Haunted

Swords clashed violently and made music in the air as Carter and Richie sparred in the dojo. Their practices were long and exhausting, even for the spectators. Haresh would watch them usually, now that he had free time on his hands while his editor looked over the first draft of his new book on Ancient Native American art. The ancient immortal would offer advice and tips, as well as the occasional bit of encouragement, or the much more frequent jest at the expense of one of the younger immortals. Adam Pierson would occasionally sit in on a practice session too, but more often than not their only visiting watcher was Joe Dawson.

"Keep you tip up Carter! If he really wanted you dead you would have no chance to guard, block, or parry with your sword so misguided." Haresh said from his perch on one of the weight benches. Then he turned his attention to the smirking red-haired immortal.

"And you, Richie! Is your wrist broken? Otherwise, I can't see why the hell it's so damn limp! Really, how on earth did either of you survive this long?"

"We never had to fight you." They answered in unison. Haresh scoffed.

"Honestly Haresh, when was the last time you actually trained?" Carter asked challengingly.

"That is irrelevant." Haresh quashed the mutiny before it had a chance to start. "Now do it again, faster this time."

Haresh had an appointment with a local art dealer roughly an hour later, and Carter accompanied him to the meeting. They bade Richie a brief farewell, and left him to train by himself until he felt like leaving. He had been hard at work practicing his katana kata he had picked up from Mac when he heard the door open and close. He turned around, anxious to see who it was.

He saw a beautiful brunette woman standing a few feet away from him. She wore a deep cut shirt and a short skirt, and her skin was slightly tanned and clear. Richie felt something pulling him to her, but he resisted it. He had Carter, he told himself firmly, and she wasn't that good-looking anyway. Still the tugging persisted.

"Hey." He said in greeting.

"You're pretty good." She said to him.

'Bullshit.' Richie thought. He sucked at katana kata, and quite frankly every other kata Mac had ever seen fit to teach him.

"Thanks." He said anyway. "It looks pretty stupid unless you picture the other guy." He continued. Actually, it looked stupid whether you pictured the other guy or not. She flirted uselessly before she offered her name and her hand to shake.

"I'm Jenifer Hill."

"Richie Ryan." He answered, and shook her hand firmly. He thought that if he seemed more professional, she might lay off a bit.

"I'm here to see Duncan Macleod." She explained.

"Lucky man." Richie had no idea why he'd said that. It was as if it had been someone else talking instead of him. What had happened to not flirting with her?

He gave her a lift up to the living area of the Dojo, and immediately wanted to leave. He felt like that was rude though, and it might get him back into Mac's bad graces. Then again, it wasn't as if he was in Mac's good graces either. Their relationship seemed to have hit a firewall after the conversation (read: humiliating rejection) at Cory's cabin a few weeks ago.

"Look who I found." He said after Mac had hung up the phone.

The highlander turned around, at first very anxious as to who Richie might have brought up to see him. But then he did a double take. It was Jen, Alec's beautiful wife. He rose from his seat on the couch and embraced his visitor before pulling back to greet her.

"Jenifer! Hi! It's been…two years!" then he looked around, noticing that something was missing. "Where's Alec?" he asked her.

Jenifer looked down at the floor and studied her shoes before she pulled her face back up to and answered the question in a very choked whisper.

"Gone." Mac's happy expression melted.

"I'm so sorry." He said. "When?" he queried softly as he embraced her once more, this time placing a reassuring hand on her back.

"Last Summer; after a hundred and ten years, he finally found Gerard Kragan."

Richie saw Duncan's features darken immensely at the sound of the name that slipped from Jenifer's lips. He himself felt his fingers itching to grasp a cigarette. That was new…

Richie really didn't want to stay at Joe's and babysit Jenifer while Mac drove all night to San Francisco. The pull was getting stronger, and the only way he could cope at all was to chain smoke Marlboro reds. He welcomed the reprieve Jenifer's trip to the bathroom offered, and he was even happier for the distraction Joe provided him when he came over to talk.

"You smoking now?" the old man asked him.

"Hey Joe, listen, I need some advice." Richie said hurriedly, ignoring the query about the cigarette.

"Tell me about it," he friend replied. "You and Alec Hill's wife?"

"It's not what you think." Richie began to explain. "Mac asked me to take care of her tonight while he goes to San Francisco."

"Why's he in Frisco?"

"He's going to whack the son of a bitch that killed husband."

Joe's face darkened, and his features took on a very hard attribute. He beckoned Richie over to the bar and led him to it. He quickly motioned for two shots of tequila, and offered both glasses to the young immortal before he explained himself.

"Richie," he began gently. "You're the son of a bitch who killed her husband." Richie's mind reeled, trying to process that information.

"There's no way, I never even met the guy!" Joe raised an eyebrow.

"Oh yeah? How about San Francisco, late July, last year."

Richie let the date sink in, and then he suddenly remembered the exact day Joe had to be talking about. His bike had broken down and he's pulled over into the nearest parking lot. Then a car had pulled up with an angry driver behind the wheel, and they'd argued. Then the man, handsome and brunette, had pulled out a US Calvary saber form his passenger seat.

"It was live or die Joe." He tried to explain. "I didn't even know his name. I certainly didn't know that he had a wife!" he said under his breath.

"Everyone leaves someone behind Richie." Joe told him as he poured the immortal anther shot of tequila.

Then Jenifer was there, trying to coax him into taking her home. Richie wanted to run away, he felt as if she were a toxic fume. He felt so guilty, so sad, and so angry at himself for even talking to her. He hastily offered an excuse, and left her at the bar with Joe.

He was the worse for wear when he arrived home. Carter asked him what was wrong. Haresh asked him if he felt unwell. The terrible truth was that Richie was not alright, and he felt terribly unwell, and the worst thing about the whole situation as that he was that his emotions were raging to be free, for him to spill everything, but he couldn't.

Richie never went to bed that night. He stayed on the couch, promised Carter he would eventually come join him in their bedroom. He watched his lover retreat with sweetly concerned eyes, and he hated himself. He wasn't sure if it was for lying to Carter, or for murdering Alec Hill. He admitted to himself that it was a lot of both as he walked to the dojo at around three in the morning.

He hadn't slept. All he saw when he closed his eyes was Alec Hill coming at him with his sword brandished in anger, and Jenifer so eager and willing to let him into her bed. He wanted to slice his own throat. And then Duncan came in, and it all got infinitely worse from there.

Richie stood up, his heart pounding in his ears and his tongue too sluggish and thick to form words. He was terrified. For the first time in his life, mortal or immortal, he was truly guilt-ridden.

"Hey Mac, I need to tell you something." He said as his teacher strode past him and towards the elevator.

"Can it wait until after I've had a shower Richie?" the highlander asked.

"No." Richie said as firmly as he could manage. "It can't wait."

"Where's Jenifer?" Mac asked him.

"Sleeping on your couch, but that's not what I have to tell you." He said. The highlander looked at him expectantly.

"Well?" he asked. Richie took a deep breath. He wondered if it would be his last.

"Kragan didn't kill Alec Hill." He began. "I did. I didn't know until last night when Joe told me. We met outside Kragan Studios last summer. My broke had quit on me and I was trying to fix it. He pulled in and he was in a hurry. I told him to find another way in, because that bike wasn't moving. He grabbed his sword and we fought." Mac was angry. He could tell. The large man as practically shaking with anger.

"You could have walked away! You killed him over nothing!" Mac said.

"That's not true Mac." Richie said, He found a tiny bit of anger sinking into him now, quelling the anxiety. "It was a fair fight and I won. What have you been teaching me for if you didn't expect me to answer a challenge and win? What did you want me to do, let him kill me?"

Mac remained silent.

"After all of you experience, why don't you tell me what to do? You obviously thin you can handle anything and everything better than I can, so why don't you just tell me what I should have done?" he asked him angrily. "You know what? I'm just gonna tell her the truth." Richie turned ton walk toward the lift, but Mac's voice halted him.

"No you won't."

"Maybe she'll understand."

"She's not gonna understand! You killed her husband!"

"I KNOW!" Richie finally couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't stand another reminder of what he'd done. He couldn't stand anymore judgment, but he knew it wasn't over. It would never be over.

"I'm going to let her think that the man who killed her husband is dead, and you-" He turned to Richie, "Are going to leave town."

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Richie felt dead inside as he walked back to the apartment much later that night. He'd called Amanda a few hours before, telling her goodbye. He'd called Joe too, but he couldn't risk talking to Carter. He couldn't bare telling Carter goodbye. His heart was sore and weary as he entered the apartment through the far window.

The lights were all switched off, and he gave a sigh of relief. His beaten heart jerked though as the living room was flooded with light. He dropped to the floor and rolled behind the couch, but the damage was already done.

"Where the bloody hell have you been all day?" Carter demanded. "What is wrong with you?" the blonde immortal asked as he strode very close to Richie and took his face in his hands. He forced Richie to turn his eyes up, to look at his face as he continued.

"Amanda called and said there was something wrong with you, that you were leaving! What are you thinking?" he paused here to breathe deeply. "Why won't you talk to me damn it?" this last part was tearful and choked. Richie wished desperately he could avoid those tear-stained eyes as he answered, but Carter held his face in a firm grip.

"A woman came to town to see Mac, to get him to kill the man she thought killed her husband." Carter nodded when Richie paused here, egging him on. "But she was wrong. I Killed her husband, last summer, and she was flirting with me the whole time we were at the bar last night. I told Mac, and he's…I really think he hates me now Carter. I killed his friend. He told me to leave town." His voice dided after that, And Carter looked at him, expecting more with this kind of reaction.

When nothing else came, he issued a short, barking laugh. Richie looked at him, his eyes now overflowing with tears, confused.

"This isn't funny! I'm sorry! I didn't-" Carter shut him up with a long, bruising kiss. When he pulled away for air, Carter tipped Richie's chin up. Once he had finally caught his breath, he opened his mouth to speak.

"I was terrified that you had slept with her, for a second there, but that's forgivable. I thought Mac had challenged you, when Amanda called me, and that you were fleeing town because of him. I was about to get my sword and challenge him myself." He shook his head. "So, just to clarify, you're upset because you killed an immortal who happened to be a friend of Mac's, and whose widow is trying to get you in her pants?"

"You make it sound like it's nothing!" Richie said angrily.

"The only thing I can be upset with you for is not telling me!" Carter said, "And trying to leave without saying goodbye to me! Don't you think that you mean more to me than that? Didn't you think that I would miss you?" he demanded, not angry, just wanting an answer. Richie sighed.

"I'm sorry. I didn't think. I was just really, really…" he trailed off, not sure what to say.

"You were scared." Carter finished for him. "You're still scared, but you're staying, you understand?" Carter asked him. Richie nodded slowly.

"But Mac-"

"He gave up any jurisdiction over your actions when he made an ass of himself at the Cabin. You'll leave when you're good and ready to, and not because some bimbo widow strolls into Mac's dojo wanting a hit-job." The blonde said firmly.

"You're not mad?" Richie asked him, stunned.

"No." Carter said as a smile broke out on his face. "I'm tired, and I'm sick from worry, and I missed you last night. Now come on; we'll get cleaned up, and we'll crawl in bed, and we'll put this all behind us." Richie smiled, feeling a dark curtain lift from around him for the first time since last night, when Joe had clued him in.

"I'd really like that." He said.

Carter was toweling off when he heard the faint sound of voices from the main room containing the kitchen and living room. He wasn't concerned, because he hadn't felt a fresh buzz; it wasn't an immortal. He continued drying off and pulled a pair of flannel pants and a loose long-sleeved shirt.

He was about crawl into bed and let Richie or Haresh deal with their visitor, when he noticed the sharp increase in volume from one of the voices. It was a woman, and she was obviously very angry.

"You bastard! You killed my husband!" the woman shrieked.

Without sparing thought to the matter, Carter leapt across the bedroom to the doorway with his rapier in hand. He rounded the corner and saw a pretty brunette woman standing in the living room with Richie. Her face was flushed with anger, and her eyes were practically narrowed to slits.

"How could you even talk to me?" she demanded.

"I didn't know I killed him when I met you." Richie said, forcing himself to keep his voice at a calm level. "I never meant to hurt you!"

"You sick son of a bitch!" she yelled at him.

Then, without another word, she stormed out of the apartment. She slammed the door behind with such force that the impact reverberated through every wall in the apartment. Both immortals could hear the clicking of her heels quite clearly as she left the building.

When the sound had faded, Carter entered the main room completely. He laid his sword on the coffee table, and approached his lover from behind. Gently, he placed his hands on Richie's shoulders, and squeezed. The gesture was meant to be reassuring, comforting, but it succeeded only minimally.

"What the hell was I thinking?" Richie asked no one in particular.

"You're not a bad person Richie; you couldn't let her go on believing that her husband had been avenged when he really hadn't. You had to tell her the truth. If that doesn't prove to you that you're not evil, I don't know what will." Carter answered as he pulled the other immortal towards the couch.

They sat down and waited for Haresh to join them. When the knock on the door came approximately two hours later, they were sure it was him, even though neither of them felt the buzz. They dismissed it as a tolerance for Haresh, or distractions brought on from earlier evens of the day.

Richie strode across the apartment to the door and Carter went into their bedroom for a blanket to use while they stayed on the couch. The redhead certainly hadn't expected to see Jen again. He let her in, hoping that she was here to say good bye and reconcile; maybe Macleod had talked to her. At that thought, a tiny glimmering beacon of hope sparked into life in Richie's chest, that maybe he could regain the friendship he'd lost with Mac.

"I've finally figured out what I need to do to put this behind me." Jen said. She clasped her hands slightly to keep them from shaking. Her voice was barely above a whisper, and there was a dark edge to it that Richie's couldn't quite place.

"That's great." He said, trying his very best to be encouraging.

But then he saw Jen take the sleek black firearm out from behind her back. His eyes widened, and he tried to call for Carter. But before he could make any sound at all, Jen had pulled the trigger. Richie fell to the floor with a loud enough noise to draw the attention of the downstairs neighbors, even if the sound of the gunshot hadn't done that already.

Carter an into the room just in time to witness Jen take Richie's sword in her hand and pull the trigger once more. He watched the second bullet rock his lover's body in tremors until the light left his eyes.

The blonde was furious, too furious to consider the two buzzes he felt fast approaching from the hallway. He rushed across the room and skidded to a halt just in time for his sword to dig into the pale flesh of Jen's throat. She gasped in shock, but she didn't drop Richie's sword.

They were both startled by the sound of the door being kicked open, and the arrival of Haresh and Duncan. The Highlander lowered his, but Haresh kept his piece of Damascus steel trained on Jenifer Hill's chest as he circled around to stand by Carter.

"Put it down Jen, don't do this." Duncan pleaded with her. "Please out it down!"

"Don't try to stop me." She said shakily.

"Richie didn't mean to hurt you." Duncan said as he dared take another step towards her. "He's not like that." He added.

"He killed Alec." She argued, sounding very much like a pathetic distraught child to Carter's ears.

"And I'll kill you if you don't drop that sword." He said, with voice like frozen venom.

Duncan shot the blonde a glare, a warning look that he supposed was meant to intimidate. Carter returned it with full force, and then turned his gaze back to the woman standing over Richie's body with his sword in her hands. He dug the tip of his sword into her neck, just a tiny bit, for emphasis, to remind her that his threat was very real.

"And killing him won't bring Alec back." The highlander argued. "If any part of Alec still lives, it's inside Richie! It's what Alec believed and it's what you wanted to believe!" he added hastily.

"You don't understand." She said. "Alec's here. He needs me to do it so he can rest in peace."

"Killing doesn't bring peace." Haresh interrupted her. His voice was cold and hard like sharpened rocks. "When you kill, it haunts you forever. Maybe you think that killing Richie will bring you peace, absolve your want for him, but it won't." he continued. "You have a choice, but Richie didn't. Whether you accept it or not, Alec Hill issued a challenge and lost; it's hardly Richie's fault that your husband let his anger get the better of him."

"You're not helping here!" Duncan hissed at him.

"I don't give a damn about your friend Duncan Macleod." Haresh answered. "I care about Richie continuing to live, with Alec Hill haunting him, just as Graham Ashe haunts me." He turned back to the Jen, and lowered his sword.

"Get out. Leave and move on. That is the only way you will find peace, believe me. I can't count on one hand the number of my loved ones still breathing, and all the rest I have watched die; I know."

The rapier fell to the ground with a horrendously loud clang of metal on wood. Jen shakily retreated from the apartment, hot tears flowing down her cheeks and smearing her make-up. Haresh accompanied her out, and left Carter and Duncan staring down at Richie's body.

Duncan stood to go, but Carter stopped him by grabbing his arm. The dark-haired immortal looked into his grey eyes, and saw a hard determination in them that he knew he couldn't contend with.

"You know what you have to do." Carter said. He loped a few feet across the apartment to stand in the front doorway, and then turned back around to face Duncan. "If you hurt him again, I will kill you Highlander. Do you understand that? I don't expect you to lie to him as to whether you accept us being together, but I do expect you care about him at least a little." Duncan was offended, and he let it show through his eyes as he responded to Carter.

"I do care about Richie, more than you ever could!" Carter laughed, and then his eyes turned hard again as he replied.

"Really? Which of us put him back together after you tried to take his head? Which of us supported him in telling her the truth? Which of us loves him enough to accept his choices?" he paused to let the weight of his words sink into that thick highland skull. "If you care about him Duncan Macleod, you have a very funny way of showing it."

"What do you want me to do?" Duncan asked after a long, pensive pause to consider what had been said to him. He couldn't deny that there was a great deal of truth in the blonde's words.

"Give him a chance. You know he misses you, that he considers you to be the closest thing he ever had to a father, that he feels guilty that he survived and Tessa didn't? If you care about him even half as much as he cares for you, I might just come to like you." Carter ended with a smile, and turned to leave the apartment.

"I don't doubt that you care Highlander," he called over his shoulder, "I just wish you'd let him know it."

Duncan seated himself on the bench to the side of the door. He gripped Richie's sword in his hand. When the younger immortal revived not a moment later, he took a deep, preparatory breath.

"She's gone." He said. "She can walk away, you can't" he ceded. Richie looked at him confused and concerned.

"Where's Carter?" his former student demanded. For the first time, Duncan realized how much Richie must care for the blonde, for that to have been his first waking thought.

"He's waiting for me to leave, outside with Haresh." Duncan told him truthfully as Richie rose to his feet.

"Is she gonna be okay?" Richie asked him.

"In time." Mac answered. "She's dealing with her demons."

"What about us Mac?" Riche asked tentatively. "You and me?"

"You screwed up Rich." He answered. "But it happens…" and then he added, "to all of us." That was as close as he would come to apologizing for his words at the cabin, and Richie realized that. He just hoped that it would be enough to mend their shattered relationship. Truth be told, he missed the kid too.

"I swear, even if I live to be a thousand, I'll still see that guy coming at me, and I'll wonder if there was something I could have done differently." He said as he took a seat next to Duncan on the bench.

"I know." Duncan offered, meaning for it to be comforting. "And he won't be the last. They all stay with you."

"I didn't know you believe in ghosts." Richie said, trying to steer their conversation onto a more cheerful note.

"I believe in the kind you carry with you – everyone you've killed and everyone you've loved. They never leave you." He turned to face his friend eye-to-eye. "When you stop feeling, when you stop hurting, that's when you're dead inside; and that my friend, is when I'll worry about you."

The two immortals shared a smile, and Duncan left. When Haresh and Carter entered the apartment roughly five minutes later, they noticed a profound difference in the young immortal. He was cheerful, and he moved briskly about the apartment. He smiled, and for the first time they had ever seen, it reached his bright blue eyes.

After a momentary dip, their lives together were back and looking up again. They couldn't help but wonder however, as they lay in their beds waiting for sleep to take them, how long it would last.