Chapter 89

Within the Dream

Methos strode through the horsemen's camp as if he were king in all but name. About him the slaves, casting their eyes downward, scurried to stay out of his way. They feared him… they feared him even more than Caspian who tortured and brutalized them. They feared him more than the wild excesses of Kronos or the force and rape that was Silas. They feared him because they said he was death… and could steal their souls if they gazed into his eyes. They believed he knew their minds and could steal their thoughts and turn them against them. He was Death… the Death that walked.

Kronos slung an arm over his shoulders and chortled, "Brother, I have a treat for you." Laughing and guiding Methos into one of the tents he practically danced in glee.

Inside the tent Methos saw a naked and struggling Cassandra lying on furs… her eyes darted about wildly as Caspian held her arms and Silas held her feet.

"We share everything, Brother… everything!" Kronos whispered. He knelt at Cassandra's side and ran his hands over her.

"Methos," she cried. "Stop him! Help me!"

Kronos grinned and arched his eyebrows at his brother. "She thinks you care about her. She thinks you'd betray us and help her. She knows nothing… does she Brother."

Methos heart lurched within him. This wasn't real! Even then… when it had been real, he had cared… and his shame at failing her had been part of the reason he'd let her go. He did care about her! He always had! But he couldn't help her. Not here! Not now! To help her would mean his death. Would she ever understand? He smirked. "Have fun, Brothers!" He leaned languidly against a tent pole and kept the smirk that was a lie firmly planted on his face.

Kronos laughed and lowered himself onto Cassandra to take his pleasure. When finished he motioned for Silas to take his turn.

Cassandra screeched and fought as the big man thrust into her with such power that he nearly destroyed her. Caspian licked her face as she screamed and Kronos held her legs. But it was Methos' smile that was the cruelest hurt.

Silas shivered in release and roared as he rose.

"I should have gone second," Caspian grumbled.

"Ah… my brother… but you ruin them so," Kronos chuckled as Caspian handed Cassandra's hands off to Silas. The third horseman took his position.

He pulled a knife and leered at Cassandra. "I've so looked forward to this. How fast do you heal?"

Cassandra screamed ever louder. "Methos!"

Methos shivered as he watched what Caspian did… taking pleasure in Cassandra's torment. He closed his eyes. No… this scene had never happened. Kronos had raped her… yes. Methos knew that… but he hadn't watched it. He'd huddled in his tent and listened to her cries. He'd watched as she'd escaped and he raised no alarm. He'd made certain in all the years that followed… that Kronos had never known that Methos could have prevented Cassandra's escape. But within this dream… he was powerless.

A silky arm slipped about him beneath his clothes. She was here… she was always here. Methos betrayed nothing. If the others knew of her… if they saw her… they'd rape her too… and he could not bear the thought. He'd tear them limb from limb if they touched her.

He did not dare raise his hands to muffle the sounds of Cassandra's screams. He did not dare to be seen as anything other than smirking Death.

"Who is that behind you?" Kronos suddenly asked. "Remember, Brother… we share everything."

"Your eyes betray you, Brother. There is no one behind me." Methos straightened and adjusted his cloak, hoping they would not know she was there.

Caspian cackled and raised his bloody knife, licking it. "Your turn Brother."

"Your leavings… I think not," Methos said darkly and turned to withdraw.

Kronos grasped his arm.

Methos reminded himself that this was not real… it couldn't be real.

"We share everything. If you do not join us… then you deny our brotherhood." The menace in Kronos' eyes worried Methos. It had always worried him. He would have to play the part or they would know who he truly was.

He faced Cassandra's battered form solemnly, aware that she lived… aware that she was helpless. She moaned as he came closer and knelt between her legs.

He focused instead on the woman sliding along his skin beneath his clothes. He lowered himself onto Cassandra and knew the other was between them. It was her he would love… it was her he would be with… physically and mentally. His mind focused on her… his beloved … his wife… his Eleanor.

I am here my dearest. I will never leave you… nor close my heart to you for as long as you wish me with you.

Methos smiled and focused on her. His mouth eagerly found hers and his hands slipped through her long dark hair and onto her neck. He was hers and she was his… and this dream became his reality… while the other faded away… until it was nothing… only shadows that occupied the darkest corner in his mind. This scene had never happened… it was a twisted memory born of fear and self-hatred. This was what Cassandra recalled… this was her nightmare… not his. He rolled away with Eleanor in his arms.

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Watcher Compound

"We're losing him… they're separating."

"Increase the dosage!"

"I can't! We're at maximum now! Any more will kill them both. He's still too strong … we can't control him."

Rawlins stormed about the lab area and shoved personnel and equipment. "He was there… he was in her dream… we had him! What happened?"

Wilderman pulled off his spectacles and rubbed one hand on his balding head. "Mr. Rawlins… it's as I tried to explain. We're not ready yet for this. They are too old and too powerful. We still need some that fall between their ages and the age of those we have. We have to slowly work up to this."

Rawlins seethed.

"Doctor," Claire Romney's voice sounded from the control console. You have to see this."

Wilderman and Rawlins both crossed to the monitors.

Number 12's scan was calm as if she slept peacefully, while number 47's double line arced up and down as if the two were of one mind. Then it reached a peak and subsided. But this time… the second line did not fade… but mirrored number 47's primary thought line as it fell to a resting point indicating deep sleep.

"We have him!" Rawlins exclaimed gleefully. "We have the dream partner trapped! He'll be easy to find now."

"You're so certain it's a male?"

Rawlins nodded. "The double quickening must have joined them somehow. They share one another's dreams… even if they are unaware of them. Keep him at this level. With the partner trapped with him in the dream… we should have no problem finding him and bringing him in."

Rawlins pivoted and slapped his hands together gleefully. "I'll be upstairs."

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Within the Dream

Cassandra sank into the green depths of the ocean. The water seemed warm somehow… as if kissed by the sun even at great depths… or by warm currents from some underwater thermal. She floated about in the green depths… her hair tangling about her.

Firm but gentle hands caught her as she descended and slowly pulled her heavenward until she rested on the lolling surface of the ocean… bathed in warm salt spray that sparkled merrily in the sunlight.

Rest Child, and heal, came the voice of the Ancient One that Cassandra had once known as Lilith. It was only a nightmare born of pain and was not real. They are all dead, and cannot hurt you ever again.

He lives, Cassandra thought back at the voice. He stood by and did nothing.

Methos is not your concern, Child, he never was, the voice soothed in the lilting tones of the waves as they crashed about her. The boy was mine! He was always mine! And I have claimed him!

He must pay! Cassandra screamed silently. He must pay!

He has always paid, Child. For three thousand years he has paid the price for not defending you. In every thing he has done since that day… in every woman he has loved and failed… he has paid the price. In every friend he has failed to protect… in every lie told… and every evasion of truth… he has paid… and is paying still. As long as he lives… he will pay in his guilt and shame at his actions that day. That is his punishment… and his torment… to know he stood by and did nothing. Do not begrudge him what little happiness he has. You are a part of his soul… as he is a part of yours. We are One, Child… we have always been One.

Cassandra drifted quietly in the arms of the Ocean… beneath a Sky that was a calm and dreamy blue. In the distance… she knew was the tormented land… heaving in the fires of destruction. But for here and for now… she was at peace. For the first time in three thousand years… she was at peace.

-----

Methos stretched in their bed and watched the dappled pattern of morning light move across the bedclothes covering them. Eleanor lay curled at his side, one hand tracing the old patterns across his bare chest. He hugged her to him. Some part of him knew that she wasn't really here… that they were not here… but it didn't matter. The dream was real… and in the dream they were at last together.

She laughed. "A brass farthing for your thoughts!"

"A brass farthing? A brass farthing is worthless! Is that all my thoughts mean to you?" He kissed the tip of her nose, aware that she was teasing him.

She shifted in his arms and nestled against him. "I like it here. I don't ever want to leave."

"And I don't want you to go," he replied. He ran his hands lightly over her bare skin, tracing the patterns wherever he touched. They flamed in his mind like shifting pages of manuscript on the computer. He paused.

"That's it," he whispered to her. "That's what the pages are. In the right order… they make the patterns! They're not just for us… they're for all of us!"

"We are all One?" she asked. "Even with our enemies?"

Methos nodded. "That has to be it. We have to get the word out. We have to stop the slaughter before it's too late!"

Eleanor rose on her arms. "How?"

Methos ran one hand through her dark hair, noting the single stand of purest silver. "I don't know. To tell them… you'd have to go."

"You want me to leave?"

"No…" he said sadly and kissed her, pulling her onto him and feeling her settle comfortably and begin to move. "I want you to stay with me forever."

-----

Later… he held her in the crook of his arm and gazed down at her, letting one hand trace over her face and neck. "Never leave me," he begged. "I need you. I've been so lonely here without you."

Eleanor reached up and brushed his dark hair from his eyes. She smiled. "Then I will stay." Her fingers trailed over his neck. And in that moment… the unity held them and time stood still.