FIC: Into Darkness Peering, Chapter 2
First, a thanks to all who commented when I posted the first part. I'm lousy at replying to individual emails. I know that ticks some people off and they never comment again, but I've tried to change and it's just not working. It leaves me feeling guilty and then I can't write. So I'd like to make a bargain with you--you keep commenting and I'll keep writing fics in appreciation. Deal? Good, because the guilt was really getting to me.
Okay, before we get to Chapter 2, I'd like to admit I've never been overly fond of Richie, but I think I like the one that shows up in this chapter. Go fig.
Oh, and as I'm posting this, "Dust In The Wind" is playing. I think that's a sign. :-)
Chapter Two
"This is highly unusual," Simon St. James said as Duncan barreled into the meeting.
"But I guess sending one of your colleagues to his death is not," Duncan countered angrily.
"Dawson, you want to explain yourself?" St. James demanded.
"He and Pierson were friends. I thought he should know," Joe said, unrepentant.
St. James sighed. "We're sorry for your loss, Mr. MacLeod. But--"
"Adam Pierson is an Immortal."
Jaws dropped around the table.
"What--what are you saying, Mr. MacLeod? That Pierson was a spy--"
"God! What is with you people! No, he wasn't a spy into your little organization of peepers. Pierson was a pre-Immortal."
"So that was your interest in him," one of the members around the table speculated softly.
"No, that was not my interest in him," Duncan said, wondering why he'd pushed Joe into rejoining this group of vipers. "Adam was--is--my friend. And, God help you, you're going to help me bring him home."
"Mr. MacLeod, we understand that you're upset, but if what you're saying is true, Pierson is no longer our concern," St James pointed out.
"I'd say he's more of your concern now than ever. A Watcher--and an Immortal. You sent him to his death because you didn't trust him--"
"He agreed to the mission."
"Because you gave him no choice! You set him up to be killed. Now, I don't know about him, but that would surely make me pissed. And considering he's one of the creators of the Watcher CD, I think all of you should be investing in lip balm because you're going to spend a lot of time kissing his ass."
"Immortals can die," someone muttered.
Duncan's hand slapped the table, causing them all to jump. "Kill Adam Pierson and you will start a war that I guarantee you will not win."
"We've heard that threat from you before, MacLeod."
In the blink of an eye, Duncan had the speaker sprawled on the floor, his sword at his throat. "You took Darius from me, and Irina and Jakob. No more. Do you understand me? Adam will be the last straw. You--people--know me. You know how many Immortals I'm in contact with. And you know how many of them will be outraged to find out they've been studied like bugs throughout history."
"You're talking about a bloodbath," St. James said, unable to conceal the horror in his voice.
Duncan shrugged, his sword not moving an inch. "You take what's mine, and I'll make sure to take what's yours."
"And what if we decide to take you?" the man on the floor wheezed.
The sound of a gun being cocked reverberated through the room. Everyone turned toward the sound, and stared at the pistol in Joe's hand.
"Then you'll have me to deal with," Joe drawled. "And after me, there will be Richie Ryan, Connor MacLeod, Amanda--shall I go on?"
St. James sighed. "What is it you want from us, MacLeod?"
"Exactly what I asked for." In one smooth move, Duncan's sword disappeared. "Your help."
*****
"You don't have to do this, Rich."
Richie grinned and continued stuffing his duffel. "Adam might be a pain in the ass, Mac, but I owe him one."
Duncan nodded. Adam had saved them both from making horrible mistakes with Kristin. "If you're coming with me, then there's something you need to know."
"Joe explained how the Watchers think Adam's a new Immortal. It's cool, Mac."
"It's more than that." Duncan moved to the sofa and motioned for Richie to join him. "Adam's old, Rich."
"Like Amanda, right? I've noticed that the real old ones don't see right and wrong the same way we do, you know? It's like neither one of us could have killed Kristin, but Adam didn't have a problem. That's when I figured out he must be around the thousand year mark."
"He's much older than that."
Richie's eyes locked with Duncan's. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Duncan nodded. "Nah, man. You're joking, right? You let me go on and on about Methos and you knew all along that--"
"Would you have believed me if I'd told you Adam was the real Methos? Be honest, Rich."
"I--" Richie slumped back against the sofa. "No wonder the bastard's always walking around with that smug look on his face. More than once I wanted to wipe that look off his face. Guess it's a good thing I didn't try, huh?"
"He's survived five thousand years, so yeah, maybe it's a good thing," Duncan agreed, smiling so Richie would understand that he wasn't criticizing him or belittling his skill as a warrior.
"So what about it, Mac? I've seen you and Adam sparring. You could take him, right?"
"I have no idea, and quite frankly, I don't want to know."
"But what if--"
"Go on."
"You and Joe both think that he might have been tortured all this time. What if Adam--Methos--isn't sane when we find him?"
"You're thinking about Michael, aren't you?" Michael Moore, Duncan's friend, had developed an alternate personality--Quentin Barnes-- and kidnapped a still mortal Richie and Tessa.
"Mac, don't take this the wrong way, but Michael wasn't the only one of your friends to go nuts. Your friend Brian Cullen was strung out on drugs. And that Gregor guy didn't give a damn about living. There was that Garrick guy who messed in your head. And didn't somebody get all obsessive over some woman and nearly kill her because she wouldn't marry him?"
Duncan froze. Damn. Richie was right; there was a long list of his friends who had sunk into insanity. And he hadn't even mentioned Warren Cochrane. "I guess--I guess a lot of us can't handle the weight of the years."
"And we're talking about someone who's carrying more of that weight than anyone else. What happens, Mac, if Methos has cracked?"
"He hasn't. If five thousand years hasn't sent him over the edge, one year surely won't."
"Not even if he was tortured the whole time?'
Duncan closed his eyes and pictured Methos in his head. He saw him listening to a rock band on a portable CD player, wearing an oversized sweater and barely decent jeans. He saw him dripping in the tunnel near the barge, sword at his throat. He heard Methos berating him about clinging to old ideals. He remembered him after the fiasco with the Methuselah Stone, and standing next to Alexa's grave. He shook his head. Methos wasn't like the ones who had broken. He saw the world without veils. He adapted to his surroundings. He bent with the wind and then popped back upright when the wind died down. Resilient down to the core. "Not even, Richie."
Richie nodded. "He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"
"More than I realized," Duncan murmured.
"Then we'll go rescue him, and he'll be okay. 'Kay, Mac?"
The barge rocked softly and Joe let himself in. "You guys ready?"
"We're ready, Joe. And Richie knows."
"Any problems?" Joe stared at Richie.
"No, man. Although I figure it must've been a shock to you. You've known Adam for a while."
"Yeah, I was angry when Mac told me, but me and Adam worked it out. His experience has come in handy on occasion. Mac tell you he save my life when I was shot during the Galati incident? 'Course I never told him how much I appreciated the care." Joe frowned.
"Don't, Joe. We'll get the chance to make everything right with him," Duncan said, clasping Joe's shoulder. "You have news?"
"Yeah. The Watchers are going to chopper you close to the border. You go in. You get him out. And they'll take over from there."
"Like hell."
Joe grinned. "I knew you were gonna say that. But we'll fight that fight after we get the old man back." The grin faded. "He's liable to be in pretty bad shape."
"As long as his head's attached, Joe. Anything else, I can handle," Duncan said determinedly. "In any case, I'm going to bring him home. He belongs here with us."
"With the people he loves," Joe agreed.
"And the people who love him." Duncan grabbed his bag and hurried out onto the deck.
Joe looked up sharply, hearing something surprising in Duncan's voice. Not shocking--just surprising. He glanced at Richie and saw that he too had heard. "This okay with you?"
Richie shrugged. "Mac doesn't need my approval."
"But he'd want it."
"I don't know Adam--Methos--all that well. All I know is that he has a smart mouth and can be as irritating as hell."
Joe smiled. "Then I'd have to say you know him pretty well."
Richie shook his head. "No, I don't. Because there's something about him that makes both you and Mac smile when you think about him. Something that brings out the warrior in both of you. Hell, Joe. If you didn't think you'd be in the way, you'd be leading the rescue charge right up there with Mac. Maybe I should be the one asking if this is okay with you."
"Yeah, it's okay," Joe said, slowly nodding. "Maybe if I were younger.... I've watched Methos deal with a dying lover, burying her, mourning her. Once a century is more than enough for that kind of thing."
"Being with Mac isn't a guarantee against that," Richie pointed out.
"No, but the odds are better. And Mac and Methos--they have a chance at something special, Rich. I know you weren't overly fond of Adam, but couldn't you feel it when the two of them were in a room together?"
"Aside from the double buzz?" Richie teased. "No, I know what you mean, Joe. I just didn't know what it was. I mean, Mac seems about as het as they come. Have you seen the babes that've paraded through his bedroom? But maybe that should have clued me in on the fact that he wasn't happy, maybe hasn't been since Tessa. If Adam makes him happy, hell, I'll throw them a wedding myself. But--"
"Yeah?"
"I'm worried that Adam's not gonna be okay. I don't--I don't know if Mac can handle that. I saw what Darius and Tessa's deaths did to him. He may lose it if Adam's dead or worse, if Adam's lost it, and Mac has to kill him."
"I know the thought of facing an out-of-control Mac must scare the shit out of--"
"What is it with you and Mac?" Richie interrupted. "Not everything goes back to the dark quickening! I'm not worried about my head, but Mac's. He doesn't even know if he can take Adam."
Joe looked at him shrewdly. "Is that why you're volunteering for this?"
"I don't want a five-thousand-year-old quickening. In fact, I could do without another quickening for the rest of my life, Joe. I like the idea of not dying, but this constant killing sucks. I'm volunteering because Mac needs me. And I'm volunteering because I know if the situation was reversed, Adam would do the same for me. He'd bitch something furious, but he'd be right there beside Mac, saving my ass like he did with Kristin. You think I don't know who kept prodding Mac to keep prodding me?"
"To be honest, Rich, it wasn't for you."
"I know. It was for the same reason he left his dying girlfriend to track down Mr. Wicked Blade. He loves Mac. And Mac loves him. That's why Adam could get up in his face when he was evil--and all Mr. Wicked Blade wanted to do was chop off my head."
"Mac loves you too, Rich."
"Yeah, but Mr. Wicked Blade didn't. I think they both have the jones for Adam."
Joe started toward the door. "Why do you act so stupid when it's obvious you're quite smart?"
"It's a cover." Richie winked, then laughed. "Let's go before Mac leaves without us. You know how he is when he's riding to the rescue of a fair maiden."
Joe snorted. "A fair maiden with a nose the size of Rhode Island."
Richie threw his arm around Joe. "That's what I like about you, man. Someone who understands American references. Even when I find someone over here who speaks English, they never get my jokes."
"Uh, that has nothing to do with not knowing American potpourri. Your jokes aren't funny, Rich."
"No, no. You can't tell me--"
"Yeah, I can."
"But listen to this one. There was this guy, you see, and--"
Joe was still not laughing as they reached the car.
Okay, before we get to Chapter 2, I'd like to admit I've never been overly fond of Richie, but I think I like the one that shows up in this chapter. Go fig.
Oh, and as I'm posting this, "Dust In The Wind" is playing. I think that's a sign. :-)
Chapter Two
"This is highly unusual," Simon St. James said as Duncan barreled into the meeting.
"But I guess sending one of your colleagues to his death is not," Duncan countered angrily.
"Dawson, you want to explain yourself?" St. James demanded.
"He and Pierson were friends. I thought he should know," Joe said, unrepentant.
St. James sighed. "We're sorry for your loss, Mr. MacLeod. But--"
"Adam Pierson is an Immortal."
Jaws dropped around the table.
"What--what are you saying, Mr. MacLeod? That Pierson was a spy--"
"God! What is with you people! No, he wasn't a spy into your little organization of peepers. Pierson was a pre-Immortal."
"So that was your interest in him," one of the members around the table speculated softly.
"No, that was not my interest in him," Duncan said, wondering why he'd pushed Joe into rejoining this group of vipers. "Adam was--is--my friend. And, God help you, you're going to help me bring him home."
"Mr. MacLeod, we understand that you're upset, but if what you're saying is true, Pierson is no longer our concern," St James pointed out.
"I'd say he's more of your concern now than ever. A Watcher--and an Immortal. You sent him to his death because you didn't trust him--"
"He agreed to the mission."
"Because you gave him no choice! You set him up to be killed. Now, I don't know about him, but that would surely make me pissed. And considering he's one of the creators of the Watcher CD, I think all of you should be investing in lip balm because you're going to spend a lot of time kissing his ass."
"Immortals can die," someone muttered.
Duncan's hand slapped the table, causing them all to jump. "Kill Adam Pierson and you will start a war that I guarantee you will not win."
"We've heard that threat from you before, MacLeod."
In the blink of an eye, Duncan had the speaker sprawled on the floor, his sword at his throat. "You took Darius from me, and Irina and Jakob. No more. Do you understand me? Adam will be the last straw. You--people--know me. You know how many Immortals I'm in contact with. And you know how many of them will be outraged to find out they've been studied like bugs throughout history."
"You're talking about a bloodbath," St. James said, unable to conceal the horror in his voice.
Duncan shrugged, his sword not moving an inch. "You take what's mine, and I'll make sure to take what's yours."
"And what if we decide to take you?" the man on the floor wheezed.
The sound of a gun being cocked reverberated through the room. Everyone turned toward the sound, and stared at the pistol in Joe's hand.
"Then you'll have me to deal with," Joe drawled. "And after me, there will be Richie Ryan, Connor MacLeod, Amanda--shall I go on?"
St. James sighed. "What is it you want from us, MacLeod?"
"Exactly what I asked for." In one smooth move, Duncan's sword disappeared. "Your help."
*****
"You don't have to do this, Rich."
Richie grinned and continued stuffing his duffel. "Adam might be a pain in the ass, Mac, but I owe him one."
Duncan nodded. Adam had saved them both from making horrible mistakes with Kristin. "If you're coming with me, then there's something you need to know."
"Joe explained how the Watchers think Adam's a new Immortal. It's cool, Mac."
"It's more than that." Duncan moved to the sofa and motioned for Richie to join him. "Adam's old, Rich."
"Like Amanda, right? I've noticed that the real old ones don't see right and wrong the same way we do, you know? It's like neither one of us could have killed Kristin, but Adam didn't have a problem. That's when I figured out he must be around the thousand year mark."
"He's much older than that."
Richie's eyes locked with Duncan's. "Are you saying what I think you're saying?" Duncan nodded. "Nah, man. You're joking, right? You let me go on and on about Methos and you knew all along that--"
"Would you have believed me if I'd told you Adam was the real Methos? Be honest, Rich."
"I--" Richie slumped back against the sofa. "No wonder the bastard's always walking around with that smug look on his face. More than once I wanted to wipe that look off his face. Guess it's a good thing I didn't try, huh?"
"He's survived five thousand years, so yeah, maybe it's a good thing," Duncan agreed, smiling so Richie would understand that he wasn't criticizing him or belittling his skill as a warrior.
"So what about it, Mac? I've seen you and Adam sparring. You could take him, right?"
"I have no idea, and quite frankly, I don't want to know."
"But what if--"
"Go on."
"You and Joe both think that he might have been tortured all this time. What if Adam--Methos--isn't sane when we find him?"
"You're thinking about Michael, aren't you?" Michael Moore, Duncan's friend, had developed an alternate personality--Quentin Barnes-- and kidnapped a still mortal Richie and Tessa.
"Mac, don't take this the wrong way, but Michael wasn't the only one of your friends to go nuts. Your friend Brian Cullen was strung out on drugs. And that Gregor guy didn't give a damn about living. There was that Garrick guy who messed in your head. And didn't somebody get all obsessive over some woman and nearly kill her because she wouldn't marry him?"
Duncan froze. Damn. Richie was right; there was a long list of his friends who had sunk into insanity. And he hadn't even mentioned Warren Cochrane. "I guess--I guess a lot of us can't handle the weight of the years."
"And we're talking about someone who's carrying more of that weight than anyone else. What happens, Mac, if Methos has cracked?"
"He hasn't. If five thousand years hasn't sent him over the edge, one year surely won't."
"Not even if he was tortured the whole time?'
Duncan closed his eyes and pictured Methos in his head. He saw him listening to a rock band on a portable CD player, wearing an oversized sweater and barely decent jeans. He saw him dripping in the tunnel near the barge, sword at his throat. He heard Methos berating him about clinging to old ideals. He remembered him after the fiasco with the Methuselah Stone, and standing next to Alexa's grave. He shook his head. Methos wasn't like the ones who had broken. He saw the world without veils. He adapted to his surroundings. He bent with the wind and then popped back upright when the wind died down. Resilient down to the core. "Not even, Richie."
Richie nodded. "He means a lot to you, doesn't he?"
"More than I realized," Duncan murmured.
"Then we'll go rescue him, and he'll be okay. 'Kay, Mac?"
The barge rocked softly and Joe let himself in. "You guys ready?"
"We're ready, Joe. And Richie knows."
"Any problems?" Joe stared at Richie.
"No, man. Although I figure it must've been a shock to you. You've known Adam for a while."
"Yeah, I was angry when Mac told me, but me and Adam worked it out. His experience has come in handy on occasion. Mac tell you he save my life when I was shot during the Galati incident? 'Course I never told him how much I appreciated the care." Joe frowned.
"Don't, Joe. We'll get the chance to make everything right with him," Duncan said, clasping Joe's shoulder. "You have news?"
"Yeah. The Watchers are going to chopper you close to the border. You go in. You get him out. And they'll take over from there."
"Like hell."
Joe grinned. "I knew you were gonna say that. But we'll fight that fight after we get the old man back." The grin faded. "He's liable to be in pretty bad shape."
"As long as his head's attached, Joe. Anything else, I can handle," Duncan said determinedly. "In any case, I'm going to bring him home. He belongs here with us."
"With the people he loves," Joe agreed.
"And the people who love him." Duncan grabbed his bag and hurried out onto the deck.
Joe looked up sharply, hearing something surprising in Duncan's voice. Not shocking--just surprising. He glanced at Richie and saw that he too had heard. "This okay with you?"
Richie shrugged. "Mac doesn't need my approval."
"But he'd want it."
"I don't know Adam--Methos--all that well. All I know is that he has a smart mouth and can be as irritating as hell."
Joe smiled. "Then I'd have to say you know him pretty well."
Richie shook his head. "No, I don't. Because there's something about him that makes both you and Mac smile when you think about him. Something that brings out the warrior in both of you. Hell, Joe. If you didn't think you'd be in the way, you'd be leading the rescue charge right up there with Mac. Maybe I should be the one asking if this is okay with you."
"Yeah, it's okay," Joe said, slowly nodding. "Maybe if I were younger.... I've watched Methos deal with a dying lover, burying her, mourning her. Once a century is more than enough for that kind of thing."
"Being with Mac isn't a guarantee against that," Richie pointed out.
"No, but the odds are better. And Mac and Methos--they have a chance at something special, Rich. I know you weren't overly fond of Adam, but couldn't you feel it when the two of them were in a room together?"
"Aside from the double buzz?" Richie teased. "No, I know what you mean, Joe. I just didn't know what it was. I mean, Mac seems about as het as they come. Have you seen the babes that've paraded through his bedroom? But maybe that should have clued me in on the fact that he wasn't happy, maybe hasn't been since Tessa. If Adam makes him happy, hell, I'll throw them a wedding myself. But--"
"Yeah?"
"I'm worried that Adam's not gonna be okay. I don't--I don't know if Mac can handle that. I saw what Darius and Tessa's deaths did to him. He may lose it if Adam's dead or worse, if Adam's lost it, and Mac has to kill him."
"I know the thought of facing an out-of-control Mac must scare the shit out of--"
"What is it with you and Mac?" Richie interrupted. "Not everything goes back to the dark quickening! I'm not worried about my head, but Mac's. He doesn't even know if he can take Adam."
Joe looked at him shrewdly. "Is that why you're volunteering for this?"
"I don't want a five-thousand-year-old quickening. In fact, I could do without another quickening for the rest of my life, Joe. I like the idea of not dying, but this constant killing sucks. I'm volunteering because Mac needs me. And I'm volunteering because I know if the situation was reversed, Adam would do the same for me. He'd bitch something furious, but he'd be right there beside Mac, saving my ass like he did with Kristin. You think I don't know who kept prodding Mac to keep prodding me?"
"To be honest, Rich, it wasn't for you."
"I know. It was for the same reason he left his dying girlfriend to track down Mr. Wicked Blade. He loves Mac. And Mac loves him. That's why Adam could get up in his face when he was evil--and all Mr. Wicked Blade wanted to do was chop off my head."
"Mac loves you too, Rich."
"Yeah, but Mr. Wicked Blade didn't. I think they both have the jones for Adam."
Joe started toward the door. "Why do you act so stupid when it's obvious you're quite smart?"
"It's a cover." Richie winked, then laughed. "Let's go before Mac leaves without us. You know how he is when he's riding to the rescue of a fair maiden."
Joe snorted. "A fair maiden with a nose the size of Rhode Island."
Richie threw his arm around Joe. "That's what I like about you, man. Someone who understands American references. Even when I find someone over here who speaks English, they never get my jokes."
"Uh, that has nothing to do with not knowing American potpourri. Your jokes aren't funny, Rich."
"No, no. You can't tell me--"
"Yeah, I can."
"But listen to this one. There was this guy, you see, and--"
Joe was still not laughing as they reached the car.