Requiem

Methos knew the exact minute the fight was over. He was miles away from the confrontation, shut away in his summer home in the middle of a heavy storm when it happened, but he knew when it happened, regardless. He observed amidst his grief that simultaneously the clock's minute hand struck a new minute and the thunder cracker louder than it had all night. When it happened, he felt his heart break, literally though it wasn't possible, he could feel it deep within his chest, shattering into pieces and falling away.

The thunder roared so loudly that he felt the floor rumble beneath him and he could've sworn the doors on the house were about to rip right off their hinges. His head pounded and throbbed and he let out a long, mournful wail that was drowned out by the noise of the storm. He had lived through tornadoes, hurricanes, floods, and storms of every other kind, and a lot of them had been pure hell to experience; but right now in that this very moment it felt to him that the whole house was about to be pulled apart and everything, himself included, swept away in the currents produced from the storm.

The moment passed, both for the storm, and for Methos. He sat in the living room and listened to the rain beat against the house and watched the grandfather clock on the opposite side of the room. The minutes passed by slowly, every one feeling like an eternity. After a while, Methos couldn't stand to just sit and watch the clock pass, so he got up and went to the front door and looked out at the storm. Then he paced through the rooms for a while but that too about drove him crazy. He retreated to the kitchen at the back of the house and stood over by the sink as he waited for his brother to come home.

More time passed, the rain continued to tap against the windows. Finally, Methos felt the familiar quickening and he heard the front door open. But nobody called him. He didn't feel like going out to see his brother, but knew he should. Forcing himself to turn around, and take one step forward, and then another, and then another, he went into the dining room and from there could see his brother standing at the front door in the hall.

Kronos stood with his weight pressed against the door. He was soaking wet from head to toe, and he looked like he didn't even notice.

"Is it over?" Methos asked quietly as he made his way into the hall.

Kronos moved away from the door and slowly nodded his head, "It's over…Caspian's dead."

Methos had known it long before now, but actually hearing those words, it about did him in.

"What's going to happen now?" Methos asked.

"When the rain stops, we'll put him in the 'family' plot, next to Silas."

That was another death Methos had been mourning over for quite some time; their other brother had met with an untimely demise several years ago when the prison he worked in was bombed by a group of Hunters who didn't want to bloody their hands with the actual deed of a beheading. Since then, Methos and Kronos had kept close to each other, in part because of the fear of each losing the other, and also in part because neither seemed capable anymore of fully functioning without the other at their side.

"The poor bastard," Kronos said, pertaining to Caspian, "I don't think he even knew what hit him."

He started to peel off his jacket and he headed up the stairs to his room where he changed into a dry set of clothes. He stayed in his room for a while before finally returning downstairs and settling in the living room on the couch, and closing his eyes, trying to shut out the entire world outside.

The main storm was over but the rain continued to pour down outside, it pounded in his ears. He tried to block it out, tried to block out everything…the entire night's events, he wanted to shut them away and forget about them. But he knew he couldn't, as hard as he might try it would never work.

"Kronos?"

He heard somebody call him, and it took a minute to realize it was Methos. Kronos opened his eyes and saw Methos standing beside him, looking concerned. Adjusting his gaze, Kronos saw Methos was holding something in his hand, an off-white saucer with a cup sitting on it.

"Coffee?"

The smell burned his nose and made him want to vomit. "Take it away, take it away!" he said to his brother.

Methos backed away and set the coffee on the table. He went over to his brother again and sat down beside him on the couch, and just looked at Kronos for a minute. Then, without warning, Methos threw his arms around Kronos' neck and got out a choked, "Thank you."

"Don't do that!" Kronos hit Methos with his fists and Methos backed away.

"I'm sorry," Methos said.

Kronos grumbled something and ended with, "I just don't feel well right now."

"Not about that," Methos told him, "I'm sorry that I put this off on you."

Kronos grumbled and grunted something else and waved it off.

"I know," Methos said, "I should've done it, I knew him better than anyone else…I just worried that I wouldn't be able to do it."

Kronos looked at Methos through the corners of his eyes as he spoke. Then he draped his arm around Methos' shoulder and commented, "Well, it's over with, he's dead now."

Methos was quiet for a few more minutes before he started crying again. Kronos, despite the ordeal he'd been through that night, took pity on his brother and pulled Methos close and waited for him to calm down.

Kronos tried to think, he tried to clear his mind, but nothing seemed to work. He recalled the events of that night. The decision had been a mutual one on the part of both brothers; they had determined that Caspian had to be killed, for his own sake, not anyone else's. Kronos wound up with the responsibility of actually having to kill their brother, and he had done just that, and even though he remembered everything all too clearly, it still didn't feel real just yet. It hadn't registered in his brain that what had happened just a few hours ago, had actually happened. No, he was certain that feeling would hit down on him like a ton of bricks, most likely when he was trying to sleep later that night.

He listened to his brother's mournful sobs, and though Methos was right next to him, the sound might as well have been coming from miles away, Kronos felt that distant from the man he was holding onto. He listened to Methos cry for the loss of their brother, and he understood. For thousands of years, Caspian had been crazy, there had never been question about it, he had been many things during the years: psychotic, barbaric, insane, merciless, cannibalistic…when the four of them rode together, and he was Famine, that was all anybody saw of him, and few lived to tell about it, but all saw the same psychopathic person.

However, it was not for this man that Methos was so grief-stricken for, no…if that had been all there ever was to Caspian, there would have been no point to mourn for him. No, Kronos knew that the real reason this was so hard for his brother to accept, was because he still remembered the man that Caspian originally had been. Long before his mind was damaged, long before he became the animalistic killer his family knew him to be.

It had been an old family secret, one that the brothers never talked about with one another. It had been buried about as long as there had been four of them. Methos, in time, had become a legend, the oldest known Immortal still living. This was a claim that could neither be refuted, nor proven, and Kronos was never sure he believed it himself. What he did know was that the four of them had all been closer in age than anybody would think; he was not near as old as Methos was, and, he also knew but would never openly admit, that he was likewise, not quite as old as Caspian was. Somehow, sometime, somewhere, the idea had originated that Caspian was actually the youngest of the four of them, but that was not true. At the time Kronos had met Methos and Caspian, they appeared to be so close in age that those who had known them for years would swear they had been born together.

Yes, once, a long time ago, Caspian had been what they called normal, just like the rest of them. Back then, he and Methos were very close and very similar in their behaviors as well as their personalities. Both had been scholars at the time Kronos met them…they were both intelligent, but it was more than just that, he recalled.

He remembered the day he met the two, though Kronos could not recall the events leading up to when and where the three of them had met.

They were just coming out of the temple along with several other people. Kronos hadn't become Immortal yet at the time…Methos was a relatively new Immortal, but being the only one in their vicinity, he hadn't been made aware yet that something separated him from everyone else. Caspian hadn't yet become Immortal either, but both men had at least ten years on Kronos at the time. He saw the two men and though they looked absolutely nothing alike, Kronos could tell there was a connection between them. How different they both looked all those centuries back, he recalled, Caspian especially, that had been long before he'd gotten his head tattooed.

Another thing Kronos remembered from that far back was that Caspian used to have a pet with him. A large black dog that had no name and didn't appear to be tamed, but it understood Caspian's commands, notwithstanding. Methos didn't particularly care for the beast, in fact he was not particular to most large animals, but the thing followed both men around everywhere they went. He remembered that the dog slept with Caspian every night, right at his side. He almost laughed as he recalled one eventful night from that time period.

The three men had sought to escape from one summer night's murderous heat by sleeping down near the river where the night breeze was most effective. Kronos and Methos each slept off somewhere by themselves, Caspian and his dog were also off by themselves, right next to the shore. It was early in the morning, and they were still asleep and oblivious to the world around them; Caspian especially was oblivious to the scorpion that was making its way through the sand and over towards him.

Caspian felt a searing pain in his face and opened his eyes and it was to his horror that he saw a large scorpion right next to him with its pinchers digging into his skin. He screamed and grabbed at the thing and pulled it away from him. The noise was enough to wake up Kronos and Methos and simultaneously scare the hell out of them. They saw Caspian pick up a large rock and crush the scorpion with it, again and again and again until finally it wasn't moving. He dropped the rock on it again and continued screaming as he moved away from it. It wasn't so much the pain that was causing him to scream, the other two men figured, it was just simple hysterics.

Methos and Kronos ran over to him to see if he was alright. Methos looked him over and concluded that the scorpion had just pinched him, hadn't yet had the chance to sting him or spray him with venom as some of them were known to do. He appeared to still be shaken up by the encounter however, and the other two men helped him to his feet and they headed back to the city.

It was almost comical, thinking about it now. In his early days, several kinds of critters got under Caspian's skin and disturbed him severely…after the change, he seemed to cope by eating the things that bothered him. The higher level of the food chain getting the last laugh it seemed. To remember the person that he once was, and then the person that he had been for over 4,000 years, it was almost impossible to believe that they were both one in the same.

The years had passed and the three men became very close during that time. A few years after Kronos met with them, another Immortal came into the town and they soon found out just what Immortals were. It was the first time Methos was made aware of what he now was; which was odd once he recalled the horrible accident he'd been in that must have awakened his Immortality, had occurred several years back.

"You and Caspian are alike," Methos had said to him one night, "When the two of you are around, I can feel it…and when you're gone, it disappears. That means if you die, you'll become Immortal too."

It had sounded tempting at the time but Kronos was in no hurry to die soon and see how it worked. Caspian however was not given that choice. A few years later, he disappeared one night and the next morning, Methos and Kronos had found his body smashed against the rock formation next to the river. They hauled his near lifeless body to a healer in a local village, with him screaming and moaning in pain the entire time. They stripped him of his clothing, laid him flat out on his stomach and the healer mixed some concoction in a bowl and chanted in a language unknown to them as he poured the stuff over the deep gashes in Caspian's back. He screamed in pain and held tight to his two friends during the whole time the healer worked. When it was over, the healer draped a blanket over Caspian's back while he slept, and lured the two other men outside to tell them not to expect their friend to live much longer.

Neither wanted to believe it and they held out hope that Caspian would recover, but as time passed they came to see that it was a vain hope. Caspian became delirious and started to babble, speaking to people who weren't there, and talking while saying nothing at all, all the while his two friends had to watch and witness it. Neither wanted to do it but they knew they had to be merciful and put him out of his misery. Kronos took it upon himself to do it, he took his dagger and, knowing it would cause Caspian further pain than he was already in, and hoping it would end quickly, thrust the blade deep into Caspian's back.

Caspian shot up screaming, Methos strongly locked his arms around his friend so he couldn't struggle and move around so much. He made no actual words as the life started to slip away from him, just screams and yells and moans and cries, and finally his body collapsed and Methos literally felt the life go out of him. Both men looked down at their friend, not really sure of what they had just done. Kronos looked horrified by it, Methos just seemed to be curious about it.

"What do we do now?" Kronos asked him.

"Wait, I suppose," Methos said, hoping that they had done the right thing.

They didn't have to wait for very long; within the hour Caspian's wounds were gone and he came back to life, gasping in the air as hard as he could. Methos and Kronos both pretended not to notice, they tried for years to convince themselves that nothing had changed, but they could tell from the moment Caspian revived that something was not quite the same about him. In more recent times, both men had seen it interpreted many times in the arts…a body is brought back to life, and the body is still there but the soul is not…or if it was, it was not the same as it had been before the initial death.

When Caspian had first become Immortal, the change in him was very slight that at first it was very hard to notice. But as the years passed, and years turned to centuries, it was painfully obvious he was not the same person anymore. Somewhere between the two points, he became violent and soon following that, barbaric, he began to eat the remains of his victims, until it had become his first nature. The others had noticed the immense change over the years, but neither knew what to make of it. They attributed part of it to the lives they had to lead as the Horsemen, but they knew it went far beyond just that.

Only a short number of years ago, when Methos and Kronos had a chance to visit with one another, they discussed the matter long into the night. Methos wondered if perhaps the delirium hadn't completely left Caspian's mind just because he had become Immortal…perhaps part of it remained and when he revived it stayed in him, and ate at his mind until he had become what he did. Whatever it had been, both agreed that their decision to make Caspian Immortal had not been worth what it had done to him.

Time and time again they had met up with Caspian over the centuries…he was insane in every sense of the word, but despite this, he had his moments of clarity. Sometimes they could last only a minute, sometimes they would last a day, or maybe a week, and the old Caspian seemed to return briefly. However Methos decided it was a cruel joke that Caspian did at their expense…despite their being used to his psychotic behavior, it meant more to them to see what they thought was the old Caspian they knew, showing through the madman he had become over thousands of years.

Methos finally realized that Caspian was beyond hope some 15 of 20 years before now. They had gone somewhere to be alone, and in the middle of the day that turned out to be a darkened movie theater room. Methos finally realized that their brother was not a Jekyll/Hyde case where one side would show through at some times and the other side at other times…it was the same person, the same personality, just torturing his brothers, pretending for brief periods of time that he was his old self again.

Methos remembered when he'd finally figured it out, how stupid he felt for believing differently for so long. He stood up and was about to walk out when Caspian returned to his regular demeanor and tormented Methos for thinking he could change. Methos got out of the theater as quickly as was possible and walked through the afternoon rain, as quickly as he could, and he hoped he never saw that bastard again. Mentally, he kicked himself the entire walk back to his place the whole while he was talking to himself.

Well what did you expect? He thought, You've suspected this for a long time now.

Suspecting something and knowing it's true are two entirely different things.

You knew, you just didn't want to admit it.

That conversation continued the entire time it took for Methos to get back to his apartment. Once there, he stepped in the coat closet, closed the door behind him and bit down on the sleeve of one of his coats as he let out a long, frustrated, scream. Once he'd recomposed himself, he contacted Kronos for the two to meet, and it had been then that they first gave serious consideration to the fact that the person Caspian originally had been was gone forever, and that keeping the other person he'd become alive wasn't doing him any favors. It hadn't been an easy decision to come to, but both brothers agreed.

"You're right, of course," Kronos had said to him one sleepless night when they were both pacing the floor, "The poor bastard would probably be better off dead…at least that way, if he is still in there, he won't have to suffer anymore…and if he's not…well, four thousand years and this really hasn't been much of a life for him, has it?"

They had been in an ongoing debate about this subject for about 12 hours that day and Methos finally couldn't take it anymore. Exhausted and frustrated and anxious, he started to cry and it took him half the night to stop. Once both brothers were able to face the fact that Caspian had to die, all that was left was determining who was going to be the one to take his head. Methos knew that the responsibility ought to fall on him because he had known Caspian the longest, he'd known the man first before Kronos ever came into the picture. But it was obvious just by looking at Methos that he wasn't sure he would be able to do it; so Kronos decided that it was what he needed to do.

The reality of what had happened had finally sunk in with him and both he and Methos fell to the floor, holding onto each other as they mourned for the brother that they had truly lost thousands of years ago.

Hours passed, the night drew on. Both brothers were exhausted in every sense of the word, physically, mentally and emotionally. However, both were also too exhausted to make it up the stairs to their rooms, so Methos pulled the cushions and the pillows off of the couch and piled them on the floor, creating a makeshift bed for them to spend the night on. Kronos was already about asleep and he didn't move as Methos pulled down the blankets that rested on the couch's back and draped them over him. Methos crawled in on the other side and burrowed under the covers to get warm as well. He turned and looked at Kronos, whose eyes were almost completely closed by this time.

"Goodnight, Kronos."

His eyes opened and he glared at his brother, but was too tired to be angry at him, let alone stay angry. "Goodnight, Methos."

And goodnight, Caspian, Methos thought as he turned on his back, Wherever you are…hopefully now you'll be able to rest in peace.

He closed his eyes and turned over on his side. Kronos already appeared to be asleep, and for the most of it, he wasn't moving. However, his hands found their way above the covers and started to clench and unclench themselves, like they were about to strangle somebody.

Methos heard something and opened his eyes. He was laying on his side on the floor, and he looked at Kronos, and Methos was shocked by what he saw. Kronos appeared to still be asleep but his body was violently jerking from one side to the next and then he went into convulsions. Methos got up on his knees and went over to Kronos and tried to pin him down and hold him still. But Kronos was too strong, too heavy and he was moving too much, he about threw Methos off of him.

"Kronos, wake up!"

Methos grabbed Kronos by the neck of his shirt and shook him and slapped him a couple of times, trying to get his attention, but nothing worked. Kronos' jaw dropped and the sound the came out of his mouth frightened Methos greatly. It wasn't a scream or a moan, he wasn't sure what to call it, but it was an almost inhuman noise that Methos could feel piercing through his bones.

And then, it was over. As suddenly as it started, the noise stopped, and Kronos stopped resisting and laid back against the cushions and the pillows. His eyes opened, but Methos could tell that something was wrong…he couldn't say what was different, but those were not Kronos' eyes. Methos realized what had happened and he fell back. He forced himself to remain calm as he looked at his brother, and he said, "Caspian?"

The eyes did not move, they did not see Methos, they just looked up at the ceiling. But he responded, with a low "Hello, Methos" emanating from deep within his throat.

It was Caspian's voice…it was Kronos' body but Caspian was the inhabitant in it, it appeared; his voice and the glare from his eyes shining through Kronos'.

"What are you doing here?" Methos asked him.

The eyes closed for a second, then opened again and looked at him, "I came to see you. You know what he did?"

The voice was accusing now, Methos could feel the anger and the hatred piercing through his skin and chilling him to the bone.

"Yes," Methos said.

"You knew what he would do, you let him kill me," Caspian said.

"Yes," Methos confessed.

"Why?" he asked, "Why did you let him do it?"

Methos could only answer with the truth, he didn't have it in him to lie to his brother now.

"I might have let you walk away," Methos told him, "I couldn't take that chance."

"You…wanted Kronos to kill me?"

"We both came to the decision that somebody had to do it."

A short, humorless laugh escaped Caspian, "I thought you didn't believe in the Game."

"It has nothing to do with that, Caspian," Methos told him, "It simply had to be done."

"Why?"

"We made a mistake 5,000 years ago, making you Immortal."

Caspian's eyes glared at him, somewhere between shock, and disbelief, and fury, "Keeping me alive was a mistake?"

"We should've let the wounds run their course, they would've led to an infection, that would've killed you…it's a gruesome death but not a violent one, you wouldn't have come back," Methos said, "You have to realize, more than us, that you weren't the same once you were alive again."

"So that's why you killed me? To remove a burden in your lives?" Caspian asked.

"No, Caspian…I don't know what you became when you first became Immortal, but somewhere during the process, you got lost in yourself. Do you remember that far back? Do you remember before you died? You were going to be a philosopher."

He remembered, Methos could tell by looking at his eyes, something had changed in them again. Caspian remarked, "You were going to be a teacher."

"You see, I remember how you were before, and when I realized that part of you would never return as long as you were alive…I knew that you had to die to be free again. Believe me, I took no joy in planning your death, but I believe it had to be done. You're here now…it shouldn't be possible, but it is, you're here now, and you can't stay in Kronos forever."

"And just where am I supposed to go now?"

"You know the answer to that, Caspian…if there is an afterlife, you need to go there, to finally be put to rest."

"And what if," Caspian asked, "There's nothing beyond this?"

"At least your suffering will finally be over," Methos said, feeling the tears stinging his eyes and starting to crawl down his face, "I don't know what happened to you…I don't know what changed you…but as long as you were the way you have been for thousands of years, I knew you had to be suffering, if this part of you even still remained after all this time."

Caspian said nothing in response and instead made some small sound of understanding.

"So," he finally said, "This is farewell."

"I guess so," Methos replied, "Goodbye, Caspian, I'm going to miss you."

"Yeah," he grunted in response, "I guess I'm going to miss you too."

"And Kronos?"

"Well…it's hard to miss the person who kills you…yes, I suppose I will. There's just one problem that I can foresee."

"What's that?" Methos asked.

"I don't know how to get out of here," Caspian told him, "I entered Kronos' body when he killed me…perhaps if you were to kill him, I could leave."

"What? And have both of you inside of me?" Methos asked.

"I don't mean take his head, I mean kill him temporarily, the shock might knock me out of here."

Methos hesitated for a few seconds before answering, "Okay."

He got up and went over to the coat closet and took out a knife with a serrated blade from one of his pockets. He returned to the living room and held the knife over Kronos' chest, and closed his eyes before plunging the blade deep into his heart.

Kronos screamed and tried to grab the knife and pull it out, but Methos struggled with him to keep the blade in his chest, and Methos watched as the life slowly drained out of Kronos until he was dead. Then Methos jerked the blade out and got rid of it for the moment as he waited for the wound to close and Kronos to revive.

The blood stopped pooling, and the stab wound started to close up. After a few minutes, Kronos returned to life with a violent jerk. Methos was seated next to the body, already sobbing uncontrollably over what had happened, and almost immediately, Kronos joined him.

Methos threw his arms around Kronos and each clung to one another as they cried, completely grief-stricken in remembrance of the night's events. Their grief was an outlet for everything that had been stored up in them for many years, it was as much for the bereavement of Caspian's death, as it was relief that perhaps now he might finally be laid to rest. Caspian had been dead for thousands of years, both Methos and Kronos knew this; but just because they had known the fact for many years now, didn't make the grieving period any easier on them. This had just been the final act to sever him from the prison that had become his own body and his own mind; but setting him free hadn't done much to ease their own pain.

Methos woke up and realized he was on the floor again between the covers and the pillows. It was early in the morning, this he could tell because it was light out even though there was no sun. It was still raining outside but its pounding and beating against the house had stopped and now it was a very light and calm rain. Methos turned over on his side and saw Kronos was still asleep on the other side of the bed.

"Wake up, Kronos."

Kronos grumbled something in his sleep and turned over, with his back to Methos.

"Come on, Kronos, get up."

"Don't want to," Kronos tiredly replied as he picked up a pillow and covered his head with it.

"Come on, Kronos," Methos pushed him, "It's morning."

Kronos let out an unenthusiastic groan and turned further on his side.

"Kronos."

"What?" he finally looked at his brother.

"Are you alright?" Methos asked, "I mean, after last night."

Kronos thought about it for a minute and said, "No…but I'm better than I was. What about you?"

"I still feel terrible about what we did," Methos said, "I know what we did was in his best interest, but I still feel like a traitor."

"Well don't start crying again, whatever you do," Kronos dryly remarked, "You just stopped."

Methos smiled weakly and commented, "You're just saying that because if I start again, so will you."

Methos straightened up the living room and then both brothers headed upstairs to their rooms, where almost immediately they collapsed into their beds.

The rain continued the whole day, never stopping, occasionally beating down heavier than usual, but it never quite stopped. Kronos spent most of the day listening to it as he alternated going in and out of sleep. For some reason, rain had always been a very calming sound for him to fall asleep to. All a part of nature he supposed, the natural sedative, he'd always found it easier to sleep out in the open than shut away in some stuffy house.

His attention was drawn to the sound of someone lightly tapping on his door. A knowing smile covering his tired face, Kronos flashed on The Raven and fought back the urge to mutter, "Nevermore" at his brother on the other side.

"What is it?" he called.

The door opened and Methos came in carrying a plate with two sandwiches on it. "Want something to eat?"

"No thanks," Kronos said as he rolled over, "I'm not hungry."

"Me either," Methos replied, despite taking a couple bites out of one of them.

"What time is it?" Kronos asked.

"About four," Methos answered.

"Been a long day."

"It's been a horrible day," Methos added as he crawled into bed alongside his brother.

"That too."

Kronos felt the added weight shifting the mattress and he looked behind him and said to Methos, "What are you doing?"

"Do you mind?" he asked, "I can't stay in that room anymore…that large empty bed just reminds me of when we first met, he and I slept in the same bed together for 15 years before you ever came along."

Kronos said nothing but he didn't object to Methos' being there.

"Kronos…" Methos said, "Where do you think…he went?"

Kronos turned over and looked at him, "Getting philosophical now, are you?"

"Maybe…what do you think, happened to him?" Methos asked.

"I don't know," Kronos answered.

"Where do you think he is?"

"Probably in the same place Silas is," Kronos said.

"I miss him," Methos said, feeling the tears starting to build up in his eyes again.

"Me too," Kronos replied.

Methos turned on his side and buried his face into his brother's shoulder and asked, "You think it's going to get any easier?"

"I don't know," Kronos said, "In a year, a hundred years, a thousand years, maybe…"

The next morning, the sun came out and illuminated everything it touched. When the mud started to dry back into dirt, Methos and Kronos went out to the cemetery on the back of the property to prepare the new grave. They dug six feet down into the earth, and then they dug beneath that, as far down as they could before the ground couldn't break up anymore. They lowered Caspian's body into the grave, a black shroud covering his face, and replaced the dirt on top of him. The whole thing took about five hours from start to finish, and when it was over, they marked the grave with a wooden cross with his name on it.

The two brothers stepped back and looked at their work. Neither spoke to the other, after a few minutes, Kronos turned and headed back for the house, but Methos stayed at the grave, staring at it for hours. The sun was setting and night was falling when he finally dragged himself back up towards the house and went in.

"You were out there a long time," Kronos said.

"I know…I was just thinking."

"Oh, what about?"

"I hope he understands," Methos said.

"What?"

"I hope Caspian understands why this had to be done."

A month after the burial, Methos found himself at the grave again. He'd been out to see it a few times over the month but this was the longest time he'd been here since they'd buried Caspian.

"Methos!"

He turned around and saw Kronos coming towards him.

"What are you doing out here?" Kronos asked him.

"Visiting," was Methos' response.

Kronos looked at the grave marker and said, "It hasn't gotten much easier yet, coming out here and seeing them."

Methos went around the grave and stood by the cross, "I hope he's alright, wherever he is."

"What do you mean?" Kronos asked.

"The night that you killed him, he spoke to me, and he asked me about, what if there was nothing past this life? What if there was no afterlife, no place for him to go? Do you ever think about that?"

"As little as possible," Kronos replied, "Maybe what there is isn't anything we were ever told about."

Methos let out a ragged breath and said, "Maybe."

"Come on," Kronos said, "Let's get back to the house."

Reluctantly, Methos turned around and followed Kronos back the way they had come. When they had gotten about ten feet away from the grave, Methos heard something.

"What'd you say, Kronos?" he asked.

"That wasn't me," Kronos told him.

Both men stopped and heard it again, it sounded like a dog barking. They turned around and were surprised to see a large black dog standing next to the grave.

"Where did that come from?" Methos asked, "I didn't see it."

"Neither did I," Kronos said.

They went back and got a better look at the dog, who just ran once around the grave and laid down, his mouth open in what appeared to be a smile. It was a very large dog, probably weighing 50 pounds, and every inch of its body was pure black except for the whites in its eyes, its teeth, and its long tongue that hanged out of its mouth as it panted.

The two brother saw the dog and saw that it was resting next to Caspian's grave. Methos and Kronos turned and looked at each other, morbid curiosity written on both of their faces.

"Do you think…" Kronos started to say.

"After 5,000 years, I don't know what to think anymore," Methos responded.

The dog followed them up to the house, staying close to either of the men at all times. It helped itself in the back door and showed itself around the house; going into every room, sticking its head in every open door, sniffing everything, all the while having that big dumb grin on its face as it explored every inch of the house.

Methos and Kronos discussed what they were going to do but didn't say too much because neither wanted to let out what they were really thinking; but they agreed to keep the dog for the time being and see what happened. It already seemed to be attached to both of them; all through the day it followed one or the other through the house, never straying too far from the men.

That night Kronos headed to his room to go to bed, and he half expected to find company in there. Methos had been alternating between sleeping in his own bed or coming into Kronos' during the night because of his own bed being too large and empty for his liking lately. He was surprised when he opened the door and saw his bed hadn't been slept in yet that night, and then another thought came to him. He went down the hall to Methos' room and quietly opened the door and looked in.

The room was dark but the light from the moon shone in, presenting some illumination to the things in the vicinity of the window. Kronos took a step into the room and saw Methos lying in bed with a book near one hand, and the black dog sleeping next to him, with its head resting on Methos' thigh. The dog picked up on some notice that they weren't alone and opened its eyes and picked its head up and looked to the door.

Kronos went over to the bed and petted the dog on its head a couple of times. The dog appeared to be content and laid back down and went back to sleep. Kronos moved back towards the door and left the room. At his age, he was like Methos, he wasn't sure what he believed anymore, but after everything he had lived through, he didn't believe too much in coincidences anymore either.