TITLE: That Which Doesn't Kill Us...

AUTHOR: DramaLexy

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing but little James.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: So after much, MUCH longer than I intended, here's the sequel I said I would write. (If you haven't read "Starting Over Backwards" already, it will help this make a lot more sense). I was inspired by some events from Season 2 (you'll know what when we get there) and Season 3. After several rewrites, I finally got this put this together. I hope you enjoy and please don't be shy about feedback! :-) Oh, and the title comes from Friedrich Nietzsche - "That which doesn't kill us makes us stronger."

Helen Magnus sat in her office, trying to go through her backlog of e-mail. Recently, her personal life had made keeping up with her work a little bit more difficult. Balancing two children, an international network of facilities, and plans for a wedding – which was now only days away – wasn't easy. However, she wasn't going to complain; she had never been happier and generally sleep wasn't all that high on her list of priorities anyway.

After completing a reply to the head of the Moscow Sanctuary, she decided to take a break from work for a few minutes. The silence in the room was beginning to concern her; she hadn't heard so much as a peep from the corner of the room that housed her eight-month-old son's play area. It bothered her slightly when James got very quiet, because she could remember well that silence had always meant trouble with his older sister. Most of the time, her concerns were unfounded, since her two children were polar opposites in almost every sense. James was a quiet thinker and could usually keep himself silently amused with a toy for far longer than Helen believed should be possible at his age. Most of the time.

As Helen glanced across the room, she quickly realized that today the silence SHOULD have worried her – her son's play area was empty. "James?" she called as she got up from her seat, fear flooding through her body. "Where are you, luv?" For most parents, the idea of their child disappearing into thin air was just a joke, but for her it was a terrifying possibility that could become reality at any moment.

Helen started to walk around her desk and nearly tripped over her son. James was sitting serenely on the floor, sucking his thumb as he clutched a little stuffed dog to his chest. He simply stared up at her with wide blue eyes as if to say, 'Obviously, I'm right here.'

Helen reached to pick him up as she asked, "What are you doing over here?" James appeared to be unharmed, so her fear eased slightly but didn't disappear. He'd still somehow gotten across the room without her noticing. Had her first thought been correct and his teleportation abilities had suddenly manifested? Tests from his first weeks of life had revealed that, unlike his older sister, James probably wouldn't need genetic modifications to make his abnormal abilities active. At his young age, he had no way of understanding how to control those abilities. In addition to the risk of rematerializing inside of a wall or a floor, there was a very high likelihood that he'd damage his brain, like his father. Helen had nightmares about the havoc that would be wreaked within little James' head.

She was about to go down to the infirmary to check her son over when she realized that the plastic gate on his play area was hanging slightly open. "Did you do that?" she asked as she knelt to inspect the fastener. It showed no signs of damage; it had simply been opened. James smiled at her, as though he understood the question and was proud of his accomplishment. Perhaps there was nothing abnormal about his breakout after all. Perhaps her fears would go unfounded for one more day.

John walked through her doorway a moment later. "Henry wants to see you in the lab when you have a chance," he told Helen before noticing the expression on her face. "What's wrong? You look pale."

She handed James to his father. "I'm fine," she replied as she went back to her desk, "Other than the fact that your son nearly gave me a coronary."

He frowned. "What did he do?"

"Cheeky little monkey figured out how to open his playpen and made an escape."

John laughed. "Did he now? Clever boy." James giggled as his father tossed him up in the air.

Helen wasn't nearly as amused. Even if her worst fears hadn't come true, the incident was still worrisome. She hadn't even noticed what her son was doing; if he'd gotten out of the room, there was no telling what kind of trouble he could have gotten into. The Sanctuary wasn't really a place for small children. "I suppose we need to rethink our plans for him during the day. I'm obviously not being attentive enough."

"I'm sure you're not the first mother to have their very intelligent child defeat a cheap plastic lock," John pointed out.

"Most mothers don't have a basement like mine," she tightly replied.

"Then it's a good thing he's still too short to reach the buttons on the lift." That comment earned him a scathing look. "Helen – " he started in attempt to appease her, but was interrupted by a squawk from James. John turned to see what had caught his son's eye and found his daughter in the doorway behind him.

"Hey, buddy!" Ashley said as she reached for the baby. Everyone knew that she and James had a special bond. "What have you been up to?"

"A bit of mischief, apparently," John told her. Ashley cocked her head in confusion as she looked between her parents, but Helen shook her head in dismissal.

"Did you need something?" she asked her daughter.

"I thought I'd take the little prince outside to play around for a bit. That okay?"

Helen nodded. "It's fine."

Before she could get out the door, however, the intercom on the desk beeped. "Hey, Magnus, you have a visitor," Will's voice came through.

Ashley smiled. "Ooh, I bet that's Grandpa!" she exclaimed before disappearing down the hall with her little brother.

John turned to Helen, studying her for a moment. He'd been growing more concerned over the past couple of months that all of her worries about him and their children and her work really would cause her to have a coronary. However, he had no idea how to make any of it better. "Are you truly all right?" he asked, taking her hand.

Helen tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "I don't really have time at the moment not to be, do I?" she replied.

"We'll make time," he promised, but she shook her head.

"No. I suppose I'm just feeling a bit overwhelmed today. My inbox is still a mess and I have several calls I need to make about arrangements for the wedding and now that Father's here…"

"Can I help?" he offered.

"No, I'll be all right. I suppose we should get downstairs and say hello."

John kept a hold of her hand when she tried to head out the door. "I love you, Helen Magnus."

Her smile turned more genuine. Despite all of the issues in their lives, she was incredibly fortunate. "And I love you, John Druitt."

As Ashley had guessed, Gregory was in fact waiting down in the foyer. By the time Helen and John caught up with their children, he was in the middle of doling out hugs and presents to his grandchildren.

"Hello, Father," Helen told him.

He smiled as he hugged her as well. "You look wonderful."

"Thank you."

"I trust you've been looking after them properly?" Gregory somewhat-sternly asked John.

Helen rolled her eyes. "Father – "

John stopped her, however. "It's all right. If I was in his place, I'd have the same concerns. I guarantee you," he told Gregory, "That nothing on this Earth is as important to me as your daughter and our children."

He looked the other man up and down for a few moments, but finally nodded. "All right, then."

"If you're quite finished," Helen told her father, "Ashley can show you your room."

Gregory smiled. "Lead the way," he told his granddaughter.

The family and Helen's staff all had dinner together that night. Gregory had several tales from his travels to share, and wanted to hear about Helen's recent adventures with the Sanctuary. It was a very pleasant evening.

Helen took James upstairs to give him a bath and get him ready for bed. Her father had had a nanny for her after her mother's death, but she'd never been able to imagine letting someone else take over the simple pleasures of interacting with her children. Once James was in his little sleeper, they sat together by the fireplace in her room so she could give him a bottle.

"Do Mummy a favor," she whispered to her sleepy son, "No more disappearing acts. At least not right now. Let me get through the next week before you start throwing new things at me, hmm?"

A quiet knock sounded on the doorframe, and Helen looked up to see Ashley. "Hey," she whispered to her mother. "You want me to put him to bed?"

"I can do it."

She shrugged. "I didn't get to hang out with him much today and you look exhausted. Go to bed; I can get him down."

Helen shook her head. "I have too much to do to go to bed."

Ashley raised an eyebrow. "Have you slept at all this week?"

"I'll be fine. But if you really want to take him…" Helen carefully unwrapped the blanket so that Ashley could pick her brother up. James whimpered a little bit at the loss of warmth, but his sister cuddled him and he quieted down.

"Come on, little prince," she softly told him.

"Thank you."

"Mmm-hmm. Get some rest at some point tonight."

Helen fully intended to get up and go back to her office, but John found her asleep in that chair two hours later when he came upstairs. He shook his head at the sight; she'd always been one to push herself until she really couldn't go on anymore.

John started to lift her into his arms to carry her to bed, but Helen woke up in the process. "What are you doing?" she asked.

"Taking you to bed."

"No, I need to – "

"You need to get some rest. It will still all be there in the morning." Helen would have protested further, but realized she really was too tired to do so. So she simply let him get her changed into nightclothes and tucked into their bed.

"Thank you," she whispered, starting to fall asleep again.

John smiled. Two years ago, he never would have dreamed that his life could be like this. "You're welcome, my love."

TBC...