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SPOILERS: Season Two.
What Ever Happened to Helena G Wells?
By Athena
Chapter 7
Helena looked curiously at Helen as she set the table for three. "Who's our mystery guest?"
"Why, Myka of course," Helen said and slid the napkin holder over the starched linen.
"Myka?" Helena blurted out. She jumped to her feet and crossed the room. She grabbed Helen's shoulders. "Are you mad? She doesn't want to see me."
"Actually she does. Question is, do you?"
Helena let go of Helen's shoulders and turned around, silently pondering how to answer the question. She startled when Helen gently caressed her hair. "It's okay to want her Helena, to need her. You're so strong, but even you need someone."
To Helena's surprise dinner had been both civilized and lovely. Though she had no clue what she had actually been eating. Her whole focus had been on the woman sitting across from her, on Helen's left. She basked in the sound of Myka's laughter; the only nagging sorrow being that she was not the one causing it. She put her hand on the table, palm facing up and looked hopefully at Myka. She met her eyes and it looked like she was searching for something in there. Whatever it was, she must have found it because she slowly put her hand in Helena's. Helena sighed as her fingers closed around Myka's. "Thank you," she whispered.
Myka nodded silently as she squeezed Helena's hand. Helena felt tears in her eyes. She didn't bother holding them back as she laughed with joy. She startled when Myka let go of her hand and panicked for a moment until she saw her move around the table. Myka's arms hugged her close as she pulled her down on her lap, desperately clinging to her. She felt wetness on her hand when she touched Myka's face and realized that she was crying too. Not wanting to break the moment she just held her until both their tears subsided. Myka leaned back and looked at her through wet eyelashes. She smiled a little and then gently brushed her lips against Helena's.
"I'm glad that you're getting closer," Helen said gently, effectively interrupting the tender moment. Helena's eyes shooting daggers at her seemed not to bother her one bit. "Myka, would you be a darling and help me clear the table?"
Myka started to get up, but Helena's strong arms kept her in place. They looked at each other. "It's okay, Helena," she said softly. Helena let out a breath she hadn't been aware of holding. She relaxed her arms and allowed Myka to escape from her grasp. "Helen, you're the devil," she mumbled.
"I heard that," she chuckled.
"I meant for you to," Helena quipped.
Helen gently caressed her hair and kissed the crown of her head. "Patience darling."
Helena sighed in frustration.
A couple of days later the tree of them were again together. Helen was sitting in one of the chairs across from them. Helena was relaxed where she sat leaning against the corner of the sofa, holding Myka in a soft embrace. Myka seemed relaxed too.
"Myka," Helen said softly. "What questions do you have for Helena?"
Helena startled and shot her a pleading look. She was so happy right now, why did Helen have to ruin it?
Myka sighed and sat up. She put her hand on Helena's thigh, needing the comfort and support the touch provided. "Why wasn't my love for you enough?" she whispered.
Helena closed her eyes and turned her head away. Soft fingers grabbed her chin and made her look at her. "Please Helena, I need to know."
"In the end it was," Helena whispered.
Myka nodded. "But not before that. I'm trying to understand Helena. Trying to trace your moves and understand your decisions. I can see the trail you left behind. It wasn't like you. You are too smart for that. If you really wanted to do this you would have erased all trace of your acts. I know that. You did it before."
"McPhearson," Helena said and nodded. "Yes I could easily have sent you in the wrong direction, but it didn't."
"Why?"
"I needed to know if you would come after me," she finally admitted. "I couldn't stop this force inside of me. It had taken over my soul. I felt like I had let everyone down. I couldn't allow myself to be loved by you. I didn't deserve your pure love," she whispered the last words.
"And now?"
"I'm still not sure if I deserve you, but I know that I need you. I need your strength to keep me on the right path."
Myka took her hands. "I need you too, and so does the Warehouse."
"The Warehouse?" she blurted out. She looked at Helen. She nodded in confirmation.
"Artie did a lot of soul searching and he realized that something was off with all of this. He finally figured it out."
"Figured what out?" Helena asked confused.
"What triggered your actions. It was the cape."
She remembered now. The dark shroud they had covered her with when she was stolen away from the warehouse. "What about it?"
"It once belonged to Emperor Caligula," she said and wrapped her arms around her. "It is a very dangerous artifact. It feeds on your guilt and anger, but also on your passion. It can turn you into a monster. Caligula believed that he was a god. That he had ultimate power," she whispered. "The only thing that can defeat it is love. Love for yourself, and for others," she said sadly. "Helena, until you can forgive yourself and learn to love yourself, it will still have its grip on your soul. There's no other cure for it. You need to fight it."
Helena stared at her. She started to shake. "It wasn't just my fault," she whispered as she finally understood.
"Yes hon."
Helena got up and without a word she left the room, closing the door silently behind her. Myka got up to follow her, but Helen stopped her. "Give her time to digest it Myka. She needs to deal with this in her own way. You opened her eyes and gave her permission to love herself. Have faith in your love for her. It will prevail."
Myka bit her lip. "It's so hard. I can see how much she's hurting."
Helen nodded. "Go back to your room. I'll be up in a little while."
Myka sighed but did as she asked. She glanced at Helen over by the door to Helena's bedroom one last time before she stepped through the exit.
Helena was pacing. One hand rubbing her throat as if comforting herself. She turned and faced Helen as she entered. She rushed over and grabbed Helen by the shoulders. "Helen, I can't stand this place anymore. I need air. I need to see the sky," she said desperately.
Helen nodded and took her hand. "Don't try anything, or I'll shoot you," she said half jokingly, half seriously.
Helena nodded seriously. "I won't. You have my word."
Helen had brought her up on the roof. She watched silently as Helena leaned her head back, eyes closed, her hair fanning behind her. She could see the utter pleasure the warm night air brought her. She turned and smiled at Helen. "Thank you."
They had sat down in the dark and just enjoyed the quiet night, high above the city. The stars had come out and Helena watched the sky intently, as if memorizing them. "It's not the last time, Helena," Helen said reassuringly.
"Do you remember, back in England, that night when we slept under the stars?" Helena asked, ignoring her comment.
"I do."
"Just you and me and the horses," Helena whispered. She turned and gently cupped Helen's cheek. "You were so beautiful, your body like alabaster in the moonlight."
Helen looked down a little embarrassed about the feelings Helena's words evoked. "Your words have always been your strongest weapon, Helena," she said and smiled. "Even now I am defenseless against them."
Helena laughed and pulled her towards her. "I'm glad that I have some power over the almighty Helen Magnus," she teased. She felt content holding her. It brought her comfort, but surprisingly, not passion. "Can we…" she stopped, regretting her question.
"What Helena? Please tell me."
"I just thought it would be lovely to go riding again. This world doesn't seem to have the same appreciation for horses. It's one thing that I do miss; the feel of a spirited animal under you, the danger, the power."
Helen smiled. "Maybe someday," she said in an open-ended offer.
It was hours later when she said good night to an exhausted Helena. She knew she would sleep, she was too tired not to. Silently pondering Helena's request she walked down the hall towards Myka's room. She was surprised at how late it was. She stopped outside Myka's room, but decided not to disturb her. She turned and was about to walk back to her office when Myka's door opened. She was standing there in her robe. "I thought it might be you. Please come in," she pleaded.
Helen nodded and followed her.
Chapter 8
Myka curled up on the bed as Helen sat down in one of the arm chairs.
"Well?" Myka asked.
"She's fine Myka," Helen said and smiled at her. "We spent some time on the roof.
Myka's eyes grew big. "You brought her up on the roof?!? Are you insane? What if she…"
Helen cut her off. "Don't you think I had taken precautions against that? Do you really think that I am so stupid I would have allowed Helena to hurt herself? Really Myka, have you learned nothing from me?"
Myka flinched when Helen's harsh words hit her. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just worried about her."
Helen walked over and pulled the upset young woman into her arms. "I know darling, but you need to trust that I know what I'm doing."
"I do," Myka said in a small voice.
"Come sit with me," Helen said gently and led Myka over to the couch. She watched Myka pull her legs underneath her, as if making herself as small as possible. "Myka, what do you know about the world Helena and I grew up in?"
Myka looked up at her. "Not much. Why?"
"As cliché as it might sound, Helena's childhood and upbringing has a lot to do with why she was so susceptible to the cape's power."
"How come?" Myka asked curious.
"Let me tell you about the first time I met her," Helen said and smiled. "She was nine years old, and she was very upset."
"Why?" Myka asked. "Was she hurt?"
Helen shook her head. "Not physically, but definitely mentally. Her father had yet again lectured her on the proper behavior for a young lady. He never laid hands on her, ever. Surprising really," Helen noted. "But what he did with his words was a hundred times more powerful, and extremely damaging." Helen looked her in the eyes. "Would you believe me if I told you that the reason that she was crying her heart out alone that afternoon was because she had committed the simple crime of wearing a pair of boy's trousers?"
Myka gasped. "What happened?"
"Her playmates as a child were all boys. She wanted to run like them, climb trees like them and ride horses like them. Wearing dresses did not make that easy."
Myka nodded.
"So on this particular day she had taken a pair of boy's trousers that were hanging on the clothes line. They probably belonged to one of the cook's boys. She had then ordered the stable lad to saddle one of the horses using what you would call an English saddle. She was racing her two friends when her father spotted her. He was furious. Not only was his daughter behaving like a heathen, his words, not mine, but she was dressed like a boy and her hair was not tied up."
Myka could envision how beautiful she must have been. Laughing, with rosy cheeks and her hair blowing in the wind behind her as the horse carried her to victory.
"I held her that afternoon until she stopped crying. I talked to her and finally coaxed the whole story out of her. I was horrified. In that moment I decided to make my stay with the Wells family longer. I ended up staying for almost two months. We became friends, little Helena and I," she said and smiled. "She tagged along with me everywhere I went. She was so sweet."
Myka smiled. "I wish I could've seen it," she whispered.
Helen smiled and thought for a moment. "I might have a drawing of her somewhere. I'll look."
"Please go on. What happened?"
"Do you know who George Sand was?" Helen asked, anticipating the answer.
Myka rolled her eyes. "I grew up in a bookstore, so yeah, I know who she was. Why?"
"She's Helena's great aunt."
Myka's eyes grew so big Helen was afraid they would pop out of her head. "George Sand was Helena's great aunt?" she repeated. "Wow. I knew she grew up surrounded by important people, but I had no idea."
Helen nodded. "She did. I'll tell you more about that some other time, or perhaps she'll tell you herself. Most of that happened later in her life, but George was there when she was growing up. It's actually from her that Helena got the idea to wear trousers," Helen said with a sad smile. "She adored her great auntie GG as she called her. I think GG inspired her to do many of the things she did later on in life."
Myka nodded fascinated.
"Do you know that Helena's middle initial stands for George?"
"No I didn't. After George Sand?"
"Yes."
"Wow," Myka said again. "I guess Ophelia doesn't even come close to that," she mumbled.
Helen laughed. "GG gave Helena some balance. She allowed her to be herself. They talked for hours at a time; GG never growing tired of answering Helena's steady stream of questions. She was such a curious child."
"I can see that," Myka said and laughed.
"GG also convinced her to learn to play the piano, something Helena had refused before. I remember once when her father asked her to play for their guests. Helena refused. Hands on hips she stomped her foot telling him no. She was actually quite adorable. Not that I would've told her that. All I could do was trying not to laugh out loud," Helen said and laughed at the memory. "Then suddenly GG was there. She put Helena on her lap and started telling her about her time in Mallorca with Chopin. She had been teaching Helena some of his work. She asked her if she remembered the sound of the rain. Helena, eager to please her mentor and great auntie, nodded. GG asked her to show her, and that was it. She played the most beautiful version of Chopin's Raindrop Prelude that afternoon." Helen got a faraway look in her eyes, and Myka realized that she was lost in the memory.
"I've never heard her play," she whispered. "I didn't even know that she played the piano."
Helen nodded. "That's why I'm telling you all of this. I want you to learn about where she comes from. You need to embrace all of her in order to help her." She took Myka's hands and looked at her. "Helena was told that she was bad, that she was a wicked little girl, so many times growing up, that it infested her soul. She started to believe that she was bad, and no matter what she did, she would get in trouble. So she stopped caring and just existed. I saw it slowly happen over the years, but it wasn't until years later when I met her again in London that I finally saw true challenge and rebellion in her eyes. She had left her father's house to settle in London. She was twenty years old. A free spirit. The liberal circles in London welcomed her with open arms. For the first time in her life she was free to do almost what she wanted. She drank, played cards, loved and partied. What did it matter? She would get in trouble no matter what."
"You said you met her again," Myka said encouraging her to continue.
Helen nodded, conflicted as to how much she should reveal.
Helen's sudden silence confused Myka and she looked at her, waiting for an explanation. Finally it dawned on her. "That's when you became lovers," she said quietly.
Helen nodded. "I fought the attraction. I thought it was wrong. In the end it didn't matter. She had made the decision for both of us, and I wasn't able to resist."
Myka chuckled. "Yeah, she can be pretty pushy when she wants something."
"How true," Helen said and smiled.
Myka looked curiously at her. "You said that you knew her as a child, but then you were also lovers. How much older are you?"
Helen chuckled. "My dear Myka, are you asking a lady about her age?" she teased.
Myka grinned. "Yeah, I guess I am."
Helen smiled and tilted her head. "I'm thirteen years older than Helena. When we became lovers she was twenty and I was thirty-three."
"But didn't you just say that she was twenty when she arrived in London?" Myka asked confused.
Helen nodded. "The reason Myka, that Helena and I will forever be connected is twofold, I saved her as a child, and…" she looked straight at Myka. "I was her first lover."
Myka nodded, finally understanding. She was annoyed and embarrassed about the jealous feelings that burned inside of her. It was in the past, and she could do nothing about it. She looked at Helen. "Thank you for trusting me. And thank you for saving her."
Helen nodded.
After Helen left she lay awake in bed thinking about Helena, trying to envision her as a young and carefree woman in 1880s London. Then images of her with Helen caused her eyes to fill up with tears. She knew the strength of that bond. Most lovers are forgotten over the years and fade into the past, but never your first one.
Helen poured herself another cup of tea. She glanced at Helena sitting at her desk writing. She waited until she paused before speaking. "Helena darling, would you like another cup?"
"Huh?" Helena looked at her. She had been so deep in thought she had forgotten that Helen was still there. "Yes please," she said and walked over to where Helen was sitting on the couch. She watched as Helen expertly prepared her tea just the way she liked it. She smiled at her as she handed her the cup. "Thank you."
Helen smiled and picked up her own cup again. "I was talking to Myka last night."
Helena gave her a sharp look. "About what?"
"You, me, London, George, many things," she said and looked into the tan beverage in her cup.
"Did you tell her about us?" Helena asked softly.
"Not in great detail, but yes."
Helen met Helena's dark eyes in a challenge. Finally Helena nodded and looked away. "Thank you for doing that. I'm sure it wasn't easy."
"No it wasn't, but she deserves to know. She's starting to feel jealous."
Helena smiled sadly. "You don't want me anyway, so there really is no reason for her to feel that way."
"Don't you understand? It's not my feelings that matter to her, but yours. She knows that you still love me."
Helena nodded. "I do," she said and smiled. "I probably always will."
"Any now she knows why our bond is so strong."
"Because you were my first," Helena whispered. She looked up at Helen and a mischievous smile started to form on her lips. "You do realize that I fell in love with you long before that?"
Helen smiled. "You were always mature for your age. And nosy too. I still can't believe that you spied on me."
Helena laughed out loud. "God how I've missed you Helen," she said and kissed her cheek. "I was very jealous of Catherine you know," she said, her eyes twinkled.
"Is that why you put a frog in her bed?"
Helena laughed out loud. "I'd forgotten about that."
"She was not amused," Helen laughed.
"She deserved it," Helena said and grinned.
"Why? For loving me?"
Helena nodded. "You allowed her to share things with you that I could only dream about."
"Well, if you, miss nosy had stayed out of my room, you would've known nothing about those things."
"Instead I got a firsthand lady love show," Helena said and roared with laughter at Helen's obvious discomfort.
"You were twelve years old Helena. You should not have seen that."
Helena shrugged. "Didn't seem to hurt me much. And as much as I was jealous of Catherine, she was hot."
Helen gently swatted at her. "Oh hush now."
She laughed. "You do have good taste in women Helen," she mused. "Seems like you prefer long dark hair and eyes," she teased.
"Oh do be quiet, Helena," she said embarrassed.
Helena laughed again. It just felt so good to laugh with Helen. She took her hand. "Thank you for bringing back the good memories and for making me laugh again."
Helen smiled at her and nodded. "We did have a lot of good times, didn't we?"
Helena nodded. "So what else did you tell Myka about my sordid past?"
Helen chuckled and pulled away from her. "I told her about George, and the day when you played Chopin for us."
Helena smiled. "I remember that. You know I really only played for the two of you."
"It doesn't matter, it was still beautiful," Helen said softly. "I miss it."
Helen took her hand. "Would you like me to play for you?"
Helen looked at her and nodded, but then hesitated for a moment.
Helena smirked. "If you can trust me up on the roof, I think it's fair to say that there's little I can do with a piano," she teased.
Helen laughed and nodded. "All right. Let's go upstairs. Maybe we'll have dinner too."
Helena sat down by the grand piano and gently caressed the keys. She smiled at the soft, familiar feel. She was just about to start playing when her fingertip felt something oddly familiar on one of the keys. She startled and stared at the ivory key and the scratch on it. She looked up at Helen for confirmation.
"It's the same piano," Helen confirmed.
"Wow," she said amazed and touched the dark wood. "I played for you on this very piano that night," she whispered.
"I remember," Helen said softly and put her hand on Helena's shoulder.
"You sat down next to me and thanked me," she whispered. "and then you kissed me."
Helen nodded, unable to speak.
"I had never felt more loved in my life than that night with you," Helena whispered. "You made me feel beautiful, worshipped and so very special." She turned and wrapped her arms around Helen's waist.
Helen gently caressed her hair allowing her to digest the memories from their shared past. She gently raised her chin and smiled at her. "And now there's someone else who makes you feel just like that again."
Helena smiled and turned her head. "Maybe. I'm not sure if what we had is possible to restore. Perhaps it's beyond repair."
"I know you don't really believe that darling," she said softly. Helena didn't answer. Her finger gently caressed the damaged key. She pushed it down and listened to the note. "High C," she mumbled.
Helen smiled. "Play something Helena. Anything you like." She returned to her favorite chair and sat down. She picked up the snifter and swirled the cognac around as Helena warmed up. Finally she started to play. Helen smiled. It was Chopin's Raindrop Prelude.
Chapter 9
Myka took a longer route than usual back to her room after dinner. She had been disappointed that Helen had not been present at the dinner table, but she understood that she needed to spend time alone with Helena. Still it made her cringe thinking about the two of them having dinner together. Knowing both women's love for candle light she was sure that any dinner setting for the two of them would be quite romantic in nature. It didn't matter that it was what they were used to and that they took comfort in little things that reminded them of the old days, Myka still felt the sharp sting of jealousy burn inside of her.
As she turned a corner she heard music. Surprised she walked in the direction it was coming from. The door was slightly ajar so she peeked inside. She saw Helen sitting quietly sipping a cognac while watching Helena play. She silently slipped through the door. Helen, always observant glanced in her direction. She smiled at her and waived her over. She sank down on the seat next to her. When Helen reached out and took her hand she squeezed it gently in a quiet thank you.
Myka just stared at Helena as she played. She was so beautiful. Her slender fingers floated gracefully over the keys. Her white shirt was a stark contrast to the dark wood of the piano. Myka almost felt like she was watching an old black and white movie. She felt Helen lean closer and whisper in her ear. "This is what she played that time I told you about, when she was a little girl."
Myka nodded. She wasn't too familiar with classical music so she appreciated the guidance. Chopin, she thought.
The music ended and Helena rested her hands on her thighs as she sat for a moment with her eyes closed, lost in thought.
"Go to her," Helen whispered and gave Myka a gently push.
Myka walked over and sat down next to Helena on the piano bench. Helena startled and looked up at her. "Myka," she whispered.
Myka smiled. "That was beautiful."
"Thank you darling," Helena said and smiled.
Myka reached up and tucked Helena's hair behind her ear. "You are beautiful," she whispered.
Helena's eyes twinkled and she leaned closer and pressed her lips against Myka's. It reminded her of another kiss that she had experienced so many years ago, by this very same piano. She fought the tears and instead wrapped her arms around Myka and pulled her closer. She opened her eyes when she heard the door close. She pulled away from Myka and took her hands. "We're alone," she said.
Myka looked over her shoulder. Helen was gone.
"Come," she said and squeezed Myka's hand. She led her over to the window. Standing behind Myka she wrapped her arms around her. "I need you Myka," she whispered softly.
Myka turned in her arms. "I need you too Helena, but…" she didn't know how to put her feelings into words. She kissed her softly. "I love you Helena," she whispered against her lips. "But I don't think I'm ready to accept that you have healed."
Helena sighed. "I don't know if I ever will, completely."
"I'm here for you. You aren't alone. I want this as much as you do," she gently caressed Helena's cheek. "You don't have to be perfect, no one is. I just want to have the woman I fell in love with back," Myka said gently.
Helena sniffled and nodded. "I'm trying. I really am."
"I know you are. I wouldn't be here if I didn't believe in you."
Helena smiled. "You were very angry with me when I first saw you here."
"I thought you had given up, and I just couldn't accept that."
Helena nodded. "I was close to."
"You have to fight Helena," she said passionately.
Helena chuckled. "That's what you said that awful day in Yellowstone."
"I believed in you even then hon," Myka said softly. "I just couldn't accept that you had thrown everything away, that nothing mattered anymore, that I didn't matter to you anymore. If that was really true, I had no reason for living either."
Helena startled. "Is that why you made me point the gun to your head?" she asked. Myka could hear the fear in her voice.
"Yes," she said and her voice broke. Helena cupped her cheeks and made her look at her. She saw a storm in Helena's eyes and it scared her.
"Myka, we don't know how this will end. I might never be let out," she said seriously. "I don't even know if I will survive this," she added tiredly. "What I do know is that I need you to be safe and alive. Promise me that no matter what, you will go on with your life, and find happiness."
Myka felt tears run down her cheeks. "I don't know Helena. What I feel for you is so strong, it scares me. I've never felt like this with anyone before. When you were gone, it felt like my chest was one big dark hole that just kept growing until it would engulf me and damn me to eternal darkness."
Helena shivered and pulled her close. "Dear god," she whispered.
"Every time I touch you I feel like my soul is about to burst with happiness," Myka whispered. "But now, I'm scared. What if this is the last time? What if I will never feel you again?"
Helena led her over to the sofa and sat down. She cradled Myka in her arms."I know darling, trust me I know," she whispered.
Myka looked up at her. Her mascara was schmeared and she had dark streaks on her cheeks, but it didn't matter to Helena. She was still so incredibly beautiful. She grabbed her head and pulled her to her, crashing their lips together in a kiss so desperate it took her breath away. She felt Myka's hands in her hair pulling her even closer. She tasted her mouth and heard her whimper when their tongues touched. Finally she pulled away. Out of breath she pulled Myka's head against her neck and just held her. "I want you so much it hurts," she whispered.
Myka kissed her neck. "I know."
"Whatever happens darling, I am going to make love to you again," Helena promised.
Helen carefully removed the lid and peeked inside the old box. It had been years since she last touched these items. She just hoped that the tempered storage area in the underground vault had kept them in pristine condition.
One by one she put the items down on her desk. Each carrying with it a cherished memory. Some she had forgotten she even had. She picked up a small framed picture and gently caressed the faces. Three smiling faces looked up at her. She didn't need to check the date, she knew it by heart, June 19, 1897. She debated showing it to Helena, unsure of how she would react. How she would feel about the family she had had and lost. She looked so happy in the picture. Helena was sitting with Christina standing next to her, a protective arm around the girl's waist. She was standing behind Helena with a hand on her shoulder. It had been a wonderful summer, 1897. They had spent time together at Helena's estate just doing simple things. She and Christina had grown closer that summer. She remembered one particular tender moment when Christina had fallen asleep with her head in her lap. She had watched her sleep while gently caressing her hair. When she looked up she had seen Helena standing there watching them, silent tears rolling down her cheeks. Helena had picked the girl up and carried her to her own room. When she returned she had taken Helen in her arms, kissing her fiercely. She had made love to her that night with more passion than she had ever experienced. Helen sighed. Whatever she had had with Helena had been gone forever after Christina's death. Not until she lost Ashley had she really been able to fully understand that intense pain and sheer hatred for the people who had hurt your child. She put the photo aside. She would keep it for now. There was no reason to cause more pain than necessary.
She finally selected a few items and put them aside. She carefully returned the other ones to the box and replaced the lid. Searching for a moment she found a smaller box perfect for the purpose. With the small box in hand she left the room.
To Be Continued