around his neck, her fingers crawling into his hair as they both surrender to each other. Nikola’s body begins to buzz with electricity, and he deepens the kiss, enjoying the thrill coursing through his veins. His own arms circle around Helen’s waist, drawing her against him. He’s so lost in her that doesn’t notice the lights flickering overhead until a loud pop causes them to jump apart.

His stomach drops when he looks up to see the burnt-out light bulb in the ceiling. “Oops,” he mutters. “Guess I got carried away.”

Helen giggles, smoothing down the front of his sweater. “I’m sure Anders has a spare,” she says. “But we should probably get back to the dishes.”

Just then, Baby Byrnison pokes her head in the doorway. “Are you all right?” she asks, her blue eyes wide with concern. “Pappa’s gone out to the shed but I heard a noise.”

Nikola reluctantly steps away from Helen, immediately missing the warmth of her body. “Apologies,” he says, offering the young woman a sheepish smile. “I may have blown a fuse.”

Helen makes a face at him. “It’s just a burnt-out light bulb. We can replace it if you have extra.”

Freyja relaxes, her own face easing into a smile. “Oh, sure. I can get one from the shed.”

”Thank you,” Helen replies. “Sorry for the inconvenience.”

The younger Byrnison’s eyes dart back and forth between them, no doubt sensing that there’s something being left unsaid. “No worries,” she says, her smile shifting into a smirk. “I’ll be right back.”

Nikola gives Helen a look when he’s sure the girl is beyond earshot. “Well, she certainly has a knack for interrupting at the most opportune moments.”

Helen laughs and shakes her head. “Have I told you she’s a bit of a hopeless romantic?”

”Oh dear,” Nikola muses. “That sounds like trouble for poor old Pappa.”

“As if you’re any less troublesome,” Helen teases. “Come on, let’s finish these dishes before we end up wasting the whole day.”

Nikola leans over and kisses her temple. “But I like wasting my days with you,” he whispers into her hair.

He can hear Helen’s heart skip a beat. “I don’t doubt you do,” she says. “But we offered to do this, remember?”

He pulls back, grinning. “All right, Dr. Magnus,” he purrs. “Whatever you say.”

Chapter Text

Helen and Nikola spend a few more days with the Byrnisons, mostly for Helen’s peace of mind. She knows she’s being a bit paranoid, but she wants to be absolutely sure that Nikola has recovered before returning to the underground Sanctuary. She’d rather not run the risk of him somehow relapsing during the trip.  
  
Although she’s worried about them overstaying their welcome, the Byrnisons don’t seem to mind. Freyja especially is glad of the company, and if there’s one thing Helen knows about Anders, it’s that he’s more than willing to accommodate his daughter’s happiness. Even if that means hosting two unexpected guests indefinitely.  
  
On the third day after Nikola’s dragon encounter, they take a trip into town. It’s supposed to be a mere supply run, but Freyja insists on making a day of it. Helen, of course, is happy to oblige. Spending time with Freyja reminds her of the days when she and Ashley would plan outings for fun. She and Kate continued the tradition after Ashley’s death, but the chaos of the last year or so hasn’t afforded them much time for rest and relaxation. Helen knows she could use the break, so when Freyja suggests they browse the local shops while Anders and Nikola handle the supplies, she doesn’t refuse the offer.

Two vintage clothing stores, three secondhand bookshops, and one cheese tasting later, the two find themselves perusing a quaint little jewelry shop near the town square. Helen is busy admiring their selection of handcrafted necklaces when Freyja excitedly beckons her to come look at the rings.  
  
”Aren’t they gorgeous?” she asks, pointing to the glass display.  
  
Helen smiles. She’s never been much of a ring person, but Ashley and Kate were both rather fond of them. “Yes,” she replies, peering down at the display. “They are quite nice.”  
  
Freyja sighs. “Too bad they’re still over budget,” she laments. “I’ll have to keep saving up.”  
  
Helen glances over at her. “Do you have your eye on one, then?”  
  
Freyja nods and points to a silver band at the edge of the top row. It’s been molded into the shape of a dragon, with intricate scaling detail etched into the metal. The dragon’s head curls up in the middle, and an aquamarine gem sits sandwiched between its tiny jaws.  
”Oh, that’s beautiful,” Helen remarks. She then spies the price tag. “I see why it’s over budget,” she laughs.

“Yeah,” Freyja chuckles. “At this point it’d be easier to get engaged and have my partner buy it for me.”  
  
Helen raises an eyebrow. “Partner?”  
  
Freyja shakes her head. “I mean hypothetically,” she laughs. “I don’t get out enough to date.”  
  
Helen smirks. “You could try one of those dating apps.”  
  
Freyja snorts. “Right,” she mutters. “I’ve seen enough murder documentaries to know that won’t end well.”  

Helen laughs again. “Well, you’re still young. You’ve got plenty of time to put yourself out there.”

Freyja just shrugs. “Maybe,” she replies. “I’ve thought about going back to school, actually. But I’m worried about leaving Pappa.”  
  
Helen’s demeanor softens. “Your Pappa’s a tough man,” she says. “He’ll be alright on his own.”  
  
Freyja sighs. “I know. But it was hard for him after Mamma died. I don’t like the idea of him being alone.”

Helen lays a hand on Freyja’s arm. “Well, if you do decide to go through with it, I give you my word that I’ll check in on him.”  
  
Freyja smiles. “Thank you.” She pauses a moment. “I’m really glad you’re back, Helen.”  
  
Helen smiles back. “Me too.”  
  
Freyja then scans the rest of the display. “This is pretty,” she remarks, indicating another silver band in the second row. Tiny rubies are arranged in the shape of a rose, flanked on both sides by two small silver leaves.  
  
Helen follows her gaze. “That’s beautiful,” she says softly. “It reminds me of Oxford, actually.”  

Freyja turns to her. “How so?”

Helen smiles as the memory begins to take shape. “Whenever I was having a rough time with my studies,” she explains, “Nikola would leave a red rose at my doorstep with a note to encourage me. I don’t know where he found all those roses, but it was nice incentive to keep going.”  
  
Freyja makes a little noise. “Oh, that is so romantic,” she sighs.  
  
Helen blushes. “Well, I think back then he was just trying to be a good friend.”  
  
Freyja makes a face. “Look,” she starts, “I may not have much experience in that area, but as far as I know, friends don’t leave red roses on people’s doorsteps.”  
  
Helen’s cheeks start to burn. “Nikola and I haven’t exactly had the most conventional relationship.”  
  
Freyja smirks. “I can see that,” she chuckles. “But you’re lucky, you know. If I do go back to school, I hope I meet somebody who loves me at least half as much.”

Whatever words Helen was about to say die on the tip of her tongue. Is it that obvious? Nikola’s right, they’re terrible with verbal communication, and he’s never said anything outright. At least, not in a way that was meant to be taken seriously. And true, things between them have changed now, and they’re far closer than they’ve ever been, but surely -  

”Finally! I thought we’d never find you.”

Helen’s head snaps up. Nikola is entering the shop now, Anders close behind him.  
  
”You could’ve called,” she says automatically.  
  
Nikola saunters over to her. “What fun would that be?” he quips, giving her a peck on the cheek. “It’s all about the thrill of the chase.”  
  
Helen rolls her eyes, then directs her attention to Anders. “I hope he wasn’t too much trouble.”

Anders chuckles and shakes his head. “He was very helpful, actually. Managed to talk down the price at the fish market. Odin hates hagglers but your friend here somehow convinced him to change his mind.”    
  
”That Philistine of a seafood vendor was overcharging you,” Nikola mutters. “I simply did what needed to be done.”  
  
Anders claps him on the back, which, surprisingly, doesn’t seem to bother Nikola in the slightest. “It’s a good thing we saved your life,” he jokes. “Otherwise I’d be broke.”  
  
Nikola grins, then laughs, and Helen has to take a moment to marvel at the interaction. Making friends has always been difficult for him, and Anders is far from a social butterfly. But the two of them seem to have hit it off far better than she was expecting.  
  
”Well,” she says, smiling again, “I’m glad he proved himself useful.”

Nikola gives her a look, but before he can say anything, he notices the rose ring. “Now this is lovely,” he drawls, glancing down at the display. “Brings back some memories.”  
  
Helen makes a face. “You don’t even like jewelry.”  
  
Nikola flashes her another kilowatt grin. “I do when it’s on you.”  
  
She blushes again, keenly aware of Freyja and Anders’ eyes on them. “Well, I’m not buying it.”  
  
”Are you sure?” he teases. “You’ve always looked good in red.”  
  
Anders, thankfully, chooses that moment to interrupt. “Are you looking at that dragon ring again?” he asks Freyja.  
  
”What dragon ring?” Nikola inquires.

Freyja replies with a shy smile. “This one,” she says, pointing to the item in question. “It’s too expensive, though.”  
  
A contemplative expression crosses Nikola’s face. “Hmm,” he hums, eyeing the ring. “Been saving for awhile, I’m guessing?”  
  
Freyja laughs. “You could say that.”  
  
Nikola goes quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. Helen begins to question that, but then he shakes off whatever-it-is and steps away from the display. “Well, I’m famished,” he declares. “Who’s up for a bite to eat?”

  
They eat at a nearby restaurant, where Nikola, predictably, orders several glasses of wine. Once again, he somehow manages to bring Anders out of his shell. The two of them are so busy talking and laughing that Helen almost doesn’t want to interrupt them. It warms her heart to see them so at ease with each other, given that both men have a reputation for being loners.  
  
Nikola, however, takes it upon himself to cut the conversation short. After finishing off his third wine glass, he suddenly stands up from the table and puts on his coat.  
  
”Where are you going?” Helen asks.  
  
Nikola shoots her a cryptic look and pushes in his chair. “I forgot there’s something I need to pick up.”  
  
Helen frowns. “Well, we can grab whatever it is on the way back.”

Nikola shakes his head and slings his bag over his shoulder. “I won’t be long,” he insists. “Besides, it’s crowded. Dessert might take awhile. You all carry on and I’ll be back before you know it.”  
  
He flashes them a grin, and then without another word, he turns on his heel and exits the restaurant.  
  
”Well, that was interesting,” Freyja quips.  
  
Helen stares at the door for a moment before answering. “Yes,” she mumbles. “Interesting.”  
  
”I’m sure he’ll be fine,” Anders says, taking a sip from his own wine glass. “Aren’t vampires good navigators?”  
  
”I’m not worried about him getting lost,” Helen replies. “I’m worried about him getting into trouble.”  
  
The fear must come through in her voice, because Anders’ expression softens. “He’ll be alright,” he reassures her. “He didn’t look like he was going to wander too far.”

Helen nods, but anxiety coils in her gut anyway. She knows that Nikola doesn’t need a babysitter to chaperone him around town, but it seems she underestimated just how profoundly his last disappearance affected her. “I hope you’re right,” she says quietly. “I wouldn’t want to have to rescue him twice in the same week.”  
  
”It’s probably a surprise,” Freyja cuts in. “For you.”  
  
Helen can’t help but chuckle at the smirk on Freyja’s face. “Depending on what the surprise is, that could be a good or a bad thing.”  
  
To Helen’s relief, Nikola returns some fifteen minutes later. He doesn’t have any shopping bags with him, but he is clutching his shoulder bag rather protectively. He doesn’t speak of it though and instead continues conversing with Anders as if nothing out of the ordinary has happened. Their desserts arrive not long after that, providing some temporary distraction.  
  
Once their plates are cleared, however, Nikola directs his attention to the bag again. Helen watches him unzip it and pull out a little package wrapped in pastel pink crepe paper.

”What’s that?” Freyja asks, tilting her head in curiosity.  
  
Nikola smiles. It’s softer than one of his signature grins, the kind of smile he reserves only for people he truly admires. “Just a little token of my appreciation,” he answers, reaching across the table and handing her the package. “You know, for helping dear Helen and your father here save me from certain doom.”  
  
Freyja’s eyes widen. “Oh,” she splutters, her cheeks turning pink. “You didn’t have to - “  
  
”I insist,” Nikola interrupts.  
  
Freyja gawks at him for a second longer, then slowly begins peeling back the paper. It falls away to reveal a small black velvet box.  
  
”Go on,” Nikola says. “You can open it.”

Her eyes flicker between him and her father before she pries open the lid and lets out a loud gasp.  
  
Although Helen is almost certain she knows what’s inside, she asks anyway. “What is it?”  
  
Tears springing to her eyes, Freyja turns the box around to display none other than the dragon ring from the jewelry shop. “Mr. Tesla, you really shouldn’t have.”  
  
Nikola waves a hand at her. “It was nothing,” he says. “Anyway, you deserve it for having to put up with my shenanigans.”  
  
Helen’s heart swells as Freyja pulls the ring out of the box and slips it onto her right index finger. She notices Anders watching her, his own eyes glassy with tears.  
  
Freyja moves her hand around, inspecting the ring from all angles. “It’s beautiful,” she says, her face finally breaking into a smile. “I don’t know how to thank you.”

”Don’t,” Nikola replies, eyeing her softly. He indicates Helen. “Facilitating our long-delayed reunion is thanks enough.”

Anders looks at him then, his expression overflowing with gratitude. “You’re a good man, Mr. Tesla,” he says quietly.  
  
Nikola shrugs and looks down, a rare moment of shyness taking hold. “I’m just making sure we’re even.”  
  
”I mean it,” Anders says, his voice firm. He turns to Helen. “Don’t let this one get away,” he continues. “He’s a good catch.”  
  
Helen blushes, but when she glances at Nikola, her embarrassment gives way to something else. Something almost like pride. This is the Nikola she loves. The Nikola who, underneath all that bluster, cares more than he ever lets on.  
  
Wait. Loves?

Helen swallows, fighting back a surge of emotion. She can worry about that thought later. For now -  
  
”I know,” she says softly, laying a hand on Nikola’s arm. “I’m lucky I caught him when I did.”

Chapter Text

It’s late when the four of them finally arrive back at the outpost. After bidding Anders and Freyja goodnight, Helen and Nikola get ready for bed, taking turns washing up before snuggling under the covers together.

Helen nestles her head in the crook of Nikola’s shoulder. “That was a nice thing you did at dinner,” she says softly. “Buying that ring for Freyja.”  
  
She can sense him blushing. “Like I said, it was nothing.”  
  
Helen runs her hand across his chest. “Really?” she asks, smiling. “It didn’t seem like it.”  
  
Nikola squirms a little, clearly uncomfortable with this line of questioning. “Little Miss Dragon Queen didn’t deserve to get dragged into my mess,” he mutters. “Besides, it would’ve taken her forever to save up for it.”  
  
Helen tilts her head up and kisses his jaw. “I’ve been meaning to ask about that, by the way. Wherever did you get the money?”

Nikola pulls back to grin at her. “A man has his secrets.”  
  
Helen makes a face. “I thought we’d agreed to no more secrets.”

His gaze drops to her lips. “Did we? I don’t recall that ever coming up in conversation.”  
  
Helen leans in, smirking. “It was implied.”  
  
”Excuses, excuses,” Nikola murmurs, his mouth brushing against hers. “You’ve got to learn how to be more direct, my dear.”  
  
His breath sends shivers down Helen’s spine. “I’m pretty sure we’ve established that we’re both quite incompetent with words.”  
  
”Hmm,” Nikola muses, stroking her jawline with his index finger. “That does seem to be a recurring theme with us.”

Without another word, he kisses her. It’s a mere press of his lips, however, and nothing more. When he pulls away, Helen can tell by the mischievous glint in his eyes that he’s doing this on purpose to tease her.  
  
She hates to admit that it’s working.  
  
She leans forward again, intent on continuing where they left off. This time Nikola folds, parting his lips and drawing her flush against his body. Helen runs her fingers across his jaw and down his neck, slipping them beneath his shirt collar. She sighs into his mouth, relishing the taste of him. He tastes like peppermint, and it reminds her of one winter in Oxford. They got trapped under the mistletoe at the Griffins’ Christmas party, and at the semi-drunken insistence of Nigel, James, and several other guests, they kissed while the room erupted into a chorus of whistles and cheers.  
  
That, however, wasn’t the memorable part. No, the truly memorable part was when Nikola walked her home afterward, and in a brief moment’s pause from laughing over their mutual embarrassment, they kissed again, this time for real. It went on for a bit longer than either of them was expecting, and Helen can still recall the taste of peppermint cocoa on Nikola’s tongue.

The memory brings with it another, the echo of Freyja’s words in the jewelry shop. Friends don’t leave red roses on people’s doorsteps. Well, they probably don’t kiss each other on their doorsteps either.  
  
Helen pulls back, her mind a whirlwind of thoughts. Nikola frowns at her when she doesn’t speak. “What is it?” he asks.  
  
Helen swallows. “I’ve just had something on my mind.”  
  
Nikola lifts a hand to cup her face. “Tell me, ljubavi.”  
  
This time, the term of endearment nearly breaks her. But it’s not just that. It’s the tender comments, the flirting, the teasing, the red roses, the kissing, the shared looks, the expeditions, the late-night research sessions - all of that and more accumulated over their long and often tumultuous history together. They all point towards one thing that’s been staring Helen right in the face since Oxford. The one thing she apparently failed to recognize until Freyja of all people pinned it down without even trying.

But you’re lucky, you know. If I do go back to school, I hope I meet somebody who loves me at least half as much.

”Helen?”  

Nikola is still frowning at her, waiting for an answer. Helen takes a deep breath. “It’s just…I’ve been wondering…” She freezes. She can’t ask him. Why can’t she ask him? “Back at Oxford, was it true?” she continues, pivoting away from the L-word. “I mean, that you had feelings for me all along?”  
  
Nikola’s frown transforms into a look of hesitation. “Why do you ask?”  
  
Helen smiles a little. “No more secrets?”

He lets out a tiny laugh. “Cheeky.”  
  
Helen’s expression softens. “I mean it,” she says. “Was it true?”  
  
Nikola’s face grows serious again, and he inhales before answering. “Yes,” he replies finally. “Yes, it was.”  
  
Helen lets that sink in. “Why didn’t you say anything?”  
  
Nikola glances down. “I couldn’t.”  
  
It’s Helen’s turn to frown now. “What? Why not?”

He takes another breath and looks back up at her, his eyes haunted by the pain of some long-remembered wound. “It was a different time then,” he says quietly. “And I was a foreigner. A foreigner with nothing to my name but a head full of crazy ideas and a laundry list of unrealized ambitions.”  
  
Helen lays her hand on his cheek. “That wouldn’t have mattered to me. You know that.”  
  
Nikola offers her a rueful smile. “Of course it wouldn’t have mattered to you,” he says. “But it would have mattered to everyone else.”  
  
Helen’s frown only deepens. “Nikola, I never cared about what anyone else thought.”  
  
Nikola sighs. “I know. And that was exactly your problem. I couldn’t say anything because I couldn’t risk ruining your reputation.”  
  
She shakes her head, thoroughly confused now. “Nikola, what are you talking about?”

Nikola sighs again, averting his gaze. “Those stuffy old men in suits were finally beginning to respect you,” he explains. “If you’d started courting me, they would’ve gone right back to turning up their noses at you. I couldn’t sabotage your success, Helen. Not after you’d worked so hard to prove yourself to them.”  
  
Tears spring to her eyes. “So you just chose to stay quiet all that time?”  
  
Nikola nods, the rueful smile returning. “And then I watched Druitt steal you away.”  
  
Helen’s heart starts to ache. Freyja was right. His affection for her didn’t just blossom in the decades after their first meeting. It was there from the very beginning. Wrapped up in layers of ribbing and teasing and playful banter, of course, but there. And it took her over a century to finally acknowledge it for what it always was.

”I wish you’d said something,” she whispers, choking on the lump in her throat. “I would’ve found a way past the naysayers. I always do.”  
  
Nikola threads his fingers through her hair. “I know that now,” he says softly. “But if things had been different, then you wouldn’t have had Ashley. As much as Tall, Dark, and Brooding and I had our differences, I’d never take that away from you.”  
  
Helen blinks, unable to stop the tears now. That emotion from dinner resurfaces, the one that feels almost like pride. But, once again, it’s mixed with something more raw and vulnerable and terrifying. Terrifying, because she now knows for certain what it is. And even more than that, she knows that it’s been there all along too.  
  
But, for reasons unknown to her, she still can’t say it out loud.

So instead, Helen decides to show him. She closes the space between them again, her lips meeting Nikola’s in a breathtaking kiss. He gives in to her immediately, rolling onto his back and cradling her against him. Helen pours everything she has into this kiss - every emotion she can’t yet name and every word she can’t yet say. This is different from all the other times they’ve fallen into bed together, and she wants Nikola to know it. Because this time, she’s no longer in denial about what she feels. This time, after all is said and done, she won’t brush it off and pretend that it was just a bit of fun. This time, she isn’t afraid to offer her heart to him, no matter how much it’s been broken in the past.  
  
And this time, she knows they won’t be interrupted.  
  
They part briefly to catch their breath. Helen pushes Nikola’s hair back, her heart swelling with affection at the adoration in his eyes. Unable to resist, she leans down and kisses the tip of his nose. When she pulls back, however, that adoration has changed to uncertainty.

”What is it?” she breathes, stroking his cheeks with her thumbs.  
  
Nikola swallows. “Are you sure?” he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.  
  
Helen has never been more sure of anything in her life. “Yes,” she whispers back, willing him to believe it. “Želim te. I želim da imaš sve mene.”  

I want you. And I want you to have all of me.
  
The look on his face is enough to make her cry. But before she can succumb to another wave of tears, Nikola pulls her back to him, holding her so close that she knows he’ll never let her go again.

Chapter Text

He almost pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming.  
  
When Helen stirs in his arms, however, he realizes that he doesn’t have to. This isn’t a dream, or a hallucination, or anything else his mind could’ve conjured up on its own. It’s too perfect, even for him. This is real. It’s more real than anything he’s ever felt in his life, and that confirmation nearly moves him to tears.  
  
Nikola tightens his grip around Helen’s waist, wanting to be as close to her as possible. Last night, he thought that they couldn’t be any closer than they already were. But the ache inside him says otherwise. No amount of closeness will ever be enough to satisfy his need to be a part of her, to be so tangled up in her that he can’t separate himself even if he tries.  

He presses his chest against her back, savoring the warmth of her skin. It reminds him of the reality of this moment, and he can’t help but smile. They’ve been intimate before, of course, but nothing quite like this. If last night was a fervent confession of every thought and every emotion they've spent the last century denying, then today is the calm after the storm. It’s the quiet aftermath where every promise made in the dark is sealed by the light of day.

He just wishes he could say it out loud. He spent all of last night showing her what he couldn’t bring himself to put into words, but still, it wasn’t enough. She deserves to hear him say it. And not just as a plea for attention or a flippant remark meant to make her laugh. She deserves to hear him say it for real, to utter every word like his life depends on it.  
  
So why can’t he?  
  
Nikola sighs and buries his nose in Helen’s neck. The scent of her is so intoxicating that it momentarily distracts him. He pulls her even closer, the ache inside him growing when he feels the thrum of her pulse beneath his lips. He can practically taste her now, the sweetness of her blood a potent memory on his tongue. The sensation both thrills and terrifies him. Although he’s never admitted it in words, he’s craved her ever since his first turning at Oxford. But this feels different somehow. That desire, that yearning is far more powerful than it’s ever been, and the feeling is so overwhelming that his head starts to swim with the intensity of it.

”You can have some if you like.”  
  
Nikola jumps, startled by Helen’s voice. He was so distracted that he didn’t even notice she was awake. “Helen?”  
  
Helen shifts in his arms, turning to face him. “Were you expecting someone else?”  
  
The smirk on her face is almost infuriating. “How long have you been awake?”  
  
Helen’s smirk only widens. “Long enough to know you’re thirsty.”  
  
God, the double entendre with this woman. “I’m fine,” Nikola splutters, feeling his cheeks flush.  
  
Helen, clearly enjoying his discomfort, reaches up and cradles his face. “Are you sure about that?”

Nikola shudders when she runs her thumb across his lips. Something about her demeanor feels off. Like she knows something he doesn’t, and she’s toying with him on purpose.  
  
”All right, spit it out,” he says, grabbing her hand before she can tease him any further.  
  
Helen bats her eyelashes at him. “Why, Mr. Tesla, whatever do you mean?”  
  
Nikola grimaces. “There’s something you’re not telling me.”  
  
Helen’s smile turns positively wicked, and she leans forward, pressing her mouth to the corner of his own. “What makes you say that?”  
  
He’d be enjoying this more if he wasn’t so perturbed by her evasiveness. “You’re acting like me,” he grumbles. “That’s what.”

Helen pulls back, making a face at him. “I take offense at that.”  
  
”Good,” Nikola mutters, mustering up his best I’m-not-mad-just-annoyed glare. “Now what aren’t you saying?”  
  
To his surprise, her expression becomes almost apologetic. “It’s just something I researched awhile ago,” she replies. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, actually, but there was never a good time.”  
  
Nikola frowns, having no inkling of where this is going. “What research?” he asks.  

Helen smiles again, and this time it’s soft. “Back when you were still at SCIU,” she starts, “I ran across some old texts on vampire history. We were just so busy with everything else that I never got the chance to bring it up.”  
  
Now that piques his curiosity. “Vampire history?”  
  
Helen nods. “Mhm,” she says, stroking his hair. “Specifically pertaining to…how shall I put this? Mating customs.”

He should have a witty response to that, or salacious comment that would no doubt earn him a scathing glare from the woman in front of him. But something in his brain short-circuits, and the only thing he manages to choke out is a rather pathetic, “Oh.”  
  
”Oh?” Helen echoes, giggling at his lackluster reply. “That’s all you have to say?”  
  
Nikola scowls, cursing himself for acting so flustered. “Yes, as a matter of fact, it is.”  
  
Helen gives him a look, then kisses him on the mouth. It’s brief, but it makes his stomach do somersaults anyway. “What I found wasn’t complete, of course,” she continues after she pulls away. “But it did mention something about blood binding.”  
  
Nikola raises an eyebrow. “Blood binding?”

Helen nods again. “Apparently, according to most vampire traditions, it was forbidden to feed on other vampires unless they were specifically designated as blood donors. The only notable exception to this was when vampires chose mates.”  
  
Nikola mulls that over. “So…what? When you wanted to say ‘I do’ you’d just give your beloved a good old chomp on the jugular instead of exchanging vows?”  

Helen bursts out laughing. “Not exactly,” she replies. “They did have ceremonies, where they verbally declared their commitment to each other in front of witnesses. But after that, mates would share each other’s blood - feed on each other, if you will - and that would effectively seal the deal. From that point on they were referred to as bloodbound, and that bond was considered sacred. If anyone attempted to feed on another vampire’s mate, it was punishable by death.”

”Interesting,” Nikola muses, still trying to process the information. “But what does that have to do with us?”  
  
Helen bites her lip, her gaze darkening. “Well,” she starts, her voice low and sultry, “the blood binding typically happened after the bond was consummated. It’s said that bonded mates developed a particular…affinity for each other’s blood that was unmatched by any other craving. It was a sign of trust between them that one mate wouldn’t take more than another was willing to give.”  
  
Nikola inhales, the pieces clicking into place. A strange sensation begins stirring in his gut. “But we’re not…I mean…this wasn’t the first time - “  
  
”First time we took it seriously, though,” Helen murmurs. Her expression softens. “It would explain why you’re feeling a bit out of sorts right now.”

Nikola swallows. “How do you know what I’m feeling?”  
  
Helen shrugs. “Just an educated guess,” she says. “Also, your pupils are dilated.”  
  
That sensation stirs in his gut again, and this time, Nikola knows what it is. It’s guilt. Guilt not just for his craving, but also for his own foolishness. He assumed that since they cleared the air between them, he and Helen could finally be something more than what they were. But he forgot to consider one crucial detail. Although they’re both immortal, he is a vampire, while Helen is not. She never will be.

Perhaps that wouldn’t be a problem were it not for her revelation about blood binding. But now, in the blink of an eye, everything has changed. Feeding isn’t just something he needs for sustenance. It’s an act of intimacy between two lovers, and it’s one that Helen can never fully partake in. She can share her blood with him, but Nikola can never share his with her. The scales between them will forever be tipped in his favor, and the thought of that is so unfair that he’s almost glad he didn’t say what he wanted to last night. Because now, his hesitation is about more than a deep-seated fear of rejection, assuming that was what was holding him back before. Now, his hesitation is rooted in shame. Shame that he’ll only be able to take instead of give. She deserves more than that. She deserves more than him.
  
”Nikola?”  
  
He blinks, coming back to the present moment. Helen looks worried now, and he hates the concern in her eyes. Hates that she won’t stop giving of herself when he can’t ever hope to reciprocate. “I’m fine,” he croaks.

He can tell she doesn’t buy it. “I don’t mind it, you know,” she says softly. “The feeding. To be honest, I actually quite enjoy it.”

Her admission should make him feel better, but all it does is do the opposite. “I don’t need to,” he says, the guilt now eating away at him.  
  
She looks like she wants to press him, but she ultimately decides not to. “Okay,” she murmurs, the concern still evident in her expression. “If you’re sure.”  
  
I’m sure, he thinks, turning away from her. It’s the only thing I’m sure of right now. 
  
Another thought worms its way into his mind, this one of his detour to the jewelry shop last night. He almost winces at the memory. Freyja’s dragon ring wasn’t the only thing he bought. The other purchase is still tucked away in his bag, waiting for him to find the right moment to reveal it. But now he doesn’t know if there will ever be a right moment. Not when he’d be asking too much of her, asking too much of the woman he loves -  
  
Oh, god how he loves her. It hurts so much that it’s tearing him apart.

”Nikola, are you sure you’re all right?”  
  
Nikola turns back to Helen, his heart clenching at the fear in her eyes. He’s shutting her out again, and he knows that she can tell. He reaches for her in apology. “I’m fine,” he repeats, masking his self-loathing with a well-practiced smile. “Really.”  
  
”Okay,” she says, taking his hand and kissing it. “It just looked like I’d lost you for a moment.”  
  
He shakes his head. “You’ll never lose me,” he whispers, hating himself for lying to her.  
  
Helen holds his gaze and clutches his hand to her chest. “Promise?”  
  
Nikola nods, although he knows he can’t promise anything anymore. “I promise,” he says, willing himself not to break apart in front of her.  
  
She offers him a smile he doesn’t deserve.

Chapter Text

It doesn't take that long for her to realize something is off. 

At first, Helen is oblivious. She's too caught up in enjoying her time with Nikola to notice that anything is amiss. But on the second day after their night together, she starts to grow concerned. It's not that she expects them to be intimate every day, especially given Nikola's brush with death earlier in the week. But when she tries to cozy up to him this morning, pressing her lips against his neck, he jerks away as if she's just burned him. 

Helen blinks in confusion. "Nikola?"

Nikola turns to her, his pillow rustling beneath his head. "Yes, my dear?" 

He's smiling, but there's a hollowness in his eyes that makes her feel uneasy. "Are you all right?"

True to form, he doesn't let the mask slip. "Of course I am, ljubavi," he says. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Helen frowns. There's definitely something wrong. It's not like him to reject her advances, and in light of their newfound closeness, his sudden hesitation is nothing short of strange. "You seem...unsettled."

Nikola makes a face. "Mila moja," he drawls, running his knuckles down her arm, "whatever gives you that idea?"

For a moment, Helen questions her judgment. He is still flirting with her, so maybe she simply misread the situation. She decides to test out her theory. 

She scoots closer and brings her lips to his jaw. "I was hoping you'd tell me."

She can hear his breath hitch, so she takes that as her cue to keep going. She traces his jawline with kisses, stopping at the base of his ear. "Well?" she whispers. 

Her fingers land on his neck, and she feels his throat bob as he swallows. "I think it's almost time for breakfast."

Helen pulls back. "What?"

Nikola offers her another smile, but this one is even weaker than the last. "Breakfast, my dear," he replies. "You know, the first meal of the day? The one our dear young dragonologist insists on feeding us every morning?"

Helen rolls her eyes. "Yes, I know what it is," she retorts. "But it's still early."

Nikola feigns innocence. "And?"

Her stomach drops. "And nothing," she says. "It's just that we've got time. Before breakfast."

Much to her consternation, Nikola doesn't take the bait. "Well," he sighs. "I suppose that means we can sleep in."

He reaches for her, but only to cuddle her against him. Helen pulls his head to her chest and kisses his hair. "Are you sure you're all right?" she asks softly. 

Nikola tightens his arms around her and gently nuzzles her collarbone. "Of course I am," he answers. "Why do you keep asking that?"

Helen holds back a sigh. "No reason," she mumbles, stroking his hair. "I guess I'm just being paranoid."

She's not being paranoid, though, and she knows it. After breakfast, Freyja invites them to join her in her makeshift lab, studying the dragon quill they retrieved after Nikola's run-in with the Isaz Wyrm. Nikola, however, declines the offer, deciding instead to help Anders in the shed with some repairs. On the one hand, Helen is glad that the friendship between them is apparently blossoming. But on the other, she knows that Anders isn't the only reason for Nikola's choice of activity. He's avoiding her, plain and simple, and for the life of her she can't figure out why. 

She tries to put it out of her mind. Burying herself in her work has always been an effective form of distraction, and this time should be no different. But after some time examining the quill, all she's done is stare blankly through her microscope without really taking note of anything. Freyja, ever the keen observer, eventually notices. 

"Helen," she asks, "are you okay?"

Helen looks up, her eyes meeting Freyja's from across the table. The lab is more of a converted garage, renovated to accommodate the Byrnisons' science equipment. Metal shelves line the walls, each filled with pieces of said equipment, and a long, rectangular lab table occupies the center of the room. The dragon quill now sits atop it, along with a few microscopes. 

Helen leans back on her lab stool, careful to balance herself so that she doesn't topple over. "I'm fine," she lies, flashing Freyja a smile. "Why do you ask?"

Freyja gives her a knowing look. "You've been staring at the same slide for half an hour." 

Helen blushes. "Oh."

Freyja leans forward, laying her arms on the table. "You know, if there's something wrong, you can tell me."

Helen takes a breath. She's not sure she should burden her mentee with her personal problems, especially since she and Nikola are here as guests. But then again, Freyja isn't exactly a child anymore, and she likely wouldn't appreciate being treated as one. 

"I'm sure it's nothing, really," Helen says, setting the slide aside. "It's just that..." She pauses. "Have you noticed anything odd about Nikola lately?"

Freyja's brow furrows. "Odd how? You mean like, is he sick again?"

Helen exhales. "No," she replies. "Not that. I mean, does it seem like he's avoiding me?"

Freyja's frown deepens. "Why would he be avoiding you?"

Helen lets out a sigh. "I don't know, really," she admits. "That's what I'm trying to figure out."

Freyja tilts her head to the side. "Did something happen yesterday?" 

Helen shakes her head. "Not that I know of."

Freyja laces her fingers together. "Hmm," she muses. "That's strange."

Helen sighs again. "I know."

She watches as Freyja begins twiddling her thumbs. It's a habit the she's had since childhood, one she indulges whenever she gets lost in thought. For a moment she says nothing and just gazes down at her hands. But then something catches her eye, and her expression suddenly changes. 

"What?" Helen asks. "What is it?"

Freyja starts toying with the dragon ring Nikola bought her, a tiny smile playing at the edge of her lips. "I don't know if I should say."

It's Helen's turn to frown now. "You don't know if you should say what?"

Freyja shakes her head, her smile widening. "It's nothing bad," she says. "I just think..." She trails off. "Let's just say he might have a surprise for you. And maybe he's just nervous about revealing it."

Helen remembers Freyja mentioning something about a surprise before, a few nights ago, at the restaurant. She thought it was just a joke then, but now - 

"What on earth would he be trying to surprise me with?"

Freyja shrugs, continuing to smile. "I don't know. But if he's that nervous, it could be something big."

Helen gets the distinct impression that Freyja knows exactly what this supposed surprise is. But she's also certain that the girl won't come clean. "I hope it's nothing dangerous," she mutters. "He can get a bit carried away."

"Well," Freyja remarks, "maybe this time it's something less flashy."

The glint in Freyja's eyes still has Helen wondering, but she decides to let the matter rest for now. "Perhaps," she sighs. "I just wish he'd get it over with. When he avoids me it's actually kind of unnerving."

She looks up to see Freyja still grinning at her. "What?" she laughs.

Freyja shrugs again. "Nothing," she replies innocently. "Should we get back to the slides?"

Helen nods. "I suppose we should," she says. And with that she pushes all thoughts of Nikola to a far-flung corner of her mind. 

At the end of the day, after dinner and a round of board games, Helen settles in for the night. Nikola is in the bathroom, leaving her alone to once again wrestle with her thoughts. She's still not sure how she feels about an impending surprise. Even if it is well-meant, Nikola does have a flair for the dramatic. She's worried that whatever he might have up his sleeve will take things too far and somehow put him at risk for his own safety. Again. 

Helen sighs and leans back against the bedroom couch. She glances over at the bookcase on the opposite wall, wondering if she should try reading to distract herself. After a moment's consideration, she decides it couldn't hurt. She stands up, intent on making her way over, when her foot suddenly collides with something.

Helen looks down, frowning, but her confusion is soon abated. She's knocked Nikola's shoulder bag onto the floor. Helen shakes her head. She told him yesterday to put it in a safe place - a suggestion he either ignored or forgot to follow. Muttering under her breath, she bends down to pick it up. But when she does, something comes tumbling out of the unzipped flap, landing at her feet with a dull thunk.

Helen sets the bag on the couch, then returns her focus to the mystery item. When her eyes land on it, however, she freezes.

It's a small package wrapped in pink crepe paper. 

Helen recognizes it as the same pink crepe paper from the jewelry shop, the paper Freyja's ring box was wrapped in. One thought immediately springs to mind, and without warning, her heart starts to race. No. No, it can't be that. Nikola wouldn't, at least not right now. It's probably just a bracelet or something, right? Some small - albeit expensive - token of his affection? 

What on earth would he be trying to surprise me with?

I don't know. But if he's that nervous, it could be something big.

Helen's breaths begin to quicken. She shouldn't look. She knows she shouldn't. But she can't seem to help herself. Against her better judgment, she leans over, picks up the tiny package, and slowly unwraps the crepe paper. Sure enough, resting there in a sea of pink crinkles, is a small black velvet box. 

Helen swallows. With trembling hands, she gently pries the lid open. And although she suspects she already knows what's inside, she lets out a gasp at the sight anyway. 

It's the rose ring from the jewelry shop. The ring Nikola commented on, the ring that reminded her of their days at Oxford. Helen's heart lodges itself in her throat, and her eyes begin to water. He didn't. He couldn't have. 

But he did.

She collapses onto the couch, still breathing hard. There's only one reason Nikola would've bought this for her, and it has her emotions all tangled up in knots. Was this just a spur of the moment thing? An impulse buy? Or was this something he always planned on doing? Helen thinks back to their conversation the other night, when Nikola admitted that he had feelings for her at Oxford. He never asked her the question then. But now she wonders, did he always want to? 

Helen blinks, sending tears trickling down her cheeks. After everything with John imploded, she practically swore off engagements and marriage and anything of the sort. Not because she didn't believe in it, but because she knew firsthand that the more you devoted yourself to someone, the greater the risk of heartbreak. Oh, she fell for plenty of other people over the years, but she never allowed herself to fall hard enough that ending things would tear her apart like it did before. 

Nikola, however, was the one exception. And now, thinking back on it, she realizes that she always knew. Perhaps that was why she fought so hard to keep him at arm's length. If she let him get too close, things could end in disaster again, and she'd lose her best friend along with her lover. She didn't want to lose him. She couldn't. He was too important, too precious to her, and she couldn't bear the thought of her heart being ripped in two a second time. 

But now? Helen takes a breath. Now, things are different. She knows that, and she knows that they can't go back to what they were even if they wanted to. So if this is what what Nikola wants, then what, exactly, does she want? 

The answer comes to her in an instant. It's startling how quickly it comes, but when it does, Helen is sure that it's the right one. For years, just the idea of getting engaged again terrified her. She thought that it would always feel that way. But now, with this ring sitting in her lap, promising a future where Nikola will never again leave her side, she knows exactly what she'll say when the time comes. 

A sudden noise causes her to jump. It's Nikola, turning the doorknob to their room. Heart pounding, Helen scrambles to wrap up the ring. She shoves it back into his bag just as the door swings open and Nikola saunters inside. 

"Glad to see you waited up for me."

He closes the door behind him, flashing her one of his signature grins. Helen's heart swells at the sight. He doesn't look any different than he usually does, but in light of her accidental discovery, he's somehow even more beautiful now. Beautiful, breathtaking, wonderful, and perfect. Her perfect, mischievous little imp of a vampire, waltzing into her life, disrupting everything around him, and turning all of her plans inside out. 

All because he loves her. 

She knows that he always has.

"Helen?"

Nikola is frowning now, no doubt having noticed her dumbstruck stare. Helen clears her throat and tries to regain her composure. "Um, yes?"

He crosses the room to meet her. "Are you all right?" he asks. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Helen shakes her head. "I'm fine," she replies, throwing in a smile for good measure.

Nikola eyes her for a moment, then begins rubbing her arms. "Did you work too hard again, sunce moje?"

Helen laughs. "We were just looking at slide samples."

"Ah, the most taxing of scientific pursuits," Nikola quips. "No wonder you're so exhausted."

He offers her a gentle smile, and all at once, her resolve shatters. All of her emotions rush to the surface, and before she can stop to think, she grabs his face and brings his lips crashing down on hers. 

Nikola grunts in surprise. Helen draws him even closer, moving her mouth against his. On instinct, his arms wrap around her and pull her into him. But when she breaks away a second later, he's frowning again. 

"Helen?" he gasps, his eyes asking an unspoken question.

Helen meets his gaze. Now is the time. She should say what she wants to say, tell him the one thing he's been waiting to hear since Oxford. But for whatever reason, the words get lost between her mind and her mouth, and the only answer she can provide is yet another earth-shattering kiss. 

To Helen's relief, Nikola folds immediately. He opens up to her, parting his lips and tightening his grip on her. Helen winds her arms around his neck, breathing his name into his mouth. In response, he pulls her impossibly closer, letting his fingers slip beneath the hem of her shirt. Helen smiles and curls her own fingers into his hair. With every touch and every breath, she gives him the answer to the real question, the question he has yet to ask. Because she knows for certain now that this what she wants. She wants them to be entwined forever, for him to be totally hers and her to be totally his. She wants that ring on her finger and every beautiful promise that comes with it. She wants to spend the rest of her life with Nikola. Her best friend, her partner in crime, the man she loves and has loved for so long she can't even remember when she first started loving him - 

All of a sudden, he pulls back. 

Helen blinks in surprise. "Nikola?" she gasps softly. 

Nikola leans his forehead against hers, taking a moment to catch his breath. Then he opens his eyes. 

Helen's stomach drops, just like it did this morning. He's giving her that same haunted look from before, the one he used to push her away. Anxiety coils in her gut. What is wrong? She thought they were happy, thought he was happy. Was it something she did? Something she said? If he bought that ring, then why is he acting like he no longer wants her?

Nikola wraps his hands around hers and brings them to his lips. "I'm sorry, ljubavi," he murmurs. "It's just been a long day."

Helen feels like the earth is opening up beneath her, and right now she almost wishes it would swallow her whole. "I understand," she whispers, although she really doesn't. "We should get some rest, then."
 
 He nods and kisses her hands again before letting them go. "After you, my dear." 
 
 Helen turns her back to him and makes her way to the bed. But she doesn't let Nikola see her face until she's sure the tears have stopped falling.

Chapter Text

The next day, Helen wakes up early, slipping out of bed while Nikola is still asleep. After last night, her emotions are still a jumbled mess, and she doesn't think she can stomach another uncomfortable interaction.

She washes up and dresses, then heads to the kitchen to find some food. Usually Freyja prepares breakfast, but she too is still asleep. Right now, Helen would rather eat alone than share a meal with anyone anyway.

When she enters the kitchen, however, she realizes that she's not alone. Anders is at the counter, pouring himself a mug of coffee. Helen watches him for a moment, wondering if she should leave, but he turns around before she can walk away. 

"Well, you're up early."

He's smiling, but Helen can't bring herself to smile back. "So are you."

Anders laughs. "I'm always up this early. What's your excuse?"

Helen takes a breath. "I'm usually a morning person."

"I know," Anders says, his eyes twinkling. "But this week has been a bit different, yes?"

Her stomach twists a little at the thought of Nikola. She tears her gaze away. "I just wanted some time to myself," she mumbles, heading towards the refrigerator. 

She hears Anders' mug land on the counter. "Everything all right?"

Helen backs away, carrying a jar of lingonberry jam. "Yes, of course. I'm just..."

She trails off when she sees the look in Anders' eyes. He's always been far too perceptive to buy any lie she might throw at him. Sighing, she sets the jar down on the counter. "To be honest, I'm not sure what I'm feeling right now." 

Anders nods thoughtfully. "Well, it has been a long week."

Helen nods back. "I know. It's not that, though."

He tilts his head, a mannerism he shares with his daughter. "Problem with the vampire?" he asks.

Helen lets out a soft chuckle. "You could say that."

Anders lifts his mug to his lips, taking a sip before speaking again. "You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to."

Helen swallows. She realizes, quite suddenly, that she does want to talk about it. She's desperate to, in fact. Keeping this storm of emotions bottled inside her is only making things worse, and although whatever is going on with Nikola is quite personal, she's not sure how long she can keep it in before she bursts. 

"Nikola is...acting strange."

Anders tilts his head again. "Stranger than usual?"

She can't help but snort. "Yes."

Anders inhales and leans back against the counter. "Strange in what way?"

Helen shrugs. "I'm not sure exactly," she admits. "But I feel like he's trying to distance himself."

"From you?" Anders asks.

Helen nods. "Yes."

Anders mulls that over, his brow creasing in thought. "That's odd. What makes you think that?"

Helen sighs. She doesn't want to go into detail, but now that she's talking, she also doesn't want to stop. "I just get the sense that he's pushing me away again," she says. "And to be honest, I don't know why."

She hates the way her voice starts to break, but if Anders notices, he doesn't bring attention to it. "Pushing you away," he murmurs. "I see."

Recognition flickers across his face. Helen frowns. "What?" she asks. "What is it?"

Anders takes a breath and sets his mug down on the counter. "I can't presume to know Nikola's mind," he starts. "But I think I might have an idea of what's bothering him."

Something like hope blossoms in Helen's chest. "Oh?"

Anders nods. "You remember Sofie?"

Helen nods back. She worked with Anders' wife years ago, before her untimely passing left him to care for Freyja on his own. "Of course," she replies. "How could I forget?"

A wistful look settles on his face. "Well, in that case, I'm sure you remember how brilliant she was. And strong. And beautiful, and...well, I suppose I'm getting off track here."

Helen laughs. "You loved her."

His lips curve into a sad smile. "More than my own life," he says softly. "She captivated me from the moment I met her."

Helen can't help but smile back. "I could tell how much she meant to you."

Anders' eyes grow heavy with the weight of memories. "You only knew us when we were married," he continues. "But before then...well. Let's just say it almost didn't happen."

Helen blinks in surprise. "What?"

Anders chuckles. "It's true," he admits. "But not because of anything she did. No, it was mostly my fault. Back then, I was, uh, struggling with a rather unhealthy dose of self-loathing."

The gears in Helen's mind start to turn. "Self-loathing," she repeats quietly.

Anders nods. "Mhm. You see, when we met in the field, she was unlike anyone I'd ever worked with. Instead of always following the established way of doing things, she was so quick to adapt her methods and take things in a new direction. She could even make things up on the spot if she thought it necessary. She was so brilliant it was almost impossible to keep up with her, and to be honest, as much as I admired her, being around her made me feel - " 

"Unworthy," Helen finishes, the pieces now clicking into place.

Anders nods again. "Yes," he says. "As smart and as capable of a scientist as I thought I was, I felt like an idiot around her. And before long, I started to believe that as much as I wanted to be with her, she deserved better than someone who couldn't measure up." 

Helen eyes him gently. "But you did," she murmurs. "She always saw you as her equal."

Anders lets out a rueful laugh. "I know that now. But at the time I didn't feel good enough for her. So when I realized that the feelings might be mutual, I did everything in my power to push her away. I thought I was doing her a favor, but she eventually confronted me and forced me to tell her the truth."

Helen takes a breath. "And then what happened?"

Anders laughs once more. "She said I was being stupid," he replies. "That I was so busy wallowing in self-pity that I couldn't see what she saw in me. You see, she thought that she was too flighty, so she saw me as her anchor. I was the more stable one who kept her from getting too carried away with her ideas. We balanced each other out, and that was why she fell in love with me."

Helen smiles softly. "That's beautiful."

Anders smiles back, his eyes now brimming with tears. "Yes, it was."

He sniffles a little and returns his attention to his mug. "Anyway," he goes on, "I suspect that your vampire might be in a similar position. He never shuts up about you, you know."

Helen's heart swells with affection. "Really?"

Anders takes sip of coffee. "Oh, yes," he chuckles. "I expected him to yammer on about his inventions, but the only thing he wants to talk about is you."

A lump forms in Helen's throat, and all of a sudden, she wants nothing more than to run back to the bedroom and hold Nikola close. "We're not very good at talking to each other."

Anders snorts. "I've noticed that." He takes another sip. "But, if I'm being honest, in this case it might be worth trying."

Helen takes that in. "I suppose you're right," she murmurs. "It's better than doing nothing."

Chapter Text

Nikola doesn't know why, but he gets the feeling that Helen is trying to corner him.

It starts when he wakes up. He expects to find her lying beside him, but instead she's already awake, sitting on the edge of the bed and giving him a look. He can't quite decipher it, but something in her eyes makes him feel like a mouse being lured into a trap. Fearing for his life, he leaps out of bed and makes a beeline for the bathroom before she can sink her metaphorical claws into him and prevent any chance of escape.

Breakfast, however, isn't much better. Although Freyja and Anders are there as a buffer against more private matters, Helen won't stop staring at him. Normally he'd be reveling in her apparent fixation with him, but this stare is anything but a confession of burgeoning desires. Instead it feels as if she's mentally trying to extract his soul and lay bare its secrets beneath the lens of one of her microscopes. It's not the first time Nikola has felt exposed under the weight of Helen's scrutiny, but this time, he knows it's different. He's not sure how he knows that, but he's certain he's not imagining it.

So, like the day before, he decides it's best to avoid her. He spends most of his time in the shed helping Anders with various repairs. As they work, Nikola tries to steer their conversation away from topics that involve one Dr. Helen Magnus. But somewhere in the midst of his rambling, the needle eventually swings back to her anyway. Even with all his efforts to resist it, her magnetic pull is just too strong, and he finds his focus settling on her like a compass that can only point north.

He's babbling about one of their many failed attempts to find the lost city of Atlantis when Freyja suddenly appears, her eyes brimming with the kind of excitement that only comes with a new idea or a burst of inspiration. His curiosity piqued, Nikola cuts himself off mid-sentence and sits back on his heels. An array of tools, which he's been using to upgrade the engine of Anders' snowmobile, lies fanned out on the floor beside him.

"Is it lunchtime already?" he quips.

Freyja laughs a little, blushing. Ever since he gave her that dragon ring, she's been acting somewhat bashful around him. "No, Mr. Tesla," she says. "I came to see Pappa about something."

Anders' head pops out from behind the snowmobile. "What is it, skatten min?"

Freyja steps towards him. "I had an idea about dinner tonight."

Anders rubs his chin. "What about it?" he asks. "You're not going to overwork yourself in the kitchen again, are you?"

Freyja snorts and shakes her head. "No," she replies. "I was thinking we could go back into town. You know, to Utkikksted?"

Her gaze flits to Nikola before landing back on her father. Something unspoken passes between them, and without warning, Nikola starts to feel a sense of unease crawling under his skin.

"What's that?" he blurts out.

Freyja flashes him a smile, but the glint in her eyes does nothing to ease his discomfort. "It's a restaurant," the girl explains, taking no note of his mounting distress. "It's on the rooftop of this building at the edge of town. There's a lookout there where you can watch the Northern Lights if they're visible."

It doesn't sound threatening, but Nikola can't help but feel that same sensation from earlier, the sensation that he's being led into a trap. "I see," he says, keeping his voice even. "Any particular reason for this unexpected excursion?"

Freyja shrugs, her eyes now glittering with something like amusement. "Not really," she answers. "I just thought it'd be nice."

She catches her father's gaze again, and Nikola swears he can see Anders smirk. "It's fine with me," the other man says. "As long as Helen's all right with it."

Freyja fiddles with the ring on her finger. "I already asked her," she replies. "She said it's fine."

"Am I invited?" Nikola cuts in, knowing full well what the answer is.

Freyja turns back to him. "Of course you are," she chuckles. "We wouldn't leave you behind. Especially not without Helen."

And there it is, the trap on full display. Maybe the poor girl thinks she's hiding it well, but Nikola's spent an abnormally long lifetime learning to read other people's tells. He wasn't always good at it - lord knows he could've avoided the whole Edison debacle if he was - but amassing over a century's worth of survival instincts has taught him well. Freyja is cooking up some kind of scheme to force him and Helen together, and Anders is going along with it. Whether or not Helen has a hand in this is debatable, but he wouldn't put it past her. She's been watching him like a hawk, waiting for the right time to strike. If she's the one who put her accomplices up to this, then it seems she's had enough of waiting.

"Well," he remarks, although he's not feeling well at all. "I suppose I'll have to find something to wear."

Utkikksted, or the Lookout, isn't quite a gourmet establishment. But judging by the crystal glasses, fine silverware, and cloth napkins, Nikola figures it comes pretty close. The place isn't too large, just one square room with a bar in the center surrounded by a smattering of candlelit tables. Classical music floats through the air from some unseen speakers, while the dying sunlight casts shadows through a row of wall-length windows.

It's beautiful, if not a bit generic, but right now Nikola couldn't care less about his surroundings. No, something else has captured his attention, and he can't seem to take his eyes off of her.

They left their coats at the door before entering, which has now allowed Helen, in all her maddening splendor, to render him utterly speechless. Nikola has no idea why she packed a semi-formal outfit for what was originally supposed to be a rescue mission, but leave it to Helen Magnus to be prepared for anything. She's wearing a crimson off-shoulder cocktail dress that hugs her hips and flares out around her knees. It brings back memories of autumn leaves and cobblestone streets, and Nikola finds himself cursing how easily she can unravel him with something as simple as a damn color. It even matches his tie, for god's sake, as if she somehow knew Anders would lend him a red one.

He grits his teeth to keep from making some inappropriate remark, but as they make their way to their table, his eyes continue to roam. Her dark curls are strategically swept over one shoulder, obscuring the mark he left on her neck a few days ago. That almost elicits a smile of satisfaction, but then he remembers why he left that mark there, and why he's been keeping his distance. His stomach turns at the thought. In an effort to distract himself, he focuses on her dress again, letting his eyes trace the dip in her neckline and count the freckles on her skin. His gaze then travels lower, skimming over the curve of her waist and the sway of her hips as she walks.

Once he's had his fill, he lifts his gaze back to her face, and he feels his breath catch at how the sunset makes her eyes glow. God, she's so beautiful it hurts to look at her. A part of him aches to make a run for it, to whisk her away to some hidden alcove and kiss her until neither of them can breathe. But even if adherence to social expectations wasn't an issue, he knows it would be wrong to pull her aside. Doing so would just make him want her in all the ways he doesn't deserve, and he can't take that risk, no matter how tempting it may be.

A gentle squeeze on his arm rouses him from his thoughts. He blinks in confusion, then realizes Helen is looking at him. Her lips, parted and perfect and oh-so-kissable, curl into a smirk. "Enjoying the view?" she whispers, her lashes fluttering as she speaks.

She's nodding her head at the windows, but Nikola knows she isn't talking about the vista. Against his better judgment, he tilts his head towards her and smirks back. "It's breathtaking," he murmurs, his gaze dropping to her mouth.

Helen's smirk widens into a full-blown smile, and then she does the worst possible thing she can do in that moment. She leans in and presses a kiss to his cheek, lingering just a second too long before pulling back. Nikola's body is shaking when she does, and the affection in her eyes nearly shatters him.

"You look nice too," she says softly. The playful tone is gone, replaced by something more sincere. "Anders made a good choice. The color suits you."

She thumbs his tie, and it reminds him of the day he thought she died. He can still feel the ghost of her kiss, and it makes him want to kiss her again.

Damn her.

He inhales, trying to think of anything but Helen Magnus' mouth, and pulls out her chair. She smiles at him again and sits down, while Anders and Freyja take the seats on the opposite side of the table. When the wine comes, he wishes desperately that it could get him even the least bit buzzed, but of course that's too much to hope for. Instead, he's forced to sit inches away from the one thing he wants more than anything, but whom fate has decided he can never truly have. Her presence is poison, slowly killing him with the reminder that she deserves far better than anything he can hope to give.

He's downed three glasses of wine before the appetizers even arrive. At that point Anders must take notice, because he clears his throat rather loudly and makes eye contact with him. "You two should check out the roof," he says. "The view is beautiful up there."

Nikola blinks. "Roof?"

Freyja cuts in, her eyes sparkling. "Oh yes," she says. "The lookout. It's gorgeous."

Her gaze flits between him and Helen, and he gets the sinking feeling that this is a battle he's destined to lose. Still, he wouldn't be Nikola Tesla if he wasn't the most stubborn man on the planet. "Perhaps after dinner," he replies, trying his best to sound polite.

Helen, however, just has to open her irritatingly kissable mouth. "I think we have time," she says, her smile sickly sweet. "Come on, Nikola. It can't hurt."

He can think of a million ways this could hurt, but he holds his tongue. "Oh all right," he concedes. "But if the appetizers come early, you have to save some for me."

Both Freyja and Anders laugh. "Of course," Anders chuckles. "Far be it from us to deprive the great Nikola Tesla of his dinner."

Nikola snorts. But, heaven help him, he can't stay mad at either of them. Even if the Byrnisons have been scheming against him, there's no doubt that they're good people. He's not sure how they wormed their way past his defenses, but he quite likes them, although he'd never say so out loud.

"I'll hold you to that," he warns, aiming a mock glare in Anders' direction. Anders merely offers him a salute before Helen grabs him by the elbow and drags him away from the table.

Chapter Text

Helen Magnus may not have vampiric senses, but she knows without a doubt that Nikola is nervous.

Her stomach twists with guilt as they make their way through the restaurant. She's the one who arranged this outing, all in an attempt to get Nikola to talk. She knows, of course, that she had no other choice, but the apprehension on his face still stings anyway.

In an effort to reassure him, she slips her hand into his. "I'm sure the view is lovely," she says, giving his palm a squeeze.

Nikola just nods, prompting Helen to sigh. If he's already being this quiet, then her plan could end up backfiring.

She leads him to a staircase at the end of the room. When at last they reach the top, Helen lets out a gasp. The roof is covered by a dome of glass, revealing a dazzling view of the town from all sides. A field of golden lights stretches out below them, tapering off as it meets the mountains in the distance. The last rays of sunlight peek through their shadowy forms, bathing the horizon in an opalescent glow.

"This is beautiful," Helen breathes, making her way towards the windows.

Nikola hums in acknowledgement but says nothing more.

"So," Helen starts, turning to look at him. "Is there anything you want to tell me?"

She feels him stiffen, although he doesn't let go of her hand. "Like what?" he asks.

"I don't know," she says quietly. "I was hoping you'd tell me."

Nikola's lip twists, but he remains silent. Helen waits for him to answer. After a moment, he opens his mouth. "There's nothing to tell," he mumbles, refusing to look at her.

"Nikola," she sighs, "I know that's not true."

At that, he finally releases her hand. "You know, Helen, you have a rather nasty habit of making assumptions about me."

Helen's jaw tightens. "It's not an assumption."

"Oh?" he laughs, walking away from her. "And how do you know that?"

"Because you've been avoiding me."

"No, I haven't," he retorts.

"Oh really?" Helen shoots back. "What do you call this, then?"

"Having a conversation."

Helen resists the urge to scream. Instead she marches up to him, grabs his arm, and spins him around. "Look at me," she demands.

It takes him a second to comply. But when his eyes meet hers, the pain she finds there cuts through to her heart.

"What do you want me to say?" he grumbles.

"I want you to tell me what's wrong."

Nikola looks away again, the sunset now casting shadows across his face. She's struck then, and not for the first time, by just how beautiful he is. With his mussed hair, sharp features, and elegant frame, he puts the view below them to shame. Helen lets her eyes trace his profile, drinking in every angle until they at last land on his lips. She can still feel the memory of them trailing across her skin, speaking her name in reverent whispers as she holds him close in the dark. The thought of that makes her ache with longing, and it takes all her strength not to reach for him.

She continues to wait for an answer, not daring to move lest she startle him. But when it becomes clear that he isn't going to talk, Helen decides that she has to switch tactics.

"Nikola," she whispers, gently stroking his arm. "I found the ring."

His body seizes up. "What ring?"

"I think you know."

He scowls. "You went through my things."

Helen winces, feeling another pang of guilt. "It fell out of your bag," she explains. "I recognized the wrapping and..." She trails off. "I'm sorry. I know I shouldn't have looked, but I just couldn't help myself."

Nikola huffs. "Of course you couldn't."

"Why did you get it?" she asks.

Nikola shrugs. "I don't know. Impulse buy."

Helen makes a face. "That's not the sort of thing one buys on impulse."

"And how would you know?" he snaps. "There you go, making assumptions again."

"Because you won't tell me the truth!"

A heavy silence falls between them. Desperation claws at Helen's insides. It's the same desperation she felt when he was de-vamped, when he nearly blew himself up in Colombia, when he was shot in Afina's tomb, and when she found him freezing in the dragon's lair. That desperation takes the shape of one thought, one fear, one thing she can't bring herself to say out loud.

I can't lose you, Nikola. I can't.

"Nikola," she says, gripping his shoulder. "I know what you're doing."

He shoots her a glare. "And what, exactly, might that be?"

"Pushing me away," she answers. "Trying to make me angry so I can leave without feeling guilty."

Nikola shrinks, and she can tell she's hit the mark. "You should leave," he mutters. "You'd be better off without me."

Her heart clenches at the agony in his voice. "Nikola, why would you say that?"

He wrenches away from her. "Because it's true."

She reaches for him again. "How, exactly?"

"You know how."

"No, I don't."

Nikola runs a hand over his face. "Your research," he groans. "You know, that stuff about vampire mating customs?"

Helen frowns. "Yes, what about it?"

A strangled noise escapes his throat. "Blood binding!" he cries, waving a hand in the air. "You give me your blood and I give you mine - oh, wait. I can't."

Helen blinks. "That's what this is about? That you're a vampire and I'm a human?"

"Yes, no, not exactly - "

"Nikola, I couldn't care less about that - "

"That's not all it is."

"Then what is it?"

"You deserve better than me!"

Helen gawks at him. She was expecting something like this, but she wasn't expecting him to look so broken.

A lump rises in her throat. "Nikola - "

"No," he grinds out. "Don't 'Nikola' me."

Helen shuts her mouth.

He takes a shaky breath, his mouth opening and closing in an attempt to force more words out. After a moment, he finally succeeds.

"Ne mogu ti dati ono što zaslužuješ, Helen."

I can't give you what you deserve, Helen.

Helen frowns again. "Nikola, what are you talking about? You mean your blood? I told you I don't care - "

"It's not just about the blood," he growls, stalking away from her. "It's about what it means. You said it yourself. The blood binding is a sign of ultimate trust, of knowing that your partner won't take more than you're willing to give. But the thing is, the only thing I can do is take. It's all I've ever done. I've taken your time, your generosity, your patience, your friendship, your blood - everything you've ever offered me, and how do I repay you? By bleeding you dry and giving you barely a fraction of what you've given me. That's not fair, Helen, and you know it."

Helen stands frozen, stunned into silence. The lump in her throat continues to rise, and her eyes grow hot with the sting of tears. In a rush, a century's worth of disparaging comments comes flooding through her mind. She never truly meant them, of course, but now she hates herself for saying them at all. So much of the behavior she labeled as selfish or arrogant was merely a mask. A mask meant to conceal how Nikola really felt, to disguise both his self-loathing and his devotion to her. Helen was on some level aware of this fact, but she had no idea it ran this deep.

She has to put a stop to it before it completely destroys him.

Swallowing back her tears, Helen crosses the space between them. "No, Nikola," she says, her voice raw but firm. "I don't know it."

Nikola turns to look at her. "If you're lying to make me feel better - "

"I'm not," she interrupts. "I don't know it. Because nothing you said is true."

He opens his mouth to refute that, but Helen lays a finger across his lips. "Let me finish."

Nikola closes his mouth again, waiting for Helen to continue. She takes a breath.

"It's not true," she repeats, letting her hand fall to his chest. "Did you not hear anything I said a few days ago? About how you were the one who kept me going at Oxford?"

Nikola looks away. "No, I heard."

"Then did you think I was lying?"

He wrinkles his nose. "No."

Helen sighs. "Nikola, look at me."

Nikola hesitates, then grumbles something unintelligible and turns to face her again.

Helen presses on. "Look, if I've ever given you the impression that I think you haven't done enough for me, then I'm sorry," she whispers. "Because the truth is, you've done more than enough, and I'm not just talking about Oxford."

The tears prick at her eyes again, and this time she decides to let them fall. "You've always been there for me," she continues. "I admit, I didn't always see it. But I'll be honest, living my life twice gave me a sense of clarity that I didn't have the first time around."

Nikola frowns. "What do you mean?"

Helen inhales. "When I went back in time, I realized things about you - about us - that I hadn't before. I saw how much you cared for me, in all the little moments that I missed. The way you'd insist on carrying my books at the Bodleian. Or how you'd always meet me at the bench in the Botanic Gardens every year, on the anniversary of when we met."

Nikola sniffs. "That's not much of anything."

Helen can't help but laugh. "That's not all," she says. "My point is, there were so many moments like that, when you'd be there for me or show up for me in some small way. Like the roses you used to leave me when I was struggling with my studies. Or when you offered to let me stay with you after everything happened with John."

Nikola swallows. "I was worried about you."

"I know," Helen replies. "And that's just it. You've always been looking out for me, in your own way. And not just in the little things, but in the big things too. When you first took the Source Blood, you were suffering so much. But even then you fought so hard to control yourself because you didn't want to hurt me." She wipes a tear away with the back of her hand. "When I told you about Ashley, you didn't turn me away, you tried to help me find a solution that would let me keep her and have her in a time when it was safer for both of us. After the Titanic sank, you found me among the survivors and looked after me for months, even though I know it wasn't easy for you. And it would take far too long to list all of the times you've saved my life on some mission or expedition, not because you wanted something from me, but because you genuinely cared."

Nikola's eyes begin to glisten, but he seems to be at a loss for words. Helen takes that as her cue to continue.

"You say you can't do anything but take. But you've given me so much. Even in the moments when you've done something utterly insane to piss me off." She sniffles, smiling through her tears. "You're always there, and you always have been. Protecting me, challenging me, dragging me on some crazy adventure. Making me laugh when I have very little to laugh about. You've been a part of my life for so long, I can't imagine living it without you."

Nikola takes a shuddering breath. "Helen, what are you saying?"

Helen goes quiet. The words are there again, no longer in the back of her mind, but on the tip of her tongue, begging to be spoken. Her heart starts to race. Once they leave her lips, she won't be able to take them back. Everything between them will change even more than it has already, and she'll have to face it head-on instead of running away like she always has.

But right now, looking into his eyes, she knows without a doubt that it's finally time to stand still.

Time slows as Helen lifts her hand to Nikola's cheek. His brows raise in apprehension, but she leans forward, hoping her closeness will reassure him. One long, agonizing moment passes between them. And then, at last, Helen opens her mouth, speaking the words she has denied him for too long.

"I love you, Nikola Tesla."

Nikola's breath catches in his throat. His eyes grow wide with shock as his body goes rigid, a million emotions flickering across his face. His lips tremble as he attempts to speak.

"W-what?"

Helen leans in even closer. "Volim te," she whispers. "I žao mi je što mi je trebalo toliko dugo da to kažem."

I love you. And I'm sorry it's taken me so long to say it.

A choking sound escapes Nikola's throat. Then it turns into a sob. And then he folds.

His body starts to shake, his head dropping as a surge of tears overtakes him. Helen reaches for him, cupping his face with both hands. "It's okay," she murmurs. "It's okay."

He shakes his head. "You don't mean it," he chokes. "You can't."

"I do," Helen insists, pressing her forehead to his. "I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it."

"But - "

"No buts. I love you, Nikola. And if I have to spend the rest of my life proving it to you, then I will."

He pulls away to look at her, his eyes brimming with so much love and adoration it makes her go weak in the knees. It's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen, and the sight makes her tears fall even faster.

"Say something," she breathes.

Nikola's mouth opens and closes, but nothing comes out.

"What?" Helen laughs. "Have I finally rendered the great Nikola Tesla speechless?"

He answers her with a kiss.

Helen immediately melts into him. Her lips part with a sigh as he pulls her close, so close it's as if their bodies and breaths are one. Nikola's arm wraps around her waist, crushing her to his chest, while his other hand buries itself in her hair. He tilts her head towards him, breathing her name as if it's now the only word in the world that exists to him. Helen whimpers, more tears streaming down her face, and she clutches every inch of him she can grab onto. His collar, his vest, his neck, his hair - her hands are everywhere, wanting to feel all of him but somehow never having enough.

Nikola responds in kind, letting his hands roam and leave scorching trails across her body. Helen shivers and gasps his name, her voice hungry with need. She's so desperate to become a part of him and for him to become a part of her, that she doesn't care if some unsuspecting restaurant patron accidentally walks in on them. The only thing that matters to her now is surrendering to Nikola as he surrenders to her. She loves him. Oh, god, she loves him. That admission, that truth, now out in the open, makes this moment far more beautiful and breathtaking than any kiss or embrace they've ever shared.

Ages pass before they part for air. When they do, another whimper escapes Helen's throat, and she pulls Nikola's forehead against hers before he can retreat any farther. He sighs, nudging her nose with his as his warm breath dances across her lips.

"Pinch me," he murmurs.

Helen frowns. "What?"

"Pinch me," Nikola repeats. "So I know that this is real."

His eyes are still closed, and Helen suspects he's afraid of opening them to find that she's disappeared. Heart twisting at the thought, she does as he asks, pinching him on the arm where his rolled shirt sleeve meets his elbow.

"Ow!" he cries, jerking away from her. "What are you trying to do, kill me?"

Helen shoots him an incredulous look. "You asked me to pinch you!"

"Well, I didn't expect you to claw my arm off."

Helen rolls her eyes. "I did not. God, you're insufferable."

A smirk spreads across his face. "But you love me."

Helen shakes her head. She's really done it now. "You're never going to shut up about this, are you?"

"What? About the fact that you love me?"

"Oh, here we go."

"Hey, you're the one who said it."

"Well don't make me take it back."

At that, his expression falters. "You won't, will you?"

His voice sounds so small that it makes Helen's heart ache with regret. "Of course not," she murmurs, lifting a hand back to his cheek. "Now that I've said it, I can't take it back even if I wanted to."

Nikola swallows. "But you don't want to, right?"

Helen smiles softly. "No."

Nikola's lips curl into a goofy grin, causing warmth to blossom in Helen's chest. Her stomach does a little flip, and she decides to kiss him again.

This kiss is softer, slower, and achingly sweet. Helen cradles Nikola's face as his hand slides back into her hair. His thumb gently traces the outline of her ear before he pulls away and starts peppering kisses across her jaw. Helen sighs and tilts her head, shuddering when his lips make their way to her neck.

He's nuzzling her shoulder when Helen finds the breath to speak again. "Nikola," she whispers, curling her fingers into his hair, "if there's something you want to ask me, you can."

It takes him a moment before he registers her words. When they finally sink in, he stiffens and pulls back. "I don't know if I should."

Helen blinks in surprise. "Why not?"

Nikola takes a breath. "Well, for starters, I don't have the ring with me."

She smiles. "I don't need a ring to answer."

His face blushes scarlet. "Well, the thing is," he splutters, "I wasn't exactly planning on asking right away."

Helen's stomach drops. "Oh."

"It's not like that," Nikola says quickly, moving his hand to her cheek. "I just wanted to find the right moment. And then when you told me about all that blood binding nonsense, I got to thinking that maybe I shouldn't ask at all."

Helen doesn't miss the pain that flashes through his eyes. "Have you changed your mind?"

Nikola inhales. "After that conversation, I was set on never asking. But now..."

His expression softens. Helen's heart swells with affection again, and she takes his hand in hers and brings it to her lips. "I want you to ask," she murmurs. "Whenever you're ready, that is."

He blinks. "You really mean that?"

She nods. "Yes. And when you find the right moment, I'll be waiting."

Nikola's eyes fill with tears again. "God, I love you."

A rush of euphoria sweeps through her, and for a moment Helen is so dizzy with glee that she's almost afraid she might fall over. But when the moment passes and her emotions calm, a quiet warmth settles across her body, bringing with it a recognition of something she's been sure of for quite some time.

"I know."

And with that, she leans in and kisses him once more.

Chapter Text

When the time comes to leave, he almost doesn't want to.

It's not like Nikola to stay in one place for too long. But he has to admit he's enjoyed his time with the Byrnisons. Part of that, of course, has to do with a certain doctor. But if it wasn't for her, he wouldn't have met Anders and Freyja in the first place.

It's just one of many things he's grateful to her for. There are too many things on that list now to count, but thanks to her, he has all the time in the world to keep track.

One thing in particular has risen to the top of that list. It's been echoing through his mind for the past few days, overtaking all else and catapulting him into a state of giddy delirium. Helen Magnus loves him. He knows that because she said so. She said so out loud, to his face, with every ounce of sincerity in her soul. And she didn't take it back, either. As improbable as it seems, Helen Magnus loves him.

It is for that reason that Nikola has spent every night since expressing his gratitude in the best way he knows how. It's predictable, yes, but Helen hasn't complained - if anything she's done the exact opposite. He would've backed off if she had, but she's been just as hungry for him as he's been for her. He supposes their mutual desperation for each other is the inevitable byproduct of over a century's worth of denial. Emotional denial, he's realized, starves you far more than its mere physical counterpart. It carves your heart out and leaves you bleeding with desire, desire to heal the wound with a remedy just beyond your reach. So when that remedy is finally within your grasp, it's like stumbling upon an oasis in the desert. No amount of water is enough to satisfy your thirst, and even if it was, you wouldn't want to stop drinking anyway.

He's drinking now - literally - taking his time as he savors the sweet decadence of Helen's blood on his tongue. Ever since the night of her confession, he hasn't been quite so hesitant to feed, although he knows it will take time to be entirely comfortable with it. A small part of him still doesn't trust himself, but Helen will stop at nothing to reassure him. Her body is twined with his and her fingers are in his hair, and feeling her so relaxed in his embrace is enough to convince him that she's safe in his arms.

Nikola lets go some moments later, pressing a kiss to Helen's throat. Her fingers curl at the nape of his neck. "I love you," she whispers, sounding breathless but content.

His heart leaps in his chest, and he pulls back to look at her. Her eyes are glowing in the morning sunlight. "Say it again, ljubavi. Please."

Helen leans forward, brushing her lips against his. "Volim te," she says, her breath warm and inviting. "Volim te sa svime što imam."

His heart leaps again as the words sink in. I love you. I love you with everything I have. "Everything you have, huh?" He grins. "Good girl."

She rolls her eyes and kisses him, silently begging him to let her in. He does, of course, opening up to her and letting her take control. It's only fair that he give her the reins when it's the only thing he can give in lieu of his blood. Helen seems to be perfectly fine with this arrangement, however, smiling against his mouth as she rolls him onto his back. Nikola wraps his arms around her, holding her close while she cradles his face.

Her fingers gently caress his cheeks, her touch sending a tidal wave of shivers down his spine. He can hear her heartbeat racing and her blood rushing through her veins, and the sensations thrill him as much as the warmth of her body does. God, he can never get enough of how alive she feels, alive and whole and his. Even when his lungs start screaming for air, he can't bring himself to let go of her.

It's Helen, then, who pulls away first. But the heat in her gaze says she's no more willing to let go than he is. Staying put, she slowly pushes his hair back, smiling when a soft purr escapes his throat.

"We could stay like this," Nikola says. "You know, in bed. All day."

Helen laughs, her eyes sparkling. "Nikola, we have a plane to catch."

"Not for several more hours. We have plenty of time to stay acquainted."

"Acquainted?" she snorts. "Is that what we're calling it now?"

Nikola grins up at her. "What would you call it, then?"

Helen grins back and traces his ears with her thumbs. "I can think of a thousand more fitting terms."

Nikola tightens his grip on her. "Then please, by all means, enlighten me."

"If I did that, then we'd be here all day."

His grin widens. "Exactly."

Helen bites her lip, her cheeks flushing. Nikola decides to take advantage of her bashfulness and tilts his head upward, brushing his lips against her jaw. "Are we reconsidering?"

He feels a shudder ripple across her skin. "It is tempting."

He trails a line of kisses to the base of her ear, smiling against her when he feels her pulse skyrocket. "Tempting enough to give in?"

Helen's breath hitches. "I suppose we have a little more time..."

Nikola smiles again. "Then I suggest we make the most of it."

If there's one thing Nikola enjoys as much as getting hopelessly lost in the woman he loves, it's how Helen behaves after the fact. Even after she slips out of bed, she's giggling and blushing like in their early days at Oxford. And, what's more, she can't seem to keep her hands off of him. They're little touches - a tap on the chest here and a stroke of the arm there - but Nikola folds every time. He adores seeing Helen like this, so comfortable and relaxed and in love. It's a side of her he's seen only once, back when John was courting her. Although he was stewing in jealousy then and lamenting the fact that his background would always be an impenetrable barrier between them, there was still a part of him that was happy to see her happy. The knife in his heart came more from the knowledge that he could never be the one to make her feel that way.

Until now, that is. He marvels at the joy on her face and the spring in her step, knowing that he is now the source of it all. It still doesn't feel quite real, not even when she gazes up at him lovingly while straightening his tie. It's so soft, so gentle, and so beautifully mundane that his heart twists into an impossible shape and lodges itself somewhere in his throat. His whole life he's spent chasing one extraordinary phenomenon after another. But he never thought that his most extraordinary discovery would be found in the midst of such an ordinary interaction.

When she finishes with his tie, Helen smooths her hands over his chest, her gaze still overflowing with affection. Without her heels she's a few inches shorter than him, so Nikola slides his finger underneath her chin and tilts her face up towards him.

"Hvala ti, moja slatka," he murmurs. Thank you, my sweet.

Helen's cheeks turn pink, and his stomach does a little backflip. Unable to help himself, he leans forward and plants a soft kiss on her lips. "Volim te," he whispers, his mouth brushing against hers.

Helen smiles. "I love you too."

Nikola kisses her again, sighing when Helen melts into him. He's in awe of how easily she molds to his touch, when before she always insisted on holding back. She doesn't hold anything back now, clutching the lapels of his vest and pulling herself against him. Her lips part when his hands begin to wander, one coming to rest on the side of her cheek and the other finding purchase on the small of her back. He could stay like this forever, reveling in the way her touch and her taste and her scent and her pulse stoke a fire inside him he doesn't have the strength to quench.

A disappointed whimper escapes his throat when she finally pulls back. "Helen," he gasps, his voice raw with need. "Bože, opojna si."

God, you're intoxicating.

Helen smiles again. "You're not so bad yourself."

He grins at that, then nuzzles her nose with his own. "It's still early. Let's go back to bed."

Helen giggles and draws back. "Nikola, we have to pack. We've already procrastinated enough."

He reaches for her again, capturing her mouth in another kiss. "We can procrastinate a little more," he whines, not caring if he sounds desperate.

He starts peppering her face with kisses, his heart fluttering at the sound of Helen's laughter. "Nikola, you do realize that it's a private jet?"

His lips make their way to her ear. "So?"

"So, we'll have the plane all to ourselves."

Nikola pulls away, a smirk worming its way across his face. "Why, Dr. Magnus, are you suggesting an in-flight tryst?"

Helen smirks back. "Only if you do what I say."

He leans his forehead against hers. "Fair enough," he whispers, heat pooling in his stomach. "I wouldn't want to get in any trouble."

Freyja is a chatterbox on the drive to the local airfield. Despite his desire to stay close to Helen, Nikola decides to sit up front with Anders. The young woman's bond with Helen hasn't been lost on him, and he can tell that she's sad to see them go. He can't help but share the sentiment. As much as he's eager to see the new Sanctuary, he wishes they could extend their stay - or, at the very least, invite Anders and Freyja along. It's unusual for him to grow attached to new people so quickly, but somehow the dragonologist and his daughter have managed to sneak past his defenses.

After an hour or so of driving, Anders pulls his truck into a lot by the airfield. He and Freyja help Nikola and Helen carry their bags to a small plane in a nearby hangar. A short, middle-aged woman is waiting inside, smiling at them as they approach.

"Are these the newlyweds?" she asks, beaming in Nikola's direction.

Nikola's face floods with heat and he shoots Helen a questioning glance. Helen merely smirks at him before turning her attention to their pilot.

"I'm Helen," she says, holding out her hand for the woman to shake. "And this is Nikola."

"Hello," Nikola mumbles, following suit.

"It's nice to meet you. I'm Astrid." The woman's gaze flits between the pair. "You know, when Anders said he had a few friends who'd decided to elope out here, I almost didn't believe him."

Nikola's eyes widen and he rounds on Helen again. She, in turn, pretends not to notice him. "Let's just say we value our privacy. We wanted to get away for awhile."

"I can see that," Astrid chuckles. "Anyway, I'm happy to lend a hand. You'll have the flight back home all to yourselves."

Home isn't exactly Old City anymore, but Nikola of course isn't about to tell her that. "Thank you," he says, trying to ignore the knowing look in her eyes. "Helen and I appreciate it."

Astrid winks, which only makes him blush harder. "I'm sure you do. Now why don't we get you two settled?"

After helping load their things onto the plane, Astrid heads off to do some pre-flight checks. That leaves Helen, Nikola, Anders, and Freyja to say their goodbyes. Nikola is taken aback when Freyja throws her arms around him.

"I'm glad we saved you from that dragon."

Warmth blossoms in Nikola's chest. "The feeling is mutual."

Freyja pulls back, her eyes glassy. "Will you come back and visit?"

Nikola grins. "Of course. That is, if your father doesn't mind me upending your lives again. I've been known to be quite disruptive."

Helen snorts, but Anders laughs and claps him on the back. "Disrupt us all you want. You're welcome anytime."

"We'll have to invite you to the new Sanctuary once Nikola's settled in," Helen says. She turns to Freyja. "And if you ever want to talk, about school or anything else -"

"I'll call," Freyja finishes, smiling. She envelops Helen in a hug. "Thank you for everything."

"I should be thanking you," Helen replies when they part. "Without you two I might've lost this one forever."

She cocks her head in Nikola's direction, a tiny smirk playing on her lips. But Nikola can still see fear lingering in her eyes. He reaches out and threads his fingers through hers. "She always thinks I need a chaperone."

"Because you do," Helen retorts. Her body, however, relaxes somewhat when Nikola squeezes her hand.

After a bit more small talk, Anders and Freyja say their final farewells. When the plane finally lifts off, the lurch in Nikola's stomach has nothing to do with the change in altitude.

Nikola is in a daze when they arrive in Old City. Being a vampire, he shouldn't be affected by either jet lag or his multiple in-flight glasses of wine. But perhaps recent events are starting to catch up with him. He doesn't even have the energy to tease Helen about her newlywed cover story, although a few light jabs still dance on the tip of his tongue. He stumbles through Helen's network of secret passageways in a stupor, letting her lead the way with barely a peep of commentary. It's only when they reach the outer grounds of the Hollow Earth Sanctuary that some spark of life reignites.

It's an impressive feat of engineering, and the scale of its interior is even more impressive than that of its exterior. But to Nikola's surprise, the thing that affects him the most is the enthusiastic greeting he receives from Helen's colleagues. The children are, quite simply, overjoyed to see him alive and well. Even Will, who has never quite approved of him, seems relieved to have him back. Henry, however, is the most emotional, holding back tears in an attempt to maintain some composure.

"You scared the hell out of us, man. Don't do that again."

Nikola has to admit he feels touched, if not a great deal guilty. "Don't worry, Wolfgang. I swear on my honor I won't."

Helen shoos them away soon after, insisting that Nikola needs his rest. Judging by the smirks on their faces, none of the children seem to believe that. But the truth is, Nikola is exhausted, and his limbs are starting to feel like jelly. He's looking forward to collapsing on whatever spare bed Helen's set aside for him, but, true to form, she has something else up her sleeve.

"I want to show you something."

Nikola bites back a groan. "Now? It'd better be a luxury spa."

Helen snorts but takes his hand, leading him to the elevator. She punches in a number and it begins to ascend. When they reach the top floor, she pulls him along as she heads down a long glass walkway that overlooks the gardens below.

"While the view is stunning," Nikola grumbles, "I don't see why this couldn't wait."

"Shh," Helen scolds. She comes to a stop in front of a large metal door. "Just close your eyes for a second."

Nikola raises an eyebrow. "Why?"

Helen sighs. "Go with me on this one?"

Nikola makes a face but complies. He hears the sound of the door hissing as it presumably slides open, then stumbles forward when Helen tugs on his hand.

"You can open them now."

The sight that greets him takes his breath away.

A lab stretches out before him. It's larger and more elaborate than any workspace he's had in years, and it's topped by a large glass roof, which lets in the simulated sunlight Helen has somehow managed to rig up down here. Pristine metal tables occupy the floor, while the walls overflow with shelves of supplies. He recognizes familiar topside tools, while others appear foreign to him. He assumes those are Praxian tech. Nikola's jaw drops as he takes it all in, his mind going blank with shock.

"There's more," Helen says.

Nikola's eyes widen. "More?"

Helen blushes and leads him to another door on the other side of the room. It opens to reveal a small passageway, then yet another door, then -

"An aviary?"

Helen nods as they both step inside. This room is covered entirely by a dome of glass, and filled with an assortment of perches and plants. A few rainbow-plumed birds already occupy the space, chirping in surprise at the new arrivals.

"There's a species here that's quite like your pigeons," Helen explains. "Unfortunately they're endangered. I thought you'd be interested in helping with the conservation effort."

Nikola lets out a breath. "You built all this for me?"

"Do you like it?"

He turns to Helen, a lump rising in his throat. "Why?"

Helen blinks. "Why what?"

"Why this?" He waves a hand out in front of him.

Helen dips her chin. "I'd always planned on it," she says softly. "In fact, this whole space was one of the first things I thought of."

"But why -"

"Because I wanted you here," she interrupts. "I've always wanted you to stay."

Helen's gaze meets his, her eyes brimming with tears. Nikola tries to blink away his own.

"I've always wanted you to ask."

"Well," Helen murmurs, taking his other hand, "consider this me asking."

Nikola steps forward, nearly closing the space between them. "You're sure you won't get tired of me?"

"Oh, Nikola," Helen laughs, "If I was capable of getting tired of you, I would've kicked you to the curb a long time ago."

"Your mistake," Nikola quips, but his heart is so full it's making his head swim.

"So?" Helen asks, her lips now a breath away. "Are you going to give me an answer?"

Nikola's smile almost splits his face in two. "Just consider this me saying yes."

And without another word, he seals their future with a kiss.