Chapter 20

Scotland, March 2011

The small red car pulled up beside Derrick as he stood staring at the newspaper headlines. He and Methos had come to town for supplies.

A red-haired girl and a dark-haired one leaned out through their car window.

"Hey cutie… " They laughed.

Derrick looked up at them with an open smile.

"Want to go for a ride?" they laughed again.

Derrick shook his head.

"He's a dummy… he never says anything," the brunette teased.

"Dumb… but cute," the redhead replied.

They drove off.

Derrick stared after them. At some point in the last year… he seemed to have garnered the attention of several of the local lasses. He wasn't certain why. Methos had given him strict instruction to be circumspect in any communication he might have with locals… so Derrick chose to say nothing. But he found he rather liked their teasing and attention.

"Help me with this," Methos said carrying out several bags of seed and fertilizer. Derrick grabbed one and tossed it easily into the back of the land rover. Methos tossed the others in and grinned as he nodded at the departing lasses. "And what did they want."

Derrick shrugged, but he felt a bit flushed. "I think they wanted me to take a ride with them."

Methos stood straighter and arched an eyebrow as he watched the car turn the corner and vanish. "I'll just be they did."

"I think they think I'm slow."

"Not a bad way to be thought of sometimes, Derrick. No one ever needs to know what goes on in your mind."

"Even you?" Derrick asked.

Methos gazed at him thoughtfully, then smiled, "Even me… though I do appreciate whatever you do tell me. Now let's get back. Eleanor will be wondering where we are."

Derrick nodded. He stared once more at the newspaper headlines that spoke of the threat of war in parts of the world that were only names on a map to him, then climbed into the rover and slammed the door firmly.

"Anything wrong?" Methos asked as he started the engine.

"No… it's just I read the news of war in the world and wonder why?"

"Economics and power." Methos offered. "Throughout time there have been those that have and those that want. One goes to war with the other to have whatever it is they perceive the other has. Either that… or they wish to have power over the others."

Once they returned to the farm and unloaded their supplies, Methos headed for the lower field to check on the soil conditions for planting as Derrick carried the box of food staples into the house.

There was still a chill in the weather… spring was here… but it was not yet truly warm… especially in the house. Eleanor had lit the fire in the fireplace and was seated before it drying her hair.

The sprinkle of silver threads, the result of that third death in three days by Cassandra's hand so many years ago, sparkled in the firelight amidst her black hair. She ran her fingers through the long locks, untangling it as she did so.

Derrick set the box on the table and watched her. Some memory deep within him stirred… a memory of longing and unrealized love. Derrick shook his head to clear it. He did love Ellie… but not that way… but he thought that maybe the one whose memories he held might have once. Those feelings stirred in him sometimes… as now… when he saw her do something or say something that seemed eerily familiar.

Ellie glanced up at him with a smile. "Back so soon? I figured you two would be gone for hours."

Derrick shrugged, eager to break free of the odd mood hanging over him, "I think Adam wanted to see about getting some planting done."

Ellie nodded and continued drying her hair. She closed her eyes and grinned. With that slight movement… Derrick knew her thoughts were with Methos. He let out a long breath as he turned to leave.

At that moment a log rolled, or a branch sparked to life. Flames shot out from the fire and licked hungrily at Ellie's hair. She screamed in terror as she jumped to her feet.

Derrick swiftly grabbed a blanket tossed over a chair and ran towards her… tackling her to the floor and using the blanket to smother the flames that seemed to consume her.

"Eleanor!" he cried out… trying desperately to banish the nightmare vision that now consumed him. Fearfully, he pulled the blanket away from her face to see the charred remnants of her face… blisters rose and burst… her hair… a smoky ruin of brittle stalks. As he pulled the blanket further away, calling her name again and again, he could see that the burns were not as severe this time. For a single moment… Derrick wondered what that thought meant… then he relaxed and just let the old memory play out in his mind… a memory of Eleanor so burned that death took her again and again… burns so severe that she could not seem to heal.

Eleanor's mouth worked back and forth silently… as she tried to speak.

"Don't force it Eleanor… just wait. You'll heal… It's not so bad this time."

Behind him, Derrick could hear Methos' cry as he raced toward the house, evidently aware that something had happened. As yet, Derrick could not see any of the healing take place. He sat back, wiping the back of one hand across his mouth and considering what he needed to do now. He needed to help her. The old memory was screaming at him to help her… help her now!

Methos' arrival caused Derrick to glance up and move aside.

"Eleanor…" the old one murmured as he started to touch her and then hesitated… realizing that the touch of anything would be sheer pain for her until she began to heal.

"We have to help her." Derrick cried.

Methos nodded and sat back.

One of Eleanor's hands, burned and swollen grasped at Derrick's hand as if to comfort the boy. Methos swallowed… Derrick had never really seen Eleanor injured… killed by a sword… yes… but never injured. The boy likely had no idea how long this might take. Methos rose and crossed to a table… grabbing a butcher knife. Returning he positioned it over Eleanor's heart. If she died… she wouldn't be in pain… she would heal while dead…

"No… what are you doing? You'll only make it worse!" Derrick cried out and grabbed the knife away. "Don't you understand… that would take even more of her strength. She'd be worse off… not better."

Methos stared at Derrick. Then down as Eleanor's other hand found his. For a moment he felt her need to comfort them both… that all would be fine…

Methos lay one hand on Derrick's shoulder, wishing he had the words to explain what was happening… why if he didn't kill her… this might be worse for her…

Derrick's tear-filled eyes met Methos'. The boy nodded as if understanding somehow. He raised his free hand and wished there were some way to help them both… help Eleanor heal… help Methos to understand that death was not the answer… but what that was… Derrick had no idea… only that somehow he needed to help them.

Something seemed to flare between the three of them. A power and feel of quickening crackled about them for a moment… as if all three were caught within something older than all of them. When it ended… Methos gazed down at Eleanor's rapidly healing face… The blisters scabbed over and dried up, new smooth skin formed and she was as beautiful to his eyes as she had ever been… Her hair seemed to re-grow on her head… black and full with no sign of the silver that had sparkled in it in recent years… just the one hair… the one he'd first noticed centuries ago… before that first death. He reached to cup her chin in one hand… wishing to drown for a moment in those remarkable grey-green eyes.

Lightly he kissed her… his need for her suddenly greater than anything he could ever recall feeling. He glared at Derrick… "Get out! Get out now!"

The boy scrambled back in confusion… uncertain as to what was going on… nothing made sense… What had just happened? At Methos' words he turned, found his feet and ran into the courtyard… where he gulped in fresh air and stared at the overhead clouds… floating in the clear blue sky. He had never felt so alone in his life. Even the old memories were silent… as if they were gone.

Methos gathered Eleanor into his arms and carried her to their bed where he gently pulled the charred remnants of her robe from about her. He ran his hands over her… as if to re-assure himself that she was fine. Her unflawed skin seemed to glow with a power that called to him in a way he had never before felt.

Her hands reached for his neck and cupped his face… but it was not the unity that was flaring… it was something else… her eyes sparkled green and she pulled his face to hers… kissing him. Methos responded even as his hands and hers pulled at his own clothes to get them out of the way.

He needed her… he needed her more than he ever had. There was urgency to their love… it needed to be fulfilled now… before the moment passed.

The long shadows of dusk filled their room. Methos lay stretched beside her, lazily caressing Eleanor's smooth body in wonder. He felt content… and oddly fulfilled. Suddenly he pulled her small frame so that she rested on his chest covering him… and her long black hair covered them both like a thin blanket. He sighed. Beneath her hair Methos hugged her close… as if somehow they could truly merge and be one person.

Eleanor laughed… softly… like tinkling bells. "So soon again, my Lord."

He grinned… she only called him that when she was truly happy. "No… just enjoying the moment… and the feel of you." He ran his hands through her hair… the scent of honey seemed to fill the room… honey and fresh mown hay. Again he sighed.

Eleanor snuggled her face into his chest… "What happened… I don't honestly recall… I was burned… I hurt… I wanted you not to worry… and then… I just wanted you… more than I could ever recall wanting you."

Methos turned his head to glance at the fading light of day on the far side of the window… his mind on Derrick. "I don't know… but I intend to find out."

Eleanor raised up on her hands, placed to either side of him, "What is it?"

Methos gently pushed her to one side and sat up, swinging his legs to the floor. "I'll be back in few moments. Wait here." He leaned over to kiss her. "Wait here," he repeated, arching his eyebrows in a knowing smirk. Grabbing his jeans and sweater, he hastily donned them and headed outside.

On the bed… Eleanor stretched lazily… happier than she could ever remember being.