Dr. Helen Magnus (
notsocommon) wrote2012-04-15 01:33 pm
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Titanic
Helen always sort of remembered this particular day but this year it was much more keen, exacerbated by the shelf in the Compound giving her book after book on the Titanic sinking. It hadn't occurred to her at first that this was a hundred years since it happened, the century mark, and more than likely anyone who had survived the sinking ship was dead and gone.
It was the one time, aside from when she and Will arrived here on the island, that Helen had been lost at sea. It was meant to be something fun, believe it or not, and she and James had booked passage as James and Helen Carter, not Watson or Magnus, and enjoyed the time of their lives until tragedy struck.
It was stupid, honestly. Who dies on a ship because there's simply not enough life boats? James had gone in one at the first, worried for his exoskeleton, and while Helen thought perhaps he could have done just a little bit more, she didn't fault him terribly. She'd nearly died, fighting her way down to third class to save as many people as she could, and it was only Molly Brown fishing her from the water and wrapping her in blankets that kept her from dying that night in the North Atlantic.
After putting away yet another book on the subject, Helen curled into a chair and tried to hide the fact that she was, in fact, crying.
It was the one time, aside from when she and Will arrived here on the island, that Helen had been lost at sea. It was meant to be something fun, believe it or not, and she and James had booked passage as James and Helen Carter, not Watson or Magnus, and enjoyed the time of their lives until tragedy struck.
It was stupid, honestly. Who dies on a ship because there's simply not enough life boats? James had gone in one at the first, worried for his exoskeleton, and while Helen thought perhaps he could have done just a little bit more, she didn't fault him terribly. She'd nearly died, fighting her way down to third class to save as many people as she could, and it was only Molly Brown fishing her from the water and wrapping her in blankets that kept her from dying that night in the North Atlantic.
After putting away yet another book on the subject, Helen curled into a chair and tried to hide the fact that she was, in fact, crying.
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"Hey," he says, kneeling down by her chair. "What's wrong?" He suddenly worries that she might have found something relating to the Sanctuary show, but a quick glance around doesn't turn up any evidence.
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"It's just...today's the anniversary. April 15th, 1912. Titanic? And today makes a century since."
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"Unless, somehow, there's someone else here who might have been on that ship, who came here from the early part of the 20th century...otherwise, well. It's just not...I'm the only one left now."
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"It was just senseless. All those people died because of poor planning, Will. That was all. Poor bloody planning."
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Probably even more in her second go-round at life, knowing she couldn't even make sure there were more lifeboats on board or even try to avert the disaster in the first place. It's probably for the best that she doesn't know about that.
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How could she be, when lives were at stake?
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But, even then, that didn't negate the fact that she always felt this way and always felt bad even if there was one person, one Abnormal, that slipped through the cracks.
"But I guess, without me, there were many who wouldn't have been saved that were."
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"Come, let's go home. It's just going to keep torturing me if I don't leave these books alone."