Title: 'Letting You Know'
Author: Kiva
Characters: Richie Ryan, Duncan MacLeod, Tessa mentioned.
Summary: Duncan is depressed on the second anniversary of Tessa's death, and tries to talk about it with his student. Hope that makes sense; )
Disclaimer : The characters depicted in this story do not belong to me, nor do I lay any kind of claim to them.
Rating: G I think………nothing bad happens.
Notes : Er……please keep in mind, I'm *very* new to the fandom, and haven't seen a lot of the shows. This hasn't been beta'd, so I apologize for any mistakes. It's set before 'Leader Of The Pack'
But I don't know if Duncan was living in Paris or Seacouver……..for the purpose of my story, he's in Seacouver…….and not involved with Anne at present.
Feedback : I'm not ashamed, I'll beg; ) I would *really* appreciate feedback, as that's the only way I know if I pulled the story off. Thank You………
****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Two years. Two years since his life had changed so dramatically. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, Highland warrior, feared immortal could hardly believe it sometimes. He had hoped initially that the change in scenery would help the process. He now lived in a loft, above a Dojo. A world away from an antique store in the Heights. And it *had* to a certain degree.
Oh, he had stopped coming home, expecting his lovers presence. Stopped noticing things in the world around him and wondering how she would react.
But he hadn't stopped waking in the night, caught in the place between sleeping and waking. Reaching for her warm body next to him, and finding himself once more alone.
He had never stopped loving her, either. He'd had lovers since…..going through the dilemma anyone who had lost a loved one and moved on had gone through. Feeling like he had betrayed her memory. Wondering if it was right to not think of her as often as he usually did.
Feeling the depression reach out it's claws to pull him in again, he stretched his arm out, his grasping fingers finding the bottle of Scotch once more. It was half gone. Soon, it would be completely gone. Empty, just like he felt sometimes.
*Uh,* he thought, *I'm really drunk now, having maudlin little thoughts like that.*
Or maybe not drunk enough, since he could still mock himself. He checked the time again. Although the numbers on the digital clock looked even more blurred than they had previously, the fact was the same. Richie wasn't coming. His student had phoned him a few days ago, making plans to be here today. MacLeod wondered if he did so simply to make sure his friend didn't get himself into the situation he found himself in now. He was caught between worry for his student, and anger at himself. Richie was a grown man. He could come and go as he pleased. His worry wasn't as strong as before, though. If Richie had been challenged and lost, Dawson would have found a way to let him know.
Of course he would……..wouldn't he?
Knowing that his logic was slightly fuzzy, and he was only trying to make himself feel better, Duncan reached a decision. He was going to stop thinking, a task made easier by the booze, and just allow the alcohol to help him drift safely off to unconsciousness. And that's exactly what he did.
**************************************************************************************
He reached a fumbling hand down next to his bed, grasping the solid weight of his Katana.
Then he pried open his eyes with considerable effort.
"I don't suppose that if it *is* a challenge……… they'll have the heart to come all the way over here, *before* issuing it……….save me getting up," he muttered to himself.
Knowing that friend or foe, he shouldn't take the risk, he slowly slid out from underneath the covers he didn't remember crawling under in the first place. He risked a brief look down at himself, pleased to see that he had been fully clothed when he passed out the previous night. At least he wouldn't be facing the potential challenger naked. Even if he *could* use a shower and a change of clothes.
Staying where he was, his hands gripping the hilt of his sword, he moved it instinctively into a ready position.
As he waited for the elevator to finish it's ascent, MacLeod felt the adrenalin pumping through his system, hurrying the natural waking of his body. *One good thing about an Immortal wake up call,* he mused to himself, *it really wipes away the cobwebs.*
As his visitor finally came into view, the Scot heaved a small sigh of relief. It looked like he wouldn't have to fight for his life. At least not today.
He turned from the elevator, placing his sword on the floor, and began making his bed.
"Hey Mac," Richie greeted, walking further into the loft and placing his motorcycle helmet down.
Taking a moment to look around, he noticed the Scot's motions.
"Hey Rich," Duncan said. "I'll be with you in a sec."
"No hurry," the redhead reassured. "Mac…….are you only just getting up?"
Looking up to see the quizzical expression on his students face, MacLeod replied, "Yeah……why?"
Taking his jacket off, Richie rushed to answer. "Oh, I just mean it's gone 11:00 am……..you're usually up and busting *my* ass for being late."
Bed made, Duncan stood straight, stretching to work out a kink in his back.
"Late?" he inquired.
"To open the Dojo………..it's pretty obvious that it's not open. I thought maybe you had an appointment somewhere," Richie answered.
"Oh," said the Scot, sounding slightly distracted. "Well, it won't matter just this once, right? Besides…….I had a late night last night."
His student nodded, seeming to accept this without further inquiry.
Duncan watched as Richie shifted about, his foot toeing the rug beneath his feet, his hands planted on his jean clad hips.
MacLeod had seen that look before. Richie seemed to be working up the courage to ask something, obviously unsure if he should.
Knowing that he was quiet for long enough, that the younger man would eventually come out with it, MacLeod moved over to the kitchen area, and began making some coffee.
He soon heard a sigh from behind him, and from the corner of his eye, saw Richie move to sit on a stool.
"Mac," the youth started. He stopped, and cleared his throat.
"Mac," he began again, "I know I said I was coming back yesterday. I tried, but some idiot was trailing me, and I didn't want a repeat of that whole Martin Hyde deal, and then my bike started acting up, and the weather! Well, that's not my point. What I'm trying to say, is that I'm sorry I wasn't here yesterday."
Pouring the made coffee into two mugs, the Scot tried to keep the surprise off his features. He remembered wishing for Richie's presence before he had gotten seriously drunk last night, and several times after. Had Richie picked up on this? MacLeod looked up at his student.
"Rich, it's okay. I figured as much when you didn't turn up sometime during the day, raiding my food."
They smiled at each other before he continued.
"Richie, you have a life, you don't have to explain your every move to me."
He watched as the serious look on Richie's youthful face grew even more grave.
"Yeah, I know Mac. But I wanted to be here. You know, for the anniversary."
The older of the two turned away, hoping the younger wouldn't see the pain sweep over his face. Trying to keep his voice level, he started to reassure Richie.
"It's okay Rich. I got through it. I'm immortal, I've lived over 400 years………..I'm no stranger to losing loved ones."
Richie sighed again.
"Let me guess, Mac. You 'got through it' with a little help from the bottle of Scotch lying empty over there, right?"
It was more of a statement than a question, as the youth indicated the empty bottle in question.
"Besides," he went on, his tone matching the serious set of his youthful face, "just 'cause you're no stranger to death, doesn't make it any easier. And holding it in and drinking yourself unconscious isn't a solution, either. It may have been two years since Tessa……..since Tessa died…….but I bet it still hurts."
After studying his hands in silence for several moments, he added, "I know it still hurts me."
He finally raised his blue eyes to Duncan's brown eyed gaze, waiting for a response.
Mistaking the Scot's silence for refusal to talk, as opposed to the shock his teacher found himself in, Richie raised his hands.
"Hey, it's okay, I didn't mean………..I mean, I know you're a very private person, hey, I am myself. But we never really got the chance to talk……….after *it* happened., and last year was kinda the same. I just thought you might wanna talk………that's all."
He stopped talking when MacLeod raised his hand.
"No Rich, I didn't……….I mean, I thought *you* wouldn't want to talk about it. After all, a lot happened that night."
His student nodded. "You're telling me," he muttered.
The Highlander sighed, coming to sit on the stool next to his young friend.
"What's brought all this on? I've been dreading the day that this subject would come up, but we got through last year without really discussing it. Maybe that was a mistake………but, why so eager now?"
There was obviously something else on Richie's mind.
Stilling Ryan's fingers, which were beating out a rhythm on the counter top his elbow rested on, MacLeod caught the others gaze.
"Tell me, Rich."
The redhead sighed.
"I mentioned someone was tailing me. Well, I never got close enough to sense them, but I kept thinking, 'What if it's an immortal?'"
Knowing he was about to stray into painful and potentially embarrassing territory, he took a deep breath.
"I realised……..I realised, I never really got to tell Tessa how much she meant to me. Never got to say good bye. There was so much left unsaid. I just………..realised that if it was another immortal, if I was challenged and lost………I never got to tell you stuff. Like………thanks for taking me in. Thanks for introducing me to Tessa. That I'm so sorry she died. I'm really grateful Mac. About a lot. For training me when I first became immortal………..even if I've never been dumped on my ass so many times in my life," he admitted with a smile.
"You've helped me with a lot, Mac. I just…………didn't wanna die without letting you know that," he finished, mortified that he could feel himself blushing slightly. "So…….I'm letting you know." He finally looked up to see the Scot staring at him.
"God, I never should have started this," he said, hastily standing up. His movements were stopped, when his silent friend placed a hand on his shoulder.
"C'mon," MacLeod said, picking up his cooling coffee and making his way to the couch.
Richie followed, both sitting down with their drinks.
"Rich," Duncan started, "I know we don't talk much about……..about what happened. I just assumed you wouldn't want to, and……..well, I guess a part of me hoped you never would want to. But……….Tessa knew that you loved her, Rich."
Staring into his coffee as if it held all the answers, he continued.
"I also know how you feel about me. I feel the same for you. If you hadn't been there, if you hadn't needed training……..I might not have made it. You helped without realising."
Seeing the youth begin to get embarrassed, he decided to try for a safer topic.
"Tessa wouldn't want us to bottle things up. She'd want us to honour her memory by talking about her, remembering the good times………even if it hurts," he finished, speaking the last part mostly to himself.
He gave Richie an almost embarrassed look.
"Before when I've lost someone….….it was *me,*" he emphasized. "I dealt with it by not talking about it, by keeping the pain to myself and getting through it eventually. Connor helps by just being there. Just in case I *do* need him. But it's still *my* grief. I guess I'm just not used to having someone grieve with me……..not sympathise, not try and give me platitudes, you know, 'it will be alright,'……..'one day it won't hurt so much'……….I've never really had someone who felt the pain……….who missed them as much as I did. But you do, Rich. I see that now."
"I'm just letting you know," he said, repeating his friends earlier words," you can talk me."
Switching his gaze back to his student once more, he smiled.
"Why don't we go out?," he suddenly proposed. We could go visit some of Tessa's favourite places. Take a look at her sculptures, the ones we put in the park during the Reinhardt affair."
Thinking back on that time, his smile grew.
"Remember when we all went down there to clean off the mess Reinhardt made……..the numbers he painted on them? How Tessa started a water fight."
Already he was feeling better.
Richie grinned, light in his eyes for the first time since Duncan had laid eyes on him that day.
"Sure Mac………one thing though," he said, the serious look in place once more.
"What Rich?" MacLeod asked, standing from the couch.
The reappearance of a grin ruined Richie's attempts at seriousness.
"Can you take a shower first? And, man, talk about morning breath ---"
The rest of his sentence was cut short, as MacLeod lobbed a pillow from the sofa at his head with a mock growl.
Moving off to do just that, the Highlander stopped suddenly, turning.
"Rich? Who *was* tailing you?"
An embarrassed look crossed Richie's young looking face.
"Uhhh……….well, I kinda left my wallet at this diner I went to. One of the customers noticed, and since we were both travelling in the same direction, she decided to follow me and return it."
Relieved that no one was after his friends head this time, the Scot moved off again, only to stop once more.
"She?" he inquired, with a knowing smile on his face.
"Yes, 'she," Richie replied, sounding slightly defensive. After a moment more under the Highlanders scrutiny, he added, "Yes! I got her phone number, okay?"
Chuckling, the older immortal left, entering the bathroom. He paused, listening to the sounds of Richie, no doubt rummaging around in the refrigerator.
"Some things never change," he muttered to himself. Looking to the ceiling, he added, "I miss you Tess. *We* miss you. And we love you."
Sighing to himself, he started the water running, imagining he could hear her reply.
"I love you both too, Duncan."
Author: Kiva
Characters: Richie Ryan, Duncan MacLeod, Tessa mentioned.
Summary: Duncan is depressed on the second anniversary of Tessa's death, and tries to talk about it with his student. Hope that makes sense; )
Disclaimer : The characters depicted in this story do not belong to me, nor do I lay any kind of claim to them.
Rating: G I think………nothing bad happens.
Notes : Er……please keep in mind, I'm *very* new to the fandom, and haven't seen a lot of the shows. This hasn't been beta'd, so I apologize for any mistakes. It's set before 'Leader Of The Pack'
But I don't know if Duncan was living in Paris or Seacouver……..for the purpose of my story, he's in Seacouver…….and not involved with Anne at present.
Feedback : I'm not ashamed, I'll beg; ) I would *really* appreciate feedback, as that's the only way I know if I pulled the story off. Thank You………
****************************************************************************************************************************************************************************
Two years. Two years since his life had changed so dramatically. Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod, Highland warrior, feared immortal could hardly believe it sometimes. He had hoped initially that the change in scenery would help the process. He now lived in a loft, above a Dojo. A world away from an antique store in the Heights. And it *had* to a certain degree.
Oh, he had stopped coming home, expecting his lovers presence. Stopped noticing things in the world around him and wondering how she would react.
But he hadn't stopped waking in the night, caught in the place between sleeping and waking. Reaching for her warm body next to him, and finding himself once more alone.
He had never stopped loving her, either. He'd had lovers since…..going through the dilemma anyone who had lost a loved one and moved on had gone through. Feeling like he had betrayed her memory. Wondering if it was right to not think of her as often as he usually did.
Feeling the depression reach out it's claws to pull him in again, he stretched his arm out, his grasping fingers finding the bottle of Scotch once more. It was half gone. Soon, it would be completely gone. Empty, just like he felt sometimes.
*Uh,* he thought, *I'm really drunk now, having maudlin little thoughts like that.*
Or maybe not drunk enough, since he could still mock himself. He checked the time again. Although the numbers on the digital clock looked even more blurred than they had previously, the fact was the same. Richie wasn't coming. His student had phoned him a few days ago, making plans to be here today. MacLeod wondered if he did so simply to make sure his friend didn't get himself into the situation he found himself in now. He was caught between worry for his student, and anger at himself. Richie was a grown man. He could come and go as he pleased. His worry wasn't as strong as before, though. If Richie had been challenged and lost, Dawson would have found a way to let him know.
Of course he would……..wouldn't he?
Knowing that his logic was slightly fuzzy, and he was only trying to make himself feel better, Duncan reached a decision. He was going to stop thinking, a task made easier by the booze, and just allow the alcohol to help him drift safely off to unconsciousness. And that's exactly what he did.
**************************************************************************************
He reached a fumbling hand down next to his bed, grasping the solid weight of his Katana.
Then he pried open his eyes with considerable effort.
"I don't suppose that if it *is* a challenge……… they'll have the heart to come all the way over here, *before* issuing it……….save me getting up," he muttered to himself.
Knowing that friend or foe, he shouldn't take the risk, he slowly slid out from underneath the covers he didn't remember crawling under in the first place. He risked a brief look down at himself, pleased to see that he had been fully clothed when he passed out the previous night. At least he wouldn't be facing the potential challenger naked. Even if he *could* use a shower and a change of clothes.
Staying where he was, his hands gripping the hilt of his sword, he moved it instinctively into a ready position.
As he waited for the elevator to finish it's ascent, MacLeod felt the adrenalin pumping through his system, hurrying the natural waking of his body. *One good thing about an Immortal wake up call,* he mused to himself, *it really wipes away the cobwebs.*
As his visitor finally came into view, the Scot heaved a small sigh of relief. It looked like he wouldn't have to fight for his life. At least not today.
He turned from the elevator, placing his sword on the floor, and began making his bed.
"Hey Mac," Richie greeted, walking further into the loft and placing his motorcycle helmet down.
Taking a moment to look around, he noticed the Scot's motions.
"Hey Rich," Duncan said. "I'll be with you in a sec."
"No hurry," the redhead reassured. "Mac…….are you only just getting up?"
Looking up to see the quizzical expression on his students face, MacLeod replied, "Yeah……why?"
Taking his jacket off, Richie rushed to answer. "Oh, I just mean it's gone 11:00 am……..you're usually up and busting *my* ass for being late."
Bed made, Duncan stood straight, stretching to work out a kink in his back.
"Late?" he inquired.
"To open the Dojo………..it's pretty obvious that it's not open. I thought maybe you had an appointment somewhere," Richie answered.
"Oh," said the Scot, sounding slightly distracted. "Well, it won't matter just this once, right? Besides…….I had a late night last night."
His student nodded, seeming to accept this without further inquiry.
Duncan watched as Richie shifted about, his foot toeing the rug beneath his feet, his hands planted on his jean clad hips.
MacLeod had seen that look before. Richie seemed to be working up the courage to ask something, obviously unsure if he should.
Knowing that he was quiet for long enough, that the younger man would eventually come out with it, MacLeod moved over to the kitchen area, and began making some coffee.
He soon heard a sigh from behind him, and from the corner of his eye, saw Richie move to sit on a stool.
"Mac," the youth started. He stopped, and cleared his throat.
"Mac," he began again, "I know I said I was coming back yesterday. I tried, but some idiot was trailing me, and I didn't want a repeat of that whole Martin Hyde deal, and then my bike started acting up, and the weather! Well, that's not my point. What I'm trying to say, is that I'm sorry I wasn't here yesterday."
Pouring the made coffee into two mugs, the Scot tried to keep the surprise off his features. He remembered wishing for Richie's presence before he had gotten seriously drunk last night, and several times after. Had Richie picked up on this? MacLeod looked up at his student.
"Rich, it's okay. I figured as much when you didn't turn up sometime during the day, raiding my food."
They smiled at each other before he continued.
"Richie, you have a life, you don't have to explain your every move to me."
He watched as the serious look on Richie's youthful face grew even more grave.
"Yeah, I know Mac. But I wanted to be here. You know, for the anniversary."
The older of the two turned away, hoping the younger wouldn't see the pain sweep over his face. Trying to keep his voice level, he started to reassure Richie.
"It's okay Rich. I got through it. I'm immortal, I've lived over 400 years………..I'm no stranger to losing loved ones."
Richie sighed again.
"Let me guess, Mac. You 'got through it' with a little help from the bottle of Scotch lying empty over there, right?"
It was more of a statement than a question, as the youth indicated the empty bottle in question.
"Besides," he went on, his tone matching the serious set of his youthful face, "just 'cause you're no stranger to death, doesn't make it any easier. And holding it in and drinking yourself unconscious isn't a solution, either. It may have been two years since Tessa……..since Tessa died…….but I bet it still hurts."
After studying his hands in silence for several moments, he added, "I know it still hurts me."
He finally raised his blue eyes to Duncan's brown eyed gaze, waiting for a response.
Mistaking the Scot's silence for refusal to talk, as opposed to the shock his teacher found himself in, Richie raised his hands.
"Hey, it's okay, I didn't mean………..I mean, I know you're a very private person, hey, I am myself. But we never really got the chance to talk……….after *it* happened., and last year was kinda the same. I just thought you might wanna talk………that's all."
He stopped talking when MacLeod raised his hand.
"No Rich, I didn't……….I mean, I thought *you* wouldn't want to talk about it. After all, a lot happened that night."
His student nodded. "You're telling me," he muttered.
The Highlander sighed, coming to sit on the stool next to his young friend.
"What's brought all this on? I've been dreading the day that this subject would come up, but we got through last year without really discussing it. Maybe that was a mistake………but, why so eager now?"
There was obviously something else on Richie's mind.
Stilling Ryan's fingers, which were beating out a rhythm on the counter top his elbow rested on, MacLeod caught the others gaze.
"Tell me, Rich."
The redhead sighed.
"I mentioned someone was tailing me. Well, I never got close enough to sense them, but I kept thinking, 'What if it's an immortal?'"
Knowing he was about to stray into painful and potentially embarrassing territory, he took a deep breath.
"I realised……..I realised, I never really got to tell Tessa how much she meant to me. Never got to say good bye. There was so much left unsaid. I just………..realised that if it was another immortal, if I was challenged and lost………I never got to tell you stuff. Like………thanks for taking me in. Thanks for introducing me to Tessa. That I'm so sorry she died. I'm really grateful Mac. About a lot. For training me when I first became immortal………..even if I've never been dumped on my ass so many times in my life," he admitted with a smile.
"You've helped me with a lot, Mac. I just…………didn't wanna die without letting you know that," he finished, mortified that he could feel himself blushing slightly. "So…….I'm letting you know." He finally looked up to see the Scot staring at him.
"God, I never should have started this," he said, hastily standing up. His movements were stopped, when his silent friend placed a hand on his shoulder.
"C'mon," MacLeod said, picking up his cooling coffee and making his way to the couch.
Richie followed, both sitting down with their drinks.
"Rich," Duncan started, "I know we don't talk much about……..about what happened. I just assumed you wouldn't want to, and……..well, I guess a part of me hoped you never would want to. But……….Tessa knew that you loved her, Rich."
Staring into his coffee as if it held all the answers, he continued.
"I also know how you feel about me. I feel the same for you. If you hadn't been there, if you hadn't needed training……..I might not have made it. You helped without realising."
Seeing the youth begin to get embarrassed, he decided to try for a safer topic.
"Tessa wouldn't want us to bottle things up. She'd want us to honour her memory by talking about her, remembering the good times………even if it hurts," he finished, speaking the last part mostly to himself.
He gave Richie an almost embarrassed look.
"Before when I've lost someone….….it was *me,*" he emphasized. "I dealt with it by not talking about it, by keeping the pain to myself and getting through it eventually. Connor helps by just being there. Just in case I *do* need him. But it's still *my* grief. I guess I'm just not used to having someone grieve with me……..not sympathise, not try and give me platitudes, you know, 'it will be alright,'……..'one day it won't hurt so much'……….I've never really had someone who felt the pain……….who missed them as much as I did. But you do, Rich. I see that now."
"I'm just letting you know," he said, repeating his friends earlier words," you can talk me."
Switching his gaze back to his student once more, he smiled.
"Why don't we go out?," he suddenly proposed. We could go visit some of Tessa's favourite places. Take a look at her sculptures, the ones we put in the park during the Reinhardt affair."
Thinking back on that time, his smile grew.
"Remember when we all went down there to clean off the mess Reinhardt made……..the numbers he painted on them? How Tessa started a water fight."
Already he was feeling better.
Richie grinned, light in his eyes for the first time since Duncan had laid eyes on him that day.
"Sure Mac………one thing though," he said, the serious look in place once more.
"What Rich?" MacLeod asked, standing from the couch.
The reappearance of a grin ruined Richie's attempts at seriousness.
"Can you take a shower first? And, man, talk about morning breath ---"
The rest of his sentence was cut short, as MacLeod lobbed a pillow from the sofa at his head with a mock growl.
Moving off to do just that, the Highlander stopped suddenly, turning.
"Rich? Who *was* tailing you?"
An embarrassed look crossed Richie's young looking face.
"Uhhh……….well, I kinda left my wallet at this diner I went to. One of the customers noticed, and since we were both travelling in the same direction, she decided to follow me and return it."
Relieved that no one was after his friends head this time, the Scot moved off again, only to stop once more.
"She?" he inquired, with a knowing smile on his face.
"Yes, 'she," Richie replied, sounding slightly defensive. After a moment more under the Highlanders scrutiny, he added, "Yes! I got her phone number, okay?"
Chuckling, the older immortal left, entering the bathroom. He paused, listening to the sounds of Richie, no doubt rummaging around in the refrigerator.
"Some things never change," he muttered to himself. Looking to the ceiling, he added, "I miss you Tess. *We* miss you. And we love you."
Sighing to himself, he started the water running, imagining he could hear her reply.
"I love you both too, Duncan."