AN- Sorry that its taken me so long to finish this. I bet you guys were beginning to think I never would, but work has been busy and I had no time to write. This is it, over finished and complete. Hope the enjoyed the journey. I do have a new first season story in the works, which I will post when I can.

"You need to get up off that cold floor," Duncan finally found his voice. "Darius will have my hide if you catch a chill."

Slick ignored the Immortal's outstretched hand as he swayed unsteadily to his feet. "I can look after myself. Been doing it for a real long time." His voice was slurred slightly, as if he was drunk.

Duncan winced, the shock plus the blood loss was obviously taking its toll.

"I know," he spoke gently, trying not to spook him, even as he edged closer. There was a nasty looking four-inch sliver of glass much too close to the boy's right foot. "But you don't have to. Not any more."

He wasn't at all sure Slick was even listening to him. He was shockingly pale, his wide eyes and unsteady legs reminding the Scot of a frightened colt as he backed into the corner.

"Slick?"

The blonde looked at him with no sign of recognition as his skin took an unhealthy green tinge and his eyes frantically darted this way and that before he violently threw up what little he had in his stomach onto the stone floor.

Muttering a choice Gaelic curse, Duncan simply strode through the mess on the floor and kicking the refrigerator door shutreached out to scoop the boy up, intent on getting him cleaned up and back in bed as soon as possible. Afterwards, he had to admit, Slick's timing had been impeccable, as he reached across to pick up the teen he left himself wide open to the small fist that exploded his vision in a hash of red pain as it shattered his nose right across his face. It might even have worked too, if Slick hadn't been too weak and disorientated to run properly and if Duncan hadn't been a seasoned Immortal and therefore almost healed of his injury by the time he caught up with Slick struggling with the thick oak door of the vestry.

Tired, worried and feeling not a little emotional himself he caught the boy by the arm and spun him around. "What the hell was that for?"

Instantly, Slick's lip curled in a sneer and his foot flashed out in a vicious kick towards Duncan's groin, only well-honed reflexes enabled him to avoid a painful injury.

"Hey!" he protested. Anxious to avoid further damage to the boy or himself, Duncan manoeuvred him up against the door pinning his arms at his side as he attempted to calm him. "Slick, settle down!"

Still struggling hard the boy spat at him.

As the warm spittle trickled down his face, for an instant Duncan tightened his grip. The warrior in him wanting to back hand the boy clear across the room. Then he registered the wild trembling of the arms, under his clenched fingers, felt the harsh ragged breath still slightly sour with vomit on his face and looked into a pair of eyes that were flat with hopelessness and defeat as pinned and helpless the boy waited for his fate.

"Please." The single word, almost a whisper, was a helpless plea, that didn't expect to be heard.

"Its alright," Instantly releasing his hold on the boy, Duncan reached up to cup his cheek, his voice soft with reassurance. "Its alright. I'm not going to hurt you."

If anything his gentle caress made the boy pale even further and he stood, clenching and unclenching his fists in obvious distress as he tried to rear back from the touch.

"Please don't. I don't want to .."

"Ach, no laddie. Its not like that," Realisation swept through Duncan like a sick tide

Something flickered uncertainly in the blue eyes as Slick quavered. "P promise?"

"Aye. You're safe now, Da's here." From somewhere Duncan forced a smile as he pulled the boy into a paternal hug. "My word on it bonnie lad."

After that it had been a simple matter to scoop the exhausted lad up and tuck him into bed. Slick was asleep before his head hit the pillow and hadn't even stirred as Duncan, refusing Darius' assistance, had carefully sponged off all the dried blood and vomit and exchanged his soiled pyjamas for clean ones. Now he sat on a chair by the bed holding Slick's hand and pretending to read a paperback. Waiting for the first sign of life.

When the fingers in his hand twitched, he merely tightened his grip slightly, not letting the lad disengage and concentrated on turning a page of the book he wasn't reading. He was new to this parenting lark. He prayed he was doing the right thing.

"Mac?"

Affecting a nonchalant look that belied the churning in his stomach Duncan peered around the edge of his paperback and flashed a warm smile at the lad.

"Hey. You're awake."

"Please tell me that was all some nightmare and none of it actually happened."

"Sorry," Duncan deliberately kept his tone light as he returned his attention to the book. "Can't do that."

The groan from the bed would have been comical if the situation wasn't so serious. Duncan kept reading.

"I tried to kick you in the balls." Slick recalled.

"Among other things." Duncan agreed without inflection.

There was a small silence

"You're not mad."

"Not at you," Duncan agreed, calmly turning a page. His anger was reserved for those that had taken the trust of child and abused it so badly. He had every intention of tracking down Slick's foster parents and ensuring justice for his son and any others who might have suffered at their hands. But the boy didn't need to know that, at least not just yet. "Are you hungry?" He laid the book aside and picked up the menu for the local pizza place. "Its not too late to order."

"You want me to order pizza?"

"Or we could have Chinese?"

"Chinese?"

Duncan opened his mouth.

"No, alright." Slick held up a hand before Duncan could offer other food choices. "Pizza is good."

He watched utterly bemused as Duncan crossed to the phone and placed the order, adding extra pepperoni and garlic bread, just the way he liked it and then calmly settled back into his seat by the bed

"It'll be here in a minute."

"I'm sorry," Slick felt he should say something. "About before. It wasn't you. None of it was you."

"I know."

"Sometimes when I broke stuff my foster parents came down on me kinda hard," Slick made a face. "Bad memories."

"I guessed as much," Duncan nodded at his legs, safely tucked under the blanket and Slick blushed as he remembered the scars. "But you're bright enough to realise that you didn't deserve that. Any of it." He raised a brow meaningfully.

"No-one ever actually, you know," Slick could feel his cheeks burning with the embarrassment of discussing this but he felt it was important the Immortal should know.

"But they came close enough to scare you." Duncan stated matter of factly.

Slick couldn't deny that. "Yeah." He sighed.

"Bad memories are just that. Bad memories. They can't hurt you any more. Unless you let them."

"And you're not likedisgusted, or grossed out or anything?"

"Never," Actually, he was dammed proud of the lad. That he had managed to endure such trials at such a young age and still be the generous, caring soul that he was awed Duncan. But he didn't think Slick was ready to hear that just yet. Instead he offered a rueful smile. "Although, we didn't need to go through all that. You could have just told me."

Chewing on the last satisfied bit of his pizza Slick took a napkin and wiped the tomato sauce off his now healed hand. Flexing it in curiosity. "So, I'm like you now, aren't I? I'm Immortal."

Beside him on the couch, Duncan admitted defeat and closed the lid of his Pizza box with two slices still inside. "You always were."

"Not like this," Slick waggled his now healed hand."Are you eating that?"

"Go for it," Duncan passed over the box. "I was going to tell you."

"Oh yeah, like there's a Hallmark card for that occasion," Slick opened the box and chewed on the end of a slice. "How do you normally tell someone?"

"It's been different every time," Duncan considered. "Usually, the hardest thing is telling people that they can't stay with their loved ones." Beside him Slick flinched. Just slightly, Duncan probably wouldn't even have noticed it if he hadn't been sitting so close to him that their bodies touched all down his right side. "Hey," He nudged the boy gently. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Slick put down the Pizza, his appetite suddenly lost. "So, now I have to go out and fight other Immortals, right?"

"Well, not right away," Duncan allowed. No wonder the lad was so jumpy if that was what he thought. At least, with Ares dead Duncan knew he had the luxury of time. "First you have to learn to use a sword and then there are other skills, like how to fake a new identity."

"I can do that," Slick seized on the idea eagerly. "I could learn to say stuff in French and I'll buy one of those backpacks all the kids seem to have and have my hair cut like they do."

"I'm sure you could," After all Connor had spent so much time in France many people on first acquaintance took him for a native. "But I think for a while at least you'd be better off in Seacouver."

Slick swallowed hard, his knuckles going white as he clenched his fists in his lap.

"Look, I'm sorry I've been so annoying. I'll be quieter. I won't ask so many questions. I'll eat anything you like snails, even. Just please don't make me go back there."

Duncan blinked. He'd expected the lad to be excited that he was going home, back to familiar things like hamburgers and basketball. Instead, he looked downright miserable.

"You don't want to go home?"

"To what? A bunch of strip malls and seedy lounge clubs?" Slick shook his head. "No thanks."

"What about your friends?" Duncan remembered him mentioning a girl. "I bet Angie misses you."

"She'll get over it. She's used to me dropping out of sight."

Every time he was pulled across town to a new school district. Every time his foster parents tried to make him into something he wasn't. Every time they hurt him so badly he'd hit the streets and not risk contacting anyone from his past in case they found him.

"But .." Duncan paused. Tessa had warned him that Slick might be frightened of the change. But he'd been so sure that the lad would be thrilled to be going home, he'd wanted to surprise him. He'd made all the arrangements without even asking the boy whether he wanted to be uprooted again. Still. "Slick, we can't stay here .."

"We can't?" Slick looked up a flicker of hope dawning in his eyes. "You mean you're coming too?"

"Of course. You didn't think we'd abandon you, did you?" Duncan joked. But as he looked at the boy's tight, drawn expression, he realised that was exactly what he had thought.

"You said," Slick insisted. "You said I had to leave my loved ones and then you said and I thought .." Tears threatened in his voice and he stopped, swallowing hard.

"Oh laddie," Duncan murmured, without thinking leaning over to kiss the blonde curls as his own father would have done. "I didn't mean that. Most don't know about Immortals. It's not safe. Also people usually die in front of witnesses and its easier for the family to accept that loss, than a few years down the line spend the rest of their lives worrying because their loved one has simply disappeared without trace, because too many people have begun to notice he's not aging."

"But you're taking me back to Seacouver. And I'm not going to get any older than this, right?"

"Well, no. But there are things you can do to look older," Duncan shrugged. "And we can always get you a fake ID." They would have to move on sooner or later of course. But right now he wanted the boy to have the comfort of familiar things around him.

"A fake ID? Really?" Slick perked up, alive with the possibilities. Then he slumped. "Oh man."

"What?"

"You'll laugh."

"No I won't. I swear."

"You say that now." Slick warned.

"This wouldn't have anything to do with you being carded for the rest of your life would it?" Duncan knew he had hit the nail on the head by the expression that flashed across Slick's face. "Richie mentioned something about it." He explained himself. Several times in fact.

"I don't know if I could have been him," Slick's voice was suddenly very quiet. "I mean, I'd love to say I'd rather be tortured than give up my friends and I would you know. That's what I'd rather do. I just don't know if I could be that guy .." He trailed off, bright blue eyes looking at Duncan clouded with uncertainty.

"No one knows what he or she is truly capable of until they are tested," Duncan regarded him solemnly. "I happen to think you stood up pretty well."

"Me. I didn't do nothing."

"No. You did something. You killed Ares."

"Yeah, when the guy was down. Great hero that makes me."

And the boy was nothing but a bairn who couldn't hope to beat a seasoned warrior with centuries more experience in a fair fight. Still, Duncan doubted that argument would cut much ice with Slick.

"You saved your father's life," Duncan corrected gently. "And your mother's and your sister's. And the life of any person with a shred of goodness and decency in them on this planet."

Slick digested that for a second.

"Well, if you put it like that." He gave a bashful shrug.

"I do." Duncan hugged him under his arm.

"It's going to be different for us, isn't it? I mean, Richie never knew Mac was his Dad. Not for the longest time."

"That reminds me," Duncan shifted Slick's weight a little as he reached inside his pocket to access the list Richie had given him. "They left us a list."

"Yeah?" Slick leant over a little so he could see. "What does it say?"

"Number one," Duncan read. "Lose the ugly green and blue jacket."

"Hey, I like that jacket." Slick protested.

"I'm just reading what it says here," Duncan defended himself. "You like it. You keep it."

"Well good. I'm gonna." Slick huffed.

"Alright, number two .." Duncan read on as Slick suddenly reached out and seized his arm.

"What if something bad happens because I kept it? What if like the fate of the world depends on me ditching it? I mean it is kinda gross. Its just it's a proper racing jacket and it was hard enough to find one second hand I could afford. It wasn't like I could be picky about the colours."

"How about we buy you a new one? You've probably almost outgrown the old one anyway," Duncan offered. Even if the fate of the world didn't depend on it, Duncan was pretty sure that Tessa's sense of artistic integrity would struggle to come to terms with Slick's wardrobe.

"Black?" Slick grinned. "With a huge scull and crossbones on the back?"

"Brown," Duncan countered, already imagining Tessa's reaction to a mini Hell's Angel in their midst. Adding with a wink and a nudge before the boy's face could fall. "It'll bring out the colour of your eyes. The girls won't be able to resist you."

"I can live with that. What's behind door number two?"

"Get your hair cut."

"What is this?" Slick scowled. "Some kinda cosmic makeover? I like my hair just fine as it is."

"Um. I think that one's for me." Duncan wasn't at all sure why his future self wanted him to cut his hair. He was dammed if he was mourning for Ares. But on second thoughts it seemed only fitting to honour Richie's memory in some tangible manner. After all, his sacrifice has given Slick a chance at a more peaceful future.

"Number three," Duncan's lips thinned. "Give Joe Dawson a large bottle of the best whiskey money can buy and tell him everything. He's a good man and a better friend than you deserve."

"You don't like him much, huh?"

"I don't know him." And didn't want to know him if his idea of honour was to stand by with a video camera like some snuff movie producer as innocent people were gunned down in the street.

"You don't think maybe you should thank him, for keeping Ares off Richie's trail?" Slick tipped his head on one side. "Or maybe, that you owe him something for not reporting all these Immortals hanging around and bumping into themselves to Watcher central or whatever it's called."

"I'm not responsible for what Dawson does." Duncan countered stiffly.

"And this dude isn't responsible for whatever his other self did that's got you all tied up in knots. C'mon, Mac. We're all working from a clean sheet here, wouldn't you rather have Dawson on our side, than lurking around in the shadows? At least talk to the guy."

"Slick." Duncan warned. "Let it go."

"Sure," Slick shrugged, pulling a little away from him. "I mean, what do I know. I'm only a kid. If you're not gonna listen to your older and wiser self, who obviously thinks that making nice with Dawson is the way to go, then hey. Who the hell am I to argue."

Duncan sighed. Much as he hated to admit it the boy was right. And he'd be more likely to earn his respect by doing the right thing than holding on to his stubborn pride.

"Alright. I'll talk to the man. But he's not having my best malt. The man runs a bookstore for Lord's sake. It'd be wasted on him."

"You probably tried that last time and screwed things up. It says right here, give him the good stuff. Maybe the guy's a closet barkeep or something."

"Oh, all right, we'll do it your way wiseguy," Duncan conceded. "What's next?"

Slick opened his mouth to read the next line and stilled.

"Richie married her, you know." Duncan said, having gently plucked the list out of his lifeless hands.

"Yeah," Slick's voice was rough. "And then she died."

"Its says here that this formula will save her. And countless other people like her I imagine."

"Its gotta be expensive."

"I can afford it."

"So, set up a foundation, build at new wing at the Seacouver General, or something," Slick shrugged. "Just leave me out of it."

"Slick, Richie loved Cassidy Graham enough to marry her. Are you telling me you don't even want to see her again?"

He knew the easiest thing would be to lie to him. It was simple, quick and didn't invite any awkward questions. But somehow he just couldn't.

"Its not a good idea," he sighed. "Stuff happened. And then she got all famous. She can have anyone she wants. She ain't gonna pick me."

"She picked Richie."

"Because she was sick and dying and scared. Because there was no-one else for her and she didn't want to be alone. That's all I ever was for her. As soon as she could move onto something better she blew me off."

"Tell me." Duncan insisted gently.

"Macleod you can't solve everything."

"You need to tell someone. And I'm right here."

For a moment he thought it wasn't going to work. Even though he knew the boy had clearly been carrying around this hurt for far too long, but to his great relief Slick sighed and began to talk.

"He got really drunk. More than usual. She was gonna leave him. He figured he'd just replace her with Cass. She was only 14. I got between them. He almost killed me. I spent some time in the Hospital. When I got out she'd been adopted by these real nice folk and the next time I heard from her she was on MTV."

"Richie told me she never got your letters. The social workers thought it was best. They intercepted your correspondence and that's why you never got her letters either."

"She really wrote to me?" Slick hardly dared to believe.

"From what Richie said she never stopped loving you. Maybe you should give her a chance."

"Its not like I have her number in my Rolodex." Still, his eyes were hopeful.

"We'll sort it out." Duncan promised. An unlisted phone number shouldn't be too hard to trace. Not with friends in all sorts of high places. He wondered if Connor was still officially attached to the CIA.

"So, what's next?" Slick snagged the list back and quickly scanned it. "Its gotta say there somewhere how you can save Tess too, right?"

"Hope so." Duncan acknowledged. He already knew enough not to let her go walking down dark alleys alone at night. One day she would die. He had always known that. But now he was more determined than ever to make her life as rich and full as he could and every second that they were together. Just as soon as they were settled in Seacouver he was going to ask her to marry him.

"Ask Methos about the Hunters?" Slick frowned. "What does that mean?"

"I have no idea. What else does it say?"

"It doesn't. I guess, we'll have to ask Methos," Richie dismissed it. "Hey what about this? Tell Amanda that under no circumstances should she ever befriend an Immortal named Stephen Keane. What do you think that's about?"

"With Amanda, who knows? Maybe he's a bounty hunter."

"Or has a bunny boiling ex-lover."

"You're too young to know about such things."

Slick waggled his eyebrows. "Shows what you know."

"Although telling Amanda not do something is like waving a red rag at a bull. If I tell her not to go, she'll go just to find out what might have happened."

"So, maybe that's what's supposed to happen," Richie reasoned. "Us telling Amanda not to go makes sure that she does go, so that whatever is gonna happen happens."

Duncan crinkled his brow as he tried to digest that. "Maybe." He conceded doubtfully.

"What's next?" Slick read on eagerly. "Whoa, tell Connor he has to learn to surf? How's that gonna save the world?"

"I have no idea."

Privately Duncan thought that instruction probably had far more to do with encouraging his kinsman to spend time with Slick. The two hadn't exactly got off to a good start and maybe seeing that the Immortal wasn't infallible might cut down on some of those months of Slick glowering that Richie had mentioned.

"Its a joke, right? A guy of his age gotta have learnt how to surf somewhere along the line."

"Not Connor. He's never been very comfortable in the water. He says its cold and wet and dammed uncomfortable."

"But you said he was like this amazing sailor."

"In my experience most Captains try to keep their boats on the water not in it."

"Well, shit," A slow grin spread across Slick's face as he realised there was something he could do better than the Immortal. "Everyone in Seacouver learns how to surf. Its like there's a law or something."

"Well, there's a first, you obeying the law." Duncan teased. Slick quickly changed the subject.

"How many more are there?"

Duncan took back the sheet. "Methos has to meet a College student called Alexa in 1994 if he wants to save her life."

"Whoa, like no pressure."

"He mentioned her." Duncan reflected sadly.

"Oh man. She died didn't she?" Slick realised.

"He didn't meet her until 1995. She had already dropped out of College and was working part time as a waitress at some bar to fit in her treatments. But it was already too late." Duncan forced a smile. "Let's hope this time things will be different."

"What's a Do .. something," Slick was duckinghis head to read the other side of the paper.

"A Dojo?" Duncan turned the page over and quickly scanned the text. He wouldn't have the time to devote to another business. Not with Tessa and Slick to take care of. But his other self seemed to think it was important. Perhaps he would suggest it to Connor. It was high time his kinsman left New York anyway.

"What's next?" Slick asked.

Um, .."Duncan glanced back at the paper, "Marriage advice for Fitzcairn."

Slick did a double take. "Fitzcairn? Marriage? He didn't seem like the type."

"He isn't." Duncan said dryly. "Somefortune hunting blonde is going to take him for every penny and then take his head."

Slick swallowed hard. "I thought all the evil Immortals were supposed to be defeated when Ares died."

Duncan shrugged. "Not every bad guy in the world is an Immortal."

"Ain't that the truth," Slick took the paper back. "Alright, career advice for Darius, now he doesn't have to stay on Holy Ground he should get out more. Open a school or something. And .. hey, no-one told me Mom was married. I thought she and Methos were an item."

"I think they used to be." Duncan acknowledged. And probably would be again at some point in the future. It was the way of their kind.

Slick wasn't listening, his eyes widening slightly at something else he was reading "Um, Dad, I think maybe you should look at this."

Duncan took the paper curiously and read the words written sure and true in his own unmistakable hand. Then read it again. And even as his rational mind reeled from the newly discovered somehow he felt that he had always known.

"Darius," he swallowed hard. "Darius is my father."

"Man, this is just like Star Wars," Slick beamed. "You think maybe I have a twin?"

"Try a secret identity." Duncan said dryly, passing the letter back so Slick could read the final paragraph.

"That is not true," Slick shook his head. "That is sooo not true."

"Slick, its only six months." Duncan tried to comfort him.

"It might be six months to you, to me it's a whole year," Slick fumed. "How come you didn't know about this? You were there weren't you?"

"Rebecca and I were together almost eight months. If she fell pregnant towards the end of that time the dates still fit."

"But why would she change that?" Slick fretted. "Why write September when I wasn't born until the following March? How could she do this to me?"

"There could be any number of reasons. Maybe, Ares was following you. Maybe you were just too bright and curious for your own good and this was the only way she could get the school district to let you start school early. Its not really that big a deal."

It was clearly the wrong thing to say.

"Not that big a deal?" Slick spluttered. "I'm only fifteen"

"Slick, its not the end of the world," Duncan reasoned. Then paused. "Hold on a minute. You told me you were seventeen. You only lost six months."

"Ah," Slick gave him a sheepish grin. "That's a whole other story."

"You can tell me," Duncan smiled dangerously at him. "After all, we have plenty of time."

Nothing changed, at least, not at first.