THE YOU'RE IN MY HEART SERIES HELTER SKELTER Part Four By Susan and JoLayne RATING: PG-15 CHARACTERS: Methos, Amanda, Duncan, Kate, Joe, Cassandra, various Watchers SUMMARY: A month after Won't Get Fooled Again, Geoffrey's watcher figures out that Methos is not a myth, and very much alive. Methos is kidnapped; his mind and body are studied. NOTE: Thanks MnD, you rock, girl! DISCLAIMER: The characters you've heard of are the property of Panzer/Davis and/or Greg Widen. We're deeply in their debt for creating this universe, characters and the concept of immortality. However, the muses are in overdrive so we're using them with no hope of profit, only to entertain Methos and Amanda fans. Part Three ~~##1927 NEW YORK##~~ Methos revived after jumping off the moving train, in thick vegetation in mountainous New York State, also in the middle of the night. If it wasn't for the fact that his body had slammed into a boulder, he may not have died. He had to wait for his legs to heal, silently, biting back the physical pain. He wished that immortals had healing power for matters of the heart as effective as of the body. He sat up in the ditch, down the slope of the train tracks and rethought his impulsiveness in just leaving her. His nature had made him make a quick exit when things were touchy and he was afraid of how she would react once the news of his past was told to her. He dabbed at the blood that seeped from the cut on the right side of his face with his handkerchief. The sounds of steady chirping of crickets, an occasional car roaring past a highway below the hill he sat upon and the hooting of an owl assaulted him. It had been centuries since he had been one with nature and Methos wanted to get back to civilization as soon as possible. At least he had told her, she hadn't heard from someone else, or worse yet, ran into Kronos again. Methos stood up and stretched his newly refurbished legs, then shook them, testing their strength. He couldn't believe that Amanda had come across Kronos and didn't lose her head or be the victim of Kronos' special brand of 'lovemaking' in the process. Methos had walked for a while, then stopped at a small stream to make sure all blood traces were off his visible skin. Amanda had been staying at the Waldorf and wondered if she would return there. He knew she wouldn't be staying in Niagara Falls when there's a tiara with her name on it in New York. Of all the people in the world, Amanda had the most one-track mind of any person he knew. He had no idea how she was reacting to his revelation, if she had believed him in the first place. But could she have at least taken his advice not to return to the Waldorf? There was an immortal in residence, Kronos or not, he hoped she wouldn't. He himself had checked into the Salisbury and that was his destination. After walking for at least three miles following the highway back to New York, he was able to hitch a ride with a lonely truck driver who insisted on telling Methos his life story, starting with the day he was born. That was fine. Methos wasn't in the talkative mood. It was a good thing that Homer was pushing sixty, he had a lot of stories to tell. Homer dropped him off on the Upper East Side and Methos walked the rest of the way to the Salisbury. He slunk into his room wondering if he should clean up or just slip into bed for a well-earned rest. After collapsing on the bed, Methos knew he wasn't going to sleep when he had dried blood on him and since he hadn't eaten anything for dinner, he called down to room service for a sandwich and took a quick shower. After a restless tossing and turning all evening, he got up with the sun and went to the Waldorf, alert to any sensation dealing with immortality, and asked the desk clerk if Amanda was still checked in. To his relief, the clerk informed him that she had called to check out just a few hours before. He skedaddled and knew she wasn't going to the airport or harbor. He knew exactly what she was going to do. He was a bit angry that she would be back in the city, defying his advice, but he understood. If she could do her thing, he could do his. He waited, hovering around the perimeter of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, to see if he would feel her or any other immortal's presence. Methos could wait as well as anyone. At midnight, he felt Amanda and spotted her slinking in an unlighted area of Central Park near the museum's back, on the prowl. She had another with her, a short man, and they were both carrying bags that Methos recognized as Amanda's equipment used solely for unlawful purposes. He had hung back far enough so he knew she couldn't sense him. He knew just how far his range was compared to hers and didn't break that boundary. He just knew that if she did get that tiara, she might even be smug enough to stay in New York. She did enjoy defying him. As Amanda and the one he assumed was Antonio had successfully entered the museum, he did something that was purely for her best interest; she had to get out of that city. Methos went to the nearest phone booth and called the police about a break-in. With that, Methos got himself out of the city, and out of the way of Kronos. They hadn't met face to face since the day Methos had left the Horsemen, and he wasn't going to change his luck now. In fact, Methos wanted to steer clear of all people for a while. He mused, An African safari... that might be the ticket. ~~##1932 - NEW YORK CITY##~~ Free at last, Amanda practically yelled as she departed the correctional facility that had been her home for the last five years. For all intents and purposes, five years was just a drop in the bucket in her life, but it was five years she'd never get back. Thanks to that no good, Antonio! The bastard had accidentally tripped a wire and the police had made it to the museum in record time. By some strange twist of fate, the bumbling buffoon had made out with the tiara and had let her hang, so to speak. Well, she had done her time to society and now it was time for a little payback. No one messed with her and got away with it. Five years was a long time to scheme and plan. There was no way she'd let him keep her tiara. No way in Hell. The prison guards waved and smiled as she left. They're probably glad to be rid of me, she couldn't help but thinking. She had attempted to bust out several times, but had uncharacteristic bad luck. She'd even tried to kill herself but her cell mate had taken a liking to her and prevented her from dying. Who would have thought that popularity would be a curse? Before she did anything, a trip to Madison Avenue was in order. Fashion hadn't been considered in the design of the uniform she'd worn for the last five years. That was soon to be remedied. After patronizing the best stores in New York, she was going to gorge herself on the finest meal she could find and settled into nice king-sized bed at the Waldorf. Then Antonio was going down and she was going to enjoy every minute of it. ~~##1942 LONDON##~~ Much to Amanda's chagrin, Antonio had learned a thing or two from her about hiding out. The last eight years had been spent doggedly trailing her cagey partner, and taking a side turn as a singer in a German nightclub and caught up with Duncan MacLeod for a short time. Antonio was supposed to be the fall guy, not her. She had found out from colleagues that he was infamous for hooking up with someone and playing the bumbling idiot and walking away with the prize. Amanda had followed his trail, which wasn't easy since there was a war going on. She had almost choked on her breakfast when she read in the London Times that the tiara had resurfaced at the British Museum. After checking in with acquaintances, she found out that someone had to have fenced it over the black market last year. Some cretin by the name of Anthony Myers had ended up with it, and donated it. The only positive thing to come out of her five year prison term was that she'd had enough time to sort out her feelings about Methos. For the first year, she was numb. Over and over she had replayed his confession in her mind, and covered all the angles to figure out how he could have been mistaken. The second year, she moved on autopilot, and a visit from Rebecca had helped cheer her up. To have Rebecca see her in prison, it was enough to make Amanda shiver with embarrassment all over again. But of course, Rebecca had been gracious and was in fact proud of Amanda. She was serving her time to society. The third year, Amanda started to run her cell block. The fourth year, Amanda had plans of escaping, but her buttinski cell mate kept finding her before Amanda died, to be taken out as a corpse, reviving, then getting on with her life. It was comforting for Amanda to know that someone cared, but it only meant that she would more than likely have to carry out her sentence if she was to keep the immortality a secret. She had more time to think about Methos and his past. Maybe he was one of the Horsemen, maybe he had killed all of those people, but that was not the man she knew. She knew herself that sometimes you did things to survive that you weren't proud of and wished you could change. He lived in times that were more brutal than she had never known, and was glad. Times were such that it was either kill or be killed. Being the ultimate survivor, Methos would kill if that ensured his neck remained attached to his body. She wanted find Methos and set things straight between the two of them. She had missed the old man. Amanda grabbed her coat and headed out the door. It was amazing the information you could find out when you spread some money around. Money well spent in her opinion. A couple of hundreds in the right hand had gotten her information on this Anthony's location. Amanda knew enough about Antonio, and having to change identities, that Antonio Martinez was all over this. He wasn't even smart enough to change his initials. Only a couple of phone calls later to underground friends, Amanda found out that Anthony Myers was indeed Antonio Martinez, who had been living high on the hog in a manor outside of London. He had to have been fencing stolen goods for the last thirteen years! She wagered that he publicly donated the tiara to gloat. Did he know she was in town? Feeling social, Amanda had decided it was time to pay the bastard a long over-due visit. She smiled the whole ride down the elevator and gave the concierge a jaunty wave as she waltzed across the luxurious lobby and through the revolving doors out onto the busy sidewalk. By the time she had gone two blocks she was practically whistling. She stopped to smell the flowers at a sidewalk vendor's booth. Life was turning around and she was going to enjoy it, especially after she liberated that $25 million from Antonio. The money would go a long way in making its absence easier to bear. Amanda's joviality dissipated when the unwelcome tingle of another immortal crawled along her spine and into her brain. She casually looked around trying to spot the other immortal. The retreating back of a tall man in a dark trench coat caught her eyes. There was something very familiar about the way the man was walking. Amanda couldn't contain the smile that went all the way to her eyes. Only one man walked like that&ldots;"Methos!!!" she hollered and ran to catch up with them. "Amanda," Methos said nonchalantly as he slowed down his pace. "Fancy meeting you here." Amanda practically threw herself in his arms. "Boy, are you a sight for sore eyes." "I take it you're not avoiding me," Methos said as she slipped her arms around his waist. "I was beginning to wonder if you'd fallen off the face of the earth." "Me? Avoid you?" she was puzzled. "Let's see," he began. "The last time we talked you didn't seem to fond of me." "Oh, that," she realized what he was talking about now. "I just needed time to digest it was all. Believe me, I had plenty of time to do that." Methos feigned wide-eyed innocence. "How so?" "You see, I went ahead with my plans to steal the blasted tiara and we got caught. Or should I say I got caught. That buffoon, Antonio, triggered the alarm and brought the cops down on our heads. He was out of there faster than you can say 'You're under arrest.' He left me to take the heat while he took the tiara." Methos figured that if that's what she chose to think about the matter, so much the better. He played along. "You went to jail," he stated simply. "For how long?" "Five long boring years," she sighed. "My roomie wouldn't let me kill myself or I'd been outta there sooner." "At least you steered clear of Kane," Methos said without thinking. "Kane?!" Amanda stopped in her tracks. "Wait a minute." She yanked him around to face her. "You called the police, didn't you?" "Let's not get into it here, Amanda," Methos took her hand and tried to pull her long with him. "I can't believe you did that!" she dug her heels in. "I should kill you for that. I was worried about you the whole time and you were the one who put me in the damn prison." People had stopped to stare and listen to their rapidly escalating discussion. Not wanting to attract any more attention, Methos pulled Amanda into an alleyway. "Believe me, I'm sorry you went to jail, but I did what I had to do," Methos told her unapologetic. "You wouldn't take my advice, I knew you were like a dog with a bone with that damn tiara! Kronos would have had you for dinner and then he would have killed you. Permanently." Amanda spluttered for a moment and was about to let him have it with both barrels when she saw the look on his face. "You're serious." "Totally." "I guess I can forgive you," she relented. "I managed to keep your head attached and I owe you?" "Yes. I have the perfect way you can repay me." Amanda pulled a scrap of paper with an address scribble across it out of her pocket. "Antonio owes me at least half of that fortune he collected by fencing the tiara." "I'm afraid I can't do that," Methos grimaced. "And why not?" Amanda demanded. "It's the least you can do." "Because he's dead." Amanda eyes grew as big as saucers. "Antonio is dead? Did you do it?" Methos shrugged. Amanda slapped his arm. "You killed him?" "No, but I saw it happen." "You knew him? Did you at least get me half of the money?" "Amanda! A man is dead and all you ask about is money?" "Well... He was an asshole. I only brought him into my plan, one, because I needed another body, and two, because he's got great hands." She stopped and stared at Methos. "Hm," Amanda pondered. "I got old information then. He's dead? How long ago was this?" DUNCAN'S CABIN 2002 Amanda dropped Great Expectations, the book she had found in Duncan's shelf at the cabin, because Methos' screaming had come without warning, splitting the silence. She met Duncan in the hallway as they converged from different areas of the cabin to get to the bedroom. Methos turned his face to the door as soon as she ran in and yelled again. "You made me kill him!" Amanda was stunned. He had to have been reliving that manic decade just as she had. She thought they had quieted him from those words earlier, before he collapsed from exhaustion and slept. Joe entered and was affected by Methos' condition. Amanda touched his shoulder, and Joe shook his head and turned away. "I don't like seeing him like this." "Who does?" Duncan asked her, "Who did you make him kill, Amanda?" "I didn't make him do anything. A guy was shot by cops. Methos must be remembering it all wrong, if that's the same Antonio he's jabbering about, and he didn't leave anything out when he told me about it." Kate said as she had entered and listened to everything, "So he's remembering it wrong. Can you blame him? God knows what those cretins did to his mind." ~~##1943 LONDON##~~ Methos had been bored the last couple of years. Not wanting to have anything to do with the world at war, he avoided it at all costs. After London was bombed by the Germans in 1940-1941, he figured that the best place to be was where the destruction had already happened. Why bomb an already bombed out city? Methos had found himself a quiet nook at the British Museum being in charge of verifying the authenticity of cataloging all new artifacts to see if anything coming through was his. Nothing of his interest came through, until that is, one certain pearl tiara with a certified letter that it had belonged to one Marie Antoinette was delivered. As soon Methos he saw it, he wondered if a certain lady he knew had actually gotten away from the cops at the Metropolitan Museum of Art and fenced it. The donator was Myers and the name didn't ring a bell. He looked at the address on the crate the tiara came in and saw it was an East End address. That totally didn't make any sense at all! The East End was filled with scourge of the earth, and had suffered the most cases of homelessness after the Blitz. Reconstruction had been slow in that area of the city. Thinking about that certain lady again made Methos want to investigate it. Just the thought of Amanda, who he hadn't seen in over a decade, made him nostalgic. He hadn't ever looked her up; that was for her to do. In case she was having difficulty with what he was in the past, that was her problem. He had to live. But he did miss her. She might have gotten into a fix she couldn't get out of. As he left the museum by the side employees door, he at least hoped that was the reason he hadn't heard from her since he jumped off the train to Niagra. The address from the crate ended up being one of the many establishments that specialized in female nudity to urge the male customers to drink more liquor that populated the East End. As he looked up at the sign that read "ALL NUDE ALL THE TIME", Methos knew it wasn't a wasted trip at all. If they had ale on tap, his day was set. When he entered the club, it was appropriately dark, except for the red and blue spotlights on a young, vibrant teenager wriggling away on stage. The sign outside didn't have false advertising, but she was too young. She didn't have any shape at all as far as Methos could tell. He sidled up to the bar and ordered an ale, and looked at the pitiful men who was already half drunk at small circular tables surrounding the stage. Only the bartender seemed to be working, and he was an affable fellow. When the next girl came on stage, not much older than the first, Methos got the attention of the bartender and decided to get the point of his visit over with. "Might I chat with the proprietor, please?" "Mr. Myers?" "Exactly," Methos said, sipping his beer. He about did a spit take when this Myers came out from the back room. He was certain the man was Antonio, who broke into the Metropolitan Museum of Art the night Methos called the cops on them to get Amanda out of Kronos' way. "You wanted to see me?" Anthony Myers said with a think Hispanic accent. "Yes. I have a proposition for you," Methos said without even having a plan yet. But one was taking form. "Yeah? What would that be?" Methos saw the bartender eavesdropping, and Methos nodded at Antonio to join him in a back booth. It didn't take long for the thief to join him. This man had somehow gotten away from the police at the museum and had ended up with the tiara. Somehow. What did he do with Amanda? "I'm all ears, Señor," Antonio said anxiously. "Let me first introduce myself," Methos said, all businesslike and indicating a no nonsense attitude. "I am Phillip Danvers," he lied. "I work at the British Museum. Have I peaked your interest?" "Not really," Antonio said, shrugging. "This will," Methos said, leaning closer and starting to whisper. "You strike me as a man who likes to make a little fast money. I need someone to help me break into the museum and fetch something." "Why?" "Because it needs to be a two man operation." "Why?" Methos, ticked, sat up straight. "Are you interested or not?" "What makes you think I steal anything?" "Lucky guess?" "Who are you?" Antonio said, standing up as if the conversation was over. "Phillip Danvers," Methos reiterated. "You can make five million pounds if you help me out in about seven hours. In and out, that's all that's involved." Antonio returned to his seat. "Five million pounds? Seriously?" "Oh yes, maybe more. That's a conservative figure. In fact, I appraised it." "What?" "A painting by Monet. Lunch in Nice. I set the painting's value at ten million pounds. God knows what it could fetch in the black market." "A painting?" Antonio scratched his chin. "I'm more of a gem man. Ten million pounds?!" Antonio said, suddenly reacting to the price. "A painting is worth ten million pounds?" "That's a conservative estimate." Methos tossed a bill on the table and stood. "Are you in or not?" "I'm in," Antonio said without hesitation. Methos knew he would be, and strangely amused because he didn't have to talk the thief into it. Methos smiled and patted Antonio's back. "This will be a night you'll never forget." CABIN 2002 Amanda and the others stood in a circle, cautious around Methos' bedside. Tears had stained his cheeks and no one was eager to rile him. "I set him up and watched the cops shoot him down, Amanda," Methos ground out, ignoring the other people in the room. "I might as well have pulled the trigger, because of you." "Antonio Martinez? Is that who you're talking about, Methos?" "Yes! I prodded him into a caper to steal a Monet at the British Museum. I called the cops on him. When he tried to escape, he was shot dead. I didn't mean for him to get killed! I just wanted him to learn a lesson! He needed to see the inside of a prison like you had to." Amanda perched on the bed beside him. "Oh, sweetie, I'm sorry. I didn't know. I just thought--," Methos turned over on his side as much as the ropes that bound him would allow. "Methos?" He didn't respond; he closed his eyes and ignored her question. "Just try to sleep." Duncan tried to pull her from Methos' side. "Let him rest, Amanda." "But--," she hesitated. Kate cleared her throat, "Duncan's right. Maybe if we clear out of here for a while, he can get some uninterrupted sleep. Besides, its time to fix some dinner." Amanda didn't take her eyes off Methos. "I suppose you're right." She shoved herself off the bed. "I can't believe this is happening. What are we supposed to do now? He's not getting any better, in fact, it just keeps getting worse." Duncan reached out to comfort her, but she shrugged away from his grasp. "We're doing all we can, Amanda." "What if it's not enough? What if he stays like this?" Her voice was beginning to waver. "He'd rather be dead, I think." Joe couldn't believe things were deteriorating so quickly. Everyone's nerves were just about frazzled. Amanda looked like she was on the verge of an emotional breakdown. Duncan was trying to keep everything and everyone together. Kate had to feel out of the loop and just a little bit uncomfortable. And he felt&ldots; he wasn't sure exactly what he felt. This was possibly the worst thing he'd experienced in his life. "Don't even think like that," Joe was resolute. "We will get him through this. There is no other choice. If it takes the rest of my life." Amanda started to protest; however the determined look on Joe's face stopped her. Instead she linked her arm with the watcher and rested her head on his shoulder. His arm slipped around her they commiserated together. He retrieved a handkerchief from his pocket and dabbed away her stray tears. "Soon he'll be sprawled across a booth at my place complaining about the beer selection." "You promise," she snuffled. Joe smiled reassuringly. "Is the Pope Catholic?" "I'm sorry I've been such a bitch to you, Joe," she apologized and then looked at Kate and Mac. "That goes for you guys, too." "Hey, if it were Duncan lying there, I'm sure I'd be feeling the same way," Kate offered. "You're just worried about him. Don't sweat it. You want to help get dinner ready?" Methos was quiet for the rest of the evening. After dinner the four of them sat around the living room trying to relax, but any noise nearly brought them to their feet. Duncan finally turned on some instrumental music to drown out some of the random sounds. Joe was once again using his laptop to scour the watcher database to make sure they had gotten away without a trace. Kate and Duncan played Rummy to pass the time. Amanda tried to read her book, but her heart wasn't in it. "I think I'm just going to sit with him for a while." She said causing Duncan's eyebrows to go up in question. "Don't worry, Duncan, I'll take Joe's gun with me this time." Leaving the door open for safety's sake, Amanda wrapped herself in a quilt and settled in the easy chair next to the bed to keep vigil over the sleeping Methos. She finally allowed the grief she'd been holding back to surface. She held her hand over her mouth so the sound wouldn't disturb Methos or alert the others. Sob after sob shuddered through her body and after a time there was no more tears left inside her. Strangely, she felt better after releasing her sorrow. Maybe Joe was right; maybe everything was going to be all right after all. Methos seemed to be sleeping deeply if his snoring was any indication. ~~~~~ THE NEXT AFTERNOON All of Amanda's optimism from the night before had been replaced with a sense of concern. Methos continued to sleep, but not peacefully. For most of the night, he had tossed restlessly, not being able to turn because of his wrists being bound to the headboard. Occasionally he would cry out or mumble something they couldn't understand, but remained dead to the world. It was almost if he was reliving his life in a movie and only he could see it. She couldn't take it anymore. She had to know what he was thinking, feeling, seeing. The way he had thrashed about made her think that he might be reliving something. Something he'd rather forget, but it was too close to the forefront. Amanda poked her head out the door to see if the others were near, because she wanted privacy with Methos, thinking that he would tell her what was going on in his head if they didn't have an audience. When she heard them talking in the kitchen, she shut the door, and locked it. As she turned back to Methos, his head swaying from side to side, eyes closed, fiercely trying to ward off something, Amanda suddenly felt in danger. Her hand reflectively went to her chest which Methos had madly slashed in his sleep their first night at the cabin. She unlocked the door, but kept it closed. Slowly, she crept to the bed, careful not to wake him, then wondered if that was the right tactic to use. She went back to the door, opened it, then slammed it shut. Methos jerked awake and glared at her. The only light in the room was the lamp near the chair she had sat in, and his face scrunched up in fear. "Don't worry, Methos, it's me. Amanda," she told him. Duncan nudged the door open, causing Amanda to move forward into the room again. She told him, holding her hand up for him not to enter, "Sorry about that. I wanted to wake him up, and not be too close. We're fine here." He nodded, looked toward Methos, and said, "Call if you need anything, and be careful." Amanda shut the door again, and stayed near it. Methos' reaction to everything would be the thing that would gauge how she approached him. She stood, actually holding her breath, as Methos slowly became more alert to his surroundings, and her. "Come here," Methos said hoarsely. "How's it going?" she asked, still by the door across the room from him. "I've been better." Methos tried to smile, but it didn't last. He had been trying to keep himself up from the bed, but his body gave out. His hands were still tied to the headboard and they were the only thing not collapsed when he sighed. He stared up at the ceiling, then back at her. "Come here, Amanda." She kept the gun in her hand as she automatically moved toward him, but then deposited it on the bureau. Amanda stretched herself along Methos' length on the bed and nestled her head against his shoulder. She felt him kiss the top of her head and rub his against her. His chest heaving. She looked up at him and saw him crying. "They really screwed me up." Amanda said, uncomfortably, but wanted to know, "Did they use chemicals?... torture?... make you tell them things?..." She needed him to tell her what they did to him so they could hopefully help him see his way through this mess. When he was silent, she kissed him and wiped his cheeks. She was going to untie his hand, but he stopped her with a "No". He slightly nodded then looked away. "I don't want to hurt anyone." "I know. Are you hungry? Thirsty? Need to get up and walk around?" "All of the above?" Amanda jumped off the bed and picked up the gun. She opened the door and called for reinforcements. "Mac, come here. Joe, can you warm up a plate of pasta? Kate, open a beer. We're going to have company." Amanda handed Duncan the gun as soon as he came into the bedroom. "He needs to eat, drink, and take a shower. I'm going to untie him, so you make sure nothing happens. Okay?" "I'm with ya," Duncan said, looking toward Methos, his finger on the trigger of the gun, but kept it aimed to the floor. Amanda had trouble untying the clothes binds on Methos' wrists, but used her teeth to loosen them. After Methos was free, his hands still stayed in their captive position. She stood rigidly by the bed, waiting for him to make a move, but he didn't. His chest was still heaving with emotion, held captive by imaginary bonds. "Methos, come with me," Amanda said, holding out her hand. "Let me take care of you." "Just a minute." Methos seemed to be processing something. She felt Duncan grab her arm to hold her back, to protect her. She walked toward the bed. It wasn't right that she needed protection from Methos! That wasn't right at all. She sat down next to him and pulled him into her arms. "Talk to me. Tell me what it is." Methos finally moved his hands, as he tenderly put them around Amanda. Then he placed his head on her shoulder and held her tightly as he howled with frustration of what his mind was telling and showing him. "You talk to me. Remind me who I am now." Amanda pulled away, laughing and crying at the same time and took his face in hers. "You are the love of my life. You are a scholar, a teacher, a friend, a foe to those who deserve you to be, a survivor... a lush," she said, laughing. "You are my life. Come back to me." He closed his eyes, fighting off visions of what he did or was, Amanda didn't know, and needed to, "Talk to me. If I don't know what's going on, I'm in the dark. Tell me." "I'm not sure I know, Amanda." Methos sat up in the bed. "Too many memories rushing back at me." "Maybe moving around will help things settle," Duncan offered hopefully. "At least you'll feel better." "Yeah, I couldn't feel much worse," Methos tentatively flexed his arms and hands to restore the circulation. "Although I'm not sure I'm willing to bet money on that." He stood up slowly and nearly dropped to his knees when his world began to tilt on its axis. "Whoa." Amanda and Duncan hurried to help support the wobbly immortal. He leaned heavily on his friends. "You haven't eaten since right after we got here," Amanda informed him. "You think you can eat something?" "Maybe," Methos answered. "I'd like to take a hot shower though." "We can arrange that, I think," Duncan replied. "You can even use up all the hot water if you want." Methos gave him a ghost of a grin, "Like you could stop me, Highlander." He let go of them and walked slowly into the living room under his own power. He smiled at Joe and Kate as he walked past them to the bathroom. Amanda started to follow him into the bathroom, but the door closed behind him and the lock slid home. Joe stopped her before she knocked on the door. "Leave him be, Amanda. He probably just needs some privacy." "He's still exhausted, Joe. He needs me," she protested. "He does." "That maybe the case, but if he wanted you or anybody else in there with him he wouldn't have locked the door," Joe reasoned. "Why don't you get him some clean clothes and we'll fix him something to eat?" Amanda pressed her ear to the door to assure herself he was fine. The only sounds she heard were the running shower and his movements therein. If he needed her, she hoped he call out to here. "I feel like a mother hen." Joe laughed, "More a like a protective lioness, I'd wager." "With some rather wicked claws," Kate teased. Amanda stuck her tongue out at the room at large, but she couldn't help smiling. ~~~~~ Methos stepped into the shower and let the scalding water pounded over his fatigued body. This was the first time in a long time he felt the weight of all his years bearing down on him. Memories and faces swam before him. Some were vague, shadowy impressions of people and times past, others were so real and vivid he had to struggle against them to keep from following their dark spiral. His grip on the present was tenuous at best. Without thinking, he slammed his clenched fist into the tile wall of the shower with enough force to break all of the tiny bones in his hand. He closed his eyes tightly against the pain, but the faces and memories faded out of his mind. There's a solution, he thought darkly, enough pain will drown out the memories. "Methos?" Amanda's muffled voice sounded through the door. "Are you ok?" "Yeah," his calm voice didn't betray his inner turmoil. "I knocked over the shampoo is all." Methos leaned his head against the wall of the shower and let the water cascade over him easing some the exhaustion and tenseness out of his muscles. If only he could wash away the memories as easily. The water started to grow cold and he reluctantly turned off the water. He shook the excess water off his body and rummaged through the linen closet for a towel. After he had toweled the moisture of his body and hair, he wrapped another towel around his waist. His hand rested on the doorknob; he had to go out and face them. There was no telling what they had seen him do or say. He couldn't take their pity or sympathy right now. His emotions were too raw at present to deal with theirs as well. A billowing cloud of steam followed him as he walked out of the bathroom. As he expected four concerned pairs of eyes watched his exit. Amanda left her place on the sofa. "How about I get you some fresh clothes?" "I'm not a child, Amanda," Methos bit out. "I can dress myself." "I know that, Methos," Amanda cajoled him. "I'm just trying to help." "Well, you're not," Methos stalked back to what he assumed was his bedroom with Amanda hot on his heels. "Where are my clothes?" Amanda leaned on the doorframe. "Your bag is in the closet." Methos mumbled something under his breath. He jerked on the closet door causing it to slam hard against the wall. After he found his bag, he emptied its contents on the bed and began to dress. Jeans and a t-shirt were pulled on in swift, angry motions. Unsatisfied, he rummaged through the small pile of clothes looking for something. "Where the hell are my socks?" he voice was loud and agitated. "I can't find my bloody socks." "Calm down, Methos. You can borrow a pair from Duncan." "I don't want his socks! I want mine, damn it!" Methos was pacing the room and clenching his fists. "Don't you understand anything?" Amanda knew he was trying to bait her into an argument. He was an expert at that, but why did he want to do that now? "Well, aren't you in a charming mood?" Methos abandoned his search for the missing socks and came to stand nose to nose with Amanda. He chest heaved from his outburst. His leveled his most menacing glare at her, but she refused to back down and returned his glare with a rather intimidating one of her own. He threw his head back and yelled his frustration. He pivoted quickly and reached for something to throw, but his hands came up empty. His frustration escalated and once again he used his fist to relieve the overwhelming press of anger. This time his fist made contact with the wall, leaving a hole in the sheet rock. Amanda jumped in reaction to the splintering sound of bones breaking under the force of the blow. "Sweetie," she said as she approached him carefully not entirely sure of how he would react to her. "Let me see." The anger was gone from his face replaced with misery and sorrow. "I'm sorry, Amanda. I just can't get things to settle. I'm losing myself and I can't seem to stop it." He slid along the wall ending up in a sprawling heap on the floor. Amanda joined him on the floor. The only thing she knew to do was hold him as he cried. She rocked him and said all the soothing words she could think of. Not for the first time since this whole terrible mess had begun, she wished Rebecca were here to help them get Methos through this. Rebecca would know what to do. Silently, she cursed Luther for taking away the gentle immortal. Amanda hoped that his soul was burning in Hell. She noticed a shadow float over their bodies and saw Joe standing in the doorway. "The spaghetti's warmed up," he said. "Are you hungry, big guy," Amanda teased Methos, to see how he would react to her. She saw a slight smile and Methos took a deep breath. Then, Methos got to his feet and held his hand out to her. She took it, getting to her feet with his help. "Why thank you, honey." All three stood where they were for a moment, and then Methos realized they were waiting for him to go first. Why is that? Don't they trust me? They think I'll stab them in the back? He looked at Amanda. If the Highlander was right, he had stabbed her in the front. Raw bile littered his stomach from the thought of it. Then, in an instant, he couldn't understand the feeling. In fact, he looked at Amanda and Joe as if they were strangers. And they don't trust me... He motioned to the door. "After you, milady," he said. "Methos, get your ass in the kitchen, or the kitchen's closed," Amanda said, moving behind him and nudging him to the door. "We're not running a restaurant, so from now on, you're eating when the food's on the table, or you're going hungry." Joe laughed when she had said that, and Methos caught the expression of his friend, in a way that Methos had always loved seeing Joe. Carefree. That mortal carried a lot of baggage with him, and Methos was always glad when Joe could enjoy himself and people around him. Suddenly, Methos realized that his mind was back in the present. It scared him. So much so that he had to be lead, or rather shoved, to the table and sit down. Duncan MacLeod of the clan MacLeod stood guard at Methos' left, and he did a slow turn to stare up at him. Does he have to be so close? Methos caught a look at the gun in his right hand and figured he looked at it too long or intently, as Duncan laid it on the counter away from them all at the table. Then he took at chair, so that he was the one who could get to it first. Methos couldn't get his mind off that gun. He flinched when he felt the sting of a dart going into his neck. He rubbed the skin at his nape, and looked them all over. The dark haired man, the gray haired man, the dark haired woman, and there was another woman coming up behind him! He jerked out of his chair to ward off another dart from a tranquilizer gun, only to be held from behind by the large man. The dark haired woman instantly appeared in front of him, telling him to settle down. He's safe. Yeah! Right! The other woman hovered back and yelled out, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you." Methos got an arm free and felt his neck. There wasn't any mark, and it no longer stung. Both of that woman's hands were empty, and the only gun was the one that the gray haired man got a hold of during the commotion. Methos relaxed. He cleared his throat and said, "Sorry. My mistake." He hoped that he hadn't sounded as hoarse or brash as he felt the words had come out. Methos sat back at the table without another word. The plate of food did smell good. When those people left him alone, he picked up the fork and twirled it on the plate, expertly winding the spaghetti. He innocently asked, "You mentioned a beer? I've always loved hops with Italian." The woman at the table smiled. She has a nice smile. But she has to want something; she hadn't taken her eye of him since they were in the bedroom. As he took a bite of the pasta, he stared at her. Then smiled, to mimic hers. That other woman leaned to the table again and placed a glass of white fluid by his plate. He backhanded the glass and milk went flying. "I didn't ask for milk!" The smiling woman lost her smile. The other woman jumped back into the corner of the kitchen. The big man stood threateningly close and the gray haired man slowly shook his head and took a deep breath. Methos shoved the big man back and stood, then toppled over the table. Methos saw the look of irritation in the gray haired man's eyes when the plate of spaghetti ended up in his lap. "Don't you dare give me that look!" Methos ordered him, "Get down wipe up that mess! With your tongue!" The large man put his hand on his shoulder forcefully, and Methos threw a punch at him. Suddenly, they were wrestling and rolling on the kitchen floor intent on killing each other. Both women were screaming, one of them had kicked Methos in the head while the other was yelling, "Get off him, MacLeod! He didn't mean it!" Methos had his hands around the big man's neck and squeezed with every fiber of his being. No one was going to treat him like dirt ever again! An innocent mistake caused Methos five years of heavy labor. There was no justice in the world! As the large man's face turned red, then blue, Methos laughed and his strength grew stronger. If only Methos had been immortal when Cyrium had no patience with his help! Methos could have squeezed the life out of that fat fuck without having to worry about the consequences of being stabbed, hanged, and burned alive. Hell! It is worth it!, he thought, then yelled, "Do what you want! He is dead!" A shot rang out and Methos slowly inhaled, staring at the large man's face in shock. Then the heavy blanket of death came over him. Duncan jerked himself away from Methos' clench and reflectively coughed. Amanda glared up at Kate and grabbed the gun from her hand. "You could have killed me too! Watch it!" It took some rapid-fire poundings on Duncan's back by Kate to be able to catch his breath. "He was killing Mac! What do you suggest I have done?" Methos was a dead weight in her lap, just as he had fallen. Amanda had gotten herself between Methos and Duncan, and she had almost gotten his fingers loose when the shot had gone off. "You didn't have to kill him. You could have helped me, and no one would have died. Methos hates dying!" "I enjoy it?" Duncan yelled. "You know what I mean," Amanda qualified. "I almost had you free." "Well, bully for you, Amanda." Duncan stood up but couldn't stand straight. He righted a chair and sat in it, then glanced at Joe, who had remained seated through the entire proceeding. "You were some help." Joe said, "Hey, I watch and record. But, I tossed Kate the gun." "You all are so intent on killing him," Amanda said, frustrated. "How are we going to work through things if you just kill him when things get too messy? Is that accomplishing anything?" Kate jerked Amanda's shoulder back in a complete act of indignation. "I accomplished saving my husband a death!" "Why are you so blind to what's happening around you?" Duncan asked Amanda, really wanting to know. "He was killing me and all you can ask is why did she protect me from him? You know how dangerous can be." "He needs help! Not more deaths!" Amanda yelled. "You're so quick to forgive him, for anything," Duncan said. "Why is that? Don't you know how dangerous he can be? There was one time when you seriously thought he was trying to kill you, remember that?" Of course he would bring up those manic days just after mortals broke into her apartment with swords. "Yes," Amanda slowly, angrily said. "I apologized to him about that, and he understood." Duncan wouldn't accept that dismissal. "You and Methos may have been together for a long time, you 'know him better than' all of us. Yes. I get that. But if you have such a perfect relationship, why were you so adamant that he was trying to kill you to get the Methuselah Stone? Tell me. I want to know." Amanda pulled Methos up and held him tightly. "I was attacked in the middle of the night. I was confused, I know Methos. I know that if he gets something in his head that will protect someone he loves, such as Alexa, and he was a Watcher at the time, I didn't know who else could possibly have had a motive." Amanda glared at Joe. "I didn't assume that it was the Watchers themselves who were after me. I thought they just 'watched and recorded' as you so haughtily said not two minutes ago, Joe. Now we all know that they don't, do they? I was foolish and naive. No more." She looked down at Methos and kissed him, as if to breath life back into him. "No matter how old you are, you always learn." A heavy silence settled over the room. Kate and Duncan began to clean up the over turned table. Amanda glared at everyone in the room, while Joe silently wished he was anywhere but there. The humming of the appliances and the ticking of the clock seemed unusually loud in the hushed dining room. The dishes rattled as Duncan set them in the sink. "Do you have to be so loud?" Amanda asked impatiently. Kate whirled around from her spot at the sink. "Do you have to be such a bitch?" "You haven't seen anything yet," Amanda promised. "Stop the bickering, you two!" Duncan yelled. "I've had all can take." "I second that," Joe agreed. "This is not going to help matters at all." "And neither is killing him over and over again," Amanda protested.  "Come talk a walk with me, Amanda," Joe suggested. "Maybe some fresh air will help." "I'm not leaving him, Joe." "Well, you're not helping him either," he admonished.  Methos' buzz alerted the other immortals of his return to life. He gave a couple of harsh coughs as he pushed himself out of Amanda' lap. He scooted across the floor and levered himself to his feet. Feelings of familiarity stirred as he looked at each person's face, but names and their relationship to him failed to come to mind. Perhaps he was just tired from his long journey, yes that had to be it. He'd find his room and rest for the night. "Sir, I was wondering if you might direct me to my room," Methos asked Joe. "Seems I have forgotten its location." Joe threw a look at MacLeod, who just shrugged his shoulders. "Uh, you're room is the second door on the left." Methos nodded. "Thank you." He reached in his pocket for a coin to give to the helpful man, but he came up empty handed. "I seem to have run out of coin." "No problem, sir," Joe played along. "You paid when you arrived." "Very good," Methos bowed formally and went in search of his room.  He found the room. After closing the door, the lock slid into place. He was very tired. Ah, well, he had a nice dry room out of the elements to spend the night. The bed gave under his weight. A soft bed to rest his weary bones. His clothes were swiftly shed and he burrowed under the heavy blankets. He kept seeing the faces of the other guests and wondered where he knew them, but exhaustion pushed his thoughts away. Strangely, he didn't feel threatened by their presence, even though they were immortals. First thing in the morning, he would query the innkeeper about their identities. Nonetheless sleep had to come first. ~~~~~ Amanda watched Methos calmly walk into the bedroom. His personality changes or mood swings were so abrupt and drastic. She was on edge. Maybe Joe was right, maybe she needed to get out and walk around for a bit. She went to the hall closet and got her and Joe's coats. "You're right, Joe." She handed him his coat. "I do need to get out of here before I go crazy." Joe smiled as he shrugged into his coat. "Hold down the fort, Mac." Duncan nodded. "When we get back you and Kate should go for one, too." Amanda wrapped her scarf around her neck. "Please, just don't kill him while we're gone." "As long as he behaves himself," Duncan replied. "I won't." Amanda bit back a retort and walked to the door. Joe followed and held the door for her. They walked out into the waning sunlight of the midwinter afternoon. Joe held the porch railing as he eased down the steps into the yard. He held out his arm to Amanda and she slipped hers through his. Slowly they walked a short distance away from the cabin. "It smells like snow," Joe sniffed. "Winter seems to come earlier every year." His deep laugh carried along the chilly air. "Must be old age creeping up on me." Amanda positioned herself so the breeze swept her chin length hair away from her face. Her cheeks were beginning to redden from the wind's caress. She let out a long sigh and rolled her neck a couple of times. The stress that had settled there lessened for a moment or two. She let go of Joe's arm and took a couple of steps back towards the cabin, but stopped. "He detests snow, did you know that, Joe?" she asked with a small laugh.  "Yeah, he told me once that if he wasn't meant for snow," Joe remembered. "Said he would've born with a fur coat if that were the case." "I remember one time, he came to the abbey to see me and Rebecca," Amanda's eyes took on a far away look. "He was complaining about the cold and snow when Rebecca asked him to go check on her prize horse who was about to foal." Her smile grew even bigger as she recalled the memory. "After he stomped off to the stables, Rebecca told me to bundle up. We snuck out and hid behind a low wall and made a ton of snowballs. It was all I could do to keep from laughing, but Rebecca threatened to send me packing if I let Methos know what was going on." Joe face lit up at the prospect of finding out part of the oldest immortal's past. "And?" "Methos came trudging back through the snow, mumbling and muttering. We waited until he was within hitting distance and we pelted him unmercifully. You should have seen the look on his face, Joe. It was priceless." "It's hard to surprise him." "After the initial shock wore off, he had a ball. It was like he was a little kid again," Amanda looked back at Dawson. "Rebecca always knew how to make people happy." "I wish I could've met her," Joe said. "She seemed like a wonderful person." Amanda nodded. "She was that, and more. I wish she were here now. She would know how to help him." Joe opened his mouth to reassure her that everything would be all right, but he thought better of it. He was beginning to wonder if Methos would ever be fine again. He hoped, but even his hope was wearing thin. Instead, he walked over to where she stood and laid his hand on her shoulder. "You really love him, don't you?" "From the moment he tossed a starving urchin those coins," she admitted. "He is the most incredible person I've ever known. I can't imagine my life without him in it." "Why didn't you guys ever get married?" "We tried once... Suffice it to say, an event of epic proportion intervened," Amanda smiled ruefully. "But that's a story for another time." Amanda shivered in the chilly night air. "We should head back and see how he's doing." "Yeah," Joe took her arm again. "If anyone can beat this, Methos will be the one to do it." ~~~~~ MEANWHILE BACK AT THE CABIN It's the only way, Kate." Duncan paced along the fireplace. "Believe me if there were any other way, I'd do it." Kate shifted in her chair. "Will she do it though? From what you're telling me, she wouldn't be thrilled." "I just need to get her here," he said as he perched on the arm of Kate's chair. "Once I get her here, I'll worry about the rest of it." A cold burst of air followed Amanda and Joe as they swept back into the warmth of the cabin. Standing with hands extended to the heat of the fire, Amanda relished the warmth of the fireplace. Joe joined her and tossed another log on the fire. "Duncan may have come up with a plan," Kate told Amanda cautiously. Amanda raised her eyebrows. "What kind of plan?" This was the part of his plan that Duncan was dreading. It wasn't going to be an easy sell, but at this point they were not getting anywhere on their own. If only Sean was still alive, he thought sadly. Sean was the closest thing to an immortal psychiatrist he knew of. Desperate situations sometimes called for drastic measures. He cautiously said, "Cassandra." Disbelief reflected on Amanda's face. "You're kidding me, right? Cassandra would no sooner help Methos then I would take his head." "We don't have any other choice," Duncan said.  "Mac, I don't get it." Joe was puzzled. "How could she help him?"  "The voice. I'm thinking she could use it to break through to him and help him settle all this memories." "More like she'd use it to confuse him even more," Amanda jeered. "I don't think so, MacLeod." "Listen to me for once, Amanda. We don't have a choice," Duncan said quietly. "Unless you want him to stay like this indefinitely, we have to give it a shot." "He's right, Amanda," Joe stated. "We have to try for his sake." Amanda said, shrugging, "She probably won't come anyway." There was always a chance that she would, and if Cassandra could somehow help get Methos back, Amanda would be for it. "That's where I come in," Kate jumped into the conversation. "I'll head back to the mainland and call her and pick up some more supplies. I'll tell her Duncan needs her." "She will come," Duncan was sure of himself. "And she will help him. Cassandra's a good person." "I hope you're right." Amanda was doubtful. "I'm going to go check on him." ~~~~~ Amanda took a hairpin out of her makeup case and went to Methos' door. "How dare he lock me out," she muttered as she worked the lock. Within seconds she was inside his room. Even though he hadn't eaten, and had been sleeping, or dead, since his arrival at the cabin, Methos was once again sleeping like a baby. All those deaths didn't get that crap they injected him with out of his system? Suddenly, Amanda shivered. The chemicals had to be gone; all that left was Methos' scrambled mind. She had been hoping that if they could just wait until the chemicals dissipated, things would be fine. Methos would come to his senses. They could get their life back, now that they were together. They had decided in Bora Bora that there would be no more secrets, or lies to others, about their relationship, and were in it for the long run. At least, that was what she thought. Methos had been so loving and carefree. She hadn't seen him like that in decades. When she needed to go to Paris, not only for shopping, she was a little disappointed that he didn't want to go with her, but figured he needed to do tend to things. He had owned that getaway on the coast for the last 47 years. He had to have had some roots, business he had to take care of. Didn't he? He didn't stay behind because he needed time away from me? Amanda slunk into a chair and watched him sleep, suddenly not feeling as confident in their bond as she had been just moments before. It had to be Cassandra. Just the thought of Cassandra could make Amanda nervous. Even though Amanda wasn't around for the return of the Horsemen to Paris, and they had invaded Duncan's life, Amanda heard all about it from Methos, in a letter. She never brought it up to him face to face. She told herself that she never would. For Cassandra to come here, for the purpose of helping Methos... well. Amanda really didn't think she'd stay long enough to take off her coat if Cassandra knew the reason for her visit. Could Methos' past as Death, and revisiting that animal, and killing Dr. Lang, have really made his mind go past the point of no return? Amanda shivered and reflectively gasped. Methos had 5000 years of experience; that was just a part of it. Methos moved his feet, the turned over. "Amanda?" she heard him say, clear as a bell. "Yeah?" "What are you doing over there? I'm cold." Methos lifted the covers, and patted the bed beside him. Usually, she'd be in that bed like she had been shot out of a cannon, but now, she was trepidatious. She heard the outside door open and close, then the bedroom opened. The silhouette of Duncan MacLeod stood there and said, "Kate just left. How's he doing?" "I'm doing fine, Highlander. Why did she leave? You two seemed so happy," Methos said with a hint of amusement. "We are," Duncan said easily. "She just went to get something. Are you still hungry?" "No, he's not," Amanda countered. She told Methos, "If you're not going to eat when we do, or if you're going to throw your food around, you can go hungry." "Why, what did I do?" Methos inquired, completely innocent. "You acted like a spoiled child," Amanda told him, getting up from the chair and sitting on the bed. She pulled the covers over her and looked to Duncan. "Would you stay with us for a little while?" It was always nice to have backup. Amanda cringed when she realized she no longer trusted to be alone with Methos. Methos smiled and started kissing Amanda's neck. "You always have been kinky, luv, but a threesome is out of the question." Amanda took a deep breath and said, "We're going to have company." "I don't think you should tell him, Amanda," Duncan said, approaching the bed. "Why not? You want to surprise him again? Look how well that's always turned out." "Who's coming?" "Cassandra," Amanda plainly said. Methos stared at her for what seemed like an eternity. Then spoke, "Long dark hair, big eyes, long legs. There isn't another Cassandra in the world, is there?" "More than likely," Amanda quipped, "But the one that's coming is the one you know." "And slept with MacLeod, while you two were together," Methos enjoyed saying. "I did not!" Duncan burst out. "She is a friend, and she-" Methos laughed. "Look at the one who has issues here." He kept his laugh going until it was a giggle. Duncan pulled Amanda up by her arm as Methos said, "I have met other Cassandras. You wouldn't by chance want to ring up Cassandra Milton, would you? Or Cassandra Heinrich? Or Cassandra Popandropolis? Or Cassandra-" "Knock it off," Amanda said.  "What are you expecting? Do you think I'm going to fall down and beg forgiveness? You can kiss that idea goodbye. She's nothing to me, she always has been, always will be. Nothing." Methos laid back down and situated the covers over him. "If you're not going to join me, why don't you both go away and shut the door behind you." Duncan moved Amanda to the door, against her will, as Methos said, "In fact, with Kate out of the picture, have fun. I'm a big boy, I won't mind hearing you two go at it. Again." "What are you talking about?" Amanda was mad enough to spit.  Methos bolted up out of bed and said, "Amanda! I found out that you and Duncie were back together in the 90s because I heard you! You were so into each other that you didn't even feel my buzz when I decided to pop over to visit a friend who lived in a barge." Methos smiled. "Oh, that's right. My range is broader than either of yours put together. You could have warned me, but you've always been a selfish little girl." Methos raged as he got out of bed and paced. "Bloody children. Get the hell out of here!" Duncan stood close, almost nose to nose with the old guy and said, "Why? Is the thought of Cassandra invading your space too much to handle? Is that your whole problem? Is Death still in there? Is he close to the surface, so close, you have to try too hard to keep him in check? Well, that didn't help you in the kitchen did it!" Methos laughed at him, evilly, maniacally, in much the same way he laughed in Duncan's face during their encounter in front of his escape vehicle. "I wasn't Death, MacLeod. I only used that term so that you could understand me. I not only was Death, I was War. I was Pestilence. I was Famine. I wasn't children's worst nightmares I was yours. I needed to get you so angry... at me, at Kronos, at the world and everything you take for granted, so that you would take care of it." "Because you couldn't! You're a coward!" "I chose my battles," Methos corrected him. "I still do." Methos took one last look at Duncan, then balled up his fist and started to punch him. Amanda grabbed his hand and yanked it down before he could make contact. All the while, Duncan stayed still, maintaining eye contact with the man who was picking a fight. "Now who has the issues?" Duncan said evenly. "This whole thing is about your issues." "No, it's not," Amanda said, not understanding where and why this turned as it had. "This is about what they did to him." "He's not a victim," Duncan said, emphasizing the word. "You never were, the way you tell it. All your actions have always been planned down to the minutest detail. Right?" "You're such an arse. You never listen. You never understand, unless it's spelled out for you or visual aids are given." Amanda put herself between the men and separated them by stretching her arms out as far as they could go. "Stop it." "Why?" Methos said, taking her hand. "Because I'm saying the truth? The truth that's been blatantly clear but no one's ever uttered out loud? Because I'm calling him on the fact that he's made up entirely of bullshit!" Methos moved her closer to Duncan. "You two make a great couple. Even though you're married, MacLeod, fuck her. Hasn't stopped you before. She wants it. I see how Amanda looks at you. You have my blessing. In fact, I'll keep fucking her, too. Many men have. Why stop now, Amanda? Do you think you want a go at that geezer in the other room?" Amanda walked out of the room stiffly. She knew in the back of her mind that since Methos had reacted in many ways, to all of them, that turning on her might have been a possibility. What she hadn't expected was that he would have a ring of truth, of what he had to have thought all along, in his incomprehensible diatribe. Everything Methos had done since arriving at the cabin had been exaggerated, but could there be a kernel of truth, or a seed of what he actually believed, mixed in with all of the garbage? She passed Joe in the hallway and ended up in the living room. She yanked open the curtain to stare at the room's reflection on the black window. Snowflakes fluttered down against the dark of night. She could feel Joe walk up to her. She said, "Methos really hates the snow." "He's confused, Amanda. Go back in there," Joe suggested. She turned around and hugged him. "I will," she said lightly. "Just not while I still want to kill him." "If it's any consolation, he probably doesn't even realize what he's saying," Joe soothed. "Everything is muddled up in his head." "What if parts of what he's saying are real?"  "More than likely bits and pieces are getting scrambled around." "I hope Cassandra can help him." Duncan stomped out of Methos' bedroom. "That bastard better be glad this is Holy Ground." Methos listened to the door slam with a satisfying thud. He sprawled back onto the bed and pulled the covers up to his chin. Peace and quiet at last. The Highland Boy Scout had stormed out after Methos had told him in no uncertain terms to sod off. MacLeod was always sticking his nose in places it didn't belong. So he was a little off his game, that was no reason to drag Cassandra into it. Tomorrow he'd bid their company farewell, he was tired of the pitying looks they kept giving him. All he needed was a good night's rest, if they'd leave him alone long enough to accomplish it. He punched his pillow and buried his face in the indented surface. After he was settled into sleep, only a small thatch of dark hair was visible ~~~~~ "Adam, come look at this!!" Alexa shouted over the crashing of the waves. "I can't believe how beautiful this is!!" Methos joined Alexa on the patio. The little white house he had rented for their stay on the Greek island perched solidly on the sheer rock cliff over looking the deep sulfur blue sea. The warm breezes caressed their skin. His arms circled her tiny waist. "Neither can I," he whispered into her ear. He knew she was referring to the brilliant sunset, but the wonderment on her face was more breathtaking than the spectacular colors Mother Nature displayed for their entertainment. "This is my absolute favorite place that we've been," she leaned back against him and sighed. "Can we&ldots;I mean&ldots; if we have time, can we come back here?" "Of course, we can." Alexa was quiet.  "Something wrong?" Methos turned her so she faced him. She couldn't or wouldn't meet his gaze. "Alexa, talk to me." "We won't be back, will we?" His arms tightened around her. "Don't say that, Lex." "You know as well as I do that I'm only getting worse," she replied. "We can't avoid this, Adam. We have to be realistic." Methos' chin rested on the top of her head. "I know." "Promise me something," she snuggled deeper into his embrace. "What?" "When the end comes--" she gave him a warning look when he started to interrupt. "Promise me we'll be realistic, ok?" "I don't want to be realistic, Lex." He sounded more like a five year old than the oldest man on the planet. "Adam, I need this from you." "Alright, I promise," he reluctantly responded. "Let's not talk about it right now." "Deal," she smiled. "I'm hungry." Methos nibbled her neck. "Shall we eat out or dine in?" Alexa tilted her head and smiled as he kissed her again. "In, most definitely." Before she knew it, she was in his arms being carried inside. ~~~~~ "Alexa!" Methos sat up ramrod straight in the bed. "Alexa!" He threw the covers off and bolted off the bed. Where was she? They had just gone to sleep after dinner and making love. Maybe she's in the bathroom. His heart pounded hard in his chest. Gods, what if she was sick again. He hurried out into the hall and looked in the bathroom. She wasn't there. Panic enveloped his heart. He spun around and ran into the living room. "Lex! I can't find you!" Methos pulled up short when he saw Mac, Amanda, and Joe. What were they doing here in Santorini? "Where's Alexa?" Maybe she'd gone out on an errand; maybe they knew. "Have you seen her?" Methos looked to Joe, who was wiping moisture from his eyes. "Mac?" Duncan looked away. Amanda was the only one who could meet his questioning gaze. "Tell me where she is now, damn it." Amanda gestured for him to sit beside her on the sofa. He impatiently strode across the living room and take the seat next to her. "Methos, don't you remember?" "Remember what, Amanda? I don't have time to play your games," he started to stand. "Alexa's gone." Amanda tugged him back onto the sofa. "Alexa is dead, Methos. She died six years ago, remember?" "No! You're lying," Methos refuted. "Why do you want to hurt me, Amanda?" "That's the last thing I want to do," she tried to pull him close, but he evaded her. "You should know that." "Joe, tell her she's lying. Alexa's not dead," Methos looked to his friend for reassurance. "I wish I could," Joe's face was clouded by grief. "She's telling you the truth, Methos. Alexa's dead." "Why don't I remember? Shouldn't I remember something so important?" He tried to get a grasp on what they were telling him. She'd died six years ago? How was that possible? Had he left her to die alone? "Why can't I remember?" He didn't resist when Amanda's arms went around him. "She's really dead, Amanda?" She told him gently, "You were with her until the end." ~~~~~ The sand was hot. He had to have been tired, out here in the middle of nowhere. He had to be thirsty. A snake slithered sideways across the baking surface of the desert. Methos hoped that it was thirsty for human blood. That snake was the only thing living that Methos had seen in for he didn't know how long. He was certain that it was at least five day cycles that he had been lost, but he could have been dead through at least a couple more. It was times like these that it was interminably unfair to be immortal. Your suffering didn't end with the mortal death, when, if you believed in such things, could live out the rest of eternity in the after life. No, Methos' fate was to keep returning to the one that only consisted of heat, sand, wind. Methos had fallen days before, having stayed in the same spot. The right half of his body was covered in a mini dune that had formed since his last death. He was too weak to pull himself out of it. His mind was too far gone to even want to. The asp slithered closer to him, coming a foot away from Methos' nose. They stared at each other. Methos had no strength to move. If he had, he would have scared the snake in some way to make it snap its mouth around flesh and inject his poison into Methos' body. It would have hurt like hell, like fire was flooding through your body, but it would mean the only peace Methos had come to know. Death. Methos tried to lift his head, but failed in such a simple procedure. The asp was ready to move on. Methos couldn't let it leave without taking him with him. Methos yelled out. He knew that his voice was hoarse, unused, weak. He yelled even louder, then gathered enough adrenaline to move his left arm. It slammed into the snake without having a purpose. The asp hissed angrily. The last thing that Methos saw was the opened mouth with forked tongue and large fangs moving with lightening speed right into his face. All Methos could think was, "BITE ME!" ~~~~~ Methos was yelling so loud, so wild, and clutching his face so urgently, that Amanda awoke with a start. He had kicked out and she fell on the floor. It took her a minute to remember where she was and that she and Methos had fallen asleep on the couch. "It never ends!" he called out forcefully as he writhed on the floor. His fist pounded out his fury on the hard wood flooring. "I can't still be alive!" Duncan bounded down the steps into the living room and Amanda realized it was just another morning in the land of Oz. Methos cried out, still pounding the floor. Amanda looked up at Duncan and asked, "What time is it?" "We slept in. It's 7:30," Duncan took the chair next to the sofa. His hand rubbed away the sleep from his eyes. "Kate just called. They should be here later this afternoon." It killed Amanda to see Methos this way, but what could she do? He had to come to his own realization that he was still alive and that he was normally happy about it. At least he was pounding the floor and not her or Duncan or God forbid Joe. She hiked her legs up under her and sadly watched Methos slowly come around. "It's going to be another long day, isn't it?" she asked no one in particular. Duncan walked into the kitchen. "I'll see to it that we at least live through it on a full stomach." ~~~~~ SEACOUVER - SAME DAY Beth Merriweather ran like hell. Ever since the fire at the Watcher Annex and the death of all of her cohorts, the Watchers hadn't been certain about the reason for her captivity. The only orders to go with her arrest were that Chief Ecklund would be making out a report later. He was unfortunately killed before he had accomplished it. After being held for a couple of days with no charges filed, the Watchers had to return her freedom. As the guard opened the door to escort her to the outside world once again, she took off running. Over three miles later, she was still running and she'd continue running until she was far away from there. She only stopped running after she noticed the people she passed along the slippery sidewalk sending strange looks her way. She quickly ducked into a diner. Not sure if the Watchers were having her followed, Beth hid behind a newspaper as she waited for her waffle. Her life was a total wash. The Watchers had put her on probation, knowing there was a problem, but not the reason. She was assigned to a desk job in Chicago until she proved herself worthy to get another field assignment. Her only saving grace had been that Ecklund had never had a chance to file his final report. All evidence of the Methos debacle and her relationship with her assignment had burned to the ground along with the annex. The waitress delivered the waffle with strawberry topping and refilled her coffee cup. Beth sat and stewed over her bad luck as she cut the waffle into crumbs. Life wasn't fair! Geoffrey was murdered. Dawson would more than likely blow the whistle about her involvement with her immortal. Methos' friends rode to his rescue and she would be back to doing paperwork. The icing on the cake was no one had paid for their crimes. She forcefully sat her coffee cup down on the table splashing some of the hot liquid on her hand. "Son of a bitch!" she yelped drawing the attention of the other diners. "What the hell are you looking at?" she growled. She slammed some money down on the table and stalked out of the diner. Revenge was forefront in her mind. She had to get to her laptop to search the database to figure out where her adversaries had to be. They were probably out of the state and even the country by now. Patience was a virtue, she knew and if it meant getting her revenge, she'd wait it out. She also had to get home and clear out, in case the Watchers in some way, find out what was going on. Dawson was discrete with his friends, but Beth, unfortunately, couldn't count herself as one of them. ~~~~~ SEACOUVER INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT "Kate, you've never really said why it's so important that I come here to Seacouver," Cassandra stated as she and Kate stood at the luggage carousel. "Duncan's isn't in some kind of trouble, is he?" Kate fidgeted. "Well, he is and he isn't. Just trust me, we need your help." "Alright," Cassandra replied. She got the sneaking suspicion the younger woman wasn't being completely honest with her, but if Duncan needed her she had no other choice. "There are my bags," she walked over and grabbed two medium sized pieces of luggage. "Let me get one of those," Kate offered.  "Thank the goddess for luggage on wheels," Cassandra laughed as she handed over one of the bags. She pulled the handle up and rested her makeup bag on top of the bigger bag. "You would think I'd learn to travel lighter after all these years." "Duncan always teases me about how much stuff I pack for a trip," Kate related. "Guys don't realize what it takes for us to look good." "Men haven't changed much over the years, have they?" "Not much that I can tell," Kate took the lead. "I'm just parked two levels up." The wheels of the luggage droned along the textured floor. The women wove and dodged their way out of the crowded terminal. Once or twice they had to ignore the leers of a couple smarmy businessmen. They had almost reached the outside door when a harried traveler bumped into Kate and almost sent her sprawling. "Oh, I'm sorry," the woman apologized profusely. "I was paying attention to where I was going." Kate sat the suitcase back on its wheels. "Don't worry about it, really. It's so crowded in here anyway." The woman said, "Like I said I'm really sorry." Kate smiled at the woman and gestured for Cassandra to follow her. ~~~~~ Beth continued the walk to her gate. She glanced at her watch. Her collision with the woman had cost her five minutes. Her pace quickened when she realized she was only half way to her gate. She couldn't shake the feeling she'd seen the attractive woman somewhere before. Try as she might, she wasn't able to place a name to the face. She checked in at the gate and settled in a chair to wait for her flight. The paperback she'd brought with her to read didn't hold her attention for long. She shoved it back into her purse and rested her head against the wall. Maybe she'd be able to get in a catnap while she waited. She had almost dozed off when it came to her. The woman she'd almost knocked to the floor was Kate MacLeod! She had seen a picture of her when she'd been researching Amanda. Kate's husband's file had been linked to Amanda's. Beth had been curious about the woman who took her beloved's head that she'd hit the link and pictures of Kate and Duncan had come up along with information concerning them. How very strange she should run into her here at the airport. Beth straightened up in the chair. The other Watchers had been puzzled about the fire at the annex. Fire investigators had been convinced that it had been arson, but the secret society wasn't about to push for an insurance claim. They wouldn't risk revealing their operations to the outside world. Only certain someones had been privy to what had really gone in that building and knew that someone had set the fire to destroy the evidence confirming Methos' existence. Those someones more than likely included Kate MacLeod's husband and Amanda. Beth grabbed her purse and went in search of a payphone. She found one in a quieter corner of the terminal. Her fingers flipped through the phonebook and found the first number she needed and quickly deposited coins into the slot. Beth punched in the number and waited for the party at the other end to pick up. "Joe's Bar," a female voice answered. "May I help you?" "I certainly hope so," Beth smiled. "Can I speak with Joe, please?" "Joe's not here. He's on vacation."  "When will he back? I'm an old high school friend of his and I'm just in town a short while," Beth lied. "I'd love to see him while I'm in Seacouver." "He didn't say. You can leave message for him if you'd like."  "That's alright, I'll just call back later in the week."  She hung up the phone and searched for the other phone number that would confirm her suspicions. More coins were feed into the slot and another number was dialed. This time a male voice answered the phone. "DeSalvo's Gym." "Mr. MacLeod?" Beth ventured. "No, this is Brian. I'm the manager here. Can I help you?"  "I'd like to speak with Mr. MacLeod." "Mac's on vacation indefinitely," Brian informed. "Maybe I can help you instead." "No thanks, Brian. You already did." Beth decided that home could wait, revenge wouldn't. ~~~~~ Continued in Part Five