A/N: A bittersweet reunion, and an unhappy Preston. I couldn't quite manage to smooth out all the rough edges in this chapter. I hope it doesn't bother you guys too much. But regardless, read on and enjoy the coming week.

Chapter Thirteen: The Long Way Home

Saturday, May 9, 1998: Mid-Afternoon

Cailean moved quickly across the grounds. It wasn't safe here. Perhaps Aed just wanted him out of harm's way, somewhere he could live out the rest of his life until she returned. But he wasn't the kind of person to just sit back and wait for things to happen. No, he definitely preferred a more direct approach in solving his problems. But all of that would have to wait. There were still a few things he wanted to investigate further, and didn't think it wise to continue digging.

He had already been here too long, and it wasn't safe to keep hanging around on his own. It was only a matter of time before one of the wand-wielding wankers up in that damn castle came out for some fresh air and spotted him. He would just have to come back another day. Maybe then he would actually have some idea of what he was going to do. That woman, Narcissa. Hopefully she would be useful. He was still dubious of her sudden eagerness to help him, and she clearly had no respect for regular people. He didn't count as one of those anymore, but still…

There was a strange tomb he had been desperate to check out ever since they had initially stumbled across the castle, but reluctantly decided to keep moving. Unlike the rest of this place, it appeared more or less untouched since its construction. He imagined a powerful wizard lying there, encased beneath sheets of purest white.

How long did magical beings live? Two hundred years, three hundred? Or perhaps they died young, the power too much for their bodies to contain. He assumed the site to be under some kind of enchantment or spell to keep it from harm. How else could it have weathered whatever war had ravaged the surrounding land so terribly? The grounds and castle had been fully restored somehow, but he could not forget how they had appeared less than a week ago. This tomb had not suffered the same fate, and he vowed to one day find out why. The freaks, including his Aed, had kept their magic to themselves for God knew how long, selfishly guarding mankind's next leap forward.

Glancing over his shoulder at the tomb one final time, he passed through the main gate with an inexplicable sense of unease. Today, he had managed to find a functional magic wand, and a talking chess piece that could probably provide him with some useful information if he played his cards right. That was quite enough to be getting on with for the moment. He would have to figure out how to use the wand properly before showing it off to his mates though. They went out drinking together often, and he knew the seasoned cynics wouldn't be too impressed with his multicoloured sparks. The man chuckled to himself. They would probably dismiss the display as a result of too much whiskey. First impressions were going to be very important, and he had to make sure that the entire village understood the power he possessed. It wouldn't be safe to take anyone else to this monstrous place, so the only other option was to bring the magic to them.

The next thing he knew, Cailean found himself far away from the castle, surrounded by cows and trees and dirt. He grunted in surprise, shocked at the distance he had travelled. The countless trains of thought bouncing around in his head had certainly been an effective distraction, whether he wanted one or not. He looked up at the cloudless blue sky, his village just beyond the horizon, and wished that he didn't have to do this alone. It had been easier last time, when everything might still have figured itself out. Prior to this week, he hadn't even known this old dirt road existed, but now the familiar landscapes conjured up a warm feeling in his chest.

Absently, he wondered if Will was still off in the head. Maybe he would pay the duffer a visit this evening, or catch him down at the pub. Despite his better judgement, Cailean remained optimistic. Several days had passed since their disastrous outing to the accursed castle, so he reasoned that the darkness shrouding his mind may have lifted. After thinking over their interaction, he concluded that the cause of his alarming behaviour was somehow connected to magic. There was no way the spell, or whatever had been done to him, was still active. He hoped that was the case anyway. He did not want to think about what he would do if the young man had still not regained his memories. The idea unsettled him greatly. He missed Will's harebrained theories and their quiet early-morning conversations over tea, and he was sure that his friend would believe him about everything he had experienced, even if he had no good reason to do so.

The small farm house came into view some hours later. Letting out a relieved sigh, Cailean approached the dwelling, attempting to ignore the pain from his blistering feet. His whole body ached, and a migraine had been steadily building throughout his walk back home. He hoped that it was only due to dehydration, but there was no way of knowing for sure. Regardless, it was imperative that he figure out a more convenient means of transportation between the castle and here. He couldn't keep putting himself through this, but it was the only way he was going to learn what he needed to. At the very least, he should pack some food and water next time he went. He hated feeling as though he could fall over at any moment. He was usually the strong one, and he didn't much care for changing that now.

The puppy tackled him as he opened the front door. Well, it had tried to, but despite its best efforts, the tiny creature barely made Cailean flinch. It yapped and jumped at him, its tail wagging madly. He half-heartedly reprimanded the 'naughty boy', but they both knew it was an empty threat. Cailean poured water for the pair of them and headed into the shower, looking forward to seeing his friend again tonight.

(=)

"You surely aren't going to just leave me here alone with that beast?" Cried a muffled voice from the folds of Cailean's jacket.

Preston! How could he have forgotten about the pretentious game piece? The cold shower had relaxed him somewhat, softened the edges of his long and difficult day. But now it all came rushing back, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the floor and shut the world out for a while.

"I can't take you with me now," he told the knight sternly. "The fellas down at the pub will treat you like a toy. I'll be back in a few hours."

"But," began Preston. "The… dog! The mutt'll eat me alive! It's not safe here. I don't want to be alone."

Cailean fought the urge to feel sorry for the piteous hunk of marble. To his credit, Hendries was keeping far away from Preston's current place of residence. He knew not to come near clothes if nobody was wearing them. Aed had been the one to teach him after he had ripped up one of her church dresses.

"You'll be fine, Hendries will keep his distance, I promise," said Cailean, gently patting the spot where he thought Preston was cowering. "I won't be gone long. Just stay put and I'll be back, okay? I want to have a chat with you later actually," he added as an afterthought, hoping the knight would appreciate feeling useful.

There was a long pause then. Cailean waited for Preston's response in patient silence, but was quickly growing bored. As he turned to go, the chessman spoke up.

"Very well. I shall wait here until your return. Just don't take too long."

"I won't," Cailean promised, before heading out the front door and locking it behind him.

It was a short walk to the pub, only five minutes down the road on foot. Well, he thought with a bitter chuckle, it wasn't as though he had any other options. Cars had become commonplace as he grew older, but him and Aed could never manage to save up enough money to buy one. Inflated bills or a particularly fruitless harvest dashed any hopes of them cruising the crumbling streets in a fancy motorised vehicle.

He prayed that Will would be there tonight. It had been a long and difficult day, and he needed someone to help ease the pain of Aed's betrayal. He wasn't too worried though. For as long as he'd known him, the young man spent most evenings staring down a pint of Gus' cheapest ale or unsuccessfully chatting up anything with a pulse. His antics were often amusing, but Cailean hoped that Will managed to remain serious for at least a little while. This night should answer at least a few of his many questions, starting with the wellbeing of his best friend.

The stout building came into view a few minutes later, bringing with it the stench of tobacco and booze. The air was thick with it, and though Cailean had grown used to the pungent aroma long ago, perhaps even enjoyed it, it still took a moment for his senses to adjust. The rough stone was thick and sturdy, and could probably withstand more than most other surrounding structures. He supposed that there was little more to village life than working and drinking, so preserving the only pub made sense. He walked down the narrow cobbled path, ignoring the tightness in his chest. Either Will was better or he wasn't. He had no power to change the situation, so he would just have to live with it. The place was busier than normal, if the raucous conversations coming from within were anything to go by. He approached the main entrance and stepped inside, almost ready to face whatever was in there.

"Cailean!" The shrill cry came from somewhere close by, but the big man still had to look around for a moment before spotting its owner.

"Will?" It was an effort not to knock over tables and chairs as he quickly closed the distance between them. "You remember me?"

"Course I do!" exclaimed Will, raising his voice to be heard over the other patrons. "It's not easy forgetting you mate. If I could, I'd have done it years ago."

"Bastard," growled Cailean, but his tone was affectionate. "How have you been?"

"Let's talk outside," said Will, rising unsteadily to his feet. "I'd rather have this conversation away from prying eyes and curious ears."

An unexpected request, but Cailean saw no real reason to go against his friend's wishes. With a shrug he stood as well, and the pair of them headed out the back door. He tried not to stare longingly at the bar as they passed it. There would be time for drinking later, and resisting the urge probably built character. Besides, this was clearly important to Will, and he would give the man his full, unimpaired attention.

Will led them over to a low wall that separated the pub from the street beyond, perching on its edge and looking up expectantly at Cailean to join him.

"Aren't we a little old for that?" the bearded man asked, hesitant to put himself through such unnecessary torture.

"We won't be long, promise," said Will. "Come on, you're wasting valuable drinking time."

With a heavy sigh, Cailean sat down and turned to the other man. He had never been able to refuse an invitation to drink. "Go on then. What's been going on?"

"Where to even begin," replied his friend, rubbing the back of his neck and looking down. "I've had the most terrible headache for almost a week now, but I think it's finally started to fuck off. Apart from that I've just been feeling hazy. I don't know how else to describe it. Like I can't remember things properly. Things I'm pretty sure I've done."

"Like what?" Cailean asked, his forehead creasing slightly.

"Well," he began, staring at the ground. "Did we do something on Monday? Something big?"

"What kind of big?" asked Cailean. "We definitely did something on Monday. I had to work late every night this week to make up for the time I lost on the farm."

"Did we… go somewhere?" Lines Cailean had never seen before began to form on Will's face as he attempted to continue. "Like, a castle? I can't be sure."

Cailean stared at his friend for a while, at the unruly mop of blonde hair whipping about his face. He never understood how it always managed to stay out of his eyes. "Yes, we did go to a castle," he said after a moment. What should he do now? Tell Will everything, or leave him with a few scant details? Or should he say nothing at all, make him forget about that awful day and let everything go back to how it used to be.

"That's all I can remember. Just vague stuff that feels more like a dream than anything else." He looked pleadingly up at his friend, begging for words the older man knew better than to give.

Cailean ran a hand through his dark hair, noting that it felt thinner than ever. His only real option was to shave it all off, but he'd been delaying the inevitable for years. It would never grow back into what it used to be, he knew that. But the shoulder-length curls were all he had left from his teenage years. It was comforting to hold onto something so pure and simple, before magic and marriage muddied the waters of his blissfully normal life.

Finally coming to a decision, Cailean decided to keep the events of the past week to himself, at least for now. It wouldn't be worth troubling the already unstable man. Perhaps more of his memories would return in time. Then they would be able to have a proper conversation about this.

"It was just an old castle mate," he said. "Not all that exciting really." He placed a rough hand on Will's shoulder, and felt it tremble beneath his touch. That couldn't be good.

But if Cailean knew anything, it was that alcohol was the best distraction. Let all these problems find them in the morning, when they would both be hungover, too groggy and irritable for a long, unpleasant talk. Time was all Cailean needed, and by God he was going to get it. What he really had to do was go back to that castle, learn more about magic, and figure out a way to rescue his wife. Narcissa had better hold up her side of the bargain, because they both knew he couldn't do a thing without her.

"Come on," he said, standing. "I'm thirsty. And you owe me a pint from last time."

Will looked as though he wanted to argue, but shrugged and followed his best friend back into the pub.

._.

Late One Night:

The room was dark and deserted. All that could be heard was the scurrying of rats and other vermin. The young man stood in the doorway, no longer flinching at the sound. It used to get to him back when he'd first taken up residence here, but he had since grown accustomed to the unwelcome company. This had been his home for months, an existence he celebrated or lamented depending on the day. His neighbours weren't a chatty lot, and he had to fight a debilitating loneliness that never left him alone. He no longer had a family, not anymore anyway. They had each made their choice, and neither party missed the other. He fought the urge to hit something, a recent development in his self-control that had saved the lives of many dirty pillows and plates. He would not let his violent past resurface. It felt like part of a life that was detached somehow, no longer his. He really was different now.

The corner of his mouth wrinkled in mild disgust. He flicked on a light switch next to the rotting front door. Nothing. He played with it sometimes, telling himself that the blown-out bulb would one day decide to function once more. If only change was that simple. At least the place was clean, even if he couldn't see it. Well, mostly clean anyway. His bed was always made and there were never any dirty dishes in the sink. He could find his way around in the pitch-black darkness of night, a skill that came in dead useful whenever he received an uninvited guest. Of course, it wasn't as though many people bothered trying to rob this dump.

He moved around the small apartment, adjusting the cushions and pieces of furniture that he could sense were out of place. He supposed that this was just a distraction, a means of wasting all the time he had to sit around between jobs. Contrary to his admittedly lacklustre accommodations, the young man led a rather interesting life. It was just boring as shit the rest of the time. That was all.

But he was in no position to complain. He could have had it a lot worse considering his financial situation and general state of wellbeing. He did miss the luxuries of his youth though. Air-conditioning, structure, comfort… He didn't quite have money in his budget for a duvet, and couldn't find it in himself to make such a frivolous purchase. The only time he experienced a truly pleasant night's sleep was in the arms of his latest conquest, and he always had to get up early the next morning, so it wasn't worth going to the effort more than once or twice a week.

He couldn't complain. Shouldn't. Other people had it a lot worse, though he found it difficult to believe most days. His new self was fighting what he used to be, the altruistic part of his brain against the selfish. He nearly lost the battle more times than he cared to admit, but always got back on the proverbial horse of self betterment. His line of work allowed him to relieve himself of any anger or frustration he felt toward the world. He really couldn't complain.

Collapsing onto the sofa with more than a few patches of fabric and stuffing missing, he let himself relax. It had been a long, difficult day. But it was over now, his work was done. He was just about to put his feet up when he remembered what had been delivered that morning. He rummaged around in the pockets of his leather jacket before finally extracting what had been shoved into a corner of his mailbox. No envelope, no return address. Just a scrap of paper with a few words scrawled on it. Though it was short, the young man didn't need any more information. The Hunter had just found a new employer, and it was going to be his most high-profile case yet.

A/N: I just can't stay away, can I? There's just something so viscerally satisfying about posting another chapter. See you in a few days probably. Only five chapters to go before I'm fresh out of material. Yay?