"We'll have to move thing around a bit, but we'll get you settled," Connor apologized setting up the couch for Richie.
"There's no reason," Richie told him. "I can get my own place. I had an apartment in Washington."
"Not happening. While you're in training, you live here. Besides, you're not getting a job, so you'd never be able to afford it."
"What do you mean I'm not getting a job?"
"Just what I said."
"What in hell am I supposed to do all day?"
"We'll talk about it later."
"But- -"
"Later, for now you're going to relax, take a couple days, then we'll get started." Connor checked to make sure everything was set up then looked at Richie. "This should be everything. I have some things to handle. Help yourself. If you need anything, I'm just downstairs."
Richie frowned. "So what? I just sit here all day? What about- -"
"Later. I have things to do before we get into all that."
"What things?"
"Later." Connor headed for the stairs to go down to the office.
"Why do I have the feeling I'm going to be hearing that a lot?" Richie called after him.
"Because until I'm done, that's all I have to tell you."
Alone, Richie looked around the apartment. It was set up in the top stories of what Richie assumed used to be some sort of warehouse. The main floor was wide open with a sunken living room in the center. One side was the kitchen, the other side an office type space with a desk and a piano. The whole area reminded him of an odd mix of the dojo and the antique store apartments. He began opening doors at random and found a bathroom, two broom closets, what must have been Connor's room and one room locked. Up the metal stairs and around the cat-walk was another bathroom and several storage rooms.
He went back downstairs and looked around the kitchen. There was nothing to snack on, but there was beer, he took one. There were no movies or interesting books in the living room. He lay down on the couch made up as his bed and flipped through the TV channels. Connor didn't have cable, so there was very little to choose from. He settled on a documentary about the destruction of the rainforest. A bulldozer recklessly tore through the trees while wild animals fled for their lives with sappy violin music in the background.
"Fear not little monkey, you are not alone." Richie saluted the screen with his beer bottle. "I know exactly how you feel."
He drifted in and out of fitful sleep until finally the rainforest had been fully torn down and PBS was holding the next show hostage for donations.
"I have no money for you," Richie told the TV. "If I did, I'd order pizza."
"Hungry?" Connor asked, having come back upstairs at some point during Richie's speech. "I can order us a couple pizzas." He got a menu out of a drawer and handed it to Richie. "Tell me what you want."
Suddenly, Richie was starving. He hadn't much felt like eating the past week and it chose to catch up with him now. By the time dinner arrived, two large pies, two salads, and garlic bread, they had set up a couple places on the coffee table. Connor got up while Richie set out the spread. He went to the liquor cabinet and got an old unlabeled bottle out. He uncorked it as he sat next to Richie on the couch.
"Trust me."
Richie took a swig. It burned going down, but it was good. They sat side by side, eating, drinking, not talking, the rest of the night.
When Richie woke up the next morning, the TV was off, the dinner trash cleared, and he was thankful for his immortal metabolism. He was certain he should have a horrifically blinding headache, but luckily it was only a throbbing nuisance. It distracted him from the strain in his back from sleeping on the couch. He tried stretching and bending to appease his sore muscles, but it only made him dizzy and light headed. He eased back onto the couch and closed his eyes until the nausea wore off.
"Morning."
Richie cracked open an eye at Connor's voice. "Hey."
"Coffee?"
"Please."
"Help yourself, it's in the kitchen."
"Gee, thanks," Richie grumbled, trying to gather the strength to get up.
"You're a big boy, you can do it."
"'preciate it."
Eventually Richie pried himself back off the couch and made his way into the kitchen. He saw Connor was busy on the computer on the other side of the apartment.
"So what's on tap for today?"
Connor looked up. "I told you yesterday. You get a couple days to relax, then we'll get started."
"…'kay."
Richie drank his coffee and rummaged for something to eat. He took his sweet time eating cheese toast and meticulously cleaning after himself. He went through his duffle, laying open behind the couch, and took his doc kit into the bathroom and took a long hot shower.
Richie sat on the couch reading. He wasn't sure what to do with himself. Connor was still at the computer, typing away. It was awkwardly quiet in the apartment. Neither one of them was very comfortable, or confident, in their new situation. They had barely spoken to each other all day. Richie was still grieving and Connor was still working on the details of moving the young immortal across the country and into his life. It had been a long time sine he had trained anyone or shared his home. He knew Richie and Duncan had a strong and rare relationship. He also knew how hard Duncan had to work to get that bond. He hoped Richie had matured over the last year and it wouldn't be so hard for him to get near there.
Both immortals jumped when the elevator started. Richie looked at Connor, who didn't seem too concerned.
"Remind me to get you a key."
"What are you doing home already?" a woman's voice asked as the gate lifted.
"Had a change of plans." Connor nodded in Richie's direction.
The woman leaned over the railing and look down at the teen on the couch. "Oh," she said, almost blankly, then looked back at Connor before heading down.
Richie stood up as she approached him, glad he had opted to dress.
"You're Rachel, right?" he asked, putting out his hand.
"And you're Richie." She shook it.
"Yeah."
"I didn't know you were coming to visit."
"It wasn't planned," Connor told her from his desk. "We had a family emergency."
"How bad is it?"
"Richie's moving in."
"Oh, honey, I'm so sorry." She pulled Richie into a hug. "You've had a hard time of it."
"I'm alright," he told her.
"You look tired. Are you sleeping okay?" she eyed the disheveled sheets on the couch, then Connor.
"We're working on it," Connor said looking up from the computer. "It won't kill him."
"Are you hungry, thirsty?" she asked Richie. "He never has anything around here."
"I'm fine."
"You look hungry. Is he feeding you? Do you want me to fix you something? I can order out…"
"Stop fussing over him," Connor said coming up behind Rachel giving her a hug and a peck on the cheek. "He's fine."
"Doesn't look it."
"If it makes you feel better, we'll go get some dinner as soon as I hit a stopping point."
That night they went to dinner and Richie sat awkwardly as Rachel and Connor discussed business.
"What about me?" Richie found himself asking over steaks. "I can help out."
"You have other things to do," Connor assured him. "We'll talk about that later. I want to get you started training first. Get a feel for where you are."
"You should get him a bedroom, first," Rachel told him. "He can't live on the couch."
"That will be taken care of, too."
"What other things will I have to do?" Richie asked.
"We'll talk about it later. I need to make a few arrangements first."
"For what?"
"Later. Tonight you need to get packed for a trip and get some sleep."
"Trip?"
"To gauge where you are and then make you a training schedule."
"Another cabin." Richie turned to his potato before he said anything stupid. He didn't pay attention the rest of the night. Connor and Rachel held up the conversation fine the rest of the night on their own and he was content for now to let them.
Richie woke up before the sun rose and ate silently with Connor. They took the most expensive taxi ride Richie had ever seen to some sort of resort out of town. It was hidden in the hills, a central estate with private bungalows spread out on the property.
"Not what you were expecting?" Connor asked with a grin. "I'm not as interested in roughing-it as other people."
"Me either." Richie kept looking out the window.
They arrived just before lunch and checked in and set up their cabin, situated at the back of the property. Lunch was served in the dining room in the central estate with the rest of the guests. Connor made small talk with the other people at their table while Richie mechanically ate his salad and chicken.
"His parents just died," he heard Connor explaining quietly. "He just moved in with me. My nephew."
"I'm so sorry, sweetie," an older woman put her hand on his arm.
"Uh, thanks," he fiddled with his soda. He wasn't looking forward to Connor's assessment of his skills. He really hadn't trained much. He knew the basics: don't hold the sharp end, don't let the other guy win. Other than that he had nothing.
Duncan hadn't invested much in Richie's training. They had argued about it a thousand times. Richie worked with Charlie, but it wasn't the same thing. Charlie taught him traditional fencing. Being taught to pull back did him no service against thousand-year-old immortals.
"Come on."
After lunch, Connor gestured Richie to follow him. They headed towards their cabin, but walked past it and into the woods along a nature trail.
"What are we doing?" Richie asked a quarter mile in.
"Walking."
"Walking? No lecture?"
"For what? You do something?"
"No."
"So why would I lecture you?"
Richie shrugged. "Dunno, Mac always did."
"I'm not Duncan. I loved him like a brother. We were close, but we aren't the same person. He had his ways, I have mine."
"Okay."
They walked up hill quietly until they came to a clearing. Connor stood and looked out over the view, Richie laid down in the grass and closed his eyes. He let his mind wander.
"Come here," Connor called him over. Richie got up and stood next to him. "Whatever you're carrying around right now, leave it here. That's done. If you dwell on it and leave it insides it will rot and you will rot with it." He pointed to a tree in the distance. "If you let a spark sit there, it can take out the entire forest."
"Deep."
"I'm serious. Remember that you can remember without letting it fester. It's not all of you. It's part of you, not even most of you." Connor gestured out over the view. "A small part."
Richie didn't say anything, just looked and nodded.
"Leave it here. After this, it's time to move on."
Silence.
"I wanna kill him," Richie said out of nowhere.
"When you're ready," Connor promised.
"It's all my fault. I'm so tired of it being my fault."
"Guilt will only get you killed. We don't have the luxury of feeling guilty. It only rots and hinders you."
"You never feel guilty?"
"Not over things I can't change."
"Even if it's your fault?"
"Can you change what's already happened?"
"No."
"Then you have no reason to feel guilty. You have to let it go."
"But how?" Richie couldn't believe it. He wanted desperately to, but couldn't.
"I leave it here."
"You come here a lot?"
"All the time," he admitted. "I should just buy a cabin."
There was another lengthy pause as Richie thought about what Connor had passed on to him. There wasn't anything he could do to the past. But he could help his future. He had a mission to get revenge for Duncan's death. He couldn't do it without training or guidance. He couldn't do it alone.
"I screw up a lot."
"I can help."
"I don't know what I'm doing."
"No one ever does."
"I'm not ready yet."
"You don't have to be. We can make you ready."
"I don't think I can."
"You have to." Connor stepped back and left Richie to himself. "Dinner's at seven. Do what you want. But take time to let it all go first."
Richie didn't watch him leave. He stood looking out over the vast landscape around him: hills and valleys, trees, lakes, streams, animals dotting the patches of grass. He sat down, crossed his legs and put his hands on his knees, palms up. He concentrated on his breathing. He relaxed his muscles. He thought about the events of the past two weeks, the year, his life. All the guilt he had stored inside him flooded his senses and his emotions ran from rage to despair. In one freeing satisfying scream, Richie let it all out, and listened to it echo around him. Then he got up and left, leaving it all behind him.