Part Two:

Joe had watched Methos leave, and with a shake of his head, he turned back to Mac.
"Couldn't you at least talk to the guy?" he demanded.
"Joe, don't start on me. This is none of your business." Mac's voice was gruff, and with a flourish he finished his drink and made to leave.
"Oh, no, Mac. You're not leaving. I want some answers. And don't tell me this is none of my business! You're both my friends and its Hell to see you like this!"
"You think it's easy for me?"
"I don't know what to think, MacLeod! You don't tell me anything and I got very little information from Methos. But, what I do know is the expression on that man's face. He looks like you just killed his puppy, Mac! Like he just lost his best friend..."
Joe let his voice trail, raising his eyebrows at Mac and willing the other man to take the bait.
"Fine, Joe. Get me another drink and I'll tell you what I can". With a sigh, Mac sat back down and tied to gather his thoughts as Joe poured them both a drink.
"Would you believe me if I said I wasn't mad at Methos?"
"At this moment, no".
"Well, I'm not. What I am is very confused. I may be taking it out on Methos, but that's something I'm sure he can deal with".
" 'Deal with'? Mac!"
"Ok, ok. Let me try and explain before you bite my head off. You know what happened in Bordeaux?"
"Some. I know that Methos killed Silas and you killed Kronos".
"Did he tell you there was a double Quickening?"
"No".
"The two Quickenings happened at the same time. When we took them, they joined together. I think I got some of Silas and Methos some of Kronos. But that's not all. Our Quickenings kind of joined together as well. I've never experienced anything like it before. It was like-like getting a glimpse into Methos' soul. When you take a Quickening, you kind of see their whole life flash before your eyes. But it's too much, so it becomes intergrated into your own being. With this, it was such a brief glimpse, and maybe because he took in some of my Quickening as well, it didn't settle. There's some strange connection there, Joe..." He faulted, and looked up at Joe, wondering if he'd made any sense at all.
The mortal was looking at him mouth agap, stunned in silence at the story.
Duncan gave him a wry grin.
"I know. It's incomprehensible. I have no idea why or really how it happened. Because we took two powerful Quickenings at the same time, in close proximity? A complete fluke? Some kind of cosmic joke? I've never heard of such a thing happening before."
"Man!" Joe whistled, shaking his head.
"Now, I can't tell you everything Methos has ever done - unfortunately. But I could sense that whatever, whoever, he was when he was with Kronos, he's changed. I could-I could feel his guilt. It was almost overwhelming. To live through that-I don't know. I thought it bad enough dealing with a dark Quickening, but this..."
"Maybe the world really was different then?" Joe commented.
"I-I guess so. We all know Methos is only trying to survive, right? That was the other thing that I felt. Even after 5000 years, I think- I think his underlying motiavation is a fear of death."
"I can think of worse."
"I guess so. I just - I don't know what to say to him, Joe. If I got a look into his soul, maybe he saw into mine. What would he have seen there? There's still a connection there, Joe, and I'm not sure I can deal with this."
"Well, maybe talking to him is a good place to start".
"And say what? And how do I even begin to apologise for what I said to him, what I thought about him. I acted like he was a monster, Joe! And he accepted it!"
"Maybe he thought that was the only way to deal with Kronos?"
"Get me mad enough to fight him? Maybe. That doesn't excuse it. I should have trusted him, listened to him. When will I learn, Joe?" Duncan groaned, and downed the rest of his drink. Joe finally smiled at his friend.
"Maybe you just did, Mac. So, now what?"
Duncan just shrugged.
"He's hurting, Mac. I don't think you realise how much. He cares about you, and, for some reason, about what you think of him."
Duncan met this comment with a raised eyebrow.
"Hey, we all want the great Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod to be our friend", Joe stated with a grin.
Duncan shook his head. "I do care about him, Joe. That's the other thing. When Cassandra had her sword to his neck..."
"Cassandra tried to kill Methos? What happened?"
"I asked her not to kill him. I just couldn't imagine him not being there. He's too important. He's 5000 years old..."
"He's just a guy".
"He means too much to lose..."
"To the world, or to you?"
"To me", Duncan whispered. Joe just nodded, wondering if that was part of the problem.
"So, tell him".
"I-I can't!"
"Try. The two of you can't go on like this."
"I know. But I can't. Not now." Signalling that what was the end of the conversation, in his opinion, Duncan got up and put his coat on.
"Ok. But if need anything, I'm always here."
"Thanks Joe. You're a good friend".
"I know," Joe replied with a grin as Duncan left. He didn't know what would happen now, but it was bound to be interesting.

Some time later, Methos found himself back outside the bar. He couldn't sense Duncan inside, so he figured that the Scot had been able to do what he hadn't - go home and rest. Seeing as he was here, he decided to infringe on Joe's hospitality once more. It didn't look like he'd be getting much sleep without it being alcohol induced anyway, with the mood he was in.

Joe raised an eyebrow as Methos reappeared, looking half frozen, and silently poured him a large brandy. When it was half gone, and some feeling had finally returned to Methos' body, the Immortal managed a smile in Joe's direction.
"You alright?" the Watcher asked, knowing it was a redundant question.
Methos shrugged. "I'll survive."
"As always," Joe acknowledged with a grin. Duncan's comments from earlier weighed heavily on his mind as he contemplated the number of times such a comment had gone from his friend's mouth, almost without conscious thought any more. Duncan was right - survival wasn't second nature for Methos, it was nature, the survival instinct his pure and natural state. Even more so than for other Immortals. Methos had so much more to lose, so much more to fear. Just as Duncan Macleod was still the Cheiftan's son, Methos' personality harked back to his early days - days when survival must have been an everyday struggle and life harsher then anything known imagined in the modern age. 5000 years! How the world had changed. How Methos must have changed. It was almost incomprehensible. Feeling woefully inadequate as he considered once again the modern miracle sitting at the bar, Joe did what he did best - poured more drinks and watched, available to listen if needed. The Immortal didn't even notice when the Watcher called time just forty-five minutes later. Two hours later, Joe finally decided to call it a night, and Methos, upright still only to his immortal constitution, stagged home to a pleasantly dreamless sleep.