"You left him there."

Duncan hissed the words, through clenched teeth, in barely restrained fury. All the years that he had lain awake nights and wished that he could have given Richie the loved and secure childhood that he had enjoyed were contained in that single sentence.

"It was necessary."

Methos didn't even spare him a glance as he crossed the clearing. His eyes were fixed on Richie. Instinctively, Duncan stepped in front of the lad, shielding him from the Ancient Immortal's view.

"Necessary? You left a traumatised child to the mercy of a system, which neglected and abused him. How the hell can you justify that?"

"I left him on Holy Ground," Methos corrected, finally shifting his gaze to acknowledge the Scot. "What the bloody hell would you expect me to do, Macleod? These people thought nothing of murdering his own Mother right in front of his eyes, just on the off chance that it might tip the balance of the Prophecy in their favour. Do you really think they had his best interests at heart? I had a choice. I could take him with me, and most likely get him killed in the process. Or I see that he lived."

"At any cost?" Duncan sneered. He had thought Methos capable of some cold-blooded things in the past, but to sacrifice the happiness and security of a child to the whim of some possible Prophecy, seemed beyond the pale.

"At least he survived."

Duncan felt every muscle in his body tense as his conscience heard the unspoken accusation. Left to his care Richie had been made Immortal, too soon and too young for anyone's comfort.

"Oh, by all the god's, Macleod, I didn't mean it like that."

"No? Then how exactly did you mean it?"

"Alright!" Rich surged to his feet and glared at both men. "Just cut it out, will you?"

"Richard," Methos stepped forward, his eyes dark with remorse. "If I could have done ..."

"No," Richie cut him off, his voice tight with pain. "Don't even go there, alright?"

"Aye," Duncan stepped up protectively beside his son. "I think you've done more than enough already."

"Oh great Mac," Richie scoffed. "Why don't you challenge him and have done with it? That would really make me feel a whole lot better." He looked from one to the other, as they both stood open-mouthed. "You know, I can't deal with this right now. I'm going back to the camp. Don't even try and follow me!"

The two older Immortals stared at the figure retreating swiftly into the dark of the desert night.

"He's going to get a chill, dressed like that." Duncan murmured. It got very cold in the desert at night and, Immortal or not, Richie was still not fully recovered from his recent illness.

"He's going to get himself lost," Methos groused. "The least you could have done was to teach him to track properly."

"Then maybe you and Rebecca should have chosen another city to raise him in. There weren't many quokka entrails in downtown Seacouver."

"You know Macleod, you really need to look the word Prophecy up in a dictionary."

"Oh come on," Duncan rolled his eyes. "Its just co-incidence that Tessa and I decided to move to Seacouver as well. We looked at five or six different cities when we decided to leave Paris. We could have chosen any of them."

"Except you didn't."

"So, for the last five thousand years every move you've made has been dictated by this Prophecy?" Duncan scoffed.

Well, maybe not every move Methos acknowledged to himself silently. He was fairly sure a couple of his marriages were entirely his own fault. But looking back, it was both reassuring and terrifying to realise how many of his supposed choices had lead to this point. "Did it never occur to you that there was a reason that I have lived so long?"

The emotional part of Duncan's brain was reluctant to accept anything so facile as destiny as an excuse for the hardships his lad had endured. But the logical part had to acknowledge that the evidence that something was going on here was becoming too numerous to ignore. And then there was Richie. The lad was clearly hurting and Duncan was prepared to put his own feelings aside to do what was best for him.

For now.

"So, what does your precious Prophecy say we should do next?" he muttered with bad grace.

Richie Ryan tensed as the presence of another Immortal washed over him. He had no idea how long he had been sitting here, alone with his thoughts. But he knew it wasn't nearly long enough.

"Unless you want to feel the sharp end of my sword, I'd suggest you don't stick around." He warned darkly.

"Now there's an offer a girl doesn't get every day." A female voice purred.

"Amanda," Richie nodded. "Of course," He wasn't sure whether to be grateful that they had respected his wishes and stayed away, or annoyed that they clearly thought that he was still a slave to his teenage hormones at heart if they had brought her out here to win him over.

"So," He asked, without looking at her. "Which one of them called you?"

"They both did," Amanda kicked off her shoes and settled down beside him in the dust. "Duncan's worried sick that he's going to loose you to Methos."

That got Richie's attention. He turned his head and searched Amanda's profile.

"Did he say that?"

"Well, not in so many words," A shrug. "But you have to know that's what he's feeling."

Richie pressed his lips together. It had taken him a long time to realise that Mac needed him as much as he needed the Highlander. "Figures he'd find some way to make this about him," he snorted, not without affection. "He's like the poster boy for guilt."

They sat in silence for a while. Richie looked up at the stars, picking out familiar constellations from unfamiliar angles. He remembered how Mac had patiently taught him the name of each cluster and the means of navigating by the stars, but it was Methos who had told him the ancient myths and legends behind each name. He sighed.

"He always loved you, you know." Amanda murmured and Richie knew they weren't talking about Mac anymore.

"He left me."

"It wasn't his fault."

"Oh please," Richie scoffed. "The Prophecy made me do it? I could come up with better excuses than that when I was in the first grade."

"But they wouldn't have been true."

"Not you as well." Richie rolled his eyes. Amanda was such an advocate for the consumer society; he sometimes forgot that she was way older than Mac and just as likely to believe in weird stuff. And that scared him. Because the more people who believed in it, the more it might be true. Even thinking about that made his throat tighten.

"I'm sorry." Amanda said softly.

They sympathy in her tone did little to settle Richie's nerves. "You really believe all this stuff, huh?"

"Rebecca believed in it and I believed in her. She never gave me any reason not to."

"Yeah, right." Richie couldn't talk about that now. It was too raw, too new. He had always believed that Emily had loved him until the day she died. To discover that she too had left him was almost more than he could bear.

"Oh Richard," Amanda put her arm around him. "It wasn't like that. She loved you so much. She did everything she could to keep you with her. But after she was killed, it was too dangerous. And when you moved in with Mac, she wanted to come to you, but she was afraid you would recognise her."

"I wouldn't have been angry, I just .. I wish I could have seen her." Richie blinked hard and scrubbed angrily at his face. After almost a century this should hurt so much. But it did.

"I know," Amanda stroked his hair. "But she couldn't risk you realising that you were destined to be Immortal. And after you died, she just wanted to give you some time to adjust. You were still so young. She always thought she had plenty of time."

Richie was still trying to get his head around the concept of time as appreciated by his elders. He knew there were times when Duncan and Connor had not seen each other for a half century or so and neither of them had thought anything of it. Mac and Amanda hadn't seen each other for several decades when he had first met her in Paris. He had always kinda figured he would never live long enough to experience the concept. If the end of the world really was nigh, he might be right about that.

"How did it happen?" He needed to know that much at least. "I mean, when so many people think it's not possible?"

"No-one really knows for sure what the biology is," Amanda shrugged. "We think it has something to do with the power of the Quickening. If she is fertile and he is old enough, and you'd be surprised how rarely that happens, a pregnancy might occur if..."

"Only might?" Richie interrupted.

"Richard, dearest, no matter what the contraceptive companies might wish you to believe not every union results in a child."

"Oh man," Richie shook his head. He could believe he was almost a hundred and he was having this talk. It had been embarrassing enough the first time he had had it with Mac. And Connor. And Methos.

"Anyway, Immortal pregnancies aren't like mortal ones. We could hardly be expected to bear the child for nine months. What if we were challenged?"

"So, how long?"

"About forty eight hours. And afterwards our bodies heal themselves so there's no sign of a delivery."

"Oh." Richie supposed that made sense. If you only carried a child for the weekend then he supposed you wouldn't care for it as deeply as if you had borne it for nine months. That would make it easier to give the kid up.

"Oh honey, nothing about any of this is ever easy." Amanda corrected, when he voiced that thought. Her voice was tight with pain, raising an uncomfortable suspicion in Richie's mind.

"Amanda, have you ever ..?"

"Once," Amanda wouldn't look at him. "He died much too young."

"Was he ..?" Richie couldn't ask.

"Duncan's?" Amanda shook her head. "No, this was long before I met him. But afterwards, when I realised how vulnerable our children are, I vowed I would never have another. In that, at least, mortal ways can work for us too."

"'Manda," Richie blushed. This was way too much information. It was only later, much later that he would realise the identity of Amanda's child and realise why she was so reluctant to repeat the experience of motherhood.

"You need to talk to Methos." Amanda advised.

"Maybe, I don't want to hear his excuses." Richie countered. Maybe, he had had enough of that from his various foster fathers growing up. He didn't want to hear how all this was somehow his fault. That he had brought it on himself.

"You know, I never knew my father," Amanda spoke softly. "Because Methos killed him."

"What?" Richie looked at her, horrified.

"Its not like you think. My Mother was taken at sword point, against her will. It was just misfortune that it was one of her fertile times. She fell pregnant whilst she was still in his power, so he waited until she was delivered of the child and then he sold me like I was no better than an Ox or a Pig. Methos hunted him down and made sure that he paid for the violence he had visited upon my Mother. Then he searched for me. He made sure that when I became one of us I was returned to Rebecca's care. Do I blame him that he didn't find me sooner? Or do I love for him for the sacrifices he made to give me the family he never had? Ever since that time he has always been as a father to me."

"Rebecca was your Mom too?" Richie wasn't sure he had heard that part right.

"One of many things we have in common." Amanda smiled at him. "Do you really think I would have taught just anyone how to disable Connor's security system?"

"So, my sister is sleeping with my Dad?" Richie made a face. "Isn't that kinda gross?"

"Half sister," Amanda corrected. "And I'm not related to Mac at all. Not even remotely."

"Well oookay," Richie supposed that, at least Amanda had never tried to be a mother to him. She was always more of a younger Aunt, or, he realised with sudden clarity, an older sister.

Which still left the moral of her story. Did he resent Methos for a decision he had, apparently, been forced into all those years ago? Or did he forgive the man whom he had considered part of his family for the last eighty years?

"I have something for you." Amanda changed the subject.

"Really? Its not my birthday for another week." Richie tried to lighten the mood

"I know. Rebecca wanted you to have this."

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a crystal, on a simple chain, similar but not identical to the one they had recently gone to great and illegal lengths to retrieve.

"Its for me?" Richie shook his head in denial. "I was never one of her students."

"No," Amanda patted his leg gently. "You were her son. Aren't the most important lessons ion life those we leaner from our Mothers?"

Richie looked at the light reflecting off the various facets of the crystal and reflexively rubbed at his neck.

"You know, I used to have one that looked just like this."

The past. Paris.

"Hey," Duncan bounded down the steps and into the barge. "Anyone home?"

"Duncan," Tessa didn't look quite as pleased to see him as he had hoped as she came over to greet him. "We did not expect you until tomorrow."

"I finished my business early and thought I would surprise you," he greeted her with a kiss and looked around. "Where's Richie?"

Tessa bit her lip and regarded him worriedly. "He is in his room."

Duncan sighed. Taking in the troubled teenager had been the best thing he had ever done. Richie had added so much to their lives. But like any teenager he still made mistakes.

"What happened this time?"

"It wasn't his fault." Tessa defended him stoutly.

Duncan trod softly as he approached the teenager's small room under the wheelhouse. Tessa had promised to have his guts for garters if he woke the lad when he was sleeping. As he pushed open the door the first thing he saw, where the dark bruises on Richie's face, which was stark white against his pillow. As he approached, he took in the thin swollen marks around the lad's neck, swallowing involuntarily at so obvious an injury to such a vulnerable part of the pre-Immortal's anatomy.

"Mac?" Richie turned his head to look at the Immortal.

"Hey, Tough guy," Duncan settled himself on the bed. Richie looked tired and he could see small lines of pain around his eyes. A jar of prescription painkillers and a glass of water, sat on the nightstand. Duncan picked them up, checked the dosage and tipped two pills into his hand, offering them with the glass. It was a sign of how bad Richie was feeling that he swallowed the pills without protest.

"How are you?"

"I'm okay," Richie looked down at the blankets. "Though you weren't gonna be back till tomorrow?"

"I got an earlier flight," Duncan dismissed that. "What happened to you?"

Richie looked up at him. "Didn't Tessa tell you already?"

"She told me you were mugged," Duncan nodded. He picked up one injured hand from where it lay on top of the blankets and rubbed his thumb over the bruised and swollen knuckles. "She didn't say that you were daft enough to fight them."

"Hey, that stuff was mine," Richie insisted. "They had no right to take it."

"That 'stuff' was insured," Duncan scolded. "You, on the other hand could have been seriously hurt. You were hurt."

"Its just a few cuts," Richie protested. The unspoken, I've had worse hung in the air between them. "Besides, Angie bought me that crystal for my 16th birthday. It meant a whole lot to me."

"Rich," Tessa had shown him a copy of the Police report. The four men, who witnesses had said were all older and heavier than the boy, had punched him to the ground, before stealing his wallet and ripping the crystal on its leather thong from around his neck. "Do you still not know how much you mean to us?"

"Aw, c'mon Mac. You wouldn't be saying that if it was Tessa's rings and stuff they wanted." Richie protested.

"Indeed, I would. Things, even expensive or sentimental things, are never more important than people," Duncan wanted to make this quite clear. "You get robbed you give them what they want. Do you hear me? No thing, no object, is worth putting yourself in danger for. Are we clear?"

Richie scowled at him. "Crystal, alright?"

"Well good," Duncan softened his tone and ruffled the lad's hair in acknowledgement of the sour pun. "I'm sorry, Rich. I know some things can't be replaced. I just happen to think that you are one of them."

The frank affection earned him a small smile, which faded rapidly as Richie cast his mind back to the attack.

"I don't even know they wanted it, it wasn't like it was worth anything. Not to anyone else."

"I don't know," Duncan struggled to comfort him. "But I'm sure Angie wouldn't have wanted you to get hurt over it, would she?"

"I guess not."

Looking down at him, trying to be brave, Duncan smiled softly, truth be told he was proud that the lad had had enough gumption to stand up to his attackers. Such courage deserved more reward than a scolding.

"Tell you what, why don't we invitee Angie to come and stay for a few days. Then, you'll have something other than the crystal to remember her by?"

"Here? To Paris?" Richie's face lit up.

"Sure, why not?" Duncan smiled. And if Richie and Tessa were busy showing Angie the sights, they would be far less likely to notice his absence as he looked for the men who had done this to his lad.

The present.

"A few days later, it was handed in at a local Police Station," Richie told Amanda. "At the time, I just figured they realised that it was worthless and threw it away. It was years before Mac fessed up that he had put himself in the line of fire and gone looking. A bit too kinda do as I say not as I do, you know?"

"Did he say anything, about the men who attacked you?"

"They weren't Immortals, if that's what you're thinking. Why?"

Amanda told him.

"What's taking her so long?" Duncan paced across the sand. "I thought they'd be safely back here by now."

"They do have a lot to talk about," Methos allowed. "And Amanda, won't let him do anything foolish."

"She might not be able to stop him," Duncan pointed out. Richie had grown up a lot in the last hundred years. The days when all Amanda had to do was flutter her eyelashes and the lad was putty in her hands were long gone.

"Well, there .. " Methos broke off at the wash of an approaching Immortal.

The next minute Amanda, breathless and dishevelled from running so fast over rough ground, burst into the small circle of light cast by their campfire.

"He's gone. I tried to stop him. But he wouldn't listen. You have to come. Quickly. Before its too late."

"Gone where?" Duncan demanded.

"To challenge Ares."

"What!" Duncan exclaimed. He glared at Methos. "I thought you said she woulda let him do anything foolish."

"Of course, this is all my fault." Methos groused.

"Will you just come?" Amanda demanded.

Even as they ran Methos was calculating the time that Richie would have taken to get to the clearing. Then he would have had to dig Ares out. Next, pulling out the Ivanhoe, he would have to wait for the other to revive. Only then could the challenge be issued and all would be lost. Because there was no way Richie was ready for this. Not yet.

"Tell me, Amanda dear," he hissed, from between clenched teeth, as he ran. "What exactly did you say to him that made him think that this was remotely a good idea?"

"I told him about the crystal," Amanda admitted unhappily. "I thought it would help."

"Oh sure," Methos agreed. "Help him get himself killed."

Up ahead he heard the clash of swords and knew that battle had already been joined.

Trivia Note – when I was researching this, (yes contrary to appearances I really do that!), I checked Lady and the Tiger as I recalled that Mac and Amanda said they hadn't met for a looong time – about 70 years. But later in the series she appears in The Return of Amanda, which has them meeting in 1936. So, you can make up your own date I guess!