CHAPTER 92
When Duncan, Amanda and Joe returned to the room, they were surprised to find Beth sitting
alone in the middle of the bed. Her knees were drawn up to her chest as she hugged herself
tightly and it was obvious from her swollen eyes that she had been crying. Still, she was eerily
calm.
"Did you and Adam have another fight?" Amanda asked as she moved to sit on the edge of the
bed and pull her friend into a hug.
"No … no, we didn't fight." Beth shook her head. "But he's gone …"
Duncan and Joe exchanged a look and Duncan ran from the room. He searched the waiting
room, checked with the ICU nurses, and was just going out the front door when he ran into
Richie.
"He's gone Mac." Richie told him. "I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen. He took your
car and was gone before I could get two words out. Asked me to make sure Beth and the baby
had a better life than he could give them and drove away."
"Damn!" Duncan cursed. Methos had left them to handle everything, and had left before he even
knew if the baby would make it.
"He look pretty torn up man." Richie continued. "I don't know how far he will get. I wouldn't be
surprised if he didn't turn around once he got to the edge of town."
Duncan shook his head. "No, he's gone. He left before he could change his mind."
"How are you going to break it to Beth?" Richie asked.
"She already knows." He replied, turning to go back inside.
Joe and Amanda were still with Beth. She didn't say much about what had happened, only that
Adam thought she was sleeping and would stay that way for awhile. "Some nurse told him I'd
been given another injection." She told them.
Amanda spoke up. "We didn't think you would want to miss another visit with Cassie, so when
they came in … Joe and I declined."
"Thank you." Beth replied as she leaned her chin on her knees and continued to sit quietly. Even
if Adam never came back to her, at least she had those precious moments he thought he was
stealing without her being aware. She could still taste him on her lips and feel his hands stroking
her hair and body. The thought of it brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes.
The four immortals exchanged glances. Beth was holding so much inside. They wondered what
had happened, but obviously she wasn't going to talk about it now.
"How long before I can see my daughter?" she asked as she wiped her eyes on the bed sheet.
Joe looked at his watch and told her it would be about 45 minutes.
"I appreciate all of you being here, but could I have a few minutes alone?" she asked. She could
see they didn't want to leave her, but she insisted. "Really, I'll be all right. I just need some time
to think."
"We'll be outside." Duncan said as he and the others left her. Richie squeezed her shoulder as
he left, smiling at her bravery.
---------------------
Adam swung by Rosa's to get his things and then drove the few hours it took to get to the airport.
He didn't really know where he was going, and all flights were delayed for weather. Just his luck.
He chose a flight to Paris since it was set to take off first once the weather cleared, and went to
wait with the rest of the passengers.
Sitting with his bags at the gate, Adam was lost in thought. He wondered how Cassie was doing,
and how Beth would take the news that he had gone. His mind drifted to the moments he'd held
her and he began to feel sick. What had he done? He'd just walked out on the best thing he
could remember ever having in all his centuries. "I'm cursed." He repeated the words Beth had
used earlier.
Some children laughing at the end of the row of chairs caught his attention. He looked up to see
a little girl covered with ice cream. Her father holding an almost melted cone in one hand while
he tried to wipe her off with a napkin in the other. Her brother was making race car noises and
circling around them. The noise was annoying many of the other passengers, but the man didn't
seem to notice. He was too busy enjoying his children. Anyone with eyes could see how much
they adored him.
The scene was too much. Methos picked up his bags and headed back outside where he'd left
MacLeod's rental car. He drove for hours into the night, finally stopping the next day around noon
when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He was in some little town in Switzerland, and
saw a sign that said rooms for rent. It looked like a quiet place where he could get some rest.
Methos didn't stop to unpack anything or even remove his clothes. Laying on the bed, he was
exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come. He tossed and turned for the better part of an hour before
finally giving in. Picking up his phone, he dialed the number to the ICU nurse's station to check
on Cassie's condition. It was unchanged. He thanked her for the information and laid back down
on the bed. In his mind he knew he was doing the right thing for Beth and the baby, but in his
heart he couldn't help but feel this was all wrong. He should be there. They needed him.
He spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening staring at the ceiling before his need
for sleep overcame him. When he awoke around 4am, he had to call again. This time the news
was a little better. The child was conscious and her fever had gone down a bit. "Do you want me
to patch you into the phone in the waiting room?" the nurse asked. She recognized his voice.
"You're wife is there."
"No … no thank you." He replied, cutting the connection.
For three days it was the same. Methos stayed in the little hotel, hardly eating or sleeping as he
waited for the next opportunity to call for an update on Cassie's condition. In his mind he thought
he was just being concerned, when sub consciously he was staying within half a day's drive in
case something terrible happened.
The morning of the fourth day he made his usual call, but the ICU nurse wouldn't give
information. "I'm sorry, but we've been asked to restrict information on that patient." She replied.
"But I'm her Father." Methos argued. "You know me."
"I'm sorry sir, but we have no way to verify that information … I could patch you through to the
waiting room if you would like."
No he would not like. He suspected MacLeod was behind this. It would be like him to push Beth
into cutting him off.
Methos slammed down the phone in frustration, grabbed his coat and stalked out of the hotel. He
needed some air and beer … a lot of beer.
The early morning mist was still rising over the hills surrounding the town. Methos purchased 6
bottles from a little store nearby, tucked the bag under his arm and decided to get away from
everything. He walked to the edge of town and then hiked over a few hills until nothing else
existed around him but trees, grass, and the sight of the snow covered mountains in the distance.
He popped the top on one bottle and then a second. He was reaching for a third when the sky
opened up and the rain began to pour.
Methos muttered under his breath as he looked for a large tree or some place to take shelter.
Hiking further up, he saw the roof of a secluded house an instant before he felt the presence.
"Could this day get any worse?" he moaned when he saw the large immortal step out of his
house with sword in hand.
Carefully laying the bag with his remaining beer on the ground, Methos shrugged off his trench
coat and pulled out both swords. He recognized this man as a former Roman soldier named
Marcus Augustus and knew this would not be easy.
"It's been a long time Marcus." Methos said as the man moved closer.
"That it has Methos. It's been a long time since I lost my command because someone whispered
in the ear of Caesar about my dalliance with his sister. I didn't enjoy that crucifixion."
Methos didn't reply. The man knew very well why he'd ratted him out. Marcus Augustus led a
raid on the home of a family Methos was particularly fond of. Despite his misfortune, he didn't
look any the worse for wear that Methos could see.
"How shall it be my friend? Shall I draw it out, our would you prefer I take your head quickly?"
Marcus taunted.
"Funny … I was going to ask you the same."
The two came together with a flash of steel on steel as Marcus was forced to block both of
Methos' swords with his one. He was taller and very powerful, obviously keeping himself in
condition, so he was not an easy mark.
Methos lunged and caught Marcus on the thigh, but received a slash to his back in the process.
Using one sword to block he tried to gain advantage, but found himself being backed up across
the base of the hill.
"You're not as quick as you used to be." Marcus commented.
Methos replied with a volley that backed Marcus up momentarily, but was stopped when his
opponent managed to use his elbow and shoulder to slam into him, sending his extra sword flying
through the air.
"This is not good." Methos thought to himself as he held his single sword with both hands and
began to focus all of his energy on defense. As the rain continued to fall, the sound of their
swordplay echoed across the hills and mingled with the sounds of thunder.
Marcus slashed wickedly across Methos' forearm, rendering it useless for defense. Holding that
arm close to his side, the ancient immortal knew he needed to find an advantage or he would be
in severe trouble. He pivoted and whipped his sword first across his body and then back,
throwing Marcus off balance, but he was unable to capitalize on it. The bigger immortal managed
to flinch just enough for the blade to miss him.
Marcus pounded away at Methos, driving him further and further back until he was able to power
his way through and drive the sword into his side. The wound would not kill him immediately, but
would significantly slow Methos down.
Methos staggered and tried to focus as the pain began to blur his vision. He knew where the next
blow would be coming and he had to block it … he had to.
Marcus swung hard at Methos neck, putting all his weight into it, just as Methos tripped over the
bag containing the beer bottles. As he fell backward, Marcus tumbled over him. Methos thrust
his sword up caught the man in the gut before twisting it and letting the momentum of Marcus's
body extract it as he sprawled on the ground behind him.
Through a haze, Methos struggled to his knees and raised his sword. Marcus was on all fours,
having found the strength to try and lift himself even as his insides spilled onto the ground.
Methos knew that in a matter of seconds he would not only lack the strength to finish this, but
would find himself lying dead on the ground from the loss of blood. "Aggggghhhh!" he groaned
as he brought the sword down across Marcus's neck.
The lightening began to rip through his body just as his life poured out. His limp body raised into
the air in an ethereal glow while Marcus Augustus' Quickening roared through it. For several
minutes the air crackled with electricity around him until with one bright flash of lightening, the air
forced itself into his lungs and his eyes opened wide. Before his body lowered to the ground,
Methos felt the same familiar presence and clasped the unseen hand tightly. If this was as close
as he could ever let himself be to her was this phantom presence that invaded his mind, then he
would embrace it every time it came. He wondered why it was happening, but as always …
figured that it was some manifestation triggered by his sub conscious.
When Duncan, Amanda and Joe returned to the room, they were surprised to find Beth sitting
alone in the middle of the bed. Her knees were drawn up to her chest as she hugged herself
tightly and it was obvious from her swollen eyes that she had been crying. Still, she was eerily
calm.
"Did you and Adam have another fight?" Amanda asked as she moved to sit on the edge of the
bed and pull her friend into a hug.
"No … no, we didn't fight." Beth shook her head. "But he's gone …"
Duncan and Joe exchanged a look and Duncan ran from the room. He searched the waiting
room, checked with the ICU nurses, and was just going out the front door when he ran into
Richie.
"He's gone Mac." Richie told him. "I tried to talk him out of it, but he wouldn't listen. He took your
car and was gone before I could get two words out. Asked me to make sure Beth and the baby
had a better life than he could give them and drove away."
"Damn!" Duncan cursed. Methos had left them to handle everything, and had left before he even
knew if the baby would make it.
"He look pretty torn up man." Richie continued. "I don't know how far he will get. I wouldn't be
surprised if he didn't turn around once he got to the edge of town."
Duncan shook his head. "No, he's gone. He left before he could change his mind."
"How are you going to break it to Beth?" Richie asked.
"She already knows." He replied, turning to go back inside.
Joe and Amanda were still with Beth. She didn't say much about what had happened, only that
Adam thought she was sleeping and would stay that way for awhile. "Some nurse told him I'd
been given another injection." She told them.
Amanda spoke up. "We didn't think you would want to miss another visit with Cassie, so when
they came in … Joe and I declined."
"Thank you." Beth replied as she leaned her chin on her knees and continued to sit quietly. Even
if Adam never came back to her, at least she had those precious moments he thought he was
stealing without her being aware. She could still taste him on her lips and feel his hands stroking
her hair and body. The thought of it brought a fresh round of tears to her eyes.
The four immortals exchanged glances. Beth was holding so much inside. They wondered what
had happened, but obviously she wasn't going to talk about it now.
"How long before I can see my daughter?" she asked as she wiped her eyes on the bed sheet.
Joe looked at his watch and told her it would be about 45 minutes.
"I appreciate all of you being here, but could I have a few minutes alone?" she asked. She could
see they didn't want to leave her, but she insisted. "Really, I'll be all right. I just need some time
to think."
"We'll be outside." Duncan said as he and the others left her. Richie squeezed her shoulder as
he left, smiling at her bravery.
---------------------
Adam swung by Rosa's to get his things and then drove the few hours it took to get to the airport.
He didn't really know where he was going, and all flights were delayed for weather. Just his luck.
He chose a flight to Paris since it was set to take off first once the weather cleared, and went to
wait with the rest of the passengers.
Sitting with his bags at the gate, Adam was lost in thought. He wondered how Cassie was doing,
and how Beth would take the news that he had gone. His mind drifted to the moments he'd held
her and he began to feel sick. What had he done? He'd just walked out on the best thing he
could remember ever having in all his centuries. "I'm cursed." He repeated the words Beth had
used earlier.
Some children laughing at the end of the row of chairs caught his attention. He looked up to see
a little girl covered with ice cream. Her father holding an almost melted cone in one hand while
he tried to wipe her off with a napkin in the other. Her brother was making race car noises and
circling around them. The noise was annoying many of the other passengers, but the man didn't
seem to notice. He was too busy enjoying his children. Anyone with eyes could see how much
they adored him.
The scene was too much. Methos picked up his bags and headed back outside where he'd left
MacLeod's rental car. He drove for hours into the night, finally stopping the next day around noon
when he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He was in some little town in Switzerland, and
saw a sign that said rooms for rent. It looked like a quiet place where he could get some rest.
Methos didn't stop to unpack anything or even remove his clothes. Laying on the bed, he was
exhausted, but sleep wouldn't come. He tossed and turned for the better part of an hour before
finally giving in. Picking up his phone, he dialed the number to the ICU nurse's station to check
on Cassie's condition. It was unchanged. He thanked her for the information and laid back down
on the bed. In his mind he knew he was doing the right thing for Beth and the baby, but in his
heart he couldn't help but feel this was all wrong. He should be there. They needed him.
He spent the rest of the afternoon and most of the evening staring at the ceiling before his need
for sleep overcame him. When he awoke around 4am, he had to call again. This time the news
was a little better. The child was conscious and her fever had gone down a bit. "Do you want me
to patch you into the phone in the waiting room?" the nurse asked. She recognized his voice.
"You're wife is there."
"No … no thank you." He replied, cutting the connection.
For three days it was the same. Methos stayed in the little hotel, hardly eating or sleeping as he
waited for the next opportunity to call for an update on Cassie's condition. In his mind he thought
he was just being concerned, when sub consciously he was staying within half a day's drive in
case something terrible happened.
The morning of the fourth day he made his usual call, but the ICU nurse wouldn't give
information. "I'm sorry, but we've been asked to restrict information on that patient." She replied.
"But I'm her Father." Methos argued. "You know me."
"I'm sorry sir, but we have no way to verify that information … I could patch you through to the
waiting room if you would like."
No he would not like. He suspected MacLeod was behind this. It would be like him to push Beth
into cutting him off.
Methos slammed down the phone in frustration, grabbed his coat and stalked out of the hotel. He
needed some air and beer … a lot of beer.
The early morning mist was still rising over the hills surrounding the town. Methos purchased 6
bottles from a little store nearby, tucked the bag under his arm and decided to get away from
everything. He walked to the edge of town and then hiked over a few hills until nothing else
existed around him but trees, grass, and the sight of the snow covered mountains in the distance.
He popped the top on one bottle and then a second. He was reaching for a third when the sky
opened up and the rain began to pour.
Methos muttered under his breath as he looked for a large tree or some place to take shelter.
Hiking further up, he saw the roof of a secluded house an instant before he felt the presence.
"Could this day get any worse?" he moaned when he saw the large immortal step out of his
house with sword in hand.
Carefully laying the bag with his remaining beer on the ground, Methos shrugged off his trench
coat and pulled out both swords. He recognized this man as a former Roman soldier named
Marcus Augustus and knew this would not be easy.
"It's been a long time Marcus." Methos said as the man moved closer.
"That it has Methos. It's been a long time since I lost my command because someone whispered
in the ear of Caesar about my dalliance with his sister. I didn't enjoy that crucifixion."
Methos didn't reply. The man knew very well why he'd ratted him out. Marcus Augustus led a
raid on the home of a family Methos was particularly fond of. Despite his misfortune, he didn't
look any the worse for wear that Methos could see.
"How shall it be my friend? Shall I draw it out, our would you prefer I take your head quickly?"
Marcus taunted.
"Funny … I was going to ask you the same."
The two came together with a flash of steel on steel as Marcus was forced to block both of
Methos' swords with his one. He was taller and very powerful, obviously keeping himself in
condition, so he was not an easy mark.
Methos lunged and caught Marcus on the thigh, but received a slash to his back in the process.
Using one sword to block he tried to gain advantage, but found himself being backed up across
the base of the hill.
"You're not as quick as you used to be." Marcus commented.
Methos replied with a volley that backed Marcus up momentarily, but was stopped when his
opponent managed to use his elbow and shoulder to slam into him, sending his extra sword flying
through the air.
"This is not good." Methos thought to himself as he held his single sword with both hands and
began to focus all of his energy on defense. As the rain continued to fall, the sound of their
swordplay echoed across the hills and mingled with the sounds of thunder.
Marcus slashed wickedly across Methos' forearm, rendering it useless for defense. Holding that
arm close to his side, the ancient immortal knew he needed to find an advantage or he would be
in severe trouble. He pivoted and whipped his sword first across his body and then back,
throwing Marcus off balance, but he was unable to capitalize on it. The bigger immortal managed
to flinch just enough for the blade to miss him.
Marcus pounded away at Methos, driving him further and further back until he was able to power
his way through and drive the sword into his side. The wound would not kill him immediately, but
would significantly slow Methos down.
Methos staggered and tried to focus as the pain began to blur his vision. He knew where the next
blow would be coming and he had to block it … he had to.
Marcus swung hard at Methos neck, putting all his weight into it, just as Methos tripped over the
bag containing the beer bottles. As he fell backward, Marcus tumbled over him. Methos thrust
his sword up caught the man in the gut before twisting it and letting the momentum of Marcus's
body extract it as he sprawled on the ground behind him.
Through a haze, Methos struggled to his knees and raised his sword. Marcus was on all fours,
having found the strength to try and lift himself even as his insides spilled onto the ground.
Methos knew that in a matter of seconds he would not only lack the strength to finish this, but
would find himself lying dead on the ground from the loss of blood. "Aggggghhhh!" he groaned
as he brought the sword down across Marcus's neck.
The lightening began to rip through his body just as his life poured out. His limp body raised into
the air in an ethereal glow while Marcus Augustus' Quickening roared through it. For several
minutes the air crackled with electricity around him until with one bright flash of lightening, the air
forced itself into his lungs and his eyes opened wide. Before his body lowered to the ground,
Methos felt the same familiar presence and clasped the unseen hand tightly. If this was as close
as he could ever let himself be to her was this phantom presence that invaded his mind, then he
would embrace it every time it came. He wondered why it was happening, but as always …
figured that it was some manifestation triggered by his sub conscious.