Who: Helena with player-okayed inferred action/participation from Myka, Claudia, Svetlana and Anatoly, and an NPC! flashback memory conversation with Charles Wells What: It's the anniversary of Christina Wells' murder. So clearly Helena is breaking ever so epically and completely. When: Starting around 9 am Paris time and this narrative ends somewhere between noon and 1 pm Paris time (in other words, beginning at the time this is posted) Where: Paris, France Warnings: Epic angst, epic emotions, complete emotional breakdown, references to death, brief language. Oh, did I mention the angst? And the breakdown? Status: Narrative, complete. Be warned, this is LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOONG.
TL;DR Version: Helena is completely emotionally decimated. This is her rock bottom. But hey, at least she's not fighting the urge to horrifically murder people anymore? >.> And if your character is empathic/has the Force/or can otherwise detect emotions, Helena is spiking at an extreme end of decimated sorrow and agony. And she will continue to do so for a while.
As if July wasn’t difficult enough for Helena to handle as it was, there were all of the Moriarty things to deal with. Irene’s murder, which she honestly wasn’t even beginning to comprehend. She knew Lexi was taking it really hard, and Helena honestly was trying to be there for her, but it was difficult to support someone else when you yourself were breaking from within. Despite the fact she had suffered a gunshot wound, Helena was at least out from under Moriarty’s wrath. She had survived. Myka had survived. Both were traumatized, Myka for having a bomb strapped to her, and Helena for having snapped and been shot. But Myka had saved her life. She was grateful for that, and was grateful the wound had been in her shoulder, not her head. Helena had not expected Lexi to offer to heal her. In fact, she hadn’t exactly known she could do such a thing. Yet the delivery of the blood had been welcome. If only to get her off of the damned pain medication. Drinking blood was not exactly her idea of a delicacy, but she’d made sure to drink every last drop. Though once she’d started, she couldn’t stop herself because of the rush it had given her. Really it had been a good thing Lexi had given it to her in a bottle, and not directly from her body. The blood had done the trick, though. Her shoulder was as good as new, which she liked because it also allowed her to hold Emily without ensuring her shoulder wasn’t jarred.
Despite the chaos Moriarty was stirring up in Lawrence, Helena, Myka, Claudia, Svetlana, Anatoly, Fayina, Jelena and Emily had gone to Paris. It had been planned long before, as a way for Helena to try and lay a ghost to rest, to try and heal as much as she could. Anatoly, Fayina and Jelena being there was more to get them out of the crazy semtex party Moriarty was having. But it did work out. Myka and Claudia could talk to Anatoly while Helena was busy dealing with mother feelings that only Svetlana could completely comprehend.
Just the fact that she didn’t have to spend this day alone, that she had people willing to help her deal with things, to catch her when she fell, was both completely foreign and a relief to her. Helena was not half as strong as she pretended to be, and without the help, she knew she would snap again because the grief was too potent for her to feel. And with everything coming down on her at once, she really needed the support. At least now her shoulder had been healed so she was lucid and not sounding like a rambling madwoman on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Nevermind the fact she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. But she could face this day without the haze of medication blurring the lines between her thoughts.
The previous night had been largely sleepless for her. Oh she’d tried. She’d at least lain down, but her mind refused to give her rest because it was far too clogged with racing thoughts. After a couple hours of lying there, she eventually had just gotten up, went over to the table, turned on the lamp, grabbed her diary, and just started to write. Every word she put down was related to Christina and her death and the effects Helena felt from it. She’d gotten so lost within writing what was on her mind and in her heart that she didn’t realize how much time had passed. Eventually, Myka being up and moving around caught her attention. Glancing at the clock, she realized it was nearly time for them to grab breakfast. Finishing up the thought she’d been in the middle of putting to paper, Helena set the pen aside, closed her diary and returned it to her bag. She pulled out a clean set of clothes, then once the bathroom was free, she went and changed and did her morning routine. Though before she put her shirt on, she paused to take her locket in her hand, grasping it tightly for some moments. And for the first time, she dared not open the locket, knowing it would open the floodgates too soon. She had to keep face as long as she possibly could. Helena had pride and dignity to maintain. And she was British.
When she was ready, she exited the bathroom and went to grab the map. Once Claudia and Myka were ready, they headed off to have breakfast with the Sergievskys before they all would head off. The Victorian woman was quiet, moreso than what was normal for her, but no one questioned her on it. She did speak when spoken to, even warmly greeted Fayina and Jelena, but she did not initiate conversation. It was difficult for her to get through breakfast if only because her mind kept wandering to Christina and the events of the day that awaited her.
Could she face this? Could she embrace the grief without letting it control her to the extent that she tried to end the world? Helena did not have the answer to that. What she did know was that she was feeling weak and that if she returned to the hotel still holding some sliver of sanity, she would consider it a complete miracle. At least she had people here with her. Myka, who knew her better than anyone else. Claudia, whom she viewed as a daughter. Svetlana, who understood what it was to be a mother, and also the pain of losing a child. Anatoly, whom she’d come to realize was the male version of herself minus the grief and fury issues. Emily, her new daughter, though technically a different version of herself. Fayina and Jelena, who reminded her of her love for children. Having that network of support meant more to her than she could ever express. Especially on this day.
Once breakfast was finished, Helena finally spoke at length, or what passed for being at length for her that morning. She let everyone know the basic plan. For the sake of Fayina and Jelena, she remained vague on the why they were going to these places, and Anatoly had planned to take his daughters and Emily elsewhere when visiting the mausoleum Christina had been interred at came. The children did not need to be in such an atmosphere. According to the map, there was a park across the street from the address where Helena’s cousin had lived, so Anatoly could distract the children there while Helena spent her time there.
Once everyone was on the same page and ready, they got up and started off. The first destination was the address where Helena’s cousin had lived. It would probably be for the best if she confronted that particular ghost first. They walked to the location as their hotel wasn’t overly far from there. They would need to take the metro to the mausoleum, but this part they could walk there.
Helena walked in front, only needing to consult the map when she came to unfamiliar landmarks. Otherwise Paris had not changed too much over the past century. It was familiar yet strange to her, but Paris would never charm her with its beauty. It was the city that destroyed her, and that would forever tarnish everything else within it. But she wasn’t running away from the pain and grief this time. She was going to try and embrace it, but that was far easier said than done.
With each step she took, Helena felt her mind slipping backwards in time, back to the worst day of her life. Back to the point in time where the initial break had been suffered. It was beyond difficult for her to continue walking towards that house, but she kept her chin up the entire walk. She knew Myka and Svetlana were keeping a close eye on her. And no doubt both women saw that beneath the surface, she was all ready cracking. Memories that never were far from the front of her mind were beginning to consume her. But for the moment, it was only memories consuming her. Currently it was the last time she’d seen Christina. She remembered every word of that conversation as she helped get Christina’s things packed for Paris. A promise that upon her return, Helena would take her to the theatre. It was a promise that had gone unfulfilled, much as the rest of the promises she’d made that day had.
Yet for as much as she was beginning to crack under the surface, Helena kept a calm appearance outwardly. She was clinging so desperately to how she’d been raised, to keep herself seemingly put together when she was anything but. Helena drew in a slow, deep and steadying breath to try and center herself as best she could. But then she felt her heart stop as she turned a corner. She stopped so suddenly that Svetlana nearly ran into the back of her, but managed to stop herself before that happened. Everyone else stopped, and it wasn’t hard to discern just why Helena had stopped walking. The look in her eyes and where she was looking gave it away.
A moment later, she shook herself and moved on, heading towards a bench. She glanced back to Anatoly, giving him a little nod before she sat down on the bench, her gaze affixing to the house across the street. It was strange how much things could change over time, but it was stranger yet when they remained the same. The house looked exactly as it had back in Helena’s time. The outside had obviously been renovated at some point, but otherwise nothing had changed, and it sent a shiver up Helena’s spine. They sat there in silence for a few minutes, Myka and Svetlana on either side of Helena, Claudia on the other side of Myka. But finally, Helena found herself speaking when she had not expected to.
“The fourteenth of July 1891 is a day I lived twice. That was my cousin’s house, where Christina was spending the summer. The first time I lived that day, it started much as any other. I went to the Warehouse for work, did my normal duties and had settled into one of Caturanga’s lessons over tea. That’s when the news was brought to me. Seven years later, I had completed my time machine and used it to travel back to that day to save Christina. I was inside that house the day my daughter died. I fought as hard as I could, tried as hard as I could to get to her in time, to save her. But I was too late. I only got as far as her bedroom door…” Her voice trailed off as her mind slipped back to the past.
”Christina, open your eyes. Mummy’s here now. It’s okay. Mummy’s here.” Helena had pleaded as she’d clung to Christina. That had been the second time she’d lost her daughter, and this time, the pain tore her soul apart. Her heart grew completely dark and froze over. All sense she’d had left left her as she mourned her daughter a second time. It was then that she’d given in to the fury in the remnants of her soul. It was easier to embrace the fury than the pain.
And now she was trying to embrace the pain, trying to find some measure of peace. Myka would now finally know exactly why Helena had lost her mind. It hadn’t just been the experience of losing Christina once, but twice. Though the second time not only twisted the knife in her heart, but it destroyed all hope she had of ever saving her daughter. She had lost herself so completely on that day in 1891, and even now she was still trying to stop the free fall she was in. The effects of what Moriarty had done didn’t help the situation either.
All progress she had made had been undone. At least she hadn’t hurt or killed anyone, but still, the mindset was there. But the longer she sat there, the longer she watched the events of that day play through her mind’s eye, those homicidal tendencies and thoughts were curbed. For the first time on this date since the original course of events had played out, the pain overtook the anger. The cracks in her outer shell grew wider to the point where the other three women could tell the dam was about to burst. Lifting a hand up, she wrapped her fingers tightly around her locket, her dark gaze focused completely on that house. But she wasn’t seeing the outside of the house. She was seeing the inside of it over one hundred years ago, clinging to Christina’s body.
“I’ve got you, love. And I’ll never let you go,” she said aloud. And almost as soon as the words had left her mouth, the dam broke. The outer shell she kept so tight around herself had just been shattered so completely. There was no keeping her complete and utter agony locked inside any longer. There was no more holding her head high and pretending she was fine. Her emotions were all now laid bare in the morning light. Not even her pride was strong enough to allow her to try and keep her sobbing quiet. She didn’t even notice when comforting hands were on her back, her friends moving closer to her, determined to try and comfort her in any way they could. Out of the three that were there, Svetlana was the only one who fully comprehended the pain Helena was expressing.
Helena didn’t even truly register what was going on around her. She was too caught up within the tide of pain that she’d kept inside for one hundred and twenty years. The only other time in her life that she’d cried this openly, this brokenly, was when she’d held Christina’s body in her arms. She no longer had anything to hold it inside with. Helena had been successfully beaten down and broken open so completely. While normally her being in a raw emotional state was a very bad thing, right now it was a very good thing. She was expressing emotions, letting those closest to her know just how much pain she was in, how much pain she had kept to herself all these long years because she didn’t know how to handle the grief. It was too potent, too overwhelming, and she feared it would control her the same way her fury and anger did.
But then there were arms around her, hugging her and subconsciously that gave her some grounding. She didn’t exactly know who was hugging her, but she didn’t care. She needed the comfort, and she leaned into the embrace. It did not matter who was giving her the hug because she trusted and loved all three of the women there with her, and she knew they cared about her in return. They’d made this trip with her, supported her facing this and embracing the pain so she could move on with her life, put herself back together.
While such an endeavor had been a monumental task even before the whole thing with Moriarty had started, it was now far beyond a Herculean task to accomplish. Right there in that moment, Helena felt herself finally hit the bottom. She felt herself stop falling. While hitting bottom meant one could only go up from there, Helena had been falling for one hundred and twenty years. Would it take one hundred and twenty more to pull herself back out? To put herself back together? She didn’t know. All she knew was that she was in pain, and it was so difficult to make any sense out of it. It was so difficult to embrace it because she didn’t know how to.
Helena didn’t know how much time had passed. All she knew was that eventually her completely desolate and unabridged sobbing began to give way. But through it all, those arms were around her, giving her that grounding she didn’t even know she needed. Slowly, her crying finally died down to far less audible levels. As she was calming down, she heard murmuring. Myka saying something to Claudia. She saw them both head off somewhere through her tear-blurred vision. But slowly, the crying died down enough to where she could pull it back in. She needed to gather herself as best as she could. There was still another stop they had to make. Helena really didn’t know if it would be easier or more difficult. Christina’s body wouldn’t actually be there and she wouldn’t have to look at the headstone or see the coffin again. But she wondered if it would look the same as it did in her own world.
After several minutes, the arms around her, which belonged to Svetlana, released her, but one hand remained on her back. Helena took a few slow, deep breaths to try and calm herself. One hand was still clasped around her locket, not having let go of it for one second. It was then that Myka and Claudia returned, Myka handing her a cup. Giving a little word of thanks, Helena took it and took a sip. Tea. Oh how she could use this right now. Sometimes it did still surprise her just how well Myka knew her. Using her free hand, she started to brush some tears from her cheeks when Claudia offered her a package of kleenex, a little awkwardly informing her she had more if needed. Setting her tea down for the moment, Helena opened the package and took a kleenex out, drying her cheeks and eyes.
She was still crying, but it wasn’t so broken or passionate as it had been some minutes before. Oh there were still plenty of unshed tears within her, but she had at least gotten a little of it out now. Sniffing and taking another deep breath, Helena turned her gaze back to her cousin’s home. Normally, Helena would like Paris, but because of the fact Christina had died here, and Helena had lost herself here, the city left a very bitter taste in her mouth. She didn’t exactly like being in the city, but she had to be. Because she needed to face this, not run from it the way she had. Helena had finally gotten too tired of running, and running had only pushed her to the point of thinking world annihilation was the only answer.
More than anything, Helena wished for the pain within her to end. It hurt to even breathe right now, but she needed to bear it. It was part of embracing this pain, of helping herself to move on. But god, Helena truly wished to stop hurting, to stop feeling like she couldn’t pull herself out of the darkness she’d been living in for so long. Though part of it was to stop thinking of herself as the villain, which she still sort of did. Keeping what Myka told her in the chess lock close did help. And remembering that the Warehouse itself had given her its approval back shortly before her death. The path to redemption was there, all she needed to do was to have the courage with which to walk it.
This is why she was in Paris. She was trying to give herself a start down that road. After all, she was alive and had the opportunity to walk it. Myka may have told her she’d all ready redeemed herself, but Helena didn’t feel like she had. She had so much to make up for, and most of the people she’d wronged weren’t even here or alive. Some how, some way, Helena would some day stand redeemed in her own eyes, not just the eyes of others. And in order to do that, she needed to make her peace with Christina as best as she could. This wasn’t her world, but the places still carried the memories of the pain, the loss, and that was enough for her to need to be here.
They sat in silence after that. Today, time was meaningless to Helena so she didn’t even try to learn what the time was. All she knew was that she was going to stay there on that bench until she felt she could make the trip to the mausoleum without sobbing again. Ideally, she’d rather wait until she felt strong enough to face the mausoleum, but in that regard, they would be sitting there for years, and they didn’t have that kind of time. So she drank her tea, managing to finish it off before it had turned cold.
While her memories of Christina were always near the surface, right now the worst ones were replaying through her mind’s eye. It was something she’d come to expect on this day, but this was the first time where she had people who could ensure she didn’t force herself to close off from the pain. This time, Helena didn’t even think she had the strength to close herself off. She was completely open now. It would be obvious to even the unobservant person that knew her that she wasn’t hiding herself. All of her pain and agony were lain bare for all to see if they cared to look. Along with it were the remaining pieces of her shattered heart and shattered soul.
Finally, Helena felt that she was ready to move on. Part of her just wanted to be away from the house now. She couldn’t stand to look at it any longer. If they spent any longer there, she would break again, and she didn’t think she would stop crying if that happened. Indicating that she was ready to take the next step, the party got up and waited for Anatoly to round up the girls. After speaking with Svetlana for a couple minutes, Anatoly took his daughters and Emily to go get some lunch and ice cream. And in the event Helena would take a while at the mausoleum, Anatoly had other plans on where to take the girls for distraction purposes until the women rejoined him.
Glancing up at the sky, Helena took a deep breath, then headed off. They needed to take the metro to get to where the mausoleum was. So after getting in and catching the train, Helena’s gaze affixed itself to the floor of the train. She was desperately trying to find some measure of strength inside her to cling to for the rest of this. But she was having trouble finding anything to hold on to. Moriarty had done a number on her. All the fearing for her life, all the hiding, all the worry of protecting Emily, it had taken its toll and it wasn’t until this precise moment that she realized just how heavy a price she’d paid for it. If it wasn’t for Myka, Claudia and Svetlana being there with her, Helena wouldn’t have been able to do this. She might have still tried, but she would have ended up losing it. After all, she was at the bottom of the exceedingly deep grave she’d dug for herself and it was so dark she couldn’t see. She only knew it was the bottom because she was standing on it.
Feeling a hand on her shoulder, Helena looked up to see Claudia giving her a little smile. Helena lifted a hand gently squeezed Claudia’s in return. She couldn’t manage even the smallest smile right now, but she made it known that she appreciated the gesture. She glanced at Myka, sharing a silent look with her. She was so very thankful to have Myka there with her, and that they both were even alive to be there. Helena glanced at Svetlana, so very thankful that she was there. Only another mother could truly comprehend the connection Helena held to Christina, but the fact that Svetlana had also lost her own daughters made it that much more meaningful to Helena. Having someone who understood the pain without having to describe it truly meant the world to her. Even for an author of Helena’s caliber, she had not the words to describe the hole in her soul, the pain she felt. All she could do was find some way to express it, and she knew Svetlana could read that.
Getting off at the correct stop, Helena led the way back up to the streets of Paris. The mausoleum was only a few blocks away. She knew Myka would probably recognize it as she’d followed Helena there in 2010. Well, provided it was like the address they had just come from and was mostly similar. The mausoleum was a good few blocks away, so they navigated the streets. It was easy as Helena had all ready marked out the route they needed to follow on the map she’d gotten the previous day. With that, they reached the mausoleum.
Pausing outside of it, Helena glanced up at it. It looked as it had in her own world. Sending a silent glance at Myka, she wondered if the agent was flashing back to 2010 or not. Though knowing Myka, she probably was. How could she not? Upon feeling a fresh pang of guilt, Helena turned her attention back ahead and opened the door, stepping inside the building. Not needing a map to guide her in there, Helena turned this way and that until she arrived at the corridor which would have held Christina’s final resting place.
Coming to a halt, Helena felt the tears renew themselves in her eyes and she tried to keep them at bay, but she couldn’t. She didn’t even bother to square her shoulders as she walked down the corridor. Her body language was no where near as held together as it normally was. Right now it was that of a woman who was broken and carrying the weight of the entire universe on her shoulders.
Coming to a stop, her eyes locked onto one headstone in particular. While there was obviously a different name with different dates of birth and death, Helena saw Christina’s. Fresh tears falling down her cheeks, Helena reached out and pressed her hand against the cold marble stone. Closing her eyes, Helena was taken back to the day of Christina’s funeral. She had not known a human being could feel as utterly devastated as she had that day. Charles had been there for her, refused to leave her alone, but she’d shut even him out. Helena had slammed the door on her heart that day and locked it with a thousand deadbolts. She’d chosen not to let anyone in because that would mean she would have to feel, and she didn’t want to. Though she was reminded of a conversation she’d had with Charles prior to the funeral.
”Why her? Why an innocent child? She deserved better than this!” Helena cried out, frantically pacing through the parlor.
“There is no sense to be found in this. But I assure you you’ll get through this.” Charles said, attempting to be comforting.
“You couldn’t possibly understand what I’m going through, Charles. So don’t sit there and tell me I’ll get through this!” Helena snapped, casting a pointed glare at her brother, even through the tears she was shedding.
“She was my niece, Helena, and I loved her too.”
“She was my daughter, Charles. You couldn’t possibly understand such a connection. You don’t even understand what it is to love.”
At that, Charles sighed, stood up and grabbed Helena by the shoulders. “Helena, would you stop lashing out at me? For once just let yourself feel. You did this exact same thing when father died.”
“Maybe I don’t want to feel, Charles! Did that ever occur to you?” Helena shot back.
“If you don’t let yourself feel this, it will destroy you.”
“My heart is all ready destroyed. How can I be destroyed anymore than I all ready am?”
Really, it was a prophetic conversation, and Helena should have listened to her brother. He may have been a twit most of the time, but he had been a good man. One Helena shouldn’t have pushed away. But it was all done now, and all she could do was pick herself up now.
Opening her eyes, she sniffed and gently rubbed her fingers against the marble beneath them. Being this open emotionally, Helena truly had the appearance of being one hundred and forty-five years old. She was so tired, so exhausted, that she wondered how one could even try to move on from such things. All she knew was that she had to move on. So without further delay, Helena addressed Christina. And she felt comfortable doing so out loud. Myka, Claudia and Svetlana were the only other people there, and she wanted them to hear it, to better understand, and to also know she was going to try and move on.
“My darling Christina, I miss you more than I could ever say. Not an hour passes where I don’t think about you, and I keep you with me wherever I go. You are the light of my life, my pride and joy, and I’m afraid I’ve been so lost since you were taken from me. I want you to know that I am trying to come to terms with what happened, to find peace and live my life and be happy like I know you would want me to be. My hope and faith in things is still shaky at best, but I am trying. I want to make you proud of me. I love you my darling, and I wish you were here with me, but I am happy that you are at peace. Be strong for mummy, love. For now, I still have things to do, and your sister needs me, but one day, I will be with you again, love.”
Her voice broke with the last word and unable to hold herself together, Helena started crying all over again. Leaning forward, she pressed her forehead against the cold marble, all semblance of strength leaving her. Her knees gave way and she slid down to the floor, Svetlana managing to catch her before she went all the way down. This time, Helena returned the embrace, truly needing it now. She hadn’t thought she could break any further than she had earlier, but she was proven wrong now. It had taken every last bit of whatever she’d had left to speak those words to Christina, to acknowledge those things out loud. She’d held them silently within for so long, that to finally give them voice broke away the rest of her resolve.
While she’d still somewhat been in her homicidal state of mind coming into today, right now, not a single trace of that remained. She was now completely within her own right mind, just one that was immersed within the complete decimation of her heart and soul. This pain was far more potent than it had ever been before simply because she was letting herself feel it. She was embracing it, and that only made it hurt even more.
Perhaps it was better that this wasn’t her world, that Christina wasn’t actually here. But even if this had been her world, Helena would’ve reacted the same way. And she would still be as utterly decimated as she currently was. For the first time in her entire life, Helena was a complete open book. She needed guidance on where to go next because she had no idea. All she knew was that she couldn’t possibly fall any further than she currently had. This was her rock bottom. This was her lowest point. There was only one way she could go now.
While all her progress had been undone by Moriarty and this date, as long as she let her friends help her, she could rise again. She could find herself. Perhaps she could even once again become that woman that was once so full of life and faith that nothing was impossible. She wanted to believe again, to have that optimism that she’d lost so long ago. She wanted to be that phoenix rising from the ashes to burn brighter than ever before. And this is where she began to achieve that.
Once again, she didn’t know how long she held onto Svetlana, crying into her shoulder, but eventually she did calm down enough and pulled back from the embrace. She sat down on the floor, using kleenex to dry her tears, then offered some to Svetlana to dry the wet spot she’d made on her shoulder. This was going to be an incredibly long road to walk, but it was one she would willingly walk. She needed to believe again. She owed it to Christina just as much as she owed it to herself. And to think it had taken Myka forcing her to point that gun at her head to start realizing this.
This was the beginning of a new beginning for Helena, and she would do her best to see this through. Of course, she was still wondering how to even pick herself up from this, if it was even worth it. But one look to the three women there with her and the thought of Emily was all she needed to know that it would be worth it. She just seriously hoped nothing tried to set her back again because she couldn’t take anything else in such a manner. This was going to be incredibly difficult for her, but perhaps it could be done. One day at a time is how she needed to approach this. Just taking it one step at a time, giving herself credit where she was due it. And also acknowledging her faults along the way and do her best to make amends where she could.
After sitting there for a while, Helena had pulled herself together enough to where she felt she could be in public without losing it. These certainly weren’t going to be the last tears she’d shed today, and they most assuredly weren’t going to be the last tears she’d shed over Christina. But for now, she could keep herself together long enough to get some food, but after that she would undoubtedly need to retire to the hotel. She needed rest and she needed to collect herself again, which she couldn’t do while in public.
While the very thought of the road that lay ahead of her was completely daunting, Helena exited that mausoleum with a small resolve to see herself climb out of this grave she’d dug herself into. With her friends by her side, that resolve would grow, and one day, H. G. Wells would rise again, stronger than before.