Max lay on the floor, his body wracked with pain, each pulse of agony forcing him to stifle his cries. The world around him blurred, and through his strained vision, he caught glimpses of Bumpa's figure, kneeling before a woman whose face remained obscured in the shadows.
"Who… are you?" Max managed to gasp, his voice strained and barely above a whisper.
Gabriella, alarmed by his distress, leaned closer, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Max, what do you see?" she urged, her voice steady despite the rising tension.
"It's a woman," he replied, his breath hitching. "I can't see her face… the room's dark."
Gabriella's heart raced as she exchanged a worried glance with Methos. "Someone's using sight-based magic. Get me some gloves!" she commanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Moments later, they moved Max to the living room, where there was more space. Gabriella placed her rubber-gloved hands on his temples, her eyes beginning to glow a vibrant yellow. She began to chant in a foreign language that sounded like Latin, her voice steady and rhythmic.
Lilith, watching from a distance, furrowed her brow in confusion. "Is she a witch?" she asked, her curiosity piqued.
"Something like that," Methos replied, his focus on Gabriella as she worked to calm Max.
As Gabriella's incantation took effect, the electrical surges around Max began to dissipate, his body slowly relaxing. But back in Faith's office, the atmosphere was far from calm. Faith began to twitch, her connection with Bumpa faltering, alarming Brick, who stood up from his chair.
"What's going on?" Brick demanded, his voice laced with concern.
"Someone's interfering," Faith gritted out, her hands shaking as Bumpa's nose began to bleed.
"Turn it off! You're hurting him!" Brick shouted, panic rising in his chest.
"I know what I'm doing! Just stay back!" Faith snapped, her focus unwavering despite the chaos.
Meanwhile, back at Methos' house, Gabriella's nose began to bleed as she gripped Max's head, her long green hair flowing upward as if caught in an unseen wind. "GET OUT!" she shouted, her voice deepening unnaturally.
Lilith instinctively backed away, keeping her distance as Methos moved closer, concern etched on his face. "Gabriella?" he called, his voice filled with urgency.
"I SAID GO!" she bellowed, and in an instant, a burst of yellow magic erupted from her, sending Methos flying out the window. He crashed back-first into the grass outside, the impact jarring.
At the same moment, Faith was hurled against the wall of her office, a nearby vase shattering as she hit the ground. The commotion drew the attention of Methos' next-door neighbor, Mr. Hannah, a middle-aged man returning home from work. He rushed toward Methos, concern etched on his face.
"Are you alright?" Hannah called out, his eyes wide with shock.
Lilith, peering down from the upstairs landing, spotted the broken window and the chaos below. She sighed in relief, grateful for Gabriella's intuition. "Whew! Thank you intuition," she muttered to herself.
Back in Faith's office, Brick scrambled to help Bumpa to his feet. "Bumpa!" he exclaimed, worry flooding his voice.
"I'm okay, I'm okay…" Bumpa replied, his voice woozy as he tried to regain his bearings.
Faith slowly rose, dazed from the mental battle, wiping the blood from a scratch on her head. "What the hell was all that!?" Brick demanded, his eyes darting between Faith and Bumpa.
"Someone was helping him, another magic user," Faith explained, her voice steadying as she regained her composure.
"Do you know where they are?" Brick pressed, urgency in his tone.
Bumpa nodded, his expression serious. "I do… I know EXACTLY where he is."
"Then you better hurry. It won't last too long," Faith urged, her eyes narrowing with determination.
"Lead the way, brother," Brick said, ready to spring into action.
Before they could leave, Faith called out to Brick, her voice firm. "Brick!"
He turned around, curiosity piqued. "What?"
"For bonus, bring me Macleod's head," she instructed, a fierce glint in her eyes.
Brick smirked, a sense of mischief returning. "I got ya'."
As the Boston brothers finally took their leave, Faith's cut began to heal, and she reached into her pocket, pulling out her phone to make a call.
"Hello?" a voice answered, crackling through the line.
"I found him," Faith replied, her voice steady but laced with urgency.
Meanwhile…
Outside Methos's house, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the lawn. Methos stood in the driveway, engaged in a heated conversation with his neighbor, Mr. Hannah. The older man's brow was furrowed with concern, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.
"Are you sure you don't want me to call 9-1-1?" Hannah pressed, his voice tinged with disbelief.
"It's alright, Matthew," Methos replied, a hint of irritation creeping into his tone. "My girl and I often have disagreements, but we still love each other."
"Love my ass," Hannah shot back, his voice rising. "That is straight-up ABUSE! My wife often throws a fit too, but not to this degree. And who's your girlfriend, son? She-Hulk?"
Methos chuckled, shaking his head. "More like the Scarlet Witch… but like I said, I can handle it. Thanks for your concern."
With that, he turned on his heel, heading toward his porch. The timing was perfect; the cuts on his face had begun to heal, the wounds closing as if they had never existed.
"Pardon my French," Hannah called after him, "but kick that bitch out as soon as possible! If I start hearing gunshots, I'll make the call."
"You do that… IF it so happens," Methos replied, stepping inside his house.
The interior was dimly lit, shadows dancing across the walls. He found Lilith crouched down, tending to the worn-out Gabriella, who lay on the couch, a water bottle in hand. The sight tugged at Methos's heart, a reminder of the chaos that had unfolded.
"You're buying me a new window," he said, his voice laced with mock seriousness.
"To be fair," Lilith replied, standing up, "she did say 'Get out.'"
Gabriella, propped up on her elbows, interjected, "I was actually saying it to the one messing with Max's head. We need to move him out of here. The spell they were using allows them to track someone down like a GPS."
Methos sighed, the weight of the situation settling heavily on his shoulders. "Just when I was beginning to like this place."
"All right," he conceded, "we can take him to the nearest holy ground. It's right around the corner."
"Or better yet," Lilith suggested, her eyes gleaming with defiance, "we can just let them come, and then you and me can fight them."
"You and I can fight them…" Methos corrected, shaking his head. "But no, that's out of the question."
"Why?" Lilith challenged, her frustration bubbling to the surface.
"Because, one, we don't know exactly how many there are; two, they have magic users among them; and three, I don't want any further damage done to my house before I move out."
Gabriella nodded in agreement. "Not to mention it's gonna cause one hell of a ruckus. We don't want the locals swarming in on this."
Lilith crossed her arms, her mind racing for alternatives. "All right then, let's go to where they are. You Watchers know everything about us, so that should include location too, right?"
Methos raised an eyebrow, his patience wearing thin. "Allow me to loop back to numbers one and two. We don't know their numbers, and we're unprepared for a magic user."
"Oh my god—" Lilith began, her voice rising in exasperation. "You know these centuries have made you such a little PUNK! So what, you just want to go hide out in the church and hope they give up?"
"NO… listen," Methos replied, his voice firm. "If we go to holy ground, it will not only keep Max safe, but give us a chance to talk with them—"
"He KILLED their FUCKING BROTHER!" Lilith interrupted, her anger boiling over. "Talking will be the last thing they'll want to do when they see us."
Methos sighed, rubbing his temples. "Speaking of centuries, they seem to have made you more narrow-minded than you already are. Because I'm trying to—"
"FUCK you, Methos!" Lilith shot back, her voice sharp and filled with frustration.
"That's enough!" Gabriella interjected, her tone commanding as she tried to restore some semblance of order. The tension in the room was thick, each word a spark threatening to ignite another argument.
Suddenly, the heated exchange was interrupted by a loud voice from the floor. "HEY!" Max shouted, now fully awake and sitting up on the carpet, his disheveled hair falling into his eyes. "In case you guys forgot, the window's broken, and the last thing we need right now is a noise complaint from the neighbors."
Methos shrugged, nodding in agreement.
Max stood up, determination etched across his face. "Lilith's got the right idea, though. We gotta take the fight to them." He shot a glance at Methos, a challenge in his eyes.
Lilith smirked, her confidence bolstered by Max's support.
"But even so," Methos countered, his voice steady but tinged with concern, "what part of 'magic user' did you not understand?"
"And so do we," Max replied, his resolve unwavering.
Gabriella, still feeling the effects of the earlier confrontation, shook her head. "Sorry, Max, I'm gonna be out of action a little bit. I say we hurry up and get you to holy ground."
Max noticed the weariness in Gabriella's eyes, the toll the recent events had taken on her. He paused, contemplating their next move. "Let's swing by my place. I've got something that can help."
Max looked back Methos. "Methos, are you in or what?"
"Yes," Methos replied, "but if it's all the same to you, I'll be keeping my distance."
Lilith scoffed, rolling her eyes in disappointment and annoyance. "That's the idea," Max chimed in, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.
Methos looked confused. "Come again?"
Elsewhere…
In a rugged jeep, the Boston brothers were navigating through the chaotic streets, narrowly escaping the clutches of rush hour traffic. Bumpa, gripping the steering wheel, felt a sense of urgency as he concentrated on the spell that allowed him to sense Max's location.
"He's still on the move!" Bumpa exclaimed, glancing at Brick, who sat in the passenger seat, his brow furrowed with concern.
Brick leaned forward, his voice low. "He might be trying to give us the slip. If that sensing spell wears off, do you think you'll be able to remember the first location you saw him at?"
Bumpa hesitated, uncertainty creeping into his voice. "I don't know."
"Damn," Brick muttered, frustration evident.
Bumpa took a deep breath, trying to shake off the tension. "Brick, I've been meaning to ask, but when we saw Faith, I felt something."
Brick chuckled, a teasing grin spreading across his face. "I don't blame you; she was drop-dead gorgeous."
Bumpa shook his head, trying to maintain his seriousness. "NO, I mean, I felt like a tingle—"
"I bet!" Brick interrupted, laughter bubbling up.
"Shut up! I'm being serious, man!" Bumpa shot back, a smile breaking through his annoyance.
As the brothers shared a laugh, Brick's demeanor shifted, the gravity of their situation settling in. "Andy was supposed to talk to you about this, but now it lies on me… We'll talk after we finish this. You need to be mentally prepared before I explain it to you, okay?"
Bumpa nodded, his expression turning serious as he continued driving, taking the exit off the freeway.
Meanwhile…
Back at Max's apartment, he stepped into his closet, a treasure trove of clothes, shoes, and relics from the 18th and early 19th centuries. He rummaged through the clutter, his heart racing with anticipation. Finally, he opened a metal briefcase, revealing an outfit that looked tailor-made for combat.
Meanwhile, Lilith, having been dropped off by Methos, approached her silver 2010 Volkswagen Beetle parked in the lot. She slid into the driver's seat, her mind focused. Opening the armrest, she pulled out a small jar of blue paint and glanced into the mirror visor. With steady hands, she began to apply Celtic war paint to her face, each stroke a reminder of the battle ahead.
Back in his closet, Max was now fully suited up, wearing a black and blue shirt with padding, camo pants, and steel-toe boots. He felt the weight of the gear settle comfortably on him, a second skin ready for the fight. After finishing her war paint, Lilith equipped herself with two silver gauntlets, her eyes gleaming with determination.
Max, feeling the adrenaline surge, put away his katana and instead chose a Chinese broadsword, sliding it from its sheath. He stepped out of the closet, twirling the sword for good measure before striking a pose, a grin on his face.
"Neat," Gabriella said while clapping, her voice deadpan as she lay comfortably in his bed, her hair tousled and her expression relaxed.
Max jumped, startled by her presence. "Why aren't you on the couch?"
Gabriella shrugged, a playful smile on her lips. "It's not as comfy as Methos's, sorry. Also, these are some really good pillows. Where'd you get these?"
"SEARS…" Max replied, his tone flat.
Gabriella raised an eyebrow, feigning surprise. "That's still a thing? Or do you mean Sears from back in the day?"
Max scoffed, a wry smile creeping onto his face as he sheathed his sword. "Bye, Gabby."
As he prepared to leave, Gabriella's tone shifted, becoming more serious. "MAX."
He paused, turning back to face her.
"I'm still out of it, but it's not like my legs are broken," she said, her eyes searching his. "Do you need me to come just in case?"
Max shook his head, his expression firm. "Nah, it's for the best. Besides, I already got a backup plan."
Gabriella frowned, her concern evident. "YEAH, but… it's not a very good one."
Max chuckled softly, trying to lighten the mood. "Hey, who's the oldest and has fought in three different wars, plus multiple riots, and killed over hundreds of immortals?"
"Seventy-five," Gabriella replied, her voice steady.
"Huh?" Max looked confused, his brow furrowing.
"You currently have seventy-five immortal kills under your belt," she clarified, a hint of pride in her tone.
Max's expression shifted to one of disappointment, despite never really keeping track of how many immortals he had faced. "Wow...felt like I had more than that"
Gabriella offered a reassuring smile. "But hey, you proved your point. You're a seasoned warrior."
"Thanks, I guess…" Max replied, his voice trailing off.
"Just call me if you need me," Gabriella said, her sincerity shining through. "Like I said, I've got your back."
Max gave her a soft smile, appreciating the warmth in her eyes. He nodded, feeling a surge of gratitude for her unwavering support. "Get some rest."
As he turned to leave, Gabriella opened her mouth as if to say something more, but she stopped herself, the words unspoken hanging in the air.
Moments later, night had fallen, casting a blanket of darkness over the city as Max stepped into Methos's black Toyota Highlander.
Methos glanced over at Max, taking in his new combat-ready attire. "Handsome gear," he remarked, a hint of approval in his voice. "Do you have it?"
Max nodded, revealing the weapon he had chosen, but only Methos can see it at the moment. Methos's expression shifted to one of satisfaction. "Nice… the odds of us—well, the odds of YOU and Lilith making it have now increased to forty-five percent."
"Wow, not even a fifty-fifty?" Max replied, a mix of disbelief and humor in his tone.
" Nope," Methos said, his voice steady as he pulled away from the curb. He reached for the radio, turning it off just as the opening notes of "Carry On Wayward Son" by Kansas filled the car.
To Be Continued...