Duncan just stood there, staring at the closed casket. Even knowing he'd
finally gotten the body, didn't make him feel any better. It was just his
teachers body, nothing more, nothing less. It wasn't Connor. The true Connor, it
wasn't that dead body lying inside the coffin.
The oak wood felt warm under his fingers. In a weird cold way, this wasn't
supposed to be the way for him to go. None of it.
Alex sat comforting John in the corner. Richie was talking to them. The boy
didn't seem about to listen though. Duncan couldn't blame him. It wasn't
everyday that you got full physical proof that your father was dead. No longer
just missing, but dead.
Why was the knowledge of having his body supposed to be comforting. It wasn't to
him.
He held strong, but part of him felt strongly like breaking. He just stood
there, staring at nothing in particular. He barely even noticed someone was
coming closer. He turned around as a soft hand touched his shoulder. He held it
for a moment, accepting the offer of understanding. He looked up and stared at
Methos sympathizing face.
"Mac. I'm sorry. I couldn't stop him."
MacLeod looked up, wondering what Methos was talking about. He shook up and
faced the monster, the bastard, the murderer. It took all his strength not to
lash out, to just keep standing there, facing the murderers eyes.
"Methos." His voice became hoarse in his restraint. Betraying the
force of will it took him to just stand there and do nothing. "Take him out
of here. Now!"
The last word sounded low, but with a rage behind it, that sounded as if he
wanted to scream and shout, yet didn't.
"I can't MacLeod. I'm sorry."
The boy faced him, perfectly calm. Then to top it all of he just headed for the
casket.
"I see you received it."
The monster talked about it as if it were ... normal to send your victims body
to its relatives. As if it were a nicety. To him it probably was.
"Methos. Take him out of here, now, or I swear we'll find out what happens
when you take a head on holy ground."
The Highlanders voice became louder. Less controlled. The boy just let it roll
over him and smiled. MacLeod wanted to wipe that grin of his face.
"And that while I come bearing gifts."
Duncan finally noticed the wooden box in the young looking immortals hand. The
calm voice continued in a simple conversational tone as he opened the box.
Duncan didn't hear his words though. All his senses were taken in by the sight
of the katana.
Connors katana.
A perfect weapon for a perfect warrior.
A good man who had lost his head to the treachery of this ... boy.
God Connor. Why?
The immortal boy held out the weapon he had to have taken from his victims dead
hand and held it up as if in a salute.
"I knew that Gerinns son wanted his fathers blade and I hope, I pray, that
your teachers weapon will have the same kind of value to you."
Duncan accepted the blade, before he was over his shock, the boy was leaving and
all he could do was watch as the kids back left out of the door. The sight of
skulls on his jacket was the last thing he saw.
The Kurgans teacher, the most dangerous immortal ever.
Connors murderer.
There would be a day that he'd make the bastard pay for it.
Some day.
******
Duncan was still sitting there with Connors weapon. Someone had put a glass
of wine in front of him, but he hadn't even touched it. He hadn't done anything
but hold the katana since he'd gotten it. Instead he just sat there. The ancient
blade felt cold, so cold. He held on to it, knowing that Connor would have
wanted him to have it, but still, to get it in this way.
He barely even acknowledged Methos presence right in front of him. For once the
old man wasn't sprawling. He just sat there, his back against the wall, staring
at him.
"Why did you have to bring that bastard here? Why Methos? After what he
did."
"It's hard to say no to him."
It stung, the way Methos was friends with that kind of person. The kind that
would kill an innocent and good man like Connor for the sake of what... To
avenge a butcher like the Kurgan. Was that what Connor deserved to die about. He
couldn't believe that.
"Mac? Do you remember 1921? You were in Tennessee with Amanda and Cory.
Duncan couldn't help but smile at the memory of that time. Things had been so
much easier then, so different. Only a century in the past, a lifetime ago.
*** 1921 Tennessee ***
The cemetery was freezing and dark. There were no lights anywhere in the
immediate vicinity. His hands were losing all feeling. He rubbed his hands on
his coat and continued digging. He couldn't feel much, but he could sense the
twin buzz coming from down below his feet. Amanda and Cory were probably waiting
for him. He put the shovel down in the soft dirt. A cold wind blew through his
hair. To bad this couldn't be done a bit later, sometime in the morning, when he
had some light, something to warm him up a tad bit.
He could feel he'd reached something hard. Probably the caskets. Amanda looked
up at him and grinned as he opened the wooden board that held her from coming
out.
He felt like wiping that grin of her face. Damn it, he couldn't keep doing this.
But then she looked at him with those big blue eyes of hers and he couldn't keep
himself from digging out the other bozo as well.
Yep he was a sucker.
***
Duncan barely caught attention as he entered the bar on his own. He sat down in front of the counter and ordered a double Scotch. Anything that could help him forget how Amanda always got him to do exactly what she wanted him too. He emptied the glass almost instantly and ordered another one.
Some guys were playing with a young man that had obviously had too much to drink. The kid seemed to have some Indian blood and it was obvious the others had gotten him drunk on purpose. The boy, he couldn't be more than early twenties, was trying to catch his hat that one of the others was turning around. The bartender didn't seem to be about to do something to stop it and Duncan wasn't even sure if he should care or not.
He sipped a bit from his Scotch and tried to ignore the scene. He was thinking about what the hell Cory and Amanda were planning here aside of lying low when he heard the sound of glass breaking. He turned around and noticed the boy had a broken bottle in his hand. The kid wasn't really trying to hurt anyone with it. He was more endangering himself than anything else, but he might actually hurt someone else by accident.
The boy was stammering something in a drunken blur and the bartender tried to convince him to lay down the bottle. Duncan didn't understand what he was saying, but he helped out nonetheless. The kid was lucky no one filed charges.
He staggered out and Duncan worried what might happen to him. He pulled him up and offered him a ride. The kid blurred something, trying to get loose and falling. So Duncan just pulled him over his shoulder and asked anyone if they knew the kids address.
*** Present ***
Duncan reconsidered Methos' words. Yet another friend dead.
How many did that make in the last century alone? In the last decade?
Gerald Kruger.
He hadn't thought about the man for years. He chuckled a bit. The last time he'd
seen him, it must have been about 20 years ago. If it hadn't been for him, ...
he might have never told Tessa the truth. To be honest. It had been meeting up
with him again, that had led to him showing Tessa he was immortal.
And now the man was dead.
He picked up Connors katana from his lap and stared at it for a moment.
God Gerald.
*** 1921 Tennessee ***
Mac could feel the presence the moment he drove on the homestead. He stopped his car and dragged the unconscious body over his shoulder again. The kid had puked on the back seat. Just great. Another thing to clean out, if the immortal inside didn't just decide to challenge him.
A young woman came running at them. She was somewhat older than the boy, but
from the looks of it they were related. Both of them sharing the same dark
complexions and hair color.
"Janos?" He could feel she wasn't the immortal he'd sensed.
"Maria get back."
A giant immortal came out of the house. He didn't run, if he did it would
probably have looked like a buffalo's frontal attack. The man was huge, dressed
in black pants. His upper chest was naked and Duncan had a clear view of the
scar on his neck. There was a big broadsword in his hands. Well big didn't
do it justice. It would take incredible strength to be able to carry it, let out
wield it with the ease the man showed.
"Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod."
The other looked him over. Assessing him, considering him for a threat or not.
"Gerald Kruger." the voice was harsh and broken. Duncan did his best,
not to stare at the man. Trying to ignore ... Damn, if this guy wanted to fight,
but he couldn't show fear, now could he?
"I'm not looking for a fight." It was a halfhearted try and they both
knew it, but neither mentioned the uselessness of it. "I just wanted to
bring the kid back."
Kruger stared at the boy lying in front of him and grabbed him over his
shoulder.
"Thanks." He nodded to follow and Duncan decided it would be safest to
do so. The woman had already gone in as Kruger had told her to get the kids bed
ready. They'd deal with him when he was sober.
Duncan grinned at the mans explicit threats, feeling the obvious affection
behind the words.
**** Present ****
"You liked him didn't you?"
Duncan wasn't sure what to answer to that. Of course he'd liked the man. He had
been brute, hard, and stubborn. He'd been the type that had taken what he
wanted, the hell with everyone else. Yeah he'd liked Kruger. In a way the man
had become like a teacher to him. Not just about fighting, about life. About how
to live while being immortal. Kruger didn't speak about the Game. He took it
serious, but he didn't talk about it, he just lived it.
He remembered Krugers offer to stay at his place, the casual way the man had
accepted him into his family. He hadn't even been aware of how much he'd missed
the man and now he was dead.
"What would you say if I told you his killer had mortal help?"
Duncan stared at him in disbelief. Part of him had known that must have been the
only way anyone could have taken out Gerald, but to hear it like this, this
cold.
"That's against the rules." he stated the obvious. The rules, as if
everyone kept as strict to them as they should.
"Kruger was winning. The other immortal was about to lose his head when his
mortal girlfriend attacked Gerald. She beat him on the head with some kind of
crowbar. Catching his attention long enough to ..."
"And Gerald died." the words came out as a whisper.
*** 1921 Tennessee ***
Duncan held of the blade coming towards his neck. Just in time to save his life. The other immortals strength was incredible, the might the man could put behind his swing, forcing him down. The Highlander held up as best as he could, but the others strength was just too much for him.
He witnessed his sword flying from his hand and felt the cold steel touching
his neck.
"Tag. You're it."
"I guess I am."
He smiled and accepted Gerald's help in getting up, glad he wasn't really
fighting this guy.
"Maria wanted to know if you and your friends wanted to come over for
diner."
Mac groaned a bit; he didn't want to insult his friend but ...
And then there was the fact of Amanda and Cory and how much he really didn't
want to be in their company.
"I didn't marry her for her cooking. That's for sure."
*** Present ***
Methos had gone for a drink. Duncan couldn't help but wonder why the older
man brought it up in the first place. God why did people have to die. People
like Connor, like Graham, like Gerald.
Old friends, to know he wouldn't see any of them ever again.
The fact that he lost Gerald through trickery made it even worse.
Damn he wanted the kill the bastard that did it. Make him pay.
*** 1921 Tennessee ***
Gerald drove the pick up truck into the town. The place was a slowly expanding town, that wouldn't take long to grow into a city. MacLeod felt himself uncomfortably pressed against the door, trying not to inconvenience Maria who sat between him and her husband. Janos sat in the back, holding a tight grip on the rails of the truck.
The young man jumped out before the car even stood still and seemed to be
ignoring his sisters pleas to behave. Gerald got out a lot calmer and waited for
Maria to jump out after Duncan. She stretched her neck a bit after being
cooped up in the car. The two men followed her as she started chattering about
the things she needed. Fabrics for a dress, a new shirt for Gerald, food, nails,
... little things like that.
Gerald let her get ahead a bit and stopped in front of the towns brand new
jewelry store.
"You think she'd like this?"
It was a beautiful set of silver bracelets. Both endowed with a subtle line of
diamonds. Obviously the pride of the store. It made Duncan happy, knowing that
Amanda was nowhere near the place.
"Probably."
They both suddenly turned to see if Maria could hear them. The woman had just
disappeared.
Gerald called out her name, taking a step faster, slightly worried. He froze
for a moment and started running. Then Duncan could feel it as well. The
slightest hint of a presence. Very low, very subtle.
They found Maria in an alley, doting over a young boy, about 2 a 3 years old at
the most.
The child tried to hide behind her when it saw the two men coming at it.
Gerald couldn't help but glare as he watched Maria with the little boy. Duncan could more than understand the conflict. To take care of a child, while living the Game was hard enough as it were. Taking care of a pre-immortal child was even more so. But the both of them could see the all too obvious longing in the woman's eyes as she held the child close to her. A sense of longing and sadness, knowing the child wasn't hers, that she'd never have a child of her own.
"I can take care of it for you." Duncan finally said. "I know
some people. They'd take good care of him."
Gerald seemed about ready to agree, as he watched his wife with the little boy.
She was laughing at something the child said.
"I've never seen her this happy. I don't think ... We'll take care of
him."
Duncan nodded, understanding.
*** Present ***
"How is Steven handling?"
"He's fine. Married, two children, a third on the way. Gerald raised him
well."
"I'm sure he did."
Duncan got up and filled his own glass. "His killer, he paid for it,
right?"
He looked up at Methos. The other man just sat there, looking downward and
ignoring Duncan's eyes.
"Yeah he did. Temlan killed him."
"Loki?"
Duncan gasped at the thought. The monster that had killed Connor. The scum
disguised as an innocent boy. Hiding himself in a pretense of innocence while he
killed men through treachery.
"Nobody kills his students MacLeod."
Duncan was about to say something when he realized what Methos had meant.
In vengeance of a student. Had Gerald been a student of Loki? Or Temlan as
Methos liked to call the little psycho.
"What but how?" he couldn't believe it. Loki was scum, Gerald ...
"Even the Kurgan had his good moments."
"The Kurgan?" What the hell had that bastard have to do with any of
this? The man had been a barbarian, a monster of a man. A giant with a huge scar
on his neck that he got from Ramirez.
He could almost hit himself as it hit him, the meaning of it, how could he
have missed it?
"Gerald 'Gerinn' Kruger. The Kurgan."
Duncan forced his mouth to close, unable to believe it, any of it. Gerald had
been the Kurgan.
Methos pointed at the coffin holding Connor.
"That there is the bastard that killed him. Don't you feel angry any
more?"
Then he turned away, leaving the Highlander on his own, staring at the katana in
his hands.