To Village-Mystic: 'Well he knows about cars and heat in cars, so at least you gave us the hint it will be partial amnesia.' I have to confess that I smiled reading your review (and that's the reason why I update the fic today). Methos knows his real name shortly after the quickening, he knows his watcher... and he also still knows about heat in cars – yes, but that is before he falls into coma; and who knows what the coma combined with the still not settled strange quickening does to him :-)
To EvilGiggles: I'm waiting for the promised chapter :-)
A watcher hospital, three days later
Dr. Tamia Wildwather, a 41-year-old Indian psychiatrist, looked at Dr.Green who was still shaking his head in disbelief.
"I really don't understand it," he said, "we checked the Immortal very thoroughly, but we were not able to find the reason for the coma. His body is completely healthy, there's no single injury left, but his mind remains in coma."
"It must have to do with the quickening," another man, a 50 year old French watcher, threw in. "I mean, Wyatt told us that Pierson actually received two quickening, and he also said that they were a bit strange... Obviously, something went wrong - very, very wrong. I already asked the researchers if there is something similar to this in the chronicles, but they say no... I don't think that we can do anything else than wait for him to wake up on his own. Maybe he will be able to explain what happened." Dr. Wildwather saw his eyes gleaming in fascination as he starred at the Immortal. She guessed that he was considering what else the watchers could find out having a real Immortal to ask first hand.
She turned and followed his look through the window leading to the room with the Immortal. He was laying in a white bed, connected to several monitors that showed his vital-signals. His face was very pale, almost the same colour as the white pillow his head was resting on, and he looked very vulnerable. The relaxed features made him appear even younger than he was. She would have guessed him at 24 at best, although she knew that he was older – but not very much as she remembered from his file. According to it, Adam Pierson had been killed a few years ago during the Kalas incident and had become the student of Duncan MacLeod shortly after.
She shook her head as she felt sorrow rise in her stomach. Poor kid, she thought, life really hasn't been nice to you, first Kalas and now this mess. If this is the prize for Immortality, I really don't want it.
Suddenly the monitors controlling his heart rate began to speed up and a warning-signal rang behind her, indicating that the patient was beginning to wake up.
"He's waking up," a nurse's voice confirmed her thoughts.
As the doctor and his assistant left the room to hurry to the patient, Dr. Wildwather watched the Immortal suddenly open his eyes and stare directly into hers. She blinked as she found herself looking into deep green seas, a colour her grandfather, the former medicine man of her tribe, had called magical once. She remembered him to have said that people with these kinds of eyes were very special.
Unable to tear herself away from these incredible eyes, she continued to stare into them, suddenly feeling herself being dragged down into... eternity? Abruptly they changed their colour into gold before they finally blurred and the young Immortal lowered his lashes, closing his eyes again. At the time the doctor and the nurses reached him, he had drifted to sleep again.
Dr. Wildwather blinked in confusion before she finally turned around and looked at her clock. Although she didn't know the reason, she felt a strange tension in her stomach. She shook her head in slight anger at herself; this man was a patient as any other patient, only because he was Immortal wouldn't change a single thing. She would go and look after her other patients now, she decided as she tried to push the disturbing image of the green eyes out of her mind.
6 hours later
First, there was only darkness, and then a slight echo of a thought, the thought that something had gone wrong, very, very wrong. He didn't know what that meant and he really didn't want to think about it. Instead, he wanted to remain where he was, remain in the pleasant space between being and not being where he didn't have to think, to feel or to care.
Forcing the bothering thought away, he let himself being embraced again by welcomed darkness ... until he suddenly became aware of a rhythmical sound - a sound that once again invaded his peace, forced him to think again – to be again. He wished that the sound would stop, but his hope was in vain. The sound got louder and louder and dragged him back to consciousness... He felt something soft covering his hands, his whole body. He opened his eyes...
... and found himself laying in a white room. When he lifted his head, he spotted to his right and left strange grey objects. Several moments later, he identified these things as the source of the sounds that had disturbed his peace not long ago. He also noticed that he was connected to these objects via black and red ropes, although the ropes not really looked like ropes to him.
When he tried to sit up, he could hear the sounds get faster. Lowering his right hand, he saw a small silver thing sticking in his flash that was connected to an also strange looking object next to him. It was silver and very high. On top of it hung a small transparent bag in which he could see some liquid. He shook his head, how strange.
His thoughts were disturbed by some people entering through a door at the other side of the room. He was confused as he starred at these people, who were they? Priests? He came to the conclusion that they really had to bee priests because they wore strange looking white clothes and one of them had a silver-red necklace around his neck. This had to be the high priest, he decided.
The high priest smiled at him, and then said something in a language he didn't understand. He saw the man frowning when he didn't answer. Then the priest then came closer and took something out of his cloth while he continued to speak in this alien language.
Where am I and what do these people want from me? He tried to remember how he had gotten into this situation but only found a black whole were his thoughts should have been. Fear rose in him as he realized that he wasn't able to remember, remember why he was here and more important: WHO he was. No, that can't be, he thought in panic, I must remember, I must have a name – but there was still nothing.
Cold sweat covered his body as he felt his own heartbeat speed up. From a very far distance he heard the hectic shouts of the priests and the now very fast sound of the strange objects he was connected to. He screamed in fear; panic overwhelmed him and he was no longer able to think rational. Feeling himself pressed down, he tried to fight; he kicked and bit around until he finally felt a single sharp pain in his right arm. Then his eyes began to feel heavy and peaceful darkness claimed him again.
Dr. Green looked aghast at the now relaxed form of the Immortal as he took the silver-red stethoscope, his patient almost had pulled from his neck, and staffed it in his pocket. He really hadn't expected such a reaction; his patient had gone totally insane. That had left him with no other choice than to inject the young man with a sedative to calm him down.
"What the hell was that?" he asked his assistant, a young man of 30, who had helped him hold down the patient. A look at his face was enough answer for Dr. Green, his assistant looked as stunned as he felt himself.
Shaking his head in disbelief, Dr. Green finally said," something is very, very wrong. Call Dr. Wildwather. I think we need her here when he wakes up again; this is definitely a case for a psychiatrist, not for a plain medical doctor like me."
As his assistant did as ordered, Dr. Green continued to stare at the young Immortal, deep in thoughts what they should do now.
Notes: The thoughts Methos has before he wakes up, and the annoying sound of the heartbeat-machine are inspired by my own 'lucky' experience with hospitals and unconsciousness. So, I know what I'm writing about :-)