Highlander fanfiction

NOT SO SMART

Disclaimer: I don't own highlander or any of the characters

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Richie Ryan wandered the dimly lit streets, hands stuffed into his pockets, his mind a whirlwind of confusion and frustration. It had been a week since he'd witnessed the impossible on that bridge—two men fighting with swords, one beheading the other. And then, as if that wasn't insane enough, there had been lightning, energy crackling in the air, rushing into the so-called Sir Lancelot like some kind of freaky power-up.

And then, as if he wasn't already knee-deep in crazy, that same guy had told him he needed watching. What the hell did that even mean? Richie had been looking after himself since he was a kid—he didn't need some sword-swinging nutjob keeping tabs on him.

"Hey, Richie."

He blinked out of his thoughts to see Angie walking toward him, her face soft with concern.

"Hey, Angie. How's it going?"

"Good. You?"

Richie hesitated. "Okay, I guess."

Angie frowned. "Richie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing."

"Come on, don't give me that. What's going on?"

"I said it's nothing, Angie. Just let it go."

Her expression tightened before she sighed, giving up. "Fine. I gotta go."

"Yeah. Bye."

Richie watched her walk away, guilt gnawing at him. He hadn't meant to snap at her, but he'd been on edge ever since that night. Every time he thought he'd moved past it, that memory crept back in, gnawing at him like a bad dream he couldn't wake up from.

As he turned the corner, headlights cut through the darkness, and his stomach clenched. He recognized that car. The crazy guy's car. Panic shot through him, and without thinking, he bolted down an alley, vaulting over a chain-link fence and landing hard on the other side. He didn't stop running until he reached the old shed he called home. Panting, he peered out through a crack in the wooden boards. No car. No headlights. Maybe he'd lost him.

"What the hell, that guy is crazy," Richie muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"Now that's not very nice to say, Richie."

Richie spun around so fast he nearly tripped over his own feet. Standing inside the shed, arms crossed, was the guy from the antique store—the same one from the bridge.

Duncan MacLeod.

Richie's instincts screamed at him to run, but before he could make a move, Duncan was already blocking the doorway.

"Stay back, man!" Richie warned, fists clenching. "I don't know what you want, but I'm not looking for trouble."

Duncan sighed. "Richie, I just want to talk."

"Yeah, well, I don't." Without hesitation, Richie lunged for the exit, but Duncan was faster. He grabbed Richie's arm, holding him firmly but not painfully. Richie twisted, kicking and punching, trying to break free, but the guy was like a damn rock.

"Let me go!"

"Not until you calm down."

"I am calm, now let me go!"

Duncan exhaled, keeping his grip steady. "I don't think so."

Richie gritted his teeth. "I don't give a rat's ass who you are, but I'm not gonna let some guy manhandle me—"

Duncan's patience was wearing thin. With a swift movement, he hauled Richie over to his car, ignoring the younger man's protests. Richie landed in the passenger seat with an unceremonious thud.

Before Richie could scramble out, Duncan slammed the door and locked it.

"Real nice," Richie muttered, crossing his arms. "Kidnap much?"

Duncan walked around to the driver's side and got in. "I'm taking you somewhere safe."

"Yeah, I've heard that before."

Richie's mind raced, weighing his options. The second they stopped, he was out. No way was he letting this guy take him wherever he wanted.

The car slowed at a red light. Now was his chance. He popped the lock, threw the door open, and jumped.

Pain exploded through his body as he tumbled onto the pavement, rolling until he hit the sidewalk. The impact rattled him, sending a sharp jolt through his ribs and leg. He gasped, struggling to get up, but pain flared like fire in his side, and he collapsed back down with a groan.

A shadow fell over him.

"That was not so smart, was it, Richie?"

Richie gritted his teeth and looked up. Duncan was already there, arms crossed, looking unimpressed.

Still, Richie wasn't about to just lie there. He forced himself upright, ignoring the pain, and ran.

Or, at least, he tried to. His injured leg gave out almost immediately, and he stumbled. Before he could hit the ground, Duncan caught him, pinning Richie's arms to his sides.

"Richie, stop."

"No way, man!" Richie struggled weakly, but his body betrayed him, exhaustion and pain making it impossible to put up a real fight.

Duncan sighed, shifting his grip as Richie's energy drained. "Shh, that's it. Just relax."

Richie barely heard him before darkness swallowed him whole.