Methos was exhausted, he hadn't gotten a decent night's sleep for about a week, but then again he told himself, he hadn't had a good night's sleep for several years. He and Kronos were wearing out each other's nerves after two days stuck together on an airplane and another two out in the woods with only each other to talk to. It had been agreed, though Methos couldn't remember now who had come to the decision, that they would get Silas first from the Ukraine, and then bust Caspian out of the booby hatch over in Bucharest.
He supposed from a geographical standpoint it made sense, but to him it didn't make much difference, either way they'd have to travel the same distance to pick up one, then the other, then head over to Bordeaux. He remembered the stories in the Watcher chronicles about Evan Caspari; authorities had come out onto his property and found the remains of dozens of people scattered all over his home. The insanity plea had prevailed and instead of executing him in a prison, they had confined him to some God forsaken nut house.
For the days between when they picked up Silas to when they headed to Romania, Methos felt like a zombie, all the time he zoned out when Kronos was talking. He wasn't even sure where he went but he was sure, in his mind anyway, he was going somewhere, trying to get as far away from his brothers as possible.
The night before they were to pick up Caspian, they had stopped at a hotel in Giurgiu to stay the night. Methos and Kronos slept in one bed and Silas in the other, though Methos didn't remember sleeping much. He did recall at one time in the night, feeling somebody's hand on him. He had been used to games of that sort for the last 20 years or more and forgot who he was with and slapped the hand away, saying, "Leave me alone, I'm not in the mood tonight."
The response to that had been a slap across the face so loud it echoed through the room like a gunshot.
"What did you say?" Kronos asked.
Methos opened his eyes and saw it was Kronos he was in bed with, and remembering his place, said, "I must've been dreaming."
"Well quit having dreams like that," Kronos told him.
For a moment, Methos considered the possibility that he'd like to cut off Kronos' head himself. And as bad as things were now, he knew they'd be even worse once they got Caspian, especially considering they had about a 1400 mile flight ahead of them before they even reached Bordeaux, and then the real trouble would start.
Could things get any worse? Of course they could, but at the moment it didn't appear so. They had gone to the insane asylum, a doctor had been killed and now Caspian was out in society again, the horror of it all. Luckily time was pressing since they had a plane to catch in the morning, so they headed back to the hotel room they'd reserved for the night.
Once they got there, Kronos pushed Caspian into the bathroom with Methos and Silas following to watch and see what would happen now. Kronos turned the shower on full blast, then he took out his knife and cut off the rags that had been serving as the clothes Caspian had worn for the two years he had been locked in that dungeon of a basement in the lunatic asylum. When they were gone and Caspian stood there wearing only the dirt and grime that had just about become a part of him during his ordeal, Kronos shoved him into the shower. He hit the wall and stayed pressed against it, not moving as the scalding hot water poured down on him.
Methos had thought the worst was over for the night, but got quite a shock when Kronos turned to him and told him to clean Caspian up.
"Me?" he couldn't hide the disgust and surprise in his voice.
"Why not?" Kronos didn't wait for an answer, "If he gives you any trouble," he laughed, "Of course, I'm sure you can handle him."
It was all Methos could do not to strangle Kronos on his way out of the bathroom. The two of them left, leaving Methos and Caspian alone. Methos grumbled as he took off his own clothes so they wouldn't be soaked all night, and got in the shower behind Caspian. Already the dirt and muck was running off his body like blood under the shower head; Methos picked up the bar of soap and said to Caspian, "One word out of you and I'll kill you", then proceeded to try and scrub the skin off his brother.
Caspian did one better than that, in addition to not saying anything, he didn't even move, Methos had to grab him and turn him around the whole time he washed him. When that incident was finally over, Methos turned off the water, got both of them dried off and then pushed Caspian out of the shower and into the bedroom.
Only a few more days, Methos tried to convince himself, only a few more days and then he'd get his life back…maybe.
"Methos?" Caspian said, trying to get his brother's attention.
But Methos was too tired and too depressed to listen. He climbed into bed alongside his brother and just told him, "Go to sleep, Caspian."
Caspian didn't know what was going on but he did as he was told. The next day, they got him a change of clothes and left for the airport. During the flight out to Bordeaux, Methos went over in his head the things he had been told so long ago; about Kronos and his virus and the monkeys and the submarine base. And he knew what he had to do…draw MacLeod out of the hotel, leaving Cassandra by herself, Kronos and the others would go get here and then everything would be ready for phase two by the time he returned to the base.
He'd been told what to expect but it couldn't compare to seeing the place for himself. It was about as he expected but the place looked a bit eccentric even for Kronos. Methos looked around at everything, still not quite sure what to expect. It wouldn't have surprised him if Kronos had seen to installing a few booby traps around the place, he always did have a twisted sense of humor.
His feet were killing him but he wasn't really sure he dared sit down on anything, knowing Kronos…but Methos knew he had to go along and let them believe that he was still one of them. He'd had to force himself to adapt to this new surrounding as his temporary home for the next few days. How long? Let's see, it was only yesterday that they'd broken Caspian out of the nut house. MacLeod and Cassandra were no doubt on their way to Bordeaux if they weren't here already. He'd check with the hotel and see if they'd checked in yet. Then he'd call MacLeod…but first, there was the matter of finding the virus and making his little suggestion to Kronos about a bomb.
Methos was sure he was blowing his cover. He felt like Kronos could see right through him. It had to be obvious; he hardly ate and he didn't sleep, he just stayed up at night pacing around the submarine base. He just wanted it to be over. Soon it would be, he had to remind himself of that. Tomorrow he would present Kronos with his idea of the bomb, 'start small and build' and all that crap he'd been memorizing for years.
The isolation was the worst part; for two thousand years his brothers were all the company he needed but now he couldn't stand to be around them. And yet he was stuck with them; he was stuck by himself with all these thoughts racing around inside of his head and they just went in circles. There wasn't anybody he could talk to about what was happening, and no way to get in contact with anybody who would understand. After everything that had happened already, he wasn't sure if once this whole mess was over, if he'd be too welcomed around Joe's bar again either, even if the bloody highlander wasn't there. There was a reason why he didn't usually make his past the topic of dinner conversation, even among other Immortals.
Caspian came into the room and found Methos crouched down in a corner of the room, looking pretty much asleep already. He went over to his brother, pulled Methos up and walked him back into their quarter. Even in a place as big as the base was, Kronos still saw fit to pair Methos and Caspian together in the same room. Why that was, Methos didn't know, he supposed it was just Kronos's sadistic streak shining through again. Caspian pushed Methos over to the bed and knocked him down on it; Methos was too tired to even notice. He did however, somewhere in the deep recesses of his mind consider he and Caspian having to bunk together as a crime against humanity. He vaguely recalled having to do it thousands of years ago and several times he woke up with Caspian biting him because he'd gotten hungry in his sleep.
Methos lay motionless on the bed with the weight of his brother pressing into his back. His eyes were open only a fraction of the way; but though he looked and acted for the most part like a corpse, there was one thought going through his mind at that time: Kronos, you're going to pay for what you've done to me.
Methos had called MacLeod and told him to come to the church knowing that MacLeod would come, now there was just the hardest part of it all, the waiting.
Methos forced himself to sit down and stay there until MacLeod got there, but all the time he felt like doing what he did best, run away and avoid the confrontation. For a moment he started to seriously consider what would happen if he did, if he just left now before MacLeod could get there, and didn't go back to Kronos, maybe he wouldn't even go back to Seacouver.
But he knew it would be no good, Kronos would find him, he had made that clear enough a few days ago when Methos returned to the power station.
"No, you're too smart for that, you know that I'd track you down and kill you, no matter how long it took."
Evidently. He hadn't been able to let go of his grudge against Methos from 2000 years ago, if he were to disappear now there was no telling what Kronos would do. Methos tried to think, MacLeod should be there soon, then all he had to do was keep him occupied long enough for his brothers to go to the hotel and get Cassandra, how long would that take? Not long, he knew, his brothers were very efficient in that regard.
Methos was about to drive himself crazy with his pestering thoughts when he felt Duncan's quickening, here they went again, he thought.
"Well, I'm here," Duncan said.
Yes MacLeod, Methos thought to himself, you're here...you're here and I'm here, and your little witch whore is all alone, and my brothers are on the way to pick her up. The clock was ticking and the only thing to wonder was when it was going to run out.
Methos returned to the base ready for the next phase of the plan. He feigned shock when Kronos had told him he'd sent both Silas and Caspian out after MacLeod, but in reality it was something he'd been long anticipating.
"Why both of them?" he asked, "You know MacLeod's not that good."
"It's not about that," Kronos said, "I want him to feel the walls closing in on him…send one of them and it's little more than a regular challenge, send both," that oh so slight smirk on his face that just oozed of evil and malice, "And he knows there's no escape."
Ohhh yes there was, Methos knew, but he didn't say anything, MacLeod was going to come here, and then somebody else was going to die, and then things were really going to get ugly. Methos offered to stay with Cassandra and make sure the little prisoner behaved herself until the others returned. That was what he told Kronos, but the real reason was he didn't want to be within earshot when Silas came back with the news that Caspian was dead. First Caspian died, and then Kronos and Silas would die at the same time, and then…it was supposed to be over after that, but Methos knew it wouldn't be.
He seated himself up by the cage and when Cassandra came around and knew where she was, she wasn't pleased, to say the least.
"What are you doing here?" she asked.
"I live here," Methos replied, "Well not here," he gestured to the moat they were stuck in, "But here."
"You really haven't changed," she said coldly.
Oh wouldn't you be surprised? Methos thought to himself, but managed to keep himself from actually saying.
"Be quiet," he warned her.
"Or else what?" Cassandra asked as she got onto her knees and grabbed at the bars of the cage, "Are you going to kill me again?"
That was never his intention, but if he had to…
"3000 years have passed and you still can't let it go," Methos told her, "Now who's the one that can't change?"
Cassandra was furious at him and she tried to hit him, but all she succeeded in doing was bashing her fist against the cage and breaking the bones in it. Methos listened to her painful moan as she drew her hand back and he leaned against the cage and told her, "Don't do that again."
"I quit taking orders from you a long time ago, Methos!"
"You already broke one hand, you want the other one to match?" Methos asked her, "I can do that and a lot worse, you should remember that."
"I remember everything," Cassandra told him, "I remember everything you did to me, and my people."
"Your people…they died 3000 years ago, they would've died anyway, Hijad was not Immortal, he would not live forever, nobody in your tribe would've lived forever," Methos told her, "Only you would have been left standing at the end of it all anyway."
"But you still killed him," Cassandra said.
"No, Kronos killed him, after he killed you," Methos reminded her.
"You still helped him to murder my entire tribe," Cassandra told him.
"Yes, and I also killed about 10,000 other tribes in my life, it wasn't personal," Methos said.
Cassandra laughed bitterly, "Killing my entire tribe was nothing personal?"
"Neither was keeping you around," Methos told him, "We would've done the same with any other woman we found with a quickening."
"But you didn't, did you?" Cassandra asked.
"There were a couple of others," Methos answered, "After you…Kronos learned from his mistake with you and they never got away."
"And he killed them?"
"They weren't like you, they never broke, they never submitted," Methos explained, "They died by being stubborn, the same as you're doing now…now you've gone through a lot of trouble to stay alive long enough to see us dead, do you want to die now?"
"What do you care?" Cassandra asked.
Believe it or not, I do, Methos thought to himself, and added as an afterthought, you stupid bitch. What had been planned for so many years had never involved killing Cassandra, she was just a pawn in the game.
Methos sat there and waited. One hour passed, then two, then three, four, five, six…what the hell was going on? They weren't supposed to be gone this long. He kept waiting for Silas to come down there but he never showed up. MacLeod couldn't possibly have killed them both. Could he?
Cassandra had fallen asleep in the middle of the cage so she paid no attention to anything Methos did. Just when Methos was about to close his eyes as well, he heard something. He couldn't feel anybody's quickening up above but he could hear voices. Finally, somebody came back. He strained to hear every word that was said.
"MacLeod killed him?"
"They were on the bridge." It was Silas. "MacLeod grabbed Caspian and shoved him over the edge but Caspian took the bastard down with him. They fell in the river and before I could get down there, there was a quickening."
"Are you sure it was MacLeod that got away?" Kronos asked.
"I couldn't see anybody, but I felt the quickening get weaker and finally it was gone, if Caspian had been the one to survive, when he pulled himself out, he would've come back."
Methos couldn't understand what Kronos said next but he knew his brother was putting to use a few ancient choice words. It wasn't a foreseeable event, MacLeod, a mere 400 years old, defeating one of the oldest and craziest Immortals in the world? It didn't seem possible.
Cassandra woke up when they heard Silas and Methos coming their way. They came over to the cage and Kronos told Silas, "If MacLeod even gets close, kill her."
"He's alive?" Cassandra asked, unable to believe it.
"Not for long!" Kronos replied assuredly.
Cassandra looked at Methos as if she was trying to laugh, "You failed."
We'll see about that, Methos thought as he absentmindedly followed Kronos out of the moat.
Come on, MacLeod, damn you, Methos thought to himself, where the hell are you?
As if on cue, both brothers felt the quickening of another Immortal, and at the top for the stairs they saw MacLeod entering.
Never thought I'd be so glad to see this bastard, Methos thought to himself.
"Think of Cassandra," Kronos told the approaching Immortal, "Lay down your sword and she lives, fight and win," he snorted, "Or lose, she dies…come on, MacLeod, your life for hers, what do you say?"
Damn you, MacLeod, Methos thought to himself, Don't you be getting chivalrous on me now. It was zero hour, the plan had to be executed exactly at this point or one of the wrong people would die.
"I think she'd rather be dead," MacLeod answered.
Thank you, Methos said to himself.
Kronos turned slightly to face Methos and told him, "Tell Silas to finish her off, and let her know it was MacLeod's decision."
My feet have wings you miserable excuse of a, Methos thought as he started to run off. But he didn't get to finish that thought.
"Methos, don't do this!" MacLeod said to him.
Methos stopped and turned back and told MacLeod, "Like you said, I go with the winner."
Except who the hell was that going to be this time?
When he got back to the cage, Silas was already unlocking it and dragging Cassandra out. Methos drew his sword and it got in the way of Silas's plan to decapitate Cassandra.
"You're challenging me for the girl's head?" Silas laughed, "Take her, she's yours, brother."
Not for 3000 years, Methos told himself.
"I am not your brother."
The look on Silas's face when Methos said that said all that needed to be said about the betrayal his brother felt. But it couldn't compare with Methos who had actually had to give voice to the words. He felt like somebody had cut his stomach open and was ripping out his insides.
"How can you do this?" Silas asked him, "How can you go against everything you are?"
"You don't know anything about me!" Methos told him.
Had he ever said truer words in his life? He didn't know and he didn't care. The fight was on, and even though Methos knew what had to be done, he felt sorry for Silas, the poor bastard, he was just walking into this but Methos had every detail planned out and scrutinized and memorized, he'd done so for years. All the same, nothing could have prepared him for the moment when he had to deliver that final, fatal blow.
After MacLeod and Cassandra had gone, Methos stayed behind in mourning for a while, then once he was sure they were gone and wouldn't be back, he got out of the base. He found himself at the bridge where MacLeod and Caspian had fought, and acting on a blind impulse, threw himself into the river. The water was freezing cold and he wanted to scream, but at the same time he felt it was what he needed. Heat was effective for sterilizing but the freezing cold was beneficial in killing certain things off as well. He thought if he stayed in long enough, maybe he'd fill that some of the grime and filth would wash off; not the dirt from the submarine base but the way he'd felt since Kronos had come back into the picture.
Finally when he felt his lungs ready to burst, he forced himself to surface, taking in the sweet night air again. Compared to the damp, dank, moldy atmosphere he'd been stuck in for the last few days, this was a breath from heaven where he was concerned. He laid out on the ground and looked up at the night sky. There had always been something comforting to those millions of dim little lights lost in the big dark sky, shining down on the world and offering a little light on whatever subject was at his hand. It didn't work tonight though; he was calm now but he still wanted to die.
After a while, Methos had no idea how much time had passed, he got up and headed back to the hotel room which he had reserved in advance, on the other side of Bordeaux where he couldn't possibly run into MacLeod or Cassandra.
This was it, the game was over, his brothers were dead, now all that was left to do was face the man responsible for all this, and figure out how he was ever going to live with himself after this.
Methos reached the hotel and went up to his room. His mind was in a haze and he didn't know what to do but the first thing he did was change out of his wet clothes into a pair of dry ones. The name he was using for the reservation of this hotel had been living in this room for two months prior to him returning to Seacouver and he made it clear to the staff that it was to remain in his name until he got back there. That way he already had everything there he would need.
He had just finished changing and picked up his wet clothes to drop down the laundry chute when it really hit him what had happened that night, and he dropped the clothes and fell to the floor crying, weeping uncontrollably for his brothers, who despite everything he thought about them, and how much he had wanted them dead, he missed them.
There was a quickening approaching his door. He knew who it had to be. Cassandra didn't know about this place and MacLeod sure as hell wouldn't know where to find him. Methos forced himself up and went over to the door and opened it, facing the man who had put him through all this, the tormentor who had made his life a living hell for so long. In that moment Methos couldn't even think of cursing the other man, for all the trouble he had made of Methos' life, the 5000 year old man just didn't have it in him. He was too upset by the murders, the blackmail, the betrayal, everything. Methos opened his mouth and tried to speak, to say something, anything, but he could not, he just continued crying as he collapsed into the arms of his brother, Caspian.