I'm on the edge, and It's not glory

[Helene Hewitt]

It’ll be okay. It’ll be okay. Everything will be okay. Helene told herself with each grueling, agonizing step towards Hewitt house. They’d made it to the drive, and were nearly at the house already. It loomed tall and dark in the distance. A fortress of darkness that was just waiting to consume her. It was late, and it was dark. The day had been full of magic, and wonder, and fun, and dare she say even love. She was never going to forget this day even if in the next couple moments they’d be at her door and she would have to tell Wesley deGrey their time together was over. She’d fulfilled her promise. She’d given him a day, and the day had come to an end.

She kept her head held high, however. Refusing to let the emotions that swirled around in her like a storm make her crumble. She could do that later after he’d left. She didn’t know when the silence had started, just that at some point on the walk back they’d fallen into it. The sounds of the spring night had surrounded them. She’d changed on the ship into what she’d left the house in as it was dark enough that she didn’t think she’d be spotted and questioned. The simple wool skirt and blouse with matching jacket kept her warm, and her hair had been let out of it’s braid hours ago. Now falling in gentle curly waves down the middle of her back. Her cheeks had been kissed by the sun, her hair windblown by sea air, and she smelled of the sea. She didn’t even care.

She’d held Wesley’s hand the entire walk whether he wanted to or not. She needed him to keep her grounded. To remind her of why she was doing this in the first place. That she was protecting him from vile and evil darkness that would taint and destroy any and all good light he possessed. They were leeches. Her father, The Hewitts, Clarence… Her. She was doing this to protect him. Him and Mari. She had to keep her sister safe no matter the cost. Even if her own happiness suffered from it.

The front steps were before them before she even realized it. Her hand that wasn’t in his held tight to her satchel, and she paused for a moment, staring at those steps before her hand tightened in his, and she took a slow breath through her nose. She’d heard Elliot make Welsey promise to see her straight to the door. To make sure she got in safely. That he wasn’t to leave until she was in that house and safely shut inside. The moment of truth was coming, and each moment that passed her heartbeat even more rapidly. Do it. She growled at herself. Be a woman, and do it. Be the monster that you really are Helene. Crush him. Like father, like daughter.

How she managed to climb those steps and tug him along with her, she had no idea, but with each step, with each climb she grew colder. She could feel her heart shriveling up with each step until it was barely holding onto a thread at the door. She finally let his hand go. Letting her fingers slip through it before she was pushing the front door open, and the darkness of the house greeted her. Everyone else was either gone, or tucked up in bed already. She stood in the door way, for a second holding onto the door, while she rested her forehead against it. “Do...Do you want to come in?” She asked quietly.

Don’t do it. “It was a long walk. You should at least rest your feet.” She whispered, her dark eyes glancing up at him. She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help herself. She needed the time to figure out how exactly to tell him. How to break him in the least harmful way. She owed him that much, for the gift of the day he’d given her.

Wesley deGrey

[Wesley deGrey]

There should have been a smile on his face (even a devious one) over the fact that he was walking her home so late at night, but there was nothing but stoic expressions and silence between the two. There was a dark tension so heavy in the air between them that it was nearly suffocating because Wesley was quite aware what was about to happen. He could feel it, he could see it in her eyes whenever she dared to even look at him. Meanwhile, all he could do was stare at her. When she might have thought he wasn't, he was, all the way back to the manor.

This wasn't going to be it. It couldn't be it. He had been a little slow to realize it at first, but when he had, it hit him like a vicious crashing wave. She was his missing piece. She was what made his heart finally whole, made him actually want to return from the sea. How was he supposed to ignore that? How did she expect him to let her go? When you cared about someone, you did whatever it took to keep them in your life, to keep them safe. You didn't give up on or shove away those you loved, you just didn't.

Oh. Fuck.

That forbidden word had never occurred to him before, never strayed into his thoughts until just now. As though it had always been lingering there, always lying in wait to spring upon him when he least expected it. Was this simply care and affection, or did he love this woman? Something he had refused and thought himself incapable of.

Was he breathing? It didn't feel like it. He might pass out.

Before long, they were staring up those steps to the house and he was terrified of the words that were going to leave her lips. He was half tempted to shut her up right then and there before she could think about it, to berate her with his own sudden and frantic thoughts but he couldn't seem to voice them. She was pulling him along and, of course, he followed willingly; only breathing a little easier at her question because it wasn't a dismissal yet. Wesley nodded slowly, trying to keep the confusion from his features as he uttered that one-worded reply, "Alright."

[Helene Hewitt]

You were supposed to say you had to go. A voice yelled at him from inside her mind. He was supposed to leave, to not come in with her. Despite these thoughts, she still smiled at him. Pushing the door open further as she entered, she removed her coat and hung it up on the outline that was the coat rack. The moment Wesley was inside she closed the door before fumbling with the lantern they kept at the door. It took a few moments but she finally got it lit, and then the room filled with the warm glow of light. “Tea?” She asked softly. Afraid if she spoke any louder than a whisper it would ruin the moment. Ruin the delicate balance that was between the two of them. She couldn’t bear to look at him or else she’d lose whatever resolve she had left. She headed towards the hallway to the kitchen, taking the light with her.

She walked quickly, suddenly wanting to keep busy while she entered the clean space, and set the lantern on the table while she busied herself with putting wood in the stove and getting a kettle ready. Her hands were starting to shake though with each second that ticked by, and she forced herself to take a deep breath. Come on Helene...This is just like Yule. You’ll be able to do it. It’ll be fine. She tried to reason with herself but that fragile balance was slipping already. She wouldn’t be able to do it. Not after the gift of the day he’d been able to give her. She set the kettle on the counter after filling it with water. Her hands clenching the handle. “I...know it wasn’t planned,” She began. A slow smile beginning to appear on her face. “But, thank you.” She dared to look over her shoulder at him. “For today.”

[Wesley deGrey]

She shouldn’t have asked. Although, he probably would have found some sort of excuse to stick around for a few moments longer if she hadn’t. He wasn’t ready to part from her. He never would be, and he wasn’t done yet because she hadn’t given in. They were meant to be together, they would figure it out...she had to believe that.

Following her into the dark house, he shrugged out of his own coat to hang it up before the one word question fell from her lips. “Sure.” Helene was delaying the inevitable. He should just cut her off and tell her how he saw it was going to be, that she couldn’t force himself away, but it felt too harsh to do so at that moment. Everything was dark and quiet, the tension only growing worse.

Then in the kitchen, it was ten times worse. Wesley stood there in the gloom, watching her as she moved back and forth, occupying herself and avoiding eye contact. The need to wait and remain quiet was swiftly disappearing because he could feel how she was warring with herself, if only because he was doing it with himself.

No. She wasn’t going to do this to him again. Not ever again.

His heart was in his throat as she thanked him, and as she glanced over her shoulder, she would see him making his way up behind her. A hand fell over her own on the kettle as the other gripped the edge of the counter at her side; his face leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder. “You could have that whenever you wanted,” he began quietly. Wesley had to say it all now, he had to. “That freedom...with me.”

[Helene Hewitt]

The words “stop” were on the tip of her tongue as she saw Wesley making his way towards her. Essentially caging her against that counter and her hand tightened under his. She closed her eyes, feeling his kiss on her shoulder, and her body betrayed her as it leaned back into him. A pained expression on her face while she rested her head against his shoulder. She shouldn’t have been doing it. The physical contact was just going to make it all the more worse.

How could she want the comfort of his touch when she was going to break him? “No, I can’t.” She whispered. She couldn’t have that freedom. Not again, not ever. The little bird was getting that door to the cage closed. She hell, it was closed already. It was just a matter of the new owner coming and putting a key in the lock, and locking her in forever. She took a shuddered breath in, turning her head away. She was breaking with each passing moment. She had to get away from him. Move away and put distance between them.

With her other hand she lifted it and put it on on his wrist, pushing against him so she could try and move away from the counter. “Please, move.” she whispered. The words were like a stab to her heart as she stared at his hand over hers. She could feel him take a small step backwards, but otherwise he wasn’t budging. She took a deep breath before slipping under his arm and away. Trying to put that distance again between them. Going over to the stove to see how it was coming along stood in front of it, she kept her back to it. Biting down hard on her bottom lip. It was now or never. It had to be said now.

“We’ve had this conversation before Welsey, today was fun, but-” Her hands were shaking as she held the kettle in front of her. “It can’t happen all the time. That freedom with you-” Her voice was breaking and she took another deep breath. Swallowing the lump in her throat. Flinching at what came out of her mouth next. “I need to be practical. That was not practical, it was reckless, and irresponsible-” She started listing off what that “freedom” had entailed today even if she had had the time of her life. “Highly un lady like.” She laughed bitterly. “We can’t do this. I can’t do this. I told you why.” She said growing angry, grasping at that anger to give her the energy and will power to do what would need to be done. “I promised you a day. I completed my promise, I was with you for a day.” Her knuckles were tight as she turned around to face him. Looking at him with cold dead eyes. Pulling forth that mask she wore so well. Drawing up that emotionless expression she’d always brought out when survival was necessary. For Welsey’s protection, she would have to wear it. “Our day is over.” She whispered.

[Wesley deGrey]

'No, I can't.'

And there it was.

Despite how her body reacted, how she leaned against him, accepting that embrace, she was still trying to fight it. And it was the pain he heard in her quiet voice that caused him to take that small step back. Helene would have to force her way through.

And so she did.

Wesley felt his chest tighten, and he didn't watch her as she moved to the stove. She was speaking words he didn't want to hear, that he knew she didn't want to say but was forcing herself to. He didn't understand and by this point, he felt like he had the right to know.

"You can, but you won't," he corrected her. His voice was quiet but the pain would be evident in his tone. His fingers curled tighter around the edge of the counter before bright eyes finally shifted to find her in the dimly lit kitchen. Helene was trying to break him down, trying to act like none of this between them mattered, that it was ridiculous and folly, and impossible to keep. He was on that teetering line of anger and desperation, unsure of which one to cling to anymore. Maybe it was both.

"No," he said sternly, standing up straight as he turned to face her completely. As much as he wanted to move to her side, he didn't. "Don't you dare try lying to me, Helene. Not now. It's not going to work." She tried to insult him, and it struck him hard, but he wouldn't believe it now. He couldn't. "Maybe it's not practical," Wes admitted, beginning to take slow steps towards her again. He would take his time, never letting those bright eyes drift from her face. "Maybe it is reckless...irresponsible…very unladylike..." Wes paused maybe a foot away, his voice dropping with hope in his tone. "But you felt alive. You thrive out there, not in a fucking manor. Not in court. That spark, that drive...that fire, Helene, is what you ignited in me."

A hand lifted to draw out the small compass on its chain, yanking it forcefully to break the clasp and held it within her view. "You told me to find what I was searching for...and I have. It's standing right here in front of me, and I will not let it go." It took everything within him not to gather her up in his arms again, but he felt his throat tightening up. "It is not over."

[Helene Hewitt]

She held that kettle in her hands like it would ward off whatever demons or terrors were going to come out of the woodworks. Or in this case, Wesley deGrey’s. Why would he not just give up? Let her go like she so wanted him to do? Because he was stubborn that was why. If the roles had been reversed she was sure she would have done the same. But they weren’t. And she had to keep him safe. He did not understand, and he needed to. Even if she had to kick and scream at him. But each step he took, each word he spoke, was another blow to her already crumbling walls. She had to tell him to go. To tell him it was over.

Those eyes of his were making her squirm underneath her skin. She was going to drown in them if he kept looking at her like that. Kept speaking to her like that. She was shaking her head at him. No, they couldn’t. “We can’t Wesley, can’t you see? I NEED you SAFE!” She said desperately, her voice rising. “You aren’t safe with me. You won’t be, I will not put you in this situation. No.” She said firmly, but he kept coming towards her, and she was shaking.

And then he did it.

The wrecking ball came in out of nowhere, nearly knocking her off her feet as he took out that compass. She couldn’t be it. She couldn’t be his something, and it was breaking her to know he might care enough to call her such a thing. Helene clenched her jaw. She dropped the kettle, not caring if water spilled over the floor or it clattered to the ground. She reached up, rubbing her hands over her face. Her chest was constricting, and she felt herself beginning to crumble. To cave. Just tell him Lini, make this all stop. Make the pain stop, please. Her soul was begging her suddenly. We need him. Stop fighting it. She couldn’t do it. Any of this, anymore. It was already hurting to think about being apart from him. Those two weeks they were apart nearly destroyed her. She’d been empty. Being without him made her empty. But was she really willing to risk his life? To put him in danger? The words he told her on Yule came flickering back into her mind. How he wouldn’t mind being in the cage with her, that he took risks. But this wasn’t a risk she could take with him. It wasn’t just him she had to worry about. She had to make him understand. She took a deep breath, lowering her hands down, she raised her head to look at him.

“Wesley I-“ there was a banging on the front door suddenly, interrupting her. Her brows furrowed in surprise, and she looked towards the doorway, before she heard the front door crashing open and George Hewitts voice boomed throughout the whole house. “I don’t give a damn Bernice! where is she?! HELENE!” She could faintly hear Bernice in the background trying to reason with her husband but it wasn’t working. She could tell from the sound of George’s heavy breathing and the way he was shouting about finding her that something was wrong. What was happening? She didn’t have time to think however, she could only act. Her dark eyes were instantly on Wesley. She had to get rid of him, and now. It wouldn’t look good for her in-laws to find her with a man in her kitchen in the middle of the night. Even if they were both fully clothed. More than that...She had to protect him.

Without a second thought, Helene was grabbing the compass and shoving it into his chest, before she was taking him by the hand, and pulling him towards the doorway to the hallway. Sticking her head out into the hallway she looked to make sure the close was clear. George was calling for her again, while Bernice’s surprisingly quiet voice for once was trying to get him to calm down. Helene left the lantern in the kitchen and could faintly see the glow of a light coming from the foyer. Thankful for the darkness of the hallway to conceal them, she was pulling Wesley across the way and yanking open the supply closet. Ignoring any sounds of protest or questions he might have had as to what was happening. Without another second thought she was shoving him inside the closet. “Wesley please if you have any ounce of care for me you will stay in here and not come out, do you understand?” She whispered frantically. She cupped his cheeks to ensure he was looking at her. “Stay. Put. No matter what you hear. I will explain everything later, please my darling.” She begged him quietly. She didn’t know why the Hewitts were there but it couldn’t be good. “Stay safe.” Without waiting for a response she placed a quick chaste kiss to his lips before shoving him inside and closing the door.

She didn’t have much time and quickly tied her hair up as she hurried down the hallway, hearing George and Bernice arguing in the foyer. “My goodness! What seems to be the matter?!” She said alarmed, coming from the darkness of the hallway. She seemed to surprise the two of them. George lifted his lantern up and she could see how red and pudgy his face had become. It was a miracle he could even see her from how much he was squinting, “Youuuu!!!” He sneered, and Helene’s eyes widened in surprise, “Me,” she laughed nervously, looking at Bernice who had an angry red welt across her face. Helene could only guess how that had happened, and her sudden demeanor changed.

“What’s going on George, Bernice, Why are you here so late?” She asked. Her eyes flickering between the two of them. For once, Bernice was silent, but George just seemed to grow even angrier. “Should we go talk in the sitting room? I was just making some tea, I couldn’t sleep.” She suggested. “We can talk about whatever has distressed you George.” Her eyes flickered to Bernice again, and for once those shrewd blue eyes of hers weren’t baring into her. She was frightened. What was going on.

[Wesley deGrey]

His heart was stammering wildly inside his chest, and he realized just how terrified he truly was. For some reason, she was still fighting this even though he knew she didn't want to. Wesley wasn't making any of this up, he wasn't imagining things, and this certainly wasn't one sided. He felt it deep within his bones, in his soul, and she was going to have to do a lot more than this pathetic argument to get him to go this time. Helene was a part of him now, and he wasn't giving up so easily.

He was done with running away from things.

'You aren't safe with me. You won't be, I will not put you in this situation.' "And what right do you have to decide what is best for me?!" he quickly shot back, his voice already breaking. "Do not insult me by believing that I will not or cannot handle whatever this situation is that's keeping you from just...accepting this." His tone had risen in anger before it quickly dissolved into that mix of desperation and confusion. What was it that she couldn't say? Why wouldn't she just tell him and let him decide?

Wesley barely acknowledged the dropped kettle even as it loudly clattered to the floor, because he was closing that distance between them to draw her hands away in order to take her face into his own palms. She spoke his name, and he could feel her walls crumbling, they were so close. “Helene…” Until the front door was suddenly opening. Who in the hell would be coming at this hour, and not knock first? Wes was immediately on alert, hearing the booming voice from the foyer. "Who is-" He couldn't even finish his question as she was drawing him out of the kitchen and into the hallway.

Seriously, what was going on? The tension in the air escalated, he could feel her fear and worry radiating off of her as she was swiftly ushering him into a closet. Wait, a closet? What? He barely had time to try and make sense of it when she was taking his face now, begging him to stay quiet and stay hidden. Of course he wanted to protest! For so many damn reasons, but her words of promise to explain everything after was possibly the only thing that kept him there. For now. Her quick kiss solidified his silence for a few more seconds before the door was shut and he was completely shrouded in darkness. Only able to hear the voices on the other side.

The man, George, was furious. Wesley pressed himself carefully against the door, his hand on the handle of it. Helene told him to stay no matter what he heard...but he wasn’t going to take any chances. If something didn’t sound right, he was bursting out of there.

[Helene Hewitt]

Helene's hands tightened at her sides as she watched the two Hewitts in her foyer. The only light coming from the lantern and the candles she’d lit down in the kitchen, but thankfully they couldn’t see down that way. Helene slowly began to walk more out of the hallway, her movements slow. Afraid if she moved too quickly it would set George off. If it was one thing she was accustomed too, it was keeping her cool around angry men. “We won’t be staying long, that’s not necessary”, he nearly snarled. Helene didn’t know what was going on, or why they were here or why he was so upset. She didn’t like this, and from the looks of things they’d left in quite a hurry. Bernice’s usually perfect blonde curls were not so perfect and her clothes were rumpled. George had misbuttoned his shirt and the top buttons had been let out, and his hair was up in a word angle as if he’d been asleep and hadn’t the time to brush it. Whatever sent them here, was drastic enough to summon them from their beds.

A slow, dreadful feeling began to creep up her spine. “Tell me.” She whispered. She didn’t like this waiting, this- beating around the bush. Wesley was in a closet and she was terrified if they didn’t get on with it fast enough for her to get rid of them, he would be stupid enough to come out. And that could. Not. Happen. At this point, she’d drifted into the foyer enough to be just out of arm's reach. She held her hands in front of her, looking between the two. Giving nothing away in her expression.

“Your father,” George was jabbing one of his fat porky fingers at her as he sneered. His beady little eyes narrowed even more at her. “Has just informed us of your involvement with that- that misfit cretin!” He began to shout, his anger only growing, but so did Helenes suddenly. Oh….oh no he didn’t. He didn’t do what she thought he had done. But from the angry look on George Hewitts face, and the way he was yanking a letter out from the inside of his jacket, she knew.

She was really going to kill him.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, what are you implying?” She asked calmly, her voice calm with a hint of a chill in it as her eyes narrowed slightly. “Don’t play dumb with me Helene, we know! We know you’ve been trolloping around, caravating around in the woods and mud, and who knows what else with that deGrey! Is this some sort of a joke to you? Is your sister's safety a joke to you, Helene?” George waved that letter around like it was a weapon, and she wanted nothing more than to whip it from his hand and beat him with it.

Her blood ran cold as she stared at him. A grim expression crossing her face while the adrenaline began to surge through her veins. “I have no idea what my father has told you George, but I have not been doing what you're accusing me of, and of course my sister's safety is not a joke. I am deeply offended you would even think to think that of me!” She defended herself. George was taking a few steps closer, closing that distance between them, but Helene stood her ground. She would not be pushed around in her own home. And if George had seen her father he’d seen what happened when she was.

“Do not, tell lies.” He hissed, spittle flying from his mouth. “Clarence has told us much the same in what he’s seen of you two.” George began and Helenes nostrils flared in anger. “Clarence is a sniveling weasel who doesn’t know what he’s talking about! He’s clearly seen a misunderstanding and has no reason to-“ her head was suddenly whipped to the side as the sound of the backhanded slap filled the air. Helene was nearly knocked off her feet and her cheek stung from not only the sunburn but from the backhand now too. She was in shock for a moment before George Hewitt's large hand was grabbing her by the jaw. A gesture she wondered if he’d learned from her father on how to handle Helene. He held her tight, his pudgy fingers digging in as he yanked her forward. “Don’t you dare insult my son in front of me, woman.” He whispered in a deadly calm, that sent a chill down Helene's spine. She clenched her teeth together, keeping her hands down by her sides despite how much she wanted to pry his hand away from her. She had to be docile. To behave, if she caused any sort of commotion it would draw Wesley out and she couldn’t risk that. He was safely tucked away and she wanted him to stay there.

Helene pursed her lips, not speaking as she stared George down. There was a moment of long drawn-out silence before he was satisfied that she wouldn’t do anything and released her jaw. Running a hand over his protruding belly as he stepped away, turning away from her. “Whatever it is going on between you and that deGrey will end Helene. We’re shortening your time. Instead of the beginning of summer you have three months. Three,” Helene was frozen in place as the rest of her blood ran cold, and he held up three fingers. “Since you're so busy having fun with your misfit, you don’t mind right?” There was a slow greasy grin that appeared on George’s face. As if he knew she would never pursue a marriage with Wesley given his profession. “It’s time to get serious, Helene. Playtime is over, you want to keep your sister safe, you are to marry in three months. If your smart, which I know you can be,” his voice turned to venom as Helenes breathing hitched. She was struggling to breathe despite the calm expression she had on her face. Keep it together. She told herself. “You’ll marry Clarence. You’ll keep the house. But if you're so insistent on denying him, then I suggest you get to work and stop fooling around or you're nothing but a wretched whore like your father says and you lose everything.” The blade went Into her heart and was suddenly jerked to the side. How dare he. How dare them? George tossed the folded letter at her but she let it hit her shoulder and flutter to the ground. She didn’t want to read it. Didn't want to see what it said. Her father had told him all the right things to get her to bend. To get her in line. He knew her weaknesses and he was reminding her yet again who he was.

What he could do.

What and who he could take away.

[Wesley deGrey]

Wesley didn't like this. He didn't like this at all and he was wondering if he should go back on his promise. Well, in actuality, he hadn't promised that he would stay in there...but her frantic actions, her pleading were the only things that kept him silent, and soon enough, George Hewitt's booming voice was echoing down that hallway.

And the man's words stilled him immediately.

Was he actually hearing this? Sure, he had spent all day out in the sun, but he was fairly certain that his mind was clear. Wes leaned against the door a little more, trying to listen carefully, suddenly feeling like his heart was going to burst through his chest. '...and who knows what else with that deGrey! Is this some sort of a joke to you? Is your sister's safety a joke to you, Helene?'

What was actually happening right now?

Somehow, for whatever reason, this man was insinuating things he shouldn't have even known, even if...well, most of them were true. Still, it was damn alarming, nor did he understand why it even mattered. It filled Wesley with a sudden dread, wondering if he had missed a very important fact. Was Helene already betrothed? Was she promised to someone else? And what did it have to do with Marinette? Was she in danger?

His mind was flooding with questions he wanted to just scream out but couldn't. No, he was forced to remain quiet, to remain hidden from whoever this man was and it was making his blood boil. Especially when he thought he heard someone lash out. Wesley gritted his teeth, Helene's words of warning echoing in his head to not come out no matter what. He was conflicted, his grasp upon the door handle tightening until his knuckles were white.

'Whatever it is going on between you and that deGrey...'

'Instead of the beginning of summer, you have three months.'

'Playtime is over, you want to keep your sister safe, you are to marry in three months.'

'...stop fooling around or you're nothing but a wretched whore like your father says and you lose everything.'

It was nonstop, this flood of emotion. He was angry, confused, guilty and he wasn't entirely sure why. Wesley wanted to burst out from that closet and break the nose of whoever this bastard was. He wanted to demand answers that everyone else in the fucking world seemed to have but him. He was left in the dark, quite literally, but currently he needed to get out of there to make sure that she was alright. Despite everything, that dire need was still there.

If this discussion didn't end in the next minute, or he heard her cry out, he was opening that door.

[Helene Hewitt]

Helene clenched her jaw, her nails had dug into her palms at her sides. “Do I make myself clear?” George asked her. “I will not stand for you dirtying the Hewitt name. Get your act together...or else.” He threatened lowly. Helene had a sinking feeling he would keep it too. She forced herself to take a deep breath, raising her head up proudly, as she bore her dark eyes Into the repulsive man. “Understood perfectly George.” She said calmly. “Good. We’ll see how your search is going in two weeks to make sure you haven’t forgotten what’s at stake.” He said turning to head towards the door. Bernice was looking at Helene for a moment with pity in her eyes, or was it understanding? Helene stared at the other woman for a moment, suddenly wondering how different Bernice was from her. If in fact Bernice was a version of Helene that had let Stephen live. A version that had been corrupted and tainted by the Hewitt men. Bernice was the future that Helene was to have if she married Clarence. No, she’s already seen what that future looked like and she refused to be that woman. Bernice was a version of Helene that had lost the fight. Had lost to the fear of what these Hewitt men could do, and it was Helene that pitied her in that moment.

“I won’t forget.” I won’t forget any of this you fat bastard. She thought. “Come Bernice.” George grumbled, yanking the door open, and ushering his wife out. He threw one more glare over his shoulder at Helene before he stepped through the doorway. She was keeping it together. She was holding herself together. She would not break, she would not fall, she wouldn’t not cry. Her chest was tightening, breathing was becoming increasingly more difficult. She felt her throat closing up and there was a heavyweight on her chest while her skin began to crawl. The darkness was settling in while the reality of George’s words hit her. It had its claws around her. Its hold was tightening around her throat, her vision was going blurry. The moment she heard the front door click, it was as if something finally snapped, and she crumbled.

Her legs no longer would hold her up. She would no longer stand tall and stare defiantly at the Hewitts. The fight she’d had just moments ago vanished, and she was defeated. Broken beyond repair. Mari was getting put on a ship, and Helene was going to walk right into the ocean and become a ghost. Letting it take her out into it’s dark depths. Her hope had gone out. There was no time. She collapsed in a heap on the floor in the middle of the foyer, as the tears rolled down her cheeks and she fought back the sobs, but it was no use. There was no fighting the waterfall of tears as her well-built dam finally crumbled. Years of no longer crying, of being strong, and every tear she’d ever wanted to shed came pouring out. She took off one of her shoes and hurled it at the door with an anguished cry. It hit before falling to the floor and she let a broken sob out before she covered her face with her hands and began to bawl her eyes out.

[Wesley deGrey]

With every second that ticked by, the tighter his grip on the door handle got. He was struggling to believe that this was even happening, that he was even hearing any of this properly. It didn't make any sense, and yet...in a weird, horrifying way, it did. Wesley couldn't put all the pieces together currently, but some were starting to fall into place as to why she was trying to deny him. Why she felt she had to.

And he didn't know how to take it. He didn't know what to think about it or even what he would do about it. She was being forced to marry? Was he hearing all of this correctly?

He realized he wasn’t breathing.

All the voices were gone and he hadn’t heard the front door close. It wasn’t until he heard something being thrown, when he heard her cry out that Wesley finally opened that door swiftly. He took a couple of steps out of the closet, searching the dark hallway until he saw her there on the floor, and he was immediately rushing to her side. He barely registered that his hands were shaking a little, that his heart was fluttering wildly in his chest, and the letter crumpled a little beneath his boot. For the moment, he left it there, because he was dropping to his knees in order to gather her against his chest.

Every voice in his head was screaming, trying to make sense of things, trying to find something to say. He should be saying something, anything, but he felt speechless and in ways more confused than he had been.

“Are you alright?” he finally asked, his voice barely breaking the silence. No, she clearly wasn’t, but he wasn’t asking emotionally. He was afraid she was physically hurt in some way but there wasn’t enough light for him to see. Still, he shifted enough, a hand moving to cup the side of her face, gently urging her to face him. “Helene…” Wes still didn’t know what to say. He understood, but he didn’t. He was freaked out, but he wasn’t. Nothing felt logical. “Why...didn’t you just tell me?” His voice was still extremely quiet.

[Helene Hewitt]

How was she ever going to face Mari now? To tell her their time was shortened? Helene had until essentially mid spring . Which was nearly around the corner. What would she do? Those vile evil monsters were taking more of her precious time. Father. This was his doing. Hitting Helene where he knew it would hurt the most. It made her cry all the harder, as she wrapped her arms herself and turned in.

She felt arms around her, pulling her into a firm chest. Her body relaxed as if it knew she was safe in those arms and she turned and cried right into Wesley's shoulder. Her hands gripping his shirt as she practically wailed into him. It was over. Everything was over and done for. She was a broken woman and Wesley was now going to have to deal with the broken pieces.

Helene laughed bitterly at his question, feeling the short huff of laughter coming up through her sobs as she looked up into his blurry face. “No,” She managed to say while huffed in a breath. “I’m not okay, t-they,” She was leaning forward to cry into his chest again. Her hands were a death grip in the fabric, and she wanted nothing else then to disappear and fade away. Gone. She just...wanted to drift away with the ocean. “Finally b-b-broke me.” She whimpered as her whole body shook. Her throat felt like it was going to close up on her and like she couldn’t get in enough air. She felt his touch on her cheek, making her look up at him, as her bottom lip quivered. It was another blow to her gut. How could she tell him? It was her burden, something she never wanted to worry another with. It was just...She’d say it was how she was raised, but it was in fact how she raised herself. If she wanted anything done she had to do it herself. She couldn’t rely on others. If others could be relied on then her and Mari would have been out of their fathers care years ago.

She blinked, trying to clear her vision of the tears. “And tell you what? That I’m essentially a prisoner in my own home? If I want to keep my sister safe from my m-m-monster of a father I might have to marry a worse man than my father and my former husband combined?” She reached up to gently touch his cheek. “You’re too good Wesley. L-living sunshine.” There was a faint smile on her face, before her face was crumbling again. “It was my burden, my responsibility, I d-don’t want y-y-ou to get-” He was already involved whether he wanted to be or not. No matter how much she tried to keep him out, her father had dragged him back in. He was going to use Wesley deGrey against her. “Touched by their corruption.” She was trembling at this point, her teeth were chattering together as if she was cold, but it was from the despair she felt. She was done for, there was nothing that could be done. “There’s still so much you don’t know…” She whispered, with a small shake of her head. “I can’t do it anymore, them- I can’t.” Her voice was cracking before she was covering her face and giving in to the sobs again.

[Wesley deGrey]

Suddenly, he was stunned into silence. Although his body knew to keep his arms around her, for his fingers to try and do the impossible job of wiping her tears away, his mind wasn't functioning properly. Wesley was still trying to fathom why she kept this from him, even while she was sort of explaining it. She was trying to protect him from "their corruption", but how? Why? Did she think he would marry her out of pity? Did she think he would have run away from the idea of it?

Did she fear and dislike the idea of marrying him if it were an option?

Was it even an option?

Just thinking that seemed to make his stomach twist into knots because he wasn't expecting it. Her words from Yule, about being a sailor and how he would always leave her echoed back at him. Had that been her true feelings or just a way to get him to leave her? Did it make him incapable of protecting her? Was he useless, was all of this just pointless?

Wesley was beginning to spiral out of control but he couldn't allow himself to. Not right now, because right now he had to focus on her. No matter what he felt.

'There's still so much you don't know...'

"Then tell me," he whispered back. He shifted then, gently moving her so that he could slip an arm under her knees as the other was around her back. Wesley hoisted her up from the cold floor, finding his way towards the room where Marinette had told her story, where both families had gathered by the fire those couple of weeks ago. Maybe he should be running away right now, a small part of him was certainly thinking it, but he wasn't. He didn't want to.

Wesley set her down on the couch, searching the darkness for wood for the fireplace. She'd have a couple minutes to compose herself, if she even could, before he managed to spark the fire to life, immediately lighting up most of the room. The warmth was inviting, yet he still grabbed a blanket to drape over her after removing the one shoe she hadn't thrown down the hall.

Still unsure of how to react, he simply focused on her. That he could do. He was good at that. So, he lowered himself onto the couch beside her, reaching for one of her hands. "You listen to me, Helene..." he began to speak again, hardly realizing that his own voice was shaking a little. "You are not broken. You are stronger than this because I have seen it. Because I know it." He carefully reached for the compass necklace she wore. "There is always another path..." Wesley told her this once before, and he stood by it.

The logical thing to do would be to give in, to ask her to just marry him, if only to remedy this cluster of problems. But he hesitated, and he didn't know why. Was he afraid to? Did he not want to?

That was the scary part- he didn't know, and it made him feel weak.

[Helene Hewitt]

"Then tell me," Helene just shook more, as his arms went around her and she barely realized he was carrying her into the sitting room. When she was sat down on the couch, she was sniffling, wiping at her cheek with the back of her hands and pulling her legs up to her chest. “...tell me…” All the times he’d asked for her to just tell him. All the times she’d wanted to tell but had forced herself not to finally came to this moment. The question was, where did she start? It was going to be a lot. They could be there all night, but that was something she was okay with. If he left now, she was terrified of what she would do to herself all alone in this house.

She took a deep breath, hugging her knees as she watched him build the fire, and once he wrapped the blanket around her, she pulled it tighter around her, before she squeezed his hand. She glanced up at him, and smiled weakly as he pointed at her compass. She’d have to fix his later she thought randomly, and then demand he never do what he did to it again. But she could scold him later... She might have believed him ten minutes ago. Before the Hewitts arrived, she'd finally broke. She could feel it. She was finally caving. It had taken George Hewitt to finally do it, though Helene knew if Wesley had pushed a tad bit more in the kitchen she would have caved. She couldn’t deny it. Either way, he would have been told this night. Everything.

She took a deep breath, resting her head against his shoulder. “It’s a long story.” She said softly, swallowing the lump in her throat, but she forced herself to get on with it. “Our father hits us.” She whispered. “He’s always been this way. For as long as I can remember. Our mother, she used to take our beatings for us if we didn’t behave. She’d get blamed and then he’d punish her. He’s a drunk, a gambler. We watched him get worse and worse, and as we got older we tried to do what he wanted. To be obedient, good girls.” She said disgustedly. Her hand tightened in his. She took another deep breath and could feel the flood of tears coming again. “Mari had heard a noise, one night, and had gone to look. Father was drunk, and had gone to hit her-” Her voice cracked as that night replayed in her mind. “I got in the way.” She whimpered. “Stopping him, and he held me against the banister, threatening to shove me over the railing. Mari had run to get Maman, and she came and got him to let me go, only they were arguing, and then-” She closed her eyes, talking in a shuddering breath while the tears rolled down her cheeks. “He pushed her, and Maman fell down the stairs.” She bit her bottom lip, before she looked up and over at him. “She died several days later from her injuries. No one believed us when we tried to tell them what really happened.” She whispered. “I was twelve, Mari was ten. And after the funeral he gave me my first real beating for even daring to talk to someone about what really happened.” She explained.

She averted her eyes, resting her head on his shoulder again, drawing herself closer to him. “Since then I did my best to make sure Mari didn’t get hit. I took the majority of the beatings. Every scar I have is from him.” She whispered. “He found out about Elliot.” She said softly. Her eyes glancing up again as a deep sadness crossed her features. “I would sneak down to the docks, because it was peaceful and someplace he would never look for me.” She explained. “He caught me coming back one day and found out what I was doing. So he tied me up to a tree out back and whipped me until I passed out. I was sixteen.” Helene found herself unable to stop then. It just...flowed out. All the abuse she’d ever suffered, no one had dared ask, and she hadn’t told. But now? Her eyes were watching the flames of the fire, in a trance as she explained the scars on her left side that she knew he had seen. That her whole back was scarred from his whip. The mental abuse he’d inflicted, how she’d learned she had to do everything herself, because it was only her and Mari she could rely on. She had done everything she could to protect Mari from him. ”Clearly, it didn’t stop me, I just got smarter about my visits.” There was a small semblance of a smile.

Helene ran her thumb over the back of Wesley’s hand as she sat there, her breathing had calmed down only slightly, but it was picking up again, and she bit her bottom lip, her eyes going back to look up at him. “He made me marry Stephen, so he could have access to the Hewitts money.” She whispered. “Some sort of business deal, they fund father’s mining expeditions.” She sighed. “I thought he was different from father...thought I was going to finally get a happily ever after, but I was stupid.” She said bitterly. Anger started to take hold of her. She glanced at the fire again, pursing her lips as she pulled the blanket closer. “He painted a pretty picture, and everything was perfect, and I was stupid to think I might have actually loved him.” She whispered. “He found out about the sailors too, and he asked that I stop visiting. He didn’t like it, but it was something I enjoyed doing, and I thought he would understand where father didn’t, but we started to argue and-” She bit her tongue, taking a deep breath. Squeezing Wesley’s hand again. “He showed his true colors that night.” She said quietly.

She slowly turned her body so she was facing Wesley, taking his hand in both hers, Looking down at his hand that had been so gentle to her. She pondered what to say next, but he’d heard the sins of the father, so it was time to hear the sins of the daughter. Her chest tightened and she felt tears slowly begin to roll down her cheeks while she stared at his hand, tracing her finger over the lines of his palm. “He beat me so bad I was on bed rest for two weeks.” She whispered. “Darragh and Angus thought I was dead when they found me.” She bit her bottom lip, and closed her eyes, feeling her body tense. “Stephen paid the doctor off.” her voice cracked, and then she opened those dark eyes to look at Wesley, the pain she felt that day when she’d been told of what she had lost came flooding back. She couldn’t say the words, she hadn’t even been able to tell Mari. Wesley was the first to know about any of this. She took another deep breath. “Wesley...I didn’t just want to protect you from my in-laws, or my father.” She whispered. Her expression saddened even more, before she hardened it. “I was trying to protect you from myself as well.” She confessed. Then, with a deep breath, and without blinking an eye she told him her darkest secret. “A life for a life.” She whispered. “I killed him.”