A/N: Out of all things Perceval Wildes' one act His Return inspired this one. Joe's death in The Source is also what is triggering Tilly's nightmares in this one. That is what she sees though she really doesn't describe it. I will one day write a Highlander fan fiction that centers around only Joe but I like Dawson/Tilly, even though she's an OC I like them together. They're fun to play with.

{a line from His Return]

HELEN: Let me finish! These wrinkles - do you see them? These lines - they were not here three years ago - do you know why I have them? They are for you, you, you! It's not the men alone who go through hell! It's the women they leave behind them!

His Return:

By: LOSTrocker

Tilly woke up, gasping for air.

"Tills," It made Joe bolt up at once.

He fumbled through the darkness to assure his wife that she was all right, that she was home with him. Nothing to worry about. Joe captured her face with his hands to get her to lock eyes with him. "Tilly, look at me."

Matilda was having a difficult time adjusting, her senses were hey wire, and very much alert. It was only to calmness of Dawson's voice that brought her back from where ever she'd been.

"Joe," she chocked out.

"I'm right here,"

Dawson pulled her into an embrace. She was shaking and it wasn't because of the coolness of the late Autumn night either. His girl was all a fright, and he hadn't a clue what was going on inside that pretty little head of hers. Needless to say, this wasn't the first time she'd experience these night terrors. He tried to talk to her but Tilly wouldn't say a word. Instead, they would remain as they were now, close. Luckily, Joe was able to calm her down, settle back into sleep beside him.

It was the next afternoon that Dawson found himself on stage. He tried to stay focused on the music but his heart and mind were back at home with Tilly. She wasn't at the bar tonight. She wanted to come in but due to lack of sleep, Joe thought it best that she'd remain behind. He could take care of things here.

Methos entered around closing time just as Dawson was finishing up his session. It was on his way to his usual spot that he didn't fail to notice that Mrs. Dawson was no where in sight which caused him to worry.

"Where's the misses?" Methos asked Joe once he made his way back behind the bar.

"Home."

When he was before him, giving The Old Man his draft, that is when Methos got a good look at Joe. He had baggage under his eyes that was weighing him down. "You look like shit."

"Thanks buddy." Joe retorted. He sighed, shook his head. "Don't mind me, didn't git much sleep last night."

"I can see that." Methos said with a smirk that broke out his dimples.

"It's not what ya think." replied Joe with a wave of his hand to single Methos get that head of his out of the gutter.

"What is it?" Methos questioned nursing on his beer as he went along. "Is Tills all right?"

"That's the thing, I really don't know, an' she's really startin' to freak me out." Dawson confessed.

"How so?"

"Lately she's been havin' these awful night terrors, ones where she bolts up in the middle of the night, gasping fer air, reaching fer me." There was a pause. "I can't git her to talk to me 'cause she won't."

Methos understood where Dawson was coming from because Tilly had this wonderful habit of keeping everything locked down until she exploded.

"I really wish she'd would 'cause I can't help her unless she does." Dawson went on.

Methos finished his mug. "Do you want me to see if I can't talk to her?"

"Would you mind?" Dawson pleaded. "She listens to you."

"That's only because she's not married to me." said Methos as he pushed off the stool. "I can make an excuse to check on her, go from there."

"Thanks man," followed Dawson. "I really appreciate it."

"It's not a problem." The Old Man assured.

Back at the house, Tilly was more than a nervous wreck and the only thing that benefited from that was the place was becoming spotless. Not that it wasn't a pig sty to begin with. Cleaning was just one of those things that eased Tilly's nerves. All though, this time, it didn't seem to work as it usually did.

When she was left alone here, it often reminded her on how gigantic it could be when Dawson wasn't here. At least time, he was only at work and he'd be home with in the next few hours, but it didn't matter. It didn't make it easier since there was always that chance of swords and guns being evolved. The fear of the fact that there would come a time when she'd have to deal with the possibility of Dawson never coming home always stung in the back of her mind.

How would she be able to grasp it if one day Joe didn't come home? Tilly had instinct feeling that she wouldn't, not after all this time it took for him to find him.

Tilly jumped when a knock came at the door. She was hesitant to approach until she saw that it was only Methos. She let The Old Man in.

"Special delivery," he teased.

She gave him a small smile and noticed that he had some booze and a take out bag in his hands. "What's that?"

"My guess is that you haven't eaten so I took the liberty of buying you lunch." Methos acknowledged with a grin.

"Thank you, really didn't have to do that. Here, let me help you with that." Tilly took the food left him with the beer. She lead him into the kitchen. "You can go ahead and put the alcohol in the fridge."

Methos did as told. "I have something extra in there for Joe. He can warm it up for dinner."

Tilly was grateful for that. She really didn't feel like cooking. A few minutes after Methos had entered, they let the beer cool a bit before bringing a couple out, and enjoying them with lunch. Apparently, Methos helped himself with some of Tilly's, not that she minded at all. She split the hamburger and fries with him. Her stomach couldn't handle it anyway.

Methos watched her, she nibbled like a bird. "You really should eat." he suggested.

Tilly pushed her plate away. "You can finish that."

The Old Man asked: "Do you want to talk about it?"

That's when a light bulb went off in her head. "Joe sent you didn't he?" she laughed. "How silly of me to think this would be a social call."

"He's worried about you."

"He shouldn't be."

"Could've fooled me."

Awesome, she declared to herself. Now, she was concerning her husband to death with these childish nightmares of hers, and there was really nothing she could do about it since they kept on her haunting her at night like the damn plaque.

"I don't see where any of this has to do with you."

Those words stung more than should which Tilly caught in those puppy dog eyes of his. "Sorry," she apologized. She sighed. "It's silly really." Tilly didn't plan on telling anyone but after that remark she owed Methos that much.

"I bet you, it's not. Try me."

She got up from the chair at the island to where they'd made themselves comfortable for a bite. Tilly went off to the window looked out to find the sun was setting, the cool of the night air brought in a chill that she wasn't expecting. It made her pull her sweater closer in around her neck.

"I dreamt that he died Methos," she whispered, shivering. "The loneliness, emptiness that hit me with that possible realization that it could actually happen is what gets me…" She turned back around to meet his gaze. "I don't have to ask you to know what that feels like. I mean, I don't get this… Why they are happening now after all these years. These stupid night terrors. They're stupid. I knew what I was getting into. I'd just thought it'd make it easier."

Methos got up from his spot to close the gap between him and her. "First off, that is not in the bit silly," he assured her with a pointed finger. "Secondly-" he went but was cut off by her.

"It makes no sense!" she choked out.

"It makes perfect sense," he was going to finish what he originally began. "I'm going to be blunt. Joe doesn't get that second chance to come back. So, there is that risk of him dying." A pause. "I will promise you this, I will do everything in my power to make sure that he returns home to you."

"You promise?"

"I swear."

Tilly hugged him. "I can't loose him Methos, I can't." A beat. "He's all I've got."

He sighed, rested his chin on her head of blonde. What she didn't get was that Dawson wasn't the only thing she had. She thought so, but he was bound and to prove her wrong. It was going to be difficult since Richie was gone, and he wondered if that these nightmares sparked earlier on than now. She was pretty damn good with keeping things under the radar.

"You really should talk to Joe." Methos advised.

"Maybe your right."

"Can I get that in writing?"

Tilly hit him as she parted from him. "Don't push your luck."

It was way after midnight when Joe finally made it home. Tilly was waiting for him on the sofa by the time he made it back. He was surprised to see her, actually, he was hoping his girl would be asleep.

"Hey," Joe greeted.

"Hey," she returned. "How was work?"

"The usual." Joe said. "Slow an' steady." he put his hat on the wrack as he made his way over to her only to exchange a kiss and sit down next to her. "Ya really should be restin'." Dawson patted her knee. "C'mon, let's go to bed. I know I'm beat."

"Um, Dawson." Tilly caught his arm before The Watcher could go anywhere. "Listen about last night…" How was she even to start?

"Tills."

"No. It's fine, well, no it's not." Tilly corrected with a small smile. "I know you're wondering what the hell it was all about… Otherwise you wouldn't have sent over Methos." she figured. "I dreamt I lost you Joe."

"What? This what all this is 'bout?"

Matilda nodded. "Yeah, I know. It's crazy-"

"How long has it been goin' on?" Now, Joe was even more than curious. The last person on earth who should be worrying about of losing is him.

"Not too long after Richie," she hung her head in memory. Richie was the closet thing she had to a brother. After the incident, she had to distant herself from MacLeod. She hide away in Paris for a couple of months before realizing that it wasn't his fault. Richie wouldn't want her to do this, put blame where it didn't belong, and besides that, well, Mac was the next best thing she ever had to a father. It took them sometime to get back to where they were but they were able to get there none the less.

"I see. Tilly, ya don't have to-"

"I can't help it Dawson," she interrupted him. "You go away sometimes months on end without hearing a word from you, and I can't help but think the worst. I really don't know what I'd do if…"

"Yer not gonna."

"You don't know that."

"I can assure ya with the best of my recollection." promised Dawson.

"You're going away again?"

Joe sighed. "Yeah, Mac is going across the pond to take care of a few things. I have to go."

"I know." Tilly followed. "How long this time?"

The Watcher shrugged. "I wish I could tell ya at least that much. It all depends on what goes down."

"Maybe I can come with you this time." Tilly suggested. "I won't be in the way."

"I'd really prefer it if ya didn't." Joe remarked. He was looking out for her best interest. Where there was The Highlander there was usually a sword to follow, a clashing of blades. Joe didn't want her to be caught in the crossfire. At least while she was here Methos or Amanda could drop by to check on her, be her body guards. He needed her to hold down the fort here anyway.

She sighed, sunk back into the sofa. "I can't wait until you retire."

Joe chuckled. He could. His eyes caught hers. "How 'bout this?" he said. "When I come home, we can go away somewhere. Spend some time with just the two of us."

She leaned back up. "That's tempting." Tilly smiled. "Do you think Mac can let us borrow his cabin?" They wouldn't have to concern with anyone trespassing there considering it was Holy Ground.

"I may be able to pull some strings." Joe assured her. The Highlander did say he owed one, Dawson may just take him up on that.

She wasn't there when Joe left that time.

Methos gave her the word of The Watcher's goodbye and a promise to look out for her.

In the meantime, she'd be here, waiting for him on his return. As she always did.

END