AN: Hey guys thanks for the reviews!! Sorry it took so long. Between
work and getting ready to move everything is a pain!! Well anywho here's
the next part.
~~~ Richie walked into the old warehouse out of the pouring rain. He was drenched from head to toe. It was cold out, but he wasn't worried about it. He had been a lot colder with a lot less clothes for along time before now.
The warehouse had been condemned after a large fire broke out. Richie had been about ten at the time. Now seven years later it still looked burnt and broken. Time apparently didn't change everything. Including some people.
Richie walked through the rubble. He remembered the first time he had been brought there and suddenly things seemed very cold. Much colder than it had been a minute ago and it wasn't the kind of cold any amount of blankets could warm.
*Flashback 5 years ago*
A twelve year old Richie Ryan was shoved roughly into the warehouse. Dirt clung to his tiny body so badly that his blond curls looked brown. He looked up angrily at the man who had thrown him down.
"Get up brat," Jesse yelled. He would have kicked the boy but he needed him healthy and unharmed. He'd get more money for him that way.
Richie slowly got to his feet and brushed the dirt off his pants. Jesse grabbed his jacket and dragged him over to a chair. He threw him towards it causing Richie to stumble into it.
"Sit down and keep your mouth shut!"
Richie did as he was told, keeping a death glare on Jesse. He'd been living with him for a little over two months. Richie didn't like Jesse. The man barely fed him and didn't buy Richie anything he needed. For the last two months all Jesse did was complain about money and teach Richie the 'tricks of the trade'.
Jesse had taught the young boy all about breaking in and out of places. He had taught Richie how to cut glass and get past motion detectors. He went so far as to show him how to hot wire a car even though the boy didn't know how to drive.
Tonight was supposed to be Richie's first night in the field. Some people were supposed to take him home with them and after they fell asleep Richie was supposed to steal the most expensive thing he could find and sneak back to the warehouse where Jesse would be waiting for him.
Richie didn't feel right about it, but Jesse had threatened to hurt him if he didn't do what the older man said. Richie believed that Jesse would hurt him. He'd already hit him a few times when Richie didn't do something to his satisfaction.
Richie sat in his chair and watched as people began to shuffle in. Some came as couples, others were single. There were tall people, short people, men and women and they all had one thing in common. They were all wearing expensive clothes and expensive jewelry. They were all rich.
Make that two things they had in common. All of them were staring at young Richie. The boy swallowed a lump in his throat. He wasn't sure he like the way they were looking at him.
*End Flashback*
"Still looks the same doesn't it?" A voice said bringing him back to the present.
Jesse was standing in the shadows about five feet away. Lightning flashed on Jesse's dark figure making him look like some sort of mad man out of a horror flick. Richie didn't argue the fact that he was a madman.
Jesse stepped out of the shadows and began walking towards Richie. The teen didn't move towards him, but he didn't back away either. He held his ground despite the growing fear in the pit of his stomach.
"Although you, young Richie, you have changed. You're more hansom now then before." Jesse walked behind him. He put his hands on Richie's shoulders and began gently massaging them.
Richie didn't like it, but he didn't pull away.
"You're not as scrawny as before," Jesse continued. He moved his hands to Richie's chest and put his head on the teens shoulder. "You could make us a whole lot of money with this body."
Richie jerked away and Jesse laughed. Richie turned to face the older man. The pleasure Jesse got out of this made Richie stomach churn.
"That's not what we're here for Jesse!"
"Well actually it is."
Richie's jaw dropped. "What are you talking about? You said I was here to help you pull a job!"
"You are," Jesse concurred. "But in order to pull the job I need you to get into their house. Get close to them!"
Richie felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn't go through that again. He couldn't be rented out for the night. "Forget it!"
Jesse walked up so that there faces were extremely close. So close that Richie could feel the warmth of Jesse's breath blowing over his own face. Being this close was extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't move.
"You can either do this or I can go and tell your nice little family all about your dirty little past." Jesse pulled back. "Who knows, the sex stuff they might not mind." He smiled. "But what about the man you killed."
Richie's heart started to beat rapidly. Jesse was the only person who knew about that. If Mac ever found out he'd never even look at him. He'd hate him. Richie couldn't handle that, but he couldn't handle spending a night with those people either. He was torn between the two most horrible choices in the world.
Jesse could see the dilemma in the boys face. He knew how much Richie hated the 'auction', but Jesse made a lot of money off of it. He had been real upset when Richie ran off. Now was his chance to get him back. He was going to make the teen pay for taking a way the best source of income he'd ever had and he was going to enjoy ever minute of it.
"I'll tell you what," Jesse said with an evil grin. "I've got a few errands to run. Meet me back here tomorrow morning at ten. If you don't show up, I'll assume you've declined the offer."
"I have to work tomorrow." Richie told him.
"Well then I suggest you play sick. If you don't show up, I'm going to make an unexpected trip to an antique shop." Jesse started walking towards the door. "See ya later slick."
Richie sighed. He didn't know what to do. In one hand he either had to revert to his past. The past he dreaded and swore he'd never revert to again. On the other his past came back to haunt him and he would lose the two people who meant more to him than anything in the world. (Not that he'd ever admit it, but he still knew it was true).
No matter which path he took he got hurt. Either way he wound up walking with the devil. He looked around and for the first time he noticed that the some of the chairs were still there. The same plastic white chairs that had been there since he was twelve. They were a little dirtier now, but they were still the same.
Suddenly he was extremely, completely, totally, and utterly angry. He couldn't think of any other way to put it. He hated Jesse. He hated what he was doing. He hated what he was going to have to do.
Richie stormed over and grabbed one of the chairs. He lifted high over his head and threw it as far as it could. Being that it was plastic it didn't do much but bounce of the wall. Richie continued to grab chair after chair and throw them. When there were no more chairs he grabbed a metal pipe that was on the ground and started swinging.
He connected hard with the podium that Jesse had set up. He knocked it over and continued beating it. He beat until it broke into large pieces. He beat it until it broke into a million splintering pieces. Then he threw the pipe as hard as he could. He fell to his knees as he heard the crash of it going through something glass.
Richie was tired, frustrated, and out of breath. He was drenched in sweat from exerting himself. He didn't care. He opened his mouth and let a long and agonizing scream.
"Feel better?"
Richie jumped back up and looked towards the direction of the voice. Duncan was standing in the doorway that Jesse had just left through moments before. He was resting against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest.
"How long have you been standing there?" Richie asked breathlessly.
"Long enough," Mac said. "Want to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" Richie asked turning away from him.
Mac pushed off the wall and walked over to the teen. "Maybe whatever it was that you and Jesse were discussing."
Richie turned to face him. "How did you find me anyways? Did you follow me or something?"
"Richie I've been alive for four hundred years. You don't think I learned how to track in that time?"
"Cities haven't been around that long."
"No, but I was around when they were built," Duncan shrugged. "I adapted."
Richie sighed. "What do you want Mac?"
"I want to know what's going on. What are you keeping from me?"
"Nothing Mac, it's just.I don't know. It's just I guess everything's catching up with me. That's all."
Duncan crossed his arms over his chest. "What's everything?"
Richie looked the Highlander in the eyes. He had that stubborn persistent look that meant he wasn't about to let this go. Richie knew he'd have to tell him something. So he settled for half truth.
"My past wasn't exactly peaches and creams. I wasn't the 'all American boy' that I wanted my father to be proud of. Some of my foster parents, they were cool. Others..they well they weren't so nice."
"So why is this all catching up to you now?"
"I don't know!" Richie yelled kicking the dirt. He threw his arms up in frustration. "I don't know." He said calmer. "Mac try to understand, this isn't easy for me."
"Then let me help you!" Duncan exclaimed. "You don't have to go through this alone."
Richie looked up at him with misty blue eyes. "Yes, I do. Please just try to understand. I have to get past this on my own."
Richie bit back the tears. It wasn't easy. He wanted to run into Mac's arms and tell him everything. Everything about the auctions and about the murder. Everything so that he could escape Jesse and everything he wanted to do.
"Richie..I"
"NO! Mac just," Richie fell to his knees.
Duncan was instantly kneeling next to him. "Richie, are you all right?" He asked worriedly.
Richie nodded. "I'm just tired."
Tired was an understatement. Richie had over exerted himself and was beyond exhausted. He wanted to go home, curl up in his bed and forget that this had ever happened.
"Come on," Mac said helping him up. "Let's get you home."
~*Bats eyelashes* Pretty please review!!
~~~ Richie walked into the old warehouse out of the pouring rain. He was drenched from head to toe. It was cold out, but he wasn't worried about it. He had been a lot colder with a lot less clothes for along time before now.
The warehouse had been condemned after a large fire broke out. Richie had been about ten at the time. Now seven years later it still looked burnt and broken. Time apparently didn't change everything. Including some people.
Richie walked through the rubble. He remembered the first time he had been brought there and suddenly things seemed very cold. Much colder than it had been a minute ago and it wasn't the kind of cold any amount of blankets could warm.
*Flashback 5 years ago*
A twelve year old Richie Ryan was shoved roughly into the warehouse. Dirt clung to his tiny body so badly that his blond curls looked brown. He looked up angrily at the man who had thrown him down.
"Get up brat," Jesse yelled. He would have kicked the boy but he needed him healthy and unharmed. He'd get more money for him that way.
Richie slowly got to his feet and brushed the dirt off his pants. Jesse grabbed his jacket and dragged him over to a chair. He threw him towards it causing Richie to stumble into it.
"Sit down and keep your mouth shut!"
Richie did as he was told, keeping a death glare on Jesse. He'd been living with him for a little over two months. Richie didn't like Jesse. The man barely fed him and didn't buy Richie anything he needed. For the last two months all Jesse did was complain about money and teach Richie the 'tricks of the trade'.
Jesse had taught the young boy all about breaking in and out of places. He had taught Richie how to cut glass and get past motion detectors. He went so far as to show him how to hot wire a car even though the boy didn't know how to drive.
Tonight was supposed to be Richie's first night in the field. Some people were supposed to take him home with them and after they fell asleep Richie was supposed to steal the most expensive thing he could find and sneak back to the warehouse where Jesse would be waiting for him.
Richie didn't feel right about it, but Jesse had threatened to hurt him if he didn't do what the older man said. Richie believed that Jesse would hurt him. He'd already hit him a few times when Richie didn't do something to his satisfaction.
Richie sat in his chair and watched as people began to shuffle in. Some came as couples, others were single. There were tall people, short people, men and women and they all had one thing in common. They were all wearing expensive clothes and expensive jewelry. They were all rich.
Make that two things they had in common. All of them were staring at young Richie. The boy swallowed a lump in his throat. He wasn't sure he like the way they were looking at him.
*End Flashback*
"Still looks the same doesn't it?" A voice said bringing him back to the present.
Jesse was standing in the shadows about five feet away. Lightning flashed on Jesse's dark figure making him look like some sort of mad man out of a horror flick. Richie didn't argue the fact that he was a madman.
Jesse stepped out of the shadows and began walking towards Richie. The teen didn't move towards him, but he didn't back away either. He held his ground despite the growing fear in the pit of his stomach.
"Although you, young Richie, you have changed. You're more hansom now then before." Jesse walked behind him. He put his hands on Richie's shoulders and began gently massaging them.
Richie didn't like it, but he didn't pull away.
"You're not as scrawny as before," Jesse continued. He moved his hands to Richie's chest and put his head on the teens shoulder. "You could make us a whole lot of money with this body."
Richie jerked away and Jesse laughed. Richie turned to face the older man. The pleasure Jesse got out of this made Richie stomach churn.
"That's not what we're here for Jesse!"
"Well actually it is."
Richie's jaw dropped. "What are you talking about? You said I was here to help you pull a job!"
"You are," Jesse concurred. "But in order to pull the job I need you to get into their house. Get close to them!"
Richie felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn't go through that again. He couldn't be rented out for the night. "Forget it!"
Jesse walked up so that there faces were extremely close. So close that Richie could feel the warmth of Jesse's breath blowing over his own face. Being this close was extremely uncomfortable, but he didn't move.
"You can either do this or I can go and tell your nice little family all about your dirty little past." Jesse pulled back. "Who knows, the sex stuff they might not mind." He smiled. "But what about the man you killed."
Richie's heart started to beat rapidly. Jesse was the only person who knew about that. If Mac ever found out he'd never even look at him. He'd hate him. Richie couldn't handle that, but he couldn't handle spending a night with those people either. He was torn between the two most horrible choices in the world.
Jesse could see the dilemma in the boys face. He knew how much Richie hated the 'auction', but Jesse made a lot of money off of it. He had been real upset when Richie ran off. Now was his chance to get him back. He was going to make the teen pay for taking a way the best source of income he'd ever had and he was going to enjoy ever minute of it.
"I'll tell you what," Jesse said with an evil grin. "I've got a few errands to run. Meet me back here tomorrow morning at ten. If you don't show up, I'll assume you've declined the offer."
"I have to work tomorrow." Richie told him.
"Well then I suggest you play sick. If you don't show up, I'm going to make an unexpected trip to an antique shop." Jesse started walking towards the door. "See ya later slick."
Richie sighed. He didn't know what to do. In one hand he either had to revert to his past. The past he dreaded and swore he'd never revert to again. On the other his past came back to haunt him and he would lose the two people who meant more to him than anything in the world. (Not that he'd ever admit it, but he still knew it was true).
No matter which path he took he got hurt. Either way he wound up walking with the devil. He looked around and for the first time he noticed that the some of the chairs were still there. The same plastic white chairs that had been there since he was twelve. They were a little dirtier now, but they were still the same.
Suddenly he was extremely, completely, totally, and utterly angry. He couldn't think of any other way to put it. He hated Jesse. He hated what he was doing. He hated what he was going to have to do.
Richie stormed over and grabbed one of the chairs. He lifted high over his head and threw it as far as it could. Being that it was plastic it didn't do much but bounce of the wall. Richie continued to grab chair after chair and throw them. When there were no more chairs he grabbed a metal pipe that was on the ground and started swinging.
He connected hard with the podium that Jesse had set up. He knocked it over and continued beating it. He beat until it broke into large pieces. He beat it until it broke into a million splintering pieces. Then he threw the pipe as hard as he could. He fell to his knees as he heard the crash of it going through something glass.
Richie was tired, frustrated, and out of breath. He was drenched in sweat from exerting himself. He didn't care. He opened his mouth and let a long and agonizing scream.
"Feel better?"
Richie jumped back up and looked towards the direction of the voice. Duncan was standing in the doorway that Jesse had just left through moments before. He was resting against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest.
"How long have you been standing there?" Richie asked breathlessly.
"Long enough," Mac said. "Want to talk about it?"
"Talk about what?" Richie asked turning away from him.
Mac pushed off the wall and walked over to the teen. "Maybe whatever it was that you and Jesse were discussing."
Richie turned to face him. "How did you find me anyways? Did you follow me or something?"
"Richie I've been alive for four hundred years. You don't think I learned how to track in that time?"
"Cities haven't been around that long."
"No, but I was around when they were built," Duncan shrugged. "I adapted."
Richie sighed. "What do you want Mac?"
"I want to know what's going on. What are you keeping from me?"
"Nothing Mac, it's just.I don't know. It's just I guess everything's catching up with me. That's all."
Duncan crossed his arms over his chest. "What's everything?"
Richie looked the Highlander in the eyes. He had that stubborn persistent look that meant he wasn't about to let this go. Richie knew he'd have to tell him something. So he settled for half truth.
"My past wasn't exactly peaches and creams. I wasn't the 'all American boy' that I wanted my father to be proud of. Some of my foster parents, they were cool. Others..they well they weren't so nice."
"So why is this all catching up to you now?"
"I don't know!" Richie yelled kicking the dirt. He threw his arms up in frustration. "I don't know." He said calmer. "Mac try to understand, this isn't easy for me."
"Then let me help you!" Duncan exclaimed. "You don't have to go through this alone."
Richie looked up at him with misty blue eyes. "Yes, I do. Please just try to understand. I have to get past this on my own."
Richie bit back the tears. It wasn't easy. He wanted to run into Mac's arms and tell him everything. Everything about the auctions and about the murder. Everything so that he could escape Jesse and everything he wanted to do.
"Richie..I"
"NO! Mac just," Richie fell to his knees.
Duncan was instantly kneeling next to him. "Richie, are you all right?" He asked worriedly.
Richie nodded. "I'm just tired."
Tired was an understatement. Richie had over exerted himself and was beyond exhausted. He wanted to go home, curl up in his bed and forget that this had ever happened.
"Come on," Mac said helping him up. "Let's get you home."
~*Bats eyelashes* Pretty please review!!