Standard disclaimers apply. I don't own any of these characters, I'm only borrowing them. I'm making no profit from this so please don't sue me.
This story is ADULT in nature for graphic violence including rape. It's
a direct sequel to my previous postings Primary Causes and Secondary
Hurts and completes the trilogy. You really have to read those first
or this won't make any sense
Page 1 of 13
Richie parked his bike and made his way slowly up to his apartment
watched by one very relieved ancient immortal. It had taken Methos
some time to find Mac's young protigi after he left so abruptly and
he'd started to get worried. Once he'd spotted him he'd spent several
hours following him whilst staying just out of sensing range. He knew
that, although the horrific injuries to Richie's body had healed, he
was still a little weaker than usual. If Richie had to fight now he'd
be unlikely to survive and that would devastate Duncan. For whatever
reasons that he hadn't even admitted to himself yet, Methos couldn't
allow that to happen.
Studying Richie carefully as he entered the building Methos was
reassured by what he saw. He'd half expected the younger immortal to
go out and get drunk, or at least to bring a large quantity of alcohol
home with him. Certainly considering the number of bars he'd visited
in the last few hours it'd been a definite possibility, but as far as
he could see apart from looking unusually tired Richie hadn't done
anything that stupid. Judging that the young immortal was no more
vulnerable in the game than he normally was, Methos decided to suspend
his surveillance. As he turned to go he spotted a very relieved
looking young man in the shadows on the opposite side of the street.
Recognizing him as one of Joe's watchers he smiled to himself and kept
out of sight. The guy must have lost Richie earlier in the evening and
he'd come back here in the hopes that he would return to his
apartment. Leaving the watcher to his job Methos walked quickly in the
direction of Joe's bar. There were too many questions in his mind
about the events of the last few days and he hoped that as MacLeod's
watcher Joe might be able to help him find some answers.
====================
The last customers had finished off their drinks and were just
leaving. It had been a busy night and takings were good. Joe moved
slowly out from behind the bar to collect the last of the glasses.
Placing them on the bar he heard the door open again.
"We're closed," he said, without looking round and trying hard to keep
the annoyance he felt out of his voice.
"Is that any way to greet an old friend?" came an amused tenor voice.
"Adam!" A broad smile lit up Joe's face as he turned to greet his
visitor. "Good to see you!"
"Hi Joe, Sorry it's taken so long." Methos returned the smile and took
the older looking man into his arms for a brief hug. "I was on my way
over to see you when I got a bit held up."
"I know" Joe replied. "Mac told me you were around. I actually didn't
expect to see you so soon. How's Richie?"
"He's fine Joe, at least physically..." Methos began.
"Of course he is" Joe interrupted. "He's immortal...and that wasn't
what I meant."
"I know, Joe." Methos hesitated, then continued in a quieter tone.
"That's sort of the reason I'm here."
"Might've known" Joe grumbled. Methos tried to interrupt but Joe held
up a hand to stop him. "Its OK, we both know the score."
"Joe, it's not like that...well not really. I need your help" Methos
looked up and met Joe's steady gaze. "Mac and Richie need our help."
"I guess I'll see what I can do then" Joe replied. "You help me clean
this place up and then we'll talk."
"It's a deal" Methos smiled "I'll lock up, you clean the glasses."
With the familiarity of many similar nights shared the two men set
about closing the bar.
====================
Amanda returned to dojo loft in better spirits than she'd been for
days. She'd spent a busy afternoon shopping and was carrying numerous
bags. She loaded her purchases and provisions onto the elevator and
hit the button for the loft.
Duncan was standing by the window when he felt the presence of another
immortal. Checking to see that his katana was within easy reach he
looked across the loft to check who was arriving. Seeing Amanda he
relaxed again and went back to his silent contemplation.
Amanda raised the gate and stepped out. She was surprised to find
Duncan alone and apparently lost in thought. In fact his whole
demeanour reminded her of a recent, similar occasion. For a few
seconds she tried to recall the circumstances. Then suddenly the
memory hit her with blinding clarity. It had been the anniversary of
Tessa's death. The day Ulick had taken her and Richie. She froze, as
the unpleasant events of that day surfaced in her mind's eye. Was it
only a couple of days ago? It seemed like an age had passed since
then. She'd been lucky, well relatively so, at least compared to
Richie. No, that wasn't quite true. She'd been saved from the worst
treatment *because* of Richie. Forcing the memories away she took a
deep breath and started to unload the elevator.
"Duncan" she called to him quietly. "Hey, I could use a little help
here."
"What..." he responded in a distracted voice.
"Bags, Mac. Food" she watched him as she answered. "They need carrying
and putting away."
"Oh, yes of course." He turned from the window and walked towards her
eyeing the pile of bags suspiciously. "What are all these things? Do I
have any credit left?"
"Mainly food and beer. I thought you were catering for a crowd." She
kept her voice carefully neutral.
"So did I." Duncan didn't answer the unspoken question and Amanda
didn't push. He looked over the pile of bags again "Is this all food?"
"Well, no" she smiled picking out a bag from an expensive lingerie
store. "There's a little something here for you."
"For me?" he asked.
"Well, for me to wear for you." She laughed. "Now let's get this food
stowed and then we'll see if you like it."
"And if I don't?"
"Well then we can always take it back and you can choose something
that you do." She picked up two of the food bags and headed for the
kitchen. "After all, it was bought on your card" she added.
"Amanda..." Duncan grabbed another couple of bags and followed her.
"What am I going to do with you?"
"I think we'd better wait until we've put these things away" she
added. "Then you can do whatever you want with me."
Duncan grabbed her by the waist and pulled her in for a long kiss. As
they broke apart and returned to unpacking the food supplies Amanda
smiled to herself. She'd successfully broken Duncan out of his
brooding. Now all she had to do was get him distracted enough to tell
her what had happened in her absence.
====================
Some time later Joe and Methos were sat in Joe's office. Joe was
sipping at a large coffee whilst Methos had his customary beer in
hand.
"Now Adam. What gives?" Joe asked. "What 's been happening?"
Methos settled into a more comfortable sprawl and began telling Joe
the events of the last few days, whilst Joe listened intently. Much of
the story, at least the events leading up to Duncan taking Ulick's
quickening, he already knew. He was his watcher after all. What he
didn't know was how the aftershocks were affecting the Highlander and
his student.
Methos finished speaking and Joe waited quietly. When the young
looking man seemed reluctant to continue Joe decided it was time for a
prompt.
"Adam?" Methos looked up and Joe continued "What exactly do you want
my help with?"
"Richie's hurting Joe" he explained "and MacLeod is so busy brooding
and trying to protect him that he can't see how much Richie needs to
know the truth."
"Damn, stubborn boyscout" Joe cursed quietly. "The last thing Richie
needs now is a major Scottish guilt trip."
"Exactly my point" Methos grinned.
"OK, what can we do?" Joe asked.
"MacLeod told me a little about his previous meetings with Ulick but
I'm sure there's more. When they were fighting Ulick mentioned an
encounter with Connor that Mac obviously knew nothing about." Methos
looked directly at Joe as he continued. "I need to know whatever the
Watchers know of those meetings." Methos took a deep breath and made
the most difficult request "I need to find Connor and get him here."
"You're not asking much are you?" Joe replied. "The Watchers aren't
there to help one immortal find another."
"You know I'm not after Connor's head." Methos sounded worried. "All I
know is that if we don't help them MacLeod is going to drive Richie
away again, and this time he may not have the will to survive. He
doesn't deserve that, and neither does MacLeod."
"OK, OK, you know I'll help. I always do!" Joe sounded really tired.
"Great Joe. Now how do we go about this?"
Joe smiled as he replied "Connor's watcher is a friend and I'm sure she
can help me find the chronicles we need. It's the middle of the night
in New York now but I'll call and ask her first thing tomorrow. I've
already found all the references to Ulick in Mac's chronicles." At
Methos' surprised glance he continued "Know thine enemy! I started
researching as soon as I knew who'd taken Richie and Amanda!"
"Thanks Joe" Methos said gratefully. The more he saw the grey haired
Watcher in action the more he understood why he'd been assigned an
immortal the Watchers considered to be so important. "That only leaves
the problem of getting Connor here."
"Why is that so important?" Joe asked curiously.
"Richie's angry because he thinks MacLeod is being over protective and
not letting him fight what he considers to be his battles" Methos
explained. "From what Mac mentioned, he feels the same about Connor.
If I can get him here then perhaps Connor and Mac can resolve this
issue and hopefully both Mac and Richie will be able to see their own
differences from each other's perspective. It may be the only way. The
problem will be finding Connor and convincing him to come."
"That may be easier than you think" Joe replied. "Connor has list of
heads he is hunting and Ulick is high on it. We just need to let him
know that Ulick has been sighted in Seacouver and he'll come, if only
because Mac is here."
"OK then, now all we have to decide is how to let him know." Methos
wondered aloud "Perhaps an anonymous phone call?"
"No need" Joe was laughing now. "His watcher is a friend of Connor's
and is quite capable of passing the information without being too
obvious."
"Another Watcher breaking the oath?" Methos joined in the laughing
"What is it about these Highlanders?"
"Actually it's not like that" Joe explained. "She was a friend of
Connor's before she became his watcher. In fact, that was why she was
recruited."
"Ah, we are nothing if not a sneaky lot" Methos replied. "I'll leave
it in your capable hands then. Now I really need to get some sleep."
"You going back to the loft?" Joe asked.
"No, I'd better find a hotel room...I think Amanda might be trying to
break Duncan out of his brood" Methos said in a wistful tone. "I don't
want to interrupt anything..."
Joe laughed again "I expect you're right. Come on Adam. Let's go. We
can't do any more tonight. You can have my spare room."
"Thanks Joe" Methos helped Joe to stand up and they left the bar together.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
2/13
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Not wanting to wake Duncan, Amanda eased out of the bed as quietly as
possible and walked into the kitchen. It was very late, or more like
early morning. They'd spent a very enjoyable and enthusiastic couple
of hours together before Duncan had finally slipped into an exhausted
sleep.
There'd been one awkward moment. Amanda had been kneeling in front of
a gloriously naked Duncan when she'd suddenly been reminded of her
brutal treatment at the hands of Ulick. OK, so she didn't have
handcuffs on her wrists and ankles and she wasn't kneeling on a cold
stone floor, but the events were still fairly recent and this brought
them to the forefront of her mind.
Duncan had felt her tense up and instantly dropped to his knees beside
her. He'd reached out and pulled her shivering body into his strong
arms and held her until the tremors ceased. He hadn't asked what was
wrong. He hadn't needed to. He'd seen many victims of abuse in his
time and knew the type of emotional injuries that went with physical
ones.
For her part Amanda had been glad he was there. When she'd calmed down
enough they'd carefully resumed what had been interrupted. With
Duncan's gentle patience and support she'd gotten past the fears and
pushed away the ghosts. She truly believed that she was over her
encounter with Ulick, at least over what he'd done to her. It wasn't
the first time she'd been abused; nor even the second or third. Being
immortal had never protected her from the indignities inflicted on
females in certain times and places. What did remain was the guilt.
She kept thinking of Richie begging for Ulick's abusive attentions
purely to protect her. Why had he done that? What had she done to
deserve that? Those images of Richie would stay with her for a long
time to come.
As for Richie, now that was a different matter. Despite his bravado
and what he'd told her in their prison he'd suffered serious physical
injuries and was still suffering the emotional after effects. Duncan
hadn't told her exactly what had happened between the two of them, but
he'd admitted that they'd argued about Duncan's overprotectiveness and
that Richie had stormed off. He also mentioned that Methos had
disappeared at the same time to places unknown. Amanda had said no
more but felt relieved. She was sure that Methos had followed Richie
and would keep watch over the younger immortal.
Reaching the kitchen she looked again at the time and made a decision.
Picking up the phone she dialled a number she'd learnt well of late,
praying that the owner would still be awake.
====================
Joe handed Methos a beer and sat down in the chair opposite. Although
it was late neither man was quite ready to sleep yet. Their discussion
covered many topics, all of them trivial. Both of them were aware that
they were avoiding the main issue. Eventually they ran out of neutral
subjects and a slightly uneasy silence settled in the room. Joe was
just thinking of heading for his bed when the ringing of the phone
broke the silence.
"Whoever that is it'd better be important" he grumbled to himself as
he reached for the receiver. "Dawson" he answered a little abruptly.
"Joe, it's Amanda" she sounded a little hesitant. "I didn't wake you
did I?"
"No Amanda, I've only just got home" he responded looking at Methos,
who'd looked up in surprise when Joe said her name. "What can I do for
you?"
"Well...I don't know how to ask this...or even if I should...but" she
took a deep breath that Joe could hear clearly at the other end of the
line. "Do you know where Richie is?"
Joe almost laughed. "Relax Amanda, he's safe" he told her. "He went
back to his apartment late last night and I've got a watcher on him
twenty four hours a day now". He glanced at Methos who looked
startled. Full time watching required watchers to operate in teams.
This wasn't usually done unless it was believed that the immortal
concerned was about to issue or receive a challenge. Joe realised that
the oldest immortal was aware of this and he'd have to explain later.
"Thank you Joe." Even over the phone line Joe could hear the relief in
Amanda's voice. She waited another couple of seconds then spoke again.
"I don't suppose..."
"He's here" Joe guessed what she was trying to ask. He grinned at the
oldest immortal as he continued "He was the one who followed Richie
until he went back to his apartment and his watcher caught up with
him. Do you want to speak to him?"
"No, no thanks Joe...I just needed to know."
"Glad to be of service" Joe quoted in an appropriate sing song voice.
"Anything else I can do for you tonight?"
"No...wait yes" she answered with a smile in her voice. "You can thank
our aged friend for taking care of Richie and tell him I'll look after
MacLeod."
"Consider it done"
"And Joe"
"Yeah"
"Tell him to watch over you too" she replied. "Goodnight"
"Goodnight Amanda. Sleep well" Joe replaced the receiver and turned
back to Methos.
"Just checking up on me was she?" Methos asked lightly. "And why the
full time watch on Richie?"
"Yeah, she was. She asked me to thank you for taking care of Richie"
Joe replied before continuing carefully. "He's is hurting, and he's
vulnerable. That makes him an easy target, at least at the moment."
"That's not all is it Joe?" Methos prompted.
"Damn it, if he's challenged I want to know" Joe replied sharply. "I
want to be able to warn Mac or you. He doesn't deserve to lose his
head because a slime bag like Ulick used him as a toy!"
"That's what I thought" Methos smiled gently. "You are too good to us
all"
"I need to be" Joe laughed "look at all the trouble you get me into.
Oh yeah, Amanda said to tell you she'll take care of Mac."
"I bet she will". Joe looked at Methos in surprise. The emotion in his
voice at that simple phrase was obvious. Joe couldn't be certain but
he thought he detected a trace of jealousy. Methos jealous of Amanda?
That merited further investigation, but not now.
"She also told me to tell you to take care of me" Joe stated.
Methos laughed "Well I guess I'd better do just that. It's time we got
some sleep" he replied standing up and holding out his hand to the
mortal. "Glad to be of service? I didn't know you were a Douglas Adams
fan."
Joe took the offered hand and pulled himself to his feet. "Why not?
I'm not getting you down at all am I?" Laughing aloud now the two men
picked up their glasses and walked up the stairs, the gentle bickering
continuing until they entered their separate rooms.
====================
Amanda put the phone back in its cradle and walked back to the bed. As
she sat on the edge a sleepy voice asked, "Who were you talking to?"
"Joe" she replied.
"Joe?" Duncan sounded more awake now. "What did he say?"
"Richie is safe. He returned to his apartment earlier this evening"
she told him. "And Methos is with Joe."
"Good, I was worried" he replied.
"I know" she answered. "Now go back to sleep, tomorrow is going to be
a long day."
"Only if I can hold you." He held out his arms to her.
Smiling she slipped under the cover and into his embrace. "Always,
love. Always."
====================
Amanda woke suddenly, screams still ringing in her ears. It was
several seconds before she recognised the familiar interior of the
loft. She took several deep breaths to steady herself and calm her
pounding heart.
Slowly she got her racing thoughts under control and started sorting
through the confused memories of the visions she'd experienced.
Predictably she'd been dreaming of that cellar, watching, bound
helplessly, as Richie begged for and then received Ulick's brutal
assault. His *first* assault she remembered, unashamedly relieved that
she hadn't been witness to the later events. Looking around the loft
she wondered what had woken her.
A moan from the opposite side of the bed drew her attention to the
most probable cause. Duncan lay on his side, facing away from her,
where he must have rolled in his sleep. Even in the semidarkness of
the loft she could see the tension in his shoulders and back. A second
louder moan and a whispered syllable that might've been "no" confirmed
her suspicions. Whatever nightmare scenario Duncan was in, he was
clearly not enjoying it. She slowly reached across the bed and touched
his right shoulder.
//The bare brick walls and pipes were familiar to Duncan now, as was
the bloodied figure hanging from the shiny metal handcuffs. He looked
down at his hands, expecting to see the knife, but instead found a
very familiar belt. Running the blood stained leather through his
fingers he reached the buckle and examined it. It was almost
unrecognisable caked in dried blood, but to Duncan it was
unmistakable. He and Tessa had given Richie this belt as a nineteenth
birthday present. Since Tessa's death Richie had worn it practically
everyday, so much so that the leather strap had already needed
replacing once.
"Why are you doing this?" Richie's voice was calm, almost too calm.
Duncan tried to answer, but no words passed his lips.
"Mac" Richie spoke again. "What have I done?"
Still finding no way to answer Richie's questions, Duncan felt his
hands release the buckle and slide back along the leather strap.
Slowly and deliberately his right arm raised and prepared to bring the
belt down across the brutalised back.
"Why Mac? Why is this happening?" Richie's voice seemed to be coming
from far away but the pleading tone was all Duncan could hear.
Something inside screamed at Duncan. He tried to fight back,
struggling to stop the events but the nightmare scene continued
unabated.
"Stop it Mac! Why don't you stop this?" The desperation and panic in
Richie's voice brought tears to Duncan's eyes, but nothing he felt
seemed to stop his body moving.
"You can stop this, Mac. You *could've* stopped it!"
"No" Duncan's mind shouted but his body ignored it. Duncan felt his
arm move, starting to bring the strap down towards his student's back.
"No" his mind shouted again. The buckle flashed in the light as it
moved. Suddenly something touched his right shoulder...//
"No!" Duncan bolted upright in bed knocking Amanda's arm off his
shoulder as he did so. Amanda watched as, in an almost identical
reaction to her own, he grabbed a few deep breaths forcing his mind to
focus on the familiar surroundings.
"It's OK, Duncan", she whispered as she reached out and gently placed
her hand back on his shoulder. "It's over, Richie's safe."
"It should never have happened in the first place". Duncan stared at
his hands as he continued "For all the good I was I might as well have
beaten him myself."
Amanda winced, her own previous nightmare forgotten. In that one
sentence Duncan had given her a very good idea of what he had seen.
Knowing her Highland warrior well and noticing how he was watching his
hands clench and unclench she guessed that he'd been dreaming those
same hands had inflicted the injuries themselves. Duncan always took
everything so personally and this was becoming a major brood.
"Duncan". Getting no response she tried again. "Duncan, look at me"
Several seconds passed but just before she spoke again Duncan turned
slowly and met Amanda's eyes. What she saw broke her heart. He really
did blame himself. This was going to need careful handling.
"It wasn't your fault." She knew that remark sounded tired, but it was
the truth. Duncan made no comment so she pushed a little more. "You're
not responsible for Ulick's actions."
"That's not true" he replied.
"Of course it's true" she said patiently. "How could it be your
fault?"
"I should've sensed him...I should've seen him...I should've *stopped*
him" Duncan looked back down at his hands mumbling so quietly that
Amanda had to strain to hear "If only I hadn't been so lost in
memories...I might've..."
Amanda knew that was the real problem. Duncan had missed their
abduction whilst brooding over Tessa's death and he felt that their
suffering was the direct result of his distraction. She knew that
nothing she could say would remove that guilt so she concentrated on
the easier target.
"Even if you had sensed him Ulick would've simply waited until you
weren't here. He'd been using this pattern in his hunting for years.
Nothing you could've done would've stopped it happening..."
"I could've stopped it. I could've stopped it before it began" Duncan
interrupted her. "I was beating him, I should've had his head but
Connor let him go. See what happened. See what he let happen..."
Amanda stayed quiet letting Duncan release some of his pent up
emotions. She wondered what had happened when Connor and Duncan had
met Ulick. Why had Connor not finished it then? What possible reason
could he have had for letting Ulick go? This was something she needed
to know, but not now. Gradually she let herself return to listening to
Duncan's tirade of guilt and anger.
"...Richie is my friend and my student. He deserved better from me
than this. What good are 400 years experience if you don't use them? I
should've been able to protect him"
"No Duncan, I was the one with him." Amanda spoke quietly but Duncan
didn't miss the pain in her voice. "I have over 1100 years
*experience* and I couldn't protect him...I let him down. Damn it,
he's so young, yet he was the one who *tried* to protect *me*."
Her voice broke and Duncan looked at her seeing the tears in her eyes.
Suddenly his own pain seemed insignificant. He hadn't had to watch as
that monster raped Richie in his place. If he thought he felt guilty
how bad must Amanda be feeling? He reached out and pulled her slowly
into his arms holding her as she cried, unsurprised to find his own
tears slipping down his face.
"He never deserved that, Duncan" she mumbled into his chest. "He's
hurting. We have to help him."
"I know," he whispered back. "I know. Tomorrow, we'll find him. We
won't let him down again."
Gently Duncan laid back down on the bed taking Amanda with him and
holding her tightly in his arms.
"Tomorrow, we'll find Richie" Amanda whispered. "Tonight..."
"Tonight, we just need each other" Duncan finished for her, giving her
a gentle squeeze.
Amanda settled more comfortably, throwing one arm and leg across
Duncan's muscular body and head nestling her head on his broad
shoulder. Together in the darkness the Scottish warrior and the
immortal thief held each other. Neither expected to sleep again, but
both were glad of the other's support through the long hours of the
night.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
3/13
========================================================================
Methos woke up from a dream. For a few moments he lay with his eyes
closed trying to sort out where he was and for that matter who he was.
After 5000 years he'd been a lot of different people and sometimes it
was hard to recall which one was the appropriate one for his current
situation. Working from an instinct he'd developed over the millennia
he remained still, feigning sleep, until the events of the previous
few days were brought to the front of his mind.
Ah yes, now he remembered. Richie and Amanda had been kidnapped Duncan
had taken Ulick's head and he was in Joe's spare room. That meant he
must be Adam Pierson. No, he corrected himself. Since the Scottish
boyscout had let his secret out these people knew who he really was.
OK, so it was Adam Pierson aka Methos. Having completed his mental
preparation for the day he opened his eyes, climbed out of bed and
went in search of Joe.
====================
Feeling much better after a decent night's sleep Methos walked into
the kitchen. Joe was already there, breakfast preparations spread
around him, talking to someone on his cell phone. He acknowledged
Methos' entrance with a brief smile before returning to the
conversation.
"What do you mean you won't tell him?" Joe sounded a bit annoyed.
Methos couldn't hear the reply so he poured himself a coffee and
waited whilst Joe finished his call.
"He's where? How did he know?" The hint of anger in Joe's voice was
replaced by something closer to amusement. "Damn, might've known. He's
just as much trouble as his clansman." Methos didn't miss that
reference. Correctly guessing that Joe was talking to Connor's watcher
he settled down to wait for an explanation.
"Well, thanks for all your help. Are you following him over?...Pity.
it's been a while. I'll let you know what happens. Yeah, you too, bye"
Joe finished off the call closing the handset and looked at Methos.
"Connor's Watcher?" the immortal asked.
"Yeah, she's going to fax the relevant parts of Connor's chronicle
over as soon as possible." Joe replied.
"Good, the sooner we know what happened the better. Is she going to
tell Connor?" Methos asked.
Joe laughed "She doesn't need to. Connor really has been searching for
Ulick. I'm not sure how he found out Ulick was headed for Seacouver
but Connor is on the plane now. He should be here before lunch time."
"I don't know how either, but it makes this a little easier" Methos'
amusement faded slightly as he continued "Have you heard anything from
Richie's watcher?"
"Nothing important" Joe replied. "Apparently he hasn't left his
apartment since last night, although given the number of times there
was movement seen and how often the lights went on he probably didn't
get much sleep."
"Guess that was to be expected. Perhaps I'll go round a bit later and
see how he is" Methos mused. Changing the subject he asked "Now how
about some breakfast? A man could starve waiting for food here."
Joe couldn't help but laugh again and the two friends sat in
companionable silence as they ate, before getting ready to face the
day.
====================
Amanda stood outside Richie's apartment and looked up at the still
drawn blinds. She knew Richie wasn't a morning person like Duncan, but
she'd expected him to be awake by now.
Duncan had risen just after dawn, Amanda not long after. Neither one
of them had managed any more sleep after dreams disturbed their night.
She'd eventually convinced Duncan to go for a run in the hopes that he
might burn off some of his frustration. He wasn't going to be able to
settle things with Richie if he was emotionally unstable. Once he'd
left she had slipped out and made her way across town.
Amanda knew what she needed to do. Although she'd accepted that
nothing she could've done would've prevented Ulick kidnapping them,
she still felt guilty. In trying to protect her Richie had set himself
up as the main target and hence endured the worst treatment. If he'd
stayed quiet she was certain Ulick's attentions would've been more
fairly distributed. Indeed, if she hadn't escaped and left Richie
behind, perhaps Ulick wouldn't have gone to such extremes. Telling
herself that 'what ifs' and 'if onlys' were a waste of time she
collected her thoughts and concentrated on the task at hand.
Quickly dealing with the exterior lock she slipped through the door
into Richie's apartment block. As she did so she noticed a dark haired
man watching her from a car across the road and hoped that it was just
Richie's watcher. Although she really didn't like the thought that
someone was recording her every move it was nice to know that they'd
been keeping an eye on Richie.
By the time she reached the door of his apartment she knew he was
there. She could feel his buzz and no doubt he could feel hers. She
knocked several times, but Richie made no attempt to answer. Deciding
that she wasn't going to be stopped by a minor hindrance like a door
she quickly picked the lock and let herself in.
"Amanda, I might've known" Richie commented. He was sitting in one of
the few clear spaces on the floor leaning against the sofa. "Did you
bring the boyscout with you?"
"No, I sent him out for a run" she replied carefully. She was worried.
Richie hadn't even bothered to get up and his Rapier was nowhere in
sight. "I wanted to see you."
"Just checking the kid hasn't got himself killed yet are you?" Richie
asked bitterly. "It's only a matter of time you know."
"No" she replied softly, choosing her words carefully as she eased
down to sit on the floor beside him. "I came to see how my brave
friend, who went through hell for me is feeling."
"I'm fine" He replied sarcastically lifting his shirt and turning his
back towards her. "Look, not even a scratch."
Amanda didn't dignify the comment with a reply. She simply waited
until Richie had settled back against the sofa then gently touched his
arm. Richie jumped at the contact but didn't pull away. For a long
time they sat there in silence before Richie could stand it no more.
"What do you want, Amanda?"
"I just want to talk to you, Richie"
"Why?" he asked watching her suspiciously. "Why do you all suddenly
want to talk to me?" Again Amanda chose silence as the appropriate
response. Finally Richie spoke "OK, you're here. I'm listening. Talk!"
Amanda took a deep breath and tried to relax. This wasn't going to be
easy. Taking heart from the fact that she'd at least got this far she
started by asking quietly "Why did you do it, Richie? Why did you try
to protect me?"
Richie looked at her. She was nothing if not direct in her approach.
He'd expected some nice platitudes or general conversation first, but
this was straight to the crux of the matter.
"I don't know" he answered honestly. "It just seemed like the right
thing to do at the time. It's what Mac would've done."
"Thank you" she replied simply. "I do appreciate it. But you don't
have to keep trying to prove yourself to me, or Duncan."
Richie's only answer was to shrug. Amanda searched for a new opening
in the conversation.
"It really wasn't necessary" she hazarded.
"What do you mean by that?" Richie asked warily.
"Well, much as though it is always unpleasant it would hardly have
been the first time." Richie looked puzzled and she started to
explain. "There've been times in my life when the possibility of being
raped was the least of my problems. In some places it was normal
practice and what was expected of the women. In others it was a minor
misdemeanour easily overlooked by the general populace."
"That's horrible, Amanda. How did you bear it?" Richie asked.
"I had to get used to it. There was no alternative." She replied.
"How *could* you?" Richie sounded less certain of himself than normal.
"Didn't you hate the men who did it?"
"Not all rapists are male." Amanda replied wondering where the
conversation was leading. "And I eventually learnt that hate is self
defeating."
"But...didn't you feel...violated...used...worthless...?" Richie
tailed off into silence.
Amanda suddenly realised Richie was no longer talking about her
experiences but his own. His questions confirmed something that he'd
admitted to her in that cellar and she'd always suspected. Richie had
been raped at some point in his life. She had to choose her next words
carefully.
"At first...yes." Softly she added the question "Like you did?"
Richie wouldn't look at her. He seemed to be studying the back of his
hands intently as he whispered "Yes. It was along time ago..." Richie
started speaking then suddenly stopped. Amanda waited silently until
finally Richie continued. "I was about 13 and in another new foster
home. The family were well liked. You know the type, church going,
pillars of the community. Hell, I liked them. At first..."
Richie took another deep breath. "Then, one weekend my foster mother
took her kids to their grandparents leaving me behind. I wasn't a real
grandchild you see. My foster father went out for a drink and brought
a couple of his friends back with him. I was asleep when they arrived.
First thing I knew he stormed into my room shouting about something
missing. I never did find out what. He grabbed me and shook me a few
times. I could smell the alcohol. Then he said I was a little thief
and I had it coming..."
Richie stopped and for the first time looked met Amanda's steady gaze.
She almost gasped at the bitterness she saw in the usually clear blue
eyes. "He tied my hands behind my back with his own belt and he raped
me. Then he let his friends have their turn, before he did it again.
He left me tied up all night, then the following day he burnt the
bloodied sheets."
Richie stopped speaking and returned his gaze to his hands.
"Did you tell someone?" she asked.
"Who'd have believed me" Richie replied bitterly. "Everybody liked him
and I was just a scruffy kid from the orphanage."
"What happened?" she prompted.
"The following day, before my foster mother returned, he threatened
me. If I ever told he would kill me...and I believed him. I really
thought he would. He'd sit and watch me...leer at me. When he found
out that I was going to be left with him again the next weekend he
made it quite clear that it wasn't over. I was so scared that when the
others left I ran." Richie laughed, an oddly cold sound compared to
his usual happy laugh. "He never got his chance. I had no money and
got caught stealing food, so I spent that weekend at the police
station. By the time I was taken back to the house he was
furious...said I'd spoilt the family name. I got sent back to the
orphanage before that week was out."
Richie looked at Amanda as he continued "It never happened again...I
never *let* it. I trusted no one..."
"You trust Mac?" Amanda asked.
"Yeah. Not at first though...but I do now. I know he'd never hurt me."
"No he wouldn't...he loves you" she stated.
"Pity I let him down" Richie replied. "I should've stopped Ulick
before you got hurt."
"You did all you could, Richie"
"It wasn't enough" he replied. "I'm an adult now, but I can't protect
myself any better than that kid. No wonder everyone still treats me
like one. It was my fault that you were kidnapped, assaulted..."
"No, Richie, no" she broke in. "There was nothing you could've done.
Ulick took us both out too quickly and after that he didn't play fair.
If anyone should feel guilty it's me. That bastard not only raped you,
he *tortured* you. If I hadn't run then maybe..."
"Maybe he'd have tried out his little toys on you too." Richie managed
a hollow sounding laugh.
"Don't we make a good pair, both guilt ridden" Amanda forced a small
smile. "Must've been associating with a certain brooding Scot for too
long."
This time Richie's laugh was genuine...still a bit weak but genuine.
"You may be right. How about we do a deal here...you stop feeling
guilty and I will?"
"It's a deal" she agreed. "Now, when are you going to see Duncan?"
"Hey, give me a break" Richie replied trying to sound as normal as
possible. "I've only just agreed to cut out the guilt."
"He's really worried you know." Amanda watched as Richie looked a bit
uncomfortable and decided to push a little. "He hardly slept last
night."
"OK, OK you win. I *will* see him" Richie reassured her. "Just...give
me a little time. I have some things I need to sort out first." Richie
yawned suddenly.
"Good" she smiled. "Guess I'll leave you in peace now. You look like
you could use some sleep."
"I had a rough night too." Richie stood up and offered Amanda a hand
up. "Thanks Amanda. Thanks for...well, you know."
"Yes, I know...and thank *you*." She stopped at the door and turned
back to face him. "Whatever you may believe, Duncan doesn't think
you're a kid. You're his student *and* his friend...and he's worried
about you."
"I know...and I'll see him soon."
Amanda leaned over and gave him a quick kiss. "Just my way of saying
thanks. Goodbye Richie." She opened the door and stepped out quickly,
closing the door behind her.
"Bye Amanda." Richie watched her leave before turning towards his
bedroom. He really needed to catch up on some sleep.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
4/13
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Methos turned the shower temperature up to its highest setting and
stepped under the steaming water. Of all the changes and inventions
he'd seen through the millennia indoor plumbing came out on top.
Especially indoor plumbing combined with a large hot water tank. Cold
water bathing in rivers had never been his favourite pastime by any
means.
Picking up the soap he luxuriated in the sensations as he bathed
fascinated by the bright red colour his normally pale skin was
turning. If he'd been mortal he'd have been worried about it, but
since it couldn't kill him, at least not permanently, he ignored it.
Somewhere in the back of his mind he became aware of the phone ringing
and then Joe's voice answering. Whatever it was would wait. Nothing
was important enough to drag him out of this small taste of heaven.
Eventually it had to end. At the first dip in temperature, a warning
of the imminent exhaustion of the hot water supply, Methos quickly
turned the shower off and reached for his towel. He dried himself,
pulled on his favourite jeans and headed out towards the kitchen to
see what new information Joe had found.
Joe looked up at Methos as he entered the room, amused to see the
immortal wearing nothing but a pair of very worn jeans. He held a
towel in his hands still drying his damp hair and his skin was red,
right down to the toes of his bare feet. Joe was struck by how young
he looked. He'd often wondered how old Methos had been at his first
death but even Methos himself didn't remember that. Looking at him now
Joe guessed that he couldn't have been older than his mid twenties.
Suddenly realising he was staring Joe decided to break the silence.
"You should've told me you wanted lobster for breakfast" he quipped.
Methos laughed outright. "Hot water is a luxury, Joe, and I'm a
confirmed hedonist."
"Yeah, but was there any need to try and cook yourself?" Joe asked.
"I'm amazed you didn't get scalded."
"Actually I think I did" Methos replied looking at the skin on his
left shoulder, "but I'll heal and it felt so good."
"A hedonist *and* a sensualist" Joe grumbled. "I don't suppose you
left any hot water in the tank, either.
"Not a lot" Methos laughed again. "It'll soon reheat. What information
have you managed to find?"
"Well, Connor's watcher has faxed through all the information she can
find in his chronicles about his contacts with Ulick, but there isn't
very much. Either the Watchers missed something or Connor never met
him face to face after he interrupted that last fight with Duncan."
Joe stopped for a moment before continuing. "That was headquarters on
the phone. I requested that someone check through Ulick's chronicles
to see if they are any more informative."
"Yeah, they might just have something..." Methos' voice tailed off.
"Wait a minute, you said headquarters phoned here. I don't believe in
coincidence. What did they want?"
Joe almost smiled. Methos was quick, he give him that. Probably why
he'd survived as long as he had. But Joe knew something he didn't and
he was going to enjoy springing it on him. Working really hard to keep
the straight face he replied "Oh, just a couple of questions about the
closing report on Ulick."
"Why are they asking you? You weren't his Watcher?" Joe could hear the
suspicion in his voice.
"No, but I am MacLeod's and it was his kill" Joe replied carefully.
"Ulick is very good at losing Watchers when he needs to and his own
didn't see what happened. My report will be the only one submitted."
"You weren't there either" Methos commented.
"No but I've been told what happened...and this way there will be no
mention made of the part played by a young Watcher researcher from
Paris!"
"Oh" Methos relaxed slightly. "I guess that is a good reason."
Joe almost laughed and ruined his efforts, but somehow he got a rein
on his amusement. This was his chance to catch Methos off guard.
"Actually there was another purpose to the call."
"Yes"
Somehow Joe kept his voice neutral as he answered "Connor's Watcher is
unable to follow him and they need me to assign a temporary Watcher
whilst he's here."
"Who've you got in mind?" Methos asked.
"I haven't got anybody available at the moment" Joe replied "but they
gave me permission to...improvise slightly."
"And?" Methos sounded curious.
"Well, it seems we have a visiting Watcher in town. A young guy, still
in research." Joe couldn't help laughing as understanding flashed
across Methos' face. "Congratulations, Adam, you just got your first
field assignment. You're Connor's new Watcher!"
====================
The slim, dark haired figure leaned against the wall near the arrivals
at Seacouver airport. If the information from the Watchers was correct
and there had been no delays along the way Connor should be arriving
on the next flight. Methos wanted to talk to him before he had a
chance to see his stubborn clansman. To be honest, he was also rather
keen to meet the famous Connor MacLeod of the clan MacLeod, their
paths having never crossed before.
Connor had something of a reputation for being a headhunter, but he
chose his targets for good reasons and his quarry was always the kind
of immortal that could not be allowed to be the last. His last visit
to Seacouver had been on one such hunting trip although, in the end,
Slan Quince's quickening had gone to the younger MacLeod. At least
Methos knew that Connor wouldn't take his head without good reason.
Methos thought back over the events of the last few days. The death of
Ulick had been necessary and if anything long overdue. He just wished
that they could've prevented Richie's suffering at the hands of such a
sadist and, far more importantly, the subsequent strain in his student
/ mentor relationship with Duncan. Methos hoped that this damage could
be repaired with a little help from their friends. Besides it seemed
that Connor, himself, might have some things he needed to straighten
out with Duncan. The Watcher records weren't very helpful, but Methos
knew that Duncan still hadn't forgotten what Ulick had said during
their fight. In fact he suspected that, had Duncan not considered
Richie to be his highest priority, Connor may have been lucky not to
have had an irate phone call from a very determined, and annoyed,
clansman.
So here he was, the world's oldest immortal, assigned as Watcher to
the older MacLeod. The humour in the situation hadn't escaped either
Joe or Methos when Joe had told him. They'd both laughed for some
time. Now however, the situation was real. He knew that there was no
way he could operate like a normal Watcher. Connor would feel his buzz
as soon as he arrived.
Methos had thought about this first meeting very carefully. Connor
would certainly be extremely uneasy about another immortal presence,
especially an unknown one, until he had collected his luggage and
sword. If Methos wanted to speak to him on equal terms then he'd
better be unarmed too, or at least *appear* to be. He'd chosen to wear
tight jeans and a pullover, leaving his coat in the back of his car.
This gave him no place to conceal his sword. Connor should not see him
as a threat in his apparent unarmed state. Methos allowed himself a
small smile, the appropriate word in that previous thought being
apparent. Methos *never* allowed himself to be completely unarmed.
The first few passengers from the New York flight began appearing.
These were the businessmen, rushing to their meetings. Following them
were the bulk of the passengers, who proceeded to mill around the
luggage carousels. Methos watched the crowd pushing and jostling for a
place near the conveyor belt, each eager to get their bags and be
away. Then he felt it, the presence of a fellow immortal. The buzz ran
through his head strong and sure. This was no new born but a seasoned
campaigner made strong by age and quickenings.
Methos scanned the last few passengers. One figure stood out from the
rest, a tall man wearing a tan coat. He walked slowly, his eyes
sweeping across the crowd. As this search reached him, Methos
straightened slightly, caught the steady gaze of the other immortal
and gave a single nod. Connor's eyes never wavered as he made his way
through the crowd, which seemed to part before him. He stopped about a
few feet from Methos, taking in the lack of any obvious weapons and
the relaxed way the stranger stood with his empty hands clearly
visible at his sides.
"I'm Connor MacLeod, of the clan MacLeod" he introduced himself in the
formal manner of immortals meeting for the first time "and you are?"
"Unarmed" Methos replied quickly before adding "and a friend of your
clansman."
Connor didn't miss the fact that he had been given no name in
exchange. "I'm not here to visit. I have...business...in town."
"You are hunting." It wasn't a question. "Morven Ulick."
Connor acknowledged the truth with a nod of his head "You know him? Is
he a friend?"
"He was no one's friend" Methos replied "but I did know
him...briefly."
Although somewhat surprised by the use of the past tense and realising
the reason for it's use, Connor showed no outward reaction. "You took
his head?" he asked.
"No, Duncan did, a few days ago." Methos added quietly "I'd never seen
him before, but if I had, I'd have taken the bastard years ago."
"Duncan? What happened?" Connor asked anxiously. "Did Ulick fight
fairly?"
"Initially no. Ulick took Amanda and Richie as bait. She escaped. I
found her and took her back to Duncan. Once she'd recovered she led us
to him." Methos paused and looked at Connor before continuing "Ulick
used Richie to distract Mac, and it would've worked. Between us,
Amanda and I ensured the fight was fair and Duncan took him"
"What aren't you telling me?" Connor asked recognising the fact that
this was a much-shortened story.
"Ulick tortured Richie" Methos replied. "Mainly to upset Duncan, in
which he of course succeeded, but also for his own pleasure."
"And?" Connor prompted.
"Richie hasn't come to terms with his feelings and Duncan doesn't know
what to do to help." Methos watched Connor closely and continued "This
has put a serious strain on their relationship and could tear them
apart. I don't want to see that happen."
"What is Duncan to you?" Connor asked curiously.
"He's my saviour" Methos replied, a slight smile crossing his
features. "He took on another immortal in my place when I was so out
of practice I'd have probably lost my head." Methos' smile faded and
he studied Connor, who was looking somewhat surprised. "He's also the
best hope for humanity. I've never met a more honourable immortal. The
first time we met I offered him my head, almost begged him to take it
and my power, but he wouldn't. This is hurting him and I'm worried
that if Richie leaves now he may not recover. He's too important to
lose."
Connor watched the man standing in front of him carefully. Although
they had never met before he was convinced that this last statement
was the complete truth. But what a thing to tell someone in a first
meeting; saviour? What had Duncan done to deserve that honour?
Whatever it was it must've been a major event in both their lives, but
one that Duncan hadn't told him about. Still, there was something this
stranger was hiding. Suddenly a thought occurred to Connor. "This
wasn't just a chance meeting was it? How did you know I'd be here?"
Methos thought for a couple of seconds before replying "Has Mac told
you about the Watchers?"
"The mortals who watch us and record what we do? Yes" Connor nodded.
Methos eased the sleeve of his pullover up slightly and showed Connor
the tattoo. "The Watchers always try to know where every immortal is.
I'm..."
"You're the immortal Watcher Duncan told me he'd met. So you must be
Adam Pierson" Connor interrupted. At Methos' nod he continued "What
are you doing here? Why are you in Seacouver? I thought you were a
researcher in Paris."
"I am...I came to...warn Mac about Ulick." Methos gave Connor a
crooked grin and added, "and I'm here because I've been appointed as
your temporary Watcher."
"You aren't watched yourself?" Connor asked.
"No the Watchers don't know I'm immortal...and I'd like it to stay
that way" Methos replied. "It's the best hiding place I've found in
ages."
"I certainly won't tell them" Connor reassured him. "Damned peeping
Toms!"
Methos laughed. "I think that's the luggage starting to arrive. Let's
get your bags and I'll give you a lift into town."
"OK" Connor replied. "I'll just be glad to have my sword back. How do
you tolerate being unarmed?"
Methos smiled as they rejoined the passengers milling around the
baggage carousel. "Well now, who says I'm unarmed?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
5/13
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Duncan was in the dojo. Amanda had tricked him, sending him out
running and then disappearing whilst he was gone. She'd left no note,
but one of his credit cards was missing again. After two hours his
initial annoyance was beginning to turn to concern.
Deciding that he needed to burn off some of the barely contained
energy and at the same time try to find some peace in his mind he went
down to the dojo. After an initial warm up he started with the most
basic karate katas gradually working his way through the list to the
more complex ones. Completing these he picked up his katana and
started another set of forms. He was beginning to find the calm
centre he was seeking when the sense of an approaching immortal washed
over him. He turned to face the door, katana in hand and waited for
the other to enter.
Amanda walked into the dojo and saw Duncan. One look at his face and
she knew she was in trouble. She smiled brightly and said "Hi Mac.
Sorry I took so long. I just thought you might like some breakfast."
She held up a bag containing fresh bagels.
"Really" he growled. "And this little endeavour took you what...two
hours? Did you have to cook them yourself?"
"Mac, that's not fair." She started inching along the edge of the dojo
trying to get to the elevator. "I wanted to do some shopping too."
"What no bags?" he replied as he moved to place himself between her
and her escape route. "Shopping usually generates lots of those."
"I didn't find what I wanted" she mumbled. Suddenly realising that his
stalking movements were about to cut her off, she made a bolt for the
elevator. It didn't work. They reached the gate together and before
she knew what was happening she found herself pressed against the
metal, held in place by strong hands.
Duncan looked at the squirming female he held. Amanda wasn't the only
immortal lover he'd taken by any means, but she was the most
important. She was the one he kept returning to throughout the
centuries, and she to him. His 'bad habit' he'd once told Tessa. Well,
right now his bad habit was being a very bad girl. Shifting the grip
of his right hand he eased the katana, he still carried, away from her
body so that it wouldn't accidentally hurt her.
"Now," he spoke softly near her ear "where've you been and what were
you doing?"
She wriggled again, well aware of the effect on her captor. Hearing
Duncan suddenly gasp, she put on her best innocent puppy dog look and
said "Does it matter? I'm here now, and we're alone."
Duncan pulled her hands down to her sides, holding them against her
and effectively preventing any further movement. "Yes, it matters. Now
tell."
Amanda sighed. Once he made his mind up like this there was no
changing the subject. She really didn't want to tell him she'd seen
Richie. Not yet anyway. Duncan needed to feel like he was the one
solving all the problems; the leader of the clan. Unfortunately, this
time he was part of the problem and he wasn't in any position to solve
it alone. He hated to admit he needed help. Slowly she looked at him
and saw the determination in the brown eyes.
"Well Amanda?"
"I went out early this morning, right after you left.
I...just...needed some air."
"Really?" he sounded sceptical. "Where did you go?"
She thought for a second before replying "I was walking...just
walking..." her voice trailed off and both she and Duncan stiffened
suddenly.
The buzz of an immortal stopped the conversation in it's tracks.
Duncan released Amanda and stood facing the door his katana still in
his hand. Amanda stayed pressed against the gate but slipped her hand
inside her coat and checked for her sword. The door opened.
"Hello, Mac" Methos walked into the dojo with all his characteristic
grace. Taking in the scene before him he guessed what had been
happening. "Hi Amanda. What's in the bag?"
Amanda held the bag up to him as he approached "Breakfast."
"Ooh, bagels. And they're still hot." Methos winked at Amanda. "What
are you doing standing around here? Let's go eat." Quickly he lifted
the gate and escorted Amanda onto the elevator.
Duncan watched all this. Something felt wrong and he couldn't place
it. Suddenly it struck him. The buzzing in his skull hadn't faded as
it normally did once he saw the approaching immortal. In fact if
anything it'd just increased. Dimly he heard Methos speak again "By
the way Mac, I met an old friend of yours at the airport."
Duncan turned back towards the door just in time to see Connor enter.
The two men looked each other over.
"Connor"
"Duncan"
Their traditional greeting over they stepped forward and embraced each
other like the long time friends they were. For a few moments they
stood there just enjoying the moment.
Methos took the opportunity to hit the button for the loft and leave
the two Highlanders to their reunion. There would be time to talk
later.
====================
"Why did you do it Duncan?" Connor asked. "Why couldn't you leave him
for me?"
"I couldn't wait for you" Duncan replied. "After what Amanda saw I
couldn't leave Richie there any longer...as it was I was too late to
save him from that bastard's sickness." Duncan took a long sip of his
scotch. The argument had been going on for some time now and they were
just going round in circles. "He owed me his head."
"Ulick was *mine*" Connor slammed his glass down on the counter.
"What do you mean, Ulick was yours?" Duncan roared at his older
clansman. "It wasn't your student he tortured."
"Not this time, no." Connor wouldn't look at him. In fact Connor
wouldn't look at anything but the floor and for the first time Duncan
realised that there was something much more important behind this
argument than the simple matter of who'd taken Ulick's head. He
watched as Connor slowly turned and leaned against the kitchen
counter, his entire body radiated exhaustion and regret.
"Tell me Connor" Duncan said quietly. "What did he do?"
Connor glanced into the living area where Amanda and Methos were
sitting talking to Joe. They were all studiously ignoring the heated
conversation in the kitchen, despite the fact that most of it had been
at a volume they would've had to be deaf to miss.
"Can't your Watcher friends tell you that?" The bitterness in Connor
voice was all Duncan needed to hear to convince him that this was a
subject he and Connor had to talk about. Their relationship was just
too important to them both. They had long since passed the mentor and
student stage and reached the realm of real friends. Friendships
between immortals could last for centuries, or even millennia, but
they were hard to form and difficult to protect. Trust between
immortals was a fragile thing, hard won, and the Game had a nasty
habit of interfering. Duncan was not going to lose Connor because of
someone like Ulick.
"I don't want the Watcher's version...I want your story" Duncan
replied carefully. He glanced across the room to find Methos observing
him. As their eyes met Methos nodded once and smiled slightly before
apparently returning his concentration to the conversation around him.
Duncan took a deep breath and looked at Connor and asked "Will you
tell me?"
"Why not?" Connor shrugged looking defeated. "It's just another tale
of man's inhumanity, or in this case immortal inhumanity. Them too?"
he indicated the group in the living area.
"If you can. I'd prefer it, and it would save a lot of time later, but
it's up to you."
Connor turned, stood up straight and faced Duncan. Picking up his
discarded glass he replied. "OK then, but you'd better have a new
bottle of this scotch...it's rather a long story."
Together the two Highlanders walked into the main area. Connor sat
down whilst Duncan collected a new bottle of scotch. He checked the
other's drinks were full then joined the group. For several seconds no
one spoke, the silence seemed to thicken around them. Finally Joe
decided this was silly.
"Did you two get everything settled then?" he asked.
The question was irrelevant and they all knew it, but it served its
purpose as Duncan replied "No, but we did make one decision."
"And that was?" Methos prompted.
"I tell you all why I should've been the one to take Ulick's
Quickening." Connor replied.
"I need to know why it was so important" Duncan continued "and this
way I won't have to give Joe all the details later."
"Some of this will be in the Chronicles but do you mind if I add any
bits that are missing?" Joe asked Connor.
"No, you might as well have the truth. If we don't learn from our
mistakes we're doomed to repeat them." Connor took a long drink from
his glass and started his story.
"I'm not sure where Ulick was born, unless the Watchers know..." Joe
shook his head and Connor continued. "Well, he was found in Wales in
the early 1500s. I do know this because the immortal who found him was
Ramirez. He never told me how long he'd been there or how long he'd
been immortal, just that that was where he found him, and that he'd
been living alone for some time. Now Ramirez already had a student at
the time, Irene, who was still very new, and he didn't feel he could
take on another. Instead he took Ulick with them to another of his ex
students and left him with him."
Connor looked around the four interested faces. "This was the first
and probably biggest mistake Ramirez made. Ulick believed that women
were mere property, to be used as and when he required. When Ramirez
chose to find a new teacher for Ulick and keep Irene with him, Ulick
took that as a personal affront." Connor stopped and took another
drink.
Methos used the time to look around at the other listeners. Duncan was
calm, a study in stoicism, showing no emotion. Amanda looked annoyed,
probably by the reference to women being property. Even Joe had tensed
up slightly when he heard this, but he continued to listen carefully
to every word his watcher training showing through. Methos was making
a studied effort to keep his usual relaxed sprawl. Connor's story was
awakening some of his less pleasant memories, ones he'd buried deep in
the darkest recesses of his mind. Briefly he wondered what the others
would think if they knew the truth of his past, that he had committed
worse crimes than Ulick. He was sure that they'd be shocked. It was
quite possible that Duncan would judge him, declare him irredeemable
and try for his head. It would be well within his normal judgmental
behaviour. Methos pushed these depressing thoughts aside as Connor
resumed speaking.
"As far as I know, Ramirez and Ulick never met again. He mentioned him
to me when I asked what would've happened to me if he hadn't found me
or if he'd had another student at the time. What I do know is that
Ulick failed to learn enough about fighting from his new teacher.
Whether this was because his teacher wasn't very good, either at
swordplay or teaching, or because Ulick himself was incapable of
learning isn't known, but whatever the cause Ulick was barely
competent with a sword at best." Connor stopped and took another look
round his audience. "I believe the latter...Ramirez's students were
always well trained."
"Exactly what happened next I'm not sure. I know word reached Ulick
that Irene had left Ramirez and he expected him to return to become
his teacher. When Ramirez didn't it seems Ulick decided that he still
wanted to be taught by the best. He took his teacher's head, possibly
in his sleep, and set out to visit Irene. She later told me he
arrived, begging for help, claiming his teacher had been killed by an
unknown immortal. He also told her that he was being hunted too and
that he was searching for Ramirez. Irene let him stay with her
overnight intending to give him directions to find Ramirez the next
day."
Methos watched Connor take a long drink from his glass before
continuing.
"In the middle of the night Ulick attacked her. Apparently he still
hated her because Ramirez chose her over him. Fortunately she was as
good as all Ramirez's other students. She beat him, but instead of
taking his worthless head, she spared him and threw him out without
telling him where Ramirez was. He must have searched, unsuccessfully
for several years."
"Where was Ramirez during this time?" Joe prompted when Connor seemed
to be getting lost in memories.
"In Scotland...training his last student." A slight smile crossed
Connor's face as he thought of his much missed mentor and again he
lapsed into silence.
This time it was Duncan who asked "What happened next?"
"Ulick found out that Ramirez was dead and that he'd not only failed
to return for him but he'd taken a new student in the meantime. He
started searching for me. He wasn't very successful and it was about
three years after Heather's death before he found me."
"Was this when you fought him?" Joe asked "The Watchers have a record
of a meeting between you."
"Yes, he challenged me and I won. I should've killed him there and
then, but as I paused ready to take his head he told me he was another
of Ramirez's students. I didn't know the truth at the time and in
Ramirez's memory I let him go. If only I'd known the truth." Connor
stopped speaking again.
"When did you next see him?" Joe asked.
"Not until the time he tried to take Duncan." Connor replied, "but
that was some years later. In those intervening years I travelled and
met several other immortals. By then stories about Ulick and his
hunting methods were spreading. Having decided that he couldn't win a
fair fight he started to cheat. He chose mainly the newest immortals
but even then he would use mortals as both bait and extra help in his
fights."
Connor stopped and looked directly at Duncan. "That was why I knew
about him that day in the inn...and why I knew you couldn't trust him
to make a fair challenge. I knew you could beat him in a fair fight,
but I didn't trust him and didn't want to lose you."
"Why didn't you take him when he killed me later?" Duncan demanded
angrily. "You knew he was cheating and you knew he'd do it again. You
should have finished it then."
"I don't know." Connor couldn't look at them. "Part of me wanted to,
knew I should, but the rest of me still saw him as another immortal
that Ramirez rescued. I thought his behaviour was due to lack of
understanding and incomplete training. I planned to find him later,
and teach him what he needed to know." Connor spoke so softly now
Methos had to strain to hear him. "I never realised what a sadistic
bastard he was...until it was too late."
"Too late for what?" Amanda spoke for the first time since the story
had begun.
"Too late for Irene...and Nicole" Connor whispered.
"Nicole?" she asked gently.
Connor forced himself to look up. Taking a deep breath he continued
the story. "After Duncan left me I started my search for Ulick.
Eventually this led me to Irene...and there I met Nicole. She was
Irene's student. Young, intelligent and beautiful...and I loved her.
She woke feelings in me that I thought I'd buried with Heather. She
didn't deserve..." Connor tailed off again.
"What happened to her?" Amanda asked.
"Ulick happened." The bitterness in Connor's voice was obvious.
"Whilst I was staying with them Irene told me what had happened
between her and Ulick and what she suspected he'd done to his original
teacher. I was determined to hunt him down and confront him. As it
happened, he was hunting...us. Ulick never forgave Ramirez and he
never forgot his hatred of Irene or myself. He truly believed that we
were the reason Ramirez wouldn't mentor him. I wonder if Ramirez had
any idea what kind of man he was?"
Methos recognised the look that crossed Connor's face. He'd seen it
too often on his own. It was a look of complete despair.
"Ulick wanted our attention and he got it. He kidnapped Nicole."
"Did you find her?" This time it was Joe who prompted Connor.
"Oh yes, we found her. Everyday, for nearly a month, Ulick would leave
a box somewhere on the edge of Irene's estate. Each box
contained...pieces...of Nicole. First a finger or a toe, then her arm.
The bastard cut her up, slowly...but he didn't take her head. At
least, not immediately." Methos could feel the hatred and bitterness
in Connor. No one deserved to suffer like that.
"The whole of the time this was happening Irene and I searched but no
matter where we looked we couldn't find him. Finally, when he'd
butchered her alive, he took her quickening and sent us her head and
an address. I argued with Irene. She wanted to go alone but I wouldn't
let her, so she slipped a knife in me. When I revived she was gone,
and I never saw her again." Connor looked up and faced Duncan across
the room. "I know he took her quickening, he made sure that I heard
that, but he didn't tell me how. I never found her body."
"I spent the next twenty years hunting Ulick. Eventually he left the
country and I lost him. Ever since then I've searched for him, but
never got close. Meanwhile he has hunted the young and the weak, using
tricks and cheating. He's been systematically wiping out all Ramirez's
students, and their students too. He was particularly keen on those
immortals Irene or I mentored. I've lost more students to him than any
other immortal and each time he took one he'd send me something as a
trophy, to remind me he was still out there." Connor looked at Duncan.
"I got a tip off that he was coming here and I knew his target had to
be you. I have few students left. You are more than that to me...you
are my clansman and my friend. I couldn't let him take you. I couldn't
lose you too."
When Connor finished his story he sat staring at his hands folded in
his lap. Methos watched as Duncan moved until he was kneeling on the
floor in front of Connor. Carefully he took his mentor's hands in his
own, offering support and understanding. No words were spoken. They
weren't needed. Their previous argument was forgotten as Duncan shared
his clansman's grief.
Methos nodded to Amanda and Joe and the three of them moved away and
into the kitchen.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
6/13
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
The sleeping figure stirred slightly, drawing Methos' attention, but
didn't wake. Methos was relieved, deciding that Duncan would continue
to sleep. He rather suspected that it had been several days since
Duncan had got any real rest.
The two of them were alone in the loft. Joe and Amanda had left
shortly after Connor finished his story, ostensibly to check on Joe's
bar, but in reality to give the two Clansmen the privacy they
required. Methos himself had retreated to the dojo office.
Connor had appeared in the office a couple of hours later, announcing
his need for a long walk and some time to think. Methos had been
surprised when the older Highlander had reached out and shaken his
hand. Seeing his confusion, Connor had smiled slightly and expressed
his thanks for the push Methos had given him to tell Duncan the truth.
He'd even admitted that without this they would probably both have
skirted around the subject for weeks, never resolving anything and
leaving a permanent scar in their friendship. Things still weren't
perfect between the two of them, but they were at least improving.
Methos waited for a further hour in hope that Duncan would come down
from the loft. Predictably the younger Highlander had refused to leave
the building in case Richie returned; predictable, but not good. This
would almost certainly involve him sitting brooding for hours, which
was not what Methos wanted to see. Eventually Methos had decided to go
up to the loft and find out.
He'd found Duncan half-sitting and half-lying on the bed, an open book
still in his hand. Evidently the tension and exhaustion of the last
few days and the emotional scene between him and his clansman had
finally caught up with him. Gently Methos had eased the book from the
relaxed fingers, made himself comfortable on the sofa and settled down
to keep watch.
This was two hours ago and Duncan still slept, although less
peacefully now. He was restless and Methos could hear him mumbling an
odd word. Quietly he moved towards the bed, guessing that whatever
horrors Duncan was seeing would wake him soon.
//Again Duncan found himself in the cellar. Nothing in the room itself
appeared different, the bare walls and pipe work remained unchanged
but something was new. Duncan forced himself to look up at the beaten
figure hanging limply from the silvery handcuffs.
Richie was barely, if at all, conscious. His abused back and legs were
red raw, a mass of dried blood and semen. Large open burns and wounds
covered most of what was left of his skin.
Suddenly Duncan became aware of the difference in the room; the stench
of burning flesh was almost overpowering.
"Why don't you stop this? Mac? Please stop this!" Richie's voice was
weak, almost a whisper. Duncan had to strain to hear it.
Once again Duncan found himself unable to answer. Slowly, dreading
what he might see there, he looked at his hands to find his worst
fears confirmed. This time it wasn't a knife or a belt he held. In his
hand was a large metal rod heated until the end glowed red-hot.
Horrified he watched as against his will his hand raised the rod.
"Why is this happening, Mac? You can stop it? You *could've* prevented
it" Richie's voice sounded desperate now. Duncan tried to force a
reply, but his body wouldn't respond to his commands.
"Stop this, Mac, please stop this!" Richie begged.
Duncan looked again at the rod in his hand as it slowly moved towards
Richie's exposed buttocks...//
"No, No, NO!" Duncan's shout cut through the silence in the loft.
Methos, who'd just reached the side of the bed watched as Duncan
jerked upright. His eyes were open, but obviously focussed on
something only he could see and he was trembling violently. His mouth
moved, but no further sounds escaped.
Suddenly Duncan grabbed his own right wrist in his left hand.
Squeezing hard and for several seconds he appeared to be fighting a
battle against his own body. Sweat poured down his face and he
continued to shake all over but he refused to release the wrist. In
fact, he just continued to increase the pressure until Methos heard
the distinct sound of cracking bones.
"MacLeod...Mac" Methos spoke gently, being very careful not to get too
close to the other man. "Mac...it's OK...it's a dream, Mac...just a
dream" The trembling reduced slightly, but there was no recognition in
the eyes of the Scot.
"MacLeod" Methos tried again. "Mac...it's just a dream...wake up,
Mac...come back to me, Duncan"
Suddenly the glazed eyes cleared, almost as if Methos' rare use of his
given name was the trigger. Recognition dawned and for a brief moment
deep brown eyes met golden green ones. Then the strong body seemed to
collapse, curling in on itself, great tremors running through it.
Now Duncan was free of the nightmare visions Methos moved to the bed
and sat beside his friend. Slowly he reached out and touched Duncan's
shoulder. Feeling the bed shift under the new weight Duncan looked up
at Methos. Seeing the concern in his friend's eyes Duncan forced
himself to stop shaking and sit up straighter, unconsciously rubbing
his right wrist.
"Let me see" Methos said calmly as he took the damaged limb in his
own. A brief examination reassured him that the breaks had been clean
and that Duncan's immortal healing would soon repair it. "No problem
there, it's nearly fixed" he commented.
Duncan didn't reply, his mind obviously still struggling to separate
reality and whatever visions he had seen in his nightmares. When
Duncan showed no signs of responding Methos decided to prompt him.
"That was quite a bad one" he commented gently. "Do you want to talk
about it?" He didn't really expect the Scot to take him up on the
offer but to his surprise Duncan started speaking in a shaky voice.
"I was back in that cellar with Richie...he was...being hurt. Ulick
wasn't there." Duncan's voice was getting weaker and Methos had to
strain to hear him. "It was...it was me. I was the one hurting him. He
kept asking me why. I couldn't tell him." Duncan took a deep breath
and looked up to find Methos watching him carefully. Methos tightened
the grip on Duncan's right hand that he still held. Keeping the eye
contact Duncan continued "He begged me to stop, pleaded with me, but I
couldn't. I couldn't stop it. I just couldn't..."
Duncan's voice broke and with it his fragile hold on his composure.
Before he realised what was happening Methos had drawn him into his
arms and was holding him as the tension of the previous days was
released in great gasping sobs. Slowly Methos eased himself and Duncan
further onto the bed making the two of them as comfortable as possible
and gently he stroked the Highlander's long hair.
After a while the sobs quieted, leaving just a few silent tears and
Duncan slowly became aware that Methos was speaking quiet words of
reassurance to him. Pulling back slightly he looked up, half expecting
to see contempt in the eyes of the older man. What he did find was
compassion and shared pain.
"There was nothing you could've done to prevent it" Methos' words
finally started to penetrate the guilt surrounding the younger man. As
Duncan turned to face Methos the irony of the situation hit him and
the slightly amused look in Methos' eyes showed that it wasn't lost on
him either. How long had it been, Duncan wondered, since he'd held
Richie in the same way?
Suddenly embarrassed Duncan pulled himself away from Methos and sat on
the edge of the bed with his back to his friend. Methos watched him as
Duncan carefully rubbed the tear stains from his face. He knew that
Duncan needed to talk, to get his thoughts straight and put his own
pain behind him. Then, and only then, could he help Richie and begin
to repair the strained relationship with his youngest student. The
problem would be getting the stubborn and proud man to admit it. If
Methos let Duncan run away from himself now he would likely never sort
out his feelings and, even though Duncan had taken his head, Ulick
would have one final victory. Methos couldn't let this happen and
decided that if he was going to give Duncan the push he needed it was
now or never.
"MacLeod" there was no response from the younger man. "Mac, it's OK. I
think you needed that."
Duncan's reply was barely a mumble. Methos didn't manage to make out
very much of what he said, but guessed it was along the lines that
tears solved nothing.
"Mac, come on" Methos tried again. "Talk to me, Mac. You know it will
help."
"Too much talking and not enough action" Duncan replied quietly.
"That's what started this in the first place."
"No it wasn't" Methos countered. "What started this was one very sick
individual, and you finished him. Now you need to repair the damage,
and you can't do that while you're hiding from your own feelings."
Duncan didn't reply, but Methos saw a slight lessening of the tension
in the broad shoulders. Once again he decided to risk pushing the
younger man.
"Mac" There was still no reply. Remembering the Highlander's earlier
reaction to Methos' use of his given name he tried one more time.
"Duncan, tell me how you feel."
Methos didn't really expect any form of response but for the second
time Duncan surprised him with a reply.
"I feel...anger most of all. Anger that Richie was used to get at me"
he began tentatively. "I thought that killing Ulick would solve that,
but it hasn't. I'm angry with myself for letting it happen and I feel
so guilty. I wish I'd spent longer hunting for Ulick after our first
meeting. If I had this would never have happened. And I'm really angry
with Connor..." he trailed off.
"What else Mac?" Methos prompted when he seemed reluctant to continue.
He was well aware that the situation with Connor was far from
completely resolved, but the more immediate problem was Richie.
"I'm frightened that I'll lose Richie again" Duncan admitted. "When I
sent him away after he took Mako's head I thought I was right, that it
was time. I didn't stop to consider what he felt. He left thinking I
never wanted to see him again and I almost lost him for good. If Hyde
hadn't chased him back to me I don't know if he would ever have
returned. Now he has I want him to stay. I'm scared to let him go."
"You can't protect them for ever" Methos said quietly. Duncan looked
up and saw his own pain and fear reflected in the older immortal's
eyes. "They have to make their own way. The best you can hope for is
that they will survive and you will remain friends."
"I know" Duncan said in a resigned voice. "I just don't know what's
best to do now. How can I prevent this tearing Richie away and
destroying our friendship for ever?"
"You may not be able to Highlander" At Duncan's distressed look he
continued more gently "But you can try. Richie may not be ready to
talk to you yet but you can talk to him. Tell him what you told me,
how important his friendship is. Offer your support, but don't push or
he may feel trapped and run." Methos looked up to see Duncan watching
him. He reached out and took the large hands in his own as he
continued "Talk to him, explain your feelings but don't ask about his
own. He needs to understand what you feel before he'll be able to sort
out his own feelings."
"But what if he won't see me?" Duncan sounded unusually uncertain. "He
left here so abruptly, and I don't want to chase after him...I might
scare him into really leaving."
"Don't worry, he'll come to you when he is ready to talk" Methos
replied. "I'll make sure he does" he added under his breath.
"But..."
"Not now Highlander" Methos stood and still holding Duncan's hands
pulled him to his feet. "You need time to think, and so does Richie.
Tomorrow will be soon enough."
Methos turned and started to release Duncan's hands, only to find the
younger immortal tightened his grip. He looked up to find Duncan's
deep brown eyes, still reddened from his tears, watching him closely.
For several seconds they stood there, neither one moving, neither one
wanting to be the one to pull away.
Eventually Duncan took a slow deep breath and spoke quietly "Thank
you, I owe you for this one".
"That's what friends are for, MacLeod" Methos replied. Suddenly
breaking the mood he gave a lopsided grin and tugged Duncan in the
direction of the kitchen. "And you can pay me back in beer."
Duncan followed the older man, unable to stop the soft laugh that
escaped his lips.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
7/13
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
It was late and Methos stood outside Richie's apartment block. Once
Connor and Amanda had returned to the dojo he'd left saying that he
was going to spend the night at Joe's. Duncan would be with them and
they weren't about to let him sink back into his brooding.
Now, however, Methos was worried. Twice since leaving the dojo he had
felt the presence of another immortal. At first he'd thought either
Connor or Amanda must be following him for some reason, but he hadn't
been approached. Seacouver wasn't exactly a popular immortal centre
and most of those who did visit the area came to see the younger
Highlander, with or without their swords drawn. Whoever was there had
been very careful to stay just on the edge of sensing range but out of
sight. Methos sighed, there was nothing he could do now, and he had a
more important concern for the evening. The unknown immortal would
just have to wait for the morning.
Walking casually to the door of the building Methos spotted Richie's
Watcher observing him. Fortunately it wasn't one he recognised and he
hoped his late night visit would go unrecorded. He quickly let himself
in, the poor quality lock providing little challenge since Amanda had
briefed him and once inside made his way to Richie's apartment.
To his surprise Richie was waiting at the door although his Rapier was
notable by its absence. Amanda's account of her visit had led him to
expect far worse and this was an improvement; a small one maybe, but
still a definite improvement.
"Adam. I might've known. What is it with you guys?" Richie asked
"Still checking up on me? Don't you ever call first?"
"Not if I can avoid it" Methos replied a hint of humour in his voice,
"and definitely not when the Highlander is involved." He pointedly
looked at Richie's arm that still blocked his way and asked, "Are you
going to let me in?"
"Are you going to leave if I don't?"
Methos just shook his head.
"Guess you'd better come in then" Richie waited until Methos had
passed him before carefully closing and locking the door. Turning
round he saw Methos standing in the middle of the floor looking around
him in surprise. Starting from Amanda's description the room was
almost unrecognisable. The piles of magazines, clothes and general
junk that normally covered every flat surface had vanished. The floor
had been recently swept and the furniture washed and polished. The
overall impression was that of a hotel room, clean and tidy, but
completely impersonal.
"Been having a garage sale?" Methos asked dryly.
"Not really" Richie sounded a little flustered. "I always meant to
clear up some time and...well...I kept waking up and I...erm...needed
to...well...you know..." Richie trailed off.
"Actually I do know" Methos replied quietly "All too well."
They lapsed into an uneasy silence, neither man sure how to start the
conversation. Eventually Methos chose the easiest option.
"You got any beer?"
"Yeah" Richie replied. By the time he had fetched a couple of bottles
from the refrigerator Methos was sprawled on the sofa. Richie handed a
bottle to the older man and settled down facing him.
"How's Mac?" Richie broke the silence that was threatening to take
over again.
"Brooding" Methos replied carefully.
"I'll bet"
"This isn't easy for him."
"It wasn't especially easy for me either" Richie snapped. "How do you
think it feels to be treated like a slave, to be beaten and raped? Not
because you deserve it, just to please some perverted twisted mind.
Imagine what it feels like to be broken." Richie looked at the floor
and added softly "How do you think it feels to have to beg for it to
happen?"
"Repulsed, sickened, frightened, disgusted" Methos replied carefully
not looking at Richie. "And that isn't the worst of it, is it? You
hate your captor for what he's doing, but you hate yourself even more
for letting him. And when it's all over you have nothing left. You
feel wretched and worthless." Methos looked up and met Richie's blue
eyes "Am I close?"
"It happened to you" Richie breathed. "When, and who?"
"Long ago, *very* long ago. As for who, that doesn't matter anymore.
They are all long since dead, mortal and immortal alike."
"But how did you...well...you know..." Richie stopped unable to put
the question he needed to ask into words.
"Survive? Get past it? Carry on?" Methos met Richie's gaze again and
saw the truth in his guesses. "With great difficulty...the *first*
time. After that it got easier?"
"Easier? How many times has this happened?" Richie blurted out.
"I never counted, but more times than I care to remember."
v
"More times...? How old are you?" Richie asked.
"Older than MacLeod...or Amanda" Methos replied, careful to avoid
answering the question directly.
"As old as Darius?" Richie asked remembering the oldest immortal he
had met.
"Yes" Methos replied softly "we were friends."
"Wow" Richie fell silent, staring at the floor, as he tried to
comprehend the vast age of the young looking immortal before him.
For a long time the two sat in silence. Methos watched Richie struggle
to accept what little he had given away and wondered how the younger
immortal would react if he told him the whole truth. Eventually Richie
looked up and again met Methos' steady gaze.
"Does it ever stop...hurting...I mean...?" Richie couldn't find the
words but Methos knew exactly what he was asking.
"Yes, but not unless you make it."
"And how am I supposed to do that?" Richie asked tersely.
"Well, I always found it important to start by repairing the damage
where I could" Methos explained. "When I'd fixed the little things the
bigger ones often didn't seem so daunting." Methos looked up and
smiled slightly "At least you won't have to try to explain your death
and resurrection!"
Richie found an answering smile on his face before he realised it
"That's true."
"You do, however, have to patch up your friendship with a certain
stubborn Scot" Methos added more seriously.
"I know," Richie lapsed into silence. Neither saying anything; each
waiting for the other to start. Methos watched the younger man, trying
to gauge his thoughts by the brief flashes of expression that crossed
his face. Eventually Richie spoke again, quietly, as if to himself. "I
can't do it. I can't face him. I just can't run to him again."
"Again?" Methos queried, guessing what Richie was referring to but
hoping to draw Richie out.
"Martin Hyde" Richie couldn't look at Methos as he spoke. "He hounded
me, forced me to run to Mac." Taking a deep breath Richie continued to
speak. "It seems like all I ever do, all I'm ever going to be *able*
to do, is go running back to Mac. How am I supposed exist like that?
What kind of immortal will that make me? Will I ever be able to
survive on my own?" Richie stopped speaking but continued to stare at
the floor, unable to meet Methos' eyes.
"Live, grow stronger, fight another day" Methos said into the silence
surrounding them. "I've lived by that for longer than I can remember.
I've even said it to MacLeod on occasion."
"Yeah...but..."
"There is no but, Richie. It's a straightforward statement of fact.
You'll only be a victim as long as you let yourself be. While you live
you can always grow stronger. There is no fight worth dying for."
Methos reached across and touched the younger immortal's hand making
sure he had his full attention before he continued to speak. "You
*are* immortal. Keep your head and you have all the time in the world.
How you choose to use that time, that's up to you."
Richie finally looked at Methos. He saw no sign of either amusement or
contempt in the green gold eyes, just total and complete
understanding. The idea that an older immortal, probably the oldest
immortal Richie had ever met, could understand what he was feeling was
somewhat disconcerting and not a little unnerving. Sensing what Richie
was feeling and not wanting to make him any more uncomfortable, Methos
withdrew his hand and waited for Richie to speak.
"What do I do about Mac? I want to stay friends. I just don't know how
to do it."
"Start with what you do know, or can figure out" Methos advised. "What
do you think he's feeling right now?"
"Guilt!" Richie managed a weak smile.
"That almost goes without saying" Methos answered the smile "But what
else?"
"Anger?" Richie guessed.
"Yes, anger. At Ulick, at fate and even at Connor." Methos saw the
confusion cross Richie's face. "Apparently he and Ulick had some
previous encounters and MacLeod believes Connor should have taken him
years ago." Methos, paused watching the younger immortal digest that
information, before prompting him towards the main point of the
discussion. "Do you think it's possible that he is feeling the same
doubts and fears as you?"
"What? Mac? Frightened?" Richie sounded almost shocked. "You have to
be joking!"
"It's no joke" Methos stated. "MacLeod feels these things just like
the rest of us; he just hides it better. In this case he has begun to
doubt his ability, both as a teacher and as a protector. That may not
be so important for you or I, but he was brought up to be a clan chief
and *needs* to protect his clan. The doubts alone could break him."
Richie was silent, trying to assimilate all that Methos had said.
Eventually he asked quietly "You said fear? Ulick is dead. What could
he possibly fear?"
"Right now, what he fears most is losing his favourite student."
"Oh" again Richie was silent for several seconds before asking, "What
do I need to do?"
"You have to make the first move, Richie. He won't come here. He
thinks he's driven you away, and he doesn't know how to repair the
damage." Methos waited until Richie again met his steady gaze. "You
must go to the dojo and see him, or if you can't do that at least
phone."
"I don't know...I'm not sure..." Richie started.
"I am" Methos interrupted.
"But..."
"It has to be this way, Richie" Methos continued. "How much does
MacLeod's friendship mean to you?"
"Everything" Richie stated firmly. "Mac's the best thing that ever
happened to me. Before he took me in, well, my life was going nowhere.
I can't even begin to imagine what would've happened to me without
him."
"Then do something positive" Methos pushed slightly "It's up to you."
Richie again took his time in answering, but finally he spoke, just
one word "Yes".
Methos stood, reaching for his coat and turned towards the door.
"You're going?" Richie asked.
"Yes" Methos answered him briefly. "I came to see how you were and to
convince you to at least speak to MacLeod and I've done that...haven't
I?"
"Yeah"
"Then my job is done" Methos explained.
"Wait. If you are going to the dojo I'll...go with you"
"Actually I wasn't" Methos said with a slight smile "it's a bit
crowded with Amanda and Connor there. I'm staying at Joe's."
"Connor's here?" Richie asked.
"Did I forget to mention that?" Methos smiled again. "He arrived
yesterday. He and *his student* have a few things to work out too."
Methos watched the smile that crossed Richie's face before continuing,
"I think you also have things to think through tonight. Tomorrow will
be soon enough to see MacLeod."
Richie was still slightly stunned and, by the time he looked up, was
just in time to see the door close behind the older immortal. He
wriggled around until he found a more comfortable position and settled
down for a long night of thinking.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
8/13
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Again Methos stood outside Richie's apartment block. He was rather
relieved, the evening having been more successful then he'd dared to
hope. Now all he had to worry about was Scottish pride and American
youthful bravado working against each other. Still that was a problem
for a new day. First he needed several hours of restful sleep.
Methos turned and started walking towards Joe's when he felt the
tingle of an immortal presence on the edges of his awareness. He
cursed quietly having totally forgotten about his unwanted shadow
whilst speaking to Richie. Quickly he covered his options. He couldn't
stay where he was. The intruding immortal might challenge Richie who
was in no state to fight. Similarly he didn't want to go back to the
dojo and lead trouble to MacLeod. Despite Connor and Amanda being
there, the Highlander would insist on fighting his own battles,
however unfit he was. Joe's was also a bad idea. Some immortals
considered mortals to be worthless toys, or even worse. No, this was
one problem that Methos would have to deal with himself. He could, at
least, lead this immortal away from his friends and if he had to fight
then he would be the one to choose the challenge ground.
Methos winced at the rain, which had started to fall and steeled
himself for a very long night. Turning slowly he started walking,
leading the unknown immortal away from his friends.
====================
The dawn was a welcome sight for one very tired immortal. For the last
few hours Methos had walked steadily around Seacouver, but had yet to
see the unknown immortal following him. He'd tried several ways of
catching his tail, ranging from walking straight through a well-lit
area with no obvious hiding places to leading him on a convoluted
route through dark winding back streets. Whoever it was, he was good,
Methos had to say that much, but challenging Methos was obviously not
in his game plan. Their night time wanderings had taken them past more
than one secluded site suitable for a challenge and Methos had even
tried sitting and waiting at one such site, but to no avail. Whoever
it was kept away, staying just out of sensing range until Methos began
to move again.
Now as light filled the cold grey sky, one very wet, tired and cold
immortal decided to risk returning to the dojo. There was little
choice left, he couldn't keep walking forever. He wondered if the
other immortal was as tired as he was, but somehow he doubted it. It
would be the height of stupidity to follow or challenge another
immortal when already exhausted. He strongly suspected that the other
had been leading a nocturnal life of late and was somewhat more awake.
Approaching the dojo he noticed a light on and hoped that Connor
rather than Duncan would be the one to greet him. He was in desperate
need of sleep, but didn't want to admit to Duncan that he'd been
followed all night. It would ruin his "looking after number one"
reputation. If he could speak to Connor then maybe the older
Highlander would be able to lead the other immortal away and perhaps
even get him to show himself. It wasn't much of a plan, but it was the
best he could do with so little time and resources.
Methos' slow progress towards the dojo suddenly stopped as he felt an
immortal presence return, much stronger and nearer than before.
Uncertain whether this immortal was a friend or the unknown, Methos
backed into an alley, slipped into the shadows and waited.
A figure appeared at the end of the alley silhouetted against the
early morning light. This was no friend. The immortal was not tall,
barely five and a half feet at most, with short dark hair. He stood
motionless, neither approaching nor retreating. Methos watched as he
slowly drew a long sword from the folds of his coat.
"It is time" the voice was cold, emotionless. There was no doubt in
Methos' mind that this was to be a challenge. "Show yourself,
youngster".
Methos almost laughed aloud. Youngster? Just who did the stranger
think he was about to challenge?
"You can't hide there for ever" the cold voice mocked.
Slowly and very deliberately Methos stepped out of the shadows and
faced the challenger. He did not draw his own broadsword although he
checked his coat was loose for easy access to the Ivanhoe. He didn't
think that there would be any nasty tricks, at least not yet. His
opponent believed him to be young and exhausted, and if he'd planned
on using underhand methods there'd been plenty of opportunity during
the long night he'd stalked him.
"Who are you?" Methos asked.
"Gavin Kramer" he replied coldly. "It is time."
"Why now?" Methos asked.
"Appropriate isn't it?" Kramer replied. "Dawn, the start of a new day,
a new beginning...and the same time you took his head!"
"Who's head?" Methos was puzzled. He knew he hadn't taken any heads
recently, but Kramer was obviously looking for someone who had. He
believed Methos was that someone and unless Methos did something to
disprove that very soon then the challenge would be made. Methos
really didn't want to take Kramer's head but he wasn't planning on
losing if things went that far.
"Jason Thomas" Kramer grated out. "He was my student, my friend, my
partner...and more, much more...and *you* killed him...for no
reason...except he was there...in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Now Methos was completely confused. Neither name meant anything to him
and he could hardly ask for a rain check while he checked the
Watcher's database. He was still thinking trying to think of a way to
stall, to find out the real story, when his time ran out. Kramer
removed his coat and stepped towards him with his sword at the ready.
"It wasn't me" Methos spoke quickly, but still removed his sword and
prepared for the coming fight. "We don't have to do..."
Methos broke off as Kramer stepped forward into his first attack
forcing him into a defensive move and thus starting the challenge.
This set the pattern for the next few minutes. Kramer took the
offensive, pushing, trying to break through Methos' guard. Methos let
his experience work for him, merely defending himself, leaving his
mind free to think and plan.
This was not a situation he wanted to be in. He really didn't want
Kramer's head but he had to finish this...soon. Gradually he brought
his mind back to concentrate on the fight. He had to find an opening,
a way to get through Kramer's guard. He needed to stop this, to kill
him...just not permanently. Once that was done then maybe they could
find out what this was all about.
As he blocked yet another thrust a plan formed in Methos' mind. Kramer
was good, by most immortal standards, but not as good as MacLeod. A
simple all out attack might not work. If anything went wrong he might
have to take Kramer's head and that would only be done as a last
resort. No, what he needed was a diversion, something to distract
Kramer long enough for a fatal blow. Unfortunately there was nothing
obvious in the alley he could use.
Inwardly sighing in resignation he decided that his best chance would
be to let Kramer get past his guard, taking a minor, he hoped, wound
in the process, whilst delivering a far more serious attack at the
same time. It was risky, very risky, but nothing ventured nothing
gained.
Both men were getting tired now and if this was to work it had to be
done quickly. Seeing his chance, as Kramer made a slightly wild
attack, Methos let the thrust through and felt the cold steel slice
into his left arm. At the same time he twisted and his broadsword
ripped across Kramer's torso, slicing through the relatively
unprotected vital organs. Kramer fell to his knees, blood pouring from
the open wound. His sword dropped from his hand as he clutched at his
guts.
Gripping his wounded arm Methos took a slow step back as he watched
his opponent fall. He guessed that with the rate at which he was
loosing blood he would be dead in less than a minute.
The buzz of an approaching immortal washed over them. Methos groaned
and started to turn to meet the intruder, hoping against hope that it
was one of the Highlanders. Suddenly he realised there was something
wrong. He'd expected his arm to hurt, but not this. He was gradually
loosing feeling in the damaged limb, and the numbness was spreading.
Not only had he lost the use of the arm, but now his shoulder was dead
too. An icy cold seemed to be spreading through his veins, creeping
inexorably towards his heart. Sudden panic flew through him as he
realised the probable cause. Horrified he stared at Kramer.
"Venom" Kramer gasped. "Fast acting...fatal...I'll heal first...your
head...is mine...Ryan."
"Ryan? But I'm not Ryan!" Suddenly Methos understood. He'd been
mistaken for Richie, and he could see why. He'd been seen at both
MacLeod's dojo and Richie's apartment in the last couple of days,
whereas Richie had been almost a recluse. "Damn you" Methos snarled at
him "Why didn't you just ask?" Kramer didn't hear as he fell face
first onto the blood soaked tarmac.
Realising that they were both now in serious danger of losing their
heads to the approaching immortal Methos tried to turn to leave but he
couldn't move. The numbness had spread and now his left leg was
paralysed. The movement unbalanced him and he fell to the floor on his
hands and knees. Struggling against the encroaching blackness he
forced his head around to see a slim figure watching their every move
from the head of the alley. Before he could identify the observer the
icy paralysis reached his heart stopping it in mid beat. Death was
instantaneous.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
9/13
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Richie walked slowly towards the dojo. Although it was still very
early and raining steadily he'd left his bike at home, deciding to
walk in an attempt to calm his nerves. Although he'd slept very little
since Adam's visit, at least he hadn't spent the entire night reliving
his ordeal in nightmarish visions. In fact he had slept quite well for
a couple of hours before his conscience had nagged him into unwanted
wakefulness. After a few hours staring into the darkness at nothing in
particular he'd come to some conclusions. The most pressing of these
was a definite need to see his mentor. What he was going to do when he
did he wasn't quite sure, but anything was better than leaving things
the way they were.
As he walked he thought back to the last time he'd seen Mac. He'd been
angry and frustrated and had taken it out on the nearest person and
the stubborn Highlander had stood his ground. After their somewhat
heated conversation he'd left the dojo. Mac had followed and then he'd
done it; he'd pulled his sword on Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod,
and he'd kept his head to tell the tale. A slow blush crept up his
neck as he remembered his actions. What a fool he must've looked. What
chance would he have had if his challenge had been taken seriously?
Fortunately surprise had helped him and Duncan had let him go before
he'd really realised what was happening.
Now, days later, he could look back and see his actions differently,
almost as if he'd been an observer. At the time he'd had no thoughts
other than his own pain and disgrace. He hadn't been able to see that
there was nothing he could've done to prevent what had happened. All
he'd seen was a victim, unable to defend even himself. Mac's almost
instinctive protectiveness had just made this worse and he'd done the
only thing he could think of at the time...run.
Since then Amanda and Adam had both visited him trying to stop his
destructive slide into self-pity and loathing. Amanda had shown him
that she didn't blame him and was proud of what he'd done to protect
her. Adam, well his short visit had changed his outlook and made him
look at things differently. He'd shown him that once a victim didn't
necessarily imply always a victim. Then he'd made him think about the
events from Mac's point of view and suddenly the over protective
actions seemed to change. No longer were they demeaning, but were more
an expression of guilt and relief. Richie wasn't sure he fully
understood his mentor's reactions, but at least now he was prepared to
talk, and more importantly to listen. All he had to do was to take
that last vital step. He had to go to the dojo and find Mac.
So here he was heading towards the familiar territory with a very
unfamiliar case of nerves. How would his mentor react? What would he
say? What would he do? So lost in thought was Richie that he was
almost on top of the alley before the distinctive sound of blades
clashing forced its way into his brain. Somewhere, close, two
immortals were fighting for their lives.
With a start Richie realised that he was unarmed, his Rapier still in
his other jacket. It'd never occurred to him to pick it up when he
left the apartment. What had he been thinking? A swordless immortal
was a headless one, unless he was very lucky. That was one of Mac's
earliest lessons, taught to even the newest immortal. How could he
have forgotten that? Did he truly value his life that little? A
growing sense of outrage filled Richie's mind and for the first time
since Ulick had brutalised him he began to understand what the damage
had really been. No matter how young or green he might be he had the
same rights as any other immortal and as far as he could see there
were only two choices. He could either prepare to and when necessary
fight, or simply declare himself worthless and wait for some immortal
to take his head. New resolve filled him. He wasn't ready to die yet.
Richie turned his head from left to right, trying to locate the
combatants. Gradually the sounds led him to the dark alley. Staring
into the darkness Richie strained to see, to identify the immortals
involved. For a brief moment he registered only a tall figure and
irrational fear for Mac's safety rushed through him. The Highlander
couldn't die, not now, not before they had settled their differences.
Slowly the rest of the scene filtered in and he realised the true
identity of the taller man.
Richie watched in shock as Kramer's wild thrust apparently slipped
past Adam's guard, and ripped into the taller immortal's arm. Just as
quickly he realised the real intention of the move, Adam's own
broadsword slicing the unknown immortal almost in two. As Kramer sank
to the ground he saw Adam start to turn towards him, obviously sensing
his buzz. Suddenly he became aware that Adam was in trouble. His
movements appeared awkward and almost uncoordinated. There was clearly
more than an arm wound affecting him.
"Venom" Richie heard the stranger gasp. "Fast acting...fatal...I'll
heal first...your head...is mine...Ryan." What the hell? Richie
couldn't believe he'd heard that right. Adam had taken a fight for
him, after all he'd said about picking up the pieces and rebuilding
his life? Richie had trusted Adam and yet, here he was doing exactly
what Mac had, trying to protect him.
"Ryan? But I'm not Ryan!" Adam's puzzled question stopped Richie's
thoughts dead in their tracks. Now he was totally confused. Adam
didn't know that this stranger thought he was fighting him? Just what
had happened here?
"Damn you" Richie heard Adam snarl. "Why didn't you just ask?" He
watched, in fascination, as first the stranger and then Adam fell to
the wet ground and lay still.
Now all seemed quiet Richie walked down the alley to where the
immortals were lying. Quickly he checked the unknown immortal,
convincing himself that he would not revive for several minutes from
the gut wound Adam had inflicted. Still not recognising him and
needing to know who he was Richie carefully searched his coat pockets
looking for some form of identification. He found none. Deciding that
he would just have to wait and ask this stranger when he woke, Richie
picked up the dropped sword, being careful to hold it by the hilt only
and carried it with him to where Adam lay. Placing it on the ground by
him, within easy reach, he switched his attentions to Adam.
If what he had over-heard was correct then Adam had been poisoned and
certainly the angry red skin tone surrounding the cut in his arm
showed that something was unusual about the wound. Gently Richie
shifted the limp body into the shadows and arranged it in as
comfortable a position as possible. Retrieving Adam's dropped
broadsword and placing it inside his own jacket Richie returned his
attentions to his mysterious challenger, still wondering who he was
and what he wanted Richie for.
"Poison" Richie said to himself, unaware that he'd spoken aloud. "Why
me? Why did he have to cheat?" Unable to answer these or any other
questions, at least not yet, Richie again picked up the stranger's
sword and then ripped several pieces from his bloodied coat. Being
careful to touch only the hilt, he used the rags to wipe clean the
sharpened edges until he was sure all traces of the poison were
removed. This done he placed the weapon back where he'd first found it
next to its owner. When he revived this unknown immortal would get the
chance to challenge Richie if he wanted. Only this time the fight
would be fair. Satisfied that he had done all he could Richie settled
down to wait.
====================
A groan brought Richie's attention back to the figure lying a few
yards away. Silently drawing Adam's Ivanhoe he stayed just out of the
nameless immortal's sight, waiting, watching to see what he would do.
As he'd hoped the stranger seemed unaware of his presence, the
disorientation which so often accompanied death and revival having
confused his memories so that he didn't remember Richie's arrival.
Indeed it would appear he assumed the immortal buzz was coming from
the still very dead Adam.
As Richie watched he struggled to his feet and reached for the sword
Richie had carefully placed back where it had fallen. Unsteadily he
made his way to where Adam was lying and gave the prone body a solid
kick. Seeing no reaction he raised his sword and brought it down
towards Adam's exposed neck.
Richie had seen all he needed to. Even as this unidentified immortal
raised his sword to strike Richie was moving to intercept the downward
sweep with the Ivanhoe. By the time the still rather shaky immortal
had registered Richie's presence he was pushed against the nearest
wall with the edge of the broadsword against his throat.
"Where in the rules does it mention the use of poison?" Richie asked
angrily. "Or taking your opponent's head when he's dead?"
"He deserves it!" Richie didn't recognise the voice.
"Why?" Richie asked, increasing the pressure of the sword against the
other's throat. "What did he do?"
"He killed my partner...in cold blood." By now the other immortal was
gasping for air and Richie let the pressure ease a little. "We were in
Europe, Spain. He met Jason in a bar one night. Jason came home all
excited about this young, mentorless immortal. Wanted me to train him.
The following morning he set off to meet him, to bring him to me. He
never came back." The stranger stopped speaking, drawing a shaky
breath before continuing. "Ryan took his head for no reason. I've been
hunting him ever since."
Richie thought quickly. Spain...Jason...? Yes, now he remembered Jason
Thomas...although he was much older than Richie, he still appeared
young and very enthusiastic...like a less cynical version of himself.
They'd become friends very quickly and arranged to meet the next day,
but Richie had never kept that appointment. Now if only he could
remember... Damn...Martin Hyde! Suddenly things became clear...all of
them. It was a time he preferred to forget. That was the night Hyde
had found him and started his pursuit. Over the next few weeks he'd
chased Richie to Paris...back to MacLeod. Richie had never kept that
appointment because by then he'd already left town, running and
hiding. So, if he hadn't killed Jason who had? Probably Hyde himself.
Although Jason wasn't as old as he normally liked his prey he was no
green youngster. This stranger probably had no idea that a fourth
immortal had been in town and had jumped to the obvious conclusion.
"Now Ryan must die." Richie's thoughts were interrupted by the other
immortal.
"What if he didn't do it?" Richie asked frantically stalling for time,
trying to prevent the inevitable.
"He did" the reply was short and to the point.
"But what if..."
"No more questions!" The stranger pushed against the sword trying to
throw Richie clear. "Ryan dies here and now."
"But he isn't Ryan" Richie almost shouted. "He's called Adam, Adam
Pierson."
"Names are easily changed" the nameless immortal commented nastily.
"He is Ryan. I followed him yesterday. He visited the Highlander and
then went home. When he left later I followed him again. I followed
him all night until the time was right."
"He isn't Ryan" Richie was finding it hard to control his temper. This
stranger had been trailing Adam ever since he'd left his apartment
hours ago. The older immortal must have been exhausted even before the
fight started.
"How do you know?" the unknown immortal snapped. "He could be lying to
you too."
Richie took a step back, removed the Ivanhoe from the stranger's
throat. Holding it in front of him, ready for use he spoke coldly "I
know...and he doesn't need to lie to me...because *I'm* Ryan."
For a second the unidentified immortal froze and then he moved,
grabbing his sword and bringing it up ready. Richie had been ready for
this move and simply stood his ground, sword ready.
"You bastard" he shouted. "Why did you do it? What did he ever do to
you?"
"I didn't..." Richie started but was interrupted.
"You were the only other immortal there. It must've been you" the
stranger snapped.
"It wasn't me" Richie started to try to explain "Martin Hyde was
there. He..."
"Never heard of him." He wasn't going to be persuaded. Since Jason's
death he'd lived for this moment and this moment alone.
"He took Jason's head, not me" Richie tried one more time as the
stranger advanced slowly towards him. "I wasn't there that morning.
He'd already driven me out of town."
"NO" The first lunging attack was made and the fight started. Richie
parried the wild thrusts easily, the extra weight of Adam's broadsword
feeling strange after his own much lighter Rapier, but not totally
unknown. Duncan had ensured he tried many swords of different sizes
and weights, as you never knew when you might need to use someone
else's. However, the unfamiliarity was working against Richie and he
was forced backwards by the violence of the assault.
No further words were spoken, both men's minds fully engaged on the
fight. It soon became clear that his attacker was better than Richie,
more experienced and stronger, but he was angry and out of control.
Richie, being smaller and lighter, had the advantage of speed and
manoeuvrability, and he was in better control of his emotions. The
overall result was a very evenly matched fight, which could go either
way.
The initial assault over, the two combatants circled each other,
looking for openings or weaknesses, some way to get past the other's
guard. Back and forth they moved, neither one managing to gain the
upper hand. The fight continued in this manner, clashes of steel and
grunts of effort echoing in the deserted alley until finally Richie's
luck seemed to run out. Stepping back to avoid another strong thrust
from the heavier man he lost his footing on the wet ground and
stumbled. A desperate twist prevented the sword from striking its
intended target leaving instead a deep gash across Richie's left hip.
Blood poured from the wound as Richie scrambled to get clear, to deny
his challenger that final sword stoke.
Instantly he drew first blood the stranger stepped back and watched
the younger immortal, as if waiting for something to happen. Richie,
struggling to regain his balance with one leg now useless, couldn't
understand. He should be moving in for the kill, not giving his
opponent time to recover, and yet that was exactly what he was doing.
Unless...of course, Richie suddenly realised what was happening. Damn
him! His unidentified challenger had never planned to win using his
fighting skills alone. His plan was simply to wound, as he had Adam,
then to allow the venom to act for him. He hadn't noticed that Richie
had cleaned his blade and there was no venom present. Such tricks were
outside the rules, but in this case could be turned back against their
user.
Remembering what he'd observed when he'd first entered the alley
Richie held his damaged leg totally still, letting the other man
believe that the venom was spreading through his blood, paralysing as
it went. Playing for time, allowing his hip to begin healing, but
being careful to keep the healing hidden from his challenger, Richie
gradually held more and more of his body still, trying to imitate what
he'd seen happen to Adam. Despite the healing he was loosing a lot of
blood from his hip and needed to finish this, quickly. Keeping Adam's
sword in hand he allowed his knees to buckle, crashing to the floor
with a jarring impact that hurt even though he was expecting it.
As soon as he fell his nameless attacker moved, coming towards him a
vicious gloating smile on his face. "How does it feel to be helpless,
young Ryan? Is this what you did to Jason? You must've done something
similar. You could never have beaten him fairly, *child*."
"I didn't kill him" Richie gasped, the pain and fear in his voice not
all feigned. The stranger's inadvertent use of the same dismissive
term that Ulick had taunted him with shook him. For a brief moment
Richie was no longer in a dark alley fighting for his life but chained
against a wall whilst he was brutally assaulted. Quickly Richie took a
deep breath, desperately trying to calm himself. He knew that if he
let old terrors distract him, he was as good as dead. What was needed
now was total and complete concentration. It was time to put Ulick and
his 'pleasures' behind him. Looking up again he faced the older
immortal with fresh resolve.
"Save it" he was taunted again. "Or tell it to your God when you see
him."
"Stop, please. I can prove I didn't kill him" Richie continued. He
knew what he would have to do, but he really didn't want to have to
take anyone's head if he could avoid it.
"Never" his attacker snarled. "You killed him and I'll die before I'll
let you live!" Slowly he lifted his sword for the killing blow.
As the sword started to fall Richie moved. For the second time in less
than an hour the Ivanhoe interrupted the other immortal's killing
stroke, only this time he didn't block the blade directly. Rolling
under the swinging blade, onto his undamaged right hip, Richie thrust
the broadsword upwards piercing through the stranger's recently healed
guts and ending with the point deeply embedded in his heart. A look of
disbelief crossed the older immortal's face before his sword fell from
his lifeless fingers and he collapsed onto all fours. Richie pulled
the blade clear of the body, continuing to roll until he was kneeling
beside it. With his left hand he pushed the strangers sword away out
of his opponent's reach.
"Will you listen to me now? Richie gasped. "I...didn't...kill...him!"
"Never" the dying immortal grated. "I'll hunt you forever! You or me,
there can be only one!"
Richie had no choice. This would never be over. His challenger was
never going to listen. He had to end it here, today. He raised the
broadsword high, then let it fall, severing the nameless neck in one
clean stroke.
This last expenditure of effort was too much for Richie's weakened
body and he fell forwards, the rate of blood loss too great to sustain
consciousness. He never saw the quickening gather, nor the first arcs
of energy as they sought and entered his unconscious body.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
10/13
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Connor was alone in the loft. He stood and watched as rain fell
steadily from the cold grey skies. Although it was a couple of hours
after dawn the heavy cloud kept the overall light level low, leaving
dark corners in the cramped alleys and streets. There were very few
passers-by, it still being too early for the general populace to up
and about. Indeed this was part of the reason that Connor was alone.
Duncan's frustration and restlessness had been driving both Amanda and
Connor crazy. He'd desperately needed to go out for a run, to burn off
some of this pent up energy, but he'd refused to leave the dojo, just
in case Richie called. Eventually they'd convinced Duncan that if
Richie was going to appear it wouldn't be this early in the morning.
Duncan still hadn't entirely trusted their motives, obviously
remembering that Amanda had used this same excuse previously and then
disappeared to places unknown while he was gone. Despite all his
efforts she still wouldn't tell him where she'd been. As a result he'd
refused to leave unless they went with him. It had taken some
negotiating before he'd finally agreed that Connor could stay behind,
to monitor the phone and any visitors, but he'd stuck firm where
Amanda was concerned. The look on Amanda's face as she was led out
into the cold, wet morning had been priceless. Even thinking about it
brought a smile to Connor's face.
Now Connor was waiting. He knew that Adam had been planning to see
Richie the previous night and he hadn't yet returned. Even if he'd
then gone to spend the night at Joe's he should've been back by now.
Connor was just as worried as Adam appeared to be about his clansman
and his student. Adam knew this and promised to let him know what had
been said. This was the main reason why Connor had needed to stay
behind, but there was something else he wanted to ask this immortal
who called himself Adam. For someone who Duncan had told him publicly
declared that he looked after no one but himself, he seemed very
protective of the younger Highlander. Connor remembered that at the
airport Adam had referred to Duncan as his 'saviour'. What was going
on in this relative stranger's mind? Connor wanted to know. He was
just as protective towards his own favourite student as Duncan was of
Richie.
A brief flash of light from outside the window drew his attention.
Suddenly very alert Connor scanned the area he could see from the
window. The weather wasn't the right kind to produce thunderstorms.
With a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach he watched until he
saw a second flash, coming from a nearby alley. There was little doubt
in his mind as to what he was seeing. Some immortal had just lost his
head, and with the exception of Duncan and his friends there were damn
few in Seacouver to choose from. Dreading what he might find he headed
down the fire escape and ran in the direction of the quickening.
By the time he reached the alley the visual display was over, but it
was unmistakably the correct location. Broken glass littered the floor
and the smell of ozone was still strong enough to block out the less
pleasant aromas found in such places. Drawing his own sword he stepped
out. The dim grey light of the morning did little to illuminate the
alley and it was with some effort that Connor managed to make out the
shapes of three bodies lying on the ground. Three bodies? What had
happened? And exactly who'd received the quickening he'd seen? Slowly
he made his way towards the nearest body, which was set apart from the
others and propped against the wall.
Even before he got close he recognised Adam. A gentle prod with his
toe produced no response and a quick check revealed the cold skin and
lack of pulse. This surprised Connor, as, despite the amount of blood
staining his clothes and skin, there were no major wounds visible. In
fact the only obvious sign of his having recently been involved in a
fight was a minor cut to his left arm. This was healing, but slowly,
too slowly. Puzzled but not unduly worried Connor continued his survey
moving to the other two bodies.
Both lay face down on the wet road and were covered in blood. The
nearest was soon revealed as the source of the quickening, the head
lying close to the severed neck. Using his foot again Connor rolled
the head so he could see the face of this dead immortal. A sense of
relief flooded through him as he realised that whoever this had been,
he was a total stranger. This time, at least, the electrical display
of the quickening hadn't been brought about by the death of a friend.
Finally Connor moved to the last body. Again he used the toe of his
shoe to check for any signs of life before rolling the body over.
Richie's young face looked more peaceful in death than Connor
remembered seeing him at any other time. A quick check revealed the
probable cause of death as shock from lack of blood. The deep wound on
his hip was rapidly healing but the stains on his jeans and the pool
of blood under him testified as to the amount he'd lost. Connor had
little doubt as to who had taken the quickening. From the obviously
recent wound and positions of the bodies it would appear Richie had
bested the stranger, despite taking a fatal wound in the process. The
big question was how had Adam been injured and why was he taking so
long to heal.
These and other questions would have to wait. Time was getting on and
there would be greater numbers of people in the streets soon. Quickly
Connor dragged Richie across to sit next to Adam, arranging them to
look like a couple of drunks to any casual observer. Provided no one
got close enough to see the blood they should be safe. Next Connor
returned to the less pleasant task of removing and hiding the body.
Once this job was completed he started to think about how they were to
get back to the safety of the dojo. A quick look at his watch told him
that Duncan wouldn't be back anytime soon, so they were on their own.
He couldn't risk leaving them where they were while he fetched a car.
Someone might find them and see the blood, or worse still see one or
both of them revive. No, that was just not an option. Connor would
have to find a way to get them both to safety. He was just
contemplating what clothing, if any, could pass unnoticed through the
streets when he felt a returning buzz and brought his attention back
to the reviving immortal.
Richie woke with a gasp, trying to sort the confused memories into
some form of order. His initial reaction, trying to move, was quickly
shown to be the wrong one. Pain lanced through his hip causing the
world to spin around him for a few seconds and he rapidly closed his
eyes again.
"Careful, young one." Richie heard the calm voice but although it was
familiar he couldn't immediately identify its owner. "Let your body
heal first."
Richie managed to take a deep breath and the world gradually reduced
its nauseating rotation. "Connor?" he whispered as his fogged brain
finally managed to make the connection between the voice and the name.
"That's right" Connor replied with a sharp laugh.
Richie forced his eyes open again, pleased to find that this time the
world stayed exactly where it was supposed to. He glanced around him,
surprised to find himself sitting next to the still dead Adam Pierson
and no sign of his challenger. "What happened?" he asked in a much
steadier voice.
"I thought that was my line!" Connor replied amusement still evident
in his tone.
"No...I meant...where..."
Deciding that he'd get no sense out of Richie unless he told his story
first, Connor explained, "I saw the quickening. By the time I got here
all three of you were dead." Connor saw the next question in Richie's
eyes before he even asked it. "Don't worry, I've taken care of the
body. We have to get you back to the dojo, though. Before anyone sees
you like this."
"Adam?" Richie asked.
"Still dead, and not healing properly" Connor said briefly.
"Damn him" Richie cursed. "He used some form of venom to poison Adam."
"Venom? That might explain the slow healing" Connor mused aloud. "Can
you stand yet?"
Shakily Richie climbed to his feet and tested his now almost
completely healed hip. "I'll do," he said.
"Good we need to get Adam out of sight without attracting attention."
Connor slipped his coat off and handed it to Richie. "Take your jacket
and shirt off and wear this. That should hide most of the blood on
your jeans."
Richie looked surprised, but did as asked. Once he had his shirt off
Connor took it and moved to where Adam was propped. Quickly he removed
Adam's blood soaked shirt replacing it with Richie's less damaged one.
He pushed the bottom of the shirt into Adam's jeans hiding the
bloodstains around the hem, thankful that Adam's colour of choice was
black.
Connor tore a couple of relatively clean pieces from the shirt he
held, handed one to Richie and kept the other in his hand. Carefully
he used this cloth to wipe over Adam's face, removing as much of the
blood as he could. Seeing what the older immortal was doing Richie
used his piece to clean his own face. Richie's jacket was totally
ruined and Connor threw it into the nearest dumpster along with the
remnants of Adam's shirt. Richie watched in silence, glad he had
chosen not to wear his favourite leather jacket. This done, Connor
looked them both over.
"Now what?" Richie asked.
"Now, we're jush a couple of drunksh, and one dead drunk, goin' home"
Connor slurred.
Richie couldn't help laughing. Together the two men collected the two
swords lying on the floor, placing them both with Connor's own inside
his coat for the short walk to the dojo. Next Connor hoisted Adam off
the floor, draped Adam's right arm over his left shoulder and waited
for Richie to take his place on Adam's other side. Slowly they started
to walk, Connor deliberately staggering as they went, encouraging
Richie to do the same.
"So" Richie asked as he got into the swing of things, "just how many
drinking songs have you learnt in 450 years?"
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
11/13
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Ten minutes later they were safely ensconced in the loft. Their luck
had held. The only person who'd seen them took one look at the three
apparently 'inebriated' men, crossed the road and walked away as fast
as possible, showing absolutely no interest in their various forms of
undress. Still it was a relief to be back in the relative safety of
familiar surroundings.
"Come and get cleaned up, Richie" Connor ordered, as he appeared from
the bathroom carrying several towels and a sponge. "I'll see what I
can do with Adam."
Richie dragged himself up from the chair he'd collapsed into and made
his way slowly towards the shower. Once Richie had disappeared in to
the bathroom, Connor filled a bucket with hot water and made his way
to the bed. Gently he stripped off the shirt and began trying to
remove the worst of the blood from the unresisting form that they'd
laid there. Two buckets later he'd done all he could. He threw the bed
spread over Adam then settled down to wait.
Richie reappeared briefly, wearing Duncan's robe, before heading
downstairs to find the spare clothes he kept in his locker. Once he
was dressed in his own sweats he joined Connor, who was sitting at the
end of the bed watching the still not yet revived Adam.
"Why is it taking so long?" Richie asked.
"I'm not sure" Connor replied honestly. "Whatever that venom was has
slowed his healing to a crawl. Look!" Connor showed Richie the wounded
arm. It was definitely healing, but very slowly. "At this rate it'll
be several hours until he wakes."
"He was fighting my challenge, protecting me." Richie spoke quietly
but the accusation was easy to hear. "Whoever he was, he thought that
Adam was me."
"Did he know that?" Connor indicated the figure on the bed.
"I'm not sure." Richie thought back to those few intense moments. "I
don't think so. When he called him Ryan, right at the end of their
fight, Adam seemed surprised."
"So he didn't know he was taking your challenge then?" Connor asked
forcing Richie to at least consider that possibility.
"I don't know...I guess it's possible." Richie was silent for a
moment. "So if Adam didn't know that he was looking for me...then..."
"He was probably just protecting himself" Connor finished for the
younger man.
Richie looked at Adam. "He looks so young. I wonder how old he really
is."
Connor was surprised at the sudden change of subject but went with it.
Richie would talk when he was ready; there would be no pushing him.
"You don't know?"
"No, not exactly" Richie replied. "He did admit that he's older than
Mac, closer to Amanda's age, but that's all I know."
"Does Duncan know?" Connor asked, his protective streak showing where
Duncan's choice of friends was concerned.
"He might...I think...probably...but he's never told me." Richie
replied. "Why are you so interested?"
Connor thought about lying, but decided that this might be exactly
what Richie needed to hear, to get him talking. "I'm always interested
in any immortals who hang around Duncan...especially older ones."
"Why"
"He's too trusting at times" Connor replied. "I don't want him to lose
his head because of that."
"You're trying to protect him" Richie realised.
"Of course," Connor replied, "all mentors do. But don't tell him
that."
"But he's Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod" Richie sounded shocked.
"Yes he is" Connor replied with a smile. "But he's still my favourite
student."
Richie was silent, thinking about what Connor had just said. The idea
that Connor was protecting Duncan was almost overwhelming, almost as
much as the idea that Duncan needed protecting.
"Then..." Richie trailed off, unable to voice all he was feeling.
"Richie, all mentors try to protect their students" Connor began
explaining. "It's not unusual. We all do it. It doesn't matter how
good your student is."
"Then when Mac..." Richie spoke aloud trying to get his racing
thoughts into some kind of order. "I mean...I hate it when Mac tries
to protect me. It makes me feel so...useless...as if I'll never be any
good. I know I'm young, but I'm not a kid anymore."
"And Duncan knows that, Richie" Connor continued. "At least his mind
does. His heart tells him something else. The hardest thing to learn
about being a mentor is when to let go." Connor laughed briefly. "Even
I'm still learning that!"
"Then you're still trying to protect him?" Richie asked.
Connor laughed again "Why do you think he was late for that fight with
Slan Quince?" At Richie's startled look he continued, "Yes, we both
knew you were there, your own pre immortal buzz gave you away." Richie
still looked confused, after all he'd had a lot to come to terms with
over the last few days. Connor took pity on him and explained. "Duncan
was late because he was still recovering. I picked a fight with him
and then sucker punched him. He was out cold when you hitched a ride
in my car. I planned to take Quince myself, before Duncan arrived. It
would've worked too."
"If Quince hadn't been packing a rocket launching sword" Richie added
laughing now himself. The idea of Duncan being laid out cold by Connor
was very amusing to the younger immortal. "Does he know why you did
it?"
"Possibly, although I swore that it was because I wanted Quince's
head." Connor waited to see if Richie would say more. Certainly their
conversation appeared to have helped. Richie was no longer angry with
Adam, and seemed to be less so with Duncan. He'd obviously never
really thought about the events that night from that point of view.
Probably far too interested in the events themselves, Connor mused,
since that night had been Richie's first experience of both immortal
sword fighting and revival.
An immortal buzz broke both their trains of thought. In unison they
looked towards the figure on the bed in time to see it jerk and take
in a convulsive gasp of air. Adam had finally revived.
====================
The first thing Methos felt was pain. His entire body ached; every
muscle was cramped; his nerves felt like they were on fire. Each beat
of his heart or laboured intake of breath sent a stabbing pain through
him. What had he been doing to feel like this? Lying as still as
possible and keeping his eyes shut, he began to assess his
surroundings and situation. He was lying on something soft and there
was some form of cover over him. Good start, most prisons didn't have
such niceties. Continuing his assessment he became aware of voices,
familiar voices, and realised they were speaking to him.
"Adam...we're safe." That was Richie.
"You're in the loft, Adam." Connor's voice this time.
Slowly he forced his eyes open, blinking several times. Even the dull
light filtering through the window from the grey Seacouver skies
proving too much. Connor reached out and touched the now almost
totally healed arm. White-hot pain blazed through Methos' nerves and
he jerked away from the other immortal's touch.
"Don't!" Connor heard the pain in Methos' voice and instantly pulled
back.
"What is it?" he asked.
"Not sure" Methos replied tensely as he tried to keep the pain at a
bearable level. "Like...pins and needles...all over...but worse."
"It must be the venom" Richie guessed.
"Yes" Connor replied. "I think it must have affected his nervous
system."
"Whatever it did it was quick." Richie commented. "It only took
seconds to paralyse him."
Methos thought back and the events of the fight became clear. He
remembered the coldness spreading through his body from his wounded
arm. That must be it. Whatever the venom had been it seemed to work on
the nerves, affecting not only his movement, but also his pain
receptors.
"Lie still" Connor advised. "Let your body purge it from your system."
"I...haven't got...any...other plans...right now." Methos replied.
Connor and Richie watched as flashes of pain crossed Adam's face.
Gradually these seemed to reduce in intensity and duration.
"Better?" Connor asked.
"Some" Methos' voice sounded a little less strained. "I guess I feel
slightly singed now, instead of feeling like I'm being burnt alive."
Connor gave a short laugh and even Richie had to grin at that.
"Richie, why don't you go find Adam a drink?" Connor said. Whilst
Richie was in the kitchen Connor helped a now rapidly recovering
Methos to sit up. By the time Richie returned he was able to take
several sips of the water being offered.
"What happened, Adam?" Richie asked. "Why did you take on my challenge?"
Methos looked at Richie, surprised not to see anger in the younger
man's eyes. He didn't know what had been said between the two
immortals who'd rescued him, or even the events leading to that rescue
yet, but he'd expected Richie to be more resentful of his part in it.
"I didn't" he replied carefully. "I thought he was after Mac."
"What?" the other two asked at the same time. "Just what did you think
you were doing?"
"Kramer, Gavin Kramer, followed me yesterday evening when I left here.
I could sense him, but he never got close enough for me to see."
Methos looked at Richie looking for signs of recognition in his eyes
but saw none. "After I left you I felt his buzz again. I decided to
try and lead him away from you and Mac. Neither of you have had an
easy week. I didn't want you taking a challenge unrested and
unprepared. He followed me all night, despite several perfect
opportunities to challenge." Methos looked at Connor and continued "I
was leading him here, hoping you would help me. I thought that between
us we could perhaps corner him and see what he wanted. I was just too
tired to out think him alone."
"What happened?" Richie asked. "How did you get him to fight?"
"I didn't...well not exactly" Methos explained. "He was waiting for
the 'exact' time that he believed you took his friend Jason Thomas'
head. If I'd known that I could've gone and got some sleep and been
more awake for the challenge. Then I wouldn't have had to resort to
such drastic measures."
"You mean taking a hit, to score a greater one?" Richie queried.
"Yes" Methos replied "You saw that?"
"That was about when I arrived. I saw you kill him and heard what was
said, but then you collapsed yourself."
"Ah, so it *was* you I felt" Methos responded. "I thought it must've
been when I revived back here. What were you doing out so early?"
"I was on my way here to see Mac" Richie replied.
Connor's sharp laugh caused them both to look at him. "And to think I
convinced Duncan to go running, by saying you'd never visit this
early."
For a moment all three immortals shared in the humour of the
situation.
"What happened after that?" Methos asked still smiling. "I seem to
have missed things?"
"Kramer?" Richie checked the name and Methos nodded "Well, you were
both dead but before I could do anything Kramer started to revive. I
stayed out of sight and watched what he did." Richie paused then added
"He would've killed you where you lay. I couldn't let him do that...to
anyone...but especially not since he thought you were me. I didn't
have my rapier...it was still at home in my jacket. I used your
Ivanhoe to stop him. We fought and I took him."
Richie stopped speaking. Connor and Methos exchanged glances before
Connor took the plunge and asked "Did you kill Thomas?"
"No!" Richie sounded saddened. "We met in Spain. We could've been
friends. Before we had a chance I had to leave town...fast."
"What happened?" Connor had to ask, but Methos had a growing suspicion
that he already knew the answer.
"Martin Hyde" Richie replied. "He chased me back to Mac, killing
mortals along the way; making it look like me. I guess he thought one
immortal wouldn't make any difference."
"We can check, but I suspect you're right" Methos said quietly. "We'll
ask Joe later. What happened after that? How did I get here? Did you
bring me?"
"Not exactly" Richie answered. "I was rather dead at the time."
"What?" Methos sounded surprised.
"I saw the quickening and went to investigate" Connor explained. "All
three of you were dead. I dealt with Kramer, then when Richie revived
we brought you back here."
"I'm glad you did...I do so hate public scenes." Methos' smart arse
comment got the other two laughing again. He swung his legs off the
bed and stood slowly, testing the muscles as he did so. "Now, I really
need to get properly cleaned up, and then find some food. I don't know
about you but I'm starving."
"I'm hungry too" Richie piped up.
Connor laughed. "You're always hungry, young one. OK, you get a
shower, Adam, and you find him something clean to wear, Richie. I'll
go and see what I can find to eat in this establishment." The three
immortals stood and went about their various tasks, each glad to have
survived another encounter with their own kind.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
12/13
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Methos leaned back in his seat and watched as Richie and Connor
finished eating. The three immortals had talked while they ate, simply
enjoying each other's company, glad to be alive. The main subject of
their talk had been the younger Highlander. Connor had many tales to
tell about the exploits of young Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod.
Privately Methos wondered what Duncan would have to say to Connor when
he found out exactly what stories he'd given Richie to use as
ammunition.
Still it was probably worth it. Richie looked more relaxed than he had
in days. Methos suspected that this was Connor's intention. Certainly
the laughter at his mentor's expense seemed to have taken Richie's
mind off the awkwardness of the coming encounter. Instead of the
previous dread it appeared as if he was almost anticipating it now.
As Connor started yet another tale of Duncan's naivety Methos turned
his mind to the next hurdle. Duncan and Amanda would be back soon. How
was he to ensure that this meeting went smoothly? Hopefully both would
be in a better frame of mind than when they last met. A repeat of the
sword incident wouldn't help the situation any.
The beginnings of an idea formed in Methos' mind. He wanted to ensure
neither Duncan or Richie realised that the other was here until they
were face to face. Yes, this could work. He was sure this would work.
All he needed to do was to explain what he wanted Connor to do,
without alerting Richie.
====================
Leaving Connor and Richie clearing and washing the used plates, Methos
followed his scheme and found an excuse to go down to the dojo. He
would wait there for Duncan and Amanda to return. If he and Connor
could pull this off Duncan and Richie should be alone together before
they even realised it. This was important. They'd all worked hard over
the last couple of days to help these two relax and begin to
understand both their own and the other's feelings. It was essential
that they were honest with each other, and any anticipation could give
one or both the time to put up the walls again.
While he waited Methos relaxed in one of his favourite meditation
poses. Although he knew his body had completely removed all traces of
the venom, the memory of his unpleasant awakening stayed with him and
he imagined he could feel every nerve tingling. He wasn't going to
forget the feeling of that awful paralysis spreading through his body
in a hurry. He'd hoped that some time spent in meditation would settle
the incident into his memory, but it wasn't to be. He guessed that the
part of his mind which was alert, expecting the return of Duncan and
Amanda, wasn't going to let him.
His thoughts were disturbed by the anticipated buzz. Always one to be
careful he checked his broadsword was within easy reach, then closed
his eyes and settled back into position, to any observers, looking
like a man intent on his meditations.
Duncan led the way into the dojo where he stopped and looked at
Methos. Feeling eyes upon him, Methos opened his own and gazed at the
Highlander in return. What he saw pleased him. The tension that had
been visible in the younger man's shoulders for days had gone. The run
had clearly been exactly what he needed.
"Methos" Duncan smiled, much to Methos' satisfaction, "When did you
get back?"
"Oh, a while ago" Methos returned the smile. "Long enough to eat
breakfast. Connor's upstairs waiting for you."
As Duncan headed for the elevator Methos reached out and touched
Amanda's arm. "Stay here" he said quietly, too quietly for Duncan to
hear.
"You coming Amanda?" Duncan asked, his hand on the elevator gate.
"Not yet," she replied watching Methos carefully, wondering what he
had planned, "I'll catch you up."
Duncan looked surprised, but decided not to question her. Whatever
Amanda was doing Methos didn't look overly bothered by it. After five
thousand years he'd probably found more ways than most to fend off
unwanted female attentions; even those of women like Amanda.
Duncan pulled down the gate and hit the button. As the elevator rose
he felt the presence of another immortal wash over him. Remembering
that Methos had told him Connor was in the loft he turned ready to
greet his clansman. Gradually he realised something was wrong, the
buzz felt strong...too strong...as if...as if there were more than one
immortal present. Of its own volition his right hand reached for the
hilt of the katana inside his coat.
====================
Connor looked at his watch and wondered, not for the first time, where
Duncan could be. It wasn't that he was running out of stories about
his former student, far from it, but Richie wasn't stupid and would
soon realise that he was being manipulated. Given his current state of
mind that was the last thing he needed.
It had seemed so easy when Adam asked him to keep Richie in the loft,
wait for the elevator to start and then beat a hasty retreat. His
coat, with his sword in its customary place, was already close to the
door. Adam had said that unless there was a quickening in the dojo the
next time the elevator moved it would contain one stubborn Scot.
Connor finished yet another story. The rattle of the gate downstairs
and the sounds of the elevator mechanism moving were the signs he was
waiting for.
"That must be Adam" Richie commented.
"You can never be too careful," Connor replied, smiling slightly as he
spoke.
Swiftly Connor stood and walked to where his coat was lying. Picking
it up he reached for the familiar hilt of his sword. Despite Adam's
assurances Connor wanted to be certain that Duncan was returning to
the loft alone. Carefully he looked round the corner of the shaft,
waiting for the occupant to come into view.
Even as Connor saw the long dark hair and the Celtic clasp holding it
he was moving. Swiftly and silently he returned his sword to his coat
and slipped out of the door.
Richie watched all this in rapidly growing confusion. His own rapier
was still at his apartment where he'd left it but Duncan kept several
swords in the loft. He'd checked the proximity of the nearest as soon
as he felt the immortal buzz but hadn't retrieved it. Somehow with
Connor there and obviously checking for himself who was approaching,
it seemed, well, sort of pretentious. After all this was Connor
MacLeod of the clan MacLeod who had taught Duncan MacLeod. If Richie
still held Duncan in admiration, which he did, then Connor was held in
nothing less than awe.
Before Richie realised what was happening Connor was gone, leaving
Richie alone to meet the newcomer. He stood, facing the elevator,
ready to face his fate. The figure of his mentor came into view.
Duncan's right hand was inside his coat, his fingers no doubt touching
the katana's hilt.
The elevator stopped and for a brief moment neither moved, each very
aware of the other, but uncertain how to proceed. Duncan was the first
to recover. He deliberately released his grip on the katana and used
his right hand to raise the gate, trying to show Richie that whatever
had happened the last time they met, there was no fight between them.
Richie remained perfectly still, watching as Duncan stepped into the
loft. Duncan in turn observed Richie. Carefully he removed his coat
hanging it in its usual place before continuing towards the younger
man. He stopped just out of arm's reach, looking as uncertain of
himself as Richie was feeling.
"I'm sorry, Richie..."
"Mac, I..."
Both started speaking at once, then lapsed into an embarrassed
silence. Richie looked away, unable to maintain eye contact any
longer. Finally Duncan broke the silence, speaking quietly but firmly.
"Richie, I'm sorry...Ulick was hunting me. He should never have
involved you, or Amanda." His voice faltered slightly and he stopped
speaking, taking a slow deep breath to steady himself.
Richie looked up at him and his vivid blue eyes met Duncan's deep
brown ones. For a second neither moved, then once again Duncan broke
the silence.
"And when he did...it shouldn't...no...*I* shouldn't have taken so
long to find you. I left you there, and that bastard...when I think of
what he did to you. I..." Again Duncan trailed off into silence.
Richie watched as unshed tears filled his mentor's eyes. Suddenly he
began to truly understand the extent of the guilt the Scot was
feeling. Slowly and carefully he started speaking, trying to explain
his own pain and fears.
"It wasn't what he did, or even how he went about it, Mac. It was
just...well...he...he *used* me like...like some kind of toy...there
was nothing I could do to stop him...and I was angry...really
angry...but not with him. At first I thought I was angry with you, for
not preventing him from taking me." Richie held up his hand as Duncan
tried to interrupt before continuing.
"Then I realised the truth. The only person I was truly angry with was
myself. I let it happen and I was unable to stop it. I may still be
young and inexperienced but I am immortal. You won't always be there
to protect me...I can't and don't expect you to be. I need to stand on
my own two feet and I have to be able to do that without protection."
Duncan watched Richie carefully, longing to speak, to comfort his
student and tell him that he was wrong to demean his abilities, but he
couldn't...not yet. Richie had obviously thought about little else
since the events of his torture. He needed to talk this through, to
put events in the correct perspective in his own mind, and Duncan
needed to know what he was thinking.
"I believed I'd *let* myself become a victim, and I hated myself for
that weakness," Richie started speaking again. "Then Adam came to see
me. He convinced me that it wasn't my fault, but much more importantly
he told me that I would only ever be a victim for as long as I let
myself be one."
Richie looked up and met Duncan's eyes again. His next words were more
than a statement, they were a promise to both himself and his mentor.
"I don't want to be a victim, and I won't be. Never again!"
"Adam was right" Duncan finally spoke softly, not wanting to break the
mood and honesty of the occasion, but needing to offer some kind of
support to his student. This kind of soul searching wasn't easy and he
could only guess how hard this was for Richie.
"I'm still angry" Richie spoke again, "but now I've come full circle
and I'm angry with Ulick, no-one else. What gave him the right to use
me like that? What did I do? I hate him, both for Amanda and myself."
Richie took a deep breath. Once again he stared at the floor, unable
to meet his mentor's steady gaze.
"But most of all I hate him for what he did to us. You're the most
important person in my life. You gave me a home, a purpose and a life.
You gave me hope when I had none. That bastard took it all away from
me...for what? Why did he think it was his right? I know I still have
a lot to learn. I can't lose you now...I need you...I..." Richie broke
off, unable to continue speaking around the lump forming in his
throat.
Duncan swallowed hard, his own throat also feeling very choked up, as
he reached his hand across the distance separating them. Gently he
touched Richie's chin, lifting it until blue eyes were forced to meet
brown. Unshed tears glittered in both pairs of eyes. Slowly he moved
his hand again, this time coming to rest on Richie's shoulder. A
gentle nudge was all it took. Both men stepped forward at the same
time, Richie almost falling into Duncan's offered embrace.
"You haven't lost me" Duncan murmured. "You'll never lose me. Whenever
you need me I'll be here."
They stood like that for several moments, neither shedding the tears,
but both very aware of the emotions of the moment. Eventually they
parted and stepped back, each taking deep breaths trying to steady
themselves after such a soul-searching conversation.
"Coffee?" Duncan asked, careful to keep his tone as neutral as
possible.
"Please" Richie replied as he gradually got his racing thoughts back
under control. Duncan studied him until he was sure he would be okay,
then turned towards the kitchen.
"Why Mac?" Richie sounded slightly unsure again. "Why was Ulick
hunting you?" Duncan turned back towards Richie, his face a closed
mask. "Please, I need to know." Richie's voice had a desperate edge to
it, as though the answer was something he dreaded, but had to face.
"It's a long story" Duncan began. Richie's expression hardened, the
defensive look returning. "But we have plenty of time" Duncan
continued.
A smile slowly spread across Duncan's face as a similar expression
formed on Richie's. Richie had been honest with Duncan, despite his
fears and now Duncan would return that favour. Together the two
immortals walked into the kitchen, long stories requiring large
quantities of caffeine.
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13/13
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"So you got there and..." Joe asked trying to get the story straight,
at least in his own mind. How much would go into the Chronicles he
wasn't sure yet. That, as always it seemed, depended on Methos.
"When I arrived all three of them were dead" Connor replied,
"fortunately only Kramer permanently so." Looking up he saw the still
unasked questions on the Watcher's face. "By the time I'd dealt with
the body Richie was reviving. Between us we got Methos back to the
loft."
"Did Hyde kill Jason Thomas?" Amanda asked.
"Yes" Joe replied, "although probably not entirely by choice. Hyde
liked his quickenings to be from older, more seasoned immortals.
Thomas was one of the youngest he ever took. His Watcher thought that
Thomas was something of a surprise to Hyde, being better than he
expected. Hyde might have lost if he hadn't pulled a couple of really
desperate moves. The report suggests that he may have taken Thomas'
head almost by accident."
"Some accident," Amanda commented, but before she could say more the
phone rang. Joe stood slowly and made his way to the bar to answer it.
"Joe's"
"Hello Joe" the familiar baritone voice with a hint of a burr replied.
"Mac. What's happening? Is Richie...?" Joe found the questions
tumbling out.
"He's fine, Joe" Duncan interrupted him. "We both are. Did the others
show up there?"
Joe looked across at the table where the three immortals were sitting.
They'd been there when he arrived to open up, locked doors rarely
stopping either Amanda or Methos for long.
"Yeah, they're all here. Do you want to speak to them?" Joe asked.
"No, not just now" Duncan replied. "I've...no *we've* still got some
talking to do and then we have to collect a certain Rapier and return
it to its rightful place. After that maybe we'll spar for a while..."
"It's okay" Joe laughed, "you don't need to explain. Not to me
anyway."
"Maybe not, but there is something I do need to do" Duncan stated
firmly. "I need to thank you, and the others for your help. Will you
tell them?"
"Sure Mac. Can we expect to see you today?" Joe asked.
"Yes, we'll both be there this evening."
"I'll tell the others. See you later then." Joe paused before adding
"And, Mac, I'm really glad that you've worked things out."
"So am I, Joe, so am I." Joe couldn't miss the joy in Duncan's voice
as he hung up. He put the phone back in its cradle and walked back to
where the others were waiting. Three pairs of eyes watched him all the
way.
"Well?" Amanda broke the silence. "What did he say?"
Joe looked at each of the immortals in turn. Each face showed concern,
each waiting to hear how the reunion between their younger friends had
gone. At that moment Joe knew just how much Duncan and Richie meant to
the small group. Joe couldn't resist the temptation to extend this
moment. He paused, his own face a study in composure, giving nothing
away, until he could wait no longer. The smile that had been
threatening ever since he put the phone down spread across his craggy
features.
"They're fine, they're both fine," was all he said. It was all he
needed to.
Connor's face broke into a smile, a smile that broadened when a rather
excited Amanda kissed him unexpectedly. Joe watched them, amused as
always to see such unabated enthusiasm in immortals of their age.
Meanwhile the tension that had been in Methos for days eased, his
already seemingly relaxed slouch deepening into one of his patented
sprawls. As Joe returned to his bar and to his work he had to wonder
how this oldest immortal managed it without sliding right off the
chair.
Amanda leaned closer to Connor and whispered something about dinner
and dancing in his ear. Methos watched the interplay between the two
younger immortals with amusement. Whatever Connor thought he was
getting into he was in for a big surprise, Amanda's nights on the town
rarely ending up as planned. Briefly he tried to recall what valuable
artefacts or jewellery were currently on display in Seacouver.
Excusing himself quietly Methos was unsurprised that his departure
went almost unnoticed. When Amanda flirted, she really flirted, and
great men fell, greater men even than the senior Highlander. He made
his way to the bar to speak to Joe.
"Joe, I've got to go. I've some things I need to do," he said to the
greying barman.
"Okay Adam." Joe knew better than to ask what things. He'd get no
answer unless Methos wanted him to. "Mac and Richie will be in later,
you'll be here then?"
"Yeah...later" Methos replied non-committally as he turned to go. At
the door Methos stopped and looked back. Connor and Amanda were still
deep in conversation, oblivious to the rest of the world. Joe was at
the bar, doing what he did best...watching and waiting.
Suddenly Methos felt superfluous. Duncan and Richie no longer needed
his help. They would arrive here tonight to find their friends
waiting, ready and willing to do whatever they could...always assuming
that Amanda hadn't got them both arrested in the meantime. Joe would
be there too. All three of them had known and cared for the younger
Highlander for far longer than Methos had known him.
Even as this realisation hit him Methos' mind was planning. A quick
review of recent events confirmed that there was nothing left at
either Joe's or the loft that he couldn't live without. Years of rapid
getaways had made Methos an expert in this. It was time for Methos to
disappear and young Adam Pierson to return to Paris.
The decision made, Methos left the bar and climbed into his car. A
quick phone call booked a seat on the first available flight to Paris
and left him just enough spare time to return the hire car and check
in.
His route to the airport took him past the dojo. Before he was even
aware of making a conscious decision Methos pulled the car into the
roadside and stopped the engine. He looked up at the loft windows.
Although he was well out of buzz range he imagined he could feel the
Highlander's presence. Thanks to his efforts and those of his other
friends, behind those windows Duncan and Richie were now rebuilding
their shattered relationship. The satisfaction of a job well done
should've been Methos' overriding emotion...but it wasn't. If anything
he felt cheated.
When he'd heard that Ulick was hunting he'd jumped at the chance to
bring a warning to Seacouver. Ever since Duncan had left Paris after
taking Kalas' quickening he'd looked for any excuse to meet the
charismatic Scot again. At first he'd almost thanked fate for
providing the excuse he'd been seeking. He'd had no doubt that Duncan
would beat Ulick in a fair fight, and he'd intended to ensure that was
what happened.
Unfortunately for them all his plans had been scuppered and he'd been
forced to improvise. Neither Amanda, nor especially Richie had
deserved their treatment at Ulick's hand. By the time Methos had
arrived the situation had already gone bad and he'd been forced to
turn his scheming mind to damage control and repair.
"The best laid plans..." Methos commented to the empty car, the irony
of the situation not escaping his sharp humour. He restarted the
engine, but didn't immediately pull away. Once again his gaze returned
to the loft windows. This trip may not have gone to plan, but maybe it
wasn't a dead loss. His actions had helped Duncan and perhaps that
would count in his favour if the Highlander ever had to confront some
of the uglier incidents in his long history. Somehow Methos didn't
expect the highly honourable and moralistic Scot to readily forgive
his less than pleasant past actions, any more that he'd ever truly
forgiven himself.
Pulling his thoughts back to the present, Methos turned his gaze away
from the building and pulled off into traffic. Okay, so things hadn't
gone as he might have hoped, but he wasn't unduly worried. The
circumstances just hadn't been right, however, they were immortal and
Methos could wait. There would be another place and time for them.