The last time Herc had enjoyed anything remotely close to a social life was before Chuck was born. Much earlier, he reckoned, because he joined up with the Air Force fairly young, and that kept him from much of the activities that other young men his age had enjoyed. He’d gotten married young, had a child young, and then after his wife died, his focus had fallen solely on revenge.
Atlantis, however, had been a chance for a different life, and he knew that Angela and Chuck would’ve wanted that for him. They wouldn’t have wanted him to wallow any more, so he’d been trying.
He’d very nearly clammed up around Helen once Chuck arrived, unsure of how to handle that explanation. They’d struck up a friendship after attending the ball together, and Herc had realised that he’d forgotten how nice it was to talk to someone who understood what he’d been through. He could almost hear Angela’s voice in his head, telling him I told you so.
The Old White Lion was still as cozy as when they’d first walked in for a drink, and the longer they sat there, the more relaxed he felt. “Another round?” he asked, leaning forward slightly against the table of their booth. “What time is it, anyway? Feels like it’s grown late, but I’ve no bloody clue where the time went.”
As Helen got to know Herc more in the days following the Sadie Hawkin’s dance she was reminded of how wonderful it was to have someone she could freely talk to. Sure, she had close acquaintances throughout the Sanctuary Network - not to mention Will under the same roof - but most of them just saw Helen the leader. If she was anything other than the perfectly poised Helen Magnus it would tarnish that image that they had of her. But with Herc Hansen that wasn’t the case. He was simply a man who understood her pain on a level that the others couldn’t because he too had experienced something similar.
And speaking of Herc, it definitely hadn’t escaped her notice that he had started to pull away following the recent influx of arrivals. She had theories on why and if she was right - which she often was - Helen understood. And frankly she might have done the same. But just as soon as that had started everything returned to normal and they were once again gracing a table at the Old White Lion.
“Another round sounds lovely,” she replied and then finished off the little bit of wine that remained in her glass.
A quick glance around informed her that it had gotten later as there were fewer people than when they had arrived. But she honestly couldn’t tell how much time had passed as it hadn’t felt like any time had passed at all.
“How did it get so late so soon? It’s night before it’s afternoon. December is here before it’s June. My goodness how the time has flewn. How did it get so late so soon?”
It’d been a while since he’d heard that quote, and it brought a smile to his face. “Seuss, is it?” He’d grown up on his books, and raised his own son on them, too. At least until Chuck felt like he’d outgrown his childhood. “It’s a question for the ages. How does it go by so fast?” It was a rhetorical question, so he didn’t linger for an answer, sliding out of the booth with ease. “Be right back.”
Herc wasn’t gone long, and when he returned, he put anothe glass down in front of her before sitting back down. “This is going to sound… well, I think you’ll understand, but I keep expecting to see Max underfoot. I know he’s in good hands --” Herc had left him with Chuck, because even though Chuck didn’t think he had that right as much anymore, Herc wanted them to have enough time together, too.
Helen smiled in response and then leaned back against the booth. There were a few glances thrown her way but she didn’t pay them any mind. Instead she allowed her mind to drift to memories of when Ashley and Henry were young. To nights where they refused to sleep unless she or her old friend read them one of Theodore’s stories. Or in some cases two or three.
If she focused real hard she could hear Ashley saying, “Please, mummy. Just one more” and it brought to the surface that ache that was always in her heart. But once Herc returned with their drinks she pushed that ache aside and focused on him once more.
When his voice trailed off mid-sentence Helen gave him an understanding look and pushed her wine glass slightly to the right. With the glass out of the way she reached out with her left hand and grabbed a hold of his free one. “I do understand.”
Her hand was warm on his, and it made Herc think about just how long it’d been since he’d accepted that sort of affection from anyone, let alone a woman. He and Chuck hadn’t hugged much at all in the last few years of Chuck’s life. He’d spent most of his years without Angela pushing people away instead, isolating himself, going to bed alone. He’d tried, a few years in, but it hadn’t felt right then. Not like this had, like it was the most normal thing in the world.
“Guess I got used to having him around all the time. Chuck deserves some time on his own, though.” He was saying it more to remind himself that it was okay, that he and his dog didn’t need to be glued to each other, that he didn’t need to hover around Chuck all the time. It didn’t quite sit well with him to talk about Chuck when Helen’s daughter wasn’t around, though. He knew she wouldn’t hold it against him, but he didn’t want to rub salt in any wounds. He flipped his hand around so he could give hers a squeeze. “I’m sorry she’s not here, too.”
Helen knew all too well what Herc was actually saying. She had behaved similarly following Ashley’s passing. First with the abnormals in her care followed closely by taking risks to bring in new abnormals. Having them close by made everything the slightest bit more bearable. And if she was perfectly honest with herself the ever-present pain she still felt over the loss of her daughter factored into why she chose to keep Amelia following their return to Atlantis. With Amelia she once again gained that close companionship that had been missing for many years. The companionship that her close friends and allies couldn’t possibly provide.
“Thank you,” Helen said as she returned the gesture. “I want you to know that I’m so very happy that you were reunited with your son. And please don’t ever feel as if you need to stop yourself from talking about him.”
Herc knew she meant what she was saying, but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel guilty, a bit. Grateful, yes, but there was a twinge of guilt that he’d gotten what he’d wished for and other people might not have. Herc was trying not to kick a gift horse in the mouth. It wasn’t easy, not when he knew how he’d feel if the roles were reversed.
Chuck’s presence was also heavy with the knowledge that he might not be able to stay. Herc didn’t know how he’d handle that yet.
He let go of the breath he’d been holding and smiled, a little sheepish. “All right, I’ll try to remember that.” He took a sip of his beer, trying to use that to diffuse his own awkwardness. “I think he’s doin’ all right, here. I hope so, anyway. He showed up right from the middle of the last battle, so it’s --” He sighed. “It’s hard to know. Chuck’s never been easy to read, and we spent a lot of time in each other’s heads.”
Helen feeling that her glass of wine had breathed enough took a sip of her drink and waited for Herc to continue. It was clear to her that all he needed right now was someone to listen. And she was more than willing to be that person. Any questions she had could wait until later.
“He and I have only spoken briefly and -- other than an encounter with Atlantean mistletoe -- he appeared to be doing all right,” Helen said.
“He’s gonna keep a lot in,” Herc commented, and he blamed himself for that. He did the same thing, so it was no wonder Chuck had followed in his footsteps in a lot of ways. Chuck veered away from his father in others, but that was one area in which they ran parallel to each other. “Put on a tough front, you know? He’s not as okay as he pretends to be.”
He feared Chuck would be angry if he knew that Herc had told someone that much, especially someone that Chuck didn’t know well personally, but truthfully, Herc needed an outlet. It was one of the things he’d done wrong for all the years after Angela’s death. He shouldn’t have hid away.
“I think the mistletoe came out all right for him in the end, anyway,” he added with a smile.
“Yes, I do believe it did,” Helen said, quietly laughing. “In fact, I believe I counted more than one admirer willing to give him a hand before I closed the window.”
“My Ashley was very much like your son during her final days,” she added a moment later, her eyes shifting to stare at her glass of wine.
The relationship that Helen had with her daughter had been something special. There had been nothing that Ashley wouldn’t eventually share with her. And then her secrets were revealed and suddenly things were different. Strained, to be more precise. Before her eyes was an Ashley that she had no idea how to approach. And then before Helen could even begin to make ammends her daughter had been taken from them. “Perhaps if I had been more honest with her…”
“Hey,” he started, his voice gentle. “We could drown ourselves in what ifs. God knows I tried.”
If he hadn’t broken his collar bone, if someone else had been available to run the payload, if it hadn’t gotten jammed, if he’d never signed up for the PPDC in the first place... Herc knew how easy it could be to go down that path. The problem was that path never had any answers, only more questions. Of course, that still didn’t stop him from wondering, now and then. “I am sorry you didn’t get the time, though. And I wish there was something I could do to help.”
“You’re right. And now is truly not the time to drown ourselves in what ifs,” Helen said as a quick memory of a conversation much like this one quickly flashed through her mind.
Though it had been a good century ago it was still so vividly clear in her mind. Her dinner companion that evening had given her similar advice in the hopes that she would make an effort to move on. But instead of moving on Helen went and did the exact opposite. She took her “what ifs” and set out on a journey to make them a reality. All without damaging the timeline that she would one day have to step back into. And with many of them she succeeded.
But that was then and this was now. Circumstances were different now and perhaps it was time that she took the advice given at that dinner from so long ago. “As am I, but thank you. And, for the record, what you’re doing right now is helping.”
“Well,” Herc started, ducking his head a little in a vain attempt to hide his smile. Given their close quarters, there wasn’t going to be much he could hide, from how glad he was to know he wasn’t making a mess out of it to how it felt to connect with another person on a deeper level. Herc could count the number of people he’d truly let in on one hand. A few others knew some, but he’d kept most people at a distance.
He tried to brush off the bashfulness by finishing off what was left of his beer. “Guess I’ll have to keep doing it, then.” If he concentrated really hard, he could hear Angela’s voice in his head, gently scolding him for never listening before. He was sure she’d always known the truth. She’d always known everything, as far as he could tell.
A rather satisfied smirk slowly began to take form on her face when Herc ducked his head. With just a few words she had unintentionally ellicited from him a response that, during her youth - and despite her Victorian upbringing - she had always sought to pull from her companions. And while Helen wouldn’t be admitting it anytime soon, it pleased her greatly to know that she was still capable of elliciting such responses.
“Please do,” Helen said as she took another sip of her wine.
“Which is it,” he asked, “going for drinks? Talking? All of it? Just so I know where to start. I’m a bit rusty and all. I might fuck it all up like that.” Herc snapped his fingers in emphasis. “If I’m not careful.”
“All of the above,” she answered and then a second later - with an impish grin - Helen added, “Though perhaps we should add a proper meal next time.”
Although he still worried that he was going to fuck it up, Herc found himself nodding his head in agreement. “We can do that.” He hesitated, trying to ignore the flush on his neck and his cheeks. It wasn’t just the alcohol, and he knew that. “It’s a date.”
Saying that left him feeling vulnerable and torn wide open, though, and he didn’t know what to do with that energy. “I’m gonna go close the tab. Don’t go anywhere,” he told her as he slid out from the booth again. It was probably a bit cowardly to run - and Herc really didn’t want it to come across like that, but he wasn’t used to having feelings for another woman beyond professional respect.
The thought that crossed his mind on his way back, when he got caught in an open doorway between the main room and the one where their booth was, was that it certaintly felt like Atlantis knew he needed another shove in the right direction. “Uh.”
Helen had been a second away from reminding Herc to breathe when he slid out of the booth to close their tab. And for a very brief moment she was hurt that he chose to step out when he did. But then the more rational side of her brain stepped in.
There had been a time when she would have done the same. In fact, at the start of her relationship with James she had. But he hadn’t taken any offense to her running off for air and instead patiently awaited her return. And in the days that followed he was quite patient with her. Which allowed her to open herself up to the possibility of love at her own pace. And so, Helen, decided to follow his example and pushed aside the initial hurt she felt. Tonight Herc had opened himself up and she would patiently wait while he came to terms with what that all meant.
When a few minutes went by and Herc hadn’t returned, Helen took a quick glance around and noticed that it was even emptier than before. Fearing that she had perhaps pushed him a little too far she quickly finished her glass of wine, slid out of the booth and grabbed both of their coats. If he had merely stepped outside she planned on handing over his coat and suggesting that they go their separate ways for the evening. And if he had been pushed too far and had left for the evening - though she highly doubted that was the case - she would reach out to him in a day and offer to return his coat.
As she approached the doorway to the room their booth was in she was pleased to see that he hadn’t left yet. “There you are. I was afraid I might have pushed you a bit too far.”
The relief that crossed Herc’s face when he saw Helen was plain as day, but it was replaced with concern a moment later when he realised she thought he’d left her. “No, no,” he answered quickly. “Nothing like that. Not at all.” He’d spent the last few minutes - between leaving and returning - second-guessing himself and doubting how his own behaviour might be interpreted; finding out that he’d made her worry made his heart sink a little.
To reassure her, he reached out for one of her hands. He gestured up towards the top of the doorway with his other hand, where there was a sprig of mistletoe. “Got stuck is all. This has been -- I told you I’d muck it up, didn’t I? This has been really, really good.” You can salvage this, Hansen, he told himself. “And now I could use some help. If -- if you don’t mind.”
Helen knew the moment it had crossed her mind that it was impossible. She hadn’t known him long but there was one thing she had picked up on early on. Hercules Hansen just wasn’t the sort of man to do such a thing. No matter how uncomfortable he was.
And as he reached for her hand and then gestured to the mistletoe above him she felt a little bit foolish for even considering it. Here he was trapped beneath Atlantis’ latest shenanigan and waiting to be rescued. All the while she had been considering the possibility of him having left her behind. You’re a bloody idiot Helen,” she thought to herself.
“I don’t mind at all,” Helen said with a smile. “But are you sure?”
A year ago he wouldn’t have been able to say yes, but so much had changed since then. They’d won the war, he’d lost his son (and gained him back in the most unlikely way, even if just for a while), and he’d tried to pick up the pieces. After losing Stacker and Chuck, Herc was staring down the road of his life alone. There was a war here, that was true, but it didn’t feel the same as it had to watch kaiju ravage cities. He’d never expected to survive that in the first place, so why would he plan for it?
His life was different now, and he looked at Helen with certainty. “I’m sure. Now come here,” he insisted with a grin on his face, and he tugged on her hand until she was crowding his personal space. They might as well enjoy it, he thought as he leaned forward to kiss her, sweeping his other hand up to cup her jaw gently.
The rather girlish giggle that escaped her lips as Herc tugged her forward would have normally mortified her. She was far too old to be making such sounds. Especially in public. But no sooner had it escaped did Helen find herself placing her free hand - coat and all- against his side, before connecting their lips in the first of hopefully many kisses.
“Have we succeeded in setting you free,” Helen asked with a beaming smile once their kiss came to an end. “Or should we give it another try?”
Herc tested the waters by moving one foot to the side, just enough to prove it’d worked, but he didn’t make an effort to move any farther away than that. Instead, he leaned in and brushed his lips against the corner of her mouth as he spoke, “I say we give it another go. Just in case.”