Ulterior Motives
"Flying saucers at 2 o' clock!"
Methos just avoided having one of the dinner plates hit him in the head and only turned just in time to avoid being pelted by a second. He felt someone grab his arm and jerk him back.
"Get over here," Caspian said as he pulled Methos down on the couch beside him and out of the direct line of fire, "Let those two kill each other."
"Sounds like a good idea," Methos said as a third plate narrowly avoided hitting them.
In the kitchen they could hear several things crashing or breaking and people screaming. This of course was nothing new for them, just about the 10th round of an ongoing fight between Kronos and his wife, Rita. The two Immortals had been married for close to a dozen years and during that time Methos and his other brothers had been out to see the married couple many times and had on occasion stayed with them, and during all those times they were witnesses and sometimes spectators in a countless number of fights between husband and wife.
Half the time Methos wasn't even sure what the fights were about, or even if there was a reason for them; anymore he saw it as just being their way of communicating. If they weren't screaming and breaking things over each other's heads, they'd have nothing to do with one another. By now it had just about come down to an exact science, they'd spend a couple of hours, or days, at each other's throats, and then they'd be good for about three weeks and then start up again. Of course Methos knew they didn't really hate each other, not for the most part anyway, it was just how they were, though there were times he hated being anywhere near the line of fire.
"How long do you think they'll keep at it this time?" Methos asked.
"That depends on how many dishes are left," Caspian told him.
They heard a noise from the kitchen that sounded like the whole china cabinet collapsing and a minute later they saw Rita storm out putting on her coat. What Kronos ever saw in her they could never find out; she was a scrawny redheaded woman who was just as pigheaded as her husband, and just as spiteful.
"Where're you going?" Methos asked, already having a good idea of the answer.
"I'm heading out!" she told them, and that was all.
Methos got up after the door slammed to follow after Rita, but he heard Kronos' voice as he emerged from the kitchen, "Let her go, she'll be back in an hour or so. She can't stay mad for too long."
"I hope not," Methos replied, "It was already snowing when we got here, supposed to get a few inches before the night's over."
"Well," Caspian offered, "She always was a frigid bitch, this ought to just confirm it."
"Be nice," Methos warned him.
"So let her cool off, with that weather she ought to be back here even faster than usual," Kronos said.
Methos looked to the clock and murmured to himself, "I hope so."
Rita didn't come back after an hour, or even two. Outside the snow was getting worse and Methos was starting to get worried. He wasn't really sure why, he knew Rita was a grown woman and could take care of herself, but he still couldn't shake the feeling that something horrible had happened. And he guessed that Kronos was thinking the same thing because it was decided they'd head out and look for her.
"Hey Kronos, tell me something," Methos said as he put on his coat, "How bad was the fight tonight? I mean did you say anything to her worse than usual that she would intentionally stay away?"
"I doubt it's anything worse than what I've been saying to her for the last 10 years," he answered.
Methos shrugged as he buttoned up his coat, "If you say so."
By now they were all familiar with how Rita worked and where she tended to disappear to when she stormed out of the house, Kronos and Silas went one way and Methos and Caspian went another, already more than ankle deep in snow and more of it pouring down on them, like a ticker tape parade.
"Rita!" Methos bellowed out, and no easy task because the cold air was murder on his lungs, "Come on, Rita, stop being stubborn and come on home, all's forgiven! Well…almost!"
"She's nowhere around here," Caspian said, "We can't feel her and we can't hear her, meaning she's somewhere that we're too far out of range of her big mouth."
"Oh boy," Methos said after he and Caspian had trudged through a few more blocks of pure snow, "I hope she didn't get knocked out, in a few minutes she'd be buried under this stuff, it's heavier than usual."
"Why are you so worried about her?" Caspian asked.
"I don't know," Methos said, "It's just that this is some of the worst weather to get caught out in, lousy as hell for fighting, very easy for frostbite to set in – several times."
"Yeah, and maybe she also got eaten by the abominable snowman too," Caspian sarcastically remarked, "Knowing her, she probably got into a bar somewhere and is drinking herself stupid."
"Maybe," Methos said, and then stopped in his tracks.
Caspian about walked into him and asked, "What is it?"
Methos turned to him and said, "Somebody's nearby, I can feel it."
"I can't," Caspian told him.
"Barely," Methos noted, and he didn't like it. He started looking around everywhere, it was dark naturally since it was late at night, but with the snow, the sky above had a pinkish hue to it that made everything a little brighter than usual. "She's got to be here somewhere…" he sucked in a deep breath and called out at the top of his lungs, "RITA!"
The night was still and quiet, he could even hear the snow falling on the ground, and he listened closely for any sounds that could be human…and then…
"She's around here somewhere, I can hear her," Methos said.
It was so far off though, he wasn't sure what direction it was coming from. He listened, and he could hear it again, a low moaning, and he realized it was coming from somewhere up ahead. He and Caspian jumped over some already formed snow banks and came to an empty intersection in the downtown area, just a couple blocks from where all the nightly traffic and bright lights were, and only a block away from Kronos' house. There was enough illumination cast up on this block that they could see everything. Methos looked around, and then he saw it.
"Look!" he grabbed Caspian's arm and forced him to look in the same direction.
Over on the right side of the street by the corner fire hydrant, they saw an arm sticking out from under a thin pile of snow, and saw the hand was moving slightly. Methos and Caspian ran over to the figure laying in the snow.
"Rita," Methos dropped down beside her and started wiping the snow off of her. Her Quickening was so weak he could hardly feel it, meaning that she was near death. The snow cleared away, and he couldn't help gasping at what he saw.
Rita lay on the ground a bloody mess, her clothes were gone, she was covered only with a blue tartan blanket, and it only half covered her body.
Methos could feel his head pounding and it was a minute before he realized it was due in part to the sudden presence of other Immortals, he could hear Kronos as he and Silas approached but the words weren't registering with him. All he could focus on was the bloody, beaten woman laying beside him, her eyes all but closed, reduced to the smallest slits possible, her feeble attempts to speak coming out in only quiet moans. Whatever had happened to her had just been enough to leave her on the verge of death without crossing over, something that rarely occurred with Immortals, it was either all or nothing. How long had she been like this? And what, Methos was afraid to know, was the extent of the damage?
First things had been first and that meant getting Rita back to the house before seeing how bad of a condition she was in. Silas carried her back, wrapped up in the blanket she'd been found with. Entering the house, he set her down on the dining room table so they could examine her, and Methos was worried because she hadn't shown any sign of healing yet, and she'd had plenty of time. Also, she still couldn't talk, could only moan and chatter her teeth against the cold now that she was in the heated house again.
Kronos had Silas and Caspian leave the room, but Methos stayed to help; unwrapping the blanket they saw that Rita's whole body was a mess of blood and half healed cuts, and the only thing that could make it worse was the fact that she had clearly been raped, and if Methos had to guess, more than once. Kronos closed his eyes and for a second looked like he was going to be sick, but he quickly regained his composure and carefully lifted his wife up into his arms and carried her up the stairs to the bathroom to get her cleaned up. Methos ran on ahead and turned on the hot water and started filling up the bathtub. Rita's teeth chattered hard as her whole body shivered in response to the cold, Kronos eased her down into the tub and she hissed as her skin was burnt and quickly became red like a lobster's. The water likewise turned red as the blood started to wash off of her body.
By now Methos was starting to feel sick too, and he knew if he stayed in the room with them much longer, he was going to do something he regretted. He asked if Kronos needed his help and when Kronos said he didn't, Methos quickly made himself scarce from the bathroom. Caspian was waiting at the bottom of the stairs when Methos came running down, as if he couldn't stand being anywhere near Kronos or his wife right now.
"We heard," Caspian said, saving Methos the trouble of giving voice to what they'd already had to acknowledge once that night.
Methos stepped away from the staircase and ran his hand through his hair as if he was trying to figure out what to do. He squeezed his eyes shut and hung his head low, he could feel hot tears already building up and stinging his eyes and slyly working their way loose through the corners of his eyes.
"H-horrible," he was finally able to say.
"I know," Caspian responded, sounding very nonchalant about it but he knew how fond Methos was of the crazy woman.
"What the hell could've happened?" Methos asked, more to himself than his brother, "She's always been able to defend herself…what the hell could've happened?"
"I don't know," Caspian told him, "But Kronos is going to want answers about what did happen and I don't think she's going to be in any condition to tell him, not for a while anyway. So in the meantime we better find out what we can so he doesn't drive us nuts screaming for someone's blood without even knowing whose it is."
Given that Immortals usually had a speedy recovery from anything and everything, it wasn't so farfetched to say that they were 'immune' to many things, but shock wasn't one of them. Rita had been completely unresponsive for the first half of her time spent in the bathtub getting every speck of blood scrubbed off her body. Then by the second half, she came back to the present and burst into tears and didn't stop. Kronos made sure to the best of his abilities not to hurt her, pain was only temporary to an Immortal but all the same, his wife had been put through enough hell for one night, he wasn't going to add to it anymore than was absolutely necessary. After a while Rita started breathing heavily like she was going to be sick and Kronos took that as a sign to get her out of the scalding hot water. He lifted her out of the tub, wrapped her up in two large towels and carried her into their bedroom and laid her down on the bed. For all this she still hadn't stopped crying.
Kronos knew he wasn't going to get any answers from her tonight about what had happened, so he took a bottle of sleeping pills out from the nightstand drawer and forced a few down her throat, then he held her in his arms and rocked back on his heels and listened patiently as her neverending sobs slowly started to wind down and finally she fell into blissful unconsciousness and slumped forward against him. He kissed her gently on her forehead and got her tucked into bed to let her sleep comfortably. He had planned to go downstairs and talk to his brothers and see if they had been able to find out anything, but he decided to stay with Rita for a few minutes first, and in the process he fell asleep beside her.
The next morning when he woke up, she was still asleep and it looked like she hadn't moved all night. He decided to let her rest, so he left and went downstairs to see the others. Later that morning, Methos came up to the bedroom and saw that Rita was awake, but that she still hadn't moved from where she lay. Methos talked to her but nothing he said got any response out of her, it was like she was catatonic. Methos took his chances to see if she would lash out in retaliation if he tried unwrapping her from the towels that were covering her. To his surprise she didn't try to fight him as all as he got her to sit up on the bed and uncovered her until she was as exposed and naked as the day she was born. By now her body had healed, but now Methos knew was the harder part, mental and emotional injuries always took longer to heal, and didn't always go away.
He spoke softly and gently to Rita as he moved around the room and picked out some clothes and tried to dress her, trying to establish contact with her, trying to get some response out of her. There was no response, but he could wait on that. Through no small feat he managed to get her into a matching bra and panties and then into one of her fancier outfits. That was one thing he'd never been able to understand how Kronos came to be attracted to this woman; he usually married women who were of little to no maintenance, he never bothered with women who paid much attention to their looks. Rita didn't have a daily beauty or makeup ritual but she did have a closet full of clothes that clearly said she was a woman, and had some good taste, if not expensive. Methos decided whatever took the least hands on approach in getting her dressed would be good, he managed to get her in a blue and green snake print skirt and matching tie shirt. Getting her dressed was like trying to put a dress on a life sized doll, at least she didn't fight him, though Methos wasn't sure whether to be relieved or concerned by this fact.
For the time being, Methos decided that was enough exertion for Rita for one day so he settled he back against the pillows and let her lay down and rest, and told her that he would be back to check on her later.
"How is she?" Kronos asked when Methos joined them downstairs.
Methos shook his head grimly, "Something happened when she was attacked, she's practically catatonic right now…I don't know what's going to bring her out of it, maybe it'll wear off in time, maybe she needs another shock to her system to make her responsive again, I don't know…but for right now I don't see any harm in just letting her rest. Did she say anything to you?"
"No," Kronos answered.
Methos sucked in a sharp breath and told his brother, "I'm sorry to tell you, but we haven't been able to find any answers on our own either. The snow's covered over everything by now, we'll never be able to find anything that can help us now."
"So," Kronos said, "It's all going to come down to what she can tell us."
Once Kronos left the room, Methos and Caspian looked at each other and Methos told him, "Whatever did happen, her clothes were nowhere to be found where she was last night, that blanket that was found with her is the only thing we can go on, what do you think the odds are we can get any answers from that?"
"After being in the snow?" Caspian shook his head, "Good luck getting any trace forensics off of that thing."
"Who said anything about forensics?" Methos asked, and Caspian looked at him curiously.
Rita didn't come out of her catatonic state at any time that day, or that night, or the next day when she woke up again. Once again Methos took it upon himself to get her changed and dressed, this time he managed to wrangle her out of her clothes from the previous day and into a fish print dress. But once again she spent the whole day laying on the bed looking up at the ceiling, never responding when anybody talked to her. Methos felt his heart ripped out for her, but he also felt horrible for Kronos, he knew only too well what it was like to have his wife brutally raped and knowing both that there was nothing he could do about it, and never knowing who was responsible.
Another day passed before Rita finally seemed to snap out of her unresponsive condition. By the third day she got up early in the morning, spent an hour in the bathtub, and came downstairs to face the others, the only thing she hadn't done was get dressed; she met them still wearing the nightgown she'd been dressed in the night before.
"Do you feel up to talking about what happened?" Methos asked, knowing they were treading on thin ice already.
"I suppose I might as well," she replied as she sat down at the kitchen table, "Unfortunately I think I remember it very well."
"Just tell us what you can," Methos said.
Rita bit her bottom lip and said, "There were three men, they were all Immortals. They grabbed me and knocked me down, I felt something jab me in the neck, and I couldn't move."
"A paralytic," Methos said.
"I guess," Rita answered as she lay her head on the table, "There was one guy who I guess had the brain between the three of them, he did most of the work, the other two mainly just stood by and watched."
Methos felt his stomach twisting and flipping, and he could tell from the look on Kronos' face that he felt the same.
"I don't even know how long it happened," Rita told them, "Or how long they were there…they left me there to bleed to death, and I remember thinking how odd it was that I wasn't healing. I don't get it."
Methos thought about the possibilities and told her, "Perhaps there was something more in the shot they gave you. Among their own kind, Immortals have been able to come up with some of the damnedest things imaginable. Rita, would you know the men responsible if you saw them again?"
She nodded, and added, "I'd know him without his clothes on, that much I feel certain about."
It was obvious that going into these grisly details was taking a toll on Rita, after a few more questions they excused her and she went to the stairs and headed back to the bedroom.
"What do you think?" Methos asked Kronos when it was the two of them.
"I think I'm going to kill somebody, slowly, painfully," Kronos told him.
"Yeah well…I may be able to help you there," Methos said, not sounding enthusiastic about it at all.
Kronos turned and looked at his brother who walked out of the room ahead of him. He followed after Methos and saw he and Caspian were in the dining room. Methos sat down by the table and looked either like he was going to be sick or like he was going to burst into tears, or maybe both. On the table was the blanket Rita had been found in, bunched up into a large lump.
"What's going on?" Kronos asked them.
Methos looked up to face his brother and he explained, "We tried finding out something about the men who attacked her. We didn't find her clothes, the only thing we had to work with was this blanket," he picked it up and tossed it to Kronos.
"What about it?" he asked as he caught it and unfolded it.
"See that pattern?" Methos asked, "It's tartan, a very specific kind. It belongs to one of the Highland clans of Scotland."
Kronos looked at it, and then back at his brother and said, "Then one of them is responsible for this."
"That's where it gets difficult," Methos told him, "I checked…this particular tartan comes from the MacLeod clan, and in the whole history of that clan, only two members have been found to be Immortals."
"Who?"
"Connor MacLeod and Duncan MacLeod," Methos said.
"And naturally," Kronos said, clearly resisting the urge to tear the whole room apart, "You ran their names through that Watcher database that you helped put together."
Methos nodded, "Yeah…"
"Well?" Kronos demanded to know.
Methos huffed and said, "Connor MacLeod is in the clear, he was 12,000 miles away when it happened…but the other, this Duncan MacLeod…he's the younger of the two, and from what the files say, not very bright…unfortunately his whereabouts cannot be accounted for, on the night Rita was attacked he apparently gave his Watcher the slip, but he was in the surrounding area on the night in question."
Kronos clenched the tartan blanket in his fists until his nails practically went through it, "That bastard raped my wife."
"Seems so," Methos nodded, "A bit odd, his record doesn't say anything about him having a history of doing things like this."
"That doesn't mean a damn thing and you know it," Kronos told him.
Methos nodded, "No, you're right…it means nothing…"
"Where is he now?" Kronos asked.
Methos huffed and told him, "He alternates between Seacouver and Paris."
"Which is he at now?" Kronos asked.
Methos shook his head, "No, I know what you have planned, Kronos, and while I can understand it, it's not the way to do this…killing MacLeod would be too easy, even by your methods."
"Then what do you suggest we do with him?" Kronos wanted to know.
Methos offered a small smile and said, "Well as usual, brother, I do have a plan."
