"Are you sure you want me to go?" Kronos asked.

The days had turned to one week, and then another, and Kronos had packed up and was ready to go back home if he could be convinced that Methos would be allright. That seemed to be the biggest question on his mind, in the two weeks he had stayed with his brother, Methos hardly ate anything and he drank excessively, even by their standards.

"I'll be fine," Methos told him for the umpteenth time, "You've got your own life waiting for you back home."

"Some life, I have no family and nobody comes to see me, it's not like my agenda's filled. I could stay longer if you wanted me to."

"I appreciate it," Methos said, "But I'll be fine. You go on now."

Kronos picked up his bag and before walking out the door, he pulled Methos into a final embrace and kissed him.

"If you need me, you know where to find me," Kronos told him.

Methos saw Kronos off, and once his brother was gone, reality set in again and Methos knew what he had to do now. He didn't like keeping anymore secrets from Kronos than he had to, but if he was going to be convincing today then he was going to have to look like hell, and that was where two weeks of practically starving himself and binge drinking had come into play.


Methos knocked on the door a few times and stood back. He looked around while he waited; the atmosphere was gloomy, the sky was dark, the air was damp, a storm was underway, and it fit in perfectly with how Methos was feeling at that time. He heard the door open and he turned back around.

"Don."

Don Salzer stood in the open doorway and saw his friend looking rather out of it today.

"Oh Adam, what brings you here?" He took in the uneasy appearance of the seemingly younger man and noticed Adam was shaking, and he knew this wasn't a social visit, "What's wrong?"

"Can I come in?" Methos asked.

"Of course," Don held the door for him and Methos slowly entered his home.

"What's the matter?" Don asked as they headed to the living room, "You've been missing a few days, haven't you?"

"Yes," Methos nodded, "That's what I came to talk to you about. Something terrible has happened."

"What?" Don asked as they sat down.

"Something's happened with some of the Watchers, they've gone completely…I don't even know what's wrong with them…but they jumped me last week, accused me of being Immortal."

"Merciful heavens," Don said, "What did they do to you?"

"They tried to kill me," Methos replied with a teary eyed expression.

Methos had never been much of an actor in his time but he considered this to be the best performance anyone could bring to life. His emotions were not so much drawn up out of thin air but the exceedingly fast rate at which he could work himself up into an emotional wreck, took more concentration than any fight he had ever taken part in. The tears poured from his eyes like rain down a gutter, he got so close to hyperventilating he thought he was going to pass out, and he reached out in desperation and fear and clung to his friend as if his life were in the balance of it.

Don put his arm around Methos' back and tried to get him to calm down and explain what had happened.

"They tried to kill me," Methos cried, "Why…why would they do that? What did I do to them that they'd want to kill me?"

"Do you know who they were?" Don asked.

"It was…Meltzer, and Getty, and Burke that I know of for certain, but…I think there were more."

Don said nothing but Methos knew his friend was furious. The Watchers were supposed to be able to depend on each other, not turn their own organization into a manhunt. He held Adam close to him and lightly, cautiously, kissed him on the cheek.

"I'm so sorry, Adam, I can't imagine what came over them…what happened to them?"

"I don't know," Methos cried, "I just remember getting away from them and I ran…I've been laying low the last few days so they couldn't find me…I've never been so afraid in my life."

At that time Methos actually started hyperventilating. Don got him a drink to help calm him down, after that Methos was able to breathe again.

"I don't understand what's going on," Don told him, "I'll speak to Joe Dawson later and see if he knows anything about it. Perhaps this work has finally made them crack."

"I just don't get it," Methos said, "Don, have you ever met an Immortal?"

"No," Don shook his head.

"Have you ever spoken with one?"

"A few times."

"But you never knew any personally?"

"No," he shook his head again, "But, I'll tell you something, Adam…I've been in this long enough to know that they're not so much different than us that we can't get along with them. If I did meet one…I don't think anything based on their Immortality alone would prevent me from getting along with them, nor they with me. I really don't know that I understand why they must not know we exist. They're a slightly different breed of people than we are but they are people none the less."

Methos nodded.

"Of course, you know me," Don said, "I don't care too much for people, but I like them well enough, I should think…people every day come into contact with Immortals and they have absolutely no idea of it, and you'll note they're not all popping up with their throats slit. That should tell people something…you often depend on a stranger for help, how does it matter if they'll die in 100 years or not?"


Don only lived two years after that. Kalas attacked him and left him for dead in the bookstore where he worked. He killed Don to get to Methos who at that time was becoming acquainted with Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod. Fate sure was funny the way it jumbled so many things together to happen so closely to each other.

Now, here it was two years after that, and Methos found himself in Joe's bar for what had to have been the third time that week, and he found himself yet again reminiscing about his friend, Don Salzer. Salzer had been a good man, one of the few Watchers Methos knew he could trust. Most Watchers either seemed to despise the Immortals, or they were scared of them, Salzer never appeared bothered by any of it. He never had anything nice to say about them because he never met them, but he never had a solitary cross word to say regarding Immortals either. To him, they were more or less like everybody else and had a right to be treated the same way.

Methos would've laughed if it didn't hurt him so much to remember his friend. He seemed to recall a time long ago when he was a tenant in a boarding house. Word had come up that a tornado was heading their way, and half of the people were in a panic to go down to the basement, the other half were running around the house getting together everything they'd need for when the house was destroyed by the twister. In the midst of it all there was an old man who just sat in his chair and continued reading all night as if nothing were happening, and at the end of the storm, nothing did happen. Salzer reminded Methos of that old man; he never worried what the Immortals might do to him if they found out, he was never afraid of them because of what they were or what they did, and up until Kalas came around, he seemed to be right about it all.

Don had been right though, it was no different from ordinary people. All the time, everyday there were thousands of accounts of people being killed for no reason at all, by people they never knew, so how was it any different? Of course, try explaining that to the Watchers, he had to laugh. The trial of Joe Dawson had ended a long time ago but everybody still felt they were walking on eggshells about it all, trust Immortals, trust Watchers, who knew what the correct answer was?

"Adam!"

Methos about jumped off the barstool when he came back to reality and heard that. He turned around and saw Richie standing next to him.

"Sorry, kid, I had something on my mind."

"A lot's been on your mind lately," Richie said as he sat down next to him, "Are you allright?"

"I'm fine," Methos tiredly replied, "Why?"

"Nobody's seen you lately."

"Well, I'm here every night," Methos answered.

"But where are you the rest of the day?" Richie asked.

Most of it had been in bed tossing and turning the last few days. Methos felt certain his had to have rings under his eyes or something, he certainly felt like it. He couldn't recall the last time he had a good night's sleep, every night he either had nightmares or he couldn't get to sleep.

Methos felt the quickening of another Immortal and soon heard MacLeod calling Richie. Great, that was just what he didn't need, everybody talking to him, getting on his case, trying to figure out what was wrong with him.

"Richie," Duncan said as he came up to them, "What's going on?"

"Nothing, Mac," he replied, "I was just getting ready to leave."

"Oh…allright, well I'll see you around then."

"Yeah, see ya," Richie said as he left.

"So what was that about?" Duncan asked Methos as he sat down beside him.

"Oh nothing, nothing..." Methos tried to think of a way to change the subject quickly, "What about you? What's new with you, MacLeod?"

"Nothing."

"Oh that's too bad…Joe!" Methos exercised his lungs, "How about another beer?"

"Haven't you had enough already?" Joe asked as he came up to them.

"Nope, just keep them coming," Methos replied as he looked into his empty glass.

Joe grabbed Methos by his hair and forced him to meet his eyes.

"Are you going to be driving tonight?"

"That depends on if I can even see when I leave," Methos told him.

Joe let go of his hair and went to get another bottle.

"Adam are you allright?" Duncan asked.

"I'm fine, I'm just tired is all," Methos said, "Isn't a man entitled to a little insomnia and restlessness every once in a while?"

Duncan leaned in close to Methos and said in his ear, "Not when there are people coming for his head."

Methos pulled away from him and said, "Tell me you never spent a night losing sleep."

"I'm not the one who went 200 years without taking a head," Duncan said.

Methos folded his arms on the bar counter and laid his head down and closed his eyes.

"Not funny."

Methos raised his head and called out, "Where's my beer?"

"Coming right up," Joe said as he slammed the bottle down next to him. Methos poured half the bottle into his glass, took a swig of it and then told Joe to put some vodka in with it.

"Adam, what's wrong with you?" Duncan asked.

"Nothing's wrong with me," Methos replied, "I just realized that I can't remember the last time I got blind, stinking drunk, and I think I'd like to try it again."

Joe put a bottle of vodka on the table and told MacLeod not to give Methos more than a shot's worth.

"You don't trust me not to drink the whole thing?" Methos asked.

"Right now, no I don't," Joe said.

"You don't trust me? What do I look like, an untrained dog?" He sniffed Joe's hand and said rather amusedly, "You've been with a woman."

Joe was wanted on stage but before he left he told MacLeod to keep an eye on Methos, something weird was going on with him. MacLeod moved both bottles away from Methos, "Okay, Adam, I think it's time we got you home…if we're lucky we may beat the hangover by a good couple of hours."

"I'm not going anywhere with you," Methos told him.

"Adam, come on…"

Duncan grabbed Methos' arm but Methos kicked at him to let him go.

"I'm not leaving," Methos said.

Duncan leaned in close to Methos and said, "I'm going to get you out of here if I have to do it with you slung over my shoulder and kicking for five miles."

Methos through the corner of his eye saw some of the other bar hoppers watching them, and he knew they had heard him talking. Subtleness was not MacLeod's strong suit. He looked up at MacLeod and said so they could all hear, "If you keep talking to me like that, dear, you're not going to get me into bed with you tonight. Now leave me alone, let me finish my drink."

Methos poured a shot of vodka into the beer and was about to drink it when both he and MacLeod sensed another Immortal nearby. Methos looked to Duncan to see if he'd had any part in it but clearly MacLeod was as clueless about who it was as Methos was. He turned to the door and almost screamed when he saw who it was.

"Oh my God," was all he was able to say.

Duncan looked to the door as well and saw a man of regular build with short spiky hair and a long scar going down his face, step into the bar. Duncan could have sworn he had met the man somewhere before but he couldn't think of where.

Methos all but jumped out of his seat and went to see if this was real and not just a dream.

Kronos had no sooner walked in the door when he felt the quickening of another Immortal. He stood just two feet away from the door and he saw his brother walk up to him. When Methos got close enough to see that Kronos was real, he stopped, almost as if he were afraid. Kronos smiled as he greeted his brother with outstretched arms and said, "Don't just stand there, little brother, come here and give me a hug."

Methos ran into Kronos' arms and the two felt at home being reunited with one another after four years. Methos commented as Kronos picked him up off the ground, "It's so good to see you again, Brother."

Kronos put Methos down and said, "It's good to see you too, Brother. How've you been?"

"I'm fine," Methos replied, "Better now that you're here, though…come on, I'll pour you a drink."

They went over to the bar and Kronos sat down and when Methos reached over for the bottles, Kronos grabbed the back of Methos' large shirt.

"Oh oh," he said, "You haven't been eating lately, have you?"

Methos reached behind with one hand and slapped Kronos' away. "Cut it out," he said.

"Brother dear," Kronos crooned, "You know I don't like it when you lose weight, Lord knows your scrawny enough as it is already. Keep it up and I'm going to hogtie you onto my lap and feed you like the baby you're acting like."

"Kronos, knock it off," Methos warned him.

Kronos laughed, "I'm only kidding, come here."

Kronos grabbed Methos from behind by his hips and jerked Methos backwards, landing on Kronos' lap and once Kronos had him there, he snaked his arms around Methos' waist so he couldn't get away and started kissing him on the side of his face. Methos laughed and tried to get up but it was to no avail.

"Let go of me," he said.

"Why?" Kronos asked, "The fun's just beginning."

Methos laughed as he started trying to get out of Kronos' grip again.

"Come on, Kronos, stop it, everybody's going to be looking at us."

"This is a bar, it'll be a wonder if they're not all seeing pink elephants," Kronos replied.

"Kronos, please!" Methos laughed as he tried to get away, "Come on, let me up."

"Why?"

Kronos leaned into Methos and kissed him again and again and again.

"Kronos, please, this is your first night in town, we don't need to be making a scene so early," Methos said. Then a thought occurred to him and he turned around to face his brother, "What are you doing in town anyway?"

"Well you know," Kronos said, "I hadn't seen you for a few years and I thought it was about time. I'm sorry I didn't come out sooner…I got your letters about the trial but at the time I had my own hands full with something."

"That's allright," Methos replied, "How long are you going to be in town?"

"As long as I'm wanted," Kronos answered, "Am I?"

Methos nodded, "Yes, very much."

"Good."

Kronos finally let go of Methos and he got up to pour the drinks.

"So what's new that I don't already know about?" Kronos asked.

"Not much," Methos responded as he poured Kronos a boilermaker, "Not much at all."

He handed Kronos the glass, and he downed the liquor in one swig.

"Well I…" he looked at the glass and then back at Methos, "Don't they have anything stronger than this around here?"

Methos took the glass away from his brother and put it back on the counter.

"So when did you get into town?" Methos asked as he fixed another drink.

"Oh about an hour ago…you know you're really getting sloppy, in this town one of the easiest things to find out is where Adam Pierson goes in his off hours," Kronos told him.

Methos smiled sheepishly as he hung his head low and blushed. "Well we're none of us perfect."

Kronos took the drink and downed it in five seconds and put the empty glass back on the counter. Methos finished his own drink and started pouring the glasses full of vodka.

"So apparently," Kronos said in a lower tone, "You've been doing well to keep your true identity a secret."

"I try," Methos replied.

Kronos pulled Methos back onto his lap and started kissing him again while Methos laughed like the drunk he was.

"Don't start again," Methos said.

"Why not? I haven't seen you in four years, I think I'm entitled to it," Kronos replied.

Methos squirmed in Kronos' hold and said, "Can't you wait until we get home later?"

"Why should I?" Kronos asked, "We're already here."

"Kronos," Methos tried to get up, "Somebody's going to get the wrong idea about us."

"Then that's their problem, not ours. Now come on, Methos, I've been away for four years and you don't have something to give your brother?"

Methos turned his head and kissed Kronos on the cheek. Kronos seemed displeased by it.

"You call that a kiss?" he asked, "What mackerels have you been puckering up with?"

Methos turned around the best he could in the hold Kronos had him in, he put his hands on Kronos' shoulders as he leaned in and kissed him. Immediately following the kiss, Methos grew extremely tired and dropped his head on Kronos' shoulder and closed his eyes.

"Come on," Kronos said, "Let's get out of here."

"And go where?" Methos asked as he sat up.

Kronos got a good look at Methos' bloodshot eyes which he struggled to keep open.

"If this keeps up, to bed," Kronos said.

"But I'm not tired," Methos told him.

Kronos smiled and said, "Who said anything about sleep?"

Methos looked at him and laughed.

"How much have you had to drink tonight?" Kronos asked.

"Too damn much," Methos laughed as he recalled the six beers and half a bottle of vodka.

"Yeah, I imagine it'll be nicer when it all kicks in, to hit your head against the bedding instead of the floor," Kronos told him.

Methos laughed because despite what he had said, he was tired, too tired to even say anything.

Kronos stroked the back of Methos' head and said, "Come on, let's get you home."

Methos laughed as they stood up. "You'll really think this place is ugly."

Kronos took Methos by the arm and the two left the bar. All this had occurred less than two feet way from where Duncan stood, and never during any of it had either Immortal so much as glanced his way.

Joe came up behind Duncan and asked him, "What's going on?"

Duncan turned around to face him and replied, "I don't know!"

"What happened?" Joe asked.

"Did you see the man that came in here?"

Joe shook his head, "I didn't see anybody. What happened?"

"It was another Immortal, he knew Methos," Duncan said.

"A challenge?"

Duncan shook his head, "No, I don't think it was that at all…they seemed to know each other so well."

"And he didn't introduce you?" Joe asked.

"No, he acted as if I wasn't even here," Duncan replied.

"Did you hear what his name was by any chance?" Joe asked.

Duncan tried to think.

"I think…I think Methos said his name was Kronos."

"Kronos?" Joe repeated, the look on his face told Duncan that he had no idea who that was, "Sounds like something out of the Dark Ages."

"Well, this is the world's oldest man we're talking about," Duncan replied, "It may very well be."

Joe could tell that Duncan was concerned, so much lately seemed to be wrong with Methos and now a strange Immortal comes up out of nowhere.

"I'll see if I can find anything," Joe said.

"Thanks, Joe."


Methos felt like he was in Heaven, or as close to it as he would ever come. He was half asleep and he felt his head swimming, but he could also feel the gentle hand that stroked through his hair and the cool night air that relinquished the sickening feel of hot skin and a churning stomach that had earlier left him feeling like death.

Almost reluctantly, Methos opened his eyes and saw he was laying on Kronos' lap on a bench somewhere.

"Feeling better?" Kronos asked.

Methos sat up and realized the bench they were sitting on was one of the fancier tombs in a graveyard.

"What happened?" Methos asked.

"You know you can't hold vodka," Kronos told him, "You drank half a bottle of it and what did you expect to happen? You threw up…and then you passed out."

"Oh no," Methos laughed as he buried his face in Kronos' shoulder, "How big of a mess did things get?"

"Don't worry, it's allright," Kronos told him, "Though it would seem that I came out here at just the right time if this is the kind of condition you wander off in."

It was then that Methos realized his arms were covered in gooseflesh and he was freezing.

"Where's my coat?" he asked.

"Right here," Kronos held it up, "I didn't think it'd do you much favors when heat is one of the worst things for a nauseated person. Are you feeling better now?"

A breeze came up and Methos started shivering.

"I think so but," he grabbed his coat, "I think I'll be needing this now."

"Are you ready to go home?" Kronos asked.

"I don't know," Methos replied, "I…I don't think so."

"Well what are you in the mood for?"

"I…" Methos started laughing.

"What is it?" Kronos asked.

"Well now I'm hungry," Methos said.

Kronos about fell off the bench from laughing so hard.

"Well then," he said as they got up, "Where's the place around here that serves the best food?"

"Oh, uh…" Methos was trying to remember but his mind was coming up blank.

"Oh well it doesn't matter," Kronos said, "I spotted a place coming into town, we'll get something to eat and then we'll get a few drinks and we'll catch up on the last few years, but no more vodka for you."

Methos laughed as they left the cemetery. He grabbed Kronos' arm and walked next to him, suddenly feeling like a dark cloud in his life had just disappeared

"I love you, Kronos," he said.

Kronos smiled and replied, "Save that for when the rest of the booze is out of your system, wait until the hangover passes and then tell me you love me."

Methos smiled and rested his head on Kronos' shoulder as they walked along in the night.


"Nothing?" Duncan asked the next morning.

Joe shook his head, "Sorry Mac, I couldn't find anything on anybody under the name Kronos, are you sure you heard it right?"

"I think so…thing of it is I would swear I'd seen him from somewhere before, but I just can't place it."

"Well obviously he doesn't remember you," Joe said, "Otherwise he would've said something, wouldn't he?"

"Maybe…or maybe he just didn't notice me…the same way Methos completely forgot I was there once Kronos came in."

Joe started to laugh but he tried to cover it.

"What is it?" Duncan asked.

"I didn't know you had green eyes," Joe said.

"What?" Duncan started to walk over to the mirror when it hit him what Joe was saying. "Ha-ha, very funny, Joe."

"I thought it was," Joe replied.

"I'm not jealous," Duncan said, "I'm concerned. Last night Kronos said he was taking Methos home, I figured that meant Methos' apartment, I called him two hours last night, he never answered."

"Maybe he meant his home," Joe thought.

"I hope not, otherwise we may never find him," Duncan said, "Methos had a lot to drink last night...he could barely even stand up when they left…if that other Immortal tried anything with him…"

Joe watched Duncan pace back and forth. It was little after six in the morning and neither had had a restful night. Joe had at least gotten some sleep but Duncan looked like he'd just paced the floors all night long.

"Did you ever to get to sleep last night?" Joe asked.

Duncan shook his head, "I'm going to call again and see if he answers."

"It's six o' clock in the morning and he had six beers and a bottle of vodka last night," Joe told him, "You'll be lucky if he can even find the phone after that."

Duncan ignored Joe's comment and dialed Adam Pierson's number for the hundredth time. It rang once, twice, three times…

"Hello?" a tired voice said.

"Adam?"

"Oh, it's you…for a minute I thought it was somebody."

"Adam, are you allright?" Duncan asked.

"Uh…yeah, I'm fine, are you?"

"Did you get home okay last night?"

"Uh…yeah, yeah I got home just fine. Why? Did something happen last night?"

You tell me, Duncan wanted to say but he didn't dare, he fought with himself to keep from asking 'Who was that Immortal you were with last night? Where did you go with him?'

"No, we just wanted to make sure that you were allright after what you had to drink."

He heard Methos laugh a tired, pathetic laugh. "I've been drinking like this since I was younger than you, just we didn't have drinking limits set so low back then…good day."

"Adam," Duncan said, "Are you going to be coming by the bar today?"

"Uh…yeah, sure, did something come up that I don't know about?"

"Not as far as we know," Duncan replied.

"Allright then, I'll be in this afternoon."

"Okay, goodbye, Adam."

"Well?" Joe asked when Duncan hung up.

"He says that he got home just fine, nothing happened," Duncan said, "He didn't even mention that other guy."

"Well, Methos is over 5,000 years old, I think he knows what he's doing," Joe said, "Now, I'm going to go home and go back to sleep, good day, MacLeod."

"Bye, Joe, I'm sorry," Duncan said.

"Ah," Joe waved him off, "Forget about it, it's what you do, you concern yourself with the well being of others, I should be used to it by now. At least now we know Methos is allright."


Methos hung up the phone and lay back against the pillows and closed his eyes.

"Who was it?"

Methos turned on his side and looked at the figure laying on the other side of the bed.

"Nobody," Methos replied, "Nothing you need to worry about."

"You're not lying to me, are you?" Kronos asked.

"Would I?" Methos asked.

"Yes," Kronos answered.

"Well I'm not."

"Oh?"

The weight shifted in the bed and Kronos pinned himself on top of Methos. Even in the dark room Methos could see that sinister smirk on his brother's face.

"Jealousy doesn't look well on you, Kronos," Methos told him.

"If it's nothing like you say it is, what have I to be jealous about?" Kronos asked.

Methos tiredly laughed, "You have always been jealous, Kronos."

"So I am, so what?" he replied, "As long as I'm alive, nobody's going to take you away from me again."