AN – Apologies for the long gap. RL gets in the way sometimes
Many thanks to everyone for the reviews. Phbalance - pre-immie Rich will turn up but you've a few chapters to wait for that! LoMaRiMa – sorry couldn't manage soon, but this is a long chapter so will you take extra more instead? Neoinean - Darius has quite a role to play as you'll see and Amanda will join in soon, and as for Mac and pre-immie Richie – hmm, well, yes you would, think that wouldn't you? (grins evilly) Moone 31 - sorry another long gap but hopefully worth it, thanks for the kind words and your support. Ivy – just for you Tessa will wake up this chapter. Tammi – So glad you're still enjoying. To clarify, we don't know that Mac is dead, but we don't know that he isn't. Ares does know, but he's not telling. Jamie - thank you for your review, its always nice to know that people are actually reading – and Sarai I'm sorry you're not enjoying this as much as The Plague, perhaps if you could comment on what you like/don't like I can try to improve on that for you. And finally many thanks to SC for the quote from Season Two's "The Watchers." Gotta love those DVDs.
Richie and Adam stood in the centre of the room, their gazes locked together. For a moment Duncan thought that neither was going to give ground. Then, unexpectedly, Adam sighed and dropped Richie's hand, acknowledging defeat.
"Well, if you put it like that."
"Yeah, I do."
It was barely noticeable, but the slight sag of his shoulders telegraphed that Richie hadn't, in fact, been as sure of his victory as his determined tone suggested. Duncan filed that bit of information way for future reference. Whatever was going on the blonde was still young enough to make mistakes.
And mistakes could kill.
"And if Ares has other ideas?" Connor put in. "Battle cannot be joined until he issues the final challenge. You could be waiting from now until doomsday."
"He won't make me wait." Richie was resolute.
"You can't know that."
"You think?" Richie cast a sour glance at him. "He doesn't think I'm ready either. I'm betting he ain't gonna want to give me another century or so to invent new ways to kill him."
"You only need one way." Adam's tone was grim.
"Hold on a minute," Duncan couldn't believe what he was hearing. "You expect the lad here to face Ares?"
It was on the tip of his tongue to point out that right now the exhausted teenager didn't look fit to fight his way out of a paper bag. Then he looked at the closed expression on Connor's face, the air of resignation that hovered around Adam and the deep sense of sorrow emanating from Darius and realised that he was the only one who thought the idea utterly preposterous.
"He's older than he looks." Darius offered, tactfully in Arabic.
"He speaks pretty good Arabic as well." Despite the priest's words the tired grin Richie directed at Darius made him look achingly, impossibly young.
"Sorry." Darius shrugged, not looking the slightest bit repentant.
"Just what did I say in that e-mail anyway?" Adam, whose Arabic was also more than adequate Duncan surmised, scowled irritably at Darius.
"Ah," The priest regarded the dark haired man with a faintly apologetic air. "You told me not to tell."
Duncan watched out of the corner of his eye as Richie practically inhaled the meal that Adam had prepared and then without a shadow of self-consciousness licked the plate clean.
"More?" Adam asked, without looking up.
Richie thought about it for a minute.
"No, I'm good thanks."
"Alright then," Duncan put his own still full plate aside. "Enough stalling. I want some answers. What the hell is going on here?"
He'd been willing enough to wait until they had all had something to eat. God knows they looked like they needed it. But his patience was rapidly wearing thin.
"In the military there is such a thing as need to know." Connor pointed out.
"Russell Nash isn't in the military," Adam interjected. "And he does need to know."
"If I may?" Darius put in smoothly, temporarily silencing both Immortals, by reaching into the folds of his habit and producing small leather bound book.
"You don't happen to have a Coke in there too, do you?" Richie asked with a grin.
"There's mineral water in the fridge if you're thirsty." Duncan offered, starting to stand up.
"That's cool, I'll fetch it," Richie stood up and stepped over Adam's outstretched legs and headed towards the tiny galley, calling back over his shoulder. "Anyone else want anything?"
Nobody did. Although Adam grumbled that he was out of beer. Which was, Duncan reflected only because the dark haired Immortal had drunk it all.
"Hey, this is a dishwasher," Richie's voice called back indignantly. "Who moved the fridge?"
"Its next to the washing machine." Connor called back.
"Oh. Right. First place anyone would look." Richie sounded sarcastic.
Duncan frowned. The fridge had originally been where the dishwasher was, until about six months ago, when Tessa had complained that as Duncan usually cooked, she was always the one who pulled kitchen duty and demanded he install a dishwasher. But there was no way the lad could have known that. It was just chance he decided. All the wooden fronted units looked the same, after all.
"Duncan?" Darius' voice asked.
Duncan looked up and realised that the priest had opened the book and was waiting patiently for the Scot to pay attention.
"Sorry," Duncan scrubbed at his face and waved a hand apologetically. "Go on."
"And in the last days," Darius read. "In a place out of time, the last shall meet the first, each carrying, the strength and hope of all with them, and so it will be decided and henceforth there will be only one power across the face of the earth."
"What?" Duncan asked.
"See," Richie reappeared, twisting the top off a bottle of Perrier and shooting Adam an amused look. "I told you, you should have written it in English."
"In case you hadn't noticed, that is English."
"The last days are the Gathering, of course, the first is Ares," Darius glanced up briefly before reading on. "For it is written that the first will carry with him the experience of all time."
"Of all time?" Duncan felt his chest tighten. "How old is he?"
"Very." Adam's tone was clipped.
"Its not as bad as it sounds. Listen," Darius continued reading. "Yet he will be his only succour and he will stand or fall by his own hand."
"So, he's supposed to fight alone? What about those goons with the trucks at the river?"
"Mercenaries." Connor dismissed them.
"Ah."
Duncan knew as well as his kinsman that a group did not necessarily make an effective fighting force, no matter how skilled the individuals. Men who fought merely for money could be easily swayed. The bonds that held a Clan together meant each man fought for his neighbour as much as for himself.
"And the last shall carry with him the strength and hope of all." Darius' voice echoed around the barge.
"The last surviving Immortal?" Duncan guessed.
"If only it where that simple, my friend," Darius shook his head. "The last is the youngest surviving Immortal at the time of the Gathering."
"But that's ridiculous. Pre-immortals are still being born all over the world. How will anyone ever know who is the youngest to survive?"
"Because it's a Prophecy," Adam cut in with exaggerated patience. "Its tells us what is going to happen in the future."
"You can't actually believe that." Duncan scoffed. Nothing that had happened to him in his long life had ever convinced him that anything but his wits and his sword arm controlled his destiny. He looked at Connor. Surely his mentor didn't believe such fanciful notions?
"Duncan?" Tessa's voice drifted through the barge.
Duncan's chest tightened. He still had no idea how he was going to explain any of this, Ares, the Game, the killing, to Tessa.
"You have to tell her, kinsman." Connor's tone was sympathetic but firm.
"I know," Duncan sighed. "Does your crystal ball say how that is going to turn out?"
"Don't try and leave her," Connor gave him a knowing smile. "That one isn't about to let you get away."
Duncan felt a shock almost like pain. How could Connor have known that was exactly what he was thinking?
"Just tell her the truth," Richie's voice advised quietly. Duncan looked up to see the blonde's bright blue eyes regarding him with compassion. "She won't like it. She'll probably yell and scream and smoke half a pack of cigarettes. She might even say some stuff that she doesn't really mean. But in the end she'll accept it, because its part of you. Part of who you are, and she loves you man, big time."
Duncan gave him a twisted grin. "Hope so."
Tessa Noel twisted the stub of her cigarette into the hardwood deck and immediately lit another, drawing deep and blowing out tendrils of smoke into the chill evening air.
"Those things will kill you, you know."
She turned around to look over her shoulder at the figure lounging against the rail.
"As oppose to being cut down in the street?" she returned acidly.
As soon as the words were out of her mouth, she regretted them. He didn't deserve her anger and as he held his hands up placating and started to turn away she could see that she had hurt his feelings. "No, Richie, isn't it? Wait. I'm sorry." She reached out and caught at his cuff. "Don't go. I didn't mean that. I'm just .."
"Pissed?" he suggested wryly.
She almost laughed at his frank assessment. Although she herself would never have used such a vulgar expression, right now that was exactly how she felt.
"I never even thanked you for saving my life."
"You just did," he settled on the step beside her. "You got another one of those?"
In spite of herself, Tessa regarded him with an amused smile as she offered the pack and her lighter. "Are you sure you're old enough to smoke?"
"Pretty sure," He grinned, as he expertly lit the cigarette, cupping his hand to shield it from the breeze coming off the Seine, took a long draw and then completely spoilt the effect by coughing wildly, prompting Tessa to pound him on the back.
"Thanks," he croaked. "Guess I'm a bit out of practice."
"I should give up," Tessa sighed. "I keep meaning to."
"You're pretty mad at him, huh?"
"It's been twelve years. Twelve years! How dare he keep something like this from me? Damn Duncan Macleod and his determination to protect the little woman."
"Yeah, but Mac's been at this for almost four hundred years. You can't blame the guy for wanting a time out."
"Excuse me?"
"When I was a kid I thought it would be so cool to be Immortal. The places I'd see. The things I'd do. The swords. Living forever. I mean, what's not to like?"
"You knew already, about Immortals?"
"I saw something. A challenge. Man I was so scared. I thought for sure the guy would come after me next. And he did. He took me in and gave me a home and a family for the first time in real long time. I guess I kinda hero-worshipped him. It was like living with Superman or something. And then I became Immortal." He pressed his lips together. "I had no idea, Tess, None at all. Ma .. my Dad he had tried to tell me. But you can't know. Not until you have to live it. Always thinking, is today the day I meet someone who's better than me? Is today the day that someone I love will suffer because of what I am? Watching those you love grow old and die and being powerless to do anything about it. Sometimes, you just want to be a normal guy for a bit, you know?"
"You were just a boy," Tessa wasn't at all sure she was ready to let Duncan off the hook just yet. "Duncan was a grown man. He knew exactly what he was getting into."
"And he'd just met a women he loved more than anything and he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. Who wouldn't want to pretend that was possible? Even for a little while?" The pain of his own loss came clearly through his words.
"You too?" Tessa put a sympathetic hand on his arm.
"All of us, I think, at one time or another," he forced a smile. "Even Connor."
Tessa considered that, looking out over the dark waters of the river as she tried to gather her thoughts.
"I love him, I do. But I don't know if I can live with this Game."
"You can," Richie slipped an arm around her shoulder and hugged her lightly. "I know you can. Its kinda like being married to a cop or something, there's a lot of stress put on the relationship, you know? I mean, you coulda gone for a Dentist some steady guy who comes home every night and tell you about Mrs. Goodman's bridgework and abscesses and he'd make you floss three times a day with the un-waxed stuff. But you weren't cut out for that."
"Oh," Tessa regarded him with amusement. "And what was I cut out for?"
"Mac," Richie said simply. "You guys belong together."
Duncan wasn't at all sure how he had allowed himself to be talked into this. But the waiting was killing him.
"It's been almost an hour." He protested.
"Forty two minutes." Adam corrected, from where he sat, slouched on the couch, without bothering to look at a watch. Or even open his eyes for that matter.
"Long enough." Duncan decided.
Taking the steps two at a time he bounded up onto the deck, coming to a dead halt when he saw Richie sitting with his arm around Tessa and his head resting on her shoulder.
And snoring.
In spite of his concern he felt a smile tug at the edge of his mouth, which he quickly quashed, certain that neither of them would see the humour in the situation.
As his shadow fell over them, Tessa looked up and in a glance look, banished each and every one of Duncan's fears.
"I'm sorry." She smiled.
"I'm sorry, myself," Duncan apologised. "I should have told you."
"Yes, you should," Tessa agreed. "But even Immortals are not infallible, I think."
She cast a fond glance at Richie, who was sleeping soundly on her shoulder, his mouth hanging slightly open as he snored lightly. "He's exhausted."
"I know," Duncan squatted down beside them. Up close he could see the thin, angular lines of the lad's pale face, the hollow cheeks and the dark bags under his eyes that spoke of a stress too long borne. "I hate to wake him."
"Then don't."
"Tessa, they can't all stay here and I can't see Adam or Connor letting him out of their sight." Duncan protested, sotto voice. Much as he appreciated his lover's apparent acceptance of the present situation, the fact remained that the barge wasn't exactly built for accommodating so many adult Houseguests.
"Its late Duncan, and its cold. You can't send them out into the night."
"They're Immortal. Its not as if they can freeze to death."
"That is besides the point.
Duncan sighed. Truth be told, he'd feel better if there were other Immortals around. Ares had already gone after Tessa once. There was nothing to say he wouldn't do it again. He supposed Connor and Adam could share the spare room under the wheelhouse. Darius, would no doubt want to return to his Parish duties, at least for now. He wondered, briefly, if he might be able to persuade Tessa to go with him. She'd be safer on Holy Ground. But the dangerous glint in her eyes warned him not to suggest it. They'd had enough arguments for one night. And as for Richie, well there was always the couch.
It took a bit of fast-talking for him to convince Tessa that he couldn't just scoop the lad up and carry him off to bed. Richie might look like a teenager, but there was no telling how old he actually was and the Scot was sure that there was just enough pubescence pride left in his genes that he would be mortified at being treated like a bairn.
Of course, there was the small matter of actually rousing the lad.
"Rich, c'mon Richie," he shook his shoulder gently. "You can't sleep here. Wake up."
"Hmm. Just five more minutes." Richie bargained.
"Come along Richie," Tessa coaxed. "You will catch your death out here."
"Mmm," Richie wasn't agreeing. "'M not cold. S'nice."
He snuggled a little closer to Tessa.
"Hey, Tough Guy," Duncan chided tolerantly. "That's my girl friend."
Richie's eyes snapped open as he sat bolt upright, all traces of fatigue gone. "Dad?" he looked at Duncan hopefully.
Seeing his earnest expression, Duncan felt a pang of sorrow for the lad. Whoever he was, his father was dammed lucky to have a son who loved him like that.
"Sorry," His voice was tight with sympathy. "Its just me."
Realisation swept across Richie's face like a wash of pain, swiftly followed by a flat, closed, expression that made Duncan's heart ache.
"Right. Sorry." He looked over at Tessa. "Sorry. I guess I was pretty wiped, huh?"
"It doesn't matter." Tessa assured him.
"C'mon," Duncan offered him a hand up. "You can stay here tonight. On the couch." He deliberately let a teasing note enter his voice.
"Here?" Richie blinked, looking slightly panicked. "You want me to stay on the barge?"
"Of course." Tessa assured him. "You and Connor are family. Where else would you stay? I will go and tell the others."
As Tessa departed below decks Richie turned to Duncan in confusion.
"But I can't. I mean I have a suite booked at the Hotel. We can go there."
"You're staying here tonight, Tough Guy and no arguments." Duncan countered in as paternal a fashion as he could manage, feeling only a little guilty at the manipulation. It was clear to him that the lad missed his Da and was desperately looking for someone to fill that void. To his surprise it worked and Richie instantly acquiesced.
"Next thing I know you'll be dragging me off on a run." He groused, half-heartedly.
"If you like," Duncan grinned wickedly. "How does six a.m. sound?"
"Like torture actually."
"We could go to MacDonalds for breakfast on the way back," he suggested, shrugging at Richie's startled expression. "Adam mentioned you liked it."
"Man," Richie positively glowed. "You would really not believe how long it's been since I last had a Big Mac."
"Then its settled," He patted him lightly on the back. "Better make sure you get a good night's sleep."
"Yeah," Richie smiled up at him. "You know what, for the first time in what seems like forever I think I actually might."
"Nightmares?" Duncan had seen the signs.
Richie looked steadfastly at his feet and for a moment he thought the lad wasn't going to answer him. But then he nodded.
"Oh yeah."
Powerless to know how to help, Duncan raised his hand, intending to offer a brief, consoling pat on the shoulder. Except that he looked so dammed forlorn, standing there in the chill night air, with his head bowed and the breeze ruffling his blonde curls. Like he had the weight of the whole dammed world on his shoulders.
"Hey, We'll get through this. All of us. Together." He slid his hand around to cup the back of Richie's neck, the soft warmth of the skin to skin contact creating an unexpectedly intimate connectionagainst the cold evening. Richie's head came up sharply, his eyes wide and vulnerable and for a long moment he simply looked at him, as if weighing the sincerity of that gesture.
Then he grinned, with all the confidence of youth.
"Hey, I saw him first."
And for the first time Duncan began to think that just maybe this Ares wouldn't know what had hit him.