By the way guys, I haven't seen Endgame yet although I am working on it. I am going to take it that John his son dies, but I don't know. And don't tell me in the reviews that I hope you will all write!

Shadows of the Past

Connor had thought that he had given up on love a long time ago. He promised himself that he wouldn't get involved again. He had even told Brenda this. But the truth was, that one cannot pick with whom one falls in love with. He had found this fact out the hard way and he had found out far too many times. He was tired of being immortal. Sure, it was fun at first, but even if you didn't get older in body, you got older in mind. You grew to lose passion for the world around you as you see it fall and crumble to dust, to ashes as the youth massacres it.

You see humans killing each other over trivial matters or for no reason at all. You sit and watch as the world goes mad over the decades and know that there is nothing that you can do to stop it. You have no power over anything that really affects you. Not even love.

Connor sat on the stairway of his apartment in New York and looked around the place. Even in the darkness, he knew the place so well he could still see everything. Whenever there was no home, this place was his home. And as he sat on the steps, alone in the vast and crumbling world once more, he thought back to everyone he had know, everyone who had ever done anything for him, anyone who was important to him everyone…

His first thought was Angus. A truly painful memory as it brought back his exile from his village and his friends. Angus had saved him, he had saved his life and Connor in return, had promised to never forget him. And he hadn't, although he hadn't thought about him in a long time, it didn't mean he had forgotten about him. And the girl from his village who had cried over his imminent death, and was one of the first to shout "BURN HIM!" when he lived.

But he quickly banished this from his mind and set his head on more pleasant thoughts. Like Heather, how much he missed her and wished that she were with him. She would have been supportive and helpful the whole way if she had been there. But the slow decay of time had turned to her to nothing but ashes and dust, and she had faded like the world had.

And Romerez, (sorry, I know I spelt that wrong) good old Romerez who had taught him everything that he knew.

"You old, overdressed haggis," Connor said to his empty apartment with a smile and a chuckle.

He had died twice and returned to him once. How he wished that Romerez had lasted along with the years. But he hadn't and there was no use in brooding over things that couldn't be changed, even if it is human nature to want what you cannot have.

And John, his son along with his wife Alex had grown old and died leaving him alone, another family, in ashes, in memory. Photographs held happy faces but sad memories of the things that you had loved and lost. Some say it is harder to have loved and lost than to not have loved at all. And Connor could tell any human being on Earth how true that statement was. He stopped looking back. He had tried to not think about past times, but no matter how much you tried to not think about them, and yet remember them, they still came back. If not in dreams, then nightmares, and if not in Nightmares, then in daydreams, and if not in day dreams, they came back as they were about to come back to Connor now.

As these thoughts ran through his mind, he felt the temperature in the room drop. He thought nothing of it for the first few minutes. But then it dropped so low that he could no longer even attempt to ignore it. His breath fogged out in front of him and he looked around the apartment. It all seemed greyer than normal and it couldn't have gotten this dusty in the last ten minutes.

He stood and walked to the bottom of the stairs and into the Living Area of his apartment. He looked about and shivered in the cold, and many thoughts ran through his head, replacing the memories that were there a few moments before.

It could be an attack, it could be had fallen asleep and this was a dream or it could be something completely supernatural, that he had not yet experienced even in his long life span.

It seemed to be getting warmer just behind and to the left of him, so slowly he turned not knowing what to expect. But nothing could have prepared him for what he did see.

As his glanced over the shape, it seemed as if a rope had been tied around his heart and lungs and he could not longer breathe. He blinked several times to make sure that it was not some figment of the imagination that his lonely mind had conjured up. But the shape did not leave. It began to get even more solid and then seemed to step into reality from wherever it was before.

He stood dumbly staring at it for what seemed like an eternity. He could not believe it and he felt that he could just stand there and look at it forever. But he snapped out of his daze as she smiled.

Slowly he reached out his hand, slowly, almost as if she would disappear if he moved to fast. But she didn't and he felt warm skin against his had as he rubbed it gently over her jawbone. A happy sorrow seemed to take hold of him, and he did not know whether it was a tear of joy or sadness and despair that left his piercing blue eyes.

He smiled, almost sadly at her. Locking eyes with her, not wanting to blink in case she disappeared and never came back.

"Heather."

As he said it, his familiar Scottish accent took hold over his voice.

"Aye, Connor. It's me… I came to see you, lad," she said. Her voice was clear, not like you would expect an apparition's or whatever she was to be. She was back in her prime. She looked young and frisky, the way she had looked when he had fallen in love with her. She was the only woman that he had truly deeply loved. And although he half wished he had taken Romerez's advice, he knew that his life would not have been as happy a one if he had left her.

When she died in his arms he felt shattered, like the pieces of him could never be put back together. Although he had loved Brenda, he had not loved her like he had loved, Heather or, say Sarah or Alex if you wanted to call her by that name.

"I've noticed, Connor. That you did what I asked. Every year, and I appreciate it," she said sincerely.

"Aye, blossom. Of course I did, how could I ever forget you? Are you real? Are you really here?" he asked, lifting his other hand to caress the other side of her face with loving fingers.

She smiled, almost sadly. The smile was not grim, but her eyes held a sadness that Connor found difficult to endure.

"We all are…" she said, taking a step back from him and his loving embrace.

Slowly as if in a dream, Brenda and Alex appeared behind Heather.

All wore the same thing and it was a beautiful sight. All three of the perfect women stood in front of him.

A small breeze had somehow come up in the apartment as if it was coming through a void that had been left between his world and theirs.

All wore long flowing white dresses that somehow seemed part of them and moulded perfectly around their forms, accentuating the curves of their chests and hips.

Their hair was down and floated around them.

A heavenly light seemed to radiate from all three as they stood in complete beauty all before him.

The ends of their dresses seemed to disappear behind them and into the floor, never-ending trails of light and perfection.

Then Brenda spoke in a familiar seemingly silky voice.

"We came to tell you Connor," she said with a smile. Her words seemed to wrap around him and penetrate him with their flowing cotton feeling and blissful smooth.

Alex finished her sentence.

"That you will never be alone…" Connor smiled, all time seemed to have stopped. Everyone outside the building or close by was part of another dimension and was a nonentity. The world itself seemed to still on it's axis.

Connor did not know what to do. And before his brain could kick into action to say something at this unnatural phenomenon, the three forms slowly disappeared back into the glowing light from where they came.

Connor felt saddened now and the warm glow that seemed to come of the three women had gone and he felt cold.

But somewhere… deep down inside, he could still feel the comfort of their words and he would never forget them.

Not for all eternity…

I really hope you liked it and please review, even if it's bad, constructive help is always good!