The Brother's Keeper

1945--

Methos jerked awake and let out a scream. He didn't remember where he was and he didn't remember what had happened. He felt tired and could hardly keep his eyes open. His whole body was in pain and it was almost as though he couldn't even move. In fact he could hardly breathe; it was as though his lungs had filled with smoke. He felt somebody grab him and he jerked again.

"Take it easy," he heard Caspian say, "It's not over yet."

He forced his eyes open and looked up at his brother. Where had Caspian come from? Laying his head back against the gravel ground, Methos tried to remember. He had been making his way through Japan and gotten in touch with Caspian who said he would be arriving in Hiroshima on Monday…and his mind scrambled to remember the date. August 6th…oh God, he realized, it was Monday!

Methos looked around and he saw hundreds of dead bodies lying everywhere; most of them had their skin burned black by something.

"You don't look much better yourself right now," Caspian told him, "Hold on, I'll get you out of here."

Methos closed his eyes and felt his brother pick him up and carry him off. He looked around at all the dead and the destroyed homes and the piles of ashes that were still smoking and he remembered. He'd heard the planes overhead and he saw the bomb drop, and he thought he could recall the noise it made when it hit the ground. But after that, he couldn't remember much of anything. Why had he come to Japan? That's what he was asking himself. He had never been fond of the place, or the people for that matter. But, he'd been off on one of his escapades, wandering the world, and Asia just happened to come up during his trip and here he was.

He'd stayed for a while, then contacted Caspian and told him what was going on. Things were looking bad on both ends with the war ongoing and Caspian had told Methos not to try and get out by himself; instead, he would come in and get him and the two could return to the states or Europe or someplace they were more familiar with, together. And as Methos looked at all the bodies scattered across the land that had been singed to practically nothing, and all the clouds of black smoke that were still rising, he wondered just what in the hell they were going to do now.

Caspian got Methos far enough away that they were no longer in the vicinity of the explosion or its aftermath. He got them both in the house and shoved his brother directly towards the bathroom. Once inside, he tore the burnt clothes off of his brother and pushed him into the shower and turned on the taps and had the cold water pouring down on Methos. He screamed and tried to get out but Caspian got in behind him and shoved him against the shower's glass wall. Methos pressed his hands against the glass to balance himself and just moaned and cringed as the water stormed down on him. Caspian watched as the dry blood washed out of Methos' matted hair and down his body, staining the shower's floor before disappearing down the metal drain in the center.

When Methos woke up again he was in a bed in a white room that looked sterilized. He thought he was in the hospital, but then he looked and saw Caspian standing by the door and he realized it was his brother's current residence, wherever the hell that was.

"What happened?" Methos asked.

Caspian smirked though there was no humor in any of it and he replied, "They did it this time, they've dropped the atomic bomb; 70,000 dead, countless more dying from radiation burns, even more to die still. It's the Atomic Age, brother."

When Methos heard that he laid back against the pillows and lost consciousness.

Three days later the news reported that a bomb had been dropped on Nagasaki as well; 40,000 people dead from the initial blast, the explosion was larger and the mushroom cloud that resulted from it had reached 40,000 feet in height in under eight minutes. When these facts became available over the radio and in the press, it sickened Methos to the point that he absolutely refused to get out of bed. As far as he was concerned, the world was about to end.

Later the word got out that the second bombing had been a mistake; Nagasaki had not been the intended target, rather, Kokura had been.

"A mistake," Methos repeated when his brother told him, "A mistake? 40,000 people dead because of a mistake!? Who's behind this?"

"Hell if I know," Caspian answered as he sat on the foot of the bed, "Some American I think they said."

Methos grumbled, "American, what the hell does that mean anyway? The only Americans there are the Indians. Everybody else who's there came from somewhere else. My God, what the hell is going on out there?"

He laid flat against the mattress again and looked up at the ceiling for a moment, and then to his brother with an unmistakable fear in his eyes as a thought came to him. "You don't suppose that Kronos is responsible for this, do you? I mean we lost contact with him a long time ago."

"Come on, Methos, I highly doubt that," Caspian replied, "He may be crazy but not this crazy, do you think?"

"No," Methos realized, "But now that it's been done twice now, it'll happen again, and I wouldn't put it past Kronos to get involved with the matter. You know destruction was always his biggest fascination, no matter how many people are sacrificed, soldier or civilian."

"Death toll for these last two time rings more civilians than soldiers," Caspian told him.

"It almost sounds more like something you'd do than Kronos," Methos observed.

1967--

Caspian entered the bedroom and saw Methos sprawled out on the bed listening to the radio discussing the day's fatalities from explosions and gunfire over in Vietnam. So far this was turning out to the biggest deathtrap a war ever was since the turn of the century. And to think, the thought entered Caspian's mind, that the troops had been told there would be no war, just training. He strode over to the bed and turned the knob, silencing the broadcaster; Methos looked up at him, not saying a word, but wondering why his brother shut off the report.

"I don't know why you listen to those things," he said, "All they do is make you depressed and then you don't get out of bed for a week."

"I'm an old man," Methos replied, "If I want to stay in bed that's my business."

"Certainly, but what point in it if you can't relax?" Caspian wanted to know, "When the first atom bombs dropped you were convinced that the world was about to end."

"It sure felt like it," Methos said, "Do you ever think about those days?"

"As little as possible," he answered.

"Well I think about them, a lot," Methos said, "I was there, in the explosion."

"I know, I know," Caspian reminded him, "Who do you think pulled your half dead corpse tattooed from top to bottom in radiation burn marks out of the crater?"

"But you weren't there," Methos told him, "Not when the bomb dropped, you didn't see it."

"Not as close as you did anyway."

"That was the first time mankind proved it had the potential, and the ability and the know-how, to destroy the world, and everybody in it."

"I know," Caspian said.

"I still wonder if Kronos was involved in any way," Methos commented.

"I know."

"And things aren't getting any better," Methos told him, "After World War II, it was Korea, then the Cuban missile crisis, now Vietnam, what's next?"

"Who says there'll be a next?" Caspian wanted to know as he sat down on the end of the bed.

"That's what I've been thinking about," Methos said, "I think this time it may actually be the end. I almost wish it was, then we wouldn't have to go through this anymore."

"Darwin was wrong," Caspian said to him, "Man's still a beast. 500 million years of evolution hasn't done anything for us or to us. In fact, man's worst than the animal, you know that?"

"I know," Methos nodded his head.

"Animals simply kill each other, no motive, not like humans anyway, they only fight and kill to maintain what is their territory. Humans on the other hand," he guffawed as he went over to the closet, "They have more reasons and motives to kill than there are cockroaches under a foundation. And every last one of their reasons…they're so idiotic and pointless I don't even know there's a word to describe them."

Methos looked at his brother rummage through everything in the closet, "What're you doing?"

"We're getting out of here," Caspian told him.

"And go where?"

"I don't care, I'm getting tired of seeing you lying around in this bed all day," Caspian grabbed Methos by the back of the waistband of his jeans, "Come on."

Reluctantly, Methos got to his feet and followed his brother out the door and into the city, "I hope that this whole mess is over soon."

2011--

Grunting, Caspian tightened the coat around him as he walked through the cold streets one winter night. He had gotten in contact with Methos in the previous month and the two had agreed to meet; but when the time came, Methos was nowhere to be found. However Caspian had been watching him enough over the years that he had a few ideas where his brother had sneaked off to. He followed the sounds coming from the church in its midnight mass service and had to make his way past dozens of people just to get into the old building.

He remembered the church well; this was where he'd found Methos after Pearl Harbor had been made public knowledge. It was also where most people over 70 years ago had come when air raids and warnings went out, and people thought a nuclear bomb was going to drop on them. For the life of him, Caspian couldn't figure out what it was with his brother and seeking refuge in churches whenever the world seemed to be going to hell. But be it as it was, he soon felt Methos' quickening and knew he was close. He walked down the aisles past a whole crowd of people and noticed the loose stones and missing bricks from the walls and the archways. The place seemed to be falling apart, as it had been since an earthquake hit back in 1954; but it served its purpose to the public nonetheless, so the people kept coming. Caspian found his brother on the floor by one of the front pews, looking unconscious, and half frozen. Methos had no coat and his arms were pressed so tightly against his body they were about to break.

Caspian took off his coat and wrapped it around his brother's cold body and helped him to his feet. Methos seemed to be completely unaware of his surroundings or anything that was going on.

"Come on," he said, "Let's get out of here."

Methos didn't open his eyes and he leaned on his brother the entire time that it took them to leave the church and get home. As they walked up the street, Caspian felt something wet land on him, and he looked up and saw it was starting to snow.

"Hell with it all," he grumbled to himself and pushed Methos to keep him moving up the road.

As soon as the two returned to Caspian's home, he got Methos settled out in the middle of the bed and covered him up. Despite having all the heavy blankets and thick quilts on top of him, Methos tried to burrow even further under the covers to get warm. Caspian went into the kitchen and put a flame under their dinner to heat it up again; while he waited for the stew to boil he went over to the radio and turned it on.

Rolling the knob till it had gone from one tuning end to the other, he was able to get little more than one report after another after another about the possibility of war with Korea starting again. How North Korea was testing its nuclear missiles and could launch one at the United States at any time. Caspian turned it off and then had the mind to shut the small radio away in a drawer. But he knew that would do no good; Methos by this time had to have known all the events that were going on. It was inevitable. Methos was always the first to know something and in the technological age they were living in, there were faster ways to find out what was going on.

The world had been going to hell since day one. But even Caspian would admit things seemed to be looking a lot worse these days. All things considered perhaps Methos was right to act the way he did; but he'd been this way for a long time now and Caspian was running out of ideas of what to do with him.

The next day came and passed and Methos never woke up. Caspian didn't go out and he didn't take his eyes off his brother. There wasn't much else to do, he was practically a hermit and had been such for some time now. He did however, try to place a couple of phone calls, one to Bordeaux and one to Austria, and nobody answered on either one. He made another call to New York, and still no answer.

Half an hour later Caspian felt the arrival of another Immortal and he headed over to the door. It opened and in stepped a woman a bit shorter than he was with a cropped head of brownish red hair tied up in a rag, wearing an oversized New York t-shirt, sunglasses with green lenses and a pair of cutoff shorts, carrying an overnight bag.

"Hey little housewife," she commented as she entered and removed her glasses and set her bag down, "What's happening here?" She looked over to the bed and saw Methos asleep, "Oh, I didn't know you had company. Is it business or pleasure?"

"Neither," Caspian answered, "My brother."

"Your brother?" she repeated, "Which one?"

"One guess."

"Oh wait, don't tell me," she went over to the bed and turned Methos over so she could see his face, "I know, it's the smart one."

"Correct."

"I know, I know, I'm a day late," she said.

"As always," Caspian replied.

"Well this time I have a very good excuse," she told him.

"Oh I've no doubt of that," he said as he headed towards the kitchen.

"I was at the airport the night before last," she said as she followed him, "And first of all the plane was late, second I was behind this guy who it took a whole half hour before he quit setting off the metal detector…then security comes up and grabs us all, it seems they think somebody on the 719 Redeye is carrying a bomb…so everybody had to open their luggage, take off their shoes, strip down to their underwear, it wasn't a pleasant sight. More men saw my backside in one night than they have in my whole life."

"Yes, but how was your trip?" he asked.

"Ha-ha-ha," she dryly responded, "I tell you, I hate wartimes, it makes life twice as difficult for people."

"Things have been like this even before the war," Caspian reminded her.

"Well they're just getting worse," she said as she walked over to the fridge, "Would you believe it? Christmas day and nobody on any broadcast station talking about the day, about the midnight mass in New York, all they're talking about is the damn Koreans and their missiles."

"And I'm sure over in Korea they've got all their radio reporters going on about the damn everybody else who's going to be at war with them," he said.

"I hope whoever they have at the controls is dyslexic and he blows himself up and the rest of Korea too," his wife replied, "Save us the trouble of doing it…"

"Do us all a favor, will you?" Caspian asked, "Don't start up on this again when he wakes up."

"What's the matter with him?" she asked as she glanced towards the bed.

"That's a long story," he answered.

"Uh huh, and I just got back from 3 months of a vacation away from you, much as I'd like to, I'm not going somewhere else soon," she told him as she twisted the lid off a bottle of beer, "Now about your brother."

"What about him?"

She looked back to the bed and without another word she sprinted halfway across the room and jumped onto the mattress, causing the whole thing to vibrate, which proved effective in waking Methos up. He looked up and saw the woman standing over him.

"Who're you?" he asked.

She held out her hand to him and answered, "Sterling Vidal's the name, and I'm your brother's wife. Apparently he neglected to mention he was married, funny, he's told me plenty about you, Methos."