AN- Hey, thanks as always for the feedback and the reviews. I wouldn't be writing without it. And I realise I haven't been writing at all recently, but real life has been really hard work. I haven't even been reading and I have a lot to catch up on – you guys have been busy. And I KNOW people are eager to see the final part of Richie's Punishment and it should be up very soon – but I figured some update better than no update and this was much closer to being finished!
***
"There's still no word?" Darius asked in concern as Duncan shook the rain from his coat.
"Its been almost ten hours," Duncan looked tired and worried. "Surely he should have tried to make contact by now?"
"I'll fetch you some tea." Darius disappeared towards the small kitchen.
"Maybe its not you that he wants." The dark haired man at the table, picked at the label on his beer.
Duncan looked closely at him. It was not unusual for Darius to have a stream of Immortal visitors, but he couldn't recall seeing this man before.
"Duncan Macleod, of the Clan Macleod." He intoned formally.
"I know," the man took a swig of his beer.
Duncan waited, but nothing more was forthcoming.
"You're supposed to tell me your name." he prompted.
"But then I would have to kill you."
Duncan looked up sharply. The man shrugged.
"You can call me Adam, its not my real name, but since this isn't a Challenge that hardly matters, does it?"
He took another swallow of beer. Then looked up in concern.
"That, wasn't a Challenge, was it?"
"I've only just met you," Duncan pointed out. "What reason could I have to fight you?"
"That wouldn't stop some people." Adam returned his attention to his beer.
"Its it a little early for that?" Duncan couldn't help himself.
"Why do people always say that?" Adam sighed. "Do you have any idea how many time zones there are in this world?"
"I just never heard of beer as a cure for jet lag before." Duncan sat down.
"Don't listen to him Duncan," Darius spoke from the doorway. "He thinks beer is a cure for everything."
"So, have you two know each other long?" Duncan fished.
"Since we were teacher and student." Darius gave the dark haired man a fond look, as he set the tea things on the table.
"You were Adam's teacher?" Duncan assumed.
"Something like that." Adam murmured.
***
"What did you mean before?" Duncan asked, as he sipped at his tea. "Maybe, its not me that he wants?"
"It's a long story," Adam warned. "You're going to have to trust me."
"Not with Richie's life," Duncan said flatly. "Tell me all of it. I have plenty of time."
"But Richie doesn't." Adam pointed out.
"You know something, don't you?" Duncan demanded.
"I thought I said that?" Adman looked at Darius. "Didn't you hear me say that?"
"Listen to him Duncan," Darius advised. "Your boy's safety may depend upon it."
Somewhat, but not entirely, mollified by Darius' clear endorsement of the man, Duncan set his jaw.
"Alright, I'm listening."
"Walker has a son. Marc. Whom he and his new bride fostered and then adopted from the Sisters of Mercy Orphanage, shortly after his arrival in France. A pre-immortal son." Adam told him. "Before that, he fostered your blonde haired, blue eyed boy, also pre-immortal."
"You told him about Richie?" Duncan frowned at Darius.
Although, Richie's status no secret to any Immortal who actually met him, Duncan had been decidedly cautious with the friends he had allowed the lad to meet. So, far Connor, Darius and himself were the only ones who knew what the boy was, and what he would be.
And now, apparently, this stranger knew.
"I didn't need to," Darius shook his head. "Let him talk Duncan. You need to hear this."
Duncan took another mouthful of tea, but held his peace.
"Before that, Walker had another son, Michael. Adopted as a foundling aged two months by Walker and his previous wife, shortly after he came to Seacouver. The child was killed, by a hit and run driver, when he was fifteen, playing ball in the street."
"Richie mentioned him." Duncan had a bad feeling about this.
"Did he mention that this boy was also pre-immortal?" Adam raised a brow.
***
"What happened to him?" Duncan asked in a strangled voice.
"He died." Adam said tonelessly.
"After that," Duncan insisted tightly.
"There was no "after that," Adam spoke quietly, looking into his beer. "Walker had been grooming the child to be the perfect Immortal. Dying at fifteen, didn't fit into his plans."
"He took his son's Quickening?" Duncan felt sick.
"Some would say it was an act of mercy." Adam looked up.
"He was only a child!" Duncan shot back. "A child who looked to his Father to care for and protect him."
"And taking a child, especially a pre-immortal child, into our world is such a good way to protect them." Adam murmured sarcastically.
"It depends on the alternatives." Duncan felt obliged to defend his own actions.
"You should have found your Richie a nice mortal family," Adam told him flatly. "That's what we do. Its in the manual or something."
"Richie was different. He needed me."
"And ducklings will treat a pair of yellow gum shoes as their mother if that's the first thing they see when they hatch." Adam shot back. "That boy would have taken to anyone who showed him the slightest bit of kindness and understanding. It didn't have to be you."
"So, I find him his first ever bit of stability at sixteen, only to rip that away from him when he dies his first death?" Duncan scoffed.
"That might not happen for decades, if at all." Adam pointed out.
"You haven't met Richie, the lad attracts trouble like a magnet. I'll be lucky if I can give him a few scant years of stability. At least, this way, he won't have to give up all that he knows when he becomes Immortal."
"Duncan had the child's best interests at heart." Darius affirmed.
"Well, maybe Walker will do a better job." Adam mused.
"What?" Duncan looked up.
***
"But he doesn't want Richie," Duncan protested. "He had his chance at him and he threw him out."
"Richie's grown some since then," Adam reminded him. "And he has the makings of an excellent swordsman."
"That's as maybe, but he doesn't need Richie," Duncan refused to believe it. "He'll have his hands full training Marc."
"Who died aged only nineteen." Adam spun his beer around. "Which makes him smaller and weaker than most."
"Its young, aye," Duncan acknowledged. "But a good teacher can compensate for that, even turn it to an advantage."
"And what about a bad teacher, with a track record of punishing failure with the sharp edge of his sword?" Adam enquired.
Duncan thought about that.
"I think Marc had better be a real fast learner."
"Especially now Walker has a ready made replacement waiting in the wings, waiting to be moulded into his own image." Adam added.
"You really haven't met Richie have you?" Duncan scoffed.
The lad was eager, and willing to please. But he was entirely his own person. It was one of the things that Duncan loved about him.
"I know that Walker will have his hands full." Adam allowed.
Duncan stilled. Suddenly uneasy.
"Duncan?" Darius asked quietly.
"Richie is my son now, Walker knows that." He vowed. "He wouldn't dare .."
"Dare what?" Adam asked.
"Don't you know?" Duncan challenged. "You seem to know everything else."
"Not everything," Adam admitted modestly. "Just most things."
Duncan ignored that.
"When Walker had care of him he thrashed him unmercifully for the slightest transgression." Duncan swallowed hard. "Richie promised Tess that he'd do everything he must to ensure that he lived. But .."
"But the boy is too stubborn to have any real sense of self preservation." Adam said, not unkindly.
"How do you know all of this?" Duncan demanded.
In answer, Adam pulled up his sleeve, to reveal a tattoo, shaped rather like a bird.
"You're an ornithologist?" Duncan scoffed, even as the design triggered some long dead memory in his brain.
"I'm a Watcher," Adam told him, standing up. "Darius will explain."
"Wait," Duncan protested. "Where are you going?"
"To find out where Walker has taken your precious boy." Adam threw over his shoulder.
"He couldn't have done that before?" Duncan demanded of Darius.