AN- This always works out shorter in my head than it does on paper! So, here's the next instalment. Thanks for reading and reviewing all this time. I think there's one more chapter left. But hey, I've been wrong before.
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Duncan stifled a curse when he realised what must have happened. Somehow, in that tendril of Quickening, Richie had absorbed some of Walker's memories. Placing a hand on either side of his head, he gently tipped Richie's face upwards so he could look into his eyes.
"Its alright. Its normal. Don't worry, it'll pass."
Mindful of the lad's injuries, he drew him gently into his chest, wrapping his arms around him, offering comfort, security, safety. Only when he met Adam's eyes over Richie's head did he allow his concern to show. He had never heard of a pre-immortal taking any part of a Quickening before and he had no idea of what to expect.
"Don't look at me." Adam shrugged.
"Thanks." Duncan said dryly.
The sound of a distant police siren brought them both back to the present reality.
"Oh Lord, that's all we need." Duncan sighed.
"Two Quickenings in broad daylight, in the middle of one of the post populated cities on earth?" Adam raised a brow. "You don't think that's going to attract a little bit of attention?"
"Mac?" Richie looked up, his expression fearful. "Am I gonna go to jail?"
"Its alright Rich," Duncan soothed. "Its nothing for you to worry about."
"You'd better take him inside, before he bleeds to death." Adam pointed out.
"What about ..?" Duncan nodded at the two headless corpses.
"I'll deal with it." Adam assured him. "There are some advantages of being in the Watchers. Marc's body will probably turn up some distance from here. Which will, at least, allow his mother to give him a decent burial. When Walker fails to turn up, suspicion for the murder will naturally fall on him."
"What about Walker's body?"
"It will be disposed of." Adam said curtly. "Without any tangible evidence to the contrary, it won't be difficult to convince the police that the lightening was just some freak weather condition. For now."
"I'm going to have to move again, aren't I?" Duncan sighed.
"There is a reason why we don't usually conduct our business on our own doorsteps." Adam agreed.
"Better take this," Duncan shrugged out of his coat. "Yours has a big hole in the back."
"Alright," Duncan settled Richie on the couch, reaching over for a cushion to elevate his leg. "Just hold on a second. I'll be right back."
"No, Mac!" Richie's voice came out thin with panic. "Please, don't leave me alone with him."
"Richie," Duncan sat down on the couch and put a hand on his shoulder. "Walker's dead. He can't hurt you anymore."
"But I can .. feel .. him." Richie protested.
"I know," Duncan acknowledged. "You remember that when we take another's head, we take their strength, their power?"
"Mac, I'm not Immortal yet. If I was, I wouldn't be bleeding all over the couch."
Duncan wondered how he was going to explain something that he didn't even understand himself.
"You're not bleeding that much," He made a quick check of the wound. Luckily, Walker's sword had sliced crosswise, rather than deep into muscle and bone but it would still need stitches. "Look, let's get you fixed up and then we'll talk, OK?"
Visibly gathering his courage, Richie nodded.
Duncan gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder and went to quickly gather together what he would need, being mindful to keep up a conversation, so that Richie could still hear him, in those moments when he could not see him.
"I was thinking," he improvised. "When Tessa comes home, maybe we could all go on a vacation. Have a bit of a holiday. Would you like that?"
There was a brief silence.
"Where?" Richie's voice sounded slightly strained.
"I don't know," Duncan tried to move a little faster. "Where would you like to go?"
No response.
"Rich?"
"Daad." Richie whimpered.
Racing back to the couch, Duncan found the teen curled up on the couch, with his hands pressed over his ears, as if to block out the voices. Or rather, a voice.
"Richie. Richie!" Realising that the lad couldn't hear him, Duncan gently prised his hands away from his ears. "Its alright, I'm here."
"Make it stop," Richie begged, throwing himself into the surprised Immortal's arms. "Please make it stop. I can hear him and I can feel him. Its like he's inside me. And he's all anger and hatred, so much, and it hurts."
"Hey, hey, its alright," Duncan patted his back, comfortingly. "Its just memories, Rich, its not real."
"Sure as hell, feels real." Richie sniffed, against his chest.
"I know," Duncan acknowledged, ruefully. "But you're in control here, Rich. You take what you want from a Quickening and the rest will fade."
"Take?" Richie frowned. "Like what?"
"Whatever you need, sometimes swordplay, maybe languages, can be a whole range of skills."
"I don't wanna be like him."
"You won't be," Duncan assured him. "You're definitely unique." He tousled his hair.
Richie laughed.
"Feeling better?" Duncan asked gently.
"Yeah," Richie agreed shyly. "It helps when you're here."
"How's the patient?" Adam bounded down the stairs.
"Bearing up." Duncan gave Richie an encouraging smile, as the lad snuffed and swiped an arm across his face, in an attempt to pretend that he hadn't been crying.
"That leg will need stitches." Adam observed, as he sat on the arm of the couch.
Duncan had chosen not to ask where Adam had acquired his medical supplies. Richie reluctantly allowed the two Immortals to switch places, so he could work. But he only relaxed when Duncan settled back behind him, wrapping his arms around him in a gentle grip. He sat quietly as Adam administered a shot, before he carefully cleaned up the wound, deftly closing it with a few, neat, stitches.
Glancing up, Adam saw that Richie's expression was drawn and tight.
"You alright?"
"Yeah," Richie nodded. Although, his eyes said differently.
"The first kill is always hard." Adam cut straight to the chase. Ignoring the look of thunder that Macleod shot him over Richie's shoulder.
"I'm glad I killed him." Richie said flatly.
Reading the consternation on Duncan's face, Adam kept his tone carefully neutral. The sentiment was understandable, but it was a dark path for one as young and inexperienced as Richie.
"Oh?"
"He was gonna kill Mac. I couldn't just stand there," He twisted around a little to look his mentor in the face. "You would have done the same for me."
"He has you there." Adam smiled, as he set to work on Richie's raw and blistered palm.
"You're not helping." Duncan pointed out.
"Hey," Adam looked up from his doctoring. "I'm helping." He looked at Richie. "You see me helping here, don't you?"
"Rich, I know you thought Walker probably wouldn't kill you, but you knew he would hurt you, didn't you?"
"Mac, don't you get it? I didn't care about him, or me," Richie looked away, embarrassed. "I just cared about you."
"You saved my life, you know." Duncan said softly.
"Mac, please don't tell me you're proud of me for killing him," Richie's voice cracked. "I don't think I could stand that."
There was a short, awkward silence.
"Um. I think I'll go out and buy some beer." Adam decided.
"We have a whole fridge full of beer." Duncan pointed out.
"So, I'll buy some more."
"You'll come back?" Duncan asked. It was as much an order, as a request. They had things to discuss.
"Of course." Adam assured him.
"What's his problem?" Richie asked curiously, as soon as Adam had left.
"He's being tactful," Duncan raised a small smile. "I don't think he's had a lot of practise."
"Are you gonna yell at me?"
"No, but we do need to talk."
"Sounds like you're gonna yell."
"Hush. Just listen. I've done a lot of things I'm not particularly proud of in my life. Killing Marc, wasn't exactly my most shining moment. He was young and stupid and didn't really deserve to die. But he'd had his chances and he proved he couldn't be trusted. Sometimes, a man has to do what he must to protect his family."
"Hey, c'mon Mac," Richie tried to reassure him. "We both know you didn't have any choice."
"So, can you understand that, I can hate the killing, and the necessity for it, but still be proud that you would make a stand to protect those you love?"
"That does make a weird kind of sense." Richie smiled at him.
"Hey, I'm a weird kind of dude." Duncan butted him fondly. Then he sighed.
"What?"
"Nothing."
"That line never works when I use it."
"When I took Walker's Quickening, well, I took some of his power, his memories," Duncan reminded him gently. "He's part of me now too."
"So?"
"So, I don't want you to feel uncomfortable with that."
"Oh," Richie considered that. "Did you learn anything about me that I hadn't already told you?"
"Well, no." Duncan realised.
"Have you acquired any sudden urges to beat the hell outta me?." Richie cocked a brow.
"No more than usual." Duncan smiled ruefully,.
"See," Richie looked away. "That's why I love you."
"What did you say?" Duncan sat up a little straighter.
"You heard." Richie looked sideways at him.
"Say it again." Duncan nudged him fondly.
"Maac."
"Cos, otherwise I might think it was just the result of a drug induced rambling." Duncan teased.
"Hey, you're my Dad. Of course, I love you." Richie shrugged.
"What did you say?" Duncan blinked.
"Don't start with me, Mac."
"That's the third time you've called me that today." Duncan smiled.
"Then you don't need me to say it again."
"Aw c'mon Rich," Duncan wheedled. "I've been waiting a long time for this."
"Hey, was it my fault that I wasn't around for the first few centuries?" Richie protested. "I happen to think I'm worth waiting for."
"I bet you tell that to all the girls." Duncan grinned.
"You're not gonna kiss me, are you?"
"I'm your Dad," Duncan said proudly. "Its in the job description."
Richie sucked in his breath and looked away.
"What did you call your Dad when you were a kid?"
"Dad." Duncan shrugged.
"Mac, I'm serious. There must have been some Gaelic word or something."
"There is," Duncan shrugged. "Dad. There are slight variations in Irish, Scottish or Welsh Gaelic, in Welsh in comes out as Tad, but its pretty much Dad."
"Oh." Richie looked crestfallen.
"You're still not very comfortable with Dad, huh?" Duncan recalled their previous conversation about the matter.
"I want to be," Richie squirmed. "And I am, sometimes. Its just, it reminds me of people like Walker. He made me call him Dad. He didn't care what I wanted. I just thought if we could have something that was ours .. it'd be different."
"You could use Vater," Duncan suggested. "That's German."
"Sounds like Vader," Richie grinned. "You gonna turn to the dark side, Mac?"
"Not if I can help it," Duncan smiled at him. "Alright, what about Padre? That's Italian."
"Makes you sound like a priest," Richie dismissed that. "I don't think Tess would be too pleased."
"None of your cheek, laddie. How about Pai? That's Portuguese."
"Pi? As in Math questions? How nerdy is that?" Richie shook his head.
Duncan sighed. This was proving more difficult that he had thought. "What about Polish?"
"Nasz?" Richie wrinkled his nose.
"Maybe not." Duncan sighed. Noting how tired and drawn the lad was looking he reached over and snagged a blanket from behind the couch.
"What are you doing?" Richie asked suspiciously
"Nothing," Duncan settled the pillow behind his head.
"Maaac." Richie rolled his eyes.
"You're gonna have to stop that." Duncan said smugly.
"Trust me," Richie scowled at him. "When you're being this annoying. You'll still be Mac."
"You need to rest. Give your body a chance to make up the blood loss." Duncan tucked the blanket over him.
"You said, I wasn't bleeding that badly." Richie protested half heartedly, his eyelids already drooping.
"You know, you never did tell me where you wanted to go on our Holiday?" Duncan smiled at the sleepy teenager.
"Disneyland." Richie murmured.
"Really?" Duncan's heart sank. "You wouldn't rather go somewhere .. real?"
"Disneyland, is real." Richie closed his eyes as he snuggled into the pillow. "I've seen it on TV."
"I'll give you that," Duncan chuckled. "Alright, but you're the one who gets to tell Tessa that we are going there this year instead of St Moritz."
Richie open one eye to regard him fuzzily. "I can do that, she's already gonna be mad enough at you that we have to leave Paris. Not to mention the whole lightshow thing."
"You heard that, huh?" Duncan stroked his hair.
"Do we have to tell her everything?" Richie wondered. "She's gonna be upset."
"I don't think we're going to have any choice Rich," Duncan frowned slightly. "I didn't know you could speak Russian?"
"I don't," Richie mumbled sleepily.
Duncan sighed as he tucked the blanket a little more securely around the now sleeping teen. "You do now."