Fic: Die Another Day 5/? 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
oooOOOooo"Teacher, teacher, can you teach me? Can you tell me all I need to know? Teacher, teacher, can you reach me? Or will I fall when you let me go?"
"I, uh, would've had the welcome mat out for you guys," Richie said as he switched off the radio and began cleaning up garbage from the folding table situated in the center of the room. "But Mac said you weren't getting in 'til later and were going to call first."
Dean lingered in the doorway watching Richie. Now that he knew he was 'friend' not 'foe' he paid more attention to the young-looking man's appearance beyond just sizing him up as an opponent. Fresh faced with close cropped reddish-blond hair he looked less like an Immortal warrior and more like a college student blindsided by a surprise visit from his parents. The kid definitely wasn't what he'd expected an Immortal to be like.
Not that I ever expected someone like Bobby to be Immortal either, he thought. And God, can I even call Richie a kid? Just how old is he? Bobby'd said that how old an Immortal looked depended on their age at the time of their 'first death.' Sure, he looks like he should be chasing co-eds around a frat house but he could be centuries old.
Bobby nodded to Richie. "Yeah well, we decided to put the pedal to the metal considering..." He let the sentence drift off. Dean knew the latest attack was hitting Bobby hard. A near miss for a friend was bad enough, but a near miss for a friend's kid wasn't something you wanted to even think about, especially for someone like Bobby who, despite his 'mean old drunk' act, had a real soft spot for kids.
"So Mac told you what happened last night?" Richie asked, looking up to meet the other hunter's eyes.
"Yeah. You hear anything more from Adam?"
Richie shook his head slowly. "Not really, I talked to him one time this morning." He crossed his arms over his chest, almost hugging himself. "He's really torn up over this Bobby. Mac says he hasn't seen him this bad since Alexa."
"Alexa?" Sam asked, trying to follow the conversation.
Bobby turned back to the boys. "Adam's wife before Julia," he explained. "She died of cancer back in 1996."
"I never had the chance to meet her," Richie said sadly. "I was out of town when they met and by the time I got back they'd gone off travelling together. I caught up with him again later that year, but... she was already gone. Mac was there for him though, and according to him Adam was beside himself for a long time, blaming himself for not trying harder."
"Trying harder to what?" Sam asked. "If she died of cancer what could he have done?"
"He blamed himself for not making her immortal."
Dean suddenly snapped to attention. "What? Can you guys do that, turn a mortal into-"
"NO!" Bobby practically shouted, not wanting the brothers to get any ideas. "Immortality is like race: we can no more turn someone into one of us than we could turn them Black or Chinese." He sighed and softened his expression. "There's a legend about a mystical object called the 'Methuselah Stone.' Supposedly it has the power to turn any mortal immortal for as long as they possess it. That's 'immortal' with a little 'i'," he emphasized. "Adam tried to find it for Alexa- did find it in fact- but it was destroyed before he had the chance to bring it back to her."
Dean swallowed hard, trying to imagine how the man must have felt. To be so close to saving someone he loved only to have the chance slip through his fingers at the last second. "No wonder he felt guilty about it," he muttered softly, then raised his voice to normal and asked, "So, he has some experience with hunting then? I mean he knew about the Stone and where to find it."
Richie looked to Bobby for guidance, who spoke up. "He's not a hunter, but he knows the lore and can do the job when need be. Adam was an important part of the group that took down Ahriman."
"Ahriman?" Sam's eyebrows shot up and he shared a look with Dean. "The demon you mentioned earlier? The one that almost started the Apocalypse fourteen years ago?"
"Yeah, that's the one. Adam even faced him personally. He might not have been the one to send Ahriman back into the cage, but he won a pretty tough personal fight against him." Bobby smiled slightly, momentarily lost in the memory. "You don't have to worry about him pulling his weight," he said. "The old man won't let you down."
'Old man?' Do I even want to know what that means among Immortals? Dean stepped forward and nervously licking his lips, addressed Richie. "I was just wondering... I don't know if this is the wrong thing to ask... I mean, maybe Immortals are like chicks, and don't like telling their age, but... how old are you anyway?"
"Well, I don't know how much I like being compared to a woman," Richie laughed, grateful for the change in topic. "But you're right; we tend to be careful about revealing our true age to people. Bobby told you guys about the Game, right?"
"Yeah and that part still freaks me the hell out." Dean glared at Bobby again. He just couldn't wrap his head around the idea of his surrogate father being trapped in a deadly game of 'tag' for centuries.
Bobby snorted back at him. "Hey, I'm not all that fond of it either."
"Bobby talked about 'quickenings,'" Sam explained. "About how older Immortals are more powerful and sort of... worth more in the Game."
Richie nodded. "Right, so jumping up and down shouting 'I'm two-thousand years old' or whatever would get you a line of headhunters a mile long waiting to take you on."
Dean blinked rapidly. He's two-thousand? "Oh yeah, I totally understand that. But... come on." He grinned at Richie and lowered his voice to a stage whisper. "Just between us, how old are you really?"
After another glance at Bobby for an OK, Richie shrugged his shoulders. "I'm thirty-seven."
Sam's jaw nearly hit the floor. "Hundred?"
"No!" Richie laughed again. "Dude, I'm thirty-seven. I was born in 1974."
Dean quickly did the math. "That's only five years older than me."
"What? You think we're all older than dirt?" Bobby scowled at the boys. "Trust me; there are Immortals and potential Immortals even younger than Richie out there."
Sam studied the man for a moment. "You must not have been very old when you... you know..."
"I died?" Richie asked. At Sam's nod he pursed his lips and looked down. "Yeah. I was just a couple of months past my nineteenth birthday."
"What happened?"
"Stupid junkie," Richie muttered. He took a deep breath and faced both brothers. "It was a mugging. Guy wasn't happy with just my wallet, watch and the keys to the car, so he shot me twice in the chest."
"Damn." Dean shook his head, thinking about what it must have been like for a young kid like Richie to be killed like that. And then to come back? "How soon after that did Bobby find you?"
"Find me?" Richie frowned in confusion. "I didn't meet Bobby until '97 when Mac called him about Ahriman."
Now it was Sam and Dean's turn to be confused. "I thought Bobby said you were his student?" Sam asked.
"For hunting," he clarified. "Mac was my teacher for the Immortal stuff, but everything I know about the hunting life I owe to Bobby."
"Hey, don't sell yourself short." Bobby grinned proudly at the red head. "You were the one who found that locater spell back when we were tryin' to break Dean free of his demon deal."
Sam blinked in surprise. "The one you used to pinpoint Lilith's location?"
"Yup. And without him we might never have put the Witnesses to rest."
At Sam and Dean's shocked expressions Richie just shrugged. "I found the spell back when we were facing Ahriman. We weren't sure right away how to fight him or what exactly he could do and the description of the 'Rising of the Witnesses' kinda fit with what we were experiencing."
"It did?"
Richie nodded, then went on to explain. "Mac was being haunted by people whose deaths he was connected to. Kronos and Horton he killed himself, Allison was killed by the demon after she tried to help Mac. Then... there was Tessa."
"Tessa?" Sam asked softly. "Who was she?"
Richie swallowed hard, the pain of the memory evident on his face even after many years. "She was Mac's fiancée. She and I were killed in the same mugging. Only difference was, I woke up. She didn't. Mac was still holding her body in his arms when I came to."
An awkward silence filled the room, no one really sure what to say after that. "So, you knew MacLeod before you became Immortal?" Dean asked, hoping to steer the conversation to a more comfortable topic.
Richie smiled slightly. "He and Tess were the best foster parents I ever had."
For a moment Dean thought he'd heard wrong. "Wait, MacLeod's your father?"
"Well, no," Richie quickly corrected himself. "Not exactly. And Tess wasn't anywhere near old enough to be my mom." He paused in thought for a moment. "Well, maybe if she'd been a teen mother. But it's just that... I met Mac and Tessa a month before I aged out of foster care. I wasn't going to have any place to live, I didn't have a job and they sort of... took me in. You know, gave me a place to stay, fed me, even let me work in their antiques store. But more than that they made me feel like I belonged there. It was the closest thing to a real family I ever had."
"A lot of us sorta look at it as our sacred duty." Bobby pulled up two folding chairs for Sam and Dean before perching on the arm of an old sofa that had clearly seen better days. "When we find someone who's destined to become Immortal one day we tend to watch over them, guide them if possible to make the right choices and do well in life. Then once they die the first time we take them on as students and teach them what they need to know. The good teachers not only teach about the rules of the Game and how to fight to stay alive, but also to actually live a better life."
"Mac taught me about philosophy, history, art..." Richie rolled his eyes and chuckled lightly. "He tried to get me to appreciate opera but... I don't know. It's been almost two decades and I still don't get it."
Dean didn't even need to think about it. "I wouldn't get it in two centuries!"
Laughter rippled through the group. "Yeah, I hear ya there," Bobby said, agreeing with Dean. "He might have some questionable taste in music, but Mac's real good at reading people and finding out where their strengths are. He's the one who discovered I had a natural ear for languages. We settled in San Francisco in 1886 not too far from Chinatown. Mac's fluent in Chinese," he explained, "And when he noticed I was picking it up quickly he arranged for me to take lessons. From there it went onto Italian, then Spanish, French, German-"
"Wow." Dean whistled in amazement. "So we have Mac to thank for you being a walking Babel Fish?"
"Among other things," Bobby admitted.
"For me," Richie said slowly, "It was hunting. When Mac first called Bobby in I didn't know what to expect. I guess I was picturing him looking creepy. You know, dressed all in black with a bunch of rings on every finger and mystical amulets hanging from his neck." The group laughed, imagining Bobby as a Goth nightmare. "So when he showed up looking like just a regular guy I was surprised. Then he let me look through his journal, answered my questions... even taught me a few things like the signs of demonic activity and how to make holy water. Mac saw how taken I was with everything and... he encouraged me to go back to the States with Bobby to study with him."
He walked over to an ice chest sitting in the corner and pulled out four beers, passing them out before continuing. "When I first became Immortal I kept feeling like there was something important I was supposed to do. I mean, I'd been given this amazing gift; there had to be a reason for it." Richie laughed softly and shook his head. "I know no sane person would ever choose hunting if they had an alternative, but... I just felt like this was it. This was what I was supposed to do with my life."
Silence once again descended, and Dean looked at Richie with a new respect. Almost every hunter he knew had the life thrust upon them: either experiencing firsthand the horrors of the supernatural world or being raised in a hunting family. But Richie could have done anything with his life and he chose this.
"So Mac does this a lot? Watch over potential Immortals?" Sam asked. His voice was slightly hoarse, and Dean knew it was because he was as affected by Richie's confession as he was.
Richie nodded and began ticking off examples on his fingers. "Mac took me in, arranged for Michelle Webster's adoption, sponsored Claudia Jardine's education-"
Dean was beginning to think his jaw would never be the same after dropping so many times in the past two days. "The classical concert pianist?"
Sam stared at his brother in amazement. "You... you know who Claudia Jardine is?"
Dean ducked his head slightly and swallowed, knowing he'd been caught. "Crappy TV in the motel room only got two channels. It was either her concert from Paris or this stupid sci-fi movie about Stonehenge," he insisted, then gave his brother a wide grin. "Besides, she was seriously hot."
"And she'll stay 'hot' for the next several centuries if she can keep her head," Bobby added. "There are a few people I'm keepin' my eye on too, just in case. Two of them... I'd lay odds they're gonna join the club within the next five years. Though," he gave a disgruntled snort and shook his head, "one of them... I'm praying to God, or whoever the hell will listen, doesn't get activated. Because I do not want to have to deal with his crap for centuries!"
"Anybody I know?" Dean asked. He mentally went through everyone he and Bobby were mutually acquainted with, but couldn't imagine any of them being an Immortal. Probably one of those things only another Immortal would notice, he mused.
"Sorry, kid." Bobby shook his head. "It's not exactly a rule, but we generally don't tell someone ahead of time what they are. That means I haven't told them, and if I haven't told them I'm sure as hell not tellin' you."
"Well, whatever." Even though the curiosity was killing him Dean knew better than to pursue the subject. "Anyway, MacLeod sounds like a really decent guy. Watching over all those people and taking Richie in like he did."
"Yeah," Richie agreed. "Especially when you consider I only met him 'cause I tried to rob his store."
Sam and Dean openly gaped at him. "What?" they asked in unison.
Richie shrugged and gave an unapologetic smile. "Hey, it's a living."
He then explained to the wide-eyed brothers about his first encounter with a sword wielding MacLeod and told them about the arrival of the other Immortals Slan Quince and the elder Highlander, Connor MacLeod. When Richie described the fight on the bridge and ensuing Quickening both Winchesters froze in horror.
"Is... is that what it's always like?" Dean hadn't really understood what Bobby meant when he talked about taking another Immortal's Quickening at the time, but now, hearing about it in detail like that made his blood turn cold. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed Sam was staring at Bobby, a strange look on his face and Bobby was giving him and equally odd look in return.
"Pretty much, yeah." Richie combed a hand through his hair, deep in thought. "As freaky as it was to see, nothing could compare to what it was like the first time I was on the receiving end. Having this blast of energy tear through you and all these strange images and memories from the other guy flood into your mind, it was just... Sam? Are you OK?"
Dean turned toward his brother and saw that Sam was now white as a sheet and shaking slightly, but what worried him most of all was that Sam was digging his thumb into the scar on his right palm so hard Dean was surprised he hadn't pushed through to the other side already. "Sammy? Talk to me man, what's goin' on?"
"I'm fine," was his whispered reply.
"The hell you are. I can tell when somethin's wrong-"
"I need some air!" Sam bolted from the room, one hand clasped over his mouth, the other clutching his stomach. Dean began to follow, but stopped when he felt a hand on his shoulder.
"I got this," Bobby said pushing past him. When Dean began to protest he shook his head and insisted. "I got a feeling I know what this is about. Just... let me handle it."
He watched as Bobby took off after his younger brother, wondering what it was Bobby knew that he didn't. Whatever it was, Dean was sure he wouldn't like it.
Soul Man
oooOOOooo
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------A/N: Song lyrics are from "Teacher, Teacher" by 38 Special.
While Methos and Alexa never officially married, in the "Postcards from Alexa: Holy Ground" chapter from the Highlander anthology, An Evening at Joe's the two of them recite marriage vows to each other while spending the night under the stars at the Grand Canyon, and Methos later heartbreakingly demands his rights as her husband when she's dying in the hospital in Geneva. (Find the book if you can. The eight Methos/Alexa chapters alone are worth the purchase price.)