AN - Many thanks to everyone who read and reviewed The Plague. To Lori, consider this your happy new year present. To moone31 merci bien, tu es tres gentille, j'ecrivais aussi vite que possible pour toi!. To Neoinean, I hope enough people have now rehearsed the family tree that it is clear. The pale horse hasn't made its last appearance – and the horsemen will be discussed – and Richie's with you. He misses Chocolate cake and Hamburgers. To PH Balance and Ivy – I thought making Cassandra Duncan and Connor's mother was just too obvious. Also since the small band of Immortals we see in the series can't be all there were, thus to avoid becoming too contrived I left her nameless and faceless and conveniently dead. Although, it would be an interesting woman who would be attracted to both Rameriez and Darius don't you think?! And to Sarai, Tammi and SC thanks as ever for your very kind words and encouragement, I hope you enjoy the sequel.
This takes place a few years after The Plague ends. For once, you absolutely have to have read that for this to make any sense at all.
Disclaimer. Not mine. And the only profit I get is the feedback of my readers and the pleasure of seeing the characters live on after the end of the series. Including Richie. Who am I kidding? Especially Richie.
A military base, somewhere in the desert – present time – August 22nd 2079.
"Come on, Come on," Richard Ryan Macleod muttered to himself, bouncing on his toes as his retina was scanned for the security protocols. He had just about burnt out his jet's engine getting back here in record time. He was in no mood to wait in line.
"Macleod, Richard Ryan, Lt. 2nd class." A synthesized voice acknowledged, as his image popped up on the screens.
"At last!" Richie tugged hard at the door.
Nothing happened.
"Red alert protocols are in operation," The voice informed him. "Please place your right palm on the scanner."
"Oh great, just great." Quickly Richie tore off his glove with his teeth and slammed his hand down hard on the illuminated console, watching as the little green light took precious seconds to scan the lines and whorls and match them to its database. If Connor had taken the project to red alert then things were even worse than he'd thought. Which meant it was all the more urgent that he get in there straight away.
"Scan complete," the voice continued mercilessly. "Macleod, Ryan, Richard, date of birth .."
"Yes, alright." Richard snarled, cutting it off. This was taking much too long. He glanced quickly around. It was a risk. His youthful appearance made it impossible for him to acquire the seniority that allowed Connor to simply by pass much of the red tape of military life as a matter of course. But this was important. And he had designed the damned protocols after all. With a little help from Amanda. "Computer, override security protocols, vocal authorization."
"Vocal authorisation within accepted parameters. Password required."
Richie flashed a tight, mirthless smile. His choice of password had been simple and to the point.
"Open the damned door."
Racing down the corridor towards Connor's office, Richie prayed that it was a false alarm and none of this was necessary. He could kill Mac for worrying him so much and then they would both kick back and have a beer. But as he rounded the corner he realised things didn't look good.
"Have you found him, yet?"
"You got here very fast." Methos observed.
"What can I say?" Richie flashed him a bright, insincere smile. "The traffic was light."
"You'll do Duncan no good if we have to take time out from looking for him to identify your body." Connor reproved.
Richie sank down onto the couch in bitter disappointment. He really was missing then. "Have you started looking? Do you even know where to start? I mean he could be anywhere!"
"Not anywhere," Methos murmured. "We think he went through the Gate."
"Through the Gate?" Richie's jaw dropped. "But he doesn't even work here."
"Long story," Methos shrugged apologetically. "At least it gives us some clear parameters."
"You mean, because we can only time travel within our own lifetimes?" Richie scowled. "Cos, five hundred years might seem like small potatoes to you but it's a pretty big deal to the rest of us."
"You're forgetting something," Methos looked at him, without rancour. "Where ever they are, they aren't going to travel outside of your lifetime."
"They?" Richie blanched. "Please tell me that you mean Amanda."
"I was coming to that." Connor glared at Methos.
"Come to it faster." Richie advised tightly.
"I'm sorry lad," Connor got up and came around the desk. "I didn't want to tell you this over the com-link, but the truth of it is .."
"Its Ares, isn't it?" Richie surged to his feet. "I don't believe this. I warned him. I told him to stay away. I said if he ever went after any of my family, I'd do whatever it took to screw up his precious prophecy."
"Rich, it wasn't Ares." Methos cut in.
"It wasn't?" Richie paused. "Then who was it?"
"Well, yes alright, it was Ares," Methos tried to clarify. "But he didn't go chasing after, Duncan. It was Duncan who went after him."
"Why? Its not like he can kill him or anything."
They had been back and forth over this, countless times since the full implications of the prophecy had come to light. No one but Richie could kill Ares or the world, as they knew it, would come to an end. Otherwise, Methos would have done the deed centuries ago.
"If we knew that," Connor sighed. "We'd have a better idea of where to look for him."
A thin, cold, and all too familiar, fear settled in the pit of Richie's stomach. The same fear that he had felt every time when his foster parents had said, 'we love you but ..' or 'we're sorry son, but ..' and walked out of his life. Mac wouldn't do this to him. He couldn't. Because Richie didn't think he could face the future without him.
"Hey," Methos nudged him encouragingly. "We started in 1974 and we've already reached 1987. We should find something before the night's out."
Richie scrubbed at his face, feeling the burning in his eyes. He wasn't going to go through this again. He wasn't. He cleared his throat. "So, how can I help?"
"Here," Methos tossed him one of the flat black boxes. "Pull up a terminal."
"What am I looking for?"
"Anything different." Connor advised.
"Such as?"
You'll know when you see it." Methos assured him.
"Well, that's helpful."
It was less than thirty minutes later when Connor suddenly straightened. "Risteard, take a look at this."
Richie was there in an instant, looking over Connor's shoulder with a worried frown.
"What is it?" Methos glanced up, even as he continued to scan the data streams
"Nuh-uh," Richie shook his head. "It didn't happen like that. In 1983 Mac got challenged by whats-his-face and figured the Game was getting a little too close for comfort, so he took Tess to live in Seacouver."
"What's his face?" Connor queried.
"Like I'm supposed to remember every teeny tiny detail?" Richie snapped. "I didn't know I was gonna be Immortal back then."
"Thank the gods, some of us kept records." Methos sighed.
"There's no challenge here," Connor's eyes crinkled in concentration. "And this Duncan didn't leave Paris."
"What?" Methos came to stand at Connor's shoulder, checking the information for himself. "Go forward a year or two." He suggested.
"No. He's still in Paris."
"No, no way," Richie interrupted. "I mean, if Mac's still in Paris then how could I have broken into his Antique store?"
"You couldn't, not in this timeline." Methos met his gaze, his eyes dark with worry, as he moved back to the other terminal and started working furiously.
"No. It happened just like I said," Richie insisted looking helplessly from one man to the other. "It must have. C'mon guys, everything about me being here, with you, here, now, in this room. None of this would have happened if I hadn't met Mac. Right?"
"He has a point." Connor agreed.
"I know that's what worries me."
"Because if I didn't meet this Mac," Richie nodded at the screen. "Then I must have met our Mac?"
"Exactly."
"Well, that means he's not dead, right?" Richie asked hopefully. "Which is a good thing. Isn't it?"
"Well, he's not dead yet anyway," Connor was still looking at biographical details from the screen. He raised his eyes to meet Richie's. "But if Duncan has travelled that far back, then we do have a problem laddie."
This was not good. Connor only ever called him laddie when he was sick or hurt and right now he was neither. Which meant that whatever was coming it was very, very, bad.
"Go on."
"We never imagined that Ares would try to use the Gate," Connor scrubbed at his face in a gesture that reminded Richie with a pang of the younger Macleod. "Why would he? It wasn't like he could kill you without negating the prophecy and he'd already had plenty of opportunities to wreck whatever havoc he chose on your childhood."
"But he went after me anyway?" Richie pressed his lips together. "The guy really plays to win, huh?"
"It seems he's been planning this for a long time."
"How long?" Richie felt his chest tighten.
"You remember when you said General Walker didn't like you and we told you that you were being paranoid?" Methos spoke up.
"Yeees," Richie drew the word out slowly. He did not like where this was going at all.
"He really didn't like you," Methos confirmed. "He was the one who helped Ares get in here and when he followed him through the Gate we did some checking and discovered he's one of a number of Orphans that Ares has been raising."
"You couldn't have checked this, I don't know, before? And what would Ares want with a bunch of kids anyway?"
"Given that the youngest is in his mid thrities, I'd say probably to use as an Army against you.
"An Army? I have to face an Army?" Richie squeaked. "Isn't that like against the rules or whatever?"
"You don't have to fight them," Connor soothed. "Not like that anyway."
"But Ares will use them to get you where he wants you," Methos tone was low and dangerous. "Ergo, Macleod's not dead, but right now he might as well be."
"He didn't know," Richie realised with sudden horror. "He didn't know that Ares was going to go through the gate. He didn't have a recall button on him, did he? Did he?"
One look at their faces was enough to confirm his suspicions. What on earth was Mac thinking? Stupid, stubborn, Scot, to be stuck in the past with no means of returning himself to their present.
"Wait a minute, all he has to do is wait. Eventually, he'll get old enough and he'll be right back where he started. I mean, he could be walking through that door any second now." Richie looked at the door hopefully, as if that could make it true.
"If he lives long enough." Methos pointed out quietly.
"He survived pretty good the first time around." Richie shrugged. But the words sounded hollow to his own ears. Duncan had a lot of enemies. When he thought about who he had faced during the time he had known him, some of those fights had been close, too close. A second's hesitation, a patch of ice, any small thing might make the difference between living and dying.
Yet when Mac had realised that Ares was planning to change the past, their past, who knew, perhaps Ares had even gloated about what he had planned, the Scot hadn't thought about any of that. He had only thought to keep his younger self safe.
"What about me? Where am I?" Richie demanded with a suddenflare of hope. He would bet his prized Harley that if they could find his younger self, Mac wouldn't be too far away.
"I don't know," Connor admitted unhappily. "After Emily," he caught himself. "After Rebecca 'died' you simply disappeared."
"No-one just disappears. You know about false identities and stuff. There must be something," He turned to Methos. "What about you? Don't you remember anything about this?"
"This never happened to me. Not to this me anyway." Methos reminded him.
"Oh man, I hate time travel." Richieran his hands through his hairand began to pace across the room.
"Look on the bright side," Methos suggested. "As long as you're alive, things can't be so bad. Its only when you wink out of existene that we really have to worry."
"Gee, thanks so much." Richie tried to scowl at him, but he had to admit that the Ancient Immortal's attitute was comforting.
But they both knew that even if Mac manged to keep his former self safe in the past, by seperating them in the present Ares had achieved exactly what he wanted. Without Duncan by his side Richie would be far more vulnerable.
"I gotta go after him. Bring him back."
"Of course. If you think that is what Duncan would have wanted." Connor agreed mildly.
Richie gave him a murderous look for such a low blow. Duncan had just leapt wildly, perhaps irrevocably, into the unknown, to protect him. The very last thing he would want, would be that he should put himself in the line of fire.
Still, how bad could it be?
"Look, we know Ares can't kill me. ISo its not like he could do much to me that hadn't already been done." Richie admitted uncomfortably.
"You'd be surprised," Methos looked away, his eyes shadowed by his own experiences at Ares hands. "And he's had time since then to perfect his techniques."
"You wouldn't let me read the journal," Richie pointed out a touch acerbically. Then his tone softened. "It was that bad?"
"Actually," Methos forced a grin. "It was much worse."
"Just because he can't kill you Risteard, doesn't mean he can't hurt you," Connor agreed. "And a man mad with pain and grief is none too accurate when it comes to weilding a sword."
"And if he doesn't make it back?" Richie challenged. "Do you really think the alternative is any better? I need him, Connor." Richie's voice cracked slightly. "I can't do this without him."
"I know," Connor came to stand in front of him. "But I can't let you go. I may well have lost Duncan today, I canna bear to loose you as well."
"But you'll risk me loosing you both," Richie protested astutely. "Because you're gonna go after him, aren't you?"
Connor didn't even try to deny it. "Macloed's look after our own."
"I'm just as much a Macloed as you are," Richie pointed out. "How come you get to go?"
"Because I'm the Clan Chief and you have to do as I say, rank doth hath its privileges, laddie," Connor offered with a tight grin pulling him into a rare hug. He looked over the lad's shoulder at Methos. "Look after him, Duncan will expect him safe and well when I bring him home."
"I will." Methos nodded.
"And you," Connor pulled back slightly to look Richie in the eye. "You are not to follow me. Understood?"
"But .."
"No. I absolutely forbid it, do you understand me?"
"Perfectly." Richie nodded.
Postscript. I'm afraid I am no scientist and my knowledge of the physicis of time travel comes from things like Quantum Leap and Michael Creighton's 'Timeline'. I hope that won't spoil your enjoyment too much. It is simply to facillitate the story and is not a major feature of the plot.