New chapter!
Fandoms: Highlander/Heroes
Story: The Sounding of a Trumpet
Chapter title: The Pale Horse
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Adam, Methos, Amanda
Pairing: None yet, eventually Adam/Methos.
Disclaimer: I do neither own Highlander the Series nor Heroes. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Note: In case your forgot all about it, the prologue is here.
Chapter one: The pale horse
It was already dark when Adam was finally settled and insisted on inviting him to an exclusive and horribly expensive restaurant for dinner. He was now clad in modern-cut designer clothes; a crisp white shirt and dark blue suit that fit him perfectly. Methos could not think of any reason to reject him; he was in Japan as Mathew Jameson and not Adam Pierson and Mathew lived in luxury after all. He found that Adam Monroe was a great conversationalist with a wide range of topics and a huge repertoire of anecdotes. Already, he caught himself wondering if Adam’s fatalist opinions of mankind had only been due to his trials. Weeks in a coffin could do that to a man. With a shudder Methos remembered what harm years could do. All in all, Methos enjoyed the evening, especially since they served decent imported beer.
“I missed Japan,” said Adam, as they walked out of the restaurant. He had a satisfied smile on his face and he walked with the self-assurance of a man who was content with the world.
“When have you been here the last time?”
“A long time ago. They hadn’t had cars yet,” Adam replied.
“It’s a beautiful night,” said Methos. “Let’s walk back to the hotel.”
They had got Adam a room on the ground floor, which was fine by Methos. He had chosen this hotel because it was moderately remote, if one could speak of such a thing in Tokyo. In any way, he felt safer knowing that no other immortal slept on the same floor as he did.
Methos came to realise how late it was when he noticed how empty the streets were. They just stepped on a little square as he felt an immortal buzz. Immediately, he stopped in his tracks and looked around.
Adam was aware of the change in Methos’ behaviour at once. “What is it?” he asked in a low voice. Methos did not answer and proceeded to scan the environment for the immortal. The square was sparsely lit and it was hard to make out anything. His eyes were busy searching for escape routes.
A woman appeared from behind a corner. She moved quietly but, at least, did not have a sword in her hand.
“I never expected to see you again,” she said in Japanese and Methos realised that she was not even looking at him.
“It’s been a long time,” replied Adam, not in the least surprised. Methos watched the woman carefully as she approached. She was slim and petite but she held herself erect and her gait was determined.
“I remember the last time we met very well. I remember your betrayal and I have forgiven you,” the stranger went on.
Adam let out a humourless laugh. “I remember your betrayal as well.” No mention of forgiveness. Interesting, thought Methos. She stood in the shadows and he could not see her face but he saw her bowing her head in acknowledgement.
“Hiro would be so pleased to know that you’re still alive.” There was a definite edge to Adam’s voice now.
“So this is his time? This is when he lives?” she asked. “I would be in your debt if you let me know where I can find him.”
“You’re already in my debt, Yaeko. Even if I knew where he was now I would not tell you,” Adam told her, bitterness evident in his voice. Methos looked at him in surprise. Adam’s face betrayed no emotions but he sounded as if only talking to this Yaeko upset him. Methos felt like an intruder and drew back, moving into the shadows of the square.
“So it is like this. After all this time,” Yaeko said plaintively.
“I loved you once but make no mistake. Your betrayal turned my love to ashes.”
Poetic, thought Methos wryly. They both sounded like an old Japanese epic.
“You had your revenge, Kensei,” said the woman, stepping closer. Kensei? Methos’ eyes widened in the dark.
Adam smirked. “And it felt good.”
“If I had known about immortals then I would have taken your head,” the woman replied hotly. Methos could see her better know. She had a pretty face but it was livid with anger. “I should take it now.” She drew her sword.
“My head?” Adam shied away from her blade.
“Yes, defend yourself!” Yaeko demanded. “I challenge you.”
“I must disappoint you but I no longer carry a sword. It’s not exactly customary anymore and your beloved Hiro stole mine a long time ago.”
“You did not deserve it in the first place,” she spat.
Adam grimaced. “There was a time when you thought differently. When I was your hero.” Yaeko raised her sword in reply.
“This has gone far enough,” Methos found himself saying. They both looked at him as if they had not been aware of his presence before. “Look, you did not feel his presence, you felt mine. I don’t want to fight you but I can’t let you take his head either. Not like this anyway. He has no sword and he doesn’t partake in the game.”
“Who are you?” the immortal asked. Methos noticed that she lowered her sword slightly.
“Mathew Jameson. I’m not looking for a challenge but he,” he pointed at Adam, “isn’t either. He is not one of us. Killing him would be murder.” When exactly did he start to sound like McLeod? This wasn’t even his business, for whatever was going on between them had started a long time ago. If Adam chose to make immortal enemies he had better deal with them himself, too.
“He is not?” Yaeko’s pretty face showed confusion but then it hardened again. “No matter. He may be without a weapon but he knows how to use a sword. You can lend him yours.”
“I do not part with my sword, lady,” Methos said determinedly.
“Yaeko, I have a proposition,” Adam piped up. “I give you my word that I will fight you if you insist upon it. But right now, I can’t. Fighting a swordless man isn’t exactly fair play, is it? Tomorrow, I’ll have a sword and I’ll meet you wherever you choose.”
“You give me your word?” Yaeko let out a nasty laugh. “Your word counts for nothing, as we both know.”
“And your conduct has always been impeccable,” Adam countered acidly. Yaeko’s eyes flashed with anger but she kept silent. A triumphant smile played around his mouth, as Adam shrugged. “People change. I’m not the man you knew.”
The woman seemed to think about it. “Tomorrow then,” she finally said and sheathed her sword. “I’ll await you here two hours after midnight.” Adam answered with a mock bow, which Yaeko chose to ignore. She nodded in Methos’ direction and turned away; within seconds, she had disappeared into the darkness.
***
“Well, this was interesting. You seem to collect enemies,” said Methos wryly.
Adam gave him a crooked smile. “Hardly. I didn’t know she was immortal. She wasn’t when I knew her. At least, she did not heal instantaneously,” he mused. “You do heal, don’t you?”
“Yes, we do. But we need to die a violent death first, else we live a mortal life and die a natural death.”
“That’s interesting,” Adam said and looked around uneasily.
“She’s gone,” Methos assured him. “I don’t feel her anymore.”
“Good. Let’s go back to the hotel. I need to pack and contact the airport. I have a plane to catch in the morning; any plane out of Japan.”
“You don’t intend to keep your word then,” Methos stated the obvious.
“God no. I’ll do nothing of that sort.” Adam waved his hand dismissively. “I told her the truth, you know. I’m not the man she knew.” Whether his old self would have killed her without a second thought or would not have made any promises in the first place was left open. Methos did not feel like judging people for what they had done a long time ago. Everyone who lived long enough had his own demons to fight.
They walked in silence for a while. Methos had to mull over a few things he had learned about his new acquaintance and Adam seemed lost in thought, too.
“She called you Kensei,” Methos couldn’t resist to mention when they arrived at the hotel.
“So she did.” Adam was apparently not willing to elaborate, so Methos dropped it and bade him goodnight.
Alone in his room, he took off his shoes, removed his tie and dropped on his bed. Finally alone!
It was all very strange. Since he had released Adam from his grave, his life had become too exciting by far. Adam was not only a new kind of immortal, he had also introduced Methos to the concept of humans with superhuman abilities, something Methos was more than keen to get to know more about. But Adam had not been completely honest with him and he had a powerful enemy: the company and whoever stood behind it. Methos was not yet sure how much of a threat this mysterious company was but he was certain that Adam himself was trouble. The woman Adam called Yaeko had confirmed this by recalling their joint past with a drawn sword. Methos should be happy about leaving Adam behind in the morning but he wasn’t because Adam was also very interesting. If his old acquaintance had been right in calling Adam Kensei and he was indeed that mythical hero...well, Methos was intrigued.
***
Adam looked after Mathew’s retreating form with a mixture of reluctant reverence and anger until the other man was out of sight. Over 350 years he had lived with the conviction that he was unique and as close to being God as humanly possible. The point, of course, was that he was invincible and immortal and thus, no longer human at all. It came down to a simple formula: humans died, he did not. Mathew had destroyed that notion with a cynical and indulgent smile that made Adam’s blood boil. But as angry as he was at being humoured instead of admired, he couldn’t help being fascinated by Mathew. 756 years was quite an achievement, especially when taking into account that these people were so keen on beheading each other. Why was the head the centre of their power as well? Did they have the same origins or was it coincidence? What made them tick and why did it take a violent death to set their powers free? Would he have aged and died if he had not been killed at least once?
Adam’s head spun as he opened the door to his room, which was small and furnished in a way that did not betray anything about the location of the hotel. It could have been a room in Germany as well as Canada. His last stay had been more traditional and he realised to his surprise that his words to Mathew had been true, he had missed Japan. He had not missed Yaeko though. Why were the two people who had humiliated and hurt him more than anyone else in almost four hundred years still alive? Adam fumed. Killing Hiro would be hard, since the little bastard could freeze time if he saw it coming. He could get back at him by killing Yaeko but his revenge would be hollow if Hiro didn’t know. Reuniting them was the last thing on his mind however. All in all, it was a tricky situation and the only company co-founder he could still count on was trapped in his own mind. What Adam needed was a new friend and this brought him back to Mathew.
In an unconventional way, Mathew was quite handsome. He had deep hazel eyes, a prominent nose, which gave him a Grecian profile, and he seemed constantly bemused. Adam knew little enough about him. He seemed clever but generally harmless. There was nothing bubbling under the surface he could exploit and use to his advantage. It had been ambition with Angela Petrelli and Linderman and an inferiority complex and suppressed anger with Parkman. Peter had been driven by guilt and fear of himself and it had been so easy to control him. If it hadn’t been for Hiro, he could have manipulated Nathan and Parkman Jr. as well. Damn him! Adam was sure that it would take a long time until he would be able to close his eyes without fear of opening them to utter darkness and absolute confinement, and he had to thank Hiro for that. Death was a merciful alternative to lifelong imprisonment in a coffin and he suspected that Hiro had known that as well. Killing his father had been satisfactory but killing Hiro would be like Christmas come early. He deserved it. Had it not been for Hiro, he would have remained a contented drunkard and most likely he would have aged and died. But no, Hiro had to teleport into the 17th century and his world, had to convince Adam that he was destined to be a hero and marry the swordsmith’s daughter. The trials of Takezō Kensei, his arse. Adam told himself that he was not obsessed with the thought of disposing of Hiro but it was undeniably on his mind.
It had been a long time since Adam had tried to manipulate someone older than himself but he wasn’t afraid of the challenge. Apart from his life, he had nothing to lose, though after all this time he was rather fond of it. Consequently, he had to stick close to Mathew, find a way to get on the same plane as he did, and somehow manage to persuade him that it was in his best interest to bring the company down. Adam took a deep breath and flopped onto the narrow bed opposite the window.
Nobody said that this was going to be easy.
***
“What I really love about London is the anonymity,” said Mathew and shouldered his bag. It had been a long flight and Adam had used the time to his advantage. Mathew might not invite him home - wherever that was, though definitely not London - but he would stay in touch and he was still very curious about the company. They had not talked about Yaeko again and had avoided certain other topics as well. Adam had made sure to keep the tone of their conversation light. Mathew had not shown any sign of suspicion and annoyance when they boarded the same plane, which Adam deemed as success. “So, where are you headed?” Mathew added and Adam saw that he was reluctant to get an answer in the direction of Adam not knowing what to do with himself.
“Oh, it’s been a while since I was in London, so I thought I’ll stay in town for a while,” Adam said casually.
Mathew smiled broadly and patted his back. “Good for you. I suppose this is goodbye then. We’ll stay in --” Mathew’s voice trailed off and he scanned the environment with the strangely focussed look he had had the night they had met Yaeko. They had arrived in the dark of the night and although the airport wasn’t deserted it was not overrun either. The people around them were mostly tired home comers, who did not look threatening at all.
A dark-haired woman was approaching them with a winning smile and outstretched arms. “Methos,” she called out in delight and threw her arms around Mathew’s neck. Adam noticed that he winced under her assault.
“Amanda,” Mathew said coldly and disentangled himself from her. “Discreet as usual.”
Amanda looked around, bewildered, and paled visibly as she detected Adam.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped and put some effort into looking it. “I didn’t know you had company.” She had a pretty but now rather contrite face. Her lips were painted ruby-red and she wore her hair in a bob that fell sleek and shiny over her cheeks and made her look younger than she probably was. That she was an immortal was almost certain, judging from Mathew’s reaction. Or should he say Methos? He suddenly noticed that the very man was eying him sharply, eyes narrowed and cold. Adam reacted quickly and shrugged.
“So I’m not the only one with more than one name,” he grinned. “Figured as much, to be honest.”
Mathew relaxed his shoulders, grabbed his bag, which had landed on the floor under Amanda’s embrace, and lost the threatening posture along the way.
The woman turned to Adam. “Ahem, I’m Amanda,” she said with a bright smile. She had recovered quickly.
“Adam.”
“Really? Now that’s...a very common name after all,” she sputtered. Mathew was ready to leave and his eyes bore down on Amanda in a fashion that did not bode well for her. He had clearly not forgiven her that she had let that name slip. Methos. Adam knew about the power a name could have. The name Takezō Kensei had been a burden, a curse even, because as Hiro had predicted, it had become legend. He had never heard of a Methos though. It sounded more like a made-up name, a word play on the Latin word mythus.
“I’m outa here,” Mathew said, turning to leave. “See you around.”
“Wait,” Amanda said. “When does your connecting flight go?”
“In the morning. Now stop pestering me, Amanda, I’m knackered.”
“I haven’t seen you in almost five years and double that time for Mac. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Do we have to have this conversation at the airport?” Mathew asked, annoyance written on his sharp features.
“I’m open to suggestions.” She smiled seductively.
“Well, I don’t want to inconvenience you two,” Adam said matter-of-factly. At least the woman gave him an abashed look. Mathew eyed him as if he was ready to take him up on the out he had given them but Adam had counted on Amanda and her quick tongue anyway.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I don’t even know how you came to know each other. We should have coffee. Or a beer. That always works and makes the old man here less grumpy,” she said cheerfully. Was she hinting at a real age difference between them or was it only a figure of speech? Adam was too curious to let the offer go.
“Coffee would be great,” he replied.
“Fine, fine,” Mathew gave in, exasperated.
***
Things did not go as planned. Ideally, Methos would have lain in a comfortable bed in the hotel room he had booked, soundly asleep and far away from trouble. Tomorrow he would leave Mathew Jameson behind and turn back into Adam Pierson, mild-mannered watcher. Instead, he was sitting in a too brightly lit restaurant of a well-known fast food chain because pubs in England closed all too early and no café was open yet. They did not serve beer and the coffee was only barely drinkable. Spiffing.
“Mathew,” Amanda began. For once she was behaving and made use of the name Adam had used twice for him in the cab.
“I’m all ears,” Methos said unexcitedly.
“I’ve missed you. We all have,” she went on unperturbed. “But I see that you’re in good-looking company.”
Adam grinned but kept silent. He was enjoying this, no doubt. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Amanda’s biggest weakness was her big mouth. It would only take him a few more hours to find out that she was enraptured with everything sparkly.
“We only just met,” Methos rumbled. “In fact, I dug him out of a tight situation.”
“Quite literally,” Adam chimed in. Amanda frowned when neither of them was about to elaborate.
“OK, you guys want to play that game, fine,” she said snippily. Methos shrugged and sipped on the brown fluid some would dare call coffee. “Mac was back from his latest search for himself six years ago. He’s been asking for you,” she reproached him in the same tone.
“And I’ve always been there if there was trouble,” Methos said.
“You’ve come to see Joe.” Amanda didn’t let go.
“Amanda, there are more urgent things on my mind than worrying about Mac’s feelings,” Methos snapped. “How would you feel about a different kind of immortal?”
Adam didn’t look too happy about this turn of event but he had never told him to keep it a secret either.
“What are you on about?” Amanda took the bait.
“Me actually.” Adam gave her a brief smile.
“Oh, come off it. You’re not one of us,” Amanda scoffed disbelievingly.
“That’s the crux of the matter. He isn’t one of us but nonetheless immortal.”
“I would be happy if this didn’t work a circuit all too quickly,” said Adam.
“Of course,” Amanda assured him - not to successfully from what Methos gathered. “But how?”
“Regeneration,” Adam answered curtly.
“Naturally, there is a catch,” Methos threw in darkly, meanwhile watching Adam curiously. He was obviously hesitant to tell Amanda too much. When Adam caught his eyes, he nodded encouragingly. It was not necessary to fill Amanda in but it wouldn’t hurt either. Above all, this was about power and setting the rules. If Adam wanted to be around him - and he was quite obviously keen on it - it was about time that he knew who called the shots.
Adam sighed and slumped back in his chair. “There is the Company.”
***
“So how did you meet him?” Amanda asked two hours later. It was four o’clock in the morning and all Methos really wanted was to go to sleep. After Amanda had heard everything about people with special powers and the Company Adam was willing to divulge - and it was considerably less than he had told him - Methos had called it a night and bade Adam goodbye. He had promised to stay in touch and surprisingly he meant it. Of course, Amanda wasn’t so easy to get rid of. She had thrown herself into the cab he had called and was adamant about accompanying him to his hotel.
“Dug him out. Can’t we discuss this later? My flight goes in six hours and I will even feign surprise when you tell me that you’re going to be on board too, promise.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Amanda muttered and sat down on the bed of his suite. He had told McLeod the truth, he would not stay in any hotel Adam Pierson could afford. This suite was paid for by Mathew Jameson.
“Am I wrong?” Methos arched an eyebrow. When she shook her head, he grinned cockily and went to unbutton his shirt.
“He’s charming, I give you that. But in case you haven’t noticed, he is a megalomaniac. If Mac knew who you’re socialising with --”
“I’d be sent to bed without dessert, yes,” Methos ended the sentence with a sardonic smile and pulled his shirt off.
“Or without your head,” Amanda snapped. She was obviously worried for him, which was a little touching in itself.
“Amanda, just how stupid do you think I am? Why would I help the Highlander killing off my brothers of old only to gang up with an amateur a few years after?”
Amanda gave him a shrewd look. “I never presumed to understand how you tick, Methos.”
He chuckled. “No, you didn’t.” He felt her eyes upon him, as he unzipped his trousers.
“But why?” she asked curiously.
“Why do you keep stealing?” he asked her in return and looked up in time to see her stiffen. “Amanda, MacLeod wouldn’t understand but you’ve lived long enough to know. Boredom and indifference kills us as sure as a blade. You keep breaking into museums because of the thrill - the plotting and planning, the fear of being caught, the feeling of success. We both know that you don’t care about the money, so why steal? You could have turned to mountaineering or motorsport, to gambling, politics or murder - anything that triggers the adrenaline we all crave every now and then.”
“Why does it matter?” Amanda asked, frowning.
“It matters. You do what you’re doing because it was part of your mortal life. You were a thief then, you’re a thief now. You’re doing what you’re good at.”
“Your point being?” She cocked her head, as he stepped toward the bed, only dressed in boxer shorts now.
Methos gave her a calculating smile. “The point being that I’m no different.”
Her eyes widened in understanding. “I see.”
“Smart girl. Now move it, I’m tired.” He yawned demonstratively and got into bed. She skidded over just enough to let him draw the blanket over himself.
“Methos,” she purred. The tone made him groan inwardly and he threw the woman on the foot of the bed an exasperated look. “Why haven’t we hooked up since the 1920s?”
“Because you were in a huff when I left you and then you decided to play with the Boy Scout, remember?”
She shrugged. “His idealism was refreshing after all your cynicism. And he isn’t as jaded as we both are.”
“Yet,” Methos grunted and turned away from her. “Be a darling and switch off the light.”
“Methos?”
“Why are you torturing me?”
“Promise me something,” Amanda said in that whiny tone she had when she wanted something badly.
“Depends,” Methos mumbled, not bothering to turn around or open his eyes.
“Be careful, OK?”
“It’s my middle name. Besides, I’m a big boy.”
“I know but...” she started again.
“No buts, Amanda,” he groaned, exasperated. She didn’t continue but he felt the blanket being lifted and her lean body snuggling up behind him before he drifted off to sleep.
***
Adam found a hotel eventually. It had taken him a while but he did not regret spending time with Mathew and Amanda. He had not found out how old she was or what role she was playing in Mathew’s life but he had had opportunity enough to exploit her quick tongue. He now knew that their kind was being watched by an organisation called the Watchers. Adam was sure that Mathew had not even noticed her slipping the name, probably because they were both so used to using it. Luckily, he had not only the time and the money to make the best of his newly acquired knowledge, he was also free. More importantly, he had determination and thirst for revenge. He slept not more than two hours before waking up drenched in sweat, his heart racing, fully expecting to open his eyes to total darkness.
After a shower and a good breakfast, he set off. Five hours later he returned with a brand new notebook, a mobile phone, new clothes, several fake IDs and a semi-automatic 9mm. He preferred being prepared for all eventualities.
The good thing about being immortal was that one always had enough time. Adam was a patient man when it came to revenge. He had waited four hundred years to get back at Hiro, he could wait a little longer to destroy him and the world he lived in. One had to have one’s priorities right. He wasn’t a novice to secret organisations. The more people there were involved, the bigger the risk of a leak. It was time to find out just how big of an organisation the Watchers were. There might even be something about them on the internet. What a marvellous invention, the World Wide Web! He had missed so much while he was being imprisoned by the company. Just to think that Hiro would have let him rot forever and ever...very humane of a man who had wanted to teach him how to be a hero.
A Google search for immortal and watcher gave him over 160 pages of results because people were apparently so obsessed with the concept that there were several TV series and books dealing with it. Adam ordered some coffee and got to work. Sixteen hours later, he found the leak. Apparently, the Watchers were one of those secret organisations one could leave without being separated from one’s body. And not all former members were clever and upright enough to keep their secret. Some were even stupid enough to mention their membership on their blog. A few phone calls and several clicks later he had an address and a name. Monica Gilbert did not know it yet but she had forfeited her life the minute she made that entry in 2004.
***
Blindfolded as she was, she sat in total darkness and the only sound she heard was her own rapid breathing.
“Who are you? Where am I?” she asked her captor. Did he want money? Oh my God, did he mean to rape her? Oh please, let this not be happening, please, please...
“You’re safe. At least for the moment,” a man said. His voice was so close that she felt his breath against her cheek. She winced and her heart hammered painfully against her ribcage.
“Why am I here?” she asked, her voice high-pitched, almost hysterical with fear. Her hands were tied behind the chair she was sitting, trembling on.
“Because you know something I need to know.” Her captor’s voice was calm. “I’d appreciate your cooperation and--”
“Whatever it is...do you want money? I’ll give you everything I have, just please, please let me go! Please let me--” His fist ended her pleas prematurely and her head flew to the side. She whimpered.
“Now, interrupting me when I’m talking, that’s rude,” he went on, unperturbed by her whimpers and sobs. “And don’t be stupid. Why would I capture you if I wanted money? It’s not as if you had any. But then, if you weren’t so stupid we would not be here in the first place, right? Who is Methos?”
Her mouth filled with blood and stinging from the blow, she almost laughed. The Watchers again. She had been warned, there was no escape.
“Methos? The Watchers? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tried weakly.
“Of course. Now, Monica, let me explain to you how it will be. You can either be a good girl and cooperate or we can do this the hard way. I can assure you that the hard way will not be pretty. We both know that nobody will come looking for you. You left the Watchers four years ago and you just broke up with your boyfriend. Your parents are dead. There is no one.” She heard the glee in his voice and shivered.
“Please, I never hurt any of your kind. I swear!”
Her captor laughed. “My kind? I wouldn’t think so. I will only ask one more time. Who is Methos?”
She swallowed at the sound of metal on metal. Oh good God, he sharpened a knife! “The Watchers don’t know much about him. He is a myth.”
“A myth? What kind of myth?” her captor asked eagerly.
“The oldest living immortal. The chronicles say that he is nearly five thousand years old. I never believed it,” she babbled. Her cheeks were wet with tears. If only she could see! At least the scraping sound had ceased. “Nobody knows where he is or if he is still alive. It’s only a legend. A myth.”
“Thank you, Monica,” the cultivated voice sounded closer again. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“You’ll let me go now?” she asked, desperate hope in her voice.
“Yes, of course. I’m a man of my word,” he replied.
And then the knife was rammed into her.
tbc
***
Comments are immortal!
***
Story: The Sounding of a Trumpet
Chapter title: The Pale Horse
Rating: PG-13
Characters: Adam, Methos, Amanda
Pairing: None yet, eventually Adam/Methos.
Disclaimer: I do neither own Highlander the Series nor Heroes. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Note: In case your forgot all about it, the prologue is here.
Chapter one: The pale horse
It was already dark when Adam was finally settled and insisted on inviting him to an exclusive and horribly expensive restaurant for dinner. He was now clad in modern-cut designer clothes; a crisp white shirt and dark blue suit that fit him perfectly. Methos could not think of any reason to reject him; he was in Japan as Mathew Jameson and not Adam Pierson and Mathew lived in luxury after all. He found that Adam Monroe was a great conversationalist with a wide range of topics and a huge repertoire of anecdotes. Already, he caught himself wondering if Adam’s fatalist opinions of mankind had only been due to his trials. Weeks in a coffin could do that to a man. With a shudder Methos remembered what harm years could do. All in all, Methos enjoyed the evening, especially since they served decent imported beer.
“I missed Japan,” said Adam, as they walked out of the restaurant. He had a satisfied smile on his face and he walked with the self-assurance of a man who was content with the world.
“When have you been here the last time?”
“A long time ago. They hadn’t had cars yet,” Adam replied.
“It’s a beautiful night,” said Methos. “Let’s walk back to the hotel.”
They had got Adam a room on the ground floor, which was fine by Methos. He had chosen this hotel because it was moderately remote, if one could speak of such a thing in Tokyo. In any way, he felt safer knowing that no other immortal slept on the same floor as he did.
Methos came to realise how late it was when he noticed how empty the streets were. They just stepped on a little square as he felt an immortal buzz. Immediately, he stopped in his tracks and looked around.
Adam was aware of the change in Methos’ behaviour at once. “What is it?” he asked in a low voice. Methos did not answer and proceeded to scan the environment for the immortal. The square was sparsely lit and it was hard to make out anything. His eyes were busy searching for escape routes.
A woman appeared from behind a corner. She moved quietly but, at least, did not have a sword in her hand.
“I never expected to see you again,” she said in Japanese and Methos realised that she was not even looking at him.
“It’s been a long time,” replied Adam, not in the least surprised. Methos watched the woman carefully as she approached. She was slim and petite but she held herself erect and her gait was determined.
“I remember the last time we met very well. I remember your betrayal and I have forgiven you,” the stranger went on.
Adam let out a humourless laugh. “I remember your betrayal as well.” No mention of forgiveness. Interesting, thought Methos. She stood in the shadows and he could not see her face but he saw her bowing her head in acknowledgement.
“Hiro would be so pleased to know that you’re still alive.” There was a definite edge to Adam’s voice now.
“So this is his time? This is when he lives?” she asked. “I would be in your debt if you let me know where I can find him.”
“You’re already in my debt, Yaeko. Even if I knew where he was now I would not tell you,” Adam told her, bitterness evident in his voice. Methos looked at him in surprise. Adam’s face betrayed no emotions but he sounded as if only talking to this Yaeko upset him. Methos felt like an intruder and drew back, moving into the shadows of the square.
“So it is like this. After all this time,” Yaeko said plaintively.
“I loved you once but make no mistake. Your betrayal turned my love to ashes.”
Poetic, thought Methos wryly. They both sounded like an old Japanese epic.
“You had your revenge, Kensei,” said the woman, stepping closer. Kensei? Methos’ eyes widened in the dark.
Adam smirked. “And it felt good.”
“If I had known about immortals then I would have taken your head,” the woman replied hotly. Methos could see her better know. She had a pretty face but it was livid with anger. “I should take it now.” She drew her sword.
“My head?” Adam shied away from her blade.
“Yes, defend yourself!” Yaeko demanded. “I challenge you.”
“I must disappoint you but I no longer carry a sword. It’s not exactly customary anymore and your beloved Hiro stole mine a long time ago.”
“You did not deserve it in the first place,” she spat.
Adam grimaced. “There was a time when you thought differently. When I was your hero.” Yaeko raised her sword in reply.
“This has gone far enough,” Methos found himself saying. They both looked at him as if they had not been aware of his presence before. “Look, you did not feel his presence, you felt mine. I don’t want to fight you but I can’t let you take his head either. Not like this anyway. He has no sword and he doesn’t partake in the game.”
“Who are you?” the immortal asked. Methos noticed that she lowered her sword slightly.
“Mathew Jameson. I’m not looking for a challenge but he,” he pointed at Adam, “isn’t either. He is not one of us. Killing him would be murder.” When exactly did he start to sound like McLeod? This wasn’t even his business, for whatever was going on between them had started a long time ago. If Adam chose to make immortal enemies he had better deal with them himself, too.
“He is not?” Yaeko’s pretty face showed confusion but then it hardened again. “No matter. He may be without a weapon but he knows how to use a sword. You can lend him yours.”
“I do not part with my sword, lady,” Methos said determinedly.
“Yaeko, I have a proposition,” Adam piped up. “I give you my word that I will fight you if you insist upon it. But right now, I can’t. Fighting a swordless man isn’t exactly fair play, is it? Tomorrow, I’ll have a sword and I’ll meet you wherever you choose.”
“You give me your word?” Yaeko let out a nasty laugh. “Your word counts for nothing, as we both know.”
“And your conduct has always been impeccable,” Adam countered acidly. Yaeko’s eyes flashed with anger but she kept silent. A triumphant smile played around his mouth, as Adam shrugged. “People change. I’m not the man you knew.”
The woman seemed to think about it. “Tomorrow then,” she finally said and sheathed her sword. “I’ll await you here two hours after midnight.” Adam answered with a mock bow, which Yaeko chose to ignore. She nodded in Methos’ direction and turned away; within seconds, she had disappeared into the darkness.
***
“Well, this was interesting. You seem to collect enemies,” said Methos wryly.
Adam gave him a crooked smile. “Hardly. I didn’t know she was immortal. She wasn’t when I knew her. At least, she did not heal instantaneously,” he mused. “You do heal, don’t you?”
“Yes, we do. But we need to die a violent death first, else we live a mortal life and die a natural death.”
“That’s interesting,” Adam said and looked around uneasily.
“She’s gone,” Methos assured him. “I don’t feel her anymore.”
“Good. Let’s go back to the hotel. I need to pack and contact the airport. I have a plane to catch in the morning; any plane out of Japan.”
“You don’t intend to keep your word then,” Methos stated the obvious.
“God no. I’ll do nothing of that sort.” Adam waved his hand dismissively. “I told her the truth, you know. I’m not the man she knew.” Whether his old self would have killed her without a second thought or would not have made any promises in the first place was left open. Methos did not feel like judging people for what they had done a long time ago. Everyone who lived long enough had his own demons to fight.
They walked in silence for a while. Methos had to mull over a few things he had learned about his new acquaintance and Adam seemed lost in thought, too.
“She called you Kensei,” Methos couldn’t resist to mention when they arrived at the hotel.
“So she did.” Adam was apparently not willing to elaborate, so Methos dropped it and bade him goodnight.
Alone in his room, he took off his shoes, removed his tie and dropped on his bed. Finally alone!
It was all very strange. Since he had released Adam from his grave, his life had become too exciting by far. Adam was not only a new kind of immortal, he had also introduced Methos to the concept of humans with superhuman abilities, something Methos was more than keen to get to know more about. But Adam had not been completely honest with him and he had a powerful enemy: the company and whoever stood behind it. Methos was not yet sure how much of a threat this mysterious company was but he was certain that Adam himself was trouble. The woman Adam called Yaeko had confirmed this by recalling their joint past with a drawn sword. Methos should be happy about leaving Adam behind in the morning but he wasn’t because Adam was also very interesting. If his old acquaintance had been right in calling Adam Kensei and he was indeed that mythical hero...well, Methos was intrigued.
***
Adam looked after Mathew’s retreating form with a mixture of reluctant reverence and anger until the other man was out of sight. Over 350 years he had lived with the conviction that he was unique and as close to being God as humanly possible. The point, of course, was that he was invincible and immortal and thus, no longer human at all. It came down to a simple formula: humans died, he did not. Mathew had destroyed that notion with a cynical and indulgent smile that made Adam’s blood boil. But as angry as he was at being humoured instead of admired, he couldn’t help being fascinated by Mathew. 756 years was quite an achievement, especially when taking into account that these people were so keen on beheading each other. Why was the head the centre of their power as well? Did they have the same origins or was it coincidence? What made them tick and why did it take a violent death to set their powers free? Would he have aged and died if he had not been killed at least once?
Adam’s head spun as he opened the door to his room, which was small and furnished in a way that did not betray anything about the location of the hotel. It could have been a room in Germany as well as Canada. His last stay had been more traditional and he realised to his surprise that his words to Mathew had been true, he had missed Japan. He had not missed Yaeko though. Why were the two people who had humiliated and hurt him more than anyone else in almost four hundred years still alive? Adam fumed. Killing Hiro would be hard, since the little bastard could freeze time if he saw it coming. He could get back at him by killing Yaeko but his revenge would be hollow if Hiro didn’t know. Reuniting them was the last thing on his mind however. All in all, it was a tricky situation and the only company co-founder he could still count on was trapped in his own mind. What Adam needed was a new friend and this brought him back to Mathew.
In an unconventional way, Mathew was quite handsome. He had deep hazel eyes, a prominent nose, which gave him a Grecian profile, and he seemed constantly bemused. Adam knew little enough about him. He seemed clever but generally harmless. There was nothing bubbling under the surface he could exploit and use to his advantage. It had been ambition with Angela Petrelli and Linderman and an inferiority complex and suppressed anger with Parkman. Peter had been driven by guilt and fear of himself and it had been so easy to control him. If it hadn’t been for Hiro, he could have manipulated Nathan and Parkman Jr. as well. Damn him! Adam was sure that it would take a long time until he would be able to close his eyes without fear of opening them to utter darkness and absolute confinement, and he had to thank Hiro for that. Death was a merciful alternative to lifelong imprisonment in a coffin and he suspected that Hiro had known that as well. Killing his father had been satisfactory but killing Hiro would be like Christmas come early. He deserved it. Had it not been for Hiro, he would have remained a contented drunkard and most likely he would have aged and died. But no, Hiro had to teleport into the 17th century and his world, had to convince Adam that he was destined to be a hero and marry the swordsmith’s daughter. The trials of Takezō Kensei, his arse. Adam told himself that he was not obsessed with the thought of disposing of Hiro but it was undeniably on his mind.
It had been a long time since Adam had tried to manipulate someone older than himself but he wasn’t afraid of the challenge. Apart from his life, he had nothing to lose, though after all this time he was rather fond of it. Consequently, he had to stick close to Mathew, find a way to get on the same plane as he did, and somehow manage to persuade him that it was in his best interest to bring the company down. Adam took a deep breath and flopped onto the narrow bed opposite the window.
Nobody said that this was going to be easy.
***
“What I really love about London is the anonymity,” said Mathew and shouldered his bag. It had been a long flight and Adam had used the time to his advantage. Mathew might not invite him home - wherever that was, though definitely not London - but he would stay in touch and he was still very curious about the company. They had not talked about Yaeko again and had avoided certain other topics as well. Adam had made sure to keep the tone of their conversation light. Mathew had not shown any sign of suspicion and annoyance when they boarded the same plane, which Adam deemed as success. “So, where are you headed?” Mathew added and Adam saw that he was reluctant to get an answer in the direction of Adam not knowing what to do with himself.
“Oh, it’s been a while since I was in London, so I thought I’ll stay in town for a while,” Adam said casually.
Mathew smiled broadly and patted his back. “Good for you. I suppose this is goodbye then. We’ll stay in --” Mathew’s voice trailed off and he scanned the environment with the strangely focussed look he had had the night they had met Yaeko. They had arrived in the dark of the night and although the airport wasn’t deserted it was not overrun either. The people around them were mostly tired home comers, who did not look threatening at all.
A dark-haired woman was approaching them with a winning smile and outstretched arms. “Methos,” she called out in delight and threw her arms around Mathew’s neck. Adam noticed that he winced under her assault.
“Amanda,” Mathew said coldly and disentangled himself from her. “Discreet as usual.”
Amanda looked around, bewildered, and paled visibly as she detected Adam.
“I’m so sorry,” she gasped and put some effort into looking it. “I didn’t know you had company.” She had a pretty but now rather contrite face. Her lips were painted ruby-red and she wore her hair in a bob that fell sleek and shiny over her cheeks and made her look younger than she probably was. That she was an immortal was almost certain, judging from Mathew’s reaction. Or should he say Methos? He suddenly noticed that the very man was eying him sharply, eyes narrowed and cold. Adam reacted quickly and shrugged.
“So I’m not the only one with more than one name,” he grinned. “Figured as much, to be honest.”
Mathew relaxed his shoulders, grabbed his bag, which had landed on the floor under Amanda’s embrace, and lost the threatening posture along the way.
The woman turned to Adam. “Ahem, I’m Amanda,” she said with a bright smile. She had recovered quickly.
“Adam.”
“Really? Now that’s...a very common name after all,” she sputtered. Mathew was ready to leave and his eyes bore down on Amanda in a fashion that did not bode well for her. He had clearly not forgiven her that she had let that name slip. Methos. Adam knew about the power a name could have. The name Takezō Kensei had been a burden, a curse even, because as Hiro had predicted, it had become legend. He had never heard of a Methos though. It sounded more like a made-up name, a word play on the Latin word mythus.
“I’m outa here,” Mathew said, turning to leave. “See you around.”
“Wait,” Amanda said. “When does your connecting flight go?”
“In the morning. Now stop pestering me, Amanda, I’m knackered.”
“I haven’t seen you in almost five years and double that time for Mac. I’ve been looking for you.”
“Do we have to have this conversation at the airport?” Mathew asked, annoyance written on his sharp features.
“I’m open to suggestions.” She smiled seductively.
“Well, I don’t want to inconvenience you two,” Adam said matter-of-factly. At least the woman gave him an abashed look. Mathew eyed him as if he was ready to take him up on the out he had given them but Adam had counted on Amanda and her quick tongue anyway.
“I’m sorry, I really am. I don’t even know how you came to know each other. We should have coffee. Or a beer. That always works and makes the old man here less grumpy,” she said cheerfully. Was she hinting at a real age difference between them or was it only a figure of speech? Adam was too curious to let the offer go.
“Coffee would be great,” he replied.
“Fine, fine,” Mathew gave in, exasperated.
***
Things did not go as planned. Ideally, Methos would have lain in a comfortable bed in the hotel room he had booked, soundly asleep and far away from trouble. Tomorrow he would leave Mathew Jameson behind and turn back into Adam Pierson, mild-mannered watcher. Instead, he was sitting in a too brightly lit restaurant of a well-known fast food chain because pubs in England closed all too early and no café was open yet. They did not serve beer and the coffee was only barely drinkable. Spiffing.
“Mathew,” Amanda began. For once she was behaving and made use of the name Adam had used twice for him in the cab.
“I’m all ears,” Methos said unexcitedly.
“I’ve missed you. We all have,” she went on unperturbed. “But I see that you’re in good-looking company.”
Adam grinned but kept silent. He was enjoying this, no doubt. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that Amanda’s biggest weakness was her big mouth. It would only take him a few more hours to find out that she was enraptured with everything sparkly.
“We only just met,” Methos rumbled. “In fact, I dug him out of a tight situation.”
“Quite literally,” Adam chimed in. Amanda frowned when neither of them was about to elaborate.
“OK, you guys want to play that game, fine,” she said snippily. Methos shrugged and sipped on the brown fluid some would dare call coffee. “Mac was back from his latest search for himself six years ago. He’s been asking for you,” she reproached him in the same tone.
“And I’ve always been there if there was trouble,” Methos said.
“You’ve come to see Joe.” Amanda didn’t let go.
“Amanda, there are more urgent things on my mind than worrying about Mac’s feelings,” Methos snapped. “How would you feel about a different kind of immortal?”
Adam didn’t look too happy about this turn of event but he had never told him to keep it a secret either.
“What are you on about?” Amanda took the bait.
“Me actually.” Adam gave her a brief smile.
“Oh, come off it. You’re not one of us,” Amanda scoffed disbelievingly.
“That’s the crux of the matter. He isn’t one of us but nonetheless immortal.”
“I would be happy if this didn’t work a circuit all too quickly,” said Adam.
“Of course,” Amanda assured him - not to successfully from what Methos gathered. “But how?”
“Regeneration,” Adam answered curtly.
“Naturally, there is a catch,” Methos threw in darkly, meanwhile watching Adam curiously. He was obviously hesitant to tell Amanda too much. When Adam caught his eyes, he nodded encouragingly. It was not necessary to fill Amanda in but it wouldn’t hurt either. Above all, this was about power and setting the rules. If Adam wanted to be around him - and he was quite obviously keen on it - it was about time that he knew who called the shots.
Adam sighed and slumped back in his chair. “There is the Company.”
***
“So how did you meet him?” Amanda asked two hours later. It was four o’clock in the morning and all Methos really wanted was to go to sleep. After Amanda had heard everything about people with special powers and the Company Adam was willing to divulge - and it was considerably less than he had told him - Methos had called it a night and bade Adam goodbye. He had promised to stay in touch and surprisingly he meant it. Of course, Amanda wasn’t so easy to get rid of. She had thrown herself into the cab he had called and was adamant about accompanying him to his hotel.
“Dug him out. Can’t we discuss this later? My flight goes in six hours and I will even feign surprise when you tell me that you’re going to be on board too, promise.”
“You’re incorrigible,” Amanda muttered and sat down on the bed of his suite. He had told McLeod the truth, he would not stay in any hotel Adam Pierson could afford. This suite was paid for by Mathew Jameson.
“Am I wrong?” Methos arched an eyebrow. When she shook her head, he grinned cockily and went to unbutton his shirt.
“He’s charming, I give you that. But in case you haven’t noticed, he is a megalomaniac. If Mac knew who you’re socialising with --”
“I’d be sent to bed without dessert, yes,” Methos ended the sentence with a sardonic smile and pulled his shirt off.
“Or without your head,” Amanda snapped. She was obviously worried for him, which was a little touching in itself.
“Amanda, just how stupid do you think I am? Why would I help the Highlander killing off my brothers of old only to gang up with an amateur a few years after?”
Amanda gave him a shrewd look. “I never presumed to understand how you tick, Methos.”
He chuckled. “No, you didn’t.” He felt her eyes upon him, as he unzipped his trousers.
“But why?” she asked curiously.
“Why do you keep stealing?” he asked her in return and looked up in time to see her stiffen. “Amanda, MacLeod wouldn’t understand but you’ve lived long enough to know. Boredom and indifference kills us as sure as a blade. You keep breaking into museums because of the thrill - the plotting and planning, the fear of being caught, the feeling of success. We both know that you don’t care about the money, so why steal? You could have turned to mountaineering or motorsport, to gambling, politics or murder - anything that triggers the adrenaline we all crave every now and then.”
“Why does it matter?” Amanda asked, frowning.
“It matters. You do what you’re doing because it was part of your mortal life. You were a thief then, you’re a thief now. You’re doing what you’re good at.”
“Your point being?” She cocked her head, as he stepped toward the bed, only dressed in boxer shorts now.
Methos gave her a calculating smile. “The point being that I’m no different.”
Her eyes widened in understanding. “I see.”
“Smart girl. Now move it, I’m tired.” He yawned demonstratively and got into bed. She skidded over just enough to let him draw the blanket over himself.
“Methos,” she purred. The tone made him groan inwardly and he threw the woman on the foot of the bed an exasperated look. “Why haven’t we hooked up since the 1920s?”
“Because you were in a huff when I left you and then you decided to play with the Boy Scout, remember?”
She shrugged. “His idealism was refreshing after all your cynicism. And he isn’t as jaded as we both are.”
“Yet,” Methos grunted and turned away from her. “Be a darling and switch off the light.”
“Methos?”
“Why are you torturing me?”
“Promise me something,” Amanda said in that whiny tone she had when she wanted something badly.
“Depends,” Methos mumbled, not bothering to turn around or open his eyes.
“Be careful, OK?”
“It’s my middle name. Besides, I’m a big boy.”
“I know but...” she started again.
“No buts, Amanda,” he groaned, exasperated. She didn’t continue but he felt the blanket being lifted and her lean body snuggling up behind him before he drifted off to sleep.
***
Adam found a hotel eventually. It had taken him a while but he did not regret spending time with Mathew and Amanda. He had not found out how old she was or what role she was playing in Mathew’s life but he had had opportunity enough to exploit her quick tongue. He now knew that their kind was being watched by an organisation called the Watchers. Adam was sure that Mathew had not even noticed her slipping the name, probably because they were both so used to using it. Luckily, he had not only the time and the money to make the best of his newly acquired knowledge, he was also free. More importantly, he had determination and thirst for revenge. He slept not more than two hours before waking up drenched in sweat, his heart racing, fully expecting to open his eyes to total darkness.
After a shower and a good breakfast, he set off. Five hours later he returned with a brand new notebook, a mobile phone, new clothes, several fake IDs and a semi-automatic 9mm. He preferred being prepared for all eventualities.
The good thing about being immortal was that one always had enough time. Adam was a patient man when it came to revenge. He had waited four hundred years to get back at Hiro, he could wait a little longer to destroy him and the world he lived in. One had to have one’s priorities right. He wasn’t a novice to secret organisations. The more people there were involved, the bigger the risk of a leak. It was time to find out just how big of an organisation the Watchers were. There might even be something about them on the internet. What a marvellous invention, the World Wide Web! He had missed so much while he was being imprisoned by the company. Just to think that Hiro would have let him rot forever and ever...very humane of a man who had wanted to teach him how to be a hero.
A Google search for immortal and watcher gave him over 160 pages of results because people were apparently so obsessed with the concept that there were several TV series and books dealing with it. Adam ordered some coffee and got to work. Sixteen hours later, he found the leak. Apparently, the Watchers were one of those secret organisations one could leave without being separated from one’s body. And not all former members were clever and upright enough to keep their secret. Some were even stupid enough to mention their membership on their blog. A few phone calls and several clicks later he had an address and a name. Monica Gilbert did not know it yet but she had forfeited her life the minute she made that entry in 2004.
***
Blindfolded as she was, she sat in total darkness and the only sound she heard was her own rapid breathing.
“Who are you? Where am I?” she asked her captor. Did he want money? Oh my God, did he mean to rape her? Oh please, let this not be happening, please, please...
“You’re safe. At least for the moment,” a man said. His voice was so close that she felt his breath against her cheek. She winced and her heart hammered painfully against her ribcage.
“Why am I here?” she asked, her voice high-pitched, almost hysterical with fear. Her hands were tied behind the chair she was sitting, trembling on.
“Because you know something I need to know.” Her captor’s voice was calm. “I’d appreciate your cooperation and--”
“Whatever it is...do you want money? I’ll give you everything I have, just please, please let me go! Please let me--” His fist ended her pleas prematurely and her head flew to the side. She whimpered.
“Now, interrupting me when I’m talking, that’s rude,” he went on, unperturbed by her whimpers and sobs. “And don’t be stupid. Why would I capture you if I wanted money? It’s not as if you had any. But then, if you weren’t so stupid we would not be here in the first place, right? Who is Methos?”
Her mouth filled with blood and stinging from the blow, she almost laughed. The Watchers again. She had been warned, there was no escape.
“Methos? The Watchers? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she tried weakly.
“Of course. Now, Monica, let me explain to you how it will be. You can either be a good girl and cooperate or we can do this the hard way. I can assure you that the hard way will not be pretty. We both know that nobody will come looking for you. You left the Watchers four years ago and you just broke up with your boyfriend. Your parents are dead. There is no one.” She heard the glee in his voice and shivered.
“Please, I never hurt any of your kind. I swear!”
Her captor laughed. “My kind? I wouldn’t think so. I will only ask one more time. Who is Methos?”
She swallowed at the sound of metal on metal. Oh good God, he sharpened a knife! “The Watchers don’t know much about him. He is a myth.”
“A myth? What kind of myth?” her captor asked eagerly.
“The oldest living immortal. The chronicles say that he is nearly five thousand years old. I never believed it,” she babbled. Her cheeks were wet with tears. If only she could see! At least the scraping sound had ceased. “Nobody knows where he is or if he is still alive. It’s only a legend. A myth.”
“Thank you, Monica,” the cultivated voice sounded closer again. “You’ve been very helpful.”
“You’ll let me go now?” she asked, desperate hope in her voice.
“Yes, of course. I’m a man of my word,” he replied.
And then the knife was rammed into her.
tbc
***
Comments are immortal!
***