Joe Dawson looked at the eldest Immortal who was leaning bleakly against the outside of the bar. Shit. He looks like his whole world's just disappeared. And he expects me to push him away too. the hazel eyes were frightened and tired.
"Come on, Kid, I'll get you a drink." Joe'd read the reports. Adam Pierson, ex-Methos researcher was kidnapped by Melvin Koren, a.k.a. Kronos, in an attempt to locate Methos and two other Immortals. The Watcher assigned to Koren hypothesized that Koren terroized the young researcher into submission:
"It appears that Koren or Kronos, as he calls himself, has a hold over Pierson. He keeps him very close -- on a short leash. He keeps him supplied with books and on several occasions I've seen them sparring. Koren seems to take great pleasure in teaching Pierson sword moves that I've never seen in any fencing class. For a researcher, the young man takes quite readily to it. Hypothesis: MacLeod (see reports DM 003.765.322 et al) has been teaching him.
"Koren's control is not always subtle however, I have seen him slap Pierson and once even knocked him into a wall. He always keeps his voice quiet, so that I cannot hear what he says, but Pierson always blends into the woodwork for several hours afterwards.
"The big one they call Silas (no records found) has taken a shine to Pierson, calling him 'brother' and stepping in between him and Caspari/Caspian.
"Caspari treats Pierson like Koren's equal. In his saner moments he teases the researcher. Very odd behavior for a mass murderer.
"In summary, Pierson is being held against his will. With this in mind his attempts to contact MacLeod are understandable. The Highlander has protected him before (see Kalas/MacLeod 1994) and will most likely do so again."
****
Joe led Methos to the back office, settling him on the couch with a beer and a blanket. "I'll shoot anyone who tries to disturb you." That got him a relieved smile. Joe shut the door, purposefully not locking it. He heard the bolt shut moments later and rested a hand against the door.
He placed a phone call to the Board of Directors. "Dawson. Pierson's at my bar in Seacouver."
"Thank God. When he disappeared we were afraid Cassandra had gone after him as a witness. She threatened him at the base if MacLeod's actions are any indication."
"I've met the bitch. That sounds just like her. Don't worry. No one's getting near the kid. Mike and I'll look after him."
"I have the name of a good therapist in the area. One of our people."
"I'll give him the number, but I don't think he'll call. He's been talking about leaving since Kalas showed up."
"Keep in touch, Joe. Let us know how he's doing.
"Will do. Hello, Mike," Dawson said hanging up. "Adam's in the office." The bartender grinned.
"Good. Now if we can just get him to de-brief us on what happened, everything'll work out."
"Adam part with information he can use for leverage? Never. I'll get him to stay at my place."
"I've got handcuffs and a gun."
"I may need them."
****
"Adam?" Dawson called quietly into the dark guest room.
"I'm fine, Joe."
"Liar."
"Yes, well." Joe wheeled his chair to the side of the bed. It was early morning. Too early for the night-owl Methos to be awake.
"Tell me what's happening."
"Nightmares."
"Want some tea? Warm milk?"
"No."
"How 'bout a hug?" Methos blinked in the dark. The question was serious and Methos took him up on it. Joe was solid, dependable and accepting. It made Methos feel like a kid.
"I don't want to talk," he whispered.
"Been there. Done that." Methos had lost weight. He was beyond lanky. "You don't want to be alone either."
"No." the honesty was overwhelming and suddenly Joe knew, without a doubt, that if he'd hinted at rejection, Methos would never be seen again. "Can I?"
"Of course."
****
Asleep, Methos looked even younger. He was curled up next to Joe who was writing in his private journal. Every time a nightmare began, Joe gently placed a hand on the dark hair. Methos would mutter under his breath and cuddle the pillow closer. "Kronos, no!" he cried sitting up. His eyes were hopelessly bleak.
"Talk it out." Joe stated calmly. He recognized the battle fatigue that drained the young-old man.
"It was a memory-mare, Joe. Back in WWII. I was in Germany, a tailor. My staff was all Jewish. Kronos was SS. He killed them all. He beat on me until he was satisfied that I understood his anger at me from our previous… meeting then shipped me off to Krakow." The voice was flat. Methos curled up staring at nothing. Joe's hand was warm and the only thing keeping him in the real world.
"I'd just taken my first Quickening when he found me, Joe. I didn't know anything. My name. My family. Nothing. Not one personal detail. I was a tactician. A scholar. Not a warrior. Kronos trained me. He named me. He's the first teacher I remember, Joe, and MacLeod wants to know why I didn't kill him!" Joe's hand moved of its own free will soothing the Immortal like he had soothed his niece and numerous orphaned Watcher children. "Caspian and I never really got along, but we were blood brothers. Silas loved me. He could protect me. It was a family. Dysfunctional as hell, but a family. And now they're dead. Because Kronos couldn't change, they're dead.
"Have you let yourself mourn them?" Methos shook his head. He was too tired to talk anymore.
"I had to destroy the virus and the monkeys and the bomb in the resivior then meet with Mac. Then, I came here. I had to know if I'd lose you too."
"No, you won't lose me. Piss me off maybe, but you're stuck with me." A watery smile and a sigh prefaced the Immortal's retreat into sleep.
****
With Mike covering the bar and a Watcher-in-training on MacLeod, Joe concentrated on Methos. As northwest Coordinator he felt it was his responsibility to the Watchers to give them their report. As a friend he was covering Methos' ass.
"Adam, I'm going to run some errands, need anything?"
"Actually… I need a journal. Mine's in Paris." Methos flushed.
"Will do."
****
"Hi, Joe. Come in." The Research Director ushered the older man into her hotel room. They exchanged pleasantries until Dr. Zoll couldn't handle it anymore. "What have you gotten out of Methos?"
"Kronos was his teacher." The woman's mouth dropped open, making her sharp face and dark eyes more fish-like. "The report from Koren's Watcher is essentially correct. He keeps… kept Methos on a short leash. Always has. He was trying to protect MacLeod and save the population of France from a virus Kronos planned to introduce into the water supply."
"The sparring sessions were to reinforce the relationship. The whole thing with the Cassandra woman?"
"To reinforce control. Kronos considered all of his students property. Methos was the first one he could mold. He found him after he took his first head. He had traumatic amnesia. Kronos named him."
"My God. Poor Adam. Well, it explains some of his behaviour. It was a common belief that he was abused as a child. Don took ages coaxing him to parties and such."
"Except poker games. A small environment, limited number of people. He doesn't care for crowds when he's unarmed. I feel the same way."
"How's he doing?"
"He's having nightmares and anxiety attacks. He can't sleep unless I'm there with him. He's skin and bones and exhausted. He's trying to make himself sick."
"We can't let that happen. No matter that it's interfering, Adam's a damned good researcher. The Chronicles are more complete than they've ever been. He's one of the few people who can read the old languages. Not to mention he started the Watchers. He and one of his students."
"I'll weasel the story out of him one day. I don't want to leave him alone too long and I've got some shopping to do."
"Keep in touch. The report currently reads 'Adam Pierson is suffering the effects of acute emotional abuse with hypothesized physical abuse.' That'll keep a steady paycheck for him."
"Good. He needs something stable right now. He's retreating into Adam Pierson around me, sheathing his claws. I've got to keep him away from Mac for awhile. I may take him to my place in Chicago."
"That may be good if he needs to feel safe."
****
"Adam, can you give me a hand with the bags?" Methos came out in his worn jeans and baggy sweater. His collar bones were more prominent and Joe had a thought. Kronos may not have beaten him, but he may have withheld food. At the very least beer. The loss of the calories form that could explain the weight loss.
The hazel eyes brightened at the sight of the 24 pack of beer. He moved quickly to unload the car. Joe put things away. "Don't forget the bag in the front seat." Joe offered him a beer as he came in with the last bags. Methos radiated pleasure as he drank the prize. He watched Joe sort the groceries into place.
With a flourish the Watcher presented Methos with a leather bound blank book. "Wow." Methos ran his hands over the book. "Thank you." The genuine smile was worth the twenty bucks. Methos had been busy Joe noticed. The living room was vacuumed and the newspapers bundled for recycling. The dishes were washed and put away.
"Can I hire you permanently?" Methos looked around.
"I could be bribed. Not a first."
"Room, board and beer?"
"For the moment. Hard work costs extra."
"Can you cook?"
"Of course."
"I may have to marry you then."
"Why, Joe, I never knew you felt that way!" Methos batted his eyes and laughed at Joe's long suffering expression.
"Kids," Joe muttered.
****
The house was rapidly becoming spotless. Methos was finishing up chores Joe hated. He repotted the plants. Washed the windows, cleaned the gutters, re-hung the shutters and tended the lawn. He soon became friends with the computer programmer who lived next door.
"Hello, Laura!" Methos called from the garden.
"Morning, Adam." The young man was looking better now. He was filling out so that you couldn't see his bones anymore. He was sanding off the chipped paint of the back porch before repainting it. She was glad to see someone helping out her neighbor, especially someone who looked like he needed a steady home. While Joe wasn't always in the states, he was a secure, steady personality. She'd have invited him over for lunch, but he seemed prone to panic when too far from the house. He was getting better, but he was still very wary.
Laura'd made a point of running into Joe at the market and the older man had confided that Adam was recovering from a bad situation. From what Joe would and wouldn't say, it seemed an old gang leader had come back and kidnapped the boy and held him hostage until Adam had orchestrated the gang's downfall. That explained the paranoia and the too-thin body. It didn't explain Joe's involvement or the boy's single-minded approach to work.
When Joe came home that afternoon Laura listened in to their conversation. "Will you come to the bar tonight? Mac's in Paris."
"Only if Mike'll let me tend bar."
"So you can get to the gun," Joe stated.
"I think you know me too well."
"Do you know how long it's been since I stopped sleeping with a gun under my pillow? Three weeks."
"That's because it's under my pillow," Adam laughed. "You know what Joe? You're too good to us. I know 'Manda's crashed here. And Richie. And more that a dozen Watchers I can name off hand."
"How else would I get my windows cleaned?" Joe played down his actions. "How did the meeting with Mac go?"
"He accused me of setting up the whole thing, using him, hurting Cass. He wouldn't listen to me. Not really hearing me. It was miserable. He'll never forgive me."
"Do you want me to talk to him?"
"No. I don't want to put you in that position. I'll leave if I have to, but what you have with Mac doesn't need any more stress in it."
"If you disappear without a word, I'll send Amanda after you." Adam laughed.
'That depends on what she'll do if she catches me." Joe laughed. "Have you given any more thought to having the bar consecrated?"
"More than you'd think. Who do you think I should go for Dionysious or Pan?"
"Dionysious definitely. Pan's just a watered down version."
"And he's a Roman. From what I hear you don't particularly care for the species."
"Marcus Constantine is a lying Roman dog! Don't believe a word of it!"
"Even if he has the nails to prove it?"
"He was no where near the place," Adam declared.
"It'd be easier to believe that if you weren't wearing your 'bait the enemy' face. Don't stick your tongue out at me, young man." They both collapsed into laughter.
"So, Dad, when do we have to get to the bar? Do I have time to finish sanding?"
"Probably not. Why don't you catch a shower and I'll clean up out here."
"Okay." Laura made a display of stretching as she got up form her lawn chair.
"Afternoon, Joe!" she called.
"Hey, Darlin', how're you doing?"
"Pretty good." She leaned on the fence and he came over to join her. "Joe, can I ask you something?" Joe considered.
"I won't promise to answer it."
"Is Adam your son?" Joe smiled at her. She didn't get the joke.
"No, Darlin', he's just a friend. Though he doesn't remember his family much. This whole situation's knocked him for a loop. He lost a couple who'd been his family to murder about three years ago. Now, he's lost the gang he grew up in and his best friend all at once. At least there's a chance of Mac coming around. Even if I have to take my cane to his hide."
Laura sighed. "Poor kid. He's not that much younger than me though is he?"
"He's in his thirties. What's today's date?"
"The 23rd." Joe looked stricken.
"Either he doesn't remember or he doesn't know the date. Today's the day he met Alexa."
"Alexa?"
"His wife. She was one of my waitresses. She was dying when he met her and he took her on a world tour. She died 6 months later. That was two years ago, if that. Just one more thing to deal with. Laura, don't push him to talk, but do feed him. I don't think he eats right when he isn't cooking for me."
"I'll make sure he gets lunch when I'm around. You're a good man, Joe Dawson."
****
Methos was enjoying bartending instead of bar lounging for a change. He consulted Joe's drink guide for some of the odder drink orders, flirted with patrons and lost himself in the day to day activities of the bar. The waitresses knew him and remembered Alexa, so they kept things light. Mike did paperwork and grinned to himself.
Joe noticed Methos tense, but no one else did. A newcomer scanned the crowd and wandered over to the bar. He was tall and broad, built like an American football player. He had sandy blond hair and a bright grin. Adam met his eyes calmly.
"What can I get for you?"
"A beer and some directions." Methos poured the beer. The new arrival put a twenty on the bar. "De Salvo's gym."
"Three streets down that way and four blocks to the right. Run down looking. The owner's not at home at the moment though. Heard he's touring Europe."
"When he gets back tell him to look up Billy MacGregor. Here's my card."
"I'll pass it along."
"Keep the change, Cos." Methos grinned and the man winked as the card and the twenty disappeared into the Immortal's pocket. "You a student at the dojo?"
"No. I just go there to work out sometimes."
"Maybe I'll see you around, Cos."
"Don't count on it." The blond settled in with his beer to listen to the music. Adam quickly took stock of the people around them. No one who was close enough would have found anything unusual in the conversation. Joe was on stage and Mike had sequestered himself in the back booth.
The big Immortal looked at the kid behind the bar. He'd obviously had some harsh treatment. The echoes of starvation and exhaustion still showed, which on an Immortal was difficult. He silently commended the owner of the bar for giving his cousin a safe haven. Adam's jaw dropped when he heard the soft ballad Joe was playing. He wasn't singing yet, waiting for the crowd to hit a lull. "Just one year of love, is better than a lifetime alone…"
Without a word the most senior waitress, Lynette, took over the bar. Methos straddled a chair and his eyes drifted shut and a single tear slid down his cheek. MacGregor noticed and wordlessly pulled up a chair. He placed a hand on the, he assumed, younger Immortal's shoulder.
"Was she worth it?" he asked.
"Oh, yes. She was incredible. So full of life. So much courage. The desire to live just one more day. It's the anniversary of the day we met. That's the only time Joe ever lets Queen be played in the bar."
"How long?"
"We had 6 months. She died two years ago."
"I understand," and MacGregor did understand. Mortal loves were fleeting enough. To have one taken before it even began was sheer hell. When the song ended Joe said softly:
"We miss you Alexa Bond-Pierson." The staff of the bar nodded in agreement.
"As long as you remember her she still lives and for now you don't have to remember her alone."
Methos glanced at him suspiciously. "I had a friend say something similar when she died."
"Duncan told me that when I was grieving. It's as true now as it was then. If you need to talk, my hotel number's on the back of the card. I'll be there for a week."
"Thank you, MacGregor. Adam Pierson."
"A pleasure, Cos." MacGregor took his leave. Methos took over the bar again. He was quieter, but still enjoyed himself. He locked the doors after the band and wiped down the tables. Joe and Mike took inventory.
Comfortably ensconced over dinner at 2 am. Joe asked, "Who was he?"
"William MacGregor. He was Sean Burns' student. Looking for Mac. Not for vengeance though, I don't think. He left his card. He's a therapist. Maybe I should send his card to Cassie," Methos grinned. "She has a thing for Scots."
"Maybe you should consider seeing him yourself."
"I know the Watchers want me in therapy, Joe, but it's not going to happen."
"I won't push it, if you promise to talk to me." Methos looked torn.
"I promise."
"Will you tell me more about Kronos and the others?"
"After dinner. Trust me. It's not a dinner story." Joe nodded and changed the subject.
****
Settled into bed like an oversized cat, Methos began his story:
I was in a valley. I'd been fighting with another Immortal, the face is just a blur. There was a massive rock slide. I was uninjured but the other one was destroyed. His head removed from his body. The Quickening was the most extraordinary, painful, exhilarating, devastating feeling. I lost who I was.
The Quickening brought Kronos hunting. He found me there, tucked into a ball, still shaking from the after effects. "What's your name, Boy?"
"I don't know." That stopped him. He was very gentle then, kneeling down next to me. He scared the shit out of me, Joe. His eyes were so cold and burned at the same time. He killed me and took me to his camp. He was alone at that point.
"First, a name, Boy. I'll call you… Methos. Now, then, Methos, do you know what you are?"
"I'm… Immortal," I said cautiously. I didn't want to anger him.
"Do you know the rules."
"Never fight on Holy Ground."
"And?" he prompted. I shook my head.
"One on one combat. Don't ever forget that, Methos." He stressed the name. To get me used to it I guess. "We'll start your training in the morning. Don't run away or I'll kill you again."
I ran away. He found me with a broken leg and literally dragged me back to camp. He forced me down inside his tent, shoved a cloth in my mouth and pounded a tent stake through my hands. I passed out. When I woke, he was fast asleep. He'd set my leg and it was healed. The wounds in my hands couldn't heal with the stake in place. It became his favorite threat to me after that.
He taught me how to use a sword. I was very good with a dagger, but the sword was so far away. I remember his frustration with me and the beatings I took because of it. I learned quickly. I hated him, but I need him, Joe. No matter how often he hurt me, there were other times when he was so gentle it aches. I was truly a child. I didn't know how to deal with my emotions and I was so scared. The world was evil, but Kronos kept it away. I had dreams I couldn't remember and he was there to keep the dark at bay.
We traveled, just the two of us for about a century -- stealing what we needed. Bartering when we couldn't steal. We became partners. When we met Caspian he was a warrior. Brutal, efficient, sadistic and clever. Completely mad, but we're none of us sane. Kronos convinced him to join us. He never really liked me. I was too quiet, but he never challenged my position. I was Kronos' student. Only Kronos could control me.
Silas was a warrior. He swung that axe of his and you ducked or died. He loved animals though and he could train a horse with such skill that it would stay in any situation. They didn't scare and he never hurt them. He liked taking care of me too. He'd never go against Kronos, but he'd watch over me until I healed or Kronos was ready to let me go.
Eventually, we spent decades apart, then re-banding together. I immersed myself in the cultures around me. I could read and write in Cuneiform, but I soaked up knowledge. Kronos would find me, no matter where and call me back to the Horsemen.
Cassie was my prize from a raid. Kronos killed her. I kept her. I trained her to be my servant. She was a slave, but I treated her well for the times. I gave her clothes and jewelry I made. I didn't beat her. She fell in love with me. That's why she's so bitter. I never loved her as a woman. I had affection for her. I could never kill her.
Kronos decided I wasn't dependent enough on him. He never realized that I taught Cass to kill. I knew she'd need to know if some troop came to raid our camp. They'd try to rape her. I never did you know. Not by the standards of anything but this century. If she'd been my wife not even a century ago I could've treated her the same and no one would have said a thing.
He dragged her away and I had to cut myself to remind myself that she wasn't worth the pain. She stabbed Kronos with his own dagger and escaped into the desert. I don't know what happened to her then, but Kronos and I had a I discussion about teaching slaves. Even Caspian was upset by it. He actually confronted Kronos. For me. Kronos was livid. Caspian and Silas protected me for about a year after that. They never left us alone together. He eventually cooled down, because I threw myself into the raids. It was how I got rid of the fear and anger. I didn't feel happy. I just felt empty. Numb was better than impotent rage.
The next time we split up, Kronos couldn't find me. I kept track of all three of them. Set up a network of spies. Eventually, they took on a life of their own. Kronos thought me dead for a millennia, then he found me again. We had a grand time as robbers for a couple of years and separated again. It was off and on again until about 2000 years ago. I faked my death.
In Germany, we had no time to become… reacquainted, but he couldn't let me go. He visited the prison camp. He found a reason and had me shot. I escaped the country after that. I didn't see any of them until last month.
Methos yawned and settled down to rest. "That's all the story time you get tonight. Good night, Joe."
"G'night, Methos."
****
Adam Pierson immersed himself in the bar as well as Joe's home. He polished the fixtures until they gleamed and fixed the shelves and plumbing. Methos was so into his work that he barely registered the presence. He looked up with a smile at the open door. In an instant he vaulted over the bar and to the entering Immortal's side.
The slender man slumped into a faint and Methos caught him. He tucked him in on Joe's coach in the office. "Jude? James? What the hell are you using…," Methos muttered. "Alex? Alex? Can you hear me?"
"Adam? Is it really you?" the Immortal muttered. "Thank God."
FINIS