Who: Helen Magnus & Helena Wells When: Mid-April Where: A café somewhere? What: Being British. Rating/Warnings: Some mention of losing a child, comments on divorce, and talk of cancer. Status: Complete!
Over the last decade, Helen had perfected a method of avoiding personal relationships outside of her family and a few old friends. It mostly involved working every moment she could spare, with the occasional hobby for distraction when her workload was too light. She didn’t want to be hurt again. There were few she hadn’t pushed away, few who remained loyal despite her best efforts after the divorce. Eventually, she’d convinced herself that was all she would ever have, that she wasn’t good for the people around her.
After the dreams had started, that feeling had only gotten worse. Everything she touched fell apart. And everyone she loved, she lost.
Somehow, though, Helena had gotten past her defenses. Perhaps because she understood her better than she did most. It seemed they had much in common. Both mothers, both British to a fault, both remembering an unimaginable loss.
Whatever the reasons, she’d began letting herself think of Helena as a friend. Which was why she had agreed to meet her for lunch.
She arrived early, too early, finding a seat and settling in to wait.
Helena had made an art of keeping people at an arm’s length, or further, for the past nine years. Part of her was still hurting over her ex-boyfriend leaving her the instant she told him she was pregnant. Ever since, she’d kept her heart under very close guard and dating was more or less non-existent. She did date, but she never went for more than two dates with the same person. She preferred sex with no strings attached because she was afraid of being hurt.
At least until she’d met Harley. For reasons Helena didn’t know, Harley had worked her way behind her defenses, and she did have feelings for her, she was merely avoiding them. She’d rather keep it to a friends-with-benefits relationship, or an open relationship once they both got to actually talking.
And then there was Helen, someone that Helena could understand without needing to speak words, and someone who could understand her. They both had lost their daughters in their dreams. And to be honest, Helena was starting to become unhinged in the same way her dream self was. But she was able to keep it together most of the time.
Helen was one of the only people she felt she could talk to who understood the pains she had from her dreams without needing an explanation. And she simply enjoyed talking with her, and she was even counting her as a friend, something she knew she needed more of these days. Especially if she was going to lose it the way her dream self was, someone would need to be around to stop her.
She arrived at the café a little early, though she saw Helen was already there. Heading over to the table she got, she gave her a friendly smile as she took the seat opposite Helen.
“Good afternoon,” she greeted. “How are you?”
Helen returned the smile, finding it came a little more easily in the other woman’s presence. “Well enough.”
The truth was, she’d been better. She’d been dreaming about a lot of old friends lately, not all pleasant memories. And it seemed nearly every dream was a reminder of her daughter’s death. Even knowing Ashley was very much alive and well, talking to her nearly every day, on some level she still felt as though she’d lost her.
It hadn’t helped to learn she was dreaming, each memory driving her closer to her own death. She couldn’t tell her. Nor could she ask her to leave. Would that even guarantee the dreams would stop?
She didn’t know what to do or say, and there was nothing she could do to prevent it. She could only hope that, for once, the dreams wouldn’t follow through to reality.
“And you?”
Oh Helena could read into that response. She didn’t have to know Helen intimately to know she wasn’t doing that well. After all, Helena was doing precisely the same, or potentially worse depending upon one’s assessment of both of their dreams.
Helena was more than afraid that her dreams would bleed into reality and Christina would become affected by them. Either by her disappearing or by Helena losing her mind and doing something stupid. Which, well, she already had done something a bit reckless that she shouldn’t have.
“The same as you,” she responded. “I have rather been questioning my sanity on some days of late.” Most notably that time in the desert with Harley and those guns.
“Aren’t we all?” She knew very well that wasn’t what she meant, but she also didn’t know that talking about losing one’s mind was necessarily the key to preventing it. And where the dreams were concerned, she was almost convinced it would only make matters worse.
Helen understood feeling like she was becoming the person she dreamed of being, a woman who had given so much to her work, lost nearly everyone she cared about, then was forced to watch it all play out again.
If their earlier conversations were anything to go by, Helena had taken her daughter’s death even harder than she had taken Ashley’s. Helen had seen where that could lead, watched it happen to Adam in her dreams. He’d had such anger, fought so hard to change Imogene’s fate. And there had been no one to blame for her death, yet he had spent more than a century blaming Helen for being unable to perform a miracle.
She did hope Helena wouldn’t lose herself to a similar madness, that when it tried to claim her, there would be someone to see her through it.
“I assume you’re still dreaming, then?” Of course, she knew she was. But it was only polite to behave as though she didn’t. “I sometimes think the sole purpose of the Dreams is to teach us everything about ourselves that we didn’t want to know.”
Oh Helena had a couple people that could help see her through it. The trick of it all was that she listened and let them help her. Helena was far too proud for her own good, far too British. It seemed to be a trait inherent to both her and her dream self, not simply to one or the other.
Helen was correct, though, that Helena had taken Christina’s loss in the dreams quite hard. Of course, that had probably been exacerbated by the fact she and Christina had been trapped in that bookshop when it was set on fire. She nearly had lost her daughter in this life as well as in her dreams. Helena refused to ever let that happen as long as she could possibly do something about it.
“I am, yes. And I would agree with your assessment. I really do not want to know about my dream self and what I could be capable of.” Helena already knew her dream self was heading for a fall. Helena herself almost felt the exact same way, though she could still pull herself back from it at times.
Helen understood that as well. She had her own pride, though far less here than she did in the dreams. In fact, most of her personality traits seemed less in the real world. She sometimes thought she was an entirely different woman than the one she dreamt about. But she knew better. There were too many similarities to ignore.
"I believe I've already seen what I'm capable of."
She'd watched 113 years worth of mistakes play out, let terrible things happen, and she'd never once tried to change any of them. Not only had she gotten a glimpse of what she was capable of, but she'd felt her own refusal to change it.
"She's started dreaming, my daughter." It must have seemed a sudden shift in the conversation, an abrupt confession following a brief silence. But it had been on her mind for weeks, and she had no one to tell. No one she was willing to tell. Those she trusted most weren't among the dreamers; they only would have thought her mad.
The similarities certainly couldn’t be ignored. Helena was no where near the side of Victorian mannerisms and such that her dream self was, nor was she a prolific inventor and innovator, but there were many similarities in personality and general mannerisms. Helena most definitely didn’t ignore them.
Helena wanted to believe that she knew exactly what her dream self was fully capable of, but she had a feeling worse things were coming in the future dreams. Things Helena didn’t precisely want to see. Unfortunately, no one could control their dreams, even moreso with these dreams tied to another life.
Hearing Helen’s admission, Helena looked at her, eyes widening slightly with shock. She suddenly felt a fear of wondering if Christina would also start dreaming. And if she did…
“Does she dream of the same world you do?” Helena asked gently. It seemed a poignant question to establish if one’s child could dream of the same world, or if they would instead dream of something else.
"She does. More than that, they're the same dreams." She amended that slightly, "Her view of them at least."
Even worse, they seemed to be progressing in a certain order, starting at a point all too near her death. And according to her last post, Ashley was already dreaming of the Cabal. If she only knew the enemy they would become, the way they would turn her against the Sanctuary.
"They've already affected her." It was the injuries she was referring to, of course, but she didn't know how aware Helena was of the dreams' ability to bleed into reality, if she'd ever had her dream self's physical state follow her into reality.
Given Helen had already more or less told Helena of Ashley’s fate in the dreams, she already knew why Helen would be upset with this revelation. Helena would no doubt feel the very same way if Christina ever started dreaming. As such, she didn’t have an initial verbal response. Instead, she reached out to set a hand over Helen’s in a comforting manner. A silent way of telling her she more than understood she was afraid.
“Injuries?” Helena asked, though it was more rhetorical than anything. “I have not suffered ill effects from my dreams, but I do know people can suffer injuries sustained in the dreams.” And, of course, the fear then extended to the simple fact that Helen would no doubt be afraid that if Ashley dreamt of her death, that death would then carry over into this life.
Again, she didn’t really know what to say about that, but she more than understood a mother’s fear. The simple fact that there was nothing Helen could do to stop Ashley’s dreams or protect her from them was without a doubt a mother’s worst fear come to life.
Helen’s gaze momentarily dropped to the hand covering her own, eyes that betrayed her every emotion showing just how close she was to falling apart. She had never been averse to casual physical contact. In fact, she probably appreciated it more than most. But it had been so long since she’d felt that simple gesture of comfort and understanding.
It was nearly enough to break her careful composure, and so she only managed a nod in response to Helena’s question at first. It was a few moments more before she could form a proper answer, “Nothing serious, a few minor scrapes that looked worse than they were.”
Just as she’d woken with aches and bruises on occasion, perhaps a minor concussion once or twice. But if minor injuries could transfer into the waking world, what was to stop something more serious? She couldn’t lose her again. Not here. Not in this reality.
“They were identical.” To the injuries she knew Ashley had received in the dreams, injuries she remembered tending. It truly was her worst nightmare.
Helena did enjoy physical touch as well. It helped her ground herself sometimes, and she was a physical person. She was, however, careful when it came to people she was still building friendships with. There were times Helena tended to push boundaries or ignore personal space, though that typically was only when she had an attraction to someone. But when Helen didn’t move her hand away from the touch, Helena gave her hand a gentle squeeze.
Her dark eyes focused on Helen, able to read the emotion quite easily on her. It was something only someone with empathy or was a parent themselves could read easily. It was an emotion Helena understood innately, especially with the dreams she had. And it was the fact that both she and Helen had lost their daughters in their dreams that she felt even more for the other woman.
“I understand how scared you must be. It is a mother’s worst fear that she cannot protect her child from such things, especially knowing what transpires in the dreams.” Helena’s voice was soft, and she gave Helen’s hand another comforting squeeze. There was little she could actually say to try and quell Helen’s fears for Helena herself didn’t have the answers. All she could do was to offer her support, an ear and a shoulder.
Newly forming friendship or not, it was immensely comforting, being able to feel the warmth of another human being, to know she wasn't alone and that someone understood what she was feeling. And she was grateful for it.
"I could ask her to leave."
Of course, she knew Ashley would never agree to that, and she'd likely think something was terribly wrong with Helen for asking. But it would have been something; she would have been trying. And she couldn't bring herself to do it.
"I nearly lost her once, Helena."
“Would asking her to leave be something she would even do? And for that matter, would leaving this place even stop the dreams?” Helena very much doubted that once the dreams started that they would stop until they were done.
Which wasn’t exactly comforting, especially knowing that Ashley would die. Still, while asking Ashley to leave may be an attempt at doing something about it, it wouldn’t be for the best. At least Helena didn’t think so, anyway. It would only lead to potentially worse discussions between Helen and Ashley.
Though at the second statement, there was something about it that made Helena think she was talking about something that had happened outside the dreams. Helen wouldn’t have phrased it quite that way if she had, indeed, been talking about the dreams.
“You did?” She wasn’t pushing for Helen to tell her, it was an open offer, really. It was a question that could be responded to with a simple nod or a yes and nothing more. Or Helen could give her details. It was completely up to Helen how she answered.
"No, she wouldn't." There was a certainty in that. Even if Helen shared the reasons behind the request, she doubted Ashley would leave. She didn't have an answer to the next question, however, so she chose to ignore it. If they couldn't escape the dreams, there truly was nothing to be done. It made Ashley's fate seem inevitable.
Glancing up, she met Helena's eyes, answering the last softly, "I did. It certainly felt that way. Leukemia."
Daughters could certainly be stubborn sometimes. Helena had learned that rather quickly with Christina, so it wasn’t a surprise that Ashley would not leave if Helen told her to. Nor was she actually that surprised that Helen didn’t respond to her next question. It had been more rhetorical considering she doubted no one had an answer to it. Either that or the answer was that leaving didn’t stop the dreams and that wasn’t something Helen would want to hear either.
Though upon hearing what Ashley and Helen had gone through, Helena couldn’t help but to feel even more for the both of them. Leukemia, and cancer in general, wasn’t something anyone should go through and to know someone as young as Ashley had gone through it? That was terrible by all stretches of the imagination.
“That’s not something anyone should have to go through. Though I am certain the experience made her stronger as she survived.” It certainly spoke to the fighting spirit Ashley must have.
“No. It isn’t. And yet it happens.” She’d never quite moved past the fear, but she’d long ago let go of the anger. She knew, despite everything, the toll it had taken, they were luckier than some.
She gives Helena a bit of a smile. “The truth is, she’s always been stronger than me. And I’ve absolutely no idea where she got her stubborn streak from.”
That might have been a weak attempt at lightening the conversation. “She’s a fighter, always has been. I think she inherited all of our strongest traits.”
Which could be considered good or bad, depending on how one chose to view it. Helen was of the opinion it was a good thing, John’s worst traits were tempered by some of her better ones in their daughter. In her mind, Ashley represented everything about them that had worked together.
Cancer was one of the many diseases that Helena hoped to see cures for over the course of her life. Or at the very least that the next generation would see those cures. No one should have to suffer like that, especially when they were young.
At the comment meant to lighten the conversation, Helena smiled softly. “Possibly the same place my daughter got her stubborn streak from.”
Helena brushed some hair behind her ear. “That is always something that shall work to her favor.” And Helena understood the best of both parents. Christina, fortunately, was turning out to be far more like herself than her father, which was a blessing. But every so often, Christina had a way of saying or doing something that reminded her of her ex-boyfriend.
“I believe children always are the best of their parents. Or that they at least have the potential to be.” Helena well knew she’d inherited some of her mother’s less-than-savory personality traits, but she had enough of her father in her to temper them for the most part.
That would be a desire they shared. What she couldn't forgive was how senseless it was, how indiscriminate.
"Perhaps. Just wait until she gets a little older." Stubborn children grew into even more stubborn adults. Of course, most days she wouldn't have it any other way. It certainly made things more of a challenge, but Helen liked a good challenge. And she saw the value in her daughter's fiery personality.
Helen nodded slightly. "I'm not certain John and I were ever particularly well-suited to each other, but we did alright with her."
She was agreeing, in her way. Some days she saw far too much of John in Ashley, and not always his better qualities. But she knew Ashley had enough of her restraint not to follow his example.
“I shall certainly hope that I am ready for that when that day comes.” Which it was coming far too fast. Christina’s ninth birthday was right around the corner, which also meant puberty wasn’t that far off. Helena was going to dread that time period, especially if her daughter took her own personality traits. It would make for some very trying times during the teenage years.
“If anything, at least the two of you produced a wonderful daughter.” Helena paused momentarily. “Christina’s father wanted nothing to do with her. He left me the instant I told him I was pregnant.” It wasn’t told easily, and she still carried that pain around. Still, she did the best she could with Christina.
“Children are a gift that not everyone recognizes the value of.” Which was far too true.
This time it was Helen’s turn to comfort, turning her wrist and giving Helena’s hand a gentle squeeze. John at least had loved their daughter, had taken care of her when she was ill. He’d been a good father when they were together. And after, well, she hadn’t exactly made it easy. She’d had her reasons, and given the chance, she wouldn’t do things any differently; but that blame didn’t rest entirely on his shoulders.
“He should have done better by both of you.” But as Helena had so aptly put it, not everyone recognized what a child could bring to their life, and in the end, perhaps it was better to have a father who left before you were born than to live with a father who had never wanted you at all.
“I guarantee it was his loss. I believe we know each other well enough now I can claim that.” And there’s a warm smile, genuine even if it was meant for Helena’s benefit. “You’re a beautiful woman, Helena, and by all accounts you have a wonderful daughter. He would have been lucky to have both of you.”
At the gentle squeeze, she gave a small smile. Helena still hated the man, resented how he had left and never looked back. But she also wouldn’t have it any other way. She loved Christina more than anything and ensured her daughter knew she was loved. Unlike what some people thought, a child didn’t need two parents. A child needed love and support, and Helena had done an excellent job of that with help from her own parents.
“Things are better this way. Clearly he was an ass that I did not need in my life.” Helena recognized that, though it had taken her a while to be able to see that. She had loved him deeply, enough to have wanted to marry him had he asked.
Helena’s smile widened a bit at Helen’s words. “Thank you. I do know I deserved better. It is entirely his loss.” Though she had been left with scars, of being more than deathly afraid of relationships. It was why she kept dancing around the topic with Harley. And if anyone else came along, she’d dance around the topic with them as well.
“Nevertheless, we both still have wonderful and amazing daughters, and I don’t think either of us would do anything to change that.” Without Christina in her life, Helena didn’t know what she would have done the past nine years.
Another point on which they would have been in complete agreement. While having two loving parents might have been ideal, the reality was many single parents did just as well, if not better, raising their children. Of course, it wasn’t easy. But it never was raising a child, whether single or not. Love and support were key, and as a mother herself, she could clearly see Helena more than provided that for her daughter.
“Reality is always so much different than the happy endings we visualize, but that isn’t always a bad thing. It’s about how we get through it.”
They were both damaged in a way, most people were. They also both had very good reasons to heal. “We do. And no, I certainly wouldn’t. My daughter is without a doubt the best thing that ever happened to me.”
Yes, that probably sounded a bit cliché, but that didn’t make it any less true.
There were plenty of children that had only one parent for one reason or another. And no, the job of being a parent was never easy, even when there were two in the picture. Children were a lifetime commitment whether they were planned or not. Things happened for a reason, though that reason may not be apparent until much later.
“There are no happy endings, not in the way fairytales describe.” Though Helena believed there were no happy endings in general, at least when it came to her own life. She no longer had hopes of meeting someone she’d want to dedicate her life to the way she’d foolishly wanted to with her ex-boyfriend.
“I feel quite the same about my daughter. She is the best thing that has ever happened to me, and I would not change a single thing about it.” Without Christina in her life, Helena most certainly wouldn’t be in California currently. She wouldn’t have repaired her relationship with her mother. She wouldn’t have met Helen or Harley. And she was more than happy that she’d met the both of them.
Helen didn’t necessarily believe everything happened for a reason. She wasn’t a big believer in fate. Life was what you made of it. And it was full of mistakes and missed opportunities. But that was okay. Perhaps she was wrong. Perhaps things did have a way of turning out in the end.
“You know, I hate the term happy anyway. It’s this unattainable goal we’re all meant to strive toward, only we’re always disappointed when we fail to reach it. Life is more complicated than that.” Though a part of her did hope Helena would find her happy ending, or something like it. They didn’t know each other well, but she knew she didn’t deserve to carry that much hurt.
But back to the matter of their children, “I think we’re both very fortunate to have that kind of love in our lives. They make us better, don’t they?”
Helena was a bit more fatalistic in her interpretation of life, if only because more often than not in her experience, there always seemed to be some rhyme or reason to what happened. Such as if she’d never become pregnant to begin with, she would not have made amends with her mother nor would she have left Paris. As it was, her life was a series of events that she could, for the most part, see the rhyme and reason in when she looked at things with a cool head.
“Precisely. I never have cared for what society states as being what every person should strive for. I am a single mother and I’m more than happy as I am.” Of course, Helena well knew she could be happier if she had someone who loved her and Christina in return, but she refused to entertain such an idea.
“Yes, they most certainly do. I know I am a better person for having Christina.” Not that she’d ever been a bad person, but motherhood had a way of changing a woman sometimes. And Helena had settled down after becoming one.
In Helen’s opinion, life was chaotic and messy, and you never truly knew if you were doing the right thing. And a decision certainly didn’t become the best option simply by virtue of the fact you’d chosen it. The dreams had only confirmed that. There was nothing quite like watching every mistake you’d ever made play out again to give a person perspective.
“As am I.” Happy may have been a stretch, hence her dislike of the word, but she was finally almost content in her life again. “I did everything I was supposed to do, married a man who could support me, started a family, had a successful career. It isn’t all they make it out to be.”
Not that she would ever claim one couldn’t find happiness in those things. But it hadn’t been right for her. John hadn’t been the right person. She had chosen the right profession, but she spent far too long on the wrong side of it. And as for family, Ashley was all the family she’d needed.
“I have to say, it’s nice having another mother to talk to, someone who understands.”
Speaking from the point of view of her dreams, Helena had yet to see rhyme or reason there. Christina’s murder had been senseless, and Helena’s downward spiral was equally as senseless.
“I shall simply take your word on the matter of marrying. I very much doubt I’m the marrying type anyway.” After the experience with her ex, Helena was more than finicky when it came to simple committed relationships. When it came to marriage, she was more than against it currently.
She smiled warmly at Helen. “I very much agree. One can explain the intricacies of raising a child all they want to someone who does not have children, but that person will never truly understand until they have a child of their own.” Helena paused momentarily, looking at Helen. “It is also comforting to know there is someone who understands the trauma of losing a child.”
Right now, that was a very big thing to Helena. She could talk all she wanted to her other friends, to Harley, about losing Christina in her dreams, but of them, only Harley had really understood.
Her comment on marriage earned a low chuckle, "You may yet surprise yourself."
Or she may not, but Helen had a tendency to believe life was about finding the unexpected and that love was a tricky feeling to navigate.
"It wasn't all terrible." John simply hadn't been the right person. She had her doubts the right person would come along at this stage in her life, but she also wouldn't entirely discount the possibility. She would consider marriage again, if the subject ever came up.
At the last, she met Helena's eyes, then gave a gentle nod. "I agree. It's something that can't be explained; there are no words to adequately describe that kind of loss."
And as much as she wanted to forget what it felt like, she never would. Having someone to talk to who understood that pain, it helped.
Helena supposed time would tell, but she most certainly had her doubts regarding being the marrying type. She’d first have to actually admit to having feelings for someone, then actually commit to them and remain in said relationship long enough. Her track record with long term relationships wasn’t a good one. And considering her longest relationship ended with being dumped because she was pregnant, she was more than a little afraid of relationships.
“At least there were positives,” she said. It pretty much went for most things in life that there were good and bad sides to things.
“Perhaps then we shall simply do our best to work through it together, knowing the other understands?” Because it was all about the unspoken communication when it came to grieving the loss of a child. Even though their experiences had only been in their dreams, it didn’t make their pain any less real. Besides, how did one put grief into words when grief was more than spoken language?
It was always difficult, opening yourself up to another person so completely. It meant allowing yourself to be hurt, no matter how wonderful of a partner you chose. No one was perfect. And the trouble of it was the people you loved were in the best position to cause the most hurt. She couldn’t argue that, even if she wanted.
“There were. He was a good man.” At least, in the beginning. Helen wanted to believe he still was, that it been stress, that it had been her, that she’d somehow brought out the worst in him. But when she really allowed herself to think about it, there were signs. She simply hadn’t wanted to see them.
She gave Helena’s hand a gentle squeeze, dipping her head in a faint nod. “I think we probably should. I’m not certain either of us should try to do it alone.”
Helena didn’t like opening herself up. She felt like everyone she’d come to know would at some point just leave her like her ex had. But then there had been people she’d bonded with, people that let herself open up to despite what her brain told her. Helena was, at heart, a people person. She’d tried isolating herself from everyone once, but that hadn’t worked out. She needed people around her to help her feel alive.
She more than understood the sentiment. Her own ex had been a good man, though looking back she should’ve known he wasn’t the type to settle down and have a family the way she’d initially thought they would. There had been signs, she simply hadn’t seen them until hindsight showed them to her. Hindsight was, after all, 20/20.
“Agreed. It is not, after all, something that someone truly can work through alone. Despite what we may wish to believe.” She gave Helen a little smile and returned the gentle squeeze of her hand.
Isolation, whether physically or emotionally, never quite worked out in the way one hoped it would. Helen might have said as much if she’d been privy to those thoughts.
Perhaps eventually they would learn to open up to each other, discuss some of those less than pleasant experiences, and find they had even more in common than they realized. It seemed they’d already perfected the art of having a conversation without actually saying much at all. That might have been a particularly British trait, but if they hadn’t had similar life experiences, she thought it probably wouldn’t work nearly as well as it did.
“No. It isn’t. But we will get through it. Together.”
Whether their ability to perfect the art of having a conversation without actually saying much was an innately British trait or simply due to their personalities, Helena was grateful for it. She spoke semantics and in what most people would think of as code. So the fact that Helen understood without her needing to explain herself, and vice versa, was most certainly refreshing.
“Yes, we will.” Helena confirmed with a smile. It was both odd and a relief at the same time to be able to have that. Even if it was only in their dreams, they both understood the pain of losing a child. And that in and of itself would be invaluable, especially with the way Helena’s dreams were progressing. She would need the balance, someone who understood that depth of grief.
And she would do whatever she could to return the favor to Helen.