Part Four - Worlds End

Some years later

Michele was plunged into darkness when an electrical surge tore through the building. She pounded on the door and walls of her windowless prison. She screamed until her throat was raw, to no avail. Kronos didn't answer. He never answered. Not really. He came for his own reasons, to share his secrets, and other things... And then he'd leave her alone again in her cell. Michele tried not to listen to the terrible tales he'd tell. She tried to blot them out. She tried not to dream of the world's destruction. She tried not to wish it speed. But here, in this living hell, there could be no other dream but for the end to come.

It came at last, the beginning of the end. Not with a bang or a whimper – but with a game show.

Kronos' brother was on the TV. Kronos saw him. He had to find him. He had to kill him. Revenge, he said, for something Methos had done. That's what Kronos had wanted – revenge. But then, the plan changed. He returned with all three of his brothers in tow. He'd found them, he told her, all of them – the heart and mind, the strength and cruelty reunited at last. The end of the world was near at hand, and the horseman would ride again! He was so happy.

And so was she.

Kronos was mad – mad – but still a man of his word. She survived the virus. It didn't kill her. And he didn't kill her. But he never set her free. In the beginning, she was thankful to be alive. She didn't know, then, what it was to wish for death. Not then. Not then. But now … How long had she been in this cell? What day was it? What year? What would he say the next time he opened the door? What would he do to her? She didn't know. She didn't know. She didn't know. And still she pounded on the door, calling Death by his name, begging for him to release her.

~*~

Beyond the soundproof walls, high above Kronos' secret dungeon, Methos was on his knees, weeping. The sound of metal upon stone echoed off the walls as Cassandra dropped the axe she'd lifted to end his miserable life. It was Duncan's command. He wanted Methos to live, and Cassandra owed him. She owed him so much more. And Methos? She'd always believed in a life for a life … and he'd saved hers only moments ago.

They weren't even. Not even close. But still. She dropped the axe to the floor and disappeared silently into the night.

~*~

Duncan sat for awhile with his head in his hands. He listened to Methos' strangled sobs as he wept for the monsters lying at their feet. He didn't understand, he couldn't understand, how Methos could weep for them. When his strength returned he wiped off his sword and climbed to his feet. He took one last look at Methos, wondering if he'd see the ancient immortal ever again.

He left Methos in the company of the dead, and traced his steps back the way he came.

~*~

Methos, alone, now, forever, lifted his eyes to the place where Kronos lay, his head now resting an arm's length from his body. His clear blue eyes – open still – pierced Methos' soul. Those eyes called him brother. They called him traitor. As they always did – and never would again.

~FIN~


A/N: Reviews are appreciated, as always. Thanks to Wendy for the crit.