The words ' Don't worry' had been said to Helen Magnus to many times. Hadn't her father said ' Don't worry', before he had disappeared for the next hundred years? Hadn't John said 'Don't worry' every time she had brought up her suspicions about the ripper attacks, before she had finally found the truth that then worried her so. Hadn't Ashley said 'Don't worry', before she had embarked on that mission with Henry?

The one that ended her short life.

No matter what any one said, she would always worry. She would always fear, she would always worry, she would always be anxious.

But she would also always love. Even though her heart was wittled down, little by little, every time she buried another friend or colleague. Even though it took every thing she had to continue when she had to bury her own daughter, when her own stupid mistakes had caused her amazing daughter to sacrifice herself. Even though every morning she almost forced herself to get out of bed.

Because she still had things to love. She loved her friends, knowing they would have her back in any situation. She loved her job, she loved helping abnormals find their way. She had always loved helping people, all the way back to when she was a little girl, helping a bug off the road. She loved the sunrise in the morning, and the gentle beauty of nature blossoming in the world each day.

In the midst of this love, she hated. She hated the Cabal, for killing her daughter. She hated the evils of the world, tugging and pulling and dragging everything good and kind down to darkness. She hated herself, for being so selfish and insisting on the Source Blood experiments, ruining so many lives consequently.

Helen Magnus lived, she loved, she worried, she hated. And the world was different because of it.