Chapter seven

Richie staggered more than walked out of the woods onto the driveway. The wound to his arm was still bleeding sluggishly as his body tried to repair itself. Richie wasn't focused on that though, his brain was still trying to assimilate the many new memories and experiences that didn't belong to him. Still it gave him something other than Mac to focus on…

"Richie!"

Speaking of Mac…

Relief flooded through Richie when he saw Mac rushing towards him, closely followed by Joe.

"Are you ok?" Mac had hold of his arms and seemed to be trying to look into his soul his gaze was that intense.

"Doing better than the other guy," Richie answered with a smile.

"Glad to hear it," Mac said with evident relief in his voice. Then his eyes fixed on the blood on Richie's arm. "You're hurt," he accused.

Richie glanced at his arm. The sleeve of his shirt was soaked with blood. It made it look worse than it was.

"Hey, I'll live." Richie shrugged. Then added hastily when he saw Mac's expression darken. "It's not as bad as it looks. Almost healed. You ok?"

Mac looked taken aback by the question. "Me? I'm fine."

"So how come this guy made it to me if he challenged you?"

"Ah," Mac said in understanding. "There was two of them. Teacher and student. I think you were supposed to be the students first Quickening." Mac explained.

"Nice. Guess he thought I was an easy target." Richie felt himself sway slightly and tried to right himself. He felt Mac's grip on him tighten.

"Let's get inside," he said leading Richie towards the house. Richie allowed himself to be carried by Mac's momentum. He was too tired to even contemplate arguing anyway. Mac stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked at Richie as if he was assessing him.

"What?" Richie asked.

"Just wondering if you're up to a shower." Mac said, still looking with such an intensity Richie started to feel uncomfortable.

"Sure," he answered wearily. Truthfully he felt bone tired and part of him just wanted to fall into bed and sleep for a week, or at least until the new voices in his head quietened down. He hadn't realised taking a Quickening would be like this. He still felt like himself but at the same time he couldn't deny that he knew things now he hadn't an hour ago, and he didn't quite know how to catalogue them in his mind.

He made for the bottom step before Mac gently caught his arm.

"Maybe we'll just get you cleaned up for now. You can have a shower in the morning."

Richie met his eyes and saw understanding there. If Richie had any plans to try and convince Mac he felt better than he did they fled at that point.

"Thanks Mac." He said simply and allowed himself to be led into the kitchen where Mac pressed himself into one of the chairs.

Joe it seemed had been busying himself in the kitchen and presented Richie with a cup of steaming tea.

"Thanks Joe," Richie said, wrapping his fingers around the cup.

"No problem Kid," Joe said with a smile. "You scared the hell out of me you know?"

"I did?" Richie asked.

"Yeah, running off to face an unknown Immortal like that…"

Richie shrugged. "It's what we do…"

"I know. I guess I never cared about people I was watching before though."

Richie looked at Joe, surprised. Sure Richie was starting to like the guy, even if he did dislike his line of work, but that didn't mean he expect Joe to care about him. He assumed Joe just tried so hard because he liked Mac.

"And you don't have to take every fight that presents itself Richie," Mac said from the sink where he was running warm water into a bowl.

That made Richie's eyebrows shoot up. "Oh right Mac. I shoulda just locked the doors I suppose and hoped he'd go away? Be serious Mac. Besides, for all I knew he'd killed you. You think I'm gonna just let that go?"

"Losing your head for me will achieve nothing," Mac said calmly, bringing the bowl over. "Take the shirt off," he instructed.

Doing as he was told Richie peeled the shirt off, glaring at Mac while he did it. "What's the point of all this training if you don't think I can actually beat anyone?" Richie demanded.

"I know you're good Richie," Mac said starting to clean the blood off Richie's arm. "I have no concerns about your ability as a swordsman, well, no more than you obviously have about me," he said with a smile, referring to Richie's fear that Mac might have lost his challenge. "But that doesn't mean I don't worry about you. Especially if you thought I might be dead, we both know you can be easily distracted."

"Not when it matters," Richie said darkly. He was feeling somewhat placated but not entirely.

"No?" Mac asked nodding at Richie's arm – the cut was almost completely healed now, but there was still blood everywhere, indicating how serious a wound it had been. "A mortal man would probably have died from that without medical attention."

"Yeah, well I'm not mortal. If I was the problem wouldn't have arose would it?" Richie said irritably. "He underestimated me and now he's a whole head shorter for it."

"How did he get through your defences?"

"Is this a debrief or something? Couldn't it wait until morning?"

"I'm just curious." Mac said. "Defensively you are excellent. I struggle to get through and I know your style. You usually only make mistakes when you get tired. Or distracted."

"Well you didn't teach me how to defend against a sword out of control cos the one wielding it is falling over." Richie said taking the towel from Mac and drying his arm.

"He fell over?" Mac repeated.

"Uh huh. Mis-stepped. He shouldn't have let me pick where the fight happened."

"He let you pick?" Joe asked a quizzical look on his face.

"Well sorta." Richie shrugged. "I let him push me back until we were on shady ground for him and then I went on the offensive. By then he couldn't really see me and was so overconfident he wasn't expecting me to put up much of a fight."

"I'm impressed Richie." Mac said.

"Good," Richie felt like he might asleep any minute right here at the kitchen table. Between the Quickening, the blood loss and the mountain he was beat. "Does that mean I can go to bed now…"

!

Richie wasn't sure how long he'd been asleep for but it didn't feel anywhere near long enough. Ripley was purring away on the pillow next to his head – he thought she was what had probably woken him up, she was purring that loudly. Prying an eye open Richie saw it was still dark outside. Definitely hadn't been asleep long enough. He glanced at the clock at his bedside and saw it was only 11.30. He'd been asleep maybe an hour. Richie groaned. Now he was awake he had to go to the bathroom. But he really didn't want to get up.

"This is your fault," he grumbled to the cat, who didn't even bother opening her eyes to regard him as he stumbled down the hall to the bathroom. He didn't bother turning on the lights, his eyes were barely open so they wouldn't help anyway.

On the way back to his room Richie paused at the top of the stairs, noticing that the glow of lights were showing under the living room door. Richie assumed Mac was still up and took another step to his room when he heard Joe's voice. Strange that he was still here. Richie took another step towards his door but halted once more when he heard his name.

He knew he shouldn't eavesdrop – no good ever came of it, but still, he found himself curious as to what they were saying about him.

"So, will you send Richie away now?" Joe was asking.

Richie found himself disliking the man again. How could he ask that? Richie hadn't done anything wrong, why would Mac kick him out? It was a stupid question…

"I should," Richie stopped breathing when he heard the reply from Mac. How could he say that?

"He has taken his first head now." Joe said so softly Richie almost missed it.

"I know. I thought I'd have more time. I thought I could keep them away from us longer out here."

"You've taught him well you know? I looked up this Abrams guy. He was no newbie. And Richie beat him as if he was nothing. That's because of you."

If his heart hadn't been beating so fast and if he didn't feel so sick Richie might have appreciated the compliment.

"I won't lose him because he's unprepared. I owe him more than that. I owe Tessa more than that."

Richie didn't know what to think now. Here Mac was talking about sending him away for no good reason that Richie could figure, but he sounded upset at the idea of anything bad happening to Richie. A small voice mused that this was why you shouldn't listen to other people's conversations. It was bound to lead to confusion.

"Tessa would be proud of him. Of how well he's adapted to all this." Joe said with certainty.

"But she would never have let me send him away now." Mac said. "She would never agree to it. She would be angry with me for even contemplating following such a ridiculous tradition."

"I think it started so the student wouldn't have too much of an attachment to their teacher. Once they were good enough, had learnt enough to survive they were out on their own. The reasons it started seem fair enough to me." Joe said.

"Why do I feel you have more you want to say?" Mac asked.

"Because I usually do." Joe laughed. "It's more of the same from last time we talked about you and Richie. Traditions have their place Mac, but you and the kid up there, you aren't traditional. You are anything but. So do I think you should say screw tradition again, course I do. I doubt he'd understand that you were sending him off into the big bad world so he could forge his own path anyway. He is only nineteen still. Maybe if he was a little older… well he'd probably be chomping at the bit to get out there and find his way. Right now, I think he's better off here with you. For now at least."

Richie heard Mac sigh. "I'm glad you think that Joe, and I hope you're right, because I don't think I'm ready for him to leave me yet."

Mac was supposed to send him away now because he'd proven that he could look after himself… But Mac didn't want to send him away. And Joe was agreeing. Suddenly Richie felt incredibly tired again. He'd always known his new life would be complicated, but he hadn't realised just how complicated.

Richie had had enough of listening now, he returned to his room and climbed wearily into bed. He shooed Ripley off his pillow, who simply curled up against Richie's chest and went to sleep again in seconds. Absently Richie stroked her head as he lay in the dark, feeling more tired than he could remember feeling in a long time, yet he couldn't sleep now.

The initial hurt he'd felt when he heard Mac talking about sending him away was gone and was replaced with confusion. He knew Mac loved him, they might not be the most vocal about their feelings, but Richie knew it and Mac knew it. He just hadn't realised that Mac was changing all the rules when it came to him. And Joe was encouraging him to do it too.

It was a weird feeling to Richie – one of belonging, of being put first. Richie couldn't remember ever feeling that way before. He wished, not for the first time, that he had met Mac sooner. It would have been nice to have some good memories from his childhood. And maybe a bit longer with Tessa…

Then there was the fact that he'd killed some one tonight. He knew he had to, and he couldn't honestly say he regretted it, but still. It wasn't something he imagined he would ever truly get used to. And part of him was glad about that.

Richie lay there for a long time, not quite able to turn his brain off despite how tired he felt. He jumped a little when he heard his door open, relaxing when he saw Mac's silhouette.

"Sorry, I thought you'd be asleep." Mac said, concern tinging his voice.

"I was," Richie said rolling onto his back. "I woke up."

Mac took this as an invitation to come into the room. He perched on the edge of the bed and looked at Richie.

"First ones the hardest," he said softly. "Trying to assimilate the life of another person isn't easy. But after a while you learn to take all the good things and ignore everything else."

"It was pretty intense at first," Richie admitted. "But it's quietening down now."

"Sure?"

Richie nodded. "It's just," he paused, unsure of how to say what he was thinking.

"Just say it," Mac advised when Richie said that out loud.

"It's just you always make it look so easy, you know, when you get challenged. It doesn't seem to bother you, taking their heads. I mean I know you don't go looking for fights or anything, but, you never come home, like, conflicted." It sounded worse out loud than it had in his head.

But Mac smiled so hopefully he hadn't taken it too badly…

"I don't like it, but I was raised in a culture where arguments were resolved with fighting. I don't know how many people I killed before I became Immortal in protecting the Clan, but I know I was responsible for people's deaths. And since then I have killed mortals in wars that I have decided to be part of and I kill Immortals that challenge me or who do evil things. I never like the killing but sometimes I feel it is justified. You have to find peace with it too Richie, find a way to justify it in your own mind your actions."

"So you think maybe you find it easier because you were raised in a way that justifies killing in certain circumstances, but I wasn't?" Richie asked.

"Yeah, something like that," Mac said with a smile. He squeezed Richie's shoulder. "Get some sleep Rich, you have to be up early for work."

"Slave driver," Richie said rolling back onto his side with a yawn, having to scoot Ripley over to make room.

"Night Rich," Mac floated from the door.

"Night Mac," Richie mumbled, falling asleep seconds later.