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.
Any inaccuracies in the first part are entirely the fault of my friends, none of whom have the decency to have ever been in the Geneva airport.
Alex Drake's Journal, March 17, 1996
You forget so many things over the course of a thousand years. Details like how to pay a cab driver. Bigger things, like languages that are no longer in use. How loud an airplane sounds as it flies overhead, coming in for a landing. The way people dressed and acted; the indefinable look and feel of a place, a time.
The main thought in my mind as we got out of the cab was that I'd forgotten what an airport looked like, and I had no idea where to search inside it for a man on the run.
"Alex, wait, we need to pay him."
Alex looked back as Duncan turned to him, standing in the cab's open door. "Oh, right," he said, and fished in his pocket for the money Time Force had provided all of them with. He held out a handful of bills for Duncan to take, and then looked up. There was a flash of silver and a deep roar as an airplane, flying low, crossed the sky.
"For all we know, Methos is on that plane. The 1996 Methos," Duncan murmured.
"We'll keep our Methos from getting to him here," Alex muttered, half to himself. "Jen and Lucas are at the hospital; Trip and Katie at the ships." The only place they didn't have covered was Methos' hotel room, since they still didn't know where it was. "You want to stick together or split up?" he asked.
"This was - is - a small airport. We can cover it in twenty minutes. Stick together."
They approached the doorway and went through, eying the travelers hurrying across the terminal entrance area. The large room was busy but not crowded, echoing with the sound of voices speaking French, German, Italian, English, other languages harder to identify. Alex looked around carefully, but there was nothing out of the ordinary, only check-in counters, people, and luggage. "If he's here, we should sense him," he said softly.
"Yes. The logical place for him to wait would be arrivals, the exit from the secure area."
"Where's that?"
"Outside customs, I guess... Come on." Duncan pointed to a sign in French, and then led the way to a stairway and down into a long, wide corridor bustling with people. He touched Alex's arm again, and nodded at a display listing flight arrivals. "Flights from Paris are pretty frequent," he said. "There's one that landed a few minutes ago. Another in an hour."
"And we don't know which one... But probably Methos doesn't remember, either. He'll have to wait for each one, just like us. Assuming he's even here, and not just waiting in his hotel room."
"No, I think he's here. He's always tried to avoid contact with most other Immortals. If he - 1996 Methos - senses an Immortal in his room, no telling what he might do. Call the cops, or just run... No, here in the airport, our Methos is sure to be able to get close enough to talk to him."
"And we've got to get there first. Stop him. Which means meeting every flight from Paris."
"It's not that bad; all the passengers from France should have to go through customs and come out this way."
"Do you think he'll be there? Or will he try to get through security?"
"I don't think he'd take the risk. Methos doesn't like risk, and he doesn't like being conspicuous. He'll wait with the other people meeting passengers. Come on."
They had just come into sight of a small group of people just outside a wide doorway marked with a sign reading 'Defense D'Entrer' with the same 'Do Not Enter' warning repeated in English, German, and Italian. They came closer, then stopped abruptly as he felt it. Alex glanced at Duncan, who met his eyes and gave a slight nod. The buzz... There was another Immortal here. Methos. But which one? Or both?
"Look!"
There he was. Among the people waiting, one man who stiffened and turned around, Methos' face filling with surprise and alarm before he slid into the crowd and disappeared. Duncan broke into a run, pushing past startled travelers. Alex hesitated for a moment, feeling a disturbing echo - the touch of another Immortal - he glanced at the ragged trail of people coming out of the doorway, catching a glimpse of that familiar face again. Methos, the other one, just starting to look around as he sensed it too. Alex backed away, turned, and darted after Duncan's retreating back.
"This way!" Duncan called before turning a corner. The chase continued past more people, thankfully no security guards in sight... They dashed through another doorway and came to a stop. The hall in front of them was empty and looked unused, the carpeting threadbare, probably not one of the usual passenger areas.
"Where did he go?"
"Don't know..." With a quick wish that their ability to sense each other included a directional signal, Alex pointed to a stairway leading up. "That's the only way he could have gotten out of sight so quickly. Come on."
"Right behind you."
The echo of running feet in the stairwell led them up past the next level, and then stopped. The floor above seemed deserted, but Alex's senses told him Methos must be nearby. They both took a few steps forward, tensely glancing around. This part of the airport consisted of a short hallway into what looked like a reception area, complete with an empty desk. Several rooms opened off it, a few doors ajar to reveal large tables, chairs, a podium or two.
"Looks like a conference center," Alex murmured, keeping his voice low. "The airport probably rents these rooms for business meetings."
"Lucky it's empty."
"It's a Sunday evening... He's got to be around here somewhere."
Silently, they separated to circle the room. Alex moved slowly, concentrating. He could almost imagine that he could reach out with his senses, turn that faint tingling buzz he felt into a signal he could follow. Was it a little stronger here? So hard to tell... The sensation must be controllable; he could tune out the presence of an Immortal he was around for any length of time, as he was doing now with Duncan... He stopped and closed his eyes, trying to let instinct guide him. Here...
There was sound, a chair falling. Alex opened his eyes to see movement. Methos ran from one of the conference rooms, heading for an exit, Duncan shouting as he started after him. Alex was closer - with a few long strides he cut Methos off, and whirled to face him. Duncan stopped too, and together they began to close in as their quarry backed up until he was pressed against the wall.
"We know what you're trying to do," Duncan said quietly. "There's no way you can get to him now. Give up. It's over."
"Not yet, it's not," Methos said, an almost savage snarl twisting his lips. He reached into a jacket pocket and pulled out a short black cylinder. Alex knew what it must be, and was proven right when a glimmer of silver light sparked at its end and grew into a gleaming blade.
"Don't do this," Duncan said. "I know you don't want to fight us."
"You give me no choice."
In another moment Duncan had an energy sword of his own in his hand. He held it up and across his body in a defensive posture, and advanced a step. "I don't want to hurt you," he said softly, "but I will stop you."
"Are you willing to kill me for this? Are you so determined to keep Alexa from living?"
"No one's killing anyone today." Alex stepped forward, gesturing Duncan back and raising his arm. At the touch of a button, he felt the old, familiar surge of power and energy burst into him and over him, as if a glowing stream of electricity was being poured over his skin. It took only a moment... both Methos and Duncan were staring, wide-eyed, as it faded, leaving him in the red and white of his Time Force Ranger suit. With another quick gesture he summoned his chrono-saber, the familiar handle of the weapon fitting so perfectly into his hand, even after all these years.
Methos fell back a step as he started forward. "This hardly seems like a fair fight!" he protested.
"It's not meant to be fair. I have no intention of taking your head, just of disarming you without anyone getting hurt." Alex moved again, raising the saber, waiting for his opponent to make a move.
And it came, Methos slashing at him with a sideways sweep. The two blades clanged together with a bright spark that betrayed their energy-generated nature. Alex blocked the blow easily and was ready for the next, a thrust at his shoulder. With a quick twist of the arm, he deflected it. Again, a sweep at his legs, parried into the floor. He turned as Methos circled him, and saw Duncan move between them and the exit.
"Very brave, the two of you against me!" Methos cried, his voice vibrating with anger.
"We have no choice either."
"No choice? Let me do what I came to do! All I want is to save a life!"
"The price of that life is too high." Alex stepped back, lowering his saber. "I'm sorry, I really am. I know how it feels to lose someone you care for."
"Is that why you saved your father's life?" Methos was shouting now. He raised his sword again threateningly. "You didn't worry about changing history when you took a regenerator to 2001, did you? Not when it was someone you wanted to save! All your rules about the timeline didn't matter then, did they?"
"It wasn't like that-"
"Liar! You come after me - you attack me - to stop me from doing the same thing you did!"
"It wasn't the same!" Alex's shout stopped the outburst, at least for a moment. "Methos, just listen to me," he went on more calmly. "When Ransik went to 2001, he did several things to alter history. One of them was to attack my father. Ransik was the one who injured him, and almost killed him. In the original timeline, Dad was meant to live another thirty years, just as he did after I used the regenerator to save his life. All I did was put things back the way they were supposed to be, the way they would have been without interference."
Methos only glared at him, breathing heavily. "If I was so willing to change history," Alex went on, "don't you think I would have saved Eric, too? He died because of me, because he was trying to protect me. I've never stopped wishing I could have prevented it. There are others, too, many of them. But I know I can't risk altering the timeline for them; as much as I want to, I don't have the right to endanger an entire world. Neither do you. I can't do anything to change their fates, just as you can't change Alexa's."
"Please, old friend, give this up." Duncan's voice was pleading, his hand outstretched, his sword gone into a harmless cylinder again. "You know us. You know me. If there was any way to let you do this safely, I'd be right at your side."
"I don't believe you! You'd say anything to stop me!" But there was doubt in Methos' face now, and it quivered in his voice.
"And why do you think we would, if not because it's so important? It's all true. And I think you know it. You want to save Alexa so much, you've persuaded yourself it's possible, but you must know in your heart it isn't."
"There has to be a way! I can't give up, I can't let her die, not when there's a way to prevent it! Can't you see that?"
"If that's the way you feel," Duncan said, stepping forward, arms down by his sides, "if Alexa is all you care about, then go ahead. Take my head. I'm unarmed now; I won't stop you." His voice strengthened. "Kill me, because that's the only way I'll let you do this."
Methos stared at him, pale and with an expression full of both anger and uncertainty. Alex moved back and watched them, waiting while silence filled the room for a few seconds, the struggle inside Methos clearly reflected on his face.
"Don't be so dramatic; you know damn well I'm not going to take your head." Methos' voice was sharp, but defeated. He seemed to sag, his shoulders slumping, the sword lowering to rest against the floor. "Damn. Is there no hope for her? No way to save her? No way at all?"
"I wish there was," Alex answered sincerely.
"I've made a mess of things, haven't I?"
"Only a little around the edges," Duncan said with a half-smile.
"All right," Methos said, almost in a whisper. He closed his eyes, putting out a hand to lean against the wall, turning his face away, head bowed. Alex and Duncan glanced at each other, and waited. After a few moments, the ancient Immortal dipped a hand into his pocket again. This time, it came out with a faintly glowing sphere. Without looking at them, he held it out.
"Thanks," Alex said. He took it, looking into the gleaming surface before putting it away.
"You've convinced me." Methos was looking at them again, his face drawn but calm and resigned. "I accept that I can't change history. I'll come back with you. But... I have one favor to ask first."
"That's the room." Methos stopped, his back tensely hunched, then straightening. "I still remember it."
"Go on," Duncan said softly, dropping an arm around his friend's shoulders in support. "Take as much time as you need."
Jen hung back, respecting their privacy, Alex at her side. The hospital hallway was almost empty, the lights dimmed for night, only a nurses' station in the distance, the faint sound of footsteps as some doctor or attendant hurried to their destination, caring for another patient.
She had accepted Alex's invitation to go inside with them, she wasn't sure exactly why. Lucas had decided to return to the ships. They had waited for the 1996 version of Methos to leave, watched him from a distance as he walked slowly away and disappeared into the streets of Geneva. Then they had gone in. Methos had had no trouble gaining admittance by claiming he had changed his mind and wanted to stay longer, and had convinced the nurse-receptionist to allow the rest of them in too, aided by Duncan's considerable charm.
As for why they were doing this... only a glance at Methos' face answered that. She watched as he moved stiffly to the room door, and opened it. Inside, she caught a glimpse of the too-thin form of a woman who might once have been pretty, looking pitifully small and frail on a hospital bed. Without a glance back, Methos closed the door behind him.
"Will he be all right?" Alex asked as Duncan joined them.
"Yes. He'll survive. He always does."
"He didn't know her very long, did he?" Jen asked. "He's so old, known so many people, been with so many women too, I'm sure. How could this woman be so important to him? So special? Why does he remember her, out of all the rest?" She had expected Duncan to answer, but he only shrugged and took a few steps away from them to stand looking out a window.
"Love doesn't always make sense," Alex's voice said beside her. "Maybe their relationship was more intense because they both knew it wouldn't last. Because they both wanted every moment together to be a good one."
"Not like us, was it?" She saw his eyes flicker to her face. "I mean, there were plenty of times we got on each other's nerves. Argued. Times we didn't like each other."
"I always liked you, Jen. Even before I loved you."
"Kind of hard to believe, with the way I acted sometimes."
"You acted like a woman who had just lost her fiancé and been stranded in a strange time on an impossible mission. I admired you for it."
"I didn't feel very admirable a lot of the time. I know I pushed too hard. Sometimes I felt so angry and frustrated, and I took it out on all of you. Can't blame you and the others for getting annoyed with me."
"Sometimes we needed a push. Especially me." Alex was smiling gently.
Jen found herself smiling, too, but another thought made the expression fade. "Then, when we first met at Time Force... Did you - did you remember me? I mean, it was a thousand years later for you."
"Do you remember when we said goodbye on the beach in 2001? What you said when you gave me your badge?"
"Of course I do..."
"Don't ever forget me."
"Never could."
"And I didn't forget you, Jen. Even after the picture of you I carried turned to dust, I could still remember your face. We Immortals tend to have good memories but..." He smiled again. "It was more than that."
Could it be possible his feelings for her had lasted over all those years? That he had loved her all along? How could any emotion survive that vast expanse of time and experience? And yet, the proof that it could happen was standing on the other side of that hospital room door. But... what had she done, what qualities did she have, that a man like Alex - like Wes, she reminded herself - would find her so unforgettable?
"And did you...?" she began hesitantly.
"What?"
She couldn't ask what she wanted to know. 'Did you love me for a thousand years? Do you love me now? Did you wait for me?' Other, more uncomfortable thoughts. 'How many women have there been for you? How many have you cared for? How many did you love?' A sharp and surprising prickle of jealousy accompanied that thought. Jen shook her head. "Nothing."
Alex's hand touched hers for a moment, his blue eyes - Wes's eyes - looked into hers deeply. "When we said forever, I meant it," he said very softly. He held her gaze, and then turned away.
I shouldn't have come. Shouldn't be going through this again. Methos stood over the bed, looking down, watching the slow rise and fall of Alexa's chest as she slept. Soon, even that sign of life would cease. This time he would not be here to see it, but it made no difference; the image rose before his eyes, as vivid as reality. The coldness of her hand in his, the glazed look in her eyes, the ragged sound of her breathing. The brightness of a tear sliding down her cheek as her lips moved one more time, only a faint whisper: I love you... He could only hope she had heard him say it back.
A blur then. The funeral arrangements. The services. A small group of mourners offering condolences he hardly heard. Nothing had seemed quite real until the day a few weeks later when he was standing over her grave with Duncan MacLeod, staring at a headstone that read 'Alexa Bond'. Her name. All that was left of her, except his memories. So, to keep those memories from ever fading, he had spoken of her.
The way Alexa had loved their time in Santorini. The way he had felt when he was with her, when he held her. The burden of knowing their time together would end so soon. The end - the strange sense of surprise he had felt when it came, when Alexa closed her eyes forever and he realized he hadn't been prepared, could never have been prepared. The way he missed her, and still wanted her near him. MacLeod had listened, as he always did.
She would close her eyes again in that inevitable moment, the moment a part of him had been trapped in for over a thousand years. He had moved on, picked up his life, even fallen in love again. And again. Alexa had been stored away in an almost forgotten corner of his mind, an image to be taken out and looked at sadly and lovingly once in a while, always with a pang of longing. Then Dory's death had brought back the pain, made it as sharp as when it first happened. Overburdened with a lifetime of losses, the accumulated grief of the deaths of so many people close to him, he had determined to erase this one, or at least to make the memory bearable.
But Alexa belonged here, in the past. It was time - not to forget her, but to remember the woman who had lived, and laughed, and loved with him, not the one who lay before him on that bed. Methos bent over her, his fingers lightly brushing her hair, stroking her cheek with a feather touch. "Goodbye, Alexa," he whispered.
In the hallway he saw them look at him, MacLeod's face full of concern and sympathy, Alex grave and solemn but his kindness showing through, Jen's eyes surprisingly warm. Methos closed the door behind him and took a step forward.
"Thank you, Duncan," he said. "Thanks, all of you. Now, if you don't mind, I would like to go home."
TBC...