AN- Hey. Thanks for the reviews. I'm glad someone is still out there reading this. This is a really long chapter – but it should make a few things a bit clearer – and raise a few new questions (grins evilly) I did say I wasn't going to make it easy for Richie!!

***

"Maybe you should be the one to talk to him." Duncan hedged.

Methos looked up in surprise. That was the last thing he had expected.

"Why me?"

"You know, sometimes, if I didn't know better, I'd swear you were Richie."

"Oh come on Macleod. Just because I can be sarcastic doesn't mean I have anything in common with the brat."

"You forget irritating and annoying." Duncan pointed out.

"Did I?" Methos arched a brow as he sprawled even further across the couch.

"Maybe not." Duncan acknowledged.

He knocked Methos feet to the floor and sat down beside him.

"We're still not sure how much he knows. I don't want to make him uncomfortable."

"He knows you." Methos reassured. "He may not exactly remember you, but do you think he'd be so comfortable with a stranger?"

Duncan smiled fondly. "At first it was like raising a skittish colt. He was so desperate for affection, but if you pushed too hard, went too fast .."

"You've done a good job with him." Methos was sincere.

"Are you feeling alright?" Duncan enquired.

"Hey. I can do nice." Methos protested.

"So you'll talk to Richie?" Duncan glanced sideways at him.

"When did you get to be the manipulative one?" Methos complained.

"It seems fair." Duncan gave him a significant look.

"Hey. All I did was look after the kid. Did you see me brooding? I think not."

"I didn't see you at all." Duncan said archly.

"Ah." Methos sunk a little further into the sofa.

"He needs to talk to someone." Duncan insisted.

"So why not you?" Methos was genuinely curious.

"Because." Duncan looked away. "I think I'm the problem."

***

Methos watched as Richie moved across the Dojo wielding his sword with quick, angry, movements. Macleod was mistaken. He didn't need to talk.

At least, not yet.

"Can two play at that game?" he enquired.

"You want to fight me?" Richie looked slightly worried.

"Don't worry." Methos gave him a reassuring smile. "I left my 5000 years of experience in my other pants."

"I guess if you were going to kill me, you would have done it by now." Richie acknowledged, bringing his sword up.

"I never said I wouldn't kill you." Methos teased, readying his blade.

"You can try." Richie grinned back.

Methos soon realised that Richie was every bit as good as he had thought. Fast, smooth and fluid, with a range of techniques. It was no easy fight. Methos felt a little mean using a move to disarm him that had fallen out of use centuries before Macleod was born.

But only a little.

The kid would have been absolutely insufferable if he had won.

"Um. Nice move." Richie complimented him, with as much dignity as he could manage with a sword at his throat.

"Thanks." Methos quickly removed the blade and offered the kid a hand up. "You've learnt a thing or two yourself."

"For someone who lost." Richie pointed out.

"You win when it counts." Methos reminded him.

"I guess." Richie looked away.

Methos nudged him. "How would you like to be able to knock Macleod on his bum?"

Richie laughed. "Like that's gonna happen anytime this century."

"Oh. I don't know." Methos said innocently.

***

Much later, they sprawled, tired and sated, on the polished wooden floor. Richie had proved a joy a teach, a quick, responsive, student, who seemed born to the sword. Methos couldn't remember the last time he had enjoyed training anyone quite so much.

"So, are you ready to tell me what happened with Saul?" he asked.

Richie didn't open his eyes.

"What did you and Mac do? Draw straws?"

"He asked me to talk to you." Methos saw no reason to beat about the bush. "He's worried that you're afraid to tell him."

"I'm not afraid of Mac!" Richie sat up.

"You're not afraid that he might be disappointed in you?" Methos asked levelly. "If he knew the truth?"

The colour that turned Richie's face beet red answered for him.

"Have you ever heard of the Hippocratic Oath?" Methos asked him.

"The what?" Richie looked nonplussed.

"I'll take that as a no." Methos decided. "The Hippocratic oath has been taken by Doctors in various forms since the Greeks discovered modern medicine. Basically it invented Doctor/Patient confidentially."

"And you've taken this oath?" Richie thought he could see where this was going.

"Several times actually." Methos nodded. "I think throwing up on me qualifies you as my patient."

"I'm sorry about that." Richie managed the ghost of a smile.

"No, you're not."

"You really won't tell Mac?" Richie asked hesitantly.

"On my honour." Methos vowed.

***

"I thought I was going to die." Richie admitted quietly.

"Saul was a soldier. Born to the sword. With centuries of experience. But you're good. Better than he would have expected." Methos wondered if  that was what had sparked the ancient Immortal's interest.

"He was playing with me." Richie shook his head. "Testing me. I guess he wanted to see what I could do. Then when he was ready .. he killed me."

"He didn't do a very good job of it." Methos pointed out.

"I was kinda surprised to wake up." Richie gave a fleeting smile. "Although the ropes were a bit of cliché."

"He tied you up?" Methos had suspected as much.

"Yeah." Richie scowled. "It wouldn't have been so bad if he hadn't been such a sweet old fashioned guy. Handcuffs are way easier to get out of than ropes."

"Especially when they are wet." Methos agreed. At Richie's surprised look he shrugged. "In 5000 years there are very few things that I haven't experienced."

Or done. But he didn't think Richie needed to know that right now.

"Oh." A little of the tension seemed to leak out of Richie.

"You didn't think you were the only person in the Universe who had ever been kidnapped, did you?" Methos scoffed, not unkindly.

"I'll bet its not high on Mac's list of things to do at the weekend." Richie said quietly.

Methos frowned.

"Is that what this is about? You think Macleod's going to blame you for being taken prisoner?"

Richie paused.

"Yeah. That's it. I mean he taught me better than that? Right? I shoulda seen it coming. I screwed up."

A week ago Methos would have believed him.

This was not a week ago.

***

"Um. Are you sure you want to do this?" Richie glanced over at him. "Mac said I wasn't to leave the Dojo."

"I'm sure." Methos kept his eyes on the road.

"He was pretty mad the last time you kept me all to yourself." Richie shifted slightly in his seat. "Maybe we should go back."

"Since when did you start following orders?"

"And do you really think it was a good idea to steal his car?" Richie winced.

"We're not stealing it." Methos corrected. "We're just borrowing it."

"Without asking? That's usually classified as stealing."

"We'll ask him when we get back."

"Where are we going anyway?" Richie demanded.

"We're here." Methos pulled over.

"Here?" Richie looked around at the deserted beach. "There's nothing here."

"There will be in a minute." Methos assured him getting out of the car and taking off his shoes and socks.

"And you know this because ..?" Richie stared at him for a moment, shrugged and followed suit.

"Centuries of experience." Methos shrugged, sitting down on the low stone wall and wiggling his toes in the sand.

"Of course." Richie sat down. Then waited. Then fidgeted. Then looked at Methos in exasperation.

"Are you going to tell me or do I need to guess?"

"I'm going to tell you. Then you're going to shout. Then I'm going to shout. There's probably  going to be a lot of noise." Methos shrugged. "That kind of thing tends to bring Macleod running with his sword drawn. I thought we might both want to avoid that."

"Oh well. Good." Richie nodded. "What the hell are you talking about?"

Methos told him.

***

"Can't you understand English?" Richie yelled. "I've told you already. I'm not lying. For the last time. Nothing happened. So just leave me the hell alone."

Methos looked at the younger Immortal. Richie was angry and frustrated and he didn't care who knew it. He was also scared out of his wits.

He, on the other hand, was just pissed.

"Not bloody likely."

He seized hold of Richie by his shirt front and dragged him up until they were eye to eye. "I didn't spend the best part of the last week mopping your brow and mopping up your sick so you could tell me to butt out now. Whatever Saul did to you was bad enough to fritz your brain. You are going to talk to me and we are going to fix this."

"The hell I am." Richie protested. "Cos there is nothing to tell."

"Then let me tell you something." Methos seized his jaw and forced Richie to meet his gaze. "You can't run away from this. It is inside you now. It will haunt you and eat away at you until you dying day. Do you think you are strong enough to bear that?"

"I don't need your help. I don't need anyone's help." Richie struggled to get away.

"Only a fool doesn't need friends." Methos shook him slightly. "And you're better than that."

"How do you know?" Richie challenged  "How do you know what I'm really like?"

"A man is judged is the quality of his friends." Methos thought he'd read that somewhere once. "Me. Amanda, Joe, Macleod. We'd all stand by you. No matter what. If this week has taught you anything it must have taught you that."

"Maybe you wouldn't if you knew the truth." Richie spat.

"Richie. We will not abandon you." Methos told him. "We love you."

The blow came out of nowhere.

A small, detached, part of Methos brain recognised that it was a very respectable right hook.

The rest of it was screaming in agony as his nose exploded across his face.

Richie froze, staring in horror at his bleeding knuckles and then at the blood and cartilage pouring from Methos nose.

"I'm sorry." He faltered, taking a step back. "I didn't mean .."

"You couldn't just have said it with flowers?" Methos managed.

***

"I'm sorry." Richie had been apologising for the last ten minutes.

"Richie. Its fine." Methos assured him. "See?" He waggled his now healed nose. "Good as new."

"You're shirt's ruined." Richie noted unhappily.

"That's alright." Methos grinned at him. "You can buy me a new one."

"Gee. Thanks." Richie gave him a shy smile.

"Now you see." Methos raised a brow at him. "That's more the response I was going for before."

"I'm sorry." Richie said again.

"Yes. I know." Methos gave him an exasperated look. "Now do you think you could tell me something else? Like what happened with you and Saul?"

"I never thought of not being able to die as a disadvantage before." Richie whispered.

"He tortured you?" Methos realised.

He was suddenly, irrationally angry that Saul was dead. He wanted to kill him himself.

"Yeah. He knew all kinds of nifty ways to scar and main." Richie swallowed. "I figure he'd had lots of practice."

"That's why you needed his clothes .."

"Yeah. You think that yellow jacket attracted a lot of attention." Richie shook his head. "Zombie is so not a good look."

"How many times did you .. die?" Methos was finding it surprisingly difficult to talk about this.

"I don't remember." Richie scuffed a toe in the sand. "Quite a lot. I think. Took a long time."

"Yes. I imagine it would." Methos sighed.

He'd known before that Richie was stubborn. But he'd mostly discounted it as usual teenage angst. This week had given him a whole new respect for the kid's ability in that area. He wouldn't have been an easy mark.

Which raised the other question. Contrary to popular belief very few people tortured others simply for fun.

"Richie. What did he want?"

***

It took a long time for Richie to get the whole story out. Methos was patient, offering support when he thought Richie would allow it and giving him space when he realised he needed it.

"You are pretty good at this." Richie told him when he was done.

"Been there. Done that." Methos shrug didn't come off quite as unconcerned as he might have liked. Richie's experiences had dredged up some unwanted memories.

"Do you ever get over it?" Richie asked.

"No." Methos was honest. "But you can learn to live with it. Talking about it helps."

"Is that what you did?"

"Not for far too long." Methos shook his head.

"I thought that was Hippocratic Oath. Not Hypocritical." Richie said with an absolutely straight face.

Methos stared at him for a moment. Then they both began to laugh.

"Do as I say. Not as I do. Brat." Methos scolded when he could speak again.

"Five thousand years of wisdom and that's the best you can do?" Richie shook his head.

"We should be getting back." Methos stood up. "Macloed will be getting worried."

"You aren't going to tell him are you?" Richie looked anxious.

"No." Methos shook his head. "But I think you should."

"What!"

"He needs to know." Methos was adamant.

"Nuh uh. No way. Not going to happen." Richie was equally stubborn.

Methos paused. Something was definitely not right here.

"Richie. What else do you remember?"

"Who me? Nothing." Richie shook his head. Methos wasn't entirely sure that he believed him.

"But the sword?" he prompted.

"I told you. It didn't work." Richie shook his head. "Not so much as a flicker."

"So, when exactly did you remember about Saul?"

"When Joe told me that he killed me." Richie looked a little sick at the memory. "I mean. I'm not entirely sure that I had completely forgotten that. But it was like bits and pieces. Kind of like a dream. And after .. before .. with the vase .. I wasn't sure if they were my memories or his. When Joe told me that he'd killed me .. it all kinda fell into place."

"So, how did you know where to find the coffee beans?" Methos puzzled.

"I have absolutely no idea." Richie gave him a haunted look. "That really freaked me out. Who keeps coffee beans in the freezer?" he demanded.

"Its good for the favour." Methos told him absently. "So you just instinctively looked in the right place?"

"Maybe. Yeah. I guess so." Richie allowed.

"Has that happened before?" Methos wondered if they were on to something.

"You don't think I might have mentioned it?"

"With you. I have no idea." Methos drawled.

"Funny." Richie scowled.

"Come on." Methos turned back to the car. "Macleod probably has an stolen vehicle report out on the T-Bird by now."

"I thought you said it wasn't stealing?"

"I said I thought it wasn't stealing. I never said Macleod would feel the same way."

"Are you going to make me tell him?" Richie looked away.

"Richie. Nothing that happened was your fault. Macleod will understand that." Methos stressed.

"Oh get real." Richie shook his head. "Its pretty clear that I owe everything to him. The guy took me in when I had nothing, gave me a better life, taught me to survive. And how do I repay him?"

For the first time that afternoon, Richie's voice wavered. "With betrayal. How on earth is he going to understand that?"