Prompt 231 - Bilge - Gifts - Sarbear12456 - Sanctuary

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Title: Gifts
Fandom: Sanctuary
Prompt: Bilge
Rating: Teen
Summary: Teleportation has its limits, he must journey to new places by old methods. In this case, he Warnings: Depends on how you interpret it. But remember, this is Jack the Ripper we’re talking about.
travels with is prey. John/Helen.

 

 

Teleportation was a wonderful thing. Convenient in evading adversaries, invaluable in tracking prey. But, like all things, it had its limitations and drawbacks. His destinations were limited by his memory. Unfortunately this meant that any journey somewhere new was done by conventional means. In this case, he followed his quarry to America, in the stinking bowels of the ship she had commissioned to transport her and her “residents” to the New World.

The woman he tracked so relentlessly was his former fiancé – Helen Magnus, though she bore little to the women he had once known. Her long golden locks had been darkened and cut, framing her pale face and drawing attention to her startlingly blue eyes, keen with intellect and experience. He spent much of his time in her company, a fact he ensured she was well aware of. He had not, in the thirty years since their failed engagement, ever truly been separated from her, ever truly forgotten her. And, if he felt it was necessary, he reminded her as well, no matter how hard she wished to forget.

It was that very determination to never leave her side that found him crouching in the vile mixture of brine, human waste and chemicals. Though he had fared through much worse, he could not recall ant smell as revolting as the sludge at his feet. The only scent that the odour had not erased from his mind was the smell of her. It was one he had spent ours memorising while she slept, one he could almost recognise several decks below her.

He could see nothing in the bilge, deep enough underwater that no sunlight could penetrate it. He instead planned for his arrival in New York. He would leave her a gift, several in fact, celebrating their new home, the opening of her new Sanctuary. He had done the same for every one she journeyed to, and could picture in his mind the subtle changes in her reactions over time. Such differences made her all the more interesting to hunt.

Though light did not penetrate the hull of the ship, water did. He could hear the constant drip of water over the sounds of men and monsters above and the ominous creaking of the wood. When he judged it to be midnight, with the fewest number of people above deck, he left his place of concealment and found his way to the ship’s considerable pantry. After he cleaned both himself and his clothing thoroughly enough that no smells lingered, he made his way to where he knew her rooms to be.

She lay on a large bed, covered in deep red sheets. The carpet and draperies, open to allow ample moonlight in, were matching shades. All of it was luxurious. Despite her practical personality, she treasured her creature comforts. As he shed his heavy boots and wrapped his body around her curved form, he couldn’t help but appreciate her good taste.

She didn’t wake, never did, but she exhaled as the skin of her bare shoulder was met by the palm of his hand and she moved impossibly closer. So close, the smell of her hair made that in his memory seem hollow. He moved his hand slowly down her arm, her skin far softer than he thought it could be after so many years and battles.

Lying in her bed, he forgot about filth and seawater, blood and presents, predators and prey. Her presence soothed him, kept his bloodlust at bay and reminded him when pleasure didn’t come through the pain of others.

He stayed like that until the first rays of sunlight glanced over the horizon and he returned to the darkness below.

And she woke to find a crimson pendant on the pillow beside her.