AN - Thanks to everyone for the reviews. I'm so glad so many of you liked the twist. I was a bit worried about killing Rich! And I do have a plan to fix the Richie/Duncan imbalance Sue! And Phbalance, I hated Archangel too, so trust me, this is only going to be good for our boy. To Serina Kat .. I could cop out and say this is an AU where Darius' Church has pews, but the truth is I forgot they were chairs! Thanks for the heads up. And Neoinean – oh Methos definitely knew. (See the end of chapter 15) And, I really should stop under estimating. Still not finished but I thought I'd be kind and post what I had!

Slick's eyes widened with horror and he staggered back as he realised exactly what he had done. Almost at once, Ares's Quickening began to gather and swirl. Its tendrils mixing with the mass of Richie's Quickening that still hovered overhead. Looking up, Slick's face drained of all colour as he saw the growing energy field. With eyes wide and scared he looked back over his shoulder.

"Mac?"

For once in his life, Duncan was utterly at a loss. He had no idea how a Quickening would affect a pre-immortal. He wasn't even sure that Slick's body would be able to absorb the energy. And even if he could, the trauma of trying to assimilate a Quickening as ancient and as evil as Ares' would likely be enough to shatter his mind.

"Duncan, the crystal." Rebecca was already taking hers off and offering it urgently to the Scot. At once the others did likewise. Clutching his precious burden Duncan raced across the cobbles and grasped Slick by the shoulders, turning him around even as Slick continued to stare fixedly at the pulsating cloud.

There was no time to lose.

"Slick!" He had to shout to be heard over the cracking energy. "Give me your crystal! Slick!"

The boy looked at him, utterly terrified.

"Its alright," Taking time they didn't have Duncan put a hand on each side of the boys face and smiled as if Armageddon wasn't raging all around then. "Its gonna be alright. Trust me."

In answer, Slick dragged the crystal over his head and thrust it towards the Immortal. Looking up, Duncan saw the force of the Quickenings were almost upon them. Desperately he clutched Slick's one hand in both of his feeling the pieces of crystal merge and join under their grip until they were one whole.

Their eyes met.

"I love you," Duncan shouted "I'm not letting you go, you hear me?"

Slick nodded.

And then it hit.

It seemed to go on forever. Visions of lives he had never lived and places he had never seen swirled around Duncan. The energy radiating from the crystal cracked down his veins and resonated in every atom. But even as he screamed at the heavens he kept a tight grip on Slick's hand. When it was over, he found himself on his knees, his body still resonating with the energy that had engulfed them.

"Slick." Forcing the words out of a throat hoarse from proclaiming its agony, he shuffled across to where the boy was lying, his face pressed against the cold stone as he lay sprawled on the ground. "Slick?" Pushing weakly at one shoulder Duncan managed to roll the slight form over and patted gently at the pallid cheek. "Slick? C'mon, wake up."

Getting no response, his fingers sought the pulse at the carotid artery, even as he watched for the rise and fall of his chest. Satisfied that the lad was alive and breathing and lacking the energy to do anything more Duncan simply pulled his upper body into his lap and wrapped his arms around him as he waited for the others to come to his aid.

"Duncan! Richard!"

The sound of pounding feet heralded Rebecca's approach and Duncan looked up, ready to reassure that their son was at least alive. When she skidded to a stop and put her hand to her mouth in horror he paused.

"What's wrong?"

Between them the crystal pulsed with an electric blue light.

"But he can't be Immortal," Duncan hissed, keeping his voice low, so as not to be overheard by Tessa who was sitting by Slick's bedside in the next room. "He didn't die."

In the background Tessa's too bright voice talking of how she had met Duncan when she was a tour guide on a boat on the Seine and as soon as he woke up she was going to personally show him all the sights of Paris, so he had better hurry up and wake up as they had a lot to do.

Duncan made a mental note to remind her that Slick didn't actually speak French.

"I know," Rebecca was at a loss to explain it. "And yet I felt him. I'll speak with Darius. Perhaps if I can track down Methos .." she gave a wan smile.

There was another thing. When the Quickenings were spent they had looked around and realised that Richie's body and all their future selves had simply vanished. Signs of their presence still lay scattered all around, but the others were no-where to be found.

"In the meantime," Rebecca gave him a meaningful look. "Someone will need to talk to Richard."

"I know," Duncan sighed. "I will."

There was, he realised, absolutely no mistaking it. As soon as he walked back into the room, Slick's full-blown Immortal presence thrummed right through him.

"How is he?" He looked at Darius.

"Give him time." Darius smiled kindly.

Duncan nodded, looking down at the chalk white features, the mop of red gold hair the only hint of colour amid the crisp, white sheets. Tucked into Darius' high four-poster he seemed impossibly young and fragile. Duncan knew better. This one was a fighter. Gently, he reached out tothe smooth the sweat soaked curls, clenching his hand into a fist when he saw how his own fingers trembled.

"And you, my friend?" Darius asked quietly. "How are you?"

"I'll live." Duncan managed a grim smile.

"Perhaps it would help," Darius began with the air of one sure to be defeated. "If you took a shower, maybe ate a little something ..?" He stopped short of suggesting the Scot got some sleep. He knew that would never happen.

"I'm not leaving him." Duncan all but growled.

"Duncan," Tessa rose from her place by Slick's bedside and pulling him by the hand dragged him to a secluded corner of the room. "It's been almost an hour. Perhaps, we should take him to a Hospital?"

"No hospital."

"You said yourself that this is not normal. What if he never wakes up? He needs tests and machines and doctors to take care of him. We can't just sit here. We have to do something!"

The words, 'before its too late' hovered in the air between them, threatening to strip away the last vestiges of Duncan's control, already shredded by Richie's unexpected Immortality and his own battle with assimilating Ares' Quickening.

"There's nothing we can do Tess, except wait," Duncan sighed as he held her close and sought to offer her what comfort he could. "Wait and pray."

After an uncomfortable forty minutes shifting around on his chair, Duncan finally gave into the inevitable made a quick pit stop while Darius changed the boy's sweat soaked t-shirt and shorts and put on another set of clean bed sheets. On his return he glanced through the door to the Church on his way back. He hesitated. It would take Darius a few minutes longer to get Slick settled again. Making the decision he made his way to the front of the Church.

He knelt for a moment, his head bowed in desperate prayer, willing to offer his own soul if his lad could just be returned to him, safe and whole.

"Hey, Mac." A voice behind him, spoke shyly.

"Slick," Duncan surged to his feet, overcome with relief to see the lad awake and alert at last. "How are you?"

"I'm good," The blonde smiled softly. "Real good."

"Thank God," Overcome with emotion Duncan stumbled forward and wrapped his arms around the boy, hugging him tight to his chest with one arm, as he reached up with the others to run his fingers through the blonde hair. "You scared me."

"Yeah, I know. That's kinda why I'm here."

Duncan pulled back a little and looked the lad up and down. Someone, probably Tessa, had been shopping. His trainers were pristine white, his jeans new and stiff with disuse. Only the leather jacket looked as if had been loved and worn over many years.

Many years.

He let his arms drop.

"Richie?"

"Nah," The blonde smiled. "I'm definitely Slick. I'm just a bit older. But you can call me Richie, if you like. I kinda out grew the whole Slick thing."

"Outgrew, huh?" Duncan raised a brow. "How much older?"

"About a century," Richie gave him a quick grin. "So, you see its all cool, I'm gonna wake up and my brain's not fired or anything, well maybe a bit singed, but I get over it and hey, Ares and all the bad guys are history, so it was worth it."

"Really?" Duncan asked, his tone a bit ragged.

"You know," Richie rolled his eyes in a gesture common to all teenagers. "Its only gonna take me about fifty years to get you to stop asking that."

"How long?" Duncan swallowed. "Until you wake up?"

Richie reached out and snagged his wrist, turning it over so he could look at his watch. "About six hours. So, shower first, then food. Do you have any idea how long its been since I had a Big Mac? After that, I know where there's a couch with your name on it."

Duncan shook his head. "I promised I wouldn't leave him."

"You can be this stubborn and you still think I came back by myself?" Richie tipped his head on one side.

Slick kept very, very, still. He could still hear the voices. But they couldn't get him in here. Not if he kept still. It was safe here. Whatever she had said or he had done, he'd always been able to retreat in here. In this special place nothing could hurt him.

"Hey, Slick."

He relaxed a little as the gentle hand tousled his curls. He remembered how it had felt when he had been heldin his arms, lifting him from the cold cobbles and murmuring comfort into his hair as he carried him inside. The touch and smell of him had somehow made the voices seem less real. But floating in this sea of soft, downy, softness, it was harder to push them back and hold on to who he was. He wanted to be held, tight and close. But they all acted like he was a fragile piece of china who would shatter if they did more than hold his hand.

Oh God, he was so scared. He didn't know how much longer he could keep the voices away.

"Duncan?" Tessa's gentle voice asked something in French, her tone faintly disproving, even as Darius murmured something else.

Slick tried real hard not to wince, too many voices, too many, all crowding in on him. His hands tried scrabbling desperately at the bedclothes, trying to clutch a handful of something, anything, to ground him in the here and now. But he couldn't even get his fingers to flex.

"OK, Tough Guy," a familiar voice spoke softly, close to his ear. "Its just you and me now."

He felt a slight change in temperature as the covers were pulled back and strong hands slipped under his back and legs. A slight moment of weightlessness and then he was settled carefully in the Immortal's lap, one arm wrapped securely around his shoulders and another pulling him in so close to the broad chest that he could feel the fabric of his shirt brushing against his cheek.

"That better?" Somehow the Immortal knew to ease the discomfort caused by even his soft tones, by stroking his hair, the gentle, repetitive moment giving him something else to focus on than the drowning sea of voices. "Now, all you have to do is lie there and get well."

Slick knew that wasn't how it went. You never ever got what you wanted, just because you wanted it hard enough. Besides, the Immortal couldn't possibly know that this was so what he needed. Sooner or later he'd start to talk, trying to chivvy or command him into wakefulness. Or else he'd decide that he 'needed his rest' and he'd tuck him back into the vast, soft, wilderness. And Slick would lose himself. Never to be found again.

Except he didn't.

He just sat there, stroking his hair and letting the soft rise and fall of his chest soothe him, as if he would do it for the next hundred years if need be.

Duncan had to admit that the shower had felt pretty good. And he had felt even better after Richie had dragged him, not to MacDonalds after all, but to a nearby family run restaurant that served the best steak au poivre he'd ever had in his life.

"Fruites de mer?" he questioned Richie's order.

"It's been a hundred years," Richie shrugged. "You gotta expect a few changes."

"As I recall, you thought your future self was a jerk, because he liked different stuff."

"I was just a kid, what did I know? Besides, I never actually said that, I just figured that if I was gonna be Immortal I'd enjoy it more. Not be so hung up, you know?"

Duncan paused, uncertain whether to bring up the thorny question of Slick's newfound Immortality. Lord knows, the other lad had been young to survive the Game. The young man beside him certainly looked as if he could handle himself, but to Duncan's trained eye he lacked some of the body mass and muscle tone that his counterpart had managed.

"It was different for me," Richie answered the unasked question. "After Ares died, all the really evil Immortals died with him. Those of us that were left were pretty much content to lay down their swords. It was decades before I needed to take another head. There was plenty of time to teach me. It won't last, of course. People get selfish, or disappointed and they stop looking at the big picture. Sooner or later the evil will return, but Methos thinks we've got a good few millennium before that happens. Who knows what we might be able to do?"

"You've seen Methos?" Duncan straightened.

"Yeah," A slow grin spread across Richie's face. "Chill Mac, everything's gonna work out the way its meant to."

"I suppose I should expect Connor and Amanda too?"

"Probably." Richie grinned at him, waving his fork in the air and looking so much like his younger self that Duncan's chest tightened.

"We should get back."

"Nuh uh," Richie waggled a finger. "We still have four and a half hours and you my friend are gonna get some sleep. Don't worry, I was just kidding about the couch. This place has great rooms upstairs."

"I'm no staying here." Duncan protested, his accent thickening with distress.

"Dad, no-one wants you there when I wake up more than me," Richie spoke quietly. "But you look like hell. You gotta let me worry about you some too."

"I guess this family stuff works both ways, huh?" Duncan conceded.

"Always has," Richie smiled. "Always has."

Four fraught hours and fifteen minutes later, the Immortal let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, as his precious burden finally muttered softly and turned his face into the crock of his arm as he settled into a natural sleep. The worst was over. It was all up hill, from here. He smiled as he felt a familiar buzz.

"Tempted to stay and do it all over again?" his son lounged against the doorjamb.

"In a hot second," Macleod grinned. "I'm sure you could still mange to come up with a few surprises for me."

"Hey, that road trip through Mexico was entirely your idea."

"Talking of hitting the road, we should make tracks," He looked up and caught sight of the concerned Scot hovering behind Richie. "You want to take him from me?"

"I don't want to wake him."

"Its not a problem," Gently Macleod stood up, allowing his younger self to take his place, before passing the still sleeping boy over. "He'll be waking up in a few minutes anyway."

"And he'll be alright?"

"He'll be better than alright." Macleod grinned fondly at his own son. "He'll make you proud."

"But just in case," Richie grinned. "While you were asleep, I left you a list." He nodded at Duncan's jacket pocket.

"A list?" Macleod raised his eyebrows at his offspring.

"Chill, big guy, there's stuff on there for you and the others as well."

"Come on, let's go home," Macleod wrapped an arm around Richie's shoulders as he steered him towards the door. "Just don't let him stay up too late, make him eat all his veggies and keep him away from girls and everything will be fine."

"Hey, I wasn't that bad!" Richie protested, laughing.

As soon asthe younger Immortal was out of earshot, Macleod looked back.

"He'll really be alright?" Duncan was concerned.

"There'll be nightmares for a while, about this and things from before. He'll die before he'd admit it, but even when he pushes you away, he needs you to hold him, in fact its probably a good idea to touch him as much as possible, muss his hair, squeeze his shoulder, put your arm around him, oh and kiss him as often as you can get away with it."

"Even in public?" Duncan grinned.

"Especially in public," His face grew more serious. "It won't be easy. It will take time before he really trusts you, too many broken promises. But it's more than worth it."

"So, will we be seeing you again?"

"Let's hope not," Macleod made a face. "Since there is so much less evil in the world military funding isn't exactly a priority right now. The whole time travel project would never even have got off the ground unless it had private backing. So, unless the world's coming to an end .."

"Private backing?"

"Connor," Macleod looked down at the sleeping boy. "Since his future self hadn't made the best of first impressions on Slick, it was months before he could get the lad to do anything but glower in his direction. I suppose this is our kinsman's way of earning a second chance."

"I'll put in a good word for him." Duncan promised.

As he looked down at the lad sleeping in his arms, he realised that this was indeed for all of them, a second chance. And he for one was going to make the most of it. With a wicked grin he bent his head and pressed his lips gently to Slick's forehead, just as the blue eyes fluttered open.

"Hey." Duncan smiled.

"Duncan, do you ..?" Tessa stopped in the doorway, her question dying on her lips as she realised Slick was awake. In the excitement it was a good two hours before she thought to ask him when he had had time to change his clothes, twice, when he had barely left the boy's side.

"For the last time, no," Duncan shook his head. He should have known the lad would chafe at being confined to Darius' bed. "Non, Nr, Niet, Nein .."

"What if I need to go to the bathroom?"

"Then I'll carry you," Duncan flashed him a grin. "You need to build up your strength."

"Alright, alright, I get it," Slick scowled. "I don't see why though. Its not like I'm sick or anything."

"Just as soon as you can manage something more than a few spoonfuls of vegetable broth, then we'll agree you're not sick."

Slick bit his lip, went to say something, then clearly thought better of it.

"Hey," Duncan pressed gently. "What's wrong?"

Slick mumbled something Duncan didn't quite catch.

"Slick, listen to me. I will always do everything in my power to help you. But I can't do that if you won't talk to me. So, c'mon partner, spill."

"It had zucchini in it. I can't eat zucchini " Slick looked up at him. "I'm allergic."

"Oh," Duncan realised. "Why didn't you say?"

"Everyone's been so nice, Tess bought me those clothes and Darius got me those books, I didn't want to be a bother."

"Slick," Duncan paused, somehow he didn't think telling the lad he wasn't a bother would cut any ice. Maybe actions would speak louder than words. "So, how about Pizza?"

"Really?" The boy's stomach gave an audible growl at the thought. "Meat Feast?"

"Is there any other sort?" Duncan was already reaching for the phone. "And we're taking those clothes back, by the way."

"We are?" Slick looked at him in undisguised relief. "I mean, they're real expensive and all .."

"Admit it, Tough guy, you hate 'em," Duncan ruffled his hair. "Don't worry, I'll talk to Tess."

He grinned, as he picked up the phone, warmed by the look his actions put on the lad's face. Not only was this going to work but he was going to enjoy every moment of it.

"Hey, Mac, I'm thirsty. Can I grab some juice?"

"Sure, just hold on a sec," Duncan turned his attention to the phone as the Pizza place picked up. "Um, yeah can I have .."

Taking the acknowledgement as permission, Slick slipped out of the bed and padded silently across the floor towards the fridge. Unexpectedly, he felt a little dizzy as he grasped the door handle. Squeezing his eyes shut tight, he figured he needed the sugar rush more than he thought, gathering his strength he pulled open the fridge and reached for the large bottle of orange juice, stretching his fingers around it, as he felt the sides slippery with condensation.

He could do this.

With great concentration he lifted the bottle to his lips, and took a large swallow. With a shaky grin he brought the bottle down, mission accomplished.

Except, that the bottle continued its downward curve as it slipped straight through his numb fingers to shatter on the floor.

"Oh crap!"

In panic Slick dropped to his hands and knees and started to pick up as many of the pieces of glass as he could before the sound bought a no doubt extremely pissed Immortal running, only to hiss in pain as one of the larger shards sliced deep across his hand.

"Slick!" Duncan's voice seemed to come from a long way off.

Even as Slick watched in stupefaction as the dark red blood dripped onto the floor, a crackling blue light flickered across the wound, sealing it shut, as if it had never been. He swallowed hard, his own voice sounding very small and young in his ears.

"M Mac?"