Disclaimer: Connor MacLeod and all 'Highlander' characters are copyright Davis/Panzer Productions, and Balthazar Blake and all 'Sorcerer's Apprentice' characters are copyright Disney. This fanfic is based off a lengthy Role-Play, heavily edited for added narrative. No profit made, but a hell of a lot of fun. Being an RP, this is effectively co-written by my girlfriend, who played Balthazar.

Up until now I've pretty much kept the story from Balthazar's perspective, so I apologize for the stylistic break, but things that happen when he's out of the room are pretty important, too…

Sword and Sorcery

28. Past in the Present

Some time in the middle of the night, Connor had returned downstairs to collect his gifts, but he seemed content to quietly snore his way through half the morning. By the time he made his way to the kitchen, Veronica was there mixing a hangover remedy for Balthazar, who was still in bed. "You two hit it pretty hard last night." She smiled gently, but there was a hint of concern in her eyes.

Connor shrugged, going for coffee, but he didn't look hung over. He never did, although he certainly drank often enough to deserve it. Sitting at the table with his cup, he watched her hands as she worked. "Sometimes that's all you can do. Is he all right?" Obviously the scotch hadn't completely obliterated his memory of the conversation the night before, and he was quiet and serious in the wake of it.

"I don't know. He had me cancel the lesson with David today, but he says it's just the hangover."

He looked uneasy, then. "I… offered to leave, and he didn't like it, but I don't want to wear out my welcome. I've never been easy to live with, I know that, and now…" He rubbed the back of his neck, hunched over his coffee. "I told him some things, and it brought up bad memories for him, and then I said- well. I don't say the right things." It was possibly the longest speech she'd ever heard him make in one go.

"He doesn't tell me much, you know," She said carefully. "About what he went through these past centuries. He says he can bear his own burdens, but I worry. If he's at least talking to you…"

Veronica sat down next to him. "Please don't go. I've never seen him this devoted to anyone except me." She looked sheepish briefly, then sobered. "We're all broken, you know. All three of us. We need each other."

Connor looked down at his coffee, possibly to avoid looking at her. "I suggested you might be…"

"Be what? Worried?"

He shook his head. Connor needed a haircut and a shave, and the gesture made him look like a shaggy animal. "…Carrying the weight of the past. Hurt."

She was quiet a long moment, considering her words, then said slowly, "We never meant to hurt Maxim. But we thought he'd understand. He was like an older brother to us both. I never wanted to come between them."

Connor's hands tightened around the cup. On the morning after his birthday, he looked like he was feeling very old. "Guilt… is like a stone, and if you get in deep water it'll drown you." He swallowed and took a breath, eyes closed and expression grim while he struggled with the analogy. "But even stones can be worn down, especially by other stones…" He finished his coffee quickly in a few long gulps and set down the cup. "I'm going out for a walk."

The metaphor was a little bewildering, and Veronica wasn't sure how to take the sudden shift. She stood to stop him, placing a hand on his arm. "Please-" The rest of the words died on her lips, and she sighed, letting go. "Don't be long?"

He patted her hand and smiled weakly. "Just a walk. Really. Why doesn't anyone ever believe me about that? I like to walk."

She managed to smile back. "…Okay. Have fun, then." Veronica turned back to the counter, and the remedy Balthazar was waiting upstairs for.

"Tell Balthazar… I hope he feels better." Connor added lamely, and collected his coat and sword, and his new gloves. If she was worried about him running out, his other gifts and his car were still there, but he was gone for almost three hours.

When he returned there was lunch laid out for him, but both sorcerers were upstairs. Unsettled, he only picked at the food they'd left him before tidying up, then practiced sword katas in the guest room. When he heard someone going downstairs he poked his head out briefly, only to glimpse Veronica alone, looking sad and thoughtful. Connor showered, then, and wandered downstairs aimlessly, but didn't ask her what might have happened in his absence. In fact, he seemed to be doing his very best to keep out of her way, silent and thoughtful. Veronica didn't seek him out, but she was distracted rather than upset.

It wasn't until dinnertime that Balthazar came downstairs, but he made a point of looking for Connor right away. The immortal had found the most out-of-the-way corner chair in the house and was curled up in it, legs drawn up like a child. He was reading one of the books Balthazar had given him, but so near the beginning, Balthazar wondered if he was actually reading or simply staring at the page. He made a beeline for the chair nearest by Connor and sat, watching Connor curl up a little more, as if he were expecting a lashing. Balthazar knew he was moving slow and stiff as an old man, which he was, but he smiled gently at Connor and laid a friendly hand on his shoulder. "Sorry. It's okay. I'm all right."

"…Sure." Connor's gaze flickered over the sorcerer briefly, overtop his book, wary and skeptical.

He sniffed and moved away a little. "Just quit skulking around like you think I'm going to beat you."

There was a subtle flinch, and Connor frowned down at the book, eyes swimming with memory for a moment. "I probably deserve it. I'm the one that set you off last night." He uncurled, though, barefoot and limber as a boy. Balthazar envied him. "You should try it sometime. It's not like I can't take it, and it might make you feel better."

He sighed and looked over his shoulder at Connor. "Hurting people doesn't do it for me. You have no idea how to respond to being loved, do you? Is that new, or were you always like this?"

Connor opened and closed his mouth once, frowning, then rubbed one shoulder and curled up again. "I don't even know what you mean." It was a defensive growl, but there wasn't much force behind it, and Balthazar hadn't been really expecting an answer anyway.

"If you never stop pushing us away, we'll still keep trying. But I'm too tired tonight." He watched Connor a moment, then shook his head. "I need to start on dinner."

Connor closed his book, one hand still curled up around his own shoulder. "…Want help?"

"Yeah, okay." Apology was implied, and Balthazar smiled weakly, beckoning him to the kitchen.

Things were awkward for the next few days, but Balthazar was quick to recover physically, and he and Veronica remained warm and friendly toward Connor. The immortal was a little withdrawn and distant, but more than that, he seemed to be trying to be careful. As nice as they were, he behaved as if he were on thin ice. On days there were no sparring lessons with Dave, he went on walks that lasted hours. When Balthazar went out on errands, though, Connor stayed with Veronica. He knew it was his way of being protective, instead of any ulterior motives. Veronica told him when he was gone Connor paced through the house, or practiced sword kata.

One day, toward the end of February, Balthazar went without him to buy magical supplies, and didn't return when he'd said he would. Connor paced all the more, while Veronica ran the radio hoping for soothing background noise. She was worried, too. It didn't help when a news report came on the radio about some sort of nerve gas attack on the subway.

At roughly the same time, the doorbell rang, and Connor lunged for it.

There was no one there, but a heart-shaped box on the front step. Veronica came up behind Connor and peered at the box uncertainly.

The immortal's eyes narrowed and he blocked her from reaching it, peering up and down the block, but there was no one there.

"Connor…" She protested mildly.

"He's late. He'd send… a note. Or a bird." Connor was bristling with paranoia, although that wasn't unusual, for him.

Annoyed, Veronica shoved past under his arm to pick up the box.

He reached out to grip her arm hard. "Please? In case? Let me…" There was a desperate, wild anxiety in his eyes. She'd already heard the story of Rachel's death from a bomb, which might have been triggered by something as innocent as a phone call.

Blinking at him, she handed the box over slowly.

Connor took a step back with it before he opened it, but inside was only a note, Balthazar's ring, and a spatter of blood. The note was addressed to Veronica.

Cursing in Gaelic, Connor opened the note, too, but only long enough to make sure there wasn't some sort of magical booby trap attached. He handed it to Veronica to read first, but he looked ready to kill without even knowing the contents.

Veronica's eyes widened as she saw the ring, but she read the note silently, then handed it back to Connor. It bore an address in Manhattan, followed by the words; 'Bring the boy, won't you my dear? I'd like Balthazar to watch him die. Regards, Maxim Horvath'.

"Is there any good reason I can't go kill him?" Connor snarled.

"Aside from the fact that it's obviously a trap?" She countered.

He rolled his eyes. "I'm not an idiot! Aside from that, yes."

"Balthazar's always been a match for Maxim. If he got the best of him, if he thinks he can take on David and me… he's found help of some sort."

"So have you." He met her eyes, determined.

"Connor… have you ever fought a wizard? One on a level with Balthazar?"

"…Not sure." He gave an aggravated sigh. "But Balthazar says you're better than he is."

She blushed. "…That's… debatable." For a moment she was silent, thinking furiously, then murmured, "All right. I'll call David, then we'll go."

He nodded, and offered her Balthazar's ring.

Veronica held it tightly in both hands for a minute, then slid it into her pocket and went inside to call the Prime Merlinian.