He dreamed.
Golden firelight. Soft skin, gentle words, quiet laughs. Soft cries of pleasure, low groans, and sighs. He woke feeling utterly alone.
He sat up, stared around the neatly furnished sterile room. His skin prickled with sweat and cold. The room felt winter cold. He peeled his blanket back and walked to the nearby window. It was wide open. The view looked down onto the rectangular grass area at the heart of the Sanctuary. It was carefully mown and emerald green. He closed the window with a shiver and turned back to his bed. It was barely dawn, he could sleep for a few more hours and no one would care.
He sat on the bed and let his fresh grief for John come. Let the tears warm his cheeks, the sobs rack his chest. Another one lost. Eventually sleep and more dreams arrived.
He was back in that firelit room, that one perfect evening that epitomized the best of their trio. Helen was in his arms, her soft back against his chest. John knelt at her feet, tickling her knees and trading looks with Ben.
He blinked and hours passed. Helen was asleep in front of the fire naked and smiling. John was wearing only a blanket staring at Helen and the fire. Ben watched the two of them, content. John turned and smiled at him, predatory, lustful.
Ben returned the smile, rose to his feet and strode to John. John stared up at Ben, dark eyes smiling. He raised a hand, Ben knelt and John cupped Ben's cheek in his broad palm.
"Such delicate beauty." John breathed. Ben laughed and kissed John's palm. John rose, chest to chest with Ben, wrapped his hands around Ben's head and kissed him savagely. Ben's breathing grew ragged and harsh as the embrace grew closer, harder.
Ben broke the kiss and stared into John's eyes.
"Do you want me?" He asked softly. By way of answer John kissed him once more, pulling him close, wrapping his strong arms around Ben's lithe torso, thrust his groin against Ben's.
He woke again. Heartsick and gutted. His groin stirred, woken and engorged by the dream memory. Tears on his cheeks. Desolate. By the light from the window it was past midday.
Someone knocked softly on his door. He didn't respond. It opened a crack and an eye peered at him. He stared at it blankly. The door opened further and Helen entered. She sat on the bed near his hip. He was naked, had kicked the blankets away during the dream, only a thin sheet covered him up to his lower ribs. He was facing Helen.
"We didn't give you any time did we?" Helen said gently. She brushed a stray lock out of his face.
"He died well Ben, for love, I..I tried to stop him but, he wouldn't have it any other way. You know John, once he made up his mind."
"He was never the Ripper, not really." Methos said quietly. Helen nodded.
"Not even he knew Ben."
Methos rolled onto his back, stared at the ceiling.
"Kim?"
"Is comfortable. Once we send them back she'll be theirs to deal with."
"Any progress?"
"That doesn't matter right now Ben." Helen chided.
He closed his eyes.
"I don't…have time to mourn. "
"Do you ever?" She asked picking up his left hand and holding it in both of hers.
He didn't answer.
"Ben, take the time, you're safe here, this is consecrated ground. You can't help them get back, right now you need to mourn, to heal."
He still remained quiet and still.
"I'll send Will with some food for you later." She offered.
"Don't bother, I'll be fine." He sighed and rolled onto his side, back to her. She sighed and rose.
"I'll be back." She promised and quietly left. He waited until his body recovered from the dream and then rose. He stood naked in front of the window staring sightlessly down at the grass. After a few minutes he dressed. Jeans, boots, long sleeve t-shirt with his characteristic baggy sweater.
He left the room, not bothering to close the door behind him and drifted through the halls of the sanctuary. It was well past dinner. He assumed most of the staff and guests were relaxing or working or sleeping. He found his way down to the SHU where the most dangerous and hostile of the Sanctuary's guests were housed. Including Kim.
Methos found her cell. A fairly large room with a neat cot and blankets a glass wall allowed the denizen to see out and observers to see in. He stood in front of it watching her. She was sleeping. She seemed very young asleep, almost a child. He wondered what had motivated her, he'd known women like her most of his life. They saw the world as perpetually hostile, used their sex, their appeal as a conquest or something to be saved to manipulate the world at large. He had rejected her, as harshly as he could. Without meaning to he had earned her enmity for life. That he had further exposed her in front of the residents and her own people had only solidified his standing as her enemy.
If they couldn't be sent back to their home, he would have to kill her or disappear. She would never forget him and was incapable of understanding let alone forgiving his actions.
He watched as she scratched her nose in her sleep. An unconscious, childish gesture. It reminded him of one of his daughters. He could see her face in his mind's eye, but he couldn't remember her name. She had loved the sweet pink berries that ripened in the summer, her mother would pick them for her and teach her how to dry them. He remembered her face smeared with pink juices, laughing as he held her in the air.
Tears wet his cheeks once more.
"Methos?" It was Will's voice. Methos turned toward the younger man. Will was holding a sheaf of papers in his hands, some kind of file. He looked surprised and concerned.
"Are…are you okay?"
Methos didn't try to speak just resumed watching Kim.
"She won't be able to get out."
"She'll never forgive me for it." Methos said.
"No, she won't, it's not in her nature." Will agreed. He stepped to Methos' side and watched Kim with him for a moment.
"Can I ask you a question?"
Methos didn't respond.
"Why did you react so violently to her accusation?"
Methos was silent for a long moment.
"Have you ever been raped?"
"No."
"I have, I've also been a rapist."
Will carefully did not react. Methos assumed Helen had given him a rundown on Methos' past. Or what she knew of it.
"Is that why you reacted the way you did?"
"I was raped first, before I became a rapist, I think that's important."
He kept staring at Kim, Will was focused solely on Methos.
"To become that…after… I was a monster, I'm sure Magnus has told you what I did, what I was… it was a way to be safe, to defend myself. If I was the monster, the darkness then nothing could ever get me. Do you understand?"
Will nodded.
"It doesn't matter if you do. Kronos. He… persuaded me to that role of thinking. You see then, if you were a stranger to a place you were subject to distrust and suspicion, it didn't take much to get you killed. A dead calf, a missing item and you were the first suspect and usually killed for it. I was a perpetual stranger, no family and since I didn't age I had to move often. I was always a stranger, always a suspect, always a victim."
"Victim?"
Methos was silent again.
"And now, because of her it's all here again, all that pain and guilt that confusion. It's all here right now and… I don't, I don't have time for it."
"Methos…I –"
"I'm fine Will." Methos interrupted and started to walk away.
"Methos, wait you can't just dump that on me and walk away, Methos!" Will called after the immortal, but he was gone.
"Shit." Will sighed.
"You're serious?" Xander asked eagerly.
Magnus smiled at him.
"Yes, if these readings are correct then we should be able to extrapolate a method with which to modify our E.M. shield to create temporary doorway to another reality, the real trick is going to be insuring that it is your reality we reach."
"Right, so…how?" Buffy asked.
"Well with Willow's help I've been able to find a key energy signature that all of you and most of your belongings have in common. Hopefully we can use that signature to zero in on your reality. It's going to take some time but it should be feasible."
"I sense a but." Buffy said.
"Yes well because we do not know how much time we will have once we've established a connection we need you all to stay nearby."
"So we're on lockdown?"
"Only temporarily, ideally we will establish a connection, confirm it is your reality and then get all of you over in one go."
"If not?"
"It may take several trips."
"Right, well then, guess we're all grounded then." Xander sighed.
"Not quite yet, we still have a week or so of tests to conduct. Until then you are free to come and go as you wish." Helen said with a smile.
"So basically best case scenario we could be home in a week?"
"It's possible but unlikely, more likely it will take quite a bit more time."
"He is extremely unstable Magnus. Look if you keep him here you have to be prepared for what that might mean-"
"Would you prefer I cut him loose? Let him fend for himself? His kind will kill him if they find him, especially in his current state. If I push him out that door that is exactly what will happen."
"I know that, but if you don't take steps to help me help him he's going to have a meltdown."
"What do you suggest Will? Medication? A padded room?"
"He spontaneously confessed to being a longterm victim of abuse and an abuser himself. What does that tell you?"
"He's in crisis, I realize that Will but until we get Xander and Buffy's people home there's not much we can do for him."
"That's a cop out Magnus, there's always some kind of emergency looming, if you don't take a few moments now then he'll become one of them."
"Will, I appreciate your input on this – "
"Helen. I don't know what I'm not saying or what I could say to get through to you. He's dangerous when he's in control okay? Think about what he could do, what could happen if he loses control."
"Will, you are correct, I promise as soon as this situation is resolved I will do what needs to be done, until then I trust you to be there for him and help him as much as you can."
"Fine." Will sighed.
Magnus watched him for a moment.
"I want you to understand that I care a great deal about Ben Will but I don't have the time, or the capacity to deal with him right now."
"Deal with him?" Will asked carefully.
Magnus was silent.
"He's not a pet Helen, or a child, he's a grown man, a very very old man that you owe an immense debt to. You've treated him badly and now he needs you to do right by him."
"Will, if you could go spend some time with him I would appreciate it, I have work to do." Magnus said coldly. She turned back to her work dismissing him. Will swallowed his frustration and left quietly.
Methos was watching TV in a common room. Or, more accurately he had the TV on. Xander was asleep in an easy chair nearby. His soft ragged snores competed with the raucous clatter from the television. Will watched Methos for a few seconds. The man's eyes weren't glazed but he stared unwatching at the screen. Blinking reflexively.
"Hey." Will said, not wanting to startle Methos. Methos' eyes drifted over to Will, looked him up and down and returned to the TV screen.
Will took that as a good sign and entered the room. He sat on the opposite end of the same couch as Methos.
The show on TV was something about meerkats. The narrator was very excited and each meerkat had an individual name. Will frowned at it.
"Are you actually watching this? 'Cause I gotta say, not that exciting." Will said rhetorically. He picked up the remote and started flipping through the channels. Methos shifted and searched through his pockets, he pulled out a cigarette lighter and a pack of cigarettes.
Will watched as he lit the cigarette and took a long drag. He stretched slightly and then sat with the cigarette in his right hand, held loosely, took the occasional drag. Will flipped through the channels until he found something mildly entertaining.
They sat like that for three hours. Methos smoked half his pack. No one spoke.
It was the most excruciatingly awkward three hours of Will's life.
Methos sat in the common room all night, through the morning and until just after lunch when his cigarettes ran out. He got up stiffly; Xander was still snoring in his recliner, and walked back to his quarters.
He sat at the foot of his bed and dug in his bag. He pulled out another pack of cigarettes and a fifth of scotch. He took them both back to the common room and sat down again.
Xander woke up around dinner time.
"Who ordered the smoked Xander?" He asked coughing. Methos took a long drag on his current cigarette and looked at Xander blankly. The half finished fifth was by his foot. Xander picked it up and took in how much was gone.
"Busy day huh? I've seen this movie, it sucks." He all but spat and left the room, leaving the bottle next to Methos on the couch.
Methos smiled slightly and took a drink.
Three weeks later Magnus found the right reality.
Buffy's people had been divided into teams, each team was responsible for getting each other through and to safety. William was staying behind. If he crossed back he'd be Spike again. Soul or no soul he didn't want that. He and Buffy had a tearful farewell and then she went through. The other teams followed, finally Kennedy, Willow, and Xander left.
"Success?" Will asked. Methos watched silently from a corner.
"It looks that way." Magnus said tiredly. Her gaze drifted from Will to Methos.
The immortal looked like shit. He hadn't slept right in weeks. He was thin, haggard, unshaven, huge black bags under his eyes. When he spoke it was to bark an order or utter an insult at best. He glared at Magnus as she met his gaze.
"Ben, we need to talk." She said softly.
"What can you possibly have to say to me?" He asked coldly.
"I asked you to do an incredibly difficult thing, and you did it cost you more than I could have imagined in the end. And I thank you."
"For what? Saving your daughter so you could watch her die? Sparing John so you could watch him die too?"
She hit him across the face as hard as she could, his cheek reddened and his nose bled briefly. He laughed at her.
"Is there anything you love that you haven't killed or destroyed?" He sneered.
"I never loved you." She said voice quavering with rage.
"And I'm still here." He snarled in return.