-= Phases: Awakenings =-

PHASES: AWAKENINGS
© Sin (9/5/2000)

DISCLAIMER: The boys don't belong to me, nary a single one. Their passports say that they hold DPP citizenship, except for Red - he has permanent residency status within the Clan boundaries of the River Denial. I'm just warping them slightly for my own enjoyment and because the Muses are demanding it.

WARNING: Okay - this is still pretty tame. Pre-slash PG-13 with some slashy overtones. Just your usual occasional coarse language, weird spellings and strange humour abound! (Did you expect anything less?)

Story 2 in the Phases AU (http://www.geocities.com/~rynx/hl/s_fic.html)

THANX: To everybody that liked the Prologue and sent me feedback, I appreciate it and this next part is for you guys. You know who you are. Ta much! And to Tia, without whom my grammar would be not so good. I genuflect at your feet, oh Comma Goddess! =)

FEEDBACK:: I grovel in your general direction.

NOTES: Tia and I had a bit of discussion about my use of overcoat instead of trench coat. I prefer overcoat myself, because trench coat always makes me think "flasher". So the use of overcoat normally means a long coat, trench coat, ie something mid-calf to ankle length, perfect for hiding a sword.

Journal Entry

What an unexpected turn my life has made. One moment, my only worry is whether or not my dissertation is going to be finished on time, the next I have my hands and lap full of new Immortal. Go figure. I want to get to know him. I don't want to let him go. But to do that I have to be willing to join the Game again, enter into life once more. I have been hiding for so long, am I making the right decision? My head is telling me to get the hell out of here, to hide away. But my heart is telling me to hold on, that it's time to live in the world again and to sample all the joys that it holds.

I guess I have always been a sucker for a heartfelt plea.

Even if it is my own.

~~~~

Looking up at the other Immortal, Richie stuck out one blood-stained hand. "Richie Ryan." He watched the brown gaze flicker from the dead man's, Adam's >> face, to his own, then down to his proffered hand as if in assessment. "I felt you guys and though I'd come take a look."

It was if that final comment solidified the first impression for the other Immortal – one of guileless impetuousness.

"Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod." The brown gaze returned to his once more. "You should be more careful who you follow around."

"Whatever," Richie retorted, as he shifted the dead-weight across his lap. Ah, the Highlander. It just keeps getting better. >> "For now, I think we'd better get the hell out of here before the cops turn up. Here, you take Adam." The limp form was shifted off his legs and cradled in strong arms as the redhead slowly climbed to his feet, grumbling, "Shit, I hate trying to get bloodstains out of denim. Can I come with you? I can't go walking around here like this."

"The car's this way."

"One sec." Richie moved to retrieve his blade from the hapless attacker's chest. Looking down at himself, he sighed again and cleaned the blade off on his jeans. Turning to follow the Scot, he shrugged when he saw the look of askance the other shot him. "It's not like they aren't already dirty."

"Right." The taller man agreed in a monotone and turned, in what Richie assumed was the direction of the car.

Rolling his eyes at the lack of humour, he trailed after the retreating man, making sure his short blade was safely secreted away into its hidden sheath. "So?"

"So, what?" The words were clipped and less than friendly.

Rude bastard, I should ... >> Richie mentally shook himself as his anger at the other's curt tone. Don't go there, Old Man – that way leads to places you *really* don't want to go. >> "So, where to now?" He lengthened his stride to match the Scot's ground-eating pace. "He'll probably wake up in about five minutes, max." He used his baby blues to full advantage when MacLeod looked at him in surprise. May as well make the most of the encounter. What's done is done, now lets just see what I can find out. >>

"Back to the dojo." The Highlander came to a stop in front of a vintage Thunderbird, and shifted uncomfortably.

"Your car?" The younger looking Immortal queried, successfully hiding his smile at the dilemma the other was facing. "Ummm, you wanna hand?"

The unhappy look being shot his way caused the smile to escape slightly, earning him a darkening look in response. "Look, MacLeod, for some reason you don't seem to trust me. Hey, the feeling's mutual. But, we need to get li'l, ole bloodstained me, and the soon-to-be awakening corpse of Adam outta here." Richie lost the grin as he attempted to convince the Scot of their best course of action. "Where are the damn keys?"

"Left coat pocket." The grudging reply accompanied the other Immortal's shifting of stance to accommodate their removal.

"First trial down." Richie muttered to himself, as he fished the keys out and set about opening the car doors. He stepped back to grant the Scot access to the back seat, and watched with feigned disregard as the other Immortal gently placed Adam inside. "Does he know?"

"No." MacLeod frowned to himself and with one last glance at the lax form lying across the back seat, he turned to his unwanted tagalong.

"Oh, man." The redhead sighed, before looking up to meet the other's gaze. "He's gonna freak. You drive. I'll stay in the back with him. I'd say we've got about ..." He dropped a glance to his watch, "another two minutes or so before the shit hits the fan."

Before the Scot could make a response, the faint sound of a siren had them both turning their heads to determine it's direction. Brown eyes and blue met again, before each man moved once again towards the car.

"Let's go."

~~~~

Duncan took the opportunity to spare a glance in the rear vision mirror as he drove along Grove Street towards the dojo. There was something that deeply unsettled him about the seemingly young man ensconced in his back seat with his new student propped against one side. He couldn't put his finger on what it was that was making him so cautious, just that niggling sense that something didn't quite fit.

The bright azure eyes flickered up to meet his own and that feeling of unease struck again, causing something to shift, bringing him closer to some kind of epiphany. But, the moment was broken by the first gasping breath and the agonised groan that accompanied it, as Adam awakened to the first moments of his new life.

"Adam?" Duncan's query was interrupted by another pain-filled groan as the other man curled into a ball and clasped his hands to his head as if in pain.

"No." The husky baritone was filled with horrified realisation. "Oh no, no, no, no."

Looking back into the mirror, Duncan caught the silent gesture Richie sent him to keep driving and settled his eyes back on the road, all the while, listening to the other man's words.

~~~~

The sudden movement of the body at his side shouldn't have been a surprise to the old Immortal, but it was. Even after all these years, the Immortal ability to regenerate from death still amazed him. But, those thoughts were scattered from his mind as the other's unhappiness made itself known in his plaintive entreaty and the curled defensiveness of his body. Knowing that the buzz would continue until acknowledged, and that for one so new to their little world, the presence of two powerful Immortals like himself and MacLeod must be agony, Richie shot a speaking glance towards the brown eyes reflected at him in the mirror, and did his best to try and rectify the situation.

"Adam." The curled body flinched under the sound of his voice, the helpless denials whimpering to a halt as the unknown voice impinged on the other's shocked senses.

"Adam, look at me." Richie placed a gentle hand on the other's cheek and turned it as he bent closer, watching as the fragile lids fluttered before darkened hazel eyes opened to meet his gaze. Listening the other's harsh breaths, he continued to speak in the same quiet tone. "Just breathe. You remember what happened, don't you?"

"Yes." Adam flinched again as the memories began to resurface, his gaze flicking away before returning to the strangely familiar, but comforting blue eyes of the unknown man looking down at him. "I died."

"Yes, you did." Richie answered with a small smile. "In my arms, in fact."

"Oh." Realisation dawned and a moment of uncomfortable silence weighted the air between them, before Richie broke it with a chuckle.

"Kinda dramatic death you had there. Keeling over in the middle of the road into a stranger's arms."

"Well, I do try." Adam retorted with a wry grin, before the expression was wiped from his face in a wash of anxiety and uncertainty. "I'm Immortal, aren't I?"

"Yes, Adam. You're Immortal."

"Fuck."

Startled laughter pealed out, Richie watching in amused amazement, as the slender man seemed to gather himself in and sit up. "First time I've seen that response," he replied to the confused look Adam shot him.

"You've seen a lot?" Adam subtly scooted back against the door, shifting so that he was facing the other man more directly.

"A few."
~~~~

Knowing that the physical age and appearance of an Immortal had nothing at all to do with their true chronological age had never been so apparent to Adam as it did now. The young man sitting across from him seemed to radiate innocence and youth, his features were that of someone in their late teens, early twenties, but it was the eyes – those impossibly blue eyes that belied that perception. Still metaphorically spinning with the twist his life had taken, Adam blurted out the first thing that came to mind in response. "How old are you?"

"Don't you know it's rude to ask an Immortal their age." Was the cocky response, accompanied by a broad grin.

Geez, Pierson, can you have thought of anything worse to say? >> He mentally berated himself, as he watched the laughter slowly fade from the other's face. It intrigued him, that face. There was something incredibly appealing about the aura of irrepressible youth that dichotomously dwelt alongside the shadows that seemed to occasionally flicker in the bright eyes. It stirred his interest, made him want to get to know the man and mind behind the weary eyes, even as he knew there would be nothing more dangerous to him, and to his future, than if he chose to follow that path.

"We haven't been formally introduced, though I think that after our first meeting that'd be a bit redundant." The redhead held out his hand for a moment, before letting it drop when no reciprocation was forthcoming. "I'm Richie Ryan."

The words and gesture barely made an impression on the new Immortal's mind as he tried steer himself around the maze that had literally opened up before him with this startling new revelation. I'm so thoroughly screwed. If they find out ... >> He was snatched from his worrisome thoughts by the sound of a familiar accented voice, "Adam, you okay?"

Finally taking his eyes from the figure sitting to the side of him, Adam looked up to meet a pair of worried brown eyes that seemed to speak volumes with just a look.

"MacLeod." He blinked rapidly, the eye contact with the Scot finally deadening the sounding klaxon in his brain down to a dulcet roar that hummed on an almost subliminal level. "What the ..?"

"The buzz." The Scot turned his eyes back to the road, deftly maneuvering the car through the last of the traffic, before turning down the street towards the dojo. "I'll explain it when we get to the loft."

"You bloody well better," Adam muttered in a dark voice, his gaze drifting from one Immortal to the other, as he spoke.

The rest of the trip was completed in silence. Adam huddled against the door on his side, silently fuming over the life-threatening contortion his world had undergone. Duncan kept his eyes on the road before pulling to an easy stop in front of the dojo, while Richie plucked at the damp stickiness of his jeans as they slowly began to dry. The unconscious movement drew Adam's gaze down to the rusty-stained denim, his eyes widening in an ever paling face as the realisation that it was *his* blood that soiled the other's jeans, hit.

"Oh, God. I think I'm going to be sick!" Fumbling with the door, he managed to wrench it open enough so that he could stumble out onto to his hands and knees, before his stomach heaved in psychosomatic response. Choking on the vileness of the bile that expelled itself, Adam started to shake as delayed shock finally materialised.

~~~~

Oh shit! >> Richie thought to himself, as the look of mixed revulsion and fear in Adam's eyes brought him back from his mental wanderings. His fingers stiffened in shock, as he realised exactly what he had been doing and what he had just drawn the other's attention to.

Adam's fight with the door and impact with the pavement caught both of the older Immortal's unaware. Duncan was at his side, supporting him before Richie had even left the car. The redhead, realising that even in such a neighbourhood as this, the sight of a man in bloodstained jeans was bound to raise a few questions, buttoned up his longcoat before exiting the car and followed the other two into the red bricked building.

They took the stairs, each needing the physical movement to settle thoughts and contain rising emotion that threatened to break free in a place totally unsuited for it. Opening the door, Duncan ushered the other two inside, Adam's long-legged steps getting him across the floor in record time, while Richie hovered nervously by the coat rack.

"Do you want a coffee?" The question was directed at the redhead, while the brown eyes followed the path of Adam across the floor.

"Coffee, would be good," Richie muttered, a look of disgust passing across his face as he unbuttoned his coat and looked down at himself. He raised his eyes to meet those of the Scot and ruefully smiled. "I don't s'pose a shower and a change of clothes is on offer as well?"

Duncan looked over the other's blood-splattered form and inclined his head, the reminders of the recent past like a scarlet flag across the other's clothing. "Shower's through there. I'll grab you some sweats."

Pulling the coat off as he walked, Richie followed the Scot's directions, grabbing the sweats tossed in his directions, before disappearing into the bathroom, a muted, "Thanks," drifting behind him, as the door closed.

~~~~~~

"You knew!" Adam waited only long enough for the bathroom door to close, before he launched into his first attack. Pacing the floor in jerky steps, he waved his hands in agitated counterpoint to his words.

"I knew."

"How could you not tell me?"

"You deserved the chance to live a normal life."

"Well, big bloody surprise, MacLeod – that's not an option anymore."

"We have to start training you right away."

"Oh brilliant! Just another reason for you to knock me on my bum and add a few more bruises." Adam spun around, and stalked towards the obstinate Highlander and snarled. "I can't believe you! I get shot. I die. I come back from the fucking *dead* ... and all you can think about is training!" He threw his arms up in the air in angry exasperation, turned and paced away.

"You want to keep your head, don't you?"

Spinning on his heel, Adam shot the Scot a narrowed look, outrage evident in every line of his body. "Stop being so goddamn logical, MacLeod. I'm pissed off. I'm in shock. And the last thing I need is your holier than thou attitude!" Grabbing his jacket from the back of the couch, he almost ran towards the back door.

"Adam ..." Mac tried to intervene with the younger man, knowing that having him out on the street in such a vulnerable condition was tantamount to letting him commit suicide.

"Fuck off, MacLeod." The new Immortal spat, his fury brimming until he almost seemed to resonate with it. "I need time to think."

"But ..."

"Not *now*!" With those last words, he slammed out the door, it's abrupt contact with the frame sounding like the booming rumble of thunder.

~~~~

"Dammit!" Duncan swore to himself, as he listened to the fading sounds of the other's steps.

"He's young."

The quiet voice startled him from his morose thoughts, bring the dark head swinging around to look at the figure framed in the, now open, bathroom doorway. With the instinctive actions of a born warrior sensing a potential threat, the Scot appraised the bare-chested form, before it was hidden away beneath the borrowed sweat shirt.

"He just needs time to adjust," Duncan looked over again at the door Adam had made his furious exit out of.

"He needs more than that, Mac." Walking into the room, the other Immortal paused to assess whether his clothes were salvageable in their current state, before balling them up and stuffing them, unceremoniously, into his backpack. "Adam needs someone to tell him it's going to be okay."

"But, it's not. Not unless he trains!" The initial shock of the shortening of his name, was bypassed by the niggling guilt that the other's words sparked in him.

"You don't really remember, do you?" A half smile and an amused light lit the blue eyes, as they focused on him.

"Remember what?" Even to his own ears, the words sounded petulant, and Duncan dropped his head in self-disgust, ashamed that he had let his need to protect blind him to the emotional needs of his recalcitrant new student.

"The fear ... the uncertainty ... the denial."

Simple words, all of them, but the indelible memories they produced hit with a deadening impact, leaving him gasping, as the past tugged at him. The memories of the first years of his Immortality almost blocked out the other's retreating words, as the pack was hefted over one shoulder and coat collected.

"I'll talk to him." Richie said, as he paused in the elevator, before sliding the grate down and looking out through the slotted wood. "And I'll see you around, Mac."

~~~~

The grind of working gears accompanied Richie's exit from the elevator. His steps were slow and deliberate, as he walked towards the man pacing in agitation by the door. "Adam?"

"What?" Spinning around, anger evident in the lines of his body and face, Adam used his voice as a weapon to try and keep the other Immortal at a distance. His effort was doomed to failure, as the young-looking man stopped an arm length away from him and just watched. No reaching out to touch. No demand for an answer, just a patient silence that invited he divulge his feelings.

"Hell of a shocker, isn't it?" Richie dropped his backpack by the banister of the stairs and proceeding to make him self comfortable on the third to last, stair.

"That's one bloody word for it!" Adam snapped, and then sent a small apologetic smile the other's way.

"The Scot's forgotten what its like." And he ain't the only one! >> "Nothing else comes close to the surreal feeling of it." Shaking his head ruefully, the redhead muttered, "Who the hell would believe it? People running around whacking off each others heads in a "Game" no one knows the point to, and living forever if they manage to avoid that? Yeah, right, and I'm Bill Gates." A bright grin, that just begged to be answered was shot the new Immortal's way. "So, all in all, how're you holding up? You doing okay?"

"No, I'm not bloody well okay! Yesterday my life was normal ... well maybe not so normal, but at least it was understandable. But now ..." Shifting from foot to foot, Adam tried to express the emotions roiling around inside of his.

"Sucks big time, doesn't it? Feels like everything you ever held dear, everything you ever knew has been cast aside and you're being sucked under by the enormity of the transition."

The sympathy and understanding in those blue eyes was almost enough to make him want to cry, the upheaval of everything he held dear, almost more than he could bear. His voice was slightly choked and he murmured, "Yes, it does."

"I know this means nothing to you now – all you can think of is what you've lost. But, time will change that. You'll start to think of all the things you can see and do, and suddenly it won't seem quite so overwhelming."

"Really?" The hope of something better, something he had no need to be fearful of, seemed like a faint flicker of hope amidst the shattered remains of his life.

"Yes," Richie confirmed, rummaging around in his backpack for a pen and some paper. "And until then, if you need someone to talk to ..." He stopped to reconsider the offer, then finished scribbling his number down and passed it over with a grin. "Well, after the next two weeks anyway. Give me a call."

"Thanks." He grasped the paper tightly in his hands, like the lifeline it was to someone who understood his fear and doubt.

"No problem."

"Aren't you afraid I'll take your head?" Wouldn't that be the easiest way to gain power? >>

"Hardly." The small grin widened, as the other man chuckled to himself, but the eyes that rose to meet his were intentionally serious. "You could try, but you wouldn't even come close to swinging by the time you and your head hit the floor."

"So, I guess training is in order then."

"You guess right." Richie retorted with a grin, before his faced returned to more serious lines. "And from what I've heard, you've managed to become the student of one of the best swordsmen around. You could've done a hell of a lot worse, believe me."

"I know."

"He's waiting up there for you."

"I know that, too."

"Life is short, Adam. Immortal or mortal – the sands rule us all. Don't let your wounded pride shorten yours even further than necessary." With that last statement, Richie climbed to his feet, grabbed his backpack and with one last reassuring squeeze on Adam's shoulder, turned and walked towards the main doors.

"Richie ..."

The red-gold head turned so that those startingly blue eyes could meet his again. The youthful features creased once again in a grin. "You're welcome. Now go up and see Mac. He's probably chomping at the bit by now." With a wave he walked through the doors with a careless, "I'll catch you later," settling in his wake.

Turning the piece of paper between his fingers, Adam stood there for a moment, the other's calming words fighting against the irrational anger and fear that roiled inside of him. Shaking his head is rueful disgust, he stood up and started up the stairs, muttering, "God, I hate it when other people are right."

~FIN~

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