Author's Note: A first foray into the Highlander world. Reviews will determine if this story continues. Kenny will be slightly out of character for now but I had always wondered if he truly escaped all the immortals he tried to con with his innocent act.
Chapter 1: Kenny Returns
Disclaimer: While I am borrowing many of the characters in the Highlander world all rights to those characters remain solely with the original creator(s). I am neither receiving nor soliciting any monetary recompense for this story.
Duncan sighed as he felt the familiar buzz of two immortals close by. He was on his morning run as was his habit, and had decided to modify his route for a change of view. The run took him down the road that would normally lead to the docks but in this case, took him past a row of townhouses that, while empty now, would be occupied by the seasonal tourists in a couple of months. The sun was making its way above the horizon, its rays bringing the gently lapping waves into view. He hadn't had a challenge or even felt the presence of another immortal in nearly a month, a change he enjoyed.
He was nearly back to his car having nearly finished the loop he had mapped out a few days prior. His eyes scanned the area, looking for the immortal, even as he reached the car, unlocked and opened the door, he glanced down to make sure his ever present katana was handy, then casually started his post run stretching, his eyes constantly scanning. He didn't have long to wait.
A tall man wearing the typical long coat that immortals favored came out of the waning shadows of the end townhouse nearest the area where Duncan had parked and walked quickly towards Duncan, drawing a sword even as he approached, intent clear in his eyes. The man slowed slightly when Duncan turned, grabbed the katana and turned back just as quickly, well before the immortal got close, the gleaming blade of the katana flashing in the rising sunlight. Increasing his speed again, the immortal raised his blade, taking a ready stance even as he said "Jerrol Flynn." Duncan brought up the katana in a parody of a salute. "Duncan MacLeod of the Clan MacLeod," Duncan gave his standard challenge acceptance and waited for Flynn to make the first move.
The fight that ensued was nearly evenly matched and took them into the shadows behind the townhouse. Even though they were trading blow for blow with no real advantage on either side, Duncan had slightly better reflexes. A wide sweeping blow from Flynn meant to take his head missed when he ducked down and Flynn was momentarily taken off balance as his speed carried his arm further than intended, slowing his return to a defensive posture. Duncan took advantage of the deadly mistake, returned to his full height in a flash and finished the fight.
Breathing heavily, Duncan stood up straight, his eyes closed for a moment as he steadied himself after the quickening only to feel the presence of another immortal. He opened his eyes, automatically bringing up his sword and scanned the area again. Fortunately, the normal weakness after a quickening was fading. Not seeing anyone, he continued to glance around and his gaze fell on the open back door of the townhouse. Cautiously, his sword in a ready position, he made his way to the door, stepping to the side to use the house as a barrier and glancing through the un-curtained window into what looked like a den or small living room. Angling his head, he didn't see anyone near the door but using caution, he stepped in front of the opening of the door and leading with his sword, stepped inside, braced for an attack. All was quiet and after verifying the room was clear, he made his way through the house. A sound to his right had him turning that way, his sword up and ready. He was getting tired of the cat and mouse game and the irritation showed in his voice.
"If you're meaning to play than come out instead of skulking about like a ghost," Duncan taunted. There was no answering voice, no one appearing but Duncan detected a slight movement in what appeared to be a closet. Moving towards it, he could see the door was just barely cracked open. He used the tip of his sword to push the door further open, fully expecting an attack when he heard what he could only describe as a whimper. He glanced in…and down, and then stepped fully into the open doorway.
Crouched in the corner, an arm wrapped protectively over their head, trembling and crying, was what appeared to be a child. Male or female Duncan couldn't tell but he realized this was the immortal he had felt. Groaning inwardly, he imagined this was a new immortal and his protective instincts kicked in.
"Hey there," he said gently, crouching down but not reaching out just yet. "I'm Duncan. It looks kinda cramped in there and uncomfortable. Why don't you come out so we can talk a bit. No one is going to hurt you."
The figure in the closet slowly lowered its arm and lifted its head and Duncan's eyes went wide as he quickly stood, his sword again at the ready as he swore in Gaelic.
This was no new immortal child, it was Kenny.
"Get out here," Duncan growled, his voice hard and cold as he looked at the 800 year old immortal forever stuck in a 10-year old child's body. The body might have been small but Kenny had survived 800 years as an immortal, luring unsuspecting and kind hearted immortals into taking him in, then he would repay their kindness by taking their head. He had tried it with Duncan, twice, and had failed. Duncan had sworn after the second time that he wouldn't be taken in again.
"Don't push me Kenneth," Duncan continued. "Get out here now before I decide to put you out of my misery and take your head myself."
Duncan's brow furrowed a bit in confusion when the boy didn't move, only cringed further into the closet, his arm back over his head. Kenny had never been the quiet type, his temper, as well as foul and sarcastic mouth, had always been ready with a reply. He had never been one to hide once his true persona was known and Kenny was well acquainted with Duncan; this act simply wasn't necessary.
Running out of patience Duncan leaned over simply grabbing Kenny's arm and hauling the kid out even as the boy emitted a near scream. Startled, Duncan dropped the boy's arm, glanced down, and froze. Kenny was cradling his arm and was doubled over it in a protective manner his other hand under the arm in support. Duncan put a gentle but firm hand under Kenny's chin, lifting it, and he took a deep breath. The boy's face was battered and bruised, his right eye nearly swollen shut. His right wrist was obviously broken and from the looks of it, the shoulder was dislocated as well. Kenny was trembling, tears making tracks on the dirty face. The boy was stick thin and his clothes were ripped and as equally filthy as his face. Duncan's heart shuddered. Putting his sword down, but keeping it nearby, he crouched down in front of Kenny, bringing his hand up to gently brush the hair back from Kenny's eyes, only to once again freeze as Kenny flinched away in fear.
"Easy now," Duncan said gently. "I'm sorry lad, it wasn't my intention to hurt you. Kenny, what happened to you?" Duncan asked, even as he began to examine the boy. The bruises on the boy's face would heal easily enough and after a quick examination, the wrist wouldn't be a problem but the shoulder would have to be put back into place before the healing would have any effect. Running his hands over the boy with practiced efficiency, he could detect no other major injuries that would need attention to help the healing process along. Realizing he hadn't gotten an answer, he looked at Kenny's pale face and once again, slowly, raised his hand and gently cupped the boy's face, wiping absently at the tears that continued to fall. He had seen this boy boiling mad, acting like an angel, snarling like a tiger and swearing like a sailor; he had never seen him show any sign of weakness, beyond what Kenny wanted someone to see, and he had certainly never seen the boy in actual tears; he was, to say the least, stunned. Duncan could already see signs the healing process was working as a few of the bruises had already faded and the swelling around Kenny's eye was nearly gone though Kenny remained still and silent even as the trembling continued.
"I need to get that shoulder back into place or it won't heal properly," he said as he positioned his hands. "I'm sorry lad, this isn't going to be hurt something fierce but it'll be over quick," Duncan said gently and with a quick jerk the shoulder popped back into place. Kenny cried out, his knees buckling. Only Duncan's quick support kept him from landing on the floor.
Duncan helped Kenny over to a couch, sat him down and placing some of the decorative pillows at one end, encouraged Kenny to lie down. He rose but Kenny grasped his hand even as he closed his eyes. Duncan sat on the edge of the couch and simply waited, monitoring the progress of the healing. It was nearly an hour later when the healing was finished and the boy's face was now back to its normal size, though still filthy and tear streaked. Kenny opened eyes that were no longer swollen but were drooping in fatigue and Duncan did a quick check to make sure the wrist and shoulder had healed. Knowing he couldn't leave the boy alone in this state, he stood up and by way of his grip on Kenny's still trembling hand, helped him to sit up and then urged him to stand, keeping a hold of him until he was sure Kenny was steady.
"Let's get out of here so we can talk," Duncan said, picking up his sword and walking to the open door, concerned that Kenny had yet to utter a word. He was surprised; again, when Kenny slipped his hand into his but just gave it a gentle squeeze as he walked Kenny to the car and settled him in the passenger seat. Kenny simply turned his head to the window, not paying any attention to Duncan. Getting in himself after putting the katana back behind the seat, Duncan drove them to the do-jo.
Duncan pulled into his private parking spot behind the dojo, turned off the ignition and glanced over at Kenny. "C'mon Kenny. I think a bath and breakfast is in order," Duncan said, getting little more than a shoulder shrug out of the boy. Duncan desperately wanted to know what had happened to Kenny but figured it could wait a bit. It was obvious the boy was exhausted and sleep probably wouldn't be too far behind once he managed to get food into the boy. He guided Kenny up the stairs, though Kenny had been here before, and opening the private door to the apartment above the dojo, ushered Kenny inside.
"Bathroom is to your right there," Duncan said. "Why don't you go in and shower while I get breakfast going. Everything you need is on the shelf." Kenny just nodded and made his way into the bathroom, shutting the door quietly behind him. Duncan moved into the kitchen and began putting together a light breakfast. From what he had seen, he doubted Kenny had eaten recently and anything too heavy or rich was likely to make him sick. A thought occurred to him and he snagged one of his clean sweatshirts out of his dresser. It would swamp the kid but it would have to do until he could wash and mend the boy's clothing, or buy more.
Duncan turned when he heard the door open and had to grin as Kenny came out swamped in one of Duncan's terry cloth robes. The boy had rolled the sleeves up but there wasn't much he could do about the length and the hem trailed behind him. His feet were bare, but at least he was clean, his blonde hair still damp. Duncan walked over and handed him the shirt. "It'll be too big but might be better than trying to keep from tripping on that robe. Use the belt from the robe to wrap the shirt so it fits better. I'll wash and see what I can do about your own clothes until we can find something else. Breakfast is ready so come on out when you are done." Taking the shirt, again, without a word, Kenny turned back to the bathroom. He came out a few minutes later, the shirt formed at his waist with the belt from the robe and reaching all the way down to the boy's knees. 'About the same length as a kilt' Duncan thought to himself.
Duncan gestured sat at the table and gestured towards the empty chair. "Have a seat. I made some toast, scrambled eggs, and there is some fruit there if you want it." He watched as Kenny moved slowly to the table, sat down and then paused, looking at Duncan, waiting…'for what' Duncan thought. "Go ahead," he said gently, holding out the plate of toast. Kenny reached for a slice, then stopped, again looking at Duncan. Confused, but not showing it, Duncan simply nodded, letting out a breath when Kenny finally took a slice and took a small bite. "Let me have your plate," Duncan said, adding a small helping of eggs when Kenny held up the plate. "Plenty more if you want some; don't hesitate to take more," Duncan smiled at him. Kenny simply turned his attention to his plate, eating slowly, taking hesitant bites and glancing up at Duncan every so often. Finishing his own breakfast, Duncan stood up, filled a small glass with milk and put it beside Kenny's plate then sat back down and waited for Kenny to finish. It seemed to take forever but finally, Kenny cleaned what little had been on his plate and to Duncan's surprise, actually drank the milk without a murmer. The last time Duncan had tried to get him to drink milk Kenny had thrown it, and the glass, at him along with some few choice words about where he could stuff his milk. "Do you want some more?" Duncan asked him, sighing as Kenny just shook his head and returned his gaze to the table; what was wrong with the kid?
"Kenny, look at me," Duncan said, his voice firm but gentle. Kenny looked up, his eyes wary. "What happened?" Duncan asked.
"N-Nuthin', I-I don' wanna talk 'bout it I'm tired," Kenny finally responded with just a hint of the sullen attitude Duncan was accustomed to hearing from Kenny.
Duncan regarded Kenny, debating whether or not to push and made the decision that maybe the kid would be more willing to cooperate after some sleep.
"OK, we can talk later but we ARE going to talk. C'mon, you can lie down for a bit," he added, standing up and gesturing towards the bed. Kenny stood up and walked over towards the bed, Duncan close behind. Pulling the covers back, Duncan waited until Kenny crawled in and then pulled the covers back over him, then sat down on the side of the bed. "You're safe here Kenny, you do know that right?" Duncan asked. To Duncan's shock, he got his answer when Kenny suddenly sat up and all but launched himself at Duncan, wrapping his arms tightly around Duncan's waist and crying wildly against his chest. At a complete loss but quickly recovering, Duncan put his arms around the boy, holding him tight, soothing the boy by rubbing his back and running his fingers down the boy's hair.
"Here now what's this?" Duncan asked, beginning to rock Kenny slightly. "It's OK lad, you're safe. Nothing is going to hurt you here. Easy now."
It took some time but eventually, Kenny's tears eased but when Duncan tried to get him to lie back down, Kenny only grabbed him tighter.
"OK, I'll stay here for a bit then," Duncan said softly, "sleep now."
Fifteen minutes later, Duncan laid the sleeping Kenny back on the bed, covering him with the blankets. Looking down at him, Duncan asked softly "what happened to you?"
Thinking for a moment, he had an idea and stepping away, he went to the phone to call Joe.