Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

By seven in the morning, Helena had come to the conclusion that she hadn't ever really left home. She was permitted trips to the Lumon offices, an occasional board meeting or banquet, and on the ever so rare occasion her father deemed her worthy, the Eagan family library. Yet after four hours driving down a road leading god knows where, the reality of her sheltered life had set in. Everywhere she went was owned by her father. She had always known it, to a certain extent. But everything she experienced was a direct continuation of the life she had been taught. The prim and proper life she had been taught. Helena hadn't ever been allowed to leave the grounds without at least one of the family security guards, and every outing had to be approved (though there were many ways around that). But she was an adult, and she was tired of being treated as if she wasn't. 

So she left. Gathered the few things she loved, swiped the only photo of her mother off the mantle, and of course her father's wallet. Helena technically hadn't ever driven, but after a couple hours on deserted highways she was pretty confident in her abilities. By the time the sun was almost risen, she had developed a short to-do list. Her left thigh still ached from the previous day's "correctional" session and the gauze was nearly bled through, so first was finding somewhere to clean up the wound and redress it. That was about as far as she got. 

The car hummed quietly as it went over the road and within 15 minutes it became one in a sea of commenters. Thankfully the newer models of Lumon Electric were partially self-driving.  A quick look at the navigator and Helena determined the crowds must be students and faculty coming into Ganz for the local college. After a moment of consideration, she followed the crowds in their right turns off the highway. Surely there was a hospital that could help. Helena was aware that she was slightly older than the average college student but having been on a diet her whole life maybe she could pass as a senior. Maybe she could pass as a senior who had forgotten their ID but desperately needed some medical assistance.

Jame Eagan had always insisted on keeping the world in the dark when it came to the Eagan family. Helena had attended board meetings as a bystander in the back of the room. The banquets she observed from quiet, contained, corners. As far she was concerned no one knew that Jame even had an heir, let alone what she looked like. She laughed to herself, a small and soft little chuckle. Her father had wanted to keep her a secret, one only to be revealed once he had passed. Now, Lumon would have no one to take over. No properly trained little girl ready to step into dear old dad's footsteps. As Ganz slowly came into view, Helena's stomach rumbled. Maybe some breakfast, after a visit to the college health center. Parking the vehicle proved to be the most challenging part of driving. She gathered up her bag of belongings and stuck it beneath the passenger seat, careful to take out some cash and her purse. After she reapplied the touch of mascara and lipstick she had hastily put on before leaving, she took a step outside. Truly, Helena Eagan's first step of freedom.

Ganz was worn down. The buildings of each college hall were weathered and had various vines growing at the base. The wooded accents could use an update and the bricks that made up most of the exterior walls were a little crumbly. Students of various ages, ethnicities, genders, and races walked in and out of the building in front of Helena labeled "Student Center". She had never seen so much diversity. Occasionally the board meetings would have one member that wasn't as stark white as the Eagans. Sometimes she would see a wife or two at the banquets be a little more tan than the rest. But here, at this old withered building so many others would refer to as a prison in itself, Helena free. 

"Dude you totally ghosted us this weekend"

Her head whipped around at the sound of someone speaking. Three men were walking in tandem towards one of the buildings off to the side. 

"Dylan I never said I would go. You know I hate that place."

"Irv tell him he needs-"

The men had been walking away from her, and that was about all she caught before it turned to muffles. A glance up would inform her just how much her family actually seemed to own. The men had walked into a building labeled the "Kier Conservatory". Gooseflesh ran its way over Helena's body and as it rippled over her legs, the wound began to ache more. Promptly forgetting the trio, she headed in the opposite direction towards the student center.

It was sleek inside but lacked that horrid sterile feeling home had always brought. White walls and floors were accented well with pops of blue. A welcome desk was tended by various students Helena guessed were around her age. She approached a girl whose nametag read Natalie.

"Goodmorning! How can I assist you today" Natalie spoke in an almost unnatural way. Her smile was a bit too bright for being so early.

"Hi" Helena started cautiously. "I need to know where the campus hospital is?"

"Campus hospital?" Natalie's head cocked to the side in confusion "Do you mean the student health center? they can only do minor assistance, if you need the hospital the-" Natalie had begun to type into a computer, which caused Helena a bought of anxiety.

"No! no, the health center is perfect. Where is that exactly?" Helena gritted out. It wasn't the most convincing display that she was okay, but if Natalie doubted it she certainly didn't question it.

"Okay... Well-" Natalie pulled out a paper map of campus alongside a pen and began drawing arrows "-We're here in the student center. Health center is right around this hallway, down those stairs, and on the left!" The eerie smile was back as she handed over the map. "Anything else?"

"No, thank you" and before Helena could hear a response, she was limping down the hallway. 

The walk from the car to the welcome desk hadn't been that bad, but going down a flight of stairs had been torture. After begging with the desk attendant to let her in despite not having an ID, the campus nurse had looked at Helena with concern and empathy, urging her that if a boyfriend ("or girlfriend" the nurse had quickly added) was abusing her, the campus had resources. But it wasn't abuse, she thought to herself. The homeschooling had taught of abuse a bit. That was when someone hurt you for no reason. Correctional sessions hurt a bit, but they weren't for no reason. They were a punishment. She brushed the nurse off, asking her kindly to just help get some new gauze and to clean the cuts. Hesitantly, she complied. Twenty minutes later Helena was sent on her way with a fresh bandage, a couple pain killers, and a pamphlet on domestic violence. Her rumbling stomach dictated that food was next. There must be food somewhere on campus, she thought, but the idea of having to go talk to chipper Natalie at that help desk was enough to convince Helena to wander instead.

A step outside proved how nice it was. They were right at the tail end of summer, and a slow breeze was proving autumn had arrived. Helena meandered towards the center of green, grassy area with a fountain in the middle. College students surrounded the trees, all with drawing pads and charcoal in hand. One student's pad displayed an amazing recreation of the fountain in front of her, while another's showed a side profile of a different student. An older gentleman in the middle was lecturing about feeling the energy mother nature outputs. As she ventured farther from the Student Center, his lecture became clearer.

"Cmon kids were coming out of summer! Mother nature has shown herself to us. Just like she is never cruel to you and I, we must not be cruel back. Make art out of her creations! Bask in the beauty of leaves falling and consider what the beauty implies about death!"

Mother nature, what an idea. Jame had always made sure her schooling was Eagan based. Praise was given to Kier, not some abstract ideal of nature. But it was also reassuring, in a way. Helena's ideas were paused when the distinct sound of a Lumon walkie beeped. Helena knew those walkies. They were the walkies every single security detail had carried her whole life. That beep haunted her nightmares. Truly, she acknowledged, it was silly to think that no one would follow her. Maybe the car had a tracker, maybe the wallet. Both had been abandoned in the parking lot anyways. Yet out of the corner of her eye, she noticed that familiar raindrop logo on phone from yards away. She knew running would grab attention, attention she didn't want. Stomach rumblings long forgotten, She pivoted and walked the couple paces to the closets building. 

The Kier Conservatory. The irony of hiding from her father in a building named after Kier wasn't lost on her. The inside of the building hadn't been updated in a while, smelling a bit musty. There was a bulletin board with the history professors, one of which was the man she had seen earlier. Helena didn't know how much time she had and frankly didn't want to find out. Instead, she took the very first door on the left. She was quick to close it behind her, finally daring to take deep breaths and let the anxiety start to seep out.

"Can I help you?"

Fuck. She hadn't looked at the door, really. Not before darting in. As she turned, Helena realized the gravity of that error. The room she had stumbled into had at least a few dozen students and a tall brown-haired man standing in front of a white board with the words "World War One propaganda" across it. Helena froze for a second, recognizing the man from both the hallway bulletin and outside the student center.

"I'm sorry, I think I got lost..." her face flushed red. The man's eyes softened a bit. If eyes could be kind, his were.

"Oh! don't worry. we've only started a little bit ago. Now are you-" He picked up an attendance sheet and flipped through the names "- Carmen C, or Helly R?" Helly. Jame didn't believe in nicknames. He had named her Helena; she would be called Helena. But Helly; That felt like her. A little unique, a little carefree, and most importantly, not an Eagan. She didn't know who Helly R actually was, but praise Kier it was her now.

"Helly. My name is Helly." The man's eyes lit up despite Helly being a bit shy and cautious in speaking.

"Well, Helly, welcome. Take a seat anywhere" He went back to writing on the board. Sitting in the back seemed unappealing; a lot easier to get grabbed from way up here. No, instead she worked her way to the front, cautiously selecting a seat in the 2nd row by herself. The professor continued through the rest of the hour, and thankfully no security detail showed up to whisk her away. Hearing his opinions and listening to his teach was an experience Helly hadn't ever had. For once, the teachings weren't Eagan or Lumon based. It was just, what happened.  As the man finished up his lecture, students began to pack up and filter out. Helly stayed put until it was just her and the man left.

"I hope i didn't bore you too much" Helly looked up at him, and realized she needed to find somewhere else to hide. 

"Oh, no not at all. I'm sorry I-" Helena would've said barged in. Helena didn't belong in a college classroom. Helena was born to be above all of this. But Helly, she decided, was late. Helly was simply late. "I'm sorry I was late, Mr..." Helly was also the type to not know her college professors, evidently. 

"Mark Scout, but please just call me Mark. I already feel old enough" Mark reached out his hand toward her. Helena would've politely declined, having been trained not to make contact with anyone outside the family. Helly was going to be careless and touchy. Helly accepted the handshake and gave Mark the truest smile she ever remembers having. Only vaguely did either of them feel the tingles that ignited when they touched.

Chapter Text

Helena hadn't ever put any thought into what to wear when she got dressed. Jame didn't provide what most people would consider comfortable clothing. The closets consisted of floor length gowns, modest cocktail dresses, a few business-like suits, and exactly 4 matching sweat sets that had to be used for both the gym and her pajamas. Typically, her morning routine including getting out of bed, washing her face, brushing her teeth and hair, and putting on whichever outfit her father had selected for her. The 3am version of her, the one choosing to run away, simply left the house in the pajamas she had worn to bed. A baby blue sweat suit with her set of white running shoes.

Helly, the one standing with her hand in Mark's, was now very aware of what she was wearing. To her, it was considered intimate clothing. Something no one else needed to see. Maybe that was why her face felt flush, and her hands were ever so slightly sweaty. The room was almost uncomfortably empty, but neither of them bothered to move that much. The shake lasted longer than any handshake she had ever had. A good nine seconds, if she wasn't mistaken.

"I handed out the syllabus at the start, let me get you one Helly" Mark took a few seconds to shuffle the papers in his hands around before pulling one out of the pile. He reached the piece of paper out towards her, and Helena took it from him. "Did you want to set up a meeting?"

Helena's eyes went slightly wide, "Meeting? For what?"

"I swear to god admissions doesn't explain anything- would you mind coming back to my office for a few minutes?" Helena nodded her head and almost instantly Mark's hand found her shoulder blade and started guiding her up and out of the lecture hall. His hand was hovering, barely grazing her shoulder, but it was still more intimate than Helena had ever been with another person. Mark quietly ushered her through the hallways and unlocked a door labeled M. Scout. 

Helena stopped at the doorway and observed the scene before her. The office was larger than someone may expect for a standard professor. Mark had bookshelves stuffed with various faded books with odd names, but there were a few fictional titles she recognized. There were multiple maps of the world scattered across his walls, each slightly different from the one next to it. The whole space is cluttered, except the desk. Shelves are lined with trinkets and collectables, and Helena wonders how much more they could hold before snapping. Mark has already sat down and started typing away on his computer. Walking into the space, she feels the shift. Somehow, Mark is different here. But Helena couldn't say how. His desk is pristine. Old dark oak delicately carved, two pen holders each with matching (and expensive) pens. Three framed photos sit perfectly staggered behind his computer. It's almost like a display for whoever sits on her side of the desk to see, but completely out of sight for Mark. The first is with the men Helena saw him with earlier. One older who was teaching art outside, one with glasses who had been yelling at Mark earlier. The next photo is of a red-haired man, a woman who looks similar to Mark, and a small baby. The last is of Mark and a woman, both in matching wedding bands, and a photo of a sonogram. The last one almost hurts Helena to look at, though she isn't sure why.

Mark makes a sound of triumph which brings her attention back to him. Helena brought her attention back to the man in front of her and made a note at the lack of wedding ring.

"Helly Riggs, junior transfer from UPenn. Majoring in History and just finished a semester abroad in Norway. Academic advisory Mark Scout. Let's see, looks like you're also in my History 392 American history from 1877 to present and Professor George's History 356 Riots and Revolutions. A lighter load than your previous semesters, but you're still full time." Mark finally met her eyes and it occurred to Helena that this was all supposed to mean something to her.

Helena Eagan was smart. Her father had talked to her about how he had selected her DNA meticulously to ensure she was a child worthy to step into CEO when the time was right. He usually made these points during her correctional sessions. Reminding her how horrible she was failing despite being perfectly set up for success from literal conception. Helena was fearful of being wrong, Helena was terrified of appearing as anything less than pristine. But Helly, she decided, was going to take some risks. Helly was going to live her own damn life.

"Could I get a printed version of that? I would like to find my classes before I end up lost and late again." Mark nodded and a couple seconds later his printer spit out the piece of paper. College. Helena Eagan attending college. Jame would have a field day. Mark picked up one of the expensive looking pens and in a messy, half cursive kind of writing, put down a phone number.

"I know it's a much smaller campus than UPenn but, if you ever get lost or need any help just give me a call" Mark smiled at her. He went over approximately what each course would cover, and Helena noted that Mondays and Wednesdays she only had WWI propaganda. The other two were both Tuesdays and Thursdays. 

Helena shook his hand one last time (this time she initiated the contact), praised thanks for all his help, and left. Originally, her half-baked plan had been to get as far from kier as possible. Somewhere with a warm ocean and sandy beach to hide. She was cautious as she exited the building, making sure to watch out for any security personal. Her stomach rumbled, reminding her of the abandoned plans of food. She needed somewhere to stay and something to eat. A short walk later and Helena was staring at the parking lot. The car she had driven off in this morning was still there, no doubt a trap. They'd wait to she had gone off and was alone somewhere, to make sure there wasn't a scene. Gooseflesh worked its way up her arms as the thought of correctional for something this big creeped into her mind. She got into the driver's seat, punching an address into the navigator. Jame shouldn't have made her nearly so smart. 

It only took 15 minutes to get to the nearest car dealership. Helena picked up the bag she had left under the seat and inspected each item carefully. Nothing looked amiss, and more likely than not the tracker was somewhere in the car itself. As soon as she stepped out, a sales rep was already cornering her on her car needs.

"i'd like to trade this one in-" Was all Helena got out, and off they went, the rep offering different deals. Lumon Electric was coveted and expensive. She had her pick of the lot, and she selected a used car. "I'm headed out west, and I need something that'll get me there without needing to be charged." The deal included picking a car half the worth of her original, but they didn't ask questions or ask to see an ID. Helena took the new car and went to another dealership, trading it in for an even worse car, just to be safe. By the end she had a car fit for a college student, something that wouldn't stand out on campus. As hungry as she was, housing had to come next. Helena wasn't sure how much longer she had before the credit card in her father's wallet got turned off. She went back in the neighborhood of the first dealership and found an atm, withdrawing the max amount it would allow. That money combined with the previous cash stack she had left Helena with nearly 40,000. The card found its way into a dumpster.

New car and a wad of cash in hand, Helly decided it was time for lunch. The new (to her) car didn't have a gps and she was scared to turn on her phone. So, she headed back towards campus scanning the streets for anything appetizing. There were restaurants with cuisine she had never tried, places she had never even heard of. She was still getting used to actually driving, praise Kier she hadn't gotten into an accident yet. A small cafe named The Loading Dock seemed safe enough. Helena parked the car and put what she hoped was enough cash to cover a meal and tip into her purse. The rest went into the bag of belongings. It was finally starting to warm up for the day, and the breeze was starting to die. She still needed somewhere to sleep, more clothes to wear, and hopefully some groceries.

The scent of coffee hit her the moment she walked through the door. It was busy inside- students crammed into tables all typing into computers or shoveling food into their mouths. Green accents were scattered around the brown walls and jazz was pumping in through speakers. The menu was small, but everything sounded amazing, and the smell of brown sugar and bread hung heavy in the air. Helena waited patiently in line, combing over her options. She hadn't ever had most of the items served. Cake was allowed three times a year. Once for her own birthday, once for her father's birthday, and once for Kier's birthday. Other than that, sweets weren't authorized for her diet. The various pastries all looked decadent in their display case, and she was tempted to just get one of each.

"Hi, can I get one americano and one of those giant cinnamon rolls?" The cashier nodded and started to enter the order into a tablet. She hadn't had either before, but they both sounded good. Helena was reaching into her small purse to find some of the cash when a hand lightly grazed the small of her back. 

"Let's make that two americanos, two of your pressed paninis, the lady's cinnamon roll, and why not throw in an orange cranberry scone, too" She turned to find Mark at her side, his card already stuffed into the reader before she had really comprehended what had happened. "Looks like you found my favorite coffee spot" He tossed her a grin, one that made her legs start to shake ever so slightly. She made a note to shove a couple bills into his wallet and placed the 20 in her hand into the tip jar.

"You really didn't need to pay for my lunch." Mark had shuffled them from the cash register over to one of the tables, a small metal number sign in hand. "Unfortunately, a cinnamon roll doesn't constitute as lunch, Helly." 

"One could argue that lunch is simply any food eaten mid-day"

"And you've been up since what, six? it's only 11. Meaning I would argue we aren't mid-day, assuming you go to bed any time after 4pm and are up for more than 10 hours. So, it still isn't lunch." She wasn't going to explain that she had actually been up since well before six, considering it would probably raise more questions than it would solve. They were both laughing at pointless banter, and everything felt at ease. Helena would hate being around so many people at once. Helly basked in not being the center of attention.

"So, do you make a habit of buying your students lunch?" He smiled at her, eyes wide. Helena clocked the lack of wedding ring once more, not being able to help looking for it.

"No, I just saw you coming in. I actually wanted to ask you about something" Before Helena could give him permission, a worker arrived with their order. Two steamy americanos were placed in front of each of them. The paninis were the size of a dinner plate, both stuffed full of various meats, cheese, and vegetables oozing with sauce. Her cinnamon roll and Mark's scone were both warmed and buttered- and if she didn't start eating right now, she may just eat Mark instead. 

In Jame's house, everything was eaten with silverware. Helena had never once considered eating anything with her hands, ever. And then Mark simply picked up half the sandwich and started to eat. If Mark would eat with his hands, Helly would too. The pair made quick work of the paninis before taking time to speak again. Helly was scrubbing the grease from her fingers with a napkin when Mark started again.

"They have the best scones here" He was breaking small chunks off the orange glazed dessert and popping them one by one into his mouth,

"I've never had a scone" Helena laughed it off, but Mark stopped and stared at her with wide eyes. He broke off another chunk, slightly larger than the ones he had been eating. His finders were long and slender, as they reached out towards her. 

"they're to die for, you must try it"

"You're too kind, you already paid for my meal. Thank you, by the way."

"No, no. You're not welcome. Not unless you take a bite." His hand was directly in front of her, presenting the scone.

"Only if you take a bite of my cinnamon roll" Helena countered, tearing off a chunk of her roll. 

"Miss Riggs, you've got yourself a deal." They traded bites, both using their free hand to take the others bite, both savoring the new flavors. The scone started to melt in her mouth, orange zest coating her taste buds, followed by the tart cranberry. It was buttery and flakey, and Helena was internal cursing out her father for denying scones. A moan escaped her mouth before she could stop it, and Mark's face scrunched with amusement, laughing softly at her.

"So, I was looking over your transcripts and it looks like admissions made a mistake. They seem to think you unenrolled last Thursday. I went ahead and corrected that, and you can still use the scholarship, but apparently, they gave away your dorm to someone off the waitlist. Didn't you move in already?" fuck. Now she was using someone else's scholarship. At least other Helly shouldn't show up anytime soon.

"No... I had some delays getting here and I just arrived this morning. I can always find housing off campus, right?" The cafe suddenly felt stiff and stuffy. Helena had planned on living off campus, but she hadn't planned on Mark finding out anything out of the ordinary. His hand brushed her wrist for just a second, and a sympathetic look painted his face.

"Most of the housing for the semester is going to have already been rented out. Look, I sometimes house our history exchange students in my spare room. Some of them prefer not to be in the dorms. We don't have any this semester, and the room just sits empty. If you need a place to go, you're welcome to it. Just for the semester, then we'll make sure you get a dorm for spring. Your scholarship covers it and all" If it had been anyone else, Helena would've run. She should be running. It isn't right to take advantage of Mark, not after everything he's done for her. She isn't even an official student. 

"Helly, you don't have to. I understand that we just met and you're new to town. Check in with the campus admissions office, they may have another empty space. Oh, and make sure to pick up your ID too. Just in case-" Mark took the receipt from their order and wrote an address on it "-here. If you don't show up, I won't take it personally. I'll be glad you were able to find somewhere. Either way, I'll see you in class tomorrow." He shoved the receipt into her hand, took the last swig of coffee, and walked out the door.