AN – Thanks as ever for the reviews and the e-mails For those of you who are wondering about Walker, remember its not over till its over (evil grin)
Things get a bit complicated in this Chapter, I have it on good authority (and thanks for Southern Chickie and LoMaRiBa for their comments!) that it works, but it might help to bear in mind that Richie hasn't yet told Mac that he's knows about his Immortality, .. so what's a poor guilt ridden Scot to think?
***
As soon as the words were out of his mouth Richie regretted them. He hadn't meant to blurt it out like that. He'd meant to wait, a few hours at least, until they could talk about it. Like two adults, right?
Instead, he was standing here, stiff with pain from the injuries on his back, and others that Mac didn't know about yet, trembling with exhaustion and adrenalin and a couple of other things that he didn't really want to put a name to, in a dark, dank, tunnel, with a burning house behind and the blue lagoon blocking their way ahead.
Fervently wishing that he had kept his mouth shut when he saw the expression on the Immortal's face.
"It matters Richie," Duncan sounded like he couldn't believe his ears. "Of course it matters."
Richie, shrugged slightly inside the Immortals jacket, tensing slightly as his shirt rubbed across the welts. He was tired and cold feeling more than a little embarrassed, that, having held things together all week, the first thing he had done was break down and sob like a baby in the Immortal's lap.
Not to mention, that he was completely out of his league when it came to articulating the mixed emotions evoked by the Immortal's sudden, miraculous, rescue.
He had never been so glad no see anyone in his life.
And the open relief in Duncan's expression had warmed his battered soul.
Mac could do deadpan which the best of them. Richie had seen him face down other Immortals without so much as a flicker of emotion. That he would should his feelings for him, so openly, in the face of an enemy, had to mean something, right?
Except, the Immortal apparently didn't care enough about him to tell him that he would be Immortal.
"Why does it matter?" he insisted.
He wasn't sure what kind of reaction he had expected. Surprise, maybe, that he had figured out that he couldn't actually die? Resignation, perhaps that he wouldn't be able to nag him to stay safe all the time? Perhaps, even a little mad that he had discovered the truth?
Not this.
"You don't say that," Duncan reached out pulled him up by the lapel, so that he was balanced on his tip-toes, nose to nose with the Immortal, "You don't ever, say that. It matters. Do ye hear me?"
Almost oblivious of the burning pain, which the sudden movement ignited across his back, Richie could only stare open mouthed at the depth of the Immortal's reaction.
"B .. B ..ut .." he stuttered.
"For Lord's sake lad," Duncan changed his grip, cupping Richie's face between his two hands, "Do you not know yet how much you are loved? Your life is no mere bauble to be thrown away without care or thought. Do you think I would ask this of you, if I didn't think I could keep you safe?" he demanded.
Confused and a little overwhelmed by the Immortal's unexpected response. Richie looked away.
"Its not like you need to." He muttered.
After all, whatever happened, he'd live. One way or another.
***
As soon as he heard those words Duncan felt like a knife had cut into his soul. He had been afraid of this.
This was how Richie had been when he moved in. Too independent for his own good. Too reluctant to accept the help and care and support that was offered.
Determined to take care of himself.
Except, this time he could hardly blame him.
All week, he had tried to imagine what he would say to Richie when he finally had him safe and well. Except what could he say? I'm sorry that I was careless enough to let you get you kidnapped, I'll try to do better in future?
Little comfort that would be.
And now, his worse fears were being realised. Richie had been hurt, badly, body and soul, because he hadn't been there for him. Because he had made a mistake and failed to protect him, and now, Richie's trust, hard won and greatly prized, was clearly slipping away.
Things had come to a sorry pass, when a slip of lad, thought he had a better chance of keeping himself safe than relying on the offices of the great Duncan Macleod, of the Clan Macleod.
So, he offered the only defence he could think of.
"But, I want to," Duncan swallowed. "You have to believe that, Richie."
More than anything he wanted the lad to believe him. He wanted Richie to feel that he could be trusted with his welfare. All else aside, the lad needed someone to watch over him, however grown up and independent he might feel himself to be.
***
The clear sincerity in the Immortal's voice, brought Richie's head around. He still didn't understand why Mac was so sure fire determined to keep him alive and mortal, when he came with a ready made Immortal safety net.
But he was beginning to think that his motives for not telling him might be more complicated than just keeping the pesky teenager out of the adults business.
"I really, don't want to drown." He confessed truthfully.
Even if he couldn't die the water, looked cold and dirty, and he couldn't imagine that having your lungs fill up with water was any kind of fun.
"You won't," Duncan assured him. "I won't let you."
"Your jacket's gonna get ruined." Richie realised.
The sudden, bark, of laughter, from the Immortal, took Richie by surprise, even as he reached down to ruffle his hair.
"Sod, the bloody jacket." Duncan scoffed. "Leave it here."
Frankly, he was just relieved that, even though he clearly felt that the Immortal had let him down, Richie was prepared to go along with him. At least for the moment.
***
"I'm not taking all my clothes off." Richie said flatly.
"Why?" Duncan, gave him a sharp look. "Do you have any other injuries I should know about?"
He did. But that was hardly the point.
"Not everything in this world is about you, Macleod." He snapped, tightly.
There was a moment of silence.
"No, you're right. I'm sorry." Duncan's voice was tired and resigned.
If Richie was calling him Macloed again, then they had even more problems than he'd imagined.
"No," Richie sighed.
Whatever else was going on, his personal hang-ups certainly weren't the Immortal's fault. The Scot had never done the slightest thing to make him feel the least bit uncomfortable around him.
"I'm sorry. Long week, huh?"
His small attempt at levity did nothing to lighten the Immortal's expression, which was still creased in an uncomfortable frown.
"Mac?" he worried.
For some reason, which escaped Richie entirely, that simple enquiry, was enough to bring a genuine smile to the Immortal's face.
"Nothing.," Duncan shook his head. "Look, just strip off your outer clothing. Leave your pants and shirt on."
Moving carefully, Richie obeyed, lifting first one foot and then the other to removed the much hated brown, shiny, shoes.
"No," Duncan stopped him. "Leave your socks on. It helps against hypothermia."
"But they'll be all wet." Richie didn't see the logic in that.
"I know, but it still helps. Trus…." Duncan bit his lip so hard, it bled.
Richie looked up in surprise, when the Immortal didn't finish his sentence, only to see Duncan looking down at him with tears standing bright in his eyes.
"Mac?"
He really hoped Mac hadn't noticed the dried blood on his white socks. That wasn't a conversation he wanted to get into right here and now. "What's wrong?"
"Nothing," Duncan managed hoarsely, shaking his head.
The Immortal blinked hard, before focusing on the teen.
Then frowned.
"You have blood on your socks." He said, almost accusingly.
So much for not noticing, Richie sighed. Although, in truth, he was more than a little comforted that Mac seemed to care. After all, maybe it couldn't kill him. But it still hurt.
"Long story." He said honestly.
Duncan gave him an appraising look. The lad really needed to be in a Hospital, or at the very least, in a warm bed. Preferably, after a hot bath, and a warming bowl of broth, or three.
But this was neither the time or the place. He'd get the story out of the lad soon enough.
"You ready?" he nodded at the teen.
He didn't miss, the quick, nervous glance, that Richie gave the water.
"It'll be just like in Connor's pool," Duncan encouraged him. "All you have to do is relax."
"Just like Connor's pool, huh?" Richie scoffed. "So, where're the lions?"
"You liked them, huh?" Duncan asked, more to distract the teen than anything else, as he shepherded him into the cold water, taking him in chest deep, before giving him a moment to adjust to the icy temperature.
"Sure," Richie sucked in his cheeks against the cold. "Every home should have some."
"I'll try to remember that," Duncan smiled, glad to hear the lad being a little more like himself.
"What do I have to do?" Richie demanded, his eyes wide and scared.
Just trust me.
It was on the tip of his tongue, but Duncan couldn't say it.
"Take a couple of deep breathes," he instructed. "Get some air into your lungs."
Richie do so, creating little ripples in the water as his chest moved up and down.
"OK, the first parts not so bad," Duncan encouraged. "Only a minute or so. Just before we go, you take a deep breath and hold it."
"Right," Richie nodded, fervently wishing he'd worked out more, to build up his stamina and stuff. Still, a minute didn't sound too bad. He could do that. "You want me to kick or anything?"
"No," Duncan shook his head. He didn't want Richie expending any more energy than he needed to. He could propel them both through the water easily enough. It wasn't as if the lad weighed all that much. "Just .. don't let go, OK?"
"Whatever." Richie muttered, wondering if he should tell the Immortal why he was so afraid of water. Maybe, braving the burning building was the the way to go after all.
Except, being burnt to death probably hurt more than drowning.
And Mac would probably think he was just being a baby.
For his part Duncan sighed.
Clearly, he was going to work very hard to get the lad to trust him again.
Well, he could start by getting him out of here safely.
"You ready?"
Although clearly terrified, Richie nodded, took a deep breath, and they dived.