Chapter 15
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Rogue sighed as she plopped her duffel bag onto the bed. It was a really nice room; one of the nicest she had ever seen. There was a beautiful painting of some Grecian ruins on the wall, a little statuette of Cupid and Psyche on the night table. As she sat on the bed, there was a soft knock on the door.
It was Bobby.
Silent, he entered and sat on the bed next to her. "So."
"Yeah."
Neither teenager knew what to say. People who lived forever, unless their heads were cut off. Yet they could die...for a while. Are they some kind of mutant, they had asked the Professor, but he had said no. They are a completely different species. One of them had helped Stryker. And yet Professor Xavier trusted them! It was just surreal.
Just then, the two kids heard thumping footsteps and Piotr passed the half-open door on the way to his room. They didn't stop him, however, sure that he needed sleep. .............................................................................
Nadya tossed and turned a little in the bed, her brows knit together. Her dreams had taken a darker turn. She saw Hayden standing over Methos' body, the ancient's Ivanhoe in his hand. He was smiling...that smile.
"You're mine, pretty."
Then he reached down and grasped something, lifting it. "Care to give him one last kiss good-bye, Nadya?"
Methos' head!
She woke, screaming. Her voice was hot and painful in her throat. She felt hands grasp her arms and began to try to fight them off. Too strong!
"Nadya! Nadya, stop! It was a dream." That voice. Duncan!
He finally met her eyes. "It was a dream, bairne."
Next were the tears, not words. She just pressed against his sweater and cried.
Duncan finally quieted Nadya down and then settled down to sleep again himself.
A few moments later, convinced that both her friends were sleeping again, Talia pushed herself off of the wall next to the doorway, heading downstairs. Nadya's screams had woken her up and though she wanted to give comfort, she felt her friend needed rest more so at the moment. And, to tell the truth, she was in no emotional condition to provide the comfort the girl needed. Blood was wanting to boil, now that her body had replenished the lost blood to allow it to do so.
"...came into my home. Hurt my guests. Kidnapped my friends." Her wanderings about the halls of the villa lead her to where Methos sat fighting off sleep.
"I want him dead," her fellow immortal said, guessing her mood to match his own. The silence confirmed it.
"Who was it?" she asked.
A chuckle. Bitter and dry. "Another repercussion from my past come back to haunt us all."
"Really?" She did not believe him.
"Look, I am tired of...of making amends for my mistakes.....of dealing with everyone trying to make me feel guilt....of people thinking I should assuage my conscience to conform to some ridiculous idea of what is good and right." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Well, you will only have to deal with the most of that for the next hundred years. Not to long for us-for you-to suffer the ideologies of children, I should think."
Methos stopped his diatribe and looked at her. "Sorry?"
"They will all be dead in one hundred years...or sooner.....probably sooner. Then all they know about you will die. And MacLeod will be one hundred years wiser, time will deaden his sense of....purpose. His feelings of judgment towards you." She sat next to him, leaning back in the lounge chair.
Methos had an incredulous look on his face. "So you are saying, what ..that I should humor them? Play the penitent..."
"No...you cannot fake sorrow for your actions. Do you feel sorrow? Don't over-analyze it. For the fact that you hurt those children, regardless if you thought the ends would justify the means, and regardless to whether or not you would do it again if the opportunity arose?" She smiled.
He smirked. "Yes. I do suppose I feel pain...that I hurt them. And that I had hurt Nadya, and made MacLeod look at me like when he found out the atrocities I did as a Horseman. And you?"
"I like children. I like them alive and happy and innocent. Someone deserves to be innocent for a while, if not forever. But I realize that, in a different time and place, that was the way of the world. The way of survival. What you did is only more atrocious because you could do it longer than the rest. Better than the rest. I have read the books, seen the histories of the world, its atrocities. If nothing else, it makes you more human, as does your ability to change."
Methos looked at her. "So what about right and wrong, shall they be chucked out the window again?"
"Sometimes the wrong is the necessity. And, as for what is right, there is no person on this earth to judge you for what you did."
"You could," he said softly.
"Then I would judge myself guilty as well."
Methos started. She sounded like him! "Have you been talking to MacLeod about this??"
"No."
"Are you positive?"
"You need a beer," she said.
He nodded. Then he left.
Talia smiled to herself and looked up to gaze at the stars. She heard the person hiding in the shadows shift their weight to their other foot.
"Logan." she whispered, knowing he would hear her. He walked over to where she sat. She looked up at him, reading the expression on his face.
"You will never understand, no matter how hard you try to....even if you bother with that much."
"You feel it is acceptable, what he did....and...whatever else you were talking about, which sounds a lot worse than that."
"Actually, I feel old." She stood and shivered slightly as a cool breeze blew over the hillside.
Logan stepped closer, shielding her from the wind, watching as it whipped her hair about slightly. "Old, huh? Well, you look rather good for an old woman."
"Emotionally, Logan." She wrapped her arms around herself.
Logan reached over and scooped up one of the throws lying about. He placed it around her shoulders; as she barely noted the gesture, he bent over and kissed her softly, barely touching, like her earlier touch on his face. He looked at her as he pulled back a bit.
"Surprise. You're still standing." she said.
He grunted, a growl almost.
The next kiss lasted longer.
...............................................................................................................................................................................
Methos took another sip of his beer. Then he wandered off to find a new spot to try to stay awake at. Perhaps the garden would still be unoccupied.
"I have you, at least. You'll never leave me, will you? Well, so long at there isn't another abolition movement." The old man and his beer went in search of solitude.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rogue had woken early and gone to check on Ororo who was sleeping peacefully. She then went in search of the kitchen, she had been in a bit of shock the night before when the guy called Joe had escorted them there, and was in the process of trying to find it when she heard Logan's light snoring. She couldn't see him in the room, but then she saw the balcony.
Bobby woke up and found the kitchen all right. However, he found Rogue to be in a quiet withdrawn mood. He offered her a smile and then went about fixing himself some breakfast, assuming she was still trying to wrap her mind around what they had learned last night.
In a way she was, but more so from this morning.
..................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Logan's brows knit together with not wanting to wake, and his hand slid out to where Talia should have been next to him. Her place was cold. Now his eyes were open. The throw rug fell off his form as he sat up on the enlarged fainting couch, glancing around. She was sitting on the terrace railing, looking out towards the horizon.
It was her private moment spent with the sun each day, watching it rise.
"Are you always up this early?" he asked, still sitting on the couch.
She didn't answer.
He hated that silence. The morning after.
"Talia?"
She finally turned her head to look at him, the rising sun giving her a sort of halo.
Logan groaned and waited for the normal 'morning after talk'. That was a mistake. Let's not make a big deal out of it. It was a dumb thing to do.
'Blast it, nothing even happened!' he growled inwardly.
But it didn't come. She just gave that almost-invisible smile for a moment and then it fell. "Rogue loves you, you know that?"
OK, this was new!
"What?" Logan stood and moved over to her, his brow furrowed in surprise.
"She saw us, early this morning. I heard her footsteps." Talia felt a funny chuckle escape her throat; part of her couldn't believe she had kissed the Wolverine.
"Oh." Logan sat down next to her, thinking for a while. "She's with Bobby; she'll forget eventually."
Talia chuckled again and shook her head, leaning forward and resting her chin on his shoulder to look up at him. "How little you know; she won't forget. Oh, she'll get past it but she won't forget. She carries a part of you in her always...literally."
Logan smiled slightly, looking down at her. "Says the woman who's been intimately acquainted with my claws."
Talia chuckled. "Ooooo, big words out of the Wolverine."
Logan half-smiled again, leaning down. "Shut up, Talia."
............................................................................................................................................................................................................
Methos had finally fallen asleep, the empty beer bottle falling from his hand to nestle on the deep grass of the smaller garden. He was sprawled on one of the boulder-benches, the sun warming it pleasantly now as the sun rose higher and higher.
However, when he woke up, he found that he wasn't alone. Nadya's head rested on his chest, her arm around his waist and a blanket over them both.
She'd woken time after time that night, afraid. Finally, she'd crept out of her room, careful not to wake Duncan. Pulling the blanket with her, she'd found Methos and lain down on the bench with him. Now she felt safe, as long as he was there.
"What are you doing here?" he whispered at the top of her head. She didn't move.
Duncan, of course, was in an uproar at finding Nadya gone. But he soon decided that she was fine; he could still feel her close by. The tickling sensation of a pre-immortal still pressed against his own Quickening.
He still didn't know all of what had happened, hadn't had time to talk to Methos.
What was that?
Backtracking two steps, Duncan peeked onto the terrace and then quickly moved on, a smirking smile on his face.
'To tease or not to tease? No. I like my smaller intestine.' he decided wisely.
.....................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Charles was sitting in his chair by Ororo's bedside when she awoke.
"Professor," came her weak voice.
"Welcome back." Xavier smiled with relief as she came to. She seemed to draw some comfort from his presence but then remembered why she was in her current predicament. Worry multiplied
"Piotr. What ha..."
"It's alright. Everyone is alive, and back in one piece." 'At least physically,' he added silently.
She nodded, feeling too tired to talk.
"Could you drink something?" They both turned to the new voice from the doorway. Duncan stood there. Again, she nodded this time will a smile.
"I'll go get you some juice. Professor Xavier, as soon as we can collect everyone...."
"We can work through this anytime, Mr. MacLeod. There is not rush." Duncan smiled then left to get the juice.
"You get as much rest as you can." Charles patted her hand, then wheeled himself from the room.
.........................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Piotr pulled himself out of bed finally. He had lain there along time. Thinking about everything. He now had a headache. He passed Rogue in the library area, on his way to the kitchen. She seemed morose but his own mood would not be of much help for that. He had only one thing on his mind at the moment, weighing it down with anticipation and dread. How could such a small woman evoke such a huge feeling?
...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Charles heard the sounds of soft conversation as he powered down the hallway. He caught sight of two figures seated on the stone railing of the balcony. He also felt the strong emotions radiating from them.
Logan had apparently heard him slow because he stopped his quiet conversation with the dark-haired lady, Talia.
"You need something, Chuck?" He turned his head to the side slightly, catching Xavier in the corner if his vision.
"Later we will get everyone together to discuss everything from the past few days..."
"Why tell me?"
"Actually he was informing me...." Talia said.
Logan looked at her.
"...of that and several character flaws of yours."
Logan jerked his head back to the Professor as she said that, anger on his face. Then he heard Talia laughing and Xavier's own smile fighting to come out. He frowned and said, "Funny."
Talia smiled at him and then placed a kiss on the frown. It quickly faded, along with the sound of the motorized wheelchair continuing down the hall.
......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Methos finally got Nadya to wake. Long after his leg had gone numb.
'Yes, for you I feel regret.'
"Methos...."
"You do not have to. If you want to, that's ok...but take your time. I am here if you need it." He simply offered.
...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
"Are you OK?" Bobby asked, setting his mug down. Rogue had not said a word all through breakfast; it wasn't like her to be so quiet.
Rogue glanced up at him. "Yeah. I'm fine," she said quickly, turning to the remainder of her coffee, wrapping her hands around the mug.
Bobby didn't believe her, of course, but he didn't press her; Rogue didn't like to be pressed.
...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
She'd finally sat up. Finally, he could move his leg. Methos sighed as he sat up on the bench. The sun was high and he tossed the blanket aside and massaged his leg, trying to get that annoying prickling numbness to go away.
"I think I'm going to leave, Methos."
He spun around and stared at her. "What?"
"I'm going to go home to Seacouver." Nadya turned to face him. "I shouldn't be here."
"What are you talking about?!"
"I'm a liability. I'm tired of people getting hurt because of me; I'm tired of being a trap for my friends." There was a sad resignation to her voice as she got up and stepped through the cool grass a bit, her arms wrapped around herself.
Methos felt as though someone had slapped him in the face and it stung more than Hayden's whip.
"Nadya...this isn't your fault. Hayden came after me…"
"But he used me to make you suffer!" she exclaimed, turning about on him. Then her voice softened a bit. "If I'm not here, at least he can't use me to hurt you. Maybe then he'll face you like a man."
Methos didn't go to her, just sat where he was. "And if...and if I lose? He'll find you wherever you go, Nadya. You're part of this for him; in order to truly hurt and destroy me, he must hurt you."
He said as much as he dared without revealing her own secret to her; MacLeod would kill him if he told her. He tried another approach.
"And Piotr? Would you just leave him hanging?"
Nadya turned to Methos, her eyes plainly calling 'foul' but she tried to disguise it. "What does he...?"
Methos had been alive too long to not be able to read the slightest snatches of facial features. "He has everything to do with this, Nadya. I saw you; you care for him, I know."
Nadya bit her lower lip and simply turned away again, a 'tell' that he had hit a nerve.
"Please."
It was the "please" that forever caught her memory. She turned around again.
"Please, don't leave. I...I need you here." Methos always thought he would choke on those words but, remarkably, he didn't.
Nadya sighed, moving back towards him again and sitting on the bench. Looping her arms through Methos', she laid her head on his shoulder.
Nothing more was said.
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
Rogue sighed as she plopped her duffel bag onto the bed. It was a really nice room; one of the nicest she had ever seen. There was a beautiful painting of some Grecian ruins on the wall, a little statuette of Cupid and Psyche on the night table. As she sat on the bed, there was a soft knock on the door.
It was Bobby.
Silent, he entered and sat on the bed next to her. "So."
"Yeah."
Neither teenager knew what to say. People who lived forever, unless their heads were cut off. Yet they could die...for a while. Are they some kind of mutant, they had asked the Professor, but he had said no. They are a completely different species. One of them had helped Stryker. And yet Professor Xavier trusted them! It was just surreal.
Just then, the two kids heard thumping footsteps and Piotr passed the half-open door on the way to his room. They didn't stop him, however, sure that he needed sleep. .............................................................................
Nadya tossed and turned a little in the bed, her brows knit together. Her dreams had taken a darker turn. She saw Hayden standing over Methos' body, the ancient's Ivanhoe in his hand. He was smiling...that smile.
"You're mine, pretty."
Then he reached down and grasped something, lifting it. "Care to give him one last kiss good-bye, Nadya?"
Methos' head!
She woke, screaming. Her voice was hot and painful in her throat. She felt hands grasp her arms and began to try to fight them off. Too strong!
"Nadya! Nadya, stop! It was a dream." That voice. Duncan!
He finally met her eyes. "It was a dream, bairne."
Next were the tears, not words. She just pressed against his sweater and cried.
Duncan finally quieted Nadya down and then settled down to sleep again himself.
A few moments later, convinced that both her friends were sleeping again, Talia pushed herself off of the wall next to the doorway, heading downstairs. Nadya's screams had woken her up and though she wanted to give comfort, she felt her friend needed rest more so at the moment. And, to tell the truth, she was in no emotional condition to provide the comfort the girl needed. Blood was wanting to boil, now that her body had replenished the lost blood to allow it to do so.
"...came into my home. Hurt my guests. Kidnapped my friends." Her wanderings about the halls of the villa lead her to where Methos sat fighting off sleep.
"I want him dead," her fellow immortal said, guessing her mood to match his own. The silence confirmed it.
"Who was it?" she asked.
A chuckle. Bitter and dry. "Another repercussion from my past come back to haunt us all."
"Really?" She did not believe him.
"Look, I am tired of...of making amends for my mistakes.....of dealing with everyone trying to make me feel guilt....of people thinking I should assuage my conscience to conform to some ridiculous idea of what is good and right." He ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
"Well, you will only have to deal with the most of that for the next hundred years. Not to long for us-for you-to suffer the ideologies of children, I should think."
Methos stopped his diatribe and looked at her. "Sorry?"
"They will all be dead in one hundred years...or sooner.....probably sooner. Then all they know about you will die. And MacLeod will be one hundred years wiser, time will deaden his sense of....purpose. His feelings of judgment towards you." She sat next to him, leaning back in the lounge chair.
Methos had an incredulous look on his face. "So you are saying, what ..that I should humor them? Play the penitent..."
"No...you cannot fake sorrow for your actions. Do you feel sorrow? Don't over-analyze it. For the fact that you hurt those children, regardless if you thought the ends would justify the means, and regardless to whether or not you would do it again if the opportunity arose?" She smiled.
He smirked. "Yes. I do suppose I feel pain...that I hurt them. And that I had hurt Nadya, and made MacLeod look at me like when he found out the atrocities I did as a Horseman. And you?"
"I like children. I like them alive and happy and innocent. Someone deserves to be innocent for a while, if not forever. But I realize that, in a different time and place, that was the way of the world. The way of survival. What you did is only more atrocious because you could do it longer than the rest. Better than the rest. I have read the books, seen the histories of the world, its atrocities. If nothing else, it makes you more human, as does your ability to change."
Methos looked at her. "So what about right and wrong, shall they be chucked out the window again?"
"Sometimes the wrong is the necessity. And, as for what is right, there is no person on this earth to judge you for what you did."
"You could," he said softly.
"Then I would judge myself guilty as well."
Methos started. She sounded like him! "Have you been talking to MacLeod about this??"
"No."
"Are you positive?"
"You need a beer," she said.
He nodded. Then he left.
Talia smiled to herself and looked up to gaze at the stars. She heard the person hiding in the shadows shift their weight to their other foot.
"Logan." she whispered, knowing he would hear her. He walked over to where she sat. She looked up at him, reading the expression on his face.
"You will never understand, no matter how hard you try to....even if you bother with that much."
"You feel it is acceptable, what he did....and...whatever else you were talking about, which sounds a lot worse than that."
"Actually, I feel old." She stood and shivered slightly as a cool breeze blew over the hillside.
Logan stepped closer, shielding her from the wind, watching as it whipped her hair about slightly. "Old, huh? Well, you look rather good for an old woman."
"Emotionally, Logan." She wrapped her arms around herself.
Logan reached over and scooped up one of the throws lying about. He placed it around her shoulders; as she barely noted the gesture, he bent over and kissed her softly, barely touching, like her earlier touch on his face. He looked at her as he pulled back a bit.
"Surprise. You're still standing." she said.
He grunted, a growl almost.
The next kiss lasted longer.
...............................................................................................................................................................................
Methos took another sip of his beer. Then he wandered off to find a new spot to try to stay awake at. Perhaps the garden would still be unoccupied.
"I have you, at least. You'll never leave me, will you? Well, so long at there isn't another abolition movement." The old man and his beer went in search of solitude.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rogue had woken early and gone to check on Ororo who was sleeping peacefully. She then went in search of the kitchen, she had been in a bit of shock the night before when the guy called Joe had escorted them there, and was in the process of trying to find it when she heard Logan's light snoring. She couldn't see him in the room, but then she saw the balcony.
Bobby woke up and found the kitchen all right. However, he found Rogue to be in a quiet withdrawn mood. He offered her a smile and then went about fixing himself some breakfast, assuming she was still trying to wrap her mind around what they had learned last night.
In a way she was, but more so from this morning.
..................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Logan's brows knit together with not wanting to wake, and his hand slid out to where Talia should have been next to him. Her place was cold. Now his eyes were open. The throw rug fell off his form as he sat up on the enlarged fainting couch, glancing around. She was sitting on the terrace railing, looking out towards the horizon.
It was her private moment spent with the sun each day, watching it rise.
"Are you always up this early?" he asked, still sitting on the couch.
She didn't answer.
He hated that silence. The morning after.
"Talia?"
She finally turned her head to look at him, the rising sun giving her a sort of halo.
Logan groaned and waited for the normal 'morning after talk'. That was a mistake. Let's not make a big deal out of it. It was a dumb thing to do.
'Blast it, nothing even happened!' he growled inwardly.
But it didn't come. She just gave that almost-invisible smile for a moment and then it fell. "Rogue loves you, you know that?"
OK, this was new!
"What?" Logan stood and moved over to her, his brow furrowed in surprise.
"She saw us, early this morning. I heard her footsteps." Talia felt a funny chuckle escape her throat; part of her couldn't believe she had kissed the Wolverine.
"Oh." Logan sat down next to her, thinking for a while. "She's with Bobby; she'll forget eventually."
Talia chuckled again and shook her head, leaning forward and resting her chin on his shoulder to look up at him. "How little you know; she won't forget. Oh, she'll get past it but she won't forget. She carries a part of you in her always...literally."
Logan smiled slightly, looking down at her. "Says the woman who's been intimately acquainted with my claws."
Talia chuckled. "Ooooo, big words out of the Wolverine."
Logan half-smiled again, leaning down. "Shut up, Talia."
............................................................................................................................................................................................................
Methos had finally fallen asleep, the empty beer bottle falling from his hand to nestle on the deep grass of the smaller garden. He was sprawled on one of the boulder-benches, the sun warming it pleasantly now as the sun rose higher and higher.
However, when he woke up, he found that he wasn't alone. Nadya's head rested on his chest, her arm around his waist and a blanket over them both.
She'd woken time after time that night, afraid. Finally, she'd crept out of her room, careful not to wake Duncan. Pulling the blanket with her, she'd found Methos and lain down on the bench with him. Now she felt safe, as long as he was there.
"What are you doing here?" he whispered at the top of her head. She didn't move.
Duncan, of course, was in an uproar at finding Nadya gone. But he soon decided that she was fine; he could still feel her close by. The tickling sensation of a pre-immortal still pressed against his own Quickening.
He still didn't know all of what had happened, hadn't had time to talk to Methos.
What was that?
Backtracking two steps, Duncan peeked onto the terrace and then quickly moved on, a smirking smile on his face.
'To tease or not to tease? No. I like my smaller intestine.' he decided wisely.
.....................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Charles was sitting in his chair by Ororo's bedside when she awoke.
"Professor," came her weak voice.
"Welcome back." Xavier smiled with relief as she came to. She seemed to draw some comfort from his presence but then remembered why she was in her current predicament. Worry multiplied
"Piotr. What ha..."
"It's alright. Everyone is alive, and back in one piece." 'At least physically,' he added silently.
She nodded, feeling too tired to talk.
"Could you drink something?" They both turned to the new voice from the doorway. Duncan stood there. Again, she nodded this time will a smile.
"I'll go get you some juice. Professor Xavier, as soon as we can collect everyone...."
"We can work through this anytime, Mr. MacLeod. There is not rush." Duncan smiled then left to get the juice.
"You get as much rest as you can." Charles patted her hand, then wheeled himself from the room.
.........................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Piotr pulled himself out of bed finally. He had lain there along time. Thinking about everything. He now had a headache. He passed Rogue in the library area, on his way to the kitchen. She seemed morose but his own mood would not be of much help for that. He had only one thing on his mind at the moment, weighing it down with anticipation and dread. How could such a small woman evoke such a huge feeling?
...............................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Charles heard the sounds of soft conversation as he powered down the hallway. He caught sight of two figures seated on the stone railing of the balcony. He also felt the strong emotions radiating from them.
Logan had apparently heard him slow because he stopped his quiet conversation with the dark-haired lady, Talia.
"You need something, Chuck?" He turned his head to the side slightly, catching Xavier in the corner if his vision.
"Later we will get everyone together to discuss everything from the past few days..."
"Why tell me?"
"Actually he was informing me...." Talia said.
Logan looked at her.
"...of that and several character flaws of yours."
Logan jerked his head back to the Professor as she said that, anger on his face. Then he heard Talia laughing and Xavier's own smile fighting to come out. He frowned and said, "Funny."
Talia smiled at him and then placed a kiss on the frown. It quickly faded, along with the sound of the motorized wheelchair continuing down the hall.
......................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
Methos finally got Nadya to wake. Long after his leg had gone numb.
'Yes, for you I feel regret.'
"Methos...."
"You do not have to. If you want to, that's ok...but take your time. I am here if you need it." He simply offered.
...................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
"Are you OK?" Bobby asked, setting his mug down. Rogue had not said a word all through breakfast; it wasn't like her to be so quiet.
Rogue glanced up at him. "Yeah. I'm fine," she said quickly, turning to the remainder of her coffee, wrapping her hands around the mug.
Bobby didn't believe her, of course, but he didn't press her; Rogue didn't like to be pressed.
...........................................................................................................................................................................................................................................
She'd finally sat up. Finally, he could move his leg. Methos sighed as he sat up on the bench. The sun was high and he tossed the blanket aside and massaged his leg, trying to get that annoying prickling numbness to go away.
"I think I'm going to leave, Methos."
He spun around and stared at her. "What?"
"I'm going to go home to Seacouver." Nadya turned to face him. "I shouldn't be here."
"What are you talking about?!"
"I'm a liability. I'm tired of people getting hurt because of me; I'm tired of being a trap for my friends." There was a sad resignation to her voice as she got up and stepped through the cool grass a bit, her arms wrapped around herself.
Methos felt as though someone had slapped him in the face and it stung more than Hayden's whip.
"Nadya...this isn't your fault. Hayden came after me…"
"But he used me to make you suffer!" she exclaimed, turning about on him. Then her voice softened a bit. "If I'm not here, at least he can't use me to hurt you. Maybe then he'll face you like a man."
Methos didn't go to her, just sat where he was. "And if...and if I lose? He'll find you wherever you go, Nadya. You're part of this for him; in order to truly hurt and destroy me, he must hurt you."
He said as much as he dared without revealing her own secret to her; MacLeod would kill him if he told her. He tried another approach.
"And Piotr? Would you just leave him hanging?"
Nadya turned to Methos, her eyes plainly calling 'foul' but she tried to disguise it. "What does he...?"
Methos had been alive too long to not be able to read the slightest snatches of facial features. "He has everything to do with this, Nadya. I saw you; you care for him, I know."
Nadya bit her lower lip and simply turned away again, a 'tell' that he had hit a nerve.
"Please."
It was the "please" that forever caught her memory. She turned around again.
"Please, don't leave. I...I need you here." Methos always thought he would choke on those words but, remarkably, he didn't.
Nadya sighed, moving back towards him again and sitting on the bench. Looping her arms through Methos', she laid her head on his shoulder.
Nothing more was said.