AN – Sorry the delay, life is madly busy right now and compounded by the fact that I've been away from home and my computer! Many thanks as ever to my reviewers, your comments both encourage and inspire me. Notes at the end so as not to distract those who want to get on with the story.
Numbly Duncan followed Methos to the relative seclusion afforded by the bridge overhang further down the quay, mentally checking his sword, his state of preparedness and the surrounding conditions as he went. The cobbles were slick from an earlier rainfall, making the footing uncertain. The ambient light was not strong, leaving large areas in shadow.
And his opponent was over five thousand years old.
He was going to survive this.
"Just tell me this," he asked, as he pulled out the Katana and stood ready. "If you kill me now, what happens to that other Richie? The one that was in Seacouver?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Macleod," Methos barely spared him a glance. "I've no intention of fighting you."
"What? Then what the hell was that all about?"
"Does the term self preservation mean anything to you?" Methos challenged as he stowed his sword.
"So, you scare me out of my wits so I'll think twice before taking on Ares? Is that it?"
"No," Methos reflected. "Although if I'd thought of it, its a bloody good idea. You go up against Ares and we all lose. Live, Highlander, grow stronger, fight another day. Leave your misguided sense of honour in your other pants."
"Thanks for the tip." Duncan said dryly.
"Do you mind putting that away?" Methos nodded at the Katana. "Drawn swords make me nervous."
"You didn't seem to have any problem drawing yours on me." Duncan retorted, as he pointedly sheathed the Katana under his bicep, no immediate threat but not out of reach either.
"If I wanted to kill you, I would have done it long before now," Methos dug around in his pocket with a frown on his face. He tried fishing in his other pocket. "You have all these noble ideas, which are bad enough in themselves, but then you expect me to risk my neck and go along with them."
"And I was just supposed to know that all that wasn't for real?"
"Why not?" Methos was sarcastic. "You've known me for three whole weeks now. Next thing you know we'll be picking out china."
"Meaning, I've got no idea of what I'm getting into with Richie?" Duncan hazarded.
"Hallelujah." Methos' frown deepened as patted his jeans pockets. "I was sure it was in here somewhere."
"So, if you're not going to fight me is there a good reason we're hiding under a bridge?"
"Because there's something you need to see and I don't see any point in scaring the natives," Methos tried the first pocket again. "This thing won't even be invented for another fifty years. Ah, here it is." He produced a small silver sphere about 5 cm in diameter, and holding it up, placed his thumb on a dimpled spot on the side. At once a kaleidoscope of coloured lights swirled and coalesced into a residential street.
"What? What is this?" Duncan exclaimed, as he was hit in the face with by a twig.
"It's a holographic imager."
"I figured that out thank you very much," Duncan gave him a scathing look. "Why are we standing in a hedge?"
"Because I got the original video from your Watcher. Now shut up and look will you?"
As Methos spoke, two figures came out of a house and started to make their way along a street, too wide to be anywhere in Europe, moving towards a T-Bird with Seacouver plates. Both seemed edgy, the woman looked anxiously back and the lad was hurrying forward, obviously intent on getting her to the safety of the car as quickly as possible.
"Tessa." Duncan breathed.
This was all wrong.
In the salon Tessa watched worriedly as the fitful sleep Richie had fallen into became increasingly restless. She glanced over at the door, as if that could make Duncan return sooner. It didn't usually take him this long to take out the rubbish. Every time she tried to soothe Richie, he became more and more agitated. She was afraid that he would cause more damage to the slowly healing wounds.
"Shhh," she stroked his hair gently. "Its alright, its over, you're safe now."
"No," Richie murmured. "Its not over Tess, gotta be careful. Its not safe."
Tessa pressed her lips together, if her touch could not settle him perhaps there was another way to banish the nightmare. Her mother had often said that talking about your fears took away their power. It had always worked for her and her siblings. And as far as she knew Richie had so far said nothing to anyone about his treatment at Ares hands. Maybe it would help if he talked a little, even if only in his sleep.
"Why is it not safe?" she coaxed.
"Because he's coming," Richie almost whimpered. "You think its safe. Everything's cool. But he's coming. He always does."
"Ares cannot hurt you here. Duncan will not allow it." She tried to reassure.
"Mac's not here," Richie protested, tossing his head from side to side. "Just me. S'dark. I can't see him."
"Just hold on. Duncan is close by. He will come and help you."
"Its too late. He's coming. He's coming, Oh God, please not again. Not again." To Tessa's astonishment a single tear leaked out from under his bandages and trickled down his face.
"Its alright," Tessa swallowed her own feelings and forced her voice to sound calm and soothing. "Its not real. Its just a dream."
"Oh God, look at his eyes Tess, he is so outta it. Don't look at the gun. Just give him the stuff. Maybe if I can keep him talking," Richie gripped her arm as his voice rose in panic. "Oh man, he wants more. We don't have anything. We don't have anything else! Oh God, Tessa!" he screamed.
Tessa could bear it no longer she couldn't just sit by and watch him in such distress. Desperately hoping that her instincts were correct, she quickly unwound the bandages around his eyes, almost collapsing with relief when she saw the healthy skin around his eyes. "Richie," She took him by the shoulders and shook him gently, "Richie, wake up. Its just a dream."
"Tess?" His voice asked, uncertainly, but with dawning awareness.
"Its alright," She encouraged. "Its just a dream. Can you open your eyes? For me?"
"Nuh uh," Richie shook his head. "You'll disappear on me. Like always."
Feeling an icy coldness that had nothing to do with the present threat, Tessa reached out and squeezed his hand in reassurance. "I promise you. I will be sitting right here. See?"
Slowly he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly even in the soft light of the salon as his eyes struggled to focus. With an expression of wonder he looked around the barge, taking in familiar furnishings and objects d'art, finishing his slow circuit by gazing intently at her face, as if scrutinising each and every one of her features against some unknown standard.
"Tessa?"
"Who else would I be?" Slightly uneasy, Tessa nonetheless forced a smile for him, reaching out to stroke his face, with a soothing hand.
"Oh man," Richie gave her a watery smile. "That was some dream. I thought stuff like that only happened on Dallas."
"Dallas?" She wrinkled her nose, looking at him in clear confusion. "But we are in France."
Richie stilled, as memory returned, looking again around the barge, this time taking in subtle differences, the placement of an ornament, the absence of a picture and on the desk, none of the smiling family photos that he so well remembered. In anguish he closed his eyes and turned away as a grief as raw as the first loss overtook him.
"Richie? What is wrong?"
"Nothing," Summoning the brightest smile he could muster, Richie turned back to face her. "I'm starving, is there any more of that pie left?"
He didn't think for a second that she had bought it. He had seen that look thousands of times before. Every time he had tried to tell her that he wasn't that sick. Or that being dumped by his latest girlfriend wasn't such a big deal. She would get that little furrow, right in the middle of her forehead and he would know he was sprung. Usually she had been pretty cool about stuff.
This time he figured he was toast.
"I am dead, non?" she asked bluntly.
"Tessa, I come from almost a hundred years in the future," Richie attempted to deflect her. "Everyone dies sometime, even Immortals."
"We are not taking about me dying in some hospital bed, as an old woman. Something happened. Something now. Or not long from now. A thief, with a gun. When you woke, you recognised me, like this. You thought I was her, non?"
"Tess," He sighed. "It's complicated."
Not for the first time Tessa was struck by how much he reminded her of Duncan. They had the same mannerisms, the same code of honour and apparently the same capacity to carry the weight of the world on their shoulders. Many was the time that Duncan's cries had woken her in the middle of the night as he relived some atrocity he had witnessed or trauma he had undergone. Sometimes, she knew he was haunted by the guilt of his own actions, or inactions.
"What happened Richie? To us?" She prodded gently.
His answer was a short bark of pained laughter. "Nothing happened to me. I popped right back up again. Good as new. Better than new actually."
"This was how you became an Immortal?"
"Yeah." Richie agreed, avoiding eye contact.
"Richie, look at me," she commanded, waiting until he had reluctantly complied before continuing, not surprised to see the tears in his eyes. "That is hardly nothing. You died too. And I do not think your life has been easy, non? You are not like Duncan, born into a world of swords and death. You were just a boy, I cannot imagine how hard that must have been for you."
"When I was a kid, I always thought it would be so cool," Richie confided. "The places I'd see, the people I'd meet, and the swords. Oh man. Loved the swords. But its hard Tess. Always looking over your shoulder. Always wondering if the next guy is gonna be better than you. God, I hate the killing."
"Which is as it should be, n'est pas?" Tessa patted his hand. "You are a good man."
"I can't believe I'm sitting here talking to you about this," Richie shook his head. "I've lost count of the number of times I've laid awake nights, thinking what I should have said or done to keep you alive. I'm sorry, Tess. I am so sorry."
"Richie," Tessa put her arm around him, her heart aching for the pain that he had carried all this time. "You must not blame yourself. You were also his victim, non?"
"I tried to save you. As soon as the Project was up and running the first thing I did was go back to that night and try to make things right. But everything I tried just made things worse. It never worked out and sometimes, other people died. There was this one time," Richie flicked a quick sideways glance at her to see how she was taking all this. "We made it to the car without even seeing Roszca. You didn't die. I was still mortal. It changed things. A few days later, when we should have been in Paris and the store all boarded up for sale, this Immortal type came looking for Mac. It was a mess. You still died, I still became Immortal, only this time Mac lost his head."
"Oh mon Dieu!" Aghast, Tessa pressed her hand up against her mouth. "But how could this be? Surely Duncan was supposed to look after you?"
"Methos says there are two prophecies. One for the good guys and one for the other side. They both end up in the same place. It's just the balance of power kinda shifts along the way. Every time I tried to change things. I played right into their hands."
"Then perhaps it was not meant to be."
"Tessa, you died. Lying in a pool of blood on the street for nothing more than a chunk of change."
"And if I had lived to be a hundred and ended my days in my own bed, I would still have died, non?" Tessa shook her head. "Who is to say what is the true purpose of life? Or death? When I decided to stay with Duncan I knew there would be sacrifices. We would never have children. We could not grow old together. But I chose this life, because without love we are nothing. If my life could save others, I would give it freely. Your Tessa would not wish her love for you to become the cause of such pain."
Richie paused, meeting her gaze with a quick uncertain glance, before continuing in a quiet voice.
"When she was around your age, my Mom died. Right there in front of me at the Store. I thought she was playing a game, so I'm pushing her and laughing, but she didn't move. When you died that way, I felt like it was happening all over again. Except, I wasn't five anymore. Its not like I was helpless. I grew up on the streets. I knew what guys like Roszca were like. I should have been able to save you."
"Richie, it was not your fault. You must not torture yourself so," Tessa scolded lightly "Your mother would not have wished it, your Tessa would never have wanted it and I will not allow it, mon brave."
He managed a shaky grin. "You always used to call me petit."
"Perhaps, but I do not think you were more than three times my age back then." Tessa smiled back.
Richie laughed, and rubbed a sleeve over his watery eyes. Then he looked up and glanced around.
"Where's Mac?"
Duncan stood in stunned horror. The events he had just watched were playing themselves out over and over in his mind's eye long after Methos had turned off the sphere and put it safely back in his pocket.
"This hasn't happened yet," Methos' voice reassured. "Right now, Tessa is still safe and well and waiting for you at home."
"Then why torture me with this?" Duncan turned on him. "Once your precious prophecy is fulfilled everything about the future will be different. What possible good can it do to show me this now?"
"Because," Methos drew out the word. "Richie blames himself for her death. He always has."
Duncan sighed. Richie had been smart enough to know when not to argue and hand over the stuff. And brave enough to try and keep the thief talking so that if he did shoot his attention would be on him and not Tessa. He'd done everything right.
It just hadn't been enough.
"He had to watch her die." He realised.
"Yes. He still has nightmares about it."
Duncan sympathised. He didn't think he was going to be able to get the image of Tessa's broken and bleeding body lying on the pavement out of his head anytime soon. He'd probably have nightmares about it himself. And Richie had had to live through it.
"So," Methos asked conversationally. "Which one would you chose?"
"What?"
"This isn't over Macleod.," Methos advanced. "Ares isn't going to stay at home licking his wounds forever. Pretty soon he's going to make his next move and when he does we have to be ready."
"Oh I'm more than ready."
"Are you? When Ares has a gun pointed at Tessa's heart and a sword at Richie's throat. Are you ready to make that choice? You can't protect both of them."
"I won't let it come to that."
"And you think you'll be able to prevent it?" Methos laughed. "You couldn't stop them being murdered by a teenage punk with nothing between his ears except where his next fix was coming from. Ares has spent millennia planning this. Come on, Macleod. You've loved Tessa for over twelve years. You've only known Richie for a few weeks. How hard can it be?"
"Its not that simple!" Duncan protested. "I can't just pick one."
"Then they'll both die. And Ares will win. Is that simple enough for you?"
"Did anyone think to ask us?" Tessa's voice called sharply, her heels clicking on the cobblestones at her approach.
"Tessa?" Duncan straightened.
"Then where's Richie?" Methos' voice was full of dread.
"Behind you," Richie's voice answered just as the sense of an approaching Immortal washed over them. "Just give me a sec."
Duncan and Methos exchanged worried glances at the pain in his voice, turning to look as Richie limped slowly into the clearing under the bridge.
"He insisted in coming," Tessa explained. "You were gone so long. We were worried something had happened to you. We thought it could be Ares."
"You're looking better," Methos greeted him sourly. "At least this way when Ares took your head you'd be able to see it coming."
"And f you'd been Ares, you'd have been dead before you felt the buzz," Richie countered, opening his hand to reveal a dull metal cylinder. Duncan had no idea what the futuristic gizmo did, but it didn't look friendly. "I might have to fight him one on one, but I'm dammed if he's going to take out any more of my family before we're done here."
"Which is why I have come to a decision." Tessa announced.
"I had a nightmare," Richie supplied at Methos' enquiring look. Then he glanced hesitantly at Duncan. "You see, um . I .."
"I know," Duncan stepped up and put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "You alright?"
"Not really," Richie avoided his gaze by casting a grateful look at Tessa. "But I'm getting there."
"I'm glad to hear it," Tessa leant over and kissed him lightly on the cheek, softly wiping the residue of her lipstick away before smiling. "Take care of yourself."
"You too."
Duncan blinked. That sounded uncomfortably like goodbye. "Tessa?"
"Methos, is right, Duncan. I'll only distract you if I stay. It's better this way. I spoke to Darius and he's arranged for me at stay with the sisters of St Louis for a while," She smiled. "Perhaps I will gain divine inspiration for that commission from M Dumas."
Duncan glanced from her to Richie and back again, then took her by the arm and pulled her a little further away, so they could talk in relatively privacy.
"Sweetheart, you don't have to do this."
"You did not see him, Duncan," Tessa's voice was soft with pain at the memory. "After all these years. It was as if it was just yesterday for him. I do not think he could bear it if anything happened else happened to me because of him. Trust me, this is for the best. I will not be far," She smiled. "You can come and visit."
"Won't that shock the good sisters?" Duncan teased, pulling her closer.
"I certainly hope so."
"Alright," Duncan reluctantly agreed. "But at least let me drive you."
"There is no need. Darius has arranged everything. You need to take care of Richie."
"Just so long as you make sure you take care of yourself."
"You worry too much, Duncan," she smiled. "It is Holy Ground. I will be perfectly safe."
Reviews
Bemill – thanks for the encouragement. Rest assured Tess won't be out of out or out of mind, more family fic to come.
Ivy – OK, you sprung me, Methos had no intention of challenging Mac. Although, there is definitely another Methos out there and its not that far on a plane to Tibet, so you never know if he will make an appearance before this is over.
Tammi – At the risk of repeating myself I'm so glad you are enjoying it.
Sarai - Will Richie meet Rebecca? Definitely. Will Mac prevent Tessa's death? Well, he could now he knows what will happen there, but that might depend on whether they move to Seacouver in the first place.
Moone.301 - What can I say except the next chapter will be up as soon as I can, I promise! And thank you.
LoMaRiBa – And if that wasn't exciting enough for you, stay tuned.
Neoineon – Well Methos was trying to warn Mac, although not quite in the way that you suggested. Although after I read your review I couldn't help including the idea! And as for putting things right, there's no guarantee Richie's going to win. Well, all right, there is, but that doesn't mean to say I'm going to make it easy for him. Several chapters to go yet.