Fic: Die Another Day 4/? PG:13 SPN/HL/Deadwood
Title: Die Another Day
Rating: PG:13
Spoilers: 7.10 Death's Door
Crossover, AU
Summary: When Bobby mysteriously disappears from the hospital after an encounter with the Leviathan Sam and Dean think they know what’s behind it. But the truth is beyond any of their wildest dreams and will change the way they see the older hunter forever. Spoilers all episodes up to 7.10 "Death's Door" Supernatural/Highlander/Deadwood crossover
Long A/N: After I saw "The Girl With the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo" I got excited, thinking my fic was going to be Kripked. But it turns out that, no, my idea for dealing with the Leviathan is different (well, duh! There are no Immortals in canon.) Anyway, if there were ever any doubt that this was going in a totally AU direction let me state it for the record: From "Death's Door" onward this fic will bear little, if any, resemblance to canon. So the way the season ended? Forget it. I might incorporate a few things I liked here and there, but for the most part the story will be going in its own direction.
*ahem* Right. So, back on track. Sorry about the long delay between chapters. I had *planned* to wait until I was done with the Ahriman story before posting this, but (story of my life) it got away from me and is growing by the *minute* practically. So I'll be switching between the two stories from here on out. Plus the odd one shot here and there.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing associated with Supernatural, Highlander or Deadwood. If I did Ellsworth would have lived, Bobby would have lived, Richie would have lived, and the train wreck that was "Highlander: The Source" would never have seen the light of day! I'm just a fan trying my best to add to the worlds that they began.
Many thanks to dnachemlia for the beta.
oooOOOoooThey'd been on the road for more than a day now. The overcast sky occasionally released a light rain that would slicken the roads and force them to slow down, but eager to arrive at their destination they'd stopped just twice for gas, coffee and to switch drivers before rushing off again. Once the initial briefing on the hunt was over an exhausted Bobby retired to the makeshift bed in the back of the van, stretched out, and finally drifted off to sleep.
As the sky lightened with the coming dawn Sam sat silently behind the wheel and watched the road, not even acknowledging his brother's presence beside him. Normally the silence wouldn't have bothered Dean- Sam was often quiet while driving- but this time he seemed different. Distracted. Worried.
"Hey, Sammy? You ok?" Dean asked softly so as not to wake Bobby.
Sam made no response at first, as though he hadn't heard, then quickly blinked and looked over. "Hmm? Oh. Yeah. I'm fine."
"You want me to take over for a while?"
"No, I'm good."
Dean wasn't buying it though. "Really? 'Cause you don't seem 'fine' or 'good' to me." He leaned over and keeping his voice low continued. "Come on man, talk to me. What's wrong?"
Sam smirked at his older brother. "Isn't that usually my line?"
"Ha-ha-ha, very funny. I'm serious here; you've been acting weird ever since you came out of the library yesterday. Now, something's going on with you... so spill."
Sam sighed and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. Maybe he was worried over nothing. Maybe it was all just a coincidence. Maybe... "I think... I think there's something Bobby's not telling us."
"Well, yeah, he did say there was more, remember? And I'm sure he's got... like a century's worth of crap to tell us about. Just give him time. I mean, now that we're in on the 'Big Secret' I'm sure he'll fill us in on the rest."
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so," Sam began. "It's just that I found... you know what? Never mind, I'm sure it's nothing."
"It's just that you found what? What's nothing?" He was more worried now. If it had just been Sam's missing wall that would've been bad enough. But Dean was still having trouble with the whole 'I'm almost two centuries old and can't be killed unless you chop off my head' thing. So Sam being concerned about anything having to do with Bobby's Immortality immediately bumped Dean's worry level up to DEFCON three. "Sam? Did he say something to you while I was in the can or somethin'?"
Sam's response was cut off by a loud yawn coming from the back. "What time is it?" Bobby asked sleepily as he sat up and stretched, working the kinks out of his back.
Dean sighed and sat back. He knew that whatever Sam had been about to say he wasn't going to say it now. "It's a little before seven AM," he replied.
Bobby nodded and addressed Sam as he made his way forward. "Give me a chance to get some caffeine in my system and I'll take over the wheel."
"That's ok, I'm fine," Sam said in an even tone, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.
Bobby eyed him skeptically. "Nah, you look half dead. You try and get some rest and let me drive the last leg."
Sam glanced at the folded map next to him. They were keeping to the back roads; the highways, while faster were more likely to have traffic cams and other surveillance methods in place. They couldn't take the chance of the Leviathan tracking them. "According to the map there's a small town coming up. We can gas up and switch drivers there."
"Fine by me." Bobby watched the younger Winchester closely. Sam had fallen silent again, but every once in a while a strange expression would cross his face. As if he was having a conversation they couldn't hear. "You ok?" he asked, echoing Dean's earlier question.
"Look," Sam huffed. "I'm fine. I've just got a lot on my mind right now. So don't worry." He shot a quick glance at his brother and added. "Either of you."
But Dean still wasn't convinced. "You sure about that?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. You know, actually," he said, a ghost of a smile passing over his face. "I haven't seen or heard anything, you know, Hell related, since Bobby's big revelation. I think... I don't know, maybe my brain can only handle one crazy at a time, so right now it's focusing on... this." He gestured in Bobby's direction.
"So my comin' outta the Immortal closet is keeping the devil at bay?" Bobby nodded, grinning slightly. "Good to know." Then he cocked his head to one side, deep in thought for a moment before continuing. "Let me know if Lucifer starts in on you again. I'll tell you about the time Rufus and I ended up running buck naked through a Louisiana swamp with a Letiche hot on our tails. That story's crazy enough to hold you for a month at least."
Sam and Dean both grimaced as unwanted images flashed through their minds. "Uh... Bobby? Promise me something?" Sam said slowly.
"What?"
Sam shuddered before answering. "Promise me you'll never tell me that story!"
Dean merely shook his head with revulsion. There were some things about his old friend he just didn't want to think about.
oooOOOoooThe town turned out to be little more than an overgrown rest stop: a gas station, diner and cheap motel were the main features, with a few scattered houses and shops rounding out the town's borders. While Bobby and Dean went into the grocers across the street, Sam topped off the gas tank and pondered recent events some more. The revelation that there was a race of Immortal humans, and that Bobby was one of them, had initially shocked him but over the last few years he'd learned to quickly adjust. Angels, vessels, alphas, Leviathan-Immortals were just one more new creature.
No, he chastised himself. Not creatures, beings. Beings who were just... different, like Cas. Or like Pamela or Missouri- humans who had something extra that set them apart. But the beheadings-
"You just about done there, Sam?"
Sam had been so deep in thought he hadn't even noticed Bobby's approach. If Dad knew I let someone sneak up on me like that I'd be running laps until I dropped. "Yeah. Yeah, we're all set."
Dean appeared a moment later. "Dude, we totally gotta remember this place!" He was licking his lips and holding something wrapped in waxed paper. "Handmade pocket pies! Fruit pies, pizza pies, breakfast specials- I got you an egg white omelet one, since I know you're watching your girlish figure."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Funny."
"Hey, what am I, Casper the friendly ghost here that I don't need food?" Bobby demanded in mock indignation.
"Well, you did die. Got the death certificate to prove it and everything," Dean teased, then at Bobby's scowl added. "Relax, I didn't forget you." He held up a bag for approval. "Southwestern scramble, plus I got a bunch more for the road."
Sam laughed quietly as he watched the two of them continue to playfully snipe at each other; the same exchange that could have happened at any point over their lives together. Maybe things aren't so different now after all. Bobby's still Bobby; the only family Dean and I have left. Maybe I can just ask him about-
Sam's thoughts were interrupted by the sharp trill of Bobby's phone. "Yeah? Hey Mac. We're about a couple of hours away from you. Just stopped to gas up and..." A sudden frown appeared on Bobby's face and Sam knew that whatever he'd just heard wasn't good. "What kind of 'development' good or bad? Of course. When have things ever been easy? Hang on a minute, the boys are right here. I'm gonna put you on speaker."
Bobby hit a button and set the phone down on a nearby ledge. "Can you hear me all right?" he asked.
"Loud and clear," a deep voice answered and Sam thought he detected a faded English accent, as if its owner had been in the States too long. "How about you?"
Bobby looked to both Winchesters for confirmation before answering. "We hear you just fine. Okay Mac, now what's going on?"
"First, let me ask you something," MacLeod started. "You said Sam and Dean witnessed you revive after being shot. That that's why you had to tell them about Immortals. So, I assume that means you're... back to normal?"
"Well... it took a while to come back. Come to think of it, it took about as long as it did the first time. Other than that," he rolled up his sleeve to examine the cut Dean had made earlier only to find no trace of it having been there, "Healing seems to be back on track too. Why're you asking?"
Mac sighed deeply. "Because I don't want anyone near this hunt who isn't fully Immortal. We went back out and tried to salt and burn at least one corpse. I think we got maybe two shovelfuls dug up before we were slashed to ribbons. A mortal hunter wouldn't stand a chance. Now, I appreciate your friends' willingness to help, but there's no way-"
"If these things are as bad-assed as you say then you need all the help you can get." Dean interrupted. "What makes you think you and Bobby can do it alone?"
"Who is this?" MacLeod asked.
"This is Dean."
"And I'm Sam."
"Good to meet you both finally. You know, Bobby's been telling me about you both for the past dozen or so years; I feel like I already know you."
"Yeah, well I wish I could say the same," Dean grumbled and shot Bobby a look. "But you were kinda sprung on us in the last couple'a days."
"Try not to take it too personally," Mac replied. "It's a big step for one of us, to let a mortal in on our secret. I'm sure Bobby would have told you sooner if he'd found the right moment-"
"As much as I'm enjoying this little Hallmark moment," Bobby broke in. "Getting back to the hunt? Now, Dean has a point, the more people we have working on the job the faster it'll go."
"Meth- Adam's joining us as well, so that makes four Immortals with myself, you and Ri-"
"Wait, wait, wait. Are you talking about the Adam I think you are?" Bobby asked in a shocked tone. "Adam Pierson? You're honestly telling me that you got Mr. 'I didn't get to be this old by sticking my neck out' to help out on the hunt?"
Mac was quiet for a long time, and when he spoke again there was a deep sadness in his voice. "There was another killing last night. This time... this time they took out an entire family: father, mother, their twelve year old son and another boy. They were coming home from a birthday party for one of the boy's classmates and Bobby... the two boys... they were friends of young Joseph's."
Bobby stood frozen in time for a moment, then suddenly let loose a string of profanity so explicit that Sam's head snapped up in shock and even Dean blushed. "Bobby! Wha-?" Dean started to ask.
Bobby ignored the boys, focusing completely on MacLeod. "How's the boy doing? He gonna be OK?"
"Joseph's doing about as well as can be expected, but Adam's on the warpath. He's moved him and Julia into your cabin for the time being and forbidden them to leave until he's sure he's taken care of these bastards. Bobby... Joseph was supposed to be at that party too. The only reason he wasn't was because he got sick at the last minute and they insisted he stay home." MacLeod paused a moment, letting what he'd just said sink in. "That's why Adam's so dead set on seeing this through: his son could have died last night. There's no way I could keep him from this hunt even if I tried."
"This... 'Young Joseph' is your friend's son?" Sam asked, trying to follow the conversation.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Bobby took a deep breath to calm himself down and nodded. "He's Adam's eleven year old. The family bought a house just down the road from my place. All right." He shook his head to clear it. "All right, so four Immortals versus five vengeful spirits. That's pretty good odds-"
It was Sam who interrupted this time. "Correction, four Immortals and two hunters." Dean nodded in agreement.
"Boys-"
"Both of you just listen." Sam leaned in making sure MacLeod could hear him as well. "I get that this is a more intense haunt than usual, but Dean and I can handle it. Bobby, you remember the Witnesses? And the warehouse full of people infected with the Croatoan virus? MacLeod, Dean and I have been hunting almost all our lives; we know how to stay safe while getting the job done."
There was a long pause on the line before Mac sighed. "Bobby, you know them best. What do you think?"
"I think they're both completely insane and tend to take chances most hunters, mortal and Immortal alike, would think twice about." He held up a hand to forestall any argument from the brothers and continued. "But I also think they're the best damn hunters out there and we'd be crazy not to let them help." He frowned, trying to come up with a compromise that would satisfy everyone. "OK, here's what we're gonna do: Sam and Dean will concentrate on the salt 'n burn itself while us Immortals act as bodyguards, keeping the ghosts attention off the boys. It don't matter if they shred us up, we'll just heal in a few minutes."
"We can't heal fast enough to keep up with the attacks. I told you, we tried-"
"But there were just two of you then," Bobby explained. "And you were trying to dig at the same time. Four fighting, two digging. It'll work."
"Is Bobby's plan all right by you two?" MacLeod asked the brothers.
"Well, spending the whole night digging up corpses isn't exactly my idea of a good time," Dean quipped. "But yeah. Sounds good to me."
"With Dean and I both digging at the same time it should go pretty fast," Sam agreed. "And it'll get easier each time. Every body we burn is one less ghost we have to deal with."
"All right you win, just... be careful," Mac said in surrender, then cleared his throat. "Bobby, speaking of 'Young Joseph', I had a call earlier from 'Old Joseph'-"
"I'm tellin' him you called him that!" Bobby snorted.
"-And he'd like a word with you when you get the time."
"What about?"
"Officially, he wants to know if he should move you to the 'Active Roster of Immortals.'"
"Watchers," Bobby muttered under his breath. "Bunch of busy-body peeping toms-"
"Unofficially," Mac continued. "He wants to know how you are. A lot of people have been worried about you the last few years, Bobby. People who care about you and want to know that you're all right."
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Bobby looked embarrassed as he glanced at Sam and Dean. "Yeah, well... I'll call him when I get a minute."
"So I guess that's everything then. I'll let you guys get going-"
"Wait," Sam spoke up, afraid if he didn't bring this up now he'd lose his nerve. "Mac, can I ask you about something? I mean, I was going to ask Bobby, but maybe it's better to ask you both..."
"Something about Immortals?"
"Yeah. I mean... I mean I don't know, but..."
"Go on," Mac encouraged.
"When I was at the library I did some additional research..."
"Oh? Did I miss something in the case files I sent?"
"You gotta understand," Dean said in a teasing tone. "Sammy loves his research. Dreams about it. It's a sickness, really. We're looking for a twelve-step program that'll take him."
"Dude, shut up!" Sam snapped. "It wasn't about the job. It was about... I looked up the frequency of beheadings in the U.S."
Bobby's head shot up and there was a sharp intake of breath over the phone. "And what did you find?" Bobby asked cautiously.
"That there's a lot more than you'd think." Sam was grim. He'd read the police reports, seen the crime scene photos and desperately wanted to believe there wasn't a connection. "Even if you eliminate the ones that are obviously drug or gang related there are about five hundred decapitations annually. Seacouver, Washington alone averaged almost two dozen yearly between 1992 and 1997. I know that that's how your... Immortal sheriffs take down your bad guys, but that just seems like a lot to me."
Bobby and Duncan were silent for a long time, and then a voice softly came through the speaker. "You want to handle this, Bobby, or should I?"
"They're my responsibility, I got it. You rest up and I'll give you a call when we get into town."
"Alright, I'll talk to you then. Take care. All of you."
Sam watched as Bobby pocketed his phone and stood there, his eyes downcast. "So this is what's been bothering you?" he asked finally. "And instead of asking me you just let it keep gnawing at you all this time?" He blew out a long breath and shook his head. Looking around, he spied a picnic area set up with tables, benches and chairs not far off. "Come on. You best be sitting down for this."
oooOOOoooAs they walked the short distance to the nearest table the boys kept a close watch on Bobby's expression; he was wearing his 'high-stakes poker face,' making it impossible for either of them to get a read on the older man's emotions.
"Just so you both know," Bobby said once they were all seated. "I was planning on telling you. I just... thought it would be better if you digested what I'd already said first." He dropped his eyes to the ground, and the next time he spoke it was barely more than a whisper. "It ain't just 'Immortal sheriffs' that go after heads. There are some who... headhunt for pleasure."
"Wha-? Why the hell would anybody do that?" Sam was stunned. Of all the possible reasons he'd come up with, that one Immortal would behead the other for the sheer enjoyment of it had never occurred to him.
"They'd do it because of the Game." He raised his eyes to meet each brother in turn. "Every Immortal is bound to it, like it or not. We face each other one on one to the death, until the time of the Gathering."
"Gathering?" Dean repeated, fighting to control his emotions. The more he learned the less attractive this Immortality deal got.
"It's the Immortals' version of 'end times.' Christians have their Apocalypse; the Norse have Ragnarok, Immortals have the Gathering. According to the lore it's a time when those of us who are still alive will feel compelled to fight until there's only one Immortal left in the world."
"So what does the last man standing get?" Dean asked sarcastically. "What, trophy cup? Super Bowl ring?"
"They receive the combined quickenings of every Immortal who has ever lived."
"Quickening?" Sam frowned and looked to his brother, who merely shrugged his shoulders. "Is that supposed to mean something to us? Because we got nothing."
Bobby pulled a knife from his jacket and quickly sliced the blade across his palm, opening a deep wound. As Sam and Dean watched, stunned, tiny sparks of electricity appeared along the edges of the cut, closing the broken skin and making it appear as if nothing had happened.
"That was my quickening," Bobby explained to the wide-eyed pair.
"Holy crap!"
"Yeah," Bobby said, agreeing with Dean. He searched for a way to best explain it to the boys, then realized he had the perfect analogy. "It's kinda like an angel's grace. It's an energy that makes us different from ordinary mortals; it's the source of our quick healing and longevity. Our quickening contains the essence of all the knowledge and strength we've accumulated over our lifetime. When one Immortal kills another they absorb their quickening, adding it to their own which then strengthens it."
"So, it's like a power up in a video game," Sam said, finally finding his voice. "The more of these 'quickenings' you take, the more powerful you become?"
Bobby nodded somberly. "An Immortal's quickening is determined by two things: age and how many heads he or she's taken. Older Immortals, or ones who're active in the Game, like Mac, are often targeted by headhunters. To use your video game analogy they're worth more 'points'. Now, nobody knows for sure what the ultimate prize is. I've heard everything from unlimited knowledge and power, to the ability to have children to becoming mortal again."
"Let me get this straight," Dean said as he stood and began pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "You guys are running around killing each other to win a prize that you don't know what it is or if it's even real?"
"That's about the size of it." Bobby admitted. "The prize for winning could be enough power to make yourself a god..."
"Or it could be a waffle iron!" he spat. "So you're telling me that... that random dudes are gonna just come along and try to gank you for no reason other than they're playing a game?"
"I'm fairly low on the totem-pole," Bobby offered, trying to soothe the boy's nerves. "I avoid challenges whenever possible. In the hundred and thirty-five years I've been Immortal I've fought less than two dozen times. And while one-ninety sounds like a lot to you, in Immortal terms I'm barely outta my teens, so I'm not really much of a target. Last headhunter I faced was almost six years ago."
"And this 'Gathering'?" Sam asked. "Do we really have to worry about another supernatural end-of-world scenario?"
"First off, the world's been on the brink loads of times over the centuries. That's what I was trying to make you understand back in Hammonton. Don't worry about the big picture, just focus on what's in front of you right now. There was a Zoroastrian Apocalypse that Mac shut down back in '97 and locked Ahriman in his cage for another thousand years-"
"Wait, what?" Sam stared slack-jawed at Bobby. "Another Apocalypse, another cage?"
"Cliff Notes of the abridged version is: once every millennium the baddest of bad-assed demons gets sprung topside to face the good guys' champion. If the champion wins it's business as usual for everybody. But if Ahriman were to win... well, you've both been to Hell. Imagine the Earth being turned into that for a thousand years."
Sam felt sick, and by the look on Dean's face he knew he felt the same way. The world had almost ended fourteen years ago and they didn't even know about it? "You said Mac shut it down. Does that mean he...?"
Bobby nodded. "He was the champion this time 'round. Ultimately the fight was on his shoulders, but a few of us helped out with the research and strategy."
"Another 'Team Free Will,'" Dean whispered in amazement, his opinion of Bobby's Immortal friend rising by the second.
Bobby grinned and continued. "And as far as the Gathering goes, I'm not even sure there'll ever be one, but if there will it won't be for a long time yet." Bobby stood to face Dean. "New Immortals keep poppin' up all the time. In the last twenty years I know of eleven 'newborns' and I've run across six others that haven't been 'activated' yet. Now, that's just me; multiply that number by all the Immortals around the world. I got a good friend, Joe Dawson, and he-"
Sam remembered something Mac had mentioned earlier. "Is he the 'old Joseph' you and Mac were talking about earlier? You called him a... a Watcher?"
"I wouldn't call him 'Old Joseph' to his face if I were you," Bobby laughed. "But yeah. Joe's part of an organization called The Watchers... I guess you could say they're historians. They know more about Immortals than anyone and have records on us going back almost to the beginning. Now, Joe says that he's done some checking, and the number of active Immortals stays pretty constant give or take a dozen or so. If he says we're not about to go extinct, I'd be inclined to believe him."
oooOOOoooIt was mid-afternoon by the time they made Gillette. The setting sun painted the autumnal landscape in hues of red and gold as the Bobby and the Winchesters pulled up to the abandoned house MacLeod was operating out of.
"I guess even Immortals have to use hunter's discount accommodations," Dean said, giving the dilapidated building a passing glance.
Bobby rolled his eyes. "Well what were you expecting? The Ritz-Carlton?"
"I don't know." Dean shrugged his shoulders as he looked around. "You said this guy was some kind of chieftain's son from Scotland. I was thinkin' castle, maybe a moat?"
"Moat?" Bobby stared disbelievingly at the older Winchester. "We're in Wyoming you moron. Where the hell do you think you're gonna find a m-" He broke off suddenly with a moan of pain, his hands flying up to press against the sides of his head.
"Bobby, what is it?" Dean asked as he rushed to his side.
"Been a long time since that's happened," Bobby grunted a few moments later, finally regaining his composure. As quickly and silently as he could he entered the van's open side door and reached for a long wooden box. Taking a deep breath he lifted the lid. "I was beginning to think I'd never need this again."
"Bobby!" Sam stared in shock as Bobby pulled out an antique sword, its blade etched with occult symbols. "Perimeter alert," he whispered as he realized what was happening. "You think you sense an Immortal, don't you?"
"Not think, know."
"Maybe it's MacLeod," Dean offered hopefully. "I mean, this is where he told you to meet him."
"Yeah, maybe," Bobby responded slowly. "Stay here until I know for sure."
Both brothers began to protest. "But Bobby-"
"I mean it!" he growled as he turned to face them. "Stay here!" With that he tucked the sword into the folds of his jacket and turned towards the wooded area to the left of the house.
Sam and Dean stood frozen in their tracks. They looked from Bobby's retreating form, to one another and back again, uncertain of what to do. This wasn't anything they'd ever dealt with before; on the one hand, Bobby had been clear that he expected them to stay put until he knew who the mystery Immortal was. On the other hand...
"Screw this," Dean said, pulling his gun from his waistband. "We just got him back. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some... freakin' headhunter take him away now." Cautiously he followed after the older hunter, Sam joining him a moment later.
oooOOOooo"Well, well, well, fancy meeting you here."
Dean cursed under his breath. He and Sam were hiding behind one of the large over-grown shrubs that dotted the grounds, watching as the stranger came out from behind the house to confront Bobby. That is not MacLeod, he decided. His voice is too high and his accent's American, not English.
"Been a while old timer," the new Immortal said.
"Five years," was Bobby's reply.
The stranger looked Bobby up and down, as if studying him. "You put on weight?"
Bobby cocked an eyebrow at the insult. "I can still handle myself in a fight. Care to find out?"
"Actually, yeah," he said, squaring his shoulders and adopting a stance that reminded Dean of Old West gunslingers. "I've been looking forward to a rematch."
No-no-no! Dean's mind screamed. While he was sure Bobby could handle himself most of the time, years of practice sizing up opponents told Dean this guy was a seasoned fighter. He had a frame that was well toned and built for speed and agility, rather than the bulky body builder look that was all for show. A panther rather than an ox. Dean did not want Bobby fighting this guy.
The two Immortals were slowly circling towards each other now, neither one making the first move nor taking his eyes off his opponent. When they were within an arm's length of each other, as if by some silent agreement, they both reached forward and pulled one another into a friendly hug.
"Good to see you boy!" Bobby laughed as he released the stranger, his eyes dancing.
"You too, Bobby. Man, I've missed you!" It was as if a mask had fallen away, changing the other Immortal's appearance. Gone was the look of a hungry predator sizing up his prey; now he looked more like a young college student home for the weekend.
"I know you two idjits are there," Bobby suddenly called out over his shoulder. "You might as well come out."
The boys slowly filed out from hiding. The sheepish look gracing both of their faces gave them the appearance of children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
"I'm guessing you two know each other?" Dean asked innocently.
Bobby gave a frustrated sigh. "Sam and Dean Winchester," he said gesturing to the brothers. "I want you boys to meet a student of mine." He draped his arm across the other man's shoulder affectionately and smiled. "Boys, say hello to Richie Ryan."
Chapter 5: Teacher, Teacher
oooOOOoooA/N2: And now you know why I wanted to hold this chapter until I was done with the Ahriman rewrite. In this 'verse Richie Ryan Lives!
A note on Adam Pierson's wife and son: they are canon. Sort of. In the 2008 Highlander Reunion webisode, he announced that he was marrying a woman named Julia, who had an eight year old son named Joseph. While they never appeared onscreen, and there's some doubt whether or not he went through with the wedding, I liked the idea, so in my 'verse he's a happily married father.
Rating: PG:13
Spoilers: 7.10 Death's Door
Crossover, AU
Summary: When Bobby mysteriously disappears from the hospital after an encounter with the Leviathan Sam and Dean think they know what’s behind it. But the truth is beyond any of their wildest dreams and will change the way they see the older hunter forever. Spoilers all episodes up to 7.10 "Death's Door" Supernatural/Highlander/Deadwood crossover
Long A/N: After I saw "The Girl With the Dungeons and Dragons Tattoo" I got excited, thinking my fic was going to be Kripked. But it turns out that, no, my idea for dealing with the Leviathan is different (well, duh! There are no Immortals in canon.) Anyway, if there were ever any doubt that this was going in a totally AU direction let me state it for the record: From "Death's Door" onward this fic will bear little, if any, resemblance to canon. So the way the season ended? Forget it. I might incorporate a few things I liked here and there, but for the most part the story will be going in its own direction.
*ahem* Right. So, back on track. Sorry about the long delay between chapters. I had *planned* to wait until I was done with the Ahriman story before posting this, but (story of my life) it got away from me and is growing by the *minute* practically. So I'll be switching between the two stories from here on out. Plus the odd one shot here and there.
Disclaimer: I own absolutely nothing associated with Supernatural, Highlander or Deadwood. If I did Ellsworth would have lived, Bobby would have lived, Richie would have lived, and the train wreck that was "Highlander: The Source" would never have seen the light of day! I'm just a fan trying my best to add to the worlds that they began.
Many thanks to dnachemlia for the beta.
oooOOOoooThey'd been on the road for more than a day now. The overcast sky occasionally released a light rain that would slicken the roads and force them to slow down, but eager to arrive at their destination they'd stopped just twice for gas, coffee and to switch drivers before rushing off again. Once the initial briefing on the hunt was over an exhausted Bobby retired to the makeshift bed in the back of the van, stretched out, and finally drifted off to sleep.
As the sky lightened with the coming dawn Sam sat silently behind the wheel and watched the road, not even acknowledging his brother's presence beside him. Normally the silence wouldn't have bothered Dean- Sam was often quiet while driving- but this time he seemed different. Distracted. Worried.
"Hey, Sammy? You ok?" Dean asked softly so as not to wake Bobby.
Sam made no response at first, as though he hadn't heard, then quickly blinked and looked over. "Hmm? Oh. Yeah. I'm fine."
"You want me to take over for a while?"
"No, I'm good."
Dean wasn't buying it though. "Really? 'Cause you don't seem 'fine' or 'good' to me." He leaned over and keeping his voice low continued. "Come on man, talk to me. What's wrong?"
Sam smirked at his older brother. "Isn't that usually my line?"
"Ha-ha-ha, very funny. I'm serious here; you've been acting weird ever since you came out of the library yesterday. Now, something's going on with you... so spill."
Sam sighed and adjusted his grip on the steering wheel. Maybe he was worried over nothing. Maybe it was all just a coincidence. Maybe... "I think... I think there's something Bobby's not telling us."
"Well, yeah, he did say there was more, remember? And I'm sure he's got... like a century's worth of crap to tell us about. Just give him time. I mean, now that we're in on the 'Big Secret' I'm sure he'll fill us in on the rest."
"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so," Sam began. "It's just that I found... you know what? Never mind, I'm sure it's nothing."
"It's just that you found what? What's nothing?" He was more worried now. If it had just been Sam's missing wall that would've been bad enough. But Dean was still having trouble with the whole 'I'm almost two centuries old and can't be killed unless you chop off my head' thing. So Sam being concerned about anything having to do with Bobby's Immortality immediately bumped Dean's worry level up to DEFCON three. "Sam? Did he say something to you while I was in the can or somethin'?"
Sam's response was cut off by a loud yawn coming from the back. "What time is it?" Bobby asked sleepily as he sat up and stretched, working the kinks out of his back.
Dean sighed and sat back. He knew that whatever Sam had been about to say he wasn't going to say it now. "It's a little before seven AM," he replied.
Bobby nodded and addressed Sam as he made his way forward. "Give me a chance to get some caffeine in my system and I'll take over the wheel."
"That's ok, I'm fine," Sam said in an even tone, keeping his eyes firmly on the road.
Bobby eyed him skeptically. "Nah, you look half dead. You try and get some rest and let me drive the last leg."
Sam glanced at the folded map next to him. They were keeping to the back roads; the highways, while faster were more likely to have traffic cams and other surveillance methods in place. They couldn't take the chance of the Leviathan tracking them. "According to the map there's a small town coming up. We can gas up and switch drivers there."
"Fine by me." Bobby watched the younger Winchester closely. Sam had fallen silent again, but every once in a while a strange expression would cross his face. As if he was having a conversation they couldn't hear. "You ok?" he asked, echoing Dean's earlier question.
"Look," Sam huffed. "I'm fine. I've just got a lot on my mind right now. So don't worry." He shot a quick glance at his brother and added. "Either of you."
But Dean still wasn't convinced. "You sure about that?"
"Yeah, I'm sure. You know, actually," he said, a ghost of a smile passing over his face. "I haven't seen or heard anything, you know, Hell related, since Bobby's big revelation. I think... I don't know, maybe my brain can only handle one crazy at a time, so right now it's focusing on... this." He gestured in Bobby's direction.
"So my comin' outta the Immortal closet is keeping the devil at bay?" Bobby nodded, grinning slightly. "Good to know." Then he cocked his head to one side, deep in thought for a moment before continuing. "Let me know if Lucifer starts in on you again. I'll tell you about the time Rufus and I ended up running buck naked through a Louisiana swamp with a Letiche hot on our tails. That story's crazy enough to hold you for a month at least."
Sam and Dean both grimaced as unwanted images flashed through their minds. "Uh... Bobby? Promise me something?" Sam said slowly.
"What?"
Sam shuddered before answering. "Promise me you'll never tell me that story!"
Dean merely shook his head with revulsion. There were some things about his old friend he just didn't want to think about.
oooOOOoooThe town turned out to be little more than an overgrown rest stop: a gas station, diner and cheap motel were the main features, with a few scattered houses and shops rounding out the town's borders. While Bobby and Dean went into the grocers across the street, Sam topped off the gas tank and pondered recent events some more. The revelation that there was a race of Immortal humans, and that Bobby was one of them, had initially shocked him but over the last few years he'd learned to quickly adjust. Angels, vessels, alphas, Leviathan-Immortals were just one more new creature.
No, he chastised himself. Not creatures, beings. Beings who were just... different, like Cas. Or like Pamela or Missouri- humans who had something extra that set them apart. But the beheadings-
"You just about done there, Sam?"
Sam had been so deep in thought he hadn't even noticed Bobby's approach. If Dad knew I let someone sneak up on me like that I'd be running laps until I dropped. "Yeah. Yeah, we're all set."
Dean appeared a moment later. "Dude, we totally gotta remember this place!" He was licking his lips and holding something wrapped in waxed paper. "Handmade pocket pies! Fruit pies, pizza pies, breakfast specials- I got you an egg white omelet one, since I know you're watching your girlish figure."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Funny."
"Hey, what am I, Casper the friendly ghost here that I don't need food?" Bobby demanded in mock indignation.
"Well, you did die. Got the death certificate to prove it and everything," Dean teased, then at Bobby's scowl added. "Relax, I didn't forget you." He held up a bag for approval. "Southwestern scramble, plus I got a bunch more for the road."
Sam laughed quietly as he watched the two of them continue to playfully snipe at each other; the same exchange that could have happened at any point over their lives together. Maybe things aren't so different now after all. Bobby's still Bobby; the only family Dean and I have left. Maybe I can just ask him about-
Sam's thoughts were interrupted by the sharp trill of Bobby's phone. "Yeah? Hey Mac. We're about a couple of hours away from you. Just stopped to gas up and..." A sudden frown appeared on Bobby's face and Sam knew that whatever he'd just heard wasn't good. "What kind of 'development' good or bad? Of course. When have things ever been easy? Hang on a minute, the boys are right here. I'm gonna put you on speaker."
Bobby hit a button and set the phone down on a nearby ledge. "Can you hear me all right?" he asked.
"Loud and clear," a deep voice answered and Sam thought he detected a faded English accent, as if its owner had been in the States too long. "How about you?"
Bobby looked to both Winchesters for confirmation before answering. "We hear you just fine. Okay Mac, now what's going on?"
"First, let me ask you something," MacLeod started. "You said Sam and Dean witnessed you revive after being shot. That that's why you had to tell them about Immortals. So, I assume that means you're... back to normal?"
"Well... it took a while to come back. Come to think of it, it took about as long as it did the first time. Other than that," he rolled up his sleeve to examine the cut Dean had made earlier only to find no trace of it having been there, "Healing seems to be back on track too. Why're you asking?"
Mac sighed deeply. "Because I don't want anyone near this hunt who isn't fully Immortal. We went back out and tried to salt and burn at least one corpse. I think we got maybe two shovelfuls dug up before we were slashed to ribbons. A mortal hunter wouldn't stand a chance. Now, I appreciate your friends' willingness to help, but there's no way-"
"If these things are as bad-assed as you say then you need all the help you can get." Dean interrupted. "What makes you think you and Bobby can do it alone?"
"Who is this?" MacLeod asked.
"This is Dean."
"And I'm Sam."
"Good to meet you both finally. You know, Bobby's been telling me about you both for the past dozen or so years; I feel like I already know you."
"Yeah, well I wish I could say the same," Dean grumbled and shot Bobby a look. "But you were kinda sprung on us in the last couple'a days."
"Try not to take it too personally," Mac replied. "It's a big step for one of us, to let a mortal in on our secret. I'm sure Bobby would have told you sooner if he'd found the right moment-"
"As much as I'm enjoying this little Hallmark moment," Bobby broke in. "Getting back to the hunt? Now, Dean has a point, the more people we have working on the job the faster it'll go."
"Meth- Adam's joining us as well, so that makes four Immortals with myself, you and Ri-"
"Wait, wait, wait. Are you talking about the Adam I think you are?" Bobby asked in a shocked tone. "Adam Pierson? You're honestly telling me that you got Mr. 'I didn't get to be this old by sticking my neck out' to help out on the hunt?"
Mac was quiet for a long time, and when he spoke again there was a deep sadness in his voice. "There was another killing last night. This time... this time they took out an entire family: father, mother, their twelve year old son and another boy. They were coming home from a birthday party for one of the boy's classmates and Bobby... the two boys... they were friends of young Joseph's."
Bobby stood frozen in time for a moment, then suddenly let loose a string of profanity so explicit that Sam's head snapped up in shock and even Dean blushed. "Bobby! Wha-?" Dean started to ask.
Bobby ignored the boys, focusing completely on MacLeod. "How's the boy doing? He gonna be OK?"
"Joseph's doing about as well as can be expected, but Adam's on the warpath. He's moved him and Julia into your cabin for the time being and forbidden them to leave until he's sure he's taken care of these bastards. Bobby... Joseph was supposed to be at that party too. The only reason he wasn't was because he got sick at the last minute and they insisted he stay home." MacLeod paused a moment, letting what he'd just said sink in. "That's why Adam's so dead set on seeing this through: his son could have died last night. There's no way I could keep him from this hunt even if I tried."
"This... 'Young Joseph' is your friend's son?" Sam asked, trying to follow the conversation.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Bobby took a deep breath to calm himself down and nodded. "He's Adam's eleven year old. The family bought a house just down the road from my place. All right." He shook his head to clear it. "All right, so four Immortals versus five vengeful spirits. That's pretty good odds-"
It was Sam who interrupted this time. "Correction, four Immortals and two hunters." Dean nodded in agreement.
"Boys-"
"Both of you just listen." Sam leaned in making sure MacLeod could hear him as well. "I get that this is a more intense haunt than usual, but Dean and I can handle it. Bobby, you remember the Witnesses? And the warehouse full of people infected with the Croatoan virus? MacLeod, Dean and I have been hunting almost all our lives; we know how to stay safe while getting the job done."
There was a long pause on the line before Mac sighed. "Bobby, you know them best. What do you think?"
"I think they're both completely insane and tend to take chances most hunters, mortal and Immortal alike, would think twice about." He held up a hand to forestall any argument from the brothers and continued. "But I also think they're the best damn hunters out there and we'd be crazy not to let them help." He frowned, trying to come up with a compromise that would satisfy everyone. "OK, here's what we're gonna do: Sam and Dean will concentrate on the salt 'n burn itself while us Immortals act as bodyguards, keeping the ghosts attention off the boys. It don't matter if they shred us up, we'll just heal in a few minutes."
"We can't heal fast enough to keep up with the attacks. I told you, we tried-"
"But there were just two of you then," Bobby explained. "And you were trying to dig at the same time. Four fighting, two digging. It'll work."
"Is Bobby's plan all right by you two?" MacLeod asked the brothers.
"Well, spending the whole night digging up corpses isn't exactly my idea of a good time," Dean quipped. "But yeah. Sounds good to me."
"With Dean and I both digging at the same time it should go pretty fast," Sam agreed. "And it'll get easier each time. Every body we burn is one less ghost we have to deal with."
"All right you win, just... be careful," Mac said in surrender, then cleared his throat. "Bobby, speaking of 'Young Joseph', I had a call earlier from 'Old Joseph'-"
"I'm tellin' him you called him that!" Bobby snorted.
"-And he'd like a word with you when you get the time."
"What about?"
"Officially, he wants to know if he should move you to the 'Active Roster of Immortals.'"
"Watchers," Bobby muttered under his breath. "Bunch of busy-body peeping toms-"
"Unofficially," Mac continued. "He wants to know how you are. A lot of people have been worried about you the last few years, Bobby. People who care about you and want to know that you're all right."
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Bobby looked embarrassed as he glanced at Sam and Dean. "Yeah, well... I'll call him when I get a minute."
"So I guess that's everything then. I'll let you guys get going-"
"Wait," Sam spoke up, afraid if he didn't bring this up now he'd lose his nerve. "Mac, can I ask you about something? I mean, I was going to ask Bobby, but maybe it's better to ask you both..."
"Something about Immortals?"
"Yeah. I mean... I mean I don't know, but..."
"Go on," Mac encouraged.
"When I was at the library I did some additional research..."
"Oh? Did I miss something in the case files I sent?"
"You gotta understand," Dean said in a teasing tone. "Sammy loves his research. Dreams about it. It's a sickness, really. We're looking for a twelve-step program that'll take him."
"Dude, shut up!" Sam snapped. "It wasn't about the job. It was about... I looked up the frequency of beheadings in the U.S."
Bobby's head shot up and there was a sharp intake of breath over the phone. "And what did you find?" Bobby asked cautiously.
"That there's a lot more than you'd think." Sam was grim. He'd read the police reports, seen the crime scene photos and desperately wanted to believe there wasn't a connection. "Even if you eliminate the ones that are obviously drug or gang related there are about five hundred decapitations annually. Seacouver, Washington alone averaged almost two dozen yearly between 1992 and 1997. I know that that's how your... Immortal sheriffs take down your bad guys, but that just seems like a lot to me."
Bobby and Duncan were silent for a long time, and then a voice softly came through the speaker. "You want to handle this, Bobby, or should I?"
"They're my responsibility, I got it. You rest up and I'll give you a call when we get into town."
"Alright, I'll talk to you then. Take care. All of you."
Sam watched as Bobby pocketed his phone and stood there, his eyes downcast. "So this is what's been bothering you?" he asked finally. "And instead of asking me you just let it keep gnawing at you all this time?" He blew out a long breath and shook his head. Looking around, he spied a picnic area set up with tables, benches and chairs not far off. "Come on. You best be sitting down for this."
oooOOOoooAs they walked the short distance to the nearest table the boys kept a close watch on Bobby's expression; he was wearing his 'high-stakes poker face,' making it impossible for either of them to get a read on the older man's emotions.
"Just so you both know," Bobby said once they were all seated. "I was planning on telling you. I just... thought it would be better if you digested what I'd already said first." He dropped his eyes to the ground, and the next time he spoke it was barely more than a whisper. "It ain't just 'Immortal sheriffs' that go after heads. There are some who... headhunt for pleasure."
"Wha-? Why the hell would anybody do that?" Sam was stunned. Of all the possible reasons he'd come up with, that one Immortal would behead the other for the sheer enjoyment of it had never occurred to him.
"They'd do it because of the Game." He raised his eyes to meet each brother in turn. "Every Immortal is bound to it, like it or not. We face each other one on one to the death, until the time of the Gathering."
"Gathering?" Dean repeated, fighting to control his emotions. The more he learned the less attractive this Immortality deal got.
"It's the Immortals' version of 'end times.' Christians have their Apocalypse; the Norse have Ragnarok, Immortals have the Gathering. According to the lore it's a time when those of us who are still alive will feel compelled to fight until there's only one Immortal left in the world."
"So what does the last man standing get?" Dean asked sarcastically. "What, trophy cup? Super Bowl ring?"
"They receive the combined quickenings of every Immortal who has ever lived."
"Quickening?" Sam frowned and looked to his brother, who merely shrugged his shoulders. "Is that supposed to mean something to us? Because we got nothing."
Bobby pulled a knife from his jacket and quickly sliced the blade across his palm, opening a deep wound. As Sam and Dean watched, stunned, tiny sparks of electricity appeared along the edges of the cut, closing the broken skin and making it appear as if nothing had happened.
"That was my quickening," Bobby explained to the wide-eyed pair.
"Holy crap!"
"Yeah," Bobby said, agreeing with Dean. He searched for a way to best explain it to the boys, then realized he had the perfect analogy. "It's kinda like an angel's grace. It's an energy that makes us different from ordinary mortals; it's the source of our quick healing and longevity. Our quickening contains the essence of all the knowledge and strength we've accumulated over our lifetime. When one Immortal kills another they absorb their quickening, adding it to their own which then strengthens it."
"So, it's like a power up in a video game," Sam said, finally finding his voice. "The more of these 'quickenings' you take, the more powerful you become?"
Bobby nodded somberly. "An Immortal's quickening is determined by two things: age and how many heads he or she's taken. Older Immortals, or ones who're active in the Game, like Mac, are often targeted by headhunters. To use your video game analogy they're worth more 'points'. Now, nobody knows for sure what the ultimate prize is. I've heard everything from unlimited knowledge and power, to the ability to have children to becoming mortal again."
"Let me get this straight," Dean said as he stood and began pacing back and forth like a caged animal. "You guys are running around killing each other to win a prize that you don't know what it is or if it's even real?"
"That's about the size of it." Bobby admitted. "The prize for winning could be enough power to make yourself a god..."
"Or it could be a waffle iron!" he spat. "So you're telling me that... that random dudes are gonna just come along and try to gank you for no reason other than they're playing a game?"
"I'm fairly low on the totem-pole," Bobby offered, trying to soothe the boy's nerves. "I avoid challenges whenever possible. In the hundred and thirty-five years I've been Immortal I've fought less than two dozen times. And while one-ninety sounds like a lot to you, in Immortal terms I'm barely outta my teens, so I'm not really much of a target. Last headhunter I faced was almost six years ago."
"And this 'Gathering'?" Sam asked. "Do we really have to worry about another supernatural end-of-world scenario?"
"First off, the world's been on the brink loads of times over the centuries. That's what I was trying to make you understand back in Hammonton. Don't worry about the big picture, just focus on what's in front of you right now. There was a Zoroastrian Apocalypse that Mac shut down back in '97 and locked Ahriman in his cage for another thousand years-"
"Wait, what?" Sam stared slack-jawed at Bobby. "Another Apocalypse, another cage?"
"Cliff Notes of the abridged version is: once every millennium the baddest of bad-assed demons gets sprung topside to face the good guys' champion. If the champion wins it's business as usual for everybody. But if Ahriman were to win... well, you've both been to Hell. Imagine the Earth being turned into that for a thousand years."
Sam felt sick, and by the look on Dean's face he knew he felt the same way. The world had almost ended fourteen years ago and they didn't even know about it? "You said Mac shut it down. Does that mean he...?"
Bobby nodded. "He was the champion this time 'round. Ultimately the fight was on his shoulders, but a few of us helped out with the research and strategy."
"Another 'Team Free Will,'" Dean whispered in amazement, his opinion of Bobby's Immortal friend rising by the second.
Bobby grinned and continued. "And as far as the Gathering goes, I'm not even sure there'll ever be one, but if there will it won't be for a long time yet." Bobby stood to face Dean. "New Immortals keep poppin' up all the time. In the last twenty years I know of eleven 'newborns' and I've run across six others that haven't been 'activated' yet. Now, that's just me; multiply that number by all the Immortals around the world. I got a good friend, Joe Dawson, and he-"
Sam remembered something Mac had mentioned earlier. "Is he the 'old Joseph' you and Mac were talking about earlier? You called him a... a Watcher?"
"I wouldn't call him 'Old Joseph' to his face if I were you," Bobby laughed. "But yeah. Joe's part of an organization called The Watchers... I guess you could say they're historians. They know more about Immortals than anyone and have records on us going back almost to the beginning. Now, Joe says that he's done some checking, and the number of active Immortals stays pretty constant give or take a dozen or so. If he says we're not about to go extinct, I'd be inclined to believe him."
oooOOOoooIt was mid-afternoon by the time they made Gillette. The setting sun painted the autumnal landscape in hues of red and gold as the Bobby and the Winchesters pulled up to the abandoned house MacLeod was operating out of.
"I guess even Immortals have to use hunter's discount accommodations," Dean said, giving the dilapidated building a passing glance.
Bobby rolled his eyes. "Well what were you expecting? The Ritz-Carlton?"
"I don't know." Dean shrugged his shoulders as he looked around. "You said this guy was some kind of chieftain's son from Scotland. I was thinkin' castle, maybe a moat?"
"Moat?" Bobby stared disbelievingly at the older Winchester. "We're in Wyoming you moron. Where the hell do you think you're gonna find a m-" He broke off suddenly with a moan of pain, his hands flying up to press against the sides of his head.
"Bobby, what is it?" Dean asked as he rushed to his side.
"Been a long time since that's happened," Bobby grunted a few moments later, finally regaining his composure. As quickly and silently as he could he entered the van's open side door and reached for a long wooden box. Taking a deep breath he lifted the lid. "I was beginning to think I'd never need this again."
"Bobby!" Sam stared in shock as Bobby pulled out an antique sword, its blade etched with occult symbols. "Perimeter alert," he whispered as he realized what was happening. "You think you sense an Immortal, don't you?"
"Not think, know."
"Maybe it's MacLeod," Dean offered hopefully. "I mean, this is where he told you to meet him."
"Yeah, maybe," Bobby responded slowly. "Stay here until I know for sure."
Both brothers began to protest. "But Bobby-"
"I mean it!" he growled as he turned to face them. "Stay here!" With that he tucked the sword into the folds of his jacket and turned towards the wooded area to the left of the house.
Sam and Dean stood frozen in their tracks. They looked from Bobby's retreating form, to one another and back again, uncertain of what to do. This wasn't anything they'd ever dealt with before; on the one hand, Bobby had been clear that he expected them to stay put until he knew who the mystery Immortal was. On the other hand...
"Screw this," Dean said, pulling his gun from his waistband. "We just got him back. And I'll be damned if I'm gonna let some... freakin' headhunter take him away now." Cautiously he followed after the older hunter, Sam joining him a moment later.
oooOOOooo"Well, well, well, fancy meeting you here."
Dean cursed under his breath. He and Sam were hiding behind one of the large over-grown shrubs that dotted the grounds, watching as the stranger came out from behind the house to confront Bobby. That is not MacLeod, he decided. His voice is too high and his accent's American, not English.
"Been a while old timer," the new Immortal said.
"Five years," was Bobby's reply.
The stranger looked Bobby up and down, as if studying him. "You put on weight?"
Bobby cocked an eyebrow at the insult. "I can still handle myself in a fight. Care to find out?"
"Actually, yeah," he said, squaring his shoulders and adopting a stance that reminded Dean of Old West gunslingers. "I've been looking forward to a rematch."
No-no-no! Dean's mind screamed. While he was sure Bobby could handle himself most of the time, years of practice sizing up opponents told Dean this guy was a seasoned fighter. He had a frame that was well toned and built for speed and agility, rather than the bulky body builder look that was all for show. A panther rather than an ox. Dean did not want Bobby fighting this guy.
The two Immortals were slowly circling towards each other now, neither one making the first move nor taking his eyes off his opponent. When they were within an arm's length of each other, as if by some silent agreement, they both reached forward and pulled one another into a friendly hug.
"Good to see you boy!" Bobby laughed as he released the stranger, his eyes dancing.
"You too, Bobby. Man, I've missed you!" It was as if a mask had fallen away, changing the other Immortal's appearance. Gone was the look of a hungry predator sizing up his prey; now he looked more like a young college student home for the weekend.
"I know you two idjits are there," Bobby suddenly called out over his shoulder. "You might as well come out."
The boys slowly filed out from hiding. The sheepish look gracing both of their faces gave them the appearance of children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
"I'm guessing you two know each other?" Dean asked innocently.
Bobby gave a frustrated sigh. "Sam and Dean Winchester," he said gesturing to the brothers. "I want you boys to meet a student of mine." He draped his arm across the other man's shoulder affectionately and smiled. "Boys, say hello to Richie Ryan."
Chapter 5: Teacher, Teacher
oooOOOoooA/N2: And now you know why I wanted to hold this chapter until I was done with the Ahriman rewrite. In this 'verse Richie Ryan Lives!
A note on Adam Pierson's wife and son: they are canon. Sort of. In the 2008 Highlander Reunion webisode, he announced that he was marrying a woman named Julia, who had an eight year old son named Joseph. While they never appeared onscreen, and there's some doubt whether or not he went through with the wedding, I liked the idea, so in my 'verse he's a happily married father.