Chapter 117

Paris, the next day

Duncan tapped lightly on Joe's hospital room door. Inside he saw Amy, Joe's daughter… and a squirming little girl of about three years of age.

A doctor stood at the foot of Joe's bed, clipboard in hand. "… and if you continue to respond to treatment… I think maybe we can let you go in about a week."

"That's great… Hey Doc can you pull some strings and have my grandson moved into my room?" He looked up at Mac's knock. "Mac… Amanda!" His toothy grin said it all.

"I don't want to interrupt," Duncan began.

Joe waved him in. "Nonsense… you two are family."

Amanda held out the bouquet of flowers and leaned down to kiss him. "And don't forget it."

"Never!" he laughed.

She straightened and said something about getting some water for the flowers.

The little girl squirmed off her mother's lap. "Are you Grandpa's friends?" she asked.

Duncan nodded. "Very good friends."

"Mac… this is Abigail. Her brother is downstairs."

Duncan pulled up a chair. "Burt filled me in. He got off on the third floor to visit Dawson Meyers." He grinned, winking at Joe.

"In that case," Amy said rising and kissing Joe. "Abby and I are going downstairs. Don't let him up, Mr. MacLeod… no matter what he says." She clasped one of Abigail's hands. The mother and daughter walked out.

"Cute!" said Duncan. "Who's she named for?"

"Amy's grandmother… Laura's mother."

"I'm sorry about Laura."

"Yeah… me too. But none of this was your fault Mac."

"No… it wasn't." For a moment a dark shadow passed over MacLeod's face. "We immortals have our own cross to bear Joe… and our own battles and destinies. I once told Horton that. He tried to interfere in and change the game… and this Rawlins did too. Thankfully… they are both dead… while we yet remain. Now… we need to find a way to forge a future for all immortals… one that doesn't include racial suicide."

"Yeah," Joe said blanching slightly. "And we Watchers need to learn to keep our mitts off unless invited. Maybe the answers lie somewhere in between where and what we were… and where we are now."

Duncan nodded. "I have something for you." The Highlander pulled a small card out of his pocket and handed it to Joe who looked at it quizzically. "When you get to feeling better, Ellie says to put a Chicago area code in front of that series of numbers and call her. She says you owe her a tour of the city."

Joe smiled. "They're all right then?"

Duncan nodded. "Methos is still a little worse for wear and tear and Ellie won't leave his side… but I think they're fine."

"I heard there were some losses."

"While some awoke and were physically fine… they are understandably upset and confused. I think Cassandra may have finally found her calling. She's going to work with some of them in counseling sessions. She seems to have finally moved beyond her anger. Several immortals were beheaded in several locations around the globe. We may never know all of those who were lost… their quickenings wasted by mortals. But the worst repercussion is that some of the immortals we found in Switzerland, while still alive, were evidently drained of their quickening somehow. It was transferred into the men we fought. Those mortal men took on characteristics… without really being immortal. And when they died… no quickening was released. The immortals they drained still live, but I fear their quickenings may also have been lost. They exist in waking comas. Grace thinks they may yet wake up… given time. That doctor doesn't seem to understand what's happened. Burt's got him in a cell… but he isn't making a lot of sense. His assistant… evidently the only other scientist who truly understood what they were doing is dead."

"What'll happen to them? Duncan if there is anything we can do…"

"We take care of our own for the moment, Joe. I don't think any of them would want to be in Watcher hands any longer. Phillip made arrangements for them to be taken to Niebos. Grace and John are accompanying them. No heads will be taken… not now at least. We have to give them the opportunity to come back… and see what happens."

"Phillip? Niebos?" Joe looked at him with a thousand questions already crowding his mind.

"The Swordmaster. He's even allowing a limited Watcher presence on the island."

"The Swordmaster? Of Alexander the Great? Damn… we thought he was dead. Ellie mentioned having known him centuries ago… but I had no idea he was still alive."

"No? Well he is. By the way…" Duncan grinned. "She suggested that I ask you about some chronicle you wrote. She said maybe you'd let me read it."

Joe laughed and reached for Ellie's chronicle. "Be my guest. If she said it was okay… then it's okay."

"What's okay?" Amanda asked as she re-entered. She'd filched a vase from the nurses' station and arranged the flowers in it. Setting it on the bedside table she positioned it and stood back to see if it looked all right.

Duncan reached up and pulled her into his lap. "By the way… have I told you how much I love you?"

"Oooh… you mean in the last hour?" Amanda kicked up her heels. "Let's see…" Anything else she might have said was lost in their passionate and teasing kiss.

Joe took a deep labored breath and smiled. It was good to have friends… and family.

The Grove

"Come along now," Derrick said as he led Alisaunne across the running water of the sewer below the street. They'd accompanied Methos and Ellie back to the grove. The couple wanted to get to know her a little, but the girl was so despondent… that Derrick's fading memories of Darius had flared momentarily and he'd seized on them to find something he hoped would help her.

"Let me talk to her," he'd told the couple and led Alisaunne into the sewer. Once they reached the cavern, he handed her Ellie's small Maglite and with a practiced stroke… he fired up the small generator. The small white lights flickered and then glowed brightly, illuminating the cavern and the strange writing on the walls.

Alisaunne gasped. "I know this. I wrote it… in the early days." One hand raised tentatively to caress a symbol. Her brow knotted in confusion. She raised her other hand to her head and blinked.

Derrick nodded to himself. He knew that feeling. Darius had felt it for years. Derrick also had experienced it, that feeling of remembering things and then wondering where they came from.

"I've never been here before," Alisaunne said as she turned to face him. "Have I?"

Derrick shrugged. "I don't think so. Not really. I doubt you saw anything when Ellie led you through here before." He smiled when Alisaunne shook her head. "I don't really know what happened, Alisaunne. I shouldn't have remembered anything until I was grown… and now… it's all fading… except a few memories of Darius with Ellie or with Methos or Phillip… or with you.

"He always wanted to know what the writing said, but the Ancient's memories withheld the answers from him… and only teased him with the knowledge that there was an answer. His journal and the artifacts only confirmed Darius' belief that something was here that he… or that the Ancient Immortal felt was important. You have the Ancient's quickening and memories. I don't. You were always meant to have it once you became immortal… but Darius died before he could tell anyone about you. And then Nestor happened to you. He was desperate that you not be lost. He believed you were important."

"How?"

Derrick shook his head. "Something to do with your birth… and the re-united power of the three Ancients… long separated by their crimes and mistrust… and lost without one another. I don't know… maybe the answers are here." He gestured toward the walls of the cavern.

Alisaunne stared at the walls and nodded. "It's here. It's all here. I just have to remember it."

Derrick smiled as he left her to her studies, and retreated back through the tunnel to climb the slope to the grove. He chuckled to see Methos stretched on a blanket on the grass near the spring and sipping water from Ellie's cupped hands. The ancient pulled her into his lap and showered her with kisses while she squealed.

The boy picked up the duffel bag containing among other things, the computer, the great sword and the crystal, and slung it over one shoulder. Slowly he approached.

Ellie looked up at him soberly. "So… you really are leaving."

"You always said I would."

Ellie rose and clasped his hand. She stood on tiptoe and kissed him lightly. "Be careful out there in the world."

Derrick shrugged. "I will be. But I don't belong here… and I'm old enough now to make my own way."

"We won't be staying here either," Methos added as he stood. Thin, dark fuzz was beginning to appear on his scalp. He lay his hands on Ellie's shoulders and she raised one hand to clasp one of his. Their fingers laced together.

Derrick nodded. "I want to see the world. I want to see what's really out there."

"What will you do?" Methos asked.

"I may take work aboard a merchant ship… sail the ocean… visit new lands."

"If something happens…" Ellie bit her lip.

Derrick shrugged. "By knowing the things I know… I might only have this one life. I need to live it. I need to concentrate on living each day as it happens… and not live in the fear or the anticipation of something else. But if something does happen…" He leaned down and kissed her cheek. "I'll be in touch. But if I grow old and die… I will die knowing that I have truly lived a single life… and… that I have known love."

The young man shifted the duffel and crossed to the iron gate. He unlocked it and handed Ellie the key with a wink. Then he passed out of the grove… and into the waiting world.