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To joslin: Joe is in his bar, he still knows nothing about the incident; nobody has informed him yet. (But he will make an appearance in the next chapter)

8 hours later, watcher hospital

About eight hours later, Dr. Wildwather sat in a comfortable chair next to the young Immortal and examined him closely. He recently had awoken again and was now laying with a still pale face in his bed. He made a very tired impression to Dr. Wildwather, a side effect of the sedative he had been given again to keep him relaxed. There were shadows of sleep visible in his eyes as he tried to stay awake and focus on her.

Smiling at him, she pointed with her right hand to herself. "Tamia Wildwather," she pronounced her name. Then she pointed at him and said, "Adam Pierson."

First, she saw confusion in his green eyes – but only for a second – a moment later, he obviously understood and repeated, "Adm Pirsn."

"No," she smiled, "A-dam Pier-son," she stressed the words.

He nodded and then once again repeated his name, this time correctly.

Dr. Wildwather had been very surprised as they had discovered that he had not only lost his language but was also speaking in a strange one instead. She had asked the language experts about it, but they hadn't been able to tell her which language this could be. So she had guessed that he must have picked it up with the two quickening – maybe a strange side effect?

Forcing these thoughts away, she pointed again at herself, "Tamia Wildwather."

"Tamia Wildwather," he repeated. She had to give him credit: he had her name pronounced correctly the first time he tried – apparently he was a fast learner.

Both managed several other words before his eyes began to get heavier and heavier and his mind started to drift away. Finally no longer able to fight the drugs, he surrendered to sleep.

Next day

At the next day, Adam, who was still slightly sedated, was showed by a male nurse how to use the bathroom correctly. He learned very fast; obviously he began to remember things again when someone showed him how. That was an indicator that he not really had lost his memory; he only seemed not able to access it.

Later, both he and Dr. Tamia Wildwather sat in front of a table, two tablets with lunch placed on it. Apparently not knowing what to do with the flatware, he looked expectantly at her. She smiled as she took the fork and explained, "fork."Then she pronged a bean onto it and inserted it into her mouth, chewing several moments on it before she finally swallowed it.

He watched her for some moments with interest, then he tried to imitate her. She could see his face twist as he chewed on the bean – according to the slight disgusting-looking expression on his face, he was apparently not a big bean-fan. Smiling, she ordered him some chips together with a cutlet instead, what obviously complied with his taste much better. Although at the beginning a little bit clumsy – several chips landed on the floor and not in his mouth - he learned very fast how to handle the flatware the right way.

Feeling almost a bit proud of him, her smile widened... a second later, she shook her head mentally at herself: for a moment she almost had felt like a proud mother – not a behaviour that was professional for a psychiatrist. He is a patient, she thought angrily at herself, not my son. Eying him a little closer, she had to confess that there was something about him – an aura of vulnerability that made people want to adopt and keep him safe.

The next hours they spent together while she showed him the ground of the watcher hospital. Sitting down outside in the small garden, she then began to teach him new words the same way she would have small children. She showed him small plates with things like the sun or an animal printed on it and pronounced its name before she let him repeat it.

The next eight weeks continued this way: both spending time together, learning words.

At one day, he had cut himself accidental with a knife. She had found him starring in fascination at his healing finger while he made one cut after the other into it. It had been a bit tricky to explain him the reason, but she had have the impression that he accepted his Immortality very well. She had also explained him about the watchers at that time, relieved that he hadn't seemed shocked about the whole thing.

12 weeks later

About twelve weeks later - after a very intensive daily training - he was able to communicate with her in English again. Apparently, he had not really forgotten the English language but had only needed a refreshing to access it again - although it was a little bit surprising for Dr. Wildwather that he now was totally lacking any accent. According to what she had heard about him, he definitely had spoken with a very distinct British accent before. Not being able come up with a rational reason for that strange effect, she finally decided to blame it on the strange quickening.

During the last weeks she had also considered to contact Joe Dawson, who was said to be a friend of Pierson, but then at the end had decided against it. Maybe it was better for Adam to remember in slight steps, too much at once could prove disastrous. So she came to the decision to show him things of his past first before they would continue with persons; Joe Dawson and Duncan MacLeod would have to wait.

Trying to come up with some suitable things of his past they could start with, she had spoken to Dr. Zoll, Adam's former supervisor, and found out that he had liked to spent time in a room called 'Immortal Hale of Fame' at watcher HQ. The room showed pictures and belongings of several Immortals, all of course dead. Dr. Wildwather hoped that maybe a familiar surrounding would help him to relax and remember - and if not, no harm would be done.

2 hours later, watcher HQ

Together with Dr. Wildwather, he entered a long room that was illuminated by many lights. In there he could see some glass showcases containing lots of staff: for example axes and swords of different size and style. At the walls hung pictures showing different persons, some of it were photos, others paintings.

"Adam," he heard Dr. Wildwather call him from behind. Adam, he thought as he turned to face her. The name held no meaning for him as if it not really belonged to him. He had repeated it repeatedly in his mind, pronounced it in as many different ways he had been able to come up, but it had remained empty to him.

She was smiling at him as she continued, "I will leave you alone now for one hour. It's better if nobody disturbs you... And don't try to force the memories; they will come back when you are ready... Take your time!"With a last encouraging smile in his direction, she then turned and left him alone.

For some terrible moments he felt frightened and helpless. Then he forced himself to relax again; he was safe here, nobody would harm him. He closed his eyes and counted to ten; then he had himself again under control enough to step to the first picture to his right.

It showed a beautiful dark-haired woman; the white nameplate that was installed under the photo read Nefertiri. He starred at her face, but she brought no familiar memories to him. After focussing on it for some moments, he finally stepped to the next picture that showed a very ugly looking man with a glad head and an ugly scar around his neck– still not familiar. He looked at the nameplate: The Kurgan. The Kurgan, he repeated in his mind as he tried to decide if this was actually a name or something else.

He wandered along the showcases and pictures until he suddenly stopped. His heart began to speed up as he found himself drawn to one of the pictures by an invisible force. It was the picture of a dark-haired man with a small scar over his right eye who was grinning evilly at him. The nameplate read Kronos. Kronos, the name echoed in his mind – it definitely had a meaning to him. Trying to remember, he closed his eyes and focused on the familiar sound of the name. For a second he actually meant to catch a memory, but then it slipped.

A bit disappointed, he opened his eyes again and stared at the three weapons that hung next to the picture: two swords and one axe. The sword in the middle looked very impressive: its handle looked like an approximate 9 inches and it had triangular protrusions under the very impressive-shaped guard. As he looked a little closer, he saw a "blood groove" that went down the middle of this blade. He couldn't help himself but had the impression that he knew the sword. The nameplate that was placed under the swords read 'swords of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse'.

As he looked up again, he discovered two other pictures hanging on the other side of the weapons. They showed two dark-haired men; the first looked like a maniac to him; the other - Silas, he read - there was something about him that made his stomach knot. His throat tightened as he closed his eyes; there was a slight feeling of pain and guilt connected to this man, although he couldn't explain why.

Drawn by an invisible force, he then extended his right hand and toughed the weapons next to him. Crying in surprise as he cut himself at the middle sword, he starred at the blood that appeared on it. While he watched in fascination the deep-red blood run down the silver shining blade, pictures suddenly appeared in his mind: pictures of him and these three men together sitting around a fire. They were laughing and the man with the scar was calling him brother. "Brother," he whispered - he liked the sound. Feeling something deep in him respond to the word, he smiled.

"Have you remembered something?" suddenly the voice of Dr. Wildwather coming from behind, interrupted his thoughts. Surprised, he turned and starred at her smiling face. For a moment he considered telling her about his memories, but then there was suddenly a voice in his mind that told him not to - it was better to trust nobody. He forced a smile on his face as he lay, "no, nothing."

Dr. Wildwather looked at the young Immortal in front of her. She had returned a little bit earlier and had entered the room without him noticing. Staying almost in trance in front of the Horsemen weapons, he had looked... she really wasn't able to describe it, but his face had for a moment seemed to be old – very, very old, almost alien. And there had been a slight flicker of something dark on his face as he had smiled. For a moment, he hadn't looked like Adam at all... but the moment was gone, and she found herself once again face-to-face with a vulnerable young man. She shook her head, she must have been wrong: Blaming it on the light, she finally pointed to the exit. "Let's go!" Both left the room together, not noticing that behind them a small drop of blood remained on the sword.

Night, Dream

He found himself standing in a complete white room; in front of him laid a sword on a white socket, placed on a pillow of blue velvet. He knew the sword; it was the one he had seen in watcher HQ. Taking it in his right hand, he suddenly saw blood drop down the silver shining blade to the white floor. As he examined it a bit closer, he noticed a trace of small blood-drops that led out of the room.

Following it, he reached another room; this time it was a dark room, the ground full of blood, in which he discovered thousand of bodiless heads that were smiling at him. Then some of it suddenly began too laugh at him while others shouted in different languages 'that he had no name and no face... that he was a nobody'.

"No," he shook his head in denial as he pressed his hands onto his ears to stop the screams. Backing away, he suddenly tripped over something and felt to the ground that now looked like a mirror; but it didn't reflect his face – instead there was nothing.

"No," he shouted in fear as he got up again. Turning, he then tried to run to the door, consumed by the burning desire to escape the terrible laughter – but the door suddenly vanished in front of his eyes. In blind panic he then once again turned around, and found himself face-to-face with the dark-haired man with the scar. The man smiled at him as he offered him a hand. "Brother," the other then addressed him, "come and join me."

Panting heavily, Adam opened his eyes and found himself sitting in his bed. With his right hand he wiped the cold sweat from his face before he let himself sink back to the bed again, the dream still vivid in his mind. He had been dreaming of this man, Kronos, since the visit in the watcher HQ; the man always turned up to rescue him in different kind of ways. Sometimes the other two men, Caspian and Silas, also appeared, and they sat around a fire or were riding on horses through a desert.

He was sure now that he knew the men, and that not only from books or pictures. No, he must have met them personally. The problem was that he couldn't ask the doctor about it – she had told him about his life, and the Horsemen had not been mentioned.

Considering the language he had talked in when he had woken up the first time, the short memory-flash he had have since seeing the weapons and pictures of the Horsemen and his dreams, that all made him believe that there was more to him than the watchers, including the good doctor, knew - something he had not told them, a secret. A secret that is better to be kept, a voice whispered in his mind. So he decided to keep silent about the dreams and continue as Adam Pierson until the moment he would finally get his memory back.

Next day, watcher hospital

At the next day, Dr. Wildwather and her patient sat in a typical therapy-room. She smiled warmly at Adam as she took a paper out of her bag and laid it together with a pencil on her desk. Then she looked up and began to ask, "you said that you were having dreams... can you remember what they were about?"

Examining him very closely, she saw him hesitate for a moment before he looked her directly into the eyes. "No, not really... I wake up and I can't remember much." He hesitated once again before he continued, "I think that there is a person in my dreams... it's always the same one." He stopped and stared at the floor.

A person... that's a very interesting development, Dr. Wildwather thought to herself. Wanting to know more about it, she continued with her questions. "Can you describe the person... I mean, is it a man or a woman? How does the person look like?"

He continued to stare at the floor; then he finally looked up again. "A man... with dark hairs."

"And what does he do?"

"I think...," his voice was only a whisper, "I think he tries to help me... I," once again hesitation, "I feel safe with him."

"Good," Dr. Wildwather answered with an encouraging smile on her face. "That's definitely a good sign, Adam. The man must be a very important person to you, else you wouldn't see him in your dreams... And you feel safe with him, that's an indicator that he is really close to you."

Hesitating for a second, she considered showing him a photograph of MacLeod; maybe it was the right time now to confront him with his teacher. Coming after a few moments to the decision that Adam was ready for it, she took a photo of the Scot out of her bag and laid it in front of him. "I want you to have a look at this picture," she said. "And take your time."

Examining his reaction very closely, she watched him look very interested at the photo. For a moment his face was expressionless, then his eyes widened a bit – he definitely remembered something. After a minute, he looked up again.

"I think I know him; he looks familiar... who is he?"

"Is he the man in your dreams?" she wanted to know.

His lashes trembled when he hesitated for some moments - as if considering what to answer. Then he finally looked at her and said, "yes... yes, I think that's the man."

"He is your teacher MacLeod... I tell you something, we make a break here, and I give you later some more details about him... It's better for you if we proceed step by step; too much at one point is not good for you. So I suggest that you eat something and relax a bit, and we meet here in three hours again if that's alright with you."

She smiled at him as he left the room. That he was remembering Duncan MacLeod in his dreams was definitely a good development; apparently they were on the right way... maybe it was time for a personal meeting after all. Deciding to call Joe Dawson, she then hurried to have a closer look at MacLeod's chronicles so that she would be able to give Adam some details about the man later.

Outside the therapy-room

After he had shut the door behind him, Adam leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a second. He had lain to Dr. Wildwather, although he was not able to explain the reason – no, that was not right, he was able, he corrected himself: He didn't think – no, he was sure – that the good doctor would have reacted not very well if he had told her the truce about his dreams. Stories about bodiless heads that were talking to him and other bloody dreams in which he slaughtered small children and woman may be interpreted the wrong way. They would very likely not encourage the doctor to let him walk out of this hospital soon; no, instead they would more likely cause her to throw him into a cell - full of drugs and secured in a straitjacket.

He trusted her – as much as he was able to trust somebody – but he really didn't need that. And he really didn't want her to get wrong ideas; so he had decided that it was better not to tell the truce about the man he was seeing in his dreams. Kronos and the others were obviously bad guys – as much he had guessed as he had seen their pictures, their impressive weapons and not to forget his violent dreams that pointed strongly into the same direction. And telling her about his feelings towards these guys... yes, that would definitely not be a good idea.

He sighed deeply as he opened his eyes again. The man on the photo had also seemed somehow familiar to him - not as much as Kronos, but familiar. And hadn't there also been a slight feeling of safety when he had looked at his face?

Forcing these thoughts away, he finally hurried to get himself something to eat. The doctor was right after all: he shouldn't force the memories; they would come back when he was ready.

Notes: the description of Kronos's sword is taken from the following site:

Some words that shall help you understand Methos's reactions during the whole story a bit better (please keep that in mind when you read it):

First: I assume that Methos had really brotherly feelings towards Kronos and Silas (after all they were his family for about 1000 years). He only gets slight flashes of memory; and he only remembers the good time and has a positive feeling towards them.

Second: Methos loved the feeling of power back in his Horsemen time (he said it himself to Duncan) and so he still likes it now.

Third: Between Duncan and Methos was always a bit tension after the Horsemen; in contrast, the relationship between Joe and Methos seemed to grow closer after the Morgan incident.

And last: (I think I read it in 'An Evening at Joe's') Methos takes quickening very badly, that's the reason he had avoided them the last 200 years. In my story, every quickening makes him a bit darker, bringing him back to his ways as Death.

So, hope that helps a bit to understand the upcoming chapters!