Old Dog, New Tricks - HL/SPN - Immortal!Dean 'Verse
I know this is not the I!D story many of you are waiting for but my brain was being eaten by Reavers and I had to take a break. (FYI - past 11,000 words on that Serenity sequel).
So my Muse offered me this as a diversion. Enjoy!
Title: Old Dog, New Tricks
Author: strangevisitor7
Beta: Pen37 The bestest Beta!
Rated: PG
Prompt: Crossovers for HL_flashfic and #002 Middles for crossovers100 my table is here
Fandom: Highlander & SPN The rest of the Immortal!Dean Universe can be found here.
Characters: Methos, Dean Winchester, Duncan MacLeod, Richie Ryan and Sam Winchester.
Disclaimer: The characters you know and love all belong to their respective creators.
Summary: Immortal!Dean universe. Methos meets Dean for the first time and learns the Winchester version of what it means to be Immortal.
A/N: This is a stand alone story but in the Immortal!Dean timeline, this takes place right after Crossroads. It’s just after that first summer that Dean became Immortal and the boys have yet to meet Chloe.
Old Dog, New Tricks
“Mac, where the hell have you been?”
Duncan MacLeod looked up from his beer to see Methos entering Joe’s bar. “Hey old man, pull up a stool.” Mac greeted his friend and then signaled to the bartender for another round as Methos plopped down next to him.
“The summer has been positively dreary. If you, Richie and Joe decided to take a vacation, you could have at least asked me along. Where were you?”
“South Dakota.” Mac said without embellishment. The summer had been a revelation; one that would turn the Immortal world on its ear. Mac wasn’t sure how to tell Methos all that had happened since meeting the Winchester brothers. After 5,000 years of Immortality, he wasn’t sure the old man was ready to hear that everything he believed about The Game was false. Joe was with Ellen and Bobby meeting with the rest of the Watcher's council trying to explain their new version of what it meant to be Immortal. That left Duncan to start convincing all his Immortal friends that there was a better way to live.
“South Dakota? Never mind if that’s you idea of a vacation spot, I’d rather not tag along.”
“Actually, we found a new Immortal. I spent the summer training him.”
“Another student, MacLeod?” Methos said with a shake of his head. “And what’s this one’s name?”
“Dean Winchester. Richie’s helping him and his brother, Sam, settle into one of the dojo apartments.”
“What have I told you about picking up strays? You really shouldn’t let them follow you home.” Methos snickered and then paused as the rest of what Mac had said sank in. “What do you mean brother?”
Mac took a long swig of his beer. Whether Methos believed him or not, it was time for the truth. He swiveled on his stool to face his friend. “Methos, what do you remember about the beginnings of The Game?”
“You answered my question with a question. You know how much I hate that.” Methos said with a frown. Mac continued to look at him without responding. “Fine you want a history lesson, I’d love to oblige, but truthfully, the Game was established long before I took up my mantel of Immortality. Short answer: It’s always been that way. Why?”
Mac nodded. “That’s what I’d thought you’d say.”
Methos quirked an eyebrow at Mac. “You’re not thinking about going on some crazy ‘let’s all lay down our swords crusade’ because that worked so well when the false Methos suggested it,” he said sarcastically.
Duncan sighed in frustration. The old man was no doubt remembering the impostor who had breezed into town wearing his name like a badge of honor and almost got Richie killed with his ridiculous ideas that the Game was false and all Immortals should put down their swords. The pretender lost his head and the Game continued without pause.
“Things are different this time.” Mac said.
“Oh really? Because this time it’s the great Duncan MacLeod who says lay down you arms?”
“Because the Game is false.” Mac insisted. He looked around at the nearly empty bar before continuing; confident that they had enough privacy. “Dean is not an orphan and the Winchesters are blood related. Since meeting them, Joe and I have become convinced that the Game was a demon trick designed to get Immortals to fight each other instead of them.”
Methos burst out laughing. “How much have you had to drink?”
Mac knew how crazy the whole thing sounded and he wasn’t sure how to convince the old man. And if he couldn’t convince the oldest of them how could he prove it to everyone else. “It’s true.” He was adamant.
Methos was laughing so hard he was having trouble catching his breath. “This is a joke, right?”
“Laugh all you want. Demons, vampires, werewolves; they’re all real. Immortals are supposed to fight these evils not each other,” Mac insisted. This was going to be tougher than he’d thought as Methos was practically doubled over with laughter.
“Fight evil!” Methos guffawed. “Are you going to don a cape, tights and have a super secret identity?” He snickered. “Oh I know! You can call yourself The Immortal. I think that has a nice ring to it.”
Duncan was saved from replying when the door to Joe’s was flung open and the Winchesters and Richie strode into the bar.
“Hey old man!” Richie exclaimed as he caught sight of Methos. He walked forward to clap the Immortal on the shoulder.
Methos looked at Richie and began snickering all over again. “Hey kid,” he wheezed out.
Richie studied his friend who was in the midst of a hysterical fit. “You told him?” he asked Mac.
“I wasn’t very convincing.” Mac sighed.
“Wait, let me guess. You’re the side kick?” Methos quipped. “Batman and Robin are already taken but I’m sure you’ll come up with something just as catchy.”
Ignoring Methos, Mac looked to where the Winchesters had stopped at the front door. Confusion was evident on Dean’s face. “It’s okay. This strange man is actually a good friend,” Mac said waving them over.
“He’s Immortal,” Dean said to Sam as they approached the bar.
"Dean and Sam Winchester, this is Methos,” Mac said.
“Now Mac!” Methos giggled. “You’ve gone and given away my secret identity.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Dean asked.
“Just ignore him.” Mac assured the Winchesters. “He thinks he’s being funny.” Mac glared at the eldest Immortal which, instead of shutting him up, sent Methos into another round of snorting and snickering.
Dean and Sam exchanged a glance which indicated that they clearly thought Methos was a loon.
“Methos is the oldest of us,” Richie explained. “Almost 5,000 years old, in fact. He’s not usually this incoherent.”
“So, he’s nuts,” Dean said wondering if they all went crazy if they lived long enough.
“I’m nuts?” Methos retorted through his laughter. “Not me; all of you.” He waved a hand at them. “Fight any demons lately?”
“Truth didn’t go over so well?” Sam asked realizing what had Methos in stitches. Mac shook his head.
“You’re the brother?” Methos asked as he studied the tall, shaggy-haired Winchester.
“Got the blood test to prove it,” Sam quipped.
“And you fight demons?” Methos pushed.
“You got a problem with that,” Dean challenged him. He had no patience for this conversation.
“No, not at all. I’m sure the mental wards are full of people just like you.” Methos snorted but was taken aback by the four serious faces arrayed in front of him and all the mirth drained right out of him. “You all really believe this?”
The four nodded in unison.
Methos swallowed. “Mac, come on. This is madness.”
“I think I know how we can convince him,” Sam said. “I found a hunt nearby. That’s actually why we came to get you, Mac. Seems like a standard salt-and-burn-type haunting.”
“Yeah, college boy already begged off,” Dean laughed as he gave Richie a shove. “The wuss.”
“I told you. Classes start Monday and I’ve got to get ready.” Richie said as he shoved Dean back.
“That’s a terrific idea, Sam,” Mac agreed. “What do you say Methos, ready to be convinced?”
“Wait a minute. You want to bring loony tunes here on a hunt?” Dean asked. “I didn’t sign up to train every Immortal on the planet.”
“As of this moment, newbie, I’m convinced I’m the only sane one in this group,” Methos said darkly.
“In my world, you’d be the newbie.” Dean shot back. “And I’m not sure I’m letting you in my car, let alone on a hunt.”
“Who says I want to go on your bloody snipe hunt anyway?
“Actually, it’s a restless spirit,” Sam said. “Snipes aren’t usually found this far north.”
Methos just stared at the mortal Winchester. “Oh that’s just brilliant. Real stable crew you’ve gathered here, Mac.”
“Enough,” Mac said. “Methos, come with us. If you still think I’m crazy then we’ll never speak of this again.”
Methos nodded. “As a friend I consider it my duty to save you from your own folly.” He paused. “But not without something in it for me. Bottle of Scotch?” Methos said, proposing they bet on the outcome.
Mac smiled. He had him now. “Absolutely,” he said and held out his hand.
The eldest Immortal grinned as he shook sealing the deal. Methos motioned to the bartender. “Give me a bottle of your best scotch.”
“You haven’t won yet,” Mac reminded Methos as he watched the bartender put the bottle of black label on the counter.
“I want it nearby so I can celebrate when I win,” Methos said.
“No drinking on a hunt,” Dean growled. “Do we really have to bring him with?” He asked again.
“There there, my Neanderthal-like companion. No need to get huffy,” Methos said. “Really Mac, we need to be more exclusive with our Immortal club membership.”
“Now wait a minute-” Dean began angrily.
“Dean!” Mac snapped. “We need to convince him. So rein it in.”
Dean huffed, “I’ll be in the car,” and headed out the door. Sam shrugged a half smile at Mac and followed his brother.
Methos just laughed. “Oh, you’ve got him trained already. Well done, MacLeod.”
“Knock it of, Methos, and get ready to hand over that Scotch.”
Still grinning, Methos grabbed the bottle and gestured toward the door.
“See you later, Rich,” Mac said as he followed Methos.
“Have fun corralling the kids,” Richie said. He didn’t envy Mac having to play mediator between Dean and Methos
Mac just rolled his eyes as he shut the door.
****************
In the aftermath of what Sam had referred to as a standard salt and burn. Methos stood by the grave site speechless. He sucked in a deep breath, exhaled and then walked over to the Impala. He returned holding the bottle of Scotch which he handed wordlessly to Mac.
“Welcome to the new world, old man,” Mac said smiling as he took a swig.
So my Muse offered me this as a diversion. Enjoy!
Title: Old Dog, New Tricks
Author: strangevisitor7
Beta: Pen37 The bestest Beta!
Rated: PG
Prompt: Crossovers for HL_flashfic and #002 Middles for crossovers100 my table is here
Fandom: Highlander & SPN The rest of the Immortal!Dean Universe can be found here.
Characters: Methos, Dean Winchester, Duncan MacLeod, Richie Ryan and Sam Winchester.
Disclaimer: The characters you know and love all belong to their respective creators.
Summary: Immortal!Dean universe. Methos meets Dean for the first time and learns the Winchester version of what it means to be Immortal.
A/N: This is a stand alone story but in the Immortal!Dean timeline, this takes place right after Crossroads. It’s just after that first summer that Dean became Immortal and the boys have yet to meet Chloe.
Old Dog, New Tricks
“Mac, where the hell have you been?”
Duncan MacLeod looked up from his beer to see Methos entering Joe’s bar. “Hey old man, pull up a stool.” Mac greeted his friend and then signaled to the bartender for another round as Methos plopped down next to him.
“The summer has been positively dreary. If you, Richie and Joe decided to take a vacation, you could have at least asked me along. Where were you?”
“South Dakota.” Mac said without embellishment. The summer had been a revelation; one that would turn the Immortal world on its ear. Mac wasn’t sure how to tell Methos all that had happened since meeting the Winchester brothers. After 5,000 years of Immortality, he wasn’t sure the old man was ready to hear that everything he believed about The Game was false. Joe was with Ellen and Bobby meeting with the rest of the Watcher's council trying to explain their new version of what it meant to be Immortal. That left Duncan to start convincing all his Immortal friends that there was a better way to live.
“South Dakota? Never mind if that’s you idea of a vacation spot, I’d rather not tag along.”
“Actually, we found a new Immortal. I spent the summer training him.”
“Another student, MacLeod?” Methos said with a shake of his head. “And what’s this one’s name?”
“Dean Winchester. Richie’s helping him and his brother, Sam, settle into one of the dojo apartments.”
“What have I told you about picking up strays? You really shouldn’t let them follow you home.” Methos snickered and then paused as the rest of what Mac had said sank in. “What do you mean brother?”
Mac took a long swig of his beer. Whether Methos believed him or not, it was time for the truth. He swiveled on his stool to face his friend. “Methos, what do you remember about the beginnings of The Game?”
“You answered my question with a question. You know how much I hate that.” Methos said with a frown. Mac continued to look at him without responding. “Fine you want a history lesson, I’d love to oblige, but truthfully, the Game was established long before I took up my mantel of Immortality. Short answer: It’s always been that way. Why?”
Mac nodded. “That’s what I’d thought you’d say.”
Methos quirked an eyebrow at Mac. “You’re not thinking about going on some crazy ‘let’s all lay down our swords crusade’ because that worked so well when the false Methos suggested it,” he said sarcastically.
Duncan sighed in frustration. The old man was no doubt remembering the impostor who had breezed into town wearing his name like a badge of honor and almost got Richie killed with his ridiculous ideas that the Game was false and all Immortals should put down their swords. The pretender lost his head and the Game continued without pause.
“Things are different this time.” Mac said.
“Oh really? Because this time it’s the great Duncan MacLeod who says lay down you arms?”
“Because the Game is false.” Mac insisted. He looked around at the nearly empty bar before continuing; confident that they had enough privacy. “Dean is not an orphan and the Winchesters are blood related. Since meeting them, Joe and I have become convinced that the Game was a demon trick designed to get Immortals to fight each other instead of them.”
Methos burst out laughing. “How much have you had to drink?”
Mac knew how crazy the whole thing sounded and he wasn’t sure how to convince the old man. And if he couldn’t convince the oldest of them how could he prove it to everyone else. “It’s true.” He was adamant.
Methos was laughing so hard he was having trouble catching his breath. “This is a joke, right?”
“Laugh all you want. Demons, vampires, werewolves; they’re all real. Immortals are supposed to fight these evils not each other,” Mac insisted. This was going to be tougher than he’d thought as Methos was practically doubled over with laughter.
“Fight evil!” Methos guffawed. “Are you going to don a cape, tights and have a super secret identity?” He snickered. “Oh I know! You can call yourself The Immortal. I think that has a nice ring to it.”
Duncan was saved from replying when the door to Joe’s was flung open and the Winchesters and Richie strode into the bar.
“Hey old man!” Richie exclaimed as he caught sight of Methos. He walked forward to clap the Immortal on the shoulder.
Methos looked at Richie and began snickering all over again. “Hey kid,” he wheezed out.
Richie studied his friend who was in the midst of a hysterical fit. “You told him?” he asked Mac.
“I wasn’t very convincing.” Mac sighed.
“Wait, let me guess. You’re the side kick?” Methos quipped. “Batman and Robin are already taken but I’m sure you’ll come up with something just as catchy.”
Ignoring Methos, Mac looked to where the Winchesters had stopped at the front door. Confusion was evident on Dean’s face. “It’s okay. This strange man is actually a good friend,” Mac said waving them over.
“He’s Immortal,” Dean said to Sam as they approached the bar.
"Dean and Sam Winchester, this is Methos,” Mac said.
“Now Mac!” Methos giggled. “You’ve gone and given away my secret identity.”
“What’s wrong with him?” Dean asked.
“Just ignore him.” Mac assured the Winchesters. “He thinks he’s being funny.” Mac glared at the eldest Immortal which, instead of shutting him up, sent Methos into another round of snorting and snickering.
Dean and Sam exchanged a glance which indicated that they clearly thought Methos was a loon.
“Methos is the oldest of us,” Richie explained. “Almost 5,000 years old, in fact. He’s not usually this incoherent.”
“So, he’s nuts,” Dean said wondering if they all went crazy if they lived long enough.
“I’m nuts?” Methos retorted through his laughter. “Not me; all of you.” He waved a hand at them. “Fight any demons lately?”
“Truth didn’t go over so well?” Sam asked realizing what had Methos in stitches. Mac shook his head.
“You’re the brother?” Methos asked as he studied the tall, shaggy-haired Winchester.
“Got the blood test to prove it,” Sam quipped.
“And you fight demons?” Methos pushed.
“You got a problem with that,” Dean challenged him. He had no patience for this conversation.
“No, not at all. I’m sure the mental wards are full of people just like you.” Methos snorted but was taken aback by the four serious faces arrayed in front of him and all the mirth drained right out of him. “You all really believe this?”
The four nodded in unison.
Methos swallowed. “Mac, come on. This is madness.”
“I think I know how we can convince him,” Sam said. “I found a hunt nearby. That’s actually why we came to get you, Mac. Seems like a standard salt-and-burn-type haunting.”
“Yeah, college boy already begged off,” Dean laughed as he gave Richie a shove. “The wuss.”
“I told you. Classes start Monday and I’ve got to get ready.” Richie said as he shoved Dean back.
“That’s a terrific idea, Sam,” Mac agreed. “What do you say Methos, ready to be convinced?”
“Wait a minute. You want to bring loony tunes here on a hunt?” Dean asked. “I didn’t sign up to train every Immortal on the planet.”
“As of this moment, newbie, I’m convinced I’m the only sane one in this group,” Methos said darkly.
“In my world, you’d be the newbie.” Dean shot back. “And I’m not sure I’m letting you in my car, let alone on a hunt.”
“Who says I want to go on your bloody snipe hunt anyway?
“Actually, it’s a restless spirit,” Sam said. “Snipes aren’t usually found this far north.”
Methos just stared at the mortal Winchester. “Oh that’s just brilliant. Real stable crew you’ve gathered here, Mac.”
“Enough,” Mac said. “Methos, come with us. If you still think I’m crazy then we’ll never speak of this again.”
Methos nodded. “As a friend I consider it my duty to save you from your own folly.” He paused. “But not without something in it for me. Bottle of Scotch?” Methos said, proposing they bet on the outcome.
Mac smiled. He had him now. “Absolutely,” he said and held out his hand.
The eldest Immortal grinned as he shook sealing the deal. Methos motioned to the bartender. “Give me a bottle of your best scotch.”
“You haven’t won yet,” Mac reminded Methos as he watched the bartender put the bottle of black label on the counter.
“I want it nearby so I can celebrate when I win,” Methos said.
“No drinking on a hunt,” Dean growled. “Do we really have to bring him with?” He asked again.
“There there, my Neanderthal-like companion. No need to get huffy,” Methos said. “Really Mac, we need to be more exclusive with our Immortal club membership.”
“Now wait a minute-” Dean began angrily.
“Dean!” Mac snapped. “We need to convince him. So rein it in.”
Dean huffed, “I’ll be in the car,” and headed out the door. Sam shrugged a half smile at Mac and followed his brother.
Methos just laughed. “Oh, you’ve got him trained already. Well done, MacLeod.”
“Knock it of, Methos, and get ready to hand over that Scotch.”
Still grinning, Methos grabbed the bottle and gestured toward the door.
“See you later, Rich,” Mac said as he followed Methos.
“Have fun corralling the kids,” Richie said. He didn’t envy Mac having to play mediator between Dean and Methos
Mac just rolled his eyes as he shut the door.
****************
In the aftermath of what Sam had referred to as a standard salt and burn. Methos stood by the grave site speechless. He sucked in a deep breath, exhaled and then walked over to the Impala. He returned holding the bottle of Scotch which he handed wordlessly to Mac.
“Welcome to the new world, old man,” Mac said smiling as he took a swig.