Alex/Wes, Jen, Trip, Lucas, Katie and all other characters from Power Rangers belong to Disney/Saban. Methos and Duncan belong to Davis/Panzer Productions. I am using them without permission, however I have not and don't expect to make money from this.
Reviews are always appreciated.
Alex Drake's Journal, March 17, 1996
Oddly enough, it's almost a relief to have my secret revealed. Hiding something like that from the people closest to me was a burden I wasn't really aware of until now, when it's gone. Even with the shock and anger I saw in their faces, it's better to have it out in the open. Except... when I see Jen turning away from me.
"Ah, Methos, old friend, where are you? What are you doing?" It was just a soft mutter to himself. Duncan sighed as he reached another corner and looked down more streets, trying to pick out a familiar face among the strangers.
It had been hours. Methos had probably gone back to wherever he was staying. If he had any sense - which he did - he wouldn't come out again until he thought he had a chance to get past the Time Force officers and Duncan himself, and into the hospital. But when? Not right away; he'd know they'd be waiting. At night? Would he be able to get in? How tight was the hospital's security? If he had told the staff he was Alexa's husband, they might let him in at any time.
The hospital... He was only a few blocks away. No point in this wandering; Methos wouldn't be so easy to find. With another sigh, Duncan retraced the path he had taken with the others this morning, and turned into the hospital grounds, automatically scanning the faces of the people in sight, and then raising his gaze to the rows of windows in the building rising above him. Which one was Alexa behind? She was just one of the many people here who were sick and dying, one of the many personal dramas being played out inside those walls - but she was also a part of a greater conflict, one which could affect the fate of all these people around him, or rather their distant descendants.
There it was - the buzz at the back of his head, his Immortal sixth sense. Could it be Methos after all? Or... no, Alex stepped out from the trees, and waited for him to approach.
"Where have you been?" Alex's eyes were blue ice, the hard light of suspicion was back.
"Trying to reason with Methos."
"You saw him go, and didn't alert us?"
"I know." Duncan grimaced. "You're probably right, I should have kept him from leaving. I just thought maybe if I talked to him alone, I could change his mind without a fight."
"And?"
With a shrug, Duncan admitted, "Nothing. I caught up, and confronted him. He wouldn't listen. Damn, he even pulled a sword on me. He wasn't really trying to hurt me, just distract me and attract attention, and it worked. He ran. There was a crowd and the police, and I couldn't follow."
"Did you at least find out where he's living?"
"No." He held up a hand at Alex's angry expression. "You don't have to say it. I screwed up."
Alex glared at him for a moment, and then glanced farther into the trees, where Jen sat on a bench, not quite watching them. His shoulders slumped. "It was my fault more than yours," he finally said. "We're the ones who got distracted and let him get away."
"Well. That's not the point now, is it? What are we going to do about Methos?"
"Keep watch, both here and at the ships. Methos' whole reason to be here is in that hospital. He'll be back."
"Agreed." Duncan nodded decisively. "If it's okay with you, I'd like to stay here. Have another chance to talk to him, if he shows up."
"Not a bad idea. Jen can go back to the ship and get some rest."
As Alex started to turn away, Duncan stopped him with a touch on the arm. "How'd they take it?" he asked softly.
"As well as I could expect, I guess." Alex's eyes were on Jen.
"Is she... Are you...?"
"We were. It ended, for a few reasons." Alex sighed, glancing back at Duncan. "Things are never easy between a mortal and an Immortal... I'm sure you know that."
"I've been there a few times. Even if they can accept your Immortality, even if they can live with getting older while you stay the same..." He smiled, a little sadly. "Well, nothing can last forever, can it, mortal or not? I hope you work it out."
"I doubt it." Alex stared at Jen for only another moment before squaring his shoulders. "If you're staying here, I'll send her back to the ship. I'm sure she'll be glad to get away from here." And away from me, was what his expression clearly added.
Their emotions were so strong he could 'hear' them, like a soft whisper at the back of his mind, not that he needed Xybrian senses to know what they were feeling. The angry set of Lucas' mouth and the way Katie avoided his eyes were quite enough.
Trip tried a smile, but only got a glare from Lucas. He watched as his taller teammate turned his back and jabbed at a few more controls, then powered down the engine of their ship.
"I guess that's it," Lucas announced. "Both ships' security systems are locked to our morphers. No one can start either of them up except one of us."
"Good," Katie said. "So now what?"
"Now we wait." Lucas spun his seat around and crossed his arms. "And we have plenty of time to talk." He smiled, an expression that did nothing to reassure Trip.
Jen walked away from the hospital grounds, barely aware of the people passing her, staring blindly ahead with no real idea of where she was going, Alex's voice telling her to return to the ship slowly blending into other memories...
"After Ransik's locked up, it's you and me."
"What's the matter? You look like you've just seen a ghost."
"I'm sorry I was a little hard on you. You're excellent Rangers."
"Don't worry. Everything you've always wanted is waiting for you in the future."
"I don't want you to go. You could be destroyed."
"I love you too... I wish I could live a thousand years..."
Wes. Alex. It still hardly seemed real. And yet... now that she knew, she couldn't understand how she hadn't known from the start. Wes and Alex. Wes-Alex. Impossible not to think of them as different people. But...
She had known it couldn't possibly be Alex, and shoved that part of herself that had instinctively recognized him so far from the surface of her mind that it had never spoken up again except in vague whispers that she had dismissed as wishful thinking. Wes was so different in personality, after all, there could be no question of it.
Or could there? Were they really so different? Only on the surface, she realized now, only in the ways that would naturally change as a person grew up and lived a very long and difficult life. Alex was more serious than Wes, tougher, stronger. No, not stronger, they both had a core of inner resilience that had always kept them going. Alex was - harder, Wes was nicer, Alex was dependable, Wes could always make her laugh. Both were kind, generous, dedicated, loving, brave... Wes had been a boy when she had known him; Alex was a man. Like two sides of the same coin, their faces, light and dark, spun past each other in her mind, finally blending into one.
Home... or what had been home for a time, centuries ago. Methos heard the door click shut behind him and leaned against it, eyes closed. This was the hotel room where he had lived while Alexa suffered through her final weeks. Days spent in the hospital watching the woman he loved fade away into a painful death. He raised a hand to push trembling fingers through his hair. Why was it that out of all his memories, that one stayed so fresh and vivid? And why did it melt into another, more recent memory, of another dying face...
Was Duncan right, was he doing this because of Dory? Had her death pushed him over the edge, sent him on a dangerous fool's errand, trying to resurrect a love from the past? Couldn't claim he had always been a shining example of sanity throughout the millennia he'd survived, after all.
No... No, it was Alexa, had always been Alexa. It was important to remember her, to remember the times before, while she was still strong, when all that mattered was making sure the rest of her life would be filled with all the experiences, all the seeing, and hearing, and doing, that should have taken decades...
She was standing on the balcony of their hotel room, looking out over an ocean lit by the deep pinks and violets of a Greek sunset, back turned to him, her form outlined in fading light, her arms crossed and shoulders slightly hunched.
"Enjoying the view?" he asked. As her head lifted, he stepped close behind her and encircled her waist with his arms, trying not to notice how tiny that waist had become, how he could feel every rib as she took a deep breath.
"It's beautiful. And the air smells so wonderful."
He nuzzled her hair. "Not as beautiful as you."
"Adam..." She turned in his arms and leaned her head against him. "You really shouldn't be doing all this for me. Spending all this money."
"I can afford it."
"And all this time... There must be other things you should be doing."
"Nothing as important as this. Look..." He waited until her face raised to his. "This is all really for me, you know. Seeing you here, watching you enjoy the places we've gone, the things we've seen, and..." he smiled, "the things we've done together... It's like starting over. Like seeing everything in the world through new eyes again."
She only smiled, reached up, and pulled his head down to hers...
There should have been no need for memories dimmed by a thousand years; Alexa could have been alive, well again, here with him right now, ready to relive those days and look forward to the future instead of dreading it, if only MacLeod and Alex hadn't interfered. He had to go back to her. But how? Mac and Alex wouldn't give up; they'd be waiting, along with their Ranger friends. Too many for him to fight, even if he'd been so inclined. He scrubbed his hand over his face and stared into the room blankly. Had to go back. Had to find a way. For Alexa.
"It was your Xybrian senses, wasn't it?" Katie's tone was accusing. "Did you know all along?"
Trip sighed inwardly. He had hoped - what? That Jen, Lucas, and Katie would never find out? No, he had hoped Alex would tell them himself someday, and that he'd never have to make the explanations he faced now.
"W-well," he started. "I kinda thought it was Alex when we saw Wes the first time at the shopping mall, after he saved Jen. Sorta thought I recognized his - his mind. But you have to understand, it's not like I was sure, it was like the way Wes looked like Alex, just weird, I didn't think it meant anything, but then when he could use the morpher I was kinda sure because that should be impossible-"
"You're babbling," Lucas said sternly.
"I know. I'm sorry." Trip folded his hands and looked down at them.
"So when Wes became the red Ranger, you were sure." Katie's voice was calmer, to his relief.
"Yeah, I guess. Took a while, but I figured the only possibility was that Alex was an Immortal and we were meeting him earlier in his life."
"Why didn't you tell any of us?"
"Wes had grown up in Silver Hills. He really was the age he seemed to be. I was pretty sure that he didn't even know it yet, that he hadn't - hadn't died the first time and turned Immortal yet. If he didn't know and I told him, that might change history. Besides, what good would it have done?" He looked up pleadingly. "It didn't make any difference that I could see. Would have just been confusing. It was confusing enough, just for me."
"Confusing?" Now Katie sounded just a little sympathetic.
"Yeah, sure, I mean things were bad enough with Ransik and everything, and I knew this big secret and couldn't talk about it to anyone... Even my best friends... I just tried to do the right thing the best I could and now you hate me..." He sniffled.
"Trip..." Katie shook her head, stood up, and the next moment pulled him into a crushing bear hug. "You poor thing!"
"Poor thing, my ass," Lucas muttered.
"Leave him alone, Lucas! Can't you see what he's been going through?"
"I can see he's got you wrapped around his little finger, just like always!"
Trip raised his head to find his two friends glaring at each other. "Come on, guys," he said helplessly. "We shouldn't be fighting each other!"
"He's right. Knock it off, both of you."
The quiet words were like ice water thrown on Lucas and Katie. All of them turned to face the doorway. Jen was standing there. Her eyes were puffy and moist with tears, her nose red, but the expression on her face was pure Time Force commander, firm and controlled.
"Jen? What are you doing here?"
"Duncan came back. He and Alex are covering the hospital. Alex wants us to get some rest, so we can relieve them later tonight." She advanced inside, found her usual seat, and paused, fingers brushing the chair back. After a moment she spoke again, not looking up. "I know we've all had a shock. We're upset. But we have a job to do here, an important one. We've already let our feelings interfere, and that's why Methos is still loose. After this is over, we can worry about - about what happened. Not now." Her eyes lifted to meet each of theirs, steady and dignified despite the traces of tears. "Do I make myself clear?"
There was a brief chorus of, "Yes, sir," from all three, before Jen sat and swiveled her chair away, hiding her face from them.
Methos paced the small room as if it was a prison. To the balcony, look out over the street below at the uncaring strangers walking by; back to the kitchen; stare around, look at the front door. Had to get to Alexa. But how? Again a doubt assailed him... was this all a mistake? Was he doing the right thing? Both Duncan and Alex were so set against it... In a moment of honesty he could no longer persuade himself that they were doing this without a good reason. Time, history, he had no right to change the course of events, not after the world of his own time had come so close to disaster because of Ransik's interference. The danger...
No. He couldn't let himself think that way. Alexa needed him. He had promised himself he'd find a way to save her, that day so long ago when the crisis they had been dreading had come...
He had heard the shower running when he woke up. It was twenty minutes later now; he was back from the kitchen after starting a pot of coffee. The water was still going. Alexa never took this long. Heart starting to pound, he knocked on the door, heard his name called faintly, opened it to find her on the cold floor, struggling to get up.
Despite her protests he insisted on the hospital, but gave in when she asked him to drive. "No sirens, no ambulance. No fuss." He drove too fast, parked haphazardly in front of the emergency entrance. Almost before the engine stopped he was out, helping her up, then lifting her into his arms. She felt no heavier than a feather, so thin and light she seemed insubstantial.
At the door she stopped him, eyes raised to his in appeal. "Put me down. I want to walk in. And I don't want a stretcher or a gurney. I want to sit in a chair and sign the forms myself."
He hesitated, but only for a moment, before setting her on her feet, a supportive arm around her waist. He knew she needed this last gesture of independence and choice, before control of her own life was taken from her forever.
Alexa. So brave. She had always had more courage than anyone he knew, especially himself. Maybe she had faced her own death with quiet resignation, but he never had. Even when it had become a memory, he had never accepted it. And now, he wouldn't have to... if he could find a way back into that hospital...
"I don't like it..."
Duncan looked up at the sound of Alex's voice. The other Immortal was sitting on the bench next to him, outwardly relaxed, but his face was tense with worry. "Like it or not, nothing we can do but wait," he said.
"Sooner or later someone's going to notice how long we've been here, and get suspicious."
Duncan sighed. "Do you have any better ideas?"
"No." Alex drummed his fingers impatiently on the wooden back of the bench. "We don't have unlimited time. The longer we're here, the more chance that we'll do some kind of damage."
"Damage? What do you mean?"
"We could accidentally do something that would alter the timeline. Never know when one of us might say the wrong thing to the wrong person, or just be in the wrong place. Plus some of us - you, me, and Methos - have previous versions in this time. We have to avoid coming into contact with them."
"I was in Seacouver and Paris in 1996. Not Geneva. Not much chance of bumping into myself. And I assume you were living in Silver City."
"It was Silver Hills, then. Yes. Not much danger for the two of us. But Methos... What was his name then? Now?"
"Adam Pierson."
"Right. He was staying here. You said he's in Paris right now, but sooner or later he'll be back for Alexa. Damn." Alex's hand balled into a fist. "How are we even going to know which is the former Methos and which is the one from 3001? We can't afford to interfere with the one who belongs in this time. We have to find him, and soon."
"You're right." Duncan stared at him. "Methos was only in Paris for a few days. He could be back at any time. In fact..." He jumped to his feet, suddenly electrified by alarm. "I have an idea. Do you have any coins?"
"Yeah, Time Force provided us with money, just in case..." Alex reached into his pocket.
"Wait here. I'm going to make a call."
After a quick look around, he realized the best place to find a public telephone was inside the hospital. Once there, he also realized he didn't remember the phone number. Mumbling curses, he followed the instructions printed on the phone and his own dim memories of how to use it, and soon was talking to an operator and realizing just how long it had been since he had last spoken French.
"Je veux un numero de telephone en Paris, s'il vous plaît. Oui, merci."
It was only after the number had been found and the call went through, when Joe Dawson's voice answered, that it hit him. A wave of nostalgia so strong it was physically painful swept over Duncan, for a moment closing his throat and blurring his vision. Joe, once one of his closest friends, Joe who had known more about him than perhaps anyone before or since. Joe, his Watcher, who had died almost a thousand years ago.
"Mac? Are you there?" the familiar voice repeated in his ear, impatience creeping into it.
"Yes. Yes, Joe, I'm here," Duncan managed.
"Well, why don't you speak up, then? Is something wrong?"
"Wrong... Uh... Joe, it's Methos. Adam." Duncan took a deep breath and tried to concentrate. "Have you heard from him?"
"Not today." Joe's voice sharpened with curiosity. "Didn't you see him off to the airport an hour ago? What's going on?"
"Nothing. Nothing at all."
"You sound strange. Something's happened, hasn't it?"
"No, I - I wasn't sure if he went straight to the airport."
"Mac..."
"Forget it. Like I said, it's nothing."
There was a pause, then a reluctant, "If you say so. Anything else I can do for you?"
"No. That's it. Joe..."
"Yeah?"
Duncan hesitated, head bowed, the phone clutched in his hand. So much he wanted to say, but couldn't. How do you tell someone how much you miss him, when you can't say why? When as far as he's concerned, you saw each other yesterday. Finally he sighed. "It's good to talk to you again."
The voice on the other end was puzzled and slightly amused. "You sound like you haven't seen me in years. Look, I gotta go. See you later."
"Yeah. Goodbye, Joe." Slowly, he hung up, allowing himself a few seconds before he faced the next step.
There wasn't much time. Methos stopped his pacing and stood uncertainly. In 1996 he had gone to Paris in a last attempt to change Alexa's fate by recovering the Methuselah stone. The legend is that whoever holds the stone can never be defeated. That hadn't worked, and had almost resulted in his own death. Afterwards he had returned to Geneva, resigned to losing her, and gone back to the hospital.
He stopped under the trees surrounding the building's front entrance, suddenly dreading the thought of entering that dreary room to see her lying there. Would she be even thinner? Frailer? How could he face her, after failing to find a way to save her? Would she even hear him, even know him? But as he contemplated just turning around and leaving, he knew there was no real choice. He was in this until the end, until the brief flicker that was Alexa's life was gone.
He had cut it too close. His former self would be returning soon. Today, in fact. He would come back, and go to that hospital, stop in front and think about it, then walk inside and up to see Alexa, finding her weaker than ever, drugged against the pain, so sick that her death a few days later would be a relief...
And that was when the answer hit him.
Alex got to his feet as Duncan returned, both his fast pace and the set of his face clearly broadcasting trouble. "What is it?" he demanded.
"The 1996 Methos is coming back today. Now. He should be arriving at the Geneva airport in an hour or two."
"But..."
"Yeah. How will we know which is which?"
"Wait." Alex thought a moment, examining his idea before looking up. "One of us can go to the airport. Spot him when he arrives and tail him. Might even lead us to where he's staying."
"That could work."
"I'll go. In this time, he doesn't know me."
"Yeah. Then, when he comes here..." Duncan trailed off, his mouth opening soundlessly.
"What? What's wrong?" Alex asked, alarm trickling down his spine.
"I just realized what Methos, our Methos, is going to try. The only way for him to get that regenerator past us to save Alexa. He knows we can't interfere with his past self. He knows we'll let 1996 Methos go right into the hospital."
"So?"
"So... What if he gives the regenerator to himself?"
"Shit!" Alex stared at him. "He could meet himself at his hotel, or at the airport. Tell himself what's going on."
"Hand over the regenerator. Then come back here and turn himself in. We'd leave before 1996 Methos even gets here. He must be hoping we wouldn't figure out what's going on until it's too late."
"He saves Alexa - and contaminates the timeline even more by letting his former self know about time travel, and maybe about his own future."
"We have to get to the airport first, stop them from meeting."
Alex reached for his morpher. "Get a cab. I'll call Jen."
TBC...