Who: Helen Magnus and Nikola Tesla What: Helen’s concerned, Nikola tries to comfort her Where: Helen’s place When: After she called him, backdated to sometime between Oct 16 and Oct 26. Rating: Lowish Status: Complete!
The dreams had quickly become as much a part of Helen's reality as the life she led every day. In them, she wasn't herself, yet she was. Each filled her with a sense of longing, for a life she had never had, a life she didn't want. It was that feeling she dreaded most. It also didn't escape her that one of those dreams must have produced her recent illness.
She shuddered involuntarily, tucking her hands between her thighs, and making herself even smaller in the corner of the sofa she currently occupied. Dressed for comfort, it was clear she had been crying. And that she hadn't slept much the previous evening. She had been afraid of what she might find if she closed her eyes again. After her typical morning routine, she had assured Varric she was fine, if she wasn't entirely certain he had believed her, then she had waited until he had gone before picking up her phone. Clumsily, she had dialed a still foreign number, requesting its owner join her for tea, hating the tremor she could hear in her voice, refusing to explain. Then, she waited.
Nikola was a little terrified at the sound of Helen’s voice. He wasn’t sure if something else had gone wrong, or if he’d done something terrible that he didn’t realize was awful. He collected himself and headed out the door five minutes after her call. It was a little dangerous how fast he drove to get to her home, then he practically ran up to her door and knocked.
She wouldn’t have thought she could still have such an effect on him, and if she had known she might have lectured him. But her mind was occupied by other thoughts. It had been a relief to hear his voice, but she wanted to see him, know he was alive, that he was still the man she knew.
Opening the door, she hesitated, seemingly undecided. Then, without waiting for permission, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, pressing her nose against his neck and closing her eyes as she hugged him.
At the sudden hug, he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around her and hold her close against him. It was unexpected, but not unwelcome. “Are you going to tell me what’s wrong now?” He asked, though he didn’t want to pull back just yet.
She didn’t try to pull away, perfectly content to be in his arms, for the moment. “You tried to kill me.”
Nikola frowned, his arms tightening around her. “Never. I would never.”
“You weren’t yourself,” she murmured reassuringly, drawing comfort from his arms around her. She opted not to mention that John had been the one to come to her rescue.
Finally, she pulled back, taking his hand and drawing him inside, toward the sofa. “I needed to make certain you hadn’t changed.”
"I haven't changed," he said, letting her drag him inside. "Why would I change?"
Her fingers tightened briefly around his. “Because you trusted me. We all changed. Some of us more than others.”
"I still trust you. That will never change." He let her guide him to the sofa, then took a seat.
She leaned against him, still reluctant to release his hand. “Perhaps you shouldn’t.”
Nikola wanted so very badly to wrap his arm around her and never let go. But was that his place? She had someone else, didn’t she? His arm wrapped around her as he lost the inward struggle, and he held her close as long as she’d let him. “Why do you say that?” She may belong to another, but he was still a friend, an important one. And she wouldn’t allow this relationship to separate them the way her engagement to John had.
“The five of us were close.” At least, she had always believed so. “I tore us apart. In this world and in that one.”
He couldn’t deny that she’d broken up their group of friends. Or, perhaps, John had by taking her away from them. Maybe John realized how much she meant to Nikola, to the group, and that’s why he took her away. Maybe he did it on purpose. Maybe not. In any case, it was done.
“In which one?” Nikola didn’t know what she was talking about, really. He knew about this world... but...
She shook her head, idly toying with his fingers. It hadn’t occurred to her that Nikola might not know what she was referring to when she spoke of her dreams. About the woman she had been. Or was it the woman she was meant to be? In either case, she wasn’t certain how to explain, and so his hand became her distraction.
“In my dreams. The ones where you’re different.”
Nikola paused, his brow furrowed. He shook his head just a little bit. “I still don’t understand. I tried to kill you in your dreams? It was just a dream, Helen.”
“They’re more than that.” It came out sharper than she intended, and she shifted uneasily, tightening her hand around his again. “One of them nearly killed me, Nikola.”
Nikola was frowning. He still didn’t understand how a dream nearly killed her. “What does that mean, Helen? How could a dream nearly kill you? This isn’t a horror movie.”
“Before I called you, I’d been having strange dreams. A different life. I became ill.” She took a slightly shaky breath, shifting so she could look at him, her words growing quieter. “In both worlds.”
“What do you mean, strange dreams?” Nikola was under the impression that most dreams were strange. At least, his often were. He brought his hand to hers to take hold of it and lace their fingers together. “What sort of illness?”
“Radiation poisoning. They didn’t know how to treat it. They’d given up.” She had given up, as well, though she didn’t say it. Even now, she didn’t like to talk about it, and she was grateful for the contact.
“They aren’t just dreams. They’re real.” She frowned. No. That wasn’t right. But it was. “They feel like memories.”
"Oh, Helen," Nikola whispered, pressing his nose into her hair. "Are you all right now?" The radiation poisoning was of more concern to him than the dreams.
She nodded, squeezing his hand in reassurance. “I made a full recovery. The cure came from my dreams, as well.”
Nikola nodded. He wasn’t sure what that all meant, but he was glad that she was better. He held her a little tighter, finding it hard to believe that he’d only just gotten her back, that he’d nearly lost her in the interim.
"I'm all right. You've no need to worry," she murmured, still letting him hold her, "I'm not going anywhere."
Nikola nodded. He was still holding her tightly, though, his mind spinning. She was dreaming of another world--a parallel universe, perhaps?-- that she claimed was real, even though this world was real. So real, in fact, that it not only caused an illness, radiation poisoning, but it also gave her the cure.
“We should have some tea.” He said softly, though he wasn’t about to let her go.
She nodded, but she didn't move, settling more comfortably against him. "Soon."
Careful to keep her attention on their hands, she added quietly, "I thought you were dead."
Nikola cleared his throat. “I was dead? In your dreams?”
She looked at him, then, not bothering to hide her uncertainty. "I don't know."
Nikola was frowning now. He pulled back enough so he could get a good look into her face. Her eyes, specifically. “...what do you mean? You didn’t know? You don’t know now?”
It wouldn't be hard to see that she was close to tears. She hated the dreams, hated that there were still so many questions she couldn't answer. Finally, she shook her head.
"Everything is out of order." She tightened her hold on his hand. "I shot you."
“I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere. We can try and make sense of it together.”
She nodded, resting her head on his shoulder. “Thank you for coming.”
“Whenever you ask it of me, I will always be here.” Nikola responded.
"Such devotion," she murmured, closing her eyes, "And I'd thought you were prepared to forget about me."
“Even if I wanted to forget about you, Helen, I never could.” Nikola whispered softly. The ‘I love you’ was hanging in the air but left unsaid. She shifted, looking up at him, but she took her time answering. "You were rather angry when I left."
“Anger fades,” he responded gently.
"Have you ever forgiven me?"
Nikola took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I don’t know. But that doesn’t mean I don’t care for you.”
His answer didn’t entirely surprise her, but it still hurt to hear him say it. “I thought I was making the right choice.”
“It hurt.” He said, gently. “I don’t know if that wound ever healed.”
She wanted so badly to tell him she wished she had stayed, but that felt dishonest. It would mean she regretted her relationship with Varric, and that couldn't be further from the truth. But there was little she regretted more than having hurt Nikola. She had loved him. In many ways, she still did. It was a different love than he felt for her, or so she assumed, but that made it no less painful to lose the connection they'd shared. She didn't think she could lose him again.
She tucked her head into the crook of his neck, seeking his hand again. "I'm sorry."
He let her take his hand. It was torture for himself, he knew he shouldn’t let her get this close. It was as if he was letting her reopen old wounds. He wouldn’t allow himself to let his hopes go up, but yet here he was, wrapped around her little finger all over again. He’d never stop loving her, loving her more than she would ever love him, and it killed him a little bit every moment he was with her.
“It’s all right. I’ve learned to live with it.”
Her heart broke all over again at that response. How many times had she hurt him? How could she walked away and left him to pick up the pieces?
She tilted her head up to look at him, the hand not still clutching his idly moving across his stomach, her fingertips tracing absent patterns. Almost before she registered her own movement, she had closed the remaining distance between them. It hadn’t been her intention to kiss him. She had only wanted to lessen the sting, ease the pain she could still see lingering in his eyes. She hadn’t meant to make it worse.
At the very least, their relationship suddenly felt far more complicated.
She pulled back quickly, expression caught somewhere between shock and guilt. What had she done?
“Nikola, I,” she faltered, the words catching in her throat until she had almost forgotten to breathe. “I’m sorry,” she finally whispered.
Nikola was more than willing to return her kiss. With enthusiasm. He’d always wondered what that would be like, and it had exceeded his expectations. His arms wrapped around her in the brief moment that their lips met, and he held her close. It was as if he could imagine what it would be like to own one another. To belong together.
Then she was pulling away and whispering her apologies. He wanted to draw her in, to kiss her again even more hungrily. But he refrained. “You don’t need to be sorry, Helen.” He whispered, lifting his hand to tuck hair behind her ear.
She nearly kissed him again, if only so she wouldn’t have to fill the silence, wouldn’t have to hurt him again. And perhaps because kissing him hadn’t felt wrong. Not in the way she would have expected. Her hand hovered in the space between them, uncertain where it should rest, finally landing on his leg as she shook her head.
“I shouldn’t have,” she hesitated, tried again, pulling her hands into her lap and twisting them together anxiously, “Nikola, I – I’m with someone.”
Nikola figured that he probably should take his arms from around her when she mentioned she was with someone. His face fell into a bit of a frown.
“What?”
A part of her wished he would pull her close again, but she kept a respectable amount of space between them, even as she reached for his hand. She felt like he was slipping away again, and it frightened her.
“I’m with someone,” she repeated softly, then she looked down at her lap, knowing she wouldn’t be able to meet his eyes. “Nikola, I’m getting married.”
Nikola blinked at her, then pulled even further away and stood up off of the sofa. He turned to walk away from her by a few paces, then stopped and stared out the window with his hands in his pockets. His heart was thundering.
“Nikola, please.” She hated how small she sounded. “Please don’t walk away.”
Nikola shook his head, and finally turned around. He was torn between sadness, anger and frustration. “I don’t understand. You’re engaged to be married to someone else, and yet you’re kissing me.”
How she wished she had an explanation for that. “I don’t regret it.”
He finally turned around to look at her. “How can you say that?”
She shook her head helplessly. “I don’t know.”
Nikola walked back over to the sofa, slowly, and reached a hand out to her.
She took the offered hand without hesitation, grasping it tightly. "Sit with me? Please?"
He shook his head. “Come here.” He tugged on her hand to pull her to her feet.
She stood at his prompting, wanting desperately to move into his arms, but she wasn’t entirely certain that was allowed. Instead, she hovered uncertainly, her hand still firmly in his.
He held his arms out to her, to wrap her up in them. “Kiss me one last time.” He asked, though it almost sounded like he was begging. Leaning into him, she nodded, burying her face against his neck. It was another few moments before she pulled back just enough to kiss him, bringing her hand up to cup his cheek.
Nikola wrapped his arms around her, tenderly yet with strength, and held her against him. When she kissed him, he returned it with the enthusiasm of a drowning man being thrown a life preserver.
This time, she allowed the kiss to linger, and when she finally pulled away, she settled back against his chest, still unwilling to relinquish the contact.
Nikola held her close, one arm around her, the other running over her hair. He wasn’t ready to say goodbye, but he knew that this was a closing of a door. The same door that he’d closed so long ago. He took a deep breath, and released it. “Good luck with your new husband.” He said, somewhat bitterly, and finally pulled back, releasing her from his arms.
She shivered slightly as he pulled away, wishing he wouldn’t have, so afraid she was losing him again.
“You weren’t here,” she said softly.
“Would that have made a difference?” He asked.
“Perhaps.” She didn’t have an answer to that, and she had no wish to lie to him. “I do love you, Nikola.”
He paused for a long moment, studying her. There was a part of him that had always known she loved him. Just as he knew it wasn’t in the right way.
“I know.” He said, then turned to head to the door. “And I’ll always love you.”
She didn’t find her voice again until he’d nearly reached the door. “Nikola?” She hesitated, looking down at her shoes, half afraid of his answer. “Tell me this isn’t goodbye?”
He paused with his hand on the handle. “This isn’t goodbye.” He said, and turned back to glance at her. He didn’t have anything else to say, so he opened the door to let himself out.