As Robert and Gina raced into the hospital entryway, they noted the fearful expressions on the faces of the mortals camped out there.
Robert whispered to Gina. "Stay here and assuage their fears. I'll check this out."
"Be careful my love," Gina said just before he kissed her. He intended to be very careful. He could feel multiple immortal signatures along one corridor… and while Gina's sword might be a welcome back-up… they also had the mortals to consider.
Tentatively opening the double doors to the darkened corridor… only the security lights flickered on and off and he could see electrical equipment still sparking from the massive Quickening. He positioned his sword as he eased down the hallway.
Upon finding a mortal woman in nurse's clothing, he made certain she was all right, calmed her and indicated that she should join the others at the hospital entrance.
She took one look at his sword, nodded and and raced up the hallway. Robert slowly opened the doors of the ward.
He gasped as noticed in the flickering light, about twenty immortals in hospital gowns… looking pale and thin… gathering in a huddle. At the center he could hear screaming.
Robert licked his lips. "The sleepers have evidently awakened," he said quietly, and wondered what their mental state was. He'd known of them… and that the survivors whose Quickenings had been drained were kept here and watched over by the resident immortals… but he hadn't truly understood or worried about them.
Amdist the screams he could a male voice asking for calm and for the others to back up. His pleas seemed to be falling on deaf ears.
Some of the ones on the outer circle turned to stare at Robert blankly.
"How did I…?"
"Where am I?"
"What's happened?"
"Who are you?
"Where's my sword?"
The questions began to be addressed to Robert as well as to the immortals in their midst.
Robert lowered his weapon, uncertain what to say or how to answer the questions. He noted the body of one of them… headless on a bed. He didn't know her… but even in the dim light, he could see the long red hair tangled about her head. She must have been a rare beauty in her time
Gina seemed to see through his eyes. Françesca she seemed to say within his mind.
You know her?
Françesca Corolli. Long ago… before I met you. She was from ancient Rome, I think… or perhaps Etruscan. Gina seemed to almost sob and then was silent.
Robert turned back toward the others, looking into their frightened eyes as he tried to see anyone he knew… anyone he might reach. But he knew none of them.
"Please, everyone," the man at the center of the group was saying. "I can explain everything… just get back. She can't help you." He met Robert's gaze. "If you can help… do so!" He pulled the whimpering female to her feet and pushed through the crowd. "Get her out of here. She can't help them and she has no idea what she's done." He pushed the woman into Robert's arms and then turned back to meet the pleas and hands of the others.
Supporting the female in his arms, Robert stepped out once more into the deserted corridor. He backed her up to one wall and tried to get her attention. Words didn't work so he grasped her chin in one hand while the other, still holding his sword, was pressed against her chest. "Who are you? How did you get here?"
She screamed and closed her eyes as she shuddered in his hands. Robert sheathed his sword in his coat and clasped both of her arms.
"Who are you? I won't hurt you! What's happened here?"
Hearing the doubledoors leading to the lobby he open… he saw Pierson come racing through. The man slowed to a stop as he saw the female Robert was holding. "Sarah?" he said.
She responded to his voice… or perhaps to his use of her name. She turned toward him, struggling to get free. "Thank God, Ben! You're here! He made me tell him where you might be… I didn't want to do it!"
Robert stepped away from her and watched as she flew into Pierson's arms. He looked surprised and then concerned. He held her a moment and then stepped back, holding her lightly on the arms. "Kingsley? Is that who brought you? Whay does he want me?"
"Not you," she insisted as she shook her head. "He wants some immortal you know named Gerard." She struggled to clasp him close. He let her while he looked about. "What happened here?" he asked Robert.
"I think she killed one of the sleepers. They're awake. There's an immortal in there now trying to calm them down."
"It was horrible," Sarah burst out. "They were just lying there. They were prisoners. I didn't mean to kill one… just that black immortal who wouldn't talk to me. Then they woke up and came for me. Oh Ben… hold me. I've so wanted you to hold me."
Pierson held her but Robert could see his face. He wasn't happy. Then Pierson pushed her back. "I have to check on how Carl is handling the others. Robert… take Sarah to the lobby. Wait there with Gina. Be careful. There may be another immortal still about." He released Sarah and entered the ward.
Robert grabbed Sarah's arm as she tried to follow Pierson. "Come with me." He pulled her along to the lobby where Gina was calming the mortals down and soothing their concerns. He noticed the middle-aged constable who was especially concerned.
"Is the doctor taking care of things?" the constable asked. More quietly he whispered in Robert's ear. "My name is Nikos. I know something of your kind. Please… how can I help."
"The doctor is seeing to things now," Robert replied with a smile, hoping that he meant Pierson. "The main thing is to calm everyone. Is there someplace else they can go?"
The constable shook his head, "They are refugees from the tsunami. They lost their homes and the patron said they could remain here until their homes were fixed."
Robert sighed and looked around. "Please… everyone. It's all right. It was a freak electrical outage of some equipment."
"What about the eruption on the volcana?" asked one woman. "I never saw anything like it."
There was a general murmur and Robert heard something about a freak storm about twelve years before and several others agreeing.
"I'm certain it's fine," Robert assured them. "After all… the volcano is extinct. Perhaps someone was just setting off…"
A cry went up from many of them. Robert turned, feeling the arrival of another immortal. His eyes widened slightly as he saw an immortal he had only briefly met when he and Gina had been rescued.
Cries of "Patron!" went up. Then this would be the one called Phillip, thought Robert.
Phillip threaded through the crowd. "Robert de Valicourt?" he asked. Robert nodded. Then he turned toward Sarah. "He's dead and can't hurt you," he said flatly. Then he looked at the hallway. Looking back at Robert he asked sharply. "Who's with Carl?"
"Pierson," replied Robert, rightly assuming Carl must be the black immortal.
"Wait here," Phillip said in a clipped tone, and pushed through the doors.
-----
Once he reached the ward and the confusion there, Phillip sighed deeply and stepped to Methos' side. "Could you use some help?"
Methos smirked at him. "Have you been to the villa? Eleanor is worried sick about you!"
Phillip shrugged. "I stopped on the way back. She's worried about you… afraid someone threatening was here."
"Sarah Manning," replied Methos quietly.
"Oh," Phillip chuckeled. "that ought to be interesting." He turned toward the newly-awakened immortals. "I have a feeling they're hungry. What say I get food services up and running." With a lift in his step, he headed out the door. "And what should I do about Ms. Manning?"
Methos sighed as he shook his head. He had no idea what to do with her. Right now, he needed to focus on the immortals here as he continued trying to answer the questions of the awakened sleepers. Carl was beginning to make some headway as he explained his own experience to them. Some of them had been unconsious closer to twenty years, having been among some of Henry Rawlins' early victims. Others had lost only the last twelve years of their lives. Somehow… it would work itself out.
-----
Hours later, flush with the aftermath of love and still entangled in Eleanor's embrace in their bed, Methos finally felt that he was at last home, and he had no plans to leave again anytime soon… no matter what. "I'm sorry I couldn't find him," he murmured finally, almost hating to spoil the mood. He laced his fingers with Eleanor's and held her bare arm up so that he could kiss the soft area where her arm bent at the elbow.
"Derrick or Duncan?" she replied.
"Both, I guess."
"Well… Duncan's a big boy. He'll be in touch when he can. Besides, I have a feeling Amanda won't give up until she finds him."
"And Derrick?"
Eleanor was silent a moment. Then she shifted in his embrace and settled once more into his arms. A momentary flare of a shared memory as her leg rubbed against his made him smile. They were in Scotland and he'd been teaching Derrick to ride horses. Eleanor had been sitting on the fence watching them both. "Derrick isn't a boy. We have to trust that he knows what he's doing. We have to let the child we knew go… so that the man might yet find a way back to us."
"Can you do that?"
She sighed and was quiet for a moment. "Do I have a choice?" she laughed. "The real focus for a while will have to be on the sleepers. We have to help them get acclimated and make arrangements for them to reclaim their lives…"
"… and not let them know too much about other things." By other things… he was thinking of the children… theirs and Grace's new-born daughter.
Eleanor nodded. Tthe sooner they're gone from here… the better." She turned to face him. "Do you really think MacLeod helped father a child with Kate?"
"Amanda thought so too. Time will tell."
"I just hope that everything will work out. I saw how difficult it was for Grace with all of us to help her. I wonder if Duncan and Craille and even Amanda will be enough for Kate."
"I worried about you," Methos reminded her slowly.
"I'm fine," she assured him. "Now about Ms. Manning," she teased.
Methos groaned and bent to kiss her. "We'll talk about her tomorrow."
Eleanor did not pursue the conversation. She was far more interested in Methos' other plans for the night.
-----
Ensconsed in one of the spare bedrooms at the villa, Sarah sat huddled alone in the bed. She'd met Ben's "wife" briefly and had not been impressed… even though she was apparently an immortal. At least Kingsley was dead… Sarah was thankful for that… but the bed felt cold and empty.
She wanted Ben. Slowly she began to lay her plans. Hearing a baby cry elsewhere in the house made her wonder what the immortals here were about. Well she planned on remaining… as long as they'd let her. She would have Ben Adams before long. She was certain of it.
-----
It isn't fair!
Kenny still couldn't talk or write. He'd tried since learning that Carl could and that the others had awakend. There went his chance to get some easy heads! He should have healed completely too! The fact that Carl had likely been healed because he'd been present at the Quickening while Kenny had been here did nothing to relieve his anger. It should have been me! he seethed.
Pulling a hunting knife from under his mattress, he unsheathed it partway and grinned. If he relaxed and played along, someone would turn their back to him sooner or later. Maybe Greg… maybe Denis or Denara… maybe Eleanor… maybe even the Swordmaster himself.
Kenny grinned mischievously. Yes… why not Phillip. He'd locked his sword back in the safe but hadn't noticed that the knife was gone. Kenny had worried about that moment when he'd laid the sword in the safe and stared at its contents. But he'd just shut the door and spun the lock.
Now Kenny was armed… and the Swordmaster wasn't.
Patience! he thought to himself. Patience! There would be only one of them one day… and Kenny wanted it to be him.
-----
Phillip stood at the French doors of his room and stared out at the darkness of the island. He had no desire to sleep. Kingsley's Quickening and memories stirred in his mind but he kept pushing them down. He didn't want to admit them into his consciousness. Still… the pressure to visit them fully… make them a part of him was great. One of the reasons he'd stopped accepting challenges… why he'd tried so often to find another way… was that he'd begun to sense his own proclivity toward wanting to immerse himself in the memories of the immortals he'd had to kill… and revel in their activities… activities that he'd over the millennia found distasteful.
He'd conquered his own darkness long ago… but to keep it conquered… he'd had to withdraw from the Game. Evidently Methos had discovered much the same in his life. Above on the mountaintop as he'd accepted Kingsley's Quickening, he'd heard Nestor laughing in intimate companionship… as if he were returning to his old teacher's side. But he wouldn't… he couldn't. Too many were depending on him.
And still the vision of a cowering Sarah Manning… subject to his every whim… flowed through him. One of Phillip's hands clenched as he considered choking the life out of her. Or if not her… Jayne, Eleanor or Grace. Or perhaps one of the small ones. Denara was devoted to him. She would be so easy to control.
Phillip angrily shook his head. "No! I will not do it!" But the vision of walls coated with the splatter of blood would not fade.
-----
Greg finally tip-toed out of the beroom to give Grace and John some privacy. He carried their daughter to his room and settled onto the bed… still holding her. He was fearful of letting her out of his sight. She seemed so tiny and so depedent on him and the others… it was what he needed to do. Stretching out on the bed… he curled his arms around her and laid one hand on her tiny chest.
"Hope," he murmured. It was the perfect name. "You are the proof that any of us can manage this if we give up some part of what we are. And I would give it all to you. If it means you can have a long life… I would give it all to you."
Gradually he slept… secure in the grasp of the future that they were helping to forge.
-----