Part 35 Wet Firecracker

Warning: oncoming grossness. Something like this is necessary to give the right feel for the end of this one.

It happened in a split second, so it might have been a sixth sense or it might have just been simple chance that Methos came out of his daze and happened to be looking in the right direction at the right time. The Kurgan had surprised Duncan with his speed and Duncan was coming out of the roll which brought him to the sword. Tired of the chase, the Kurgan had then swung wildly for the neck, abandoning form and leaving himself open. Unfortunately, his sword was closer to Duncan than Duncan's sword was to the Kurgan. And Duncan's position made it impossible to move his head enough to dodge.

Instinct said to twist, to squirm, to do something, anything to avoid oncoming death. It wouldn't have been enough; the blade would have still bitten into his neck, killing him temporarily and ending the battle permanently. Fortunately, Duncan had trained from adolescence to ignore instincts when necessary. Instead, "all or nothing" had been echoing through his mind for the past few minutes, pounded in by the weight of the Kurgan's blows. No half-measures had worked and certainly none would work now.

Rather than trying to roll away, Duncan brought his knees up toward his chest as if doing a somersault. At the same time, he swung his own blade wildly toward the Kurgan's neck. It was an impossible attempt by almost all standards, a week ago Duncan wouldn't have even tried it. Despite his enhanced athleticism, it was awkward. It still shouldn't have worked, the Kurgan should have been able to shift so that Duncan found only a shoulder. The giant, though, was too intent on finishing matters. And despite all this, Duncan's riposte should have been too late, falling short of its target when the Kurgan's sword sliced through his neck.

But Duncan managed to tilt backward far enough so that Kurgan had to chop through his legs to get to his neck. It was an insane move no immortal would have tried until yesterday, as it would have merely postponed death until the next challenge. In the last 24 hours, however, Duncan had seen Methos magically heal his arm and the Kurgan rebound from deep wounds instantly. He hoped to recover and, if not, at least the Kurgan would not win.

There would be excruciating pain, of course, but not as much as the tens of thousands of hours of training his various teachers had put him through in his near half-millenium. The psychological torture associated with being sliced apart was no worse than the torture of having Connor ripped from him yesterday.

So the Kurgan's blade tore through Duncan's legs below the knee, then most of the way through his thighs. The double wound was gruesome, shock was immediate, and the blood loss would very quickly be fatal. But through it all, Duncan's arm held steady and sure. In a shower of his own blood and tissue, he sliced off the head of the most fearsome immortal in history.

The Kurgan's headless body toppled forward, while the shock taking over his own body expressed itself on Duncan's face. He had held himself together this long but the trauma suffered, as well as the utter surprise that he would actually live, could no longer be stayed. He involuntarily curled up, or as much as possible given the terrible injuries. Trauma gave way quickly to death, while the Kurgan's unfathomable quickening was still gathering force.

On their hilltop, the Watchers exhaled as one. They were further relieved when Methos fled the scene. The more experienced of them realized why, and Joe and Eve simultaneously ordered the planned assault be stayed for the moment.

Duncan reanimated, only to be blasted. Through incredible pain, he vaguely saw Methos jogging toward him, having just jumped back into the compound. He stopped at a safe distance and Duncan could no longer hold back the screams. He could not have imagined anything like this. It never seemed to end. Duncan was hoarse, uttering silent cries, before the quickening finally began to ebb.

Then Methos ran to grab Duncan's severed legs, jamming them painfully into the stumps. "Don't try to talk. Your upper legs are already mostly healed but this part will take work. The faster you can do it, the less damage to your calves and feet there will be. You're stunned and not experienced with concentrating your quickening but you have the power to do this completely." Methos voice and eyes were all that kept Duncan from fainting. "I know you can feel your quickening and the amputation. Bring them together,"

Duncan tried to speak but his voice was gone. Instead, he just shook his head.

"Yes, you can. You have tremendous power flowing through you. Just push some of it to your injuries."

Duncan looked to be concentrating but the legs weren't joining. Methos went at it again. "When the quickening strikes, you feel the pain where it hits. It's not everywhere, all the time; it has a location. Focus on those spots. His quickening was so strong that alone should do it."

Now the legs began to close. Duncan pushed himself as much as he could before physical and psychological exhaustion set in and the healing stopped.

"It'll do for now. You should be able to walk after a fashion without doing any damage. When you regain your strength, try again. You have enough power, just not the practice."

Duncan lay flat on the ground while Methos sat unconcernedly next to him, "Sorry I had to leave you but, after you died, the quickening started looking for a live receptacle. I'd have taken it for you but you needed the power for your legs."

Duncan mouthed his thanks and Methos nodded, almost gravely.

"I owed you for finding a way to reach me after Cassandra." A smile appeared, "Who knew you could be so manipulative, MacLeod?"

Several hundred meters away, Joe Dawson began to move toward his friends. "Joe, stop, that's an order."

"What are you going to do, Eve, fire me? Shoot me?"

"We don't know what they're capable of!"

"Come on. You gave the stand-down the same time I did. You saw Methos helping him. You know Methos doesn't care about fair fights, he was helping because there's not gonna be a challenge."

"That doesn't mean WE aren't a target."

"Maybe you are, but I'm not."

Joe then trudged off, leaving Eve to gesture to the rest of the Watcher platoon to follow, very slowly and with their weapons ready.

A few minutes later, Duncan started to pull himself to a sitting position, eventually succeeding with an arm from Methos. "It's amazing, I thought I'd never be able to move again. Now I can almost feel myself reenergizing."

"Get used to it, MacLeod, you're probably more powerful now than I am."

Duncan was, again, obviously struck by a thought, "What if it's a dark quickening?"

"He wasn't like that, MacLeod. Oh, he had one of the worst cases of bloodlust in history. Kill, rape, kill, rape. But it always started with hunting one of us; that's all he cared about. The only one left for you to hunt is me and I plan to stay quite far away. So the cycle will never start. If you have problems, the Watchers will stop you; it's not like they need to hide anymore. Plus I'm just a phone call away."

"Nice move, by the way. You've become a fine young athlete." Methos' tone was utterly casual, as if they had been sparring.

The last two immortals watched their chosen group of Watchers approach, blithely ignoring the automatic rifles trained at them. The odor coming from the mortals indicated Duncan's means of triumph had caused some stomachs to empty. As senior members, Joe and Eve composed themselves as much as possible and came forward. Methos, naturally, smirked.

"Told you, Joe. No grand finale, no Prize, no angels or demons, no end of the world."

"And precisely how did you know that?" This from Eve.

Methos smirk turned into a broad smile, the kind used to charm, "Now, now. If you're very, very good, I might fill in some of those nasty gaps in the Watcher Chronicles."

Eve bit back her retort; obviously, Methos had pushed the right button. He plowed forward, relentless. "Joe has my number, call me a month from today and I'll give you a down payment."

She hadn't quite been turned, "We're not leaving the two of you alone."

"No worries, MacLeod was just leaving."

This surprised everyone, including Duncan. "Methos, I thought you at least wanted to make sure that everything's . . . all right in the next few days."

"Oh, you know the drill now. Besides it's not as if you have a challenge tomorrow you have to be ready for. Joe can take care of you for a day or two until your head clears. With Eve's permission." He smiled at her again, and she squirmed slightly, causing the grin to broaden. "And under heavy guard, of course, to make sure the dreaded Methos doesn't come for you while you're mucking through all of the Kurgan's bloody memories."

Dawson snorted while Eve looked thoughtful. An extended silence caused all eyes to turn to her and, finally, she nodded. "But I expect that phone call." She still wasn't comfortable using his name.

Methos bowed slightly, "Your expectations shall be fulfilled." She moved off to issue orders.

"Joe, do you mind leaving one of your vehicles. There's only one in the compound and I've had quite enough of MacLeod's company. Oh, and not the one with the mounted heavy machine gun."

Dawson shook his head in mock disbelief, not that he had any trouble believing Methos' presumptiveness. "I've got a whale of a report to file. Don't be strangers, guys."

Duncan gave Joe a bear hug that had him reddening and gasping for air. Methos just gave a small wave. The watchers drove off, which both immortals knew to be only moving to a more distant spot and waiting.

"Do you really think we can separate; we're not joined at the hip for the rest of time?"

"As long as you provide the beer."

"Methos. I know you've seen everything and done everything and know everything and understand everything and are above it all and one with the universe, ohm ohm ohm, but there's still a lot I want to accomplish. Especially now."

"Especially now? You mean, now that you're the equivalent of a Greek demigod?"

"No, I mean now that Connor and Amanda and Richie and all the others are gone. I have things to do to honor their memory. A whole lot of things. And then there are the things I couldn't do while the Game was going on."

"Very well, MacLeod, but you need to control your noble side as well as your dark side. The Watchers can decide you're interfering too much even if it's for the good, and I'd hate to hear you had been hit by a machine gun firing acid pellets."

That gave Duncan pause. "So are we going to try it?"

"Yes, I'll stay here and you head back to the hotel. Tomorrow or whenever you're healed and coherent, you go west. Call me if there's a problem. Meantime, I'll go east."

"Why east?"

"Research, what else?"

Duncan had more to say but Methos shook him off. He gestured toward the compound and its grave site. "We both have very important arrangements to make and time that needs to be spent in private. I'll be in touch. Promise." Duncan could only nod and limp to Joe's car.

end part 35