Methos and Kronos went up to get a closer look at the wooden markers. All the crosses had names on them, only first names and all men's names, but none of them were ringing any bells for the two brothers. They felt another quickening and turned around and saw Caspian approaching them.
"Well," he said, "I see you found our gravesite."
"Who's buried here?" Methos asked.
"This is the pet cemetery," Caspian told them.
"The what?"
Caspian didn't explicitly say Mouth, but he told them, "She hates dogs, always has."
Methos and Kronos looked back at the crosses and Methos said, "She killed them? All of them?"
Caspian wouldn't go into many details but explained that she had kicked and stomped several of them to death; what seemed to do the trick was their barking, she could only listen to it for so long before she went out to the backyard and killed them to shut them up.
"I guess there is a bright side to Immortals not having children," Methos murmured to Kronos.
"Exactly where did you two meet?" Kronos asked.
"Who remembers?" Caspian replied, "Anymore it just seems that I woke up one day and she was there, like a wart."
"But you two have managed somehow to get this far without killing each other," Methos noted.
"It's not for lack of trying, believe me," Caspian said with a shake of his head.
"Now don't tell me you're starting to lose your touch," Kronos said, "You being outdone by that woman?"
"Not merely outdone," Mouth said as she joined the three men in the backyard, "Outsmarted, an area that is not his expertise."
"I know what you mean," Methos said as he glanced over at Kronos.
"This certainly is a big place you have," Methos told Mouth later that afternoon as he got a better look at the place.
"Well it should be," she told him, "It was a House of Prayer about 30 years ago, then the place was foreclosed or condemned or something, and nobody's used it since, not until we came around."
Methos started laughing, "My brother Caspian living in a church, somehow I just can't see it."
"Well," she replied, "It's out of the way of civilization, no neighbors, nobody to complain about the noise…"
"And it's a rarity for your home to be your sanctuary," Methos said, "That's very smart."
"Have you ever done it?" Mouth asked.
"A couple of times," Methos said, "I wouldn't mind doing it again except…it wouldn't be a possibility right now."
"Why not?" she asked him.
"It's a long story," he said, not wanting to get into the whole mess of the Watchers right now.
"You ought to move in with us," Mouth told him, "It could certainly liven things up around here."
"A tempting offer," Methos said, "But I think I'll have to pass."
The months passed, fall turned to winter, and winter to spring, and then in the middle of April, Methos, Silas and Kronos returned to their brother's home again, but for different reasons this time. Methos came with the bad news that the apartment he lived in was being sold, and under his current identity he couldn't afford to move into a more permanent establishment, so for the time being he was going to have to take them up on their previous offer. Kronos and Silas arrived with much luggage and the bad news that the house they owned in Texas had been destroyed by a tornado and that they would be staying with Caspian and his wife until further notice. The brothers were greeted with fully open arms but only half full smiles.
"I get the impression that we're not wanted here," Methos confided in Kronos as they unpacked.
"Who cares?" Kronos responded, "We're family, we stay whether we're wanted or not."
Methos rolled his eyes and said, "It's no wonder you never married."
"I was married," Kronos told him.
"When?"
Kronos looked at him for a minute before replying, "Never mind. So what have you been up to that I don't know about?"
"Well, I'm thinking it's time I did something new with Adam Pierson," Methos said, and before he could continue he could already hear Kronos groaning in the anticipation of what he had in mind, "I've been in the Watchers for almost 10 years now, my furthest status is a mild mannered graduate student."
"So what?"
"So it's getting a little boring," Methos answered.
"And what do you plan to do now?" Kronos asked.
"I thought I'd apply as a professor at the university."
He heard no words in response from Kronos at first, only snickering, followed by, "And that's not boring?"
"It'll be a nice change of pace," Methos told him, "I've got to do something with him otherwise people are going to start getting curious and asking questions."
"Ah," Kronos nodded, "So your solution is spending your days hiding out in a stuffy classroom, the perfect place where asking questions is prohibited." He turned and saw Methos looked irritated by his response, "Come on, Brother, it's common knowledge you're not that good of a teacher, in anything."
"Gee, thanks for your vote of confidence," Methos dryly remarked, "And what, may I ask, have you been doing to keep yourself occupied recently?"
"Cutting up corpses," Kronos told him.
"Old habits die hard, don't they?" Methos asked.
"You have a problem with coroners?"
"Not at all," Methos answered, "So long as they keep their hands and their sharp little instruments away from my carcass until I can get up and leave on my own accord."
Kronos laughed, "Too bad, I had plans for you in that autopsy room."
Methos knew that was just his brother's dark sense of humor at play, but still he couldn't help feeling the familiar icy chill of pins and needles in his back when he heard that.
Methos went looking for Silas and quickly realized he wasn't anywhere to be found in the house, so he went around the yard and found Silas in the back; and when Methos found him, he appeared to be digging a grave.
"Who's that for?" Methos asked.
Silas turned and looked at his brother, and grumbled something Methos couldn't understand and pointed over to the other side of the yard. Methos looked and quickly got his answer when he saw two large, dead raccoons with their skulls bashed in.
"Let me guess," he said, resisting the urge to vomit, "Mouth?"
"Who else?" Silas asked, though it was obvious he hadn't actually seen it happen, "You know if it had been Caspian, he would've eaten them."
"Maybe not," Methos replied as he nodded towards the seven crosses, "Why do we even bother coming back to this place?"
Silas thought about it for a minute before suggesting, "Maybe it's the sadist in us."
Methos laughed and said, "Must be…I'll say this for Caspian, he seems to have finally met his match in that woman. Who do you think will be the first one to kill the other?"
Silas shook his head and just said, "It wouldn't happen, those two are like the countries in nuclear war, both of those warheads would go off at the same time and kill each other in the explosion and everybody else in the process." He looked back to Methos who just seemed to be staring off into space, "Something troubling you, brother?"
That brought Methos back to reality. "No, just thinking…Silas, were you ever married?"
"A few times."
"Ever to an Immortal?" Methos asked.
Silas paused for a moment and thought back, finally shaking his head, "No."
"Me either. Would you?"
"I don't know," Silas said, "I never cared much for marriage. Why?"
"I was just thinking…you know I buried my last wife a few years back…and when I say last, I wish she was, I wish she truly were the last one…I've tried to convince myself that I'm too old to keep doing this, I know what's going to happen every time, and I still do it…I've tried to convince myself that I don't need it anymore, that I have no use for it anymore."
"For what?" Silas asked.
Methos paused for a second before saying, "I let myself fall head over heels for any woman that appeals to me, and in a few years I'm burying her and starting again…it'd be easier if I never fell in love with anyone again, it'd be easier if I never felt anything again."
"You forget you tried that once before," Silas reminded him, "It didn't work."
"I know, but I wish it would've," Methos said, "I don't need to bury anymore wives, but I can't live alone the rest of my life, I've tried that too and it also didn't work."
Silas buried the blade of the shovel in the ground and turned around to face his brother as he said, "Maybe that's why you keep coming back to this place and…" he stopped as they both heard a commotion from inside the house, first something breaking, and then people screaming, "Those people."
"It must be," Methos replied, "It's certainly not because of their great hospitality."
Methos waited until the noise died down in the house before he went in. He found Mouth in the kitchen cutting up potatoes and putting them in a boiling pan of water.
"What's going on in here?" he asked.
"Nothing, your brother and I were just having a little discussion," she answered.
"Why am I not surprised?" Methos said, "What about?"
"Nothing important," she said.
"Mouth," he said to her, "Is it true that you killed the seven dogs that are buried in the backyard?"
"Yeah, why?" she asked.
"Why?"
"I don't like dogs," she said, "I'm just no good with animals, or children, I hate them both. I hate babies, they're always screaming their heads off, I can't stand the noise."
"And the dogs?"
"They never shut up," Mouth told him, "Day and night they'd bark all the time, they never stopped…I couldn't take it." She looked at him and hawed, "You're not one of those bleeding heart animal lovers are you?"
"Me? No," he said, "Silas however…" he didn't finish the thought, because it was just then that Kronos and Caspian entered the kitchen and the two seemed to be in a heated discussion of their own.
They couldn't understand what the two brothers were saying to each other, but they both crowded in on Mouth at the table; Caspian stood with his back to her and his hand kept getting in the way of the potatoes she was cutting. Then Methos saw Mouth get a weird look in her eyes; she grabbed Caspian's hand and repositioned it on the table, he didn't notice because he was too engrossed at arguing with Kronos. Methos watched as she straightened out his fingers and then with the tips of her thumb and index finger, grabbed the tip of his pinky finger and raised the knife right over it, with the blade's tip down on the table, so when she brought the knife down it would chop his finger right off. Just for show, she raised the handle of the knife even higher just before slamming it down, but right before she did, Caspian pulled his hand away and she came down stabbing the table instead. Mouth let out a frustrate scream as she buried the tip of the knife clear through the cutting board instead. Kronos and Caspian turned and looked at her as if seeing her for the first time, and neither could understand what was the matter with her.
"Have you considered putting her on antidepressants?" Kronos asked him.
The summer passed uneventfully for the most part; the temperature reached highs of 120 on average and never dropped below 80 at night. Storms were a given; every week on the same night, they were met with high winds and pouring rain and hail stones ranging from marble sized to baseball size, denting the roof and sometimes busting the windows. On a few occasions, wall clouds formed and they watched and waited to see if anything would come out of the clouds, but nothing ever did. On the 4th of July it rained and Methos and Mouth resided on the front porch and tossed lit smoke bombs and firecrackers off the side and watched the explosions in midair and the colored bombs spinning around in the puddles as the water became stained with the colors of the smoke. Then at night they about burnt the whole house down when a large pack of bottle rockets was prematurely lit and came flying back at them.
"I still can't understand how or why you chose to marry my brother," he said to her one day as the two of them wandered around the land as everything became coated in the pink light of the sun setting that evening.
"Neither do I," she replied as she kicked at a rock, "I think it must've been one of those drunk night in Vegas things."
"But why do you stay?" Methos wanted to know.
"Why shouldn't I?" she asked as she turned around to face him, "I've stayed with your brother long enough, we've come to terms with what there is between us, and we've still agreed to stay together…maybe it's just too late in the game for either of us to try and live again."
"You really think that?" he asked her.
"Show me the idiot who said marriage is an institution, I'll show you somebody who never married," Mouth told him, "Marriage isn't an institution, it's an insane asylum."
"Tell me about it," Methos said, "I've done it 68 times."
"Ever to an Immortal?" she asked.
"No," he answered with a shake of his head.
"Why not?"
"Too much responsibility," was his explanation as he walked past her.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean?" Mouth asked.
"I don't know," Methos confessed, "I've been saying that for so long, I don't even remember how or when I started using it."
"So what's the real reason why you never married an Immortal?" she inquired.
"I don't know," Methos said, "Maybe in my own sick twisted way I've gotten used to the idea of just being married for a few years and then starting again."
"Whereas if you're like your brother and I," Mouth told him, "Divorce is out…widowing is out, you're stuck together for life, however long that is."
"We should all be so lucky," Methos commented.
Mouth turned to look at him, "What's that mean?"
"Nothing," he said as he kept his head low, "Come on, let's get back to the house."
Mouth walked behind him and said, "You know, Methos, I have an idea you and I could get along a hell of a lot better if we could get away from those three idiots you call brothers."
"Maybe," Methos considered, and it sounded to Mouth like he planned to say more but instead he turned away and looked around at the land.
"What is it?" she asked as she came up behind him.
For a minute he just stood frozen, staring straight ahead, then he seemed to realize she was talking to him and he turned to her and said, "What? Oh, nothing, come on, they'll be looking for us soon."
Mouth snorted and replied, "That'll be the day."
