Part Three: Memories and Lies
Oh dark mistress, my only salvation
If only to hold you in blessed suspension
Eyes that hold midnight, smile that brings light
Strange fascination, my only placation
~~from Dead End Moon by Kevin Max
Chapter 42
Normandy, France
"... and when you were shot... that day in the school-yard... you really were shot? But it didn't hurt?" Derrick's voice pleaded to understand what he'd just seen.
Methos covered his grimace with a slight chuckle, "Oh it hurt... it hurt a lot... it always does... but it doesn't kill me."
"But Ellie's dead!"
"No... she's just sleeping. She'll awaken soon." No reason to worry the boy with the specifics of their lives.
"And what she did to that lady on the beach?"
The ancient sighed. "It's part of our survival... the lightning is called the quickening... it gives us our power to live without aging." Methos hoped he was answering the boy's questions in such a way that he would be satisfied... a way in which he wouldn't figure out the one truth they needed to keep from him.
"Those other bad people... they were like you and Ellie?"
Methos nodded reluctantly.
"And you had to kill them too? Take their quickening?"
The boy sat thoughtfully on a wooden chair in the small stone cottage into which Methos had carried Eleanor after their headlong drive from the church overlooking the beach. Methos had started a fire and lit an oil lamp... Phillip had never put electricity into this place, figuring if it were just a simple place, no one would bother it. There were few amenities here. But there were a few emergency supplies... at least enough for the night if they had to stay. Methos hadn't planned on coming here at all. It had only been one of several backups he knew of in the area; but the fight on the beach had meant he had to find a place quickly in which Eleanor could recover and they could hide from the dead immortal's watcher. As soon as she was able... they'd have to move on.
Meanwhile, Methos was attempting to settle the boy's mind by answering his questions... but without saying anything more than he'd have to. It appeared Derrick had already figured some of it out on his own. He'd already decided that Adam was a super-hero and now it seemed his beloved Ellie was too.
"Is Duncan like you guys? I mean... he took off to fight that man in the park and Ellie told me he took care of the one who kidnapped me right after I first met him?"
Methos let out a slow breath. He'd hoped the boy wouldn't put things together so well. Slowly he nodded, hoping MacLeod wouldn't take his head for that. But Methos needed to be honest with Derrick, at least up to a certain point.
"And Phillip? How about him?"
Again Methos nodded reluctantly and then shrugged. "Well... we are family." he said with a smile. Thankfully Eleanor stirred at that point on the metal bed. Methos turned his attention to her, motioning Derrick to remain silent and hold his questions for the moment.
But when Eleanor's eyes opened, they were the gray-green that had always entranced him. There was no glint of the odd light that sometimes seemed to glow from them as if some of Aja's old magic was trying to shine through. There was no sign in her face of the madness that usually overwhelmed her after a quickening. No sign of the rage that had been Kae Dhun for so many years!
Eleanor's hand went to her chest where the knife had pierced her lung. She coughed and shuddered, then glanced at him with a weak smile.
"You're all right," Methos murmured returning her smile.
Eleanor sat up on one elbow. "Yeah... I'm not lost... I didn't lose my balance this time." There was a sense of wonder in her voice. This was something new for her... to take a quickening... and not then blindly seek to kill all about her.
Behind him Derrick could no longer contain his enthusiasm. "Ellie... Adam's been telling me all about how you guys can't die!"
Eleanor sobered and looked at Methos, attempting to understand what Derrick meant. "He saw it all?" she whispered.
Methos closed his eyes and nodded ever so briefly.
Eleanor took a deep breath and pasted a smile on her face as Derrick came closer. She pulled him into an embrace and kissed his forehead. "Well we can die, little one, it's just not so easy to kill us."
"Yeah... you gotta cut off heads and take your enemy's..." he turned his head toward Methos, "... quickening. Did I say it right?" Suddenly the boy looked at her seriously. "Have you had to kill people before?"
"Yeah!" Her voice broke as it came out. "It's not easy to do... but sometimes it's necessary." The memories of Carmen Mendoza's sad life were still a part of her. Eleanor felt as though she had put on someone else's coat... a coat that didn't feel right... that didn't fit right. As yet, Eleanor seemed to see life as Carmen had seen it. If only someone else had found her... cherished her... given her a sense of self and built on the dancer's zest for life instead of using the woman as a punching bag and victim... then perhaps she need not have died. But her life had twisted her... she'd become only what she'd been taught to be. And now she was dead... but the soul of the dancer lived in Eleanor.
"Why don't you get Ellie that tea we were brewing by the fire," suggested Methos, hoping for a moment with Eleanor to let her know what he'd had to explain. Also... he'd noticed the odd look in her eyes and knew she still needed some time to adjust. He'd been there... too often over the centuries... attempting to collate a new life and a new set of memories, into the man he was at that time.
"I'd love some tea!" Eleanor smiled her most bewitching smile at the boy who grinned and crossed to the fire, carefully pulling the kettle off and pouring the tea into a cup.
"I had to tell him some of it, " Methos flicked with his fingers in Nin's silent tongue. Then he whispered, "But only about us and about Phillip and Duncan. He figured them out on his own." His fingers meanwhile flicked, "Nothing about his own potential. We have to try and keep that from him for the time being."
Eleanor nodded her understanding and agreement. She leaned into his embrace, her voice murmuring. "You were with me in the fight. I felt you there... I had your strength to draw on and your experience helped me face the quickening without losing my balance," she whispered.
Methos pursed his brows as he quietly stroked her hair... kissing it... this was something unexpected... something they needed to discuss.
Derrick let out a yelp!
Eleanor scrambled off the bed, pushing Methos to one side in her effort to reach the boy. Derrick stood there with a burned hand... already red and blistering. Eleanor knelt beside him and asked for cold water. Behind her she heard Methos pumping water from the pump and soaking a towel. He handed it to her and she carefully cooled Derrick's hand. "Did you do this on purpose? Why?"
"I wondered if I was like you guys? If I were injured... if I'd heal like you?" Tears of pain were in the boy's eyes and his voice cracked and broke in gasps.
"Oh Derrick... you are not like us. You are just a little boy. Please... don't ever do this again." She held him close and her eyes met Methos'. This was the lie they had to tell... the one they had to make him believe. They'd both known too many child immortals and understood the fate that awaited them. Somehow they had to protect Derrick from this fate. It would have been better if he had continued to live unnoticed by immortals in the mortal world. But events had intervened. He was a part of their world now... and they needed time to allow him to grow up... to fully grow into the potential they both felt contained within him.
"You said I reminded you of a friend. I thought maybe he was like you too and that meant I was."
"No baby... you're just you... I was drawn to you because you remind me of my dead friend... but you are you and I love you for who you are. " Eleanor cradled his up-turned face between her two hands.
By this time Methos had drawn enough water to fill a bowl and had set it beside the boy. "Put your hand in this... we need to properly cool that burn down." He eyed Eleanor. "We may need gauze and ointment... any ideas?"
"Sorry haven't needed any in a long time," she grinned sheepishly at him. Then Eleanor looked back at Derrick who, with his uninjured hand was feeling the spot where she had taken the knife. He was fingering her bloody shirt and pulling at it to be certain there was no wound there.
"There's still a scar there, will it fade?" he said quietly.
"Yes... as if I were never injured... and if you are lucky... your hand won't scar either."
Eleanor ran her fingers through his short sandy hair and looked at Methos. She felt like she was balancing on the edge of a sword... One wrong step... and everything they were working for would be lost if they weren't very, very careful.
Methos nodded. The same thoughts were also occurring to him. "I'll see if I can find something we can use as a bandage," he said quietly as he rose to examine just what Phillip might have left in this cottage that he could use.
