Blue Eyes Crying in the Rain

by Tanya Reed

Here's some more; I hope you like it. This one takes place in the United States. Thanks to everyone who has reviewed so far...BethinSg, britduck21, adcii27, Super Chocolate Bear, Heather-Lass, and nedfan.

Disclaimer: I still don't own Due South.

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December 9, 1724

Benton Montgomery stared out of the window into the cold New England winter. Snow was falling gently from the sky, covering the ground with a sprinkling much like that in his hair. He was an old man, and he felt every year of it. The pain in his knees, the wrinkles on his face, the wandering of his mind, all these tended to remind him. However, Benton did not fear death, he welcomed it.

This thought almost made him smile as his gaze turned to the sky. It had been a long time since he had smiled. Thirty five years this coming summer. His once sharp mind was annoying in the keeping of that detail.

His questing gaze picked out a star--the only one visible on this snowy night. It burned brightly and seemed to call to him. It had been so long, so very long.

Sometimes, like today, Benton couldn't remember what the date was, or where he was born, or what his dog's name was, but always he remembered her. Meg.

Meg the beautiful; Meg the fiery; Meg the enchanting. Meg of the deep brown eyes; Meg of the sultry laugh; Meg of the gentle hands.

Once more anger and hatred gripped his gut, and he was too old to remember why he had kept it hidden so long ago. Now, every night, he sat at the window and cried for her, for the love that did not die on that day.

Meg had been intelligent, she wanted to learn everything. She did not believe that women had weak minds and bodies, only that society had forced them to think so. Her fiery, proud nature had made her refuse suitor after suitor and, in a scandalizing move, decide to live by herself in her parents little cottage. Her soft heart made her take in anything hurt and alone and frightened. That is how Benton had met her.

He had been out in the woods--hunting rabbits, he believed. That part was fuzzy. There was a fall, a terrible fall, and he lost consciousness. He remembered waking up in a bed, warm and feeling more safe than he ever had in his life. Opening his eyes, he saw a concerned face looking down at him. He fell in love with that face immediately. She was absolutely beautiful, with pale skin and eyes that he could drown in.She asked if he was all right, if he could remember who he was, and she told him he would have to stay with her until he was well. Those were the happiest three months of his life.

Eventually, though, both of them had to admit that under her knowledgeable administrations he had grown fit once more. He had to leave her and go home. Benton balked at the thought but Meg, she had insisted. She forced him to go, and when he tried to show her how he felt, she turned her back on him. It broke his heart, but he was determined to someday prove his love to her. And that someday might have come, if not for...

Benton closed his eyes and lay his head on the windowsill, letting the coolness ease his blazing cheeks. He could feel the tears coming, and he did not try to stop them. It had taken a long time for him to be able to cry.

He had been sitting in his livingroom on that fateful day--not this livingroom, he had sold that house long ago--reading, one of his many dogs at his feet. Hearing a noise, he drew his brows together in a frown.

"What could that be?" he asked the dog, but she didn't reply.

Putting a piece of paper in his book to mark the place, Benton got up and went to the window. Moving the curtain, he peered outside to see several people gathered in the street. His frown deepened as he heard angry murmuring come from them. Moving to the front of the house, he opened the door so her could hear what was being said. His ears were exceptional, but with everyone talking at once, there was only one word he could catch, repeated over and over.

"...witch..."

Benton rubbed his eyebrow with a knuckle. He had seen a witch hunt before. It was not pretty. Somehow, people who claimed to be completely logical lost control at the mere thought of magic. He wondered what poor soul they were going to kill this time.Then a whispered name reached his ears, and his blood ran cold.

Meg!

All calmness in Benton vanished as he ran to get his coat. Maybe, maybe if he was quick, he could warn his love in time. He fairly flew through the trees, Tucker at his heels.

As he approached her cabin, he saw a crowd of people surrounding it. Some had torches, others pitchforks or knives.

"Meg!" he cried as he saw two men dragging his dear savior out of her home, a home that was already aflame. They were rough with her, but she walked proudly between them, her head held high.

They think Meggie's a witch; they think Meggie's a witch kept running through Benton's mind as he took in the fact that her wrists were scratched and bleeding from the ropes her captors had put around them.

The people nearby began to shout obscenities. Benton winced and then felt a knot of anger as they began spitting and throwing things--vegetables, stones, branches. Meg couldn't even wipe the spit from her face.

"It's time for your test," one of the men said, pulling her along by the hair.

"No. Stop." Benton found his voice and tried to push his way through the mob.

They pushed back. He struggled, desperately trying to reach Meg. As the crowd moved, he was swept along with them. A chant started to vibrate around him. Benton gritted his teeth, not giving up the struggle.

"Witch...witch...witch...witch..."

Each time they said the word, it was like a brand being pressed to his heart. In his mind, he saw all the good that Meggie had done. He thought of all the love he had for her but had decided to wait to express. He refused to let her die before he could tell her.

A flash of color through the crowd caught his eye. Tucker. The dog was weaving through legs and weapons at a frantic rate. For the first time, Benton began to have some hope.

He saw Tucker lunge at the man holding Meggie. The man yelled, trying to beat the dog off. Another man moved to help his friend. Meg pushed away and it looked like she was going to break free--until someone else moved forward and hit her with a hoe.

Benton screamed her name again as she fell heavily to the dirt. The triumphant woman who had hit her grinned in satisfaction, a zealous glint in her eyes.

His mind was so intent on Meggie, he almost didn't hear Tucker's yelp as she was violently pushed away. Part of him hoped she was all right, but most of him was lying on the ground with the woman he loved.

"...we won't even have to tie her. Just hold her under..."

"...if she awakens..."

"...work magic unconscious?"

Finally Benton managed to wedge himself in between the people in front of him. Wriggling, he moved forward slowly until eventually he was on the edge of the crowd, which was moving towards the river.

"Stop it," he called. "This is foolishness. You're trying to kill an innocent girl."

The man who had scooped up Meg, a man Benton had known all of his life, turned.

"Go home, Benton. You can't save everyone. This here girl is a witch. We have to stop what's been going on around here--sickness and death."

"It's been a bad year, but that's no reason to kill Margaret Bain."

The man nodded to the people standing on either side of Benton and he felt his arms being gripped tightly from either side. He struggled to break free, but the hands got tighter.

"Let me go," he said calmly.

"Take Benton home. He doesn't understand the seriousness of what's going on here, like when he hid that escaped murderer last year..."

"Jim was innocent."

This got him a pitying look. "Well, a jury hung and convicted him."

Then he nodded.

Benton found himself being dragged backwards-- away from Meggie. All of his struggles and cries were unsuccessful in both freeing himself and getting them to free her.His last glimpse of her was a large man tightly tying her to a huge post. He knew what would come next. His mind numbed a the thought of them plunging a helpless Meg under the water until she drowned.

He cried out her name one more time, hoping she could hear him, then settled into the hands that were holding him. He knew that, for the rst of his life, the image of her limp form would haunt him. He would never sleep again.