Village-Mystic, Lady Cinnibar, thank you very much for your kind feedbacks! Lady Cinnibar: I feel honoured.

(There will be only one more chapter to this story; maybe I will write a sequel later)

Evening, Methos's flat

Methos and the boy sat in front of the TV and watched a Disney film, Methos had bought, after they had spent the whole afternoon together. They had visited the Paris Zoo, where Methos had bought the boy a toy, which looked like a tiger, and then had gone to McDonalds for supper. Whole time, the boy had smiled happily while he pressed the tiger to his body and never let it go.

It seemed to Methos that the child was finally opening up to him. Both had made progress in their relationship during the past day; he had even gotten the boy's name, it was Dennis, out of the child. Although the boy hadn't spoken more than that, Methos had seen a smile appear on the boy's face several times during the day. And the child seemed to trust him. Methos was sure that they were on the right path, time and love would heal the child's mental wounds.

The boy still held his tiger pressed to his chest and was curled up in Methos's easy chair, when suddenly the phone rang. Methos got up and went to answer; on the other end was O'Brien's familiar voice.

"Adam? It's me, O'Brien," Methos heard him say. "I thought about the things you said to me yesterday, and also looked up some chronicles…You are right, not all Immortals are evil, there are also a lot of good ones… We made a terrible mistake… I made a terrible mistake. I had no right to kill any Immortal, I know that now."

Methos noticed the sound of a deep sigh at the other end of the line.

"I'm convinced that we have to stop the killing, it's wrong," O'Brien continued with a serious voice. "I'm on my way to talk with Horton, I will persuade him that we were wrong."

"No," Methos shouted surprised and shocked at the same time. "You cannot talk with Hort…"

"Please," O'Brien interrupted him friendly but very determined. "I've known James for several years now, he is a good and honourable man, he will listen to me. I'm sure that he will see the things the way I see them as soon as I explain the truth to him."

"But," Methos once again tried to reason with him.

"Please, Adam, I made my decision already. I'm not a man who denies his mistakes; I made one and I'm going to correct it…I promised to keep your secret, Adam, and I will. Trust me, everything will be fine. Horton is an intelligent man, he will listen." Without giving Methos another chance to say anything, he continued, "I have to go now but I promise to call you as soon as I get back."

"No, Horton will kill you," Methos screamed into the receiver, but O'Brien had already hung up. Methos looked aghast at the receiver in his hand. "Damn, damn, damn," he angrily shouted, "stupid fool." Methos had studied Horton during the past weeks very closely, and had come to the conclusion that this man was a real fanatic, a lunatic who would kill anyone who got into his way, Immortal or not, a man who was not to be reasoned with, a heartless killer. O'Brien was running to his own death.

Damn boy scouts, Methos thought angrily while he slammed the receiver down. He looked at the boy who was laughing at something happening on the TV, and then back at the phone in front of him. No, not his fault if the fool got himself killed. O'Brien was old enough to take care of himself…And had HE talked O'Brien into speaking with Horton? No, definitely not…But…no, nothing 'but', he tried to persuade himself, this had not been his idea. If the other man got himself killed, O'Brien's problem not his.

Methos continued to stare at the phone and heard again the laughter of the boy. Damn, he finally thought, I cannot let him run to his own ruin... Why do I always care? I'm a stupid fool myself, he angrily damned himself while he grabbed his coat and weapons and hurried to the door. Before he reached it, he turned again and shouted at the boy, "I want you to go to bed when the film is over." Then he raced to Horton's house as fast as he could manage, praying silently that he would arrive in time.