A/N: I adore Will and Magnus together as an actual couple, but this idea just came to me and I really wanted to write it. It's also my first fully finished Sanctuary story, so it's my baby! Please enjoy!

Waiting for the Fall

She is not ready for this. Her heart still yearns for John, sometimes, late at night, and tears begin to fill her eyes as she thinks of him.

He is not ready for this. Josie was not so long ago, and there are others, and he struggles for breath as he thinks of the painful scars he has collected.

But as he touches her shoulders softly in the darkness and her breath catches, neither of them cares about the past. He leans down and their lips meet, softly, gently, and when they break the kiss she leans her head on his chest. It may not be right, it may be insanity, but it is what they want at this moment.

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

The next morning Will is unable to concentrate on work. Kate catches him daydreaming in his office, eyes unfocused, paperwork unfinished on the desk. He turns the wrong way on his way to Henry's lab and ends up in the kitchen, thoroughly confused as to what he is doing there.

Helen focuses better - she has been through this before - but the Big Guy catches her staring out her office window with a smile on her face, and she completely misses Henry's questions the first three times he asks if he can buy some new tech gadget that will supposedly help them on missions.

That night at supper she catches him staring, numerous times. Each time he jerks his gaze back to his food and she continues the many conversations that circulate around the table - but again and again their eyes meet. Finally he stands and mumbles something about having work to do and leaves the room. She waits for the others to finish and leaves with them, following the familiar path to his office.

His door is open, but he is anything but calm inside. Instead he paces furiously, hands flying through the air as he struggles with his silent thoughts. She leans against the doorjamb for a moment, watching his inner turmoil, before she ventures into the spoken word. "Will?"

He stops suddenly, but he doesn't turn toward her. "Magnus."

Last night he called me Helen, she thinks, slightly disappointed. Shaking the thought from her head, she steps further into the room. "Are you all right?"

Silence. Neither moves, for how long, they aren't sure. Finally he begins pacing again.

"No, I'm not all right," he blusters, brows furrowed, fists clenched. She steps forward and reaches out to touch his shoulder as he nears her, but stops when he bursts out, "Don't." She lets her hand fall back to her side and stands there awkwardly, feeling uncomfortable in his presence for the first time.

"I can't do this, Magnus," he says quietly, dropping heavily into an armchair, head pressed into his hands. She wants to go to him, to comfort him, and she contemplates sliding onto the arm of his chair and wrapping her arms around him, but she thinks better of it and instead sinks cross-legged to the floor in front of him, glad she is wearing an uncharacteristic pair of jeans.

"Can't do what?" she asks, knowing full well what he means but wanting to hear his explanation. He finally lifts his face from his hands, a haggard expression lurking there, and his stormy eyes find hers. She is shocked by the pain they hold.

"This," he says simply, gesturing with his hands to encompass it all - not just his office, but the Sanctuary as a whole, and the pain they've both endured recently. He points at her. "And you."

There is a flutter in her chest at his words, at his inclusion, even though it is in the things he believes he can t deal with. She reaches up and places her hand over his on his knee, gratified when he doesn't pull away.

They sit like that for a few moments, quiet, fear and desire and lots of other things filling the air between them. He sighs, the sound full of pain and uncertainty and discomfort, and she wants to hug him, to tell him it will all be okay. But she knows that will not help, he has already told her she is part of the issue right now, yet she still longs to be part of the solution.

"I want you too much!" he bursts out, on his feet again in a second. He begins pacing again, but she remains on the floor, watching him with darkened eyes. Finally she stands, and as he approaches her, she reaches out and places her hands on his shoulders. He struggles slightly, but she stands firm, and finally he relents.

"You really think so?" she asks. He begins to nod vigorously, but it tapers off quickly, changes to a shake of the head, and ends as his head droops forward.

"I don't know anymore," he muses, mumbling, "and that is what is screwing with my head." She does not respond out loud, just lets him think through his words. He doesn't elaborate, so she takes a deep breath and tries to continue the conversation.

"You think I know any better than you?" she asks. He looks up, startled. In his eyes, she is almost infallible. To hear her admit to ignorance is nearly sacrilege.

She steps forward slightly, hands still resting on his shoulders, and he brings his own hands up to rest on her hips - almost involuntarily. She shivers at the touch and he moves his hands away, but she shakes her head slightly and he places them back - slowly.

"Is this what you want?" she asks. He wraps his arms around her waist and she wraps hers around his neck until they're pressed together, her head on his chest, and he leans down and kisses the top of her dark curls.

"Yes," he breathes softly, "and no." He can feel her smile against his chest, and it makes his heart beat faster. Her words do, too.

"As long as you're mine," she says, "I'll have you."

Maybe it's not right, maybe they'll fall just that hard, but right at this moment, it's all they need.