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The River

Part Twenty-Five: Light in the World

Ash had turned on the lights and was waiting on the quay when Joe pulled up. She walked over, Joe rolled down the window and said, �Methos is completely out of it. He was very drunk when he got in the car and he passed out on the drive over. I don�t know how you�ll get him inside, you can�t carry him and I certainly can�t.�

Ash smiled and said, �Duncan can carry him, I�ll go get him.�

Joe was pleasantly surprised. �Mac�s walking around? You got to him, didn�t you, with your hypnotic whatever-it-is.�

�Well, I got him to respond, and got in a few suggestions. I think he�ll improve now, but I can�t push too hard, or too fast.�

Ash went in to get Duncan. He�d got up when the phone woke him and was sitting in the same chair as before, in almost the same position, but appeared different, more *here* somehow.

�Duncan, please help me get Methos in. He�s outside in Joe�s car, passed out.�

Duncan raised his head, a concerned expression on his face. �Methos got drunk?�

�Yes, he did. He�s out cold, and I can�t carry him in.�

Duncan got up and quickly walked out to the Jeep He opened the door and had to catch Methos, if it hadn�t been for the seatbelt he would have fallen out onto the quay. Duncan reached over and released the belt, then lifted Methos tenderly, cradling him in his arms as he stood and turned to walk up the ramp to the barge, now moving slowly under the added weight of his limp body.

Ash had followed Duncan out and spoke to Joe, �Thanks for bringing him home, you�re always here when we need you.�

�I try to be, for all of you.� Joe was glad to see Mac up and responding, and hopeful that Ash had finally reached him. �Do you think he�ll be all right now?�

�It�s possible. He�s very strong; he might be able to fight off Kell�s influence with our help and support. We�ll have to wait and see.�

Joe nodded and put the Jeep in gear. �Take care.� His rough voice was soft, hardly carrying over the sound of he engine.

Ash smiled and waved as he drove off, it was only after he was out of sight that she allowed the worry to show.

Duncan had laid Methos on the bed and removed his coat. He began to take off the rest of Methos� clothes, thinking �How many times did you put me to bed? How many times did you pick me up off of the floor? How did I thank you? How many times did I hit you? How much have I hurt you?�

Duncan was crying silently as he undressed Methos� inert, unresponsive body. Methos was completely unable to help; Duncan had to move him, gently lifting him to remove his sweater. He recognized the sweater he�d given to him, the sweater he�d found behind the couch still faintly holding the scent of Methos� skin, the sweater he�d worn to what he�d meant to be his grave.

He remembered the day he gave Methos this sweater, the joy of seeing him wear it, and the greater joy of taking it off of his body that night. This body, this sweater, this bed, but it seemed so long ago. He�d been almost desperate to touch Methos� body, running his hands over his back and chest, kissing him, first his mouth, then down, following his hands. He�d moved down to his thighs, still caressing and kissing, and when he took Methos� hardness in his mouth Duncan could tell he�d surprised him almost as much as he�d surprised himself. It had always been Methos who did this to him, who took him into his body, into his mouth. Duncan had used his hands on Methos, he�d never wanted to do this before, had never wanted to taste another man�s cock, but he�d wanted to taste Methos, to give him the pleasure of this most intimate touch. He�d moved slowly, wanting to feel the silken skin against his lips, wanting to savor the sensation.

Methos had been so sweetly considerate, saying in a soft half-moan, �Oh Duncan, I�m so close, so close�� He�d warned Duncan so he could stop if he didn�t want him to come in his mouth, but he�d speeded up instead, taking him even deeper. Methos had come, and Duncan had been stunned by the rush of pleasure that went through him when he felt the throbbing contractions against his lips and tasted the creamy essence of his love.

Duncan�s conscience woke up and slapped him across the face with another memory, another time he�d taken this sweater off of Methos� body. He�d pulled it off while beating him, punching him until he was bruised and bleeding. Methos hadn�t fought back, had only looked at him with that hurt in his eyes, and he�d hit him until he was unconscious and couldn�t look like that any longer. Then he�d done something so unspeakable he couldn�t stand to remember any more.

He was sobbing, kissing Methos� face, holding him in his arms, saying brokenly, �I love you, I�m sorry, how can you ever forgive me?�

Ash came over and rubbed Duncan�s shoulders, saying gently, �You should tell him that when he can hear you, but I know he�s already forgiven you or he wouldn�t be here.�

She helped Duncan take off Methos� jeans, Duncan undoing the fly, then lifting Methos� hips, and Ash pulling them down his legs, followed by the light silk boxers. They tucked Methos in, and Duncan undressed and lay down beside him, holding him close, still crying softly.

Ash lay down next to Duncan, holding him as he was holding Methos, speaking to him quietly. �Donnchaid, he loves you, he forgives you, ask him yourself. Tell him you love him. It would make all the difference to him, to know that you love him.�

�How can I?� Duncan turned to her, his eyes filled with despair. �You don�t know what I�ve done to him.�

�Yes I do. He told me.�

Ash�s eyes were filled with understanding. Duncan could feel her compassion and it was almost more than he could bear.

�Oh God, how could I have ever hurt him?�

Ash put her arms around him, saying, �It wasn�t you, Donnchaid, it wasn�t you, Let go of it all, stop listening, stop hurting yourself, and sleep, sleep and forget.�

He heard the voice faintly telling him he wasn�t worthy of her compassion, but it faded out, as if it were going far away. It disappeared in the distance, and he could allow himself to let it go.

Ash held Duncan until she felt him relax and fall asleep, then she eased him out of her arms and got up, leaving them alone in the bed. She watched with a sad smile as Duncan turned over and nestled against Methos. She hoped he could fight Kell. If not, there would be only one way left to save him, and in the process she would lose herself. She went to the other end of the barge and lay down on the couch near the fireplace. She fell into the doze that for her passed for sleep.

Hours later, Duncan�s soft moans woke Methos. He was on his back and Duncan was laying on his side, close up against him, his arm across Methos� chest, his leg over Methos� legs, wrapped around him. At first he thought Duncan was having another nightmare, but the hardness pressing against his hip told him otherwise. Methos slowly turned to him and put his arm around him, then kissed the side of his throat and down to his chest. He was still drunk enough that his judgment was clouded, he knew he shouldn�t be doing this, that he shouldn�t push, but he couldn�t help himself; he needed to fill his hands with the touch of Mac�s skin, needed to give him pleasure.

He woke to the sensation of Methos lips and hands on his body. Duncan�s muscles immediately tensed, he was about to pull away out of reflex, feeling contemptible and completely undeserving of this caring touch. Methos held on to him, nuzzling and kissing his stomach.

�Please Duncan, let me do this for you, let me make you feel good, please, I want to so much.� Methos� voice had that breathless, aroused tone.

Duncan could hear the longing in that breathless voice, a longing that echoed his own aching hunger. He�d sworn to himself that he wouldn�t allow his need to overwhelm him, but this was Methos needing *him*. He was able to shut out the faded voice reminding him of how terribly he had hurt Methos, of how he could never be worthy of his love. He surrendered to Methos� need, not his own.

Duncan didn�t answer, but he relaxed and didn�t move away. Methos took this for consent and kissed his way down to Duncan�s weeping, tender cock. He took it in his mouth, gently running his tongue around the head, tasting the thick tears. Methos began to move, sliding him slowly in then out, only halfway, only short, gentle strokes. He knew Duncan had been so long without release that it would take very little stimulation to bring him to orgasm, and he was already so aroused. Methos wanted to give him pleasure for as long as possible, wanted to hold him, touch him, it had been so long since he had been allowed this rapture of touch, the bliss of this body under his hands, the ecstasy of the feel and taste of him in his mouth.

Duncan�s hands went to Methos� head, fingers in his hair, not guiding, caressing, allowing Methos to move however he wanted, accepting whatever he chose to do to him. Methos began taking longer strokes, faster, he couldn�t stop, he could sense how close Duncan was to coming. He wanted it to be good for him, intense, passionate, he wanted him to feel how much he was loved in this one sweet act of adoration. Duncan�s hands clenched painfully in Methos� hair, he was arching, moaning softly, helplessly, overcome by pleasure, and then he was coming, a hot shooting outward that started somewhere in the depths of his being and ended somewhere in infinity.

As soon as he was capable of it Duncan let go, pulled back, and rolled over, facing away, silent. Methos was about to move away himself, hurt, thinking, �I suppose I should be grateful you let me touch you,� when he heard Duncan�s muffled, ragged breathing and realized he was crying. Methos moved to him, taking him in his arms, rubbing his cheek against Duncan�s back, murmuring, �It�s all right, it�s all right...�

�How can you stand to touch me, how can you even look at me, how can you after what I did to you?� Duncan broke down into jagged, audible sobs. �I�m sorry, I�m sorry, I�m so sorry...� he turned around and clutched Methos with the desperation of a man drowning in the dark, hiding his tear-wet face against Methos� chest, repeating �I�m sorry, I�m sorry�� The sobbing grew until he could no longer speak, his body shaking with the force of it.

Methos was stunned by this sudden breakthrough, and the combination of shock, alcohol, and Duncan�s open emotion made him speak the words that had been restrained inside him for so long. He held him and rocked him like a child, saying, �Duncan I love you, I forgive you, all I want is to be with you and for you to love me and let me love you.�

Duncan was shaking his head, struggling to speak through his tears. He felt like something inside him was shattering, and the unseen hand had finally lost its grip on his throat. He was able to choke out, �You don�t understand, I *meant* to hurt you, I *wanted* to hurt you, a part of me took pleasure in hurting you! What�s wrong with me? How could I enjoy hurting you? And that�s not the worst of it,� he took a painful, shuddering breath, �Oh, God, Methos, *I meant to kill you and I don�t know why!* At the last moment a tear fell down your cheek and something inside of me screamed. It was like I somehow woke up and I pulled up the sword. I don�t know what�s wrong with me, and I�m so afraid I might hurt you again. *�Why do I want to hurt you when I love you?�*

Duncan forced out this wrenching confession, and his sobs shifted to a low, keening moan that frightened Methos with its intensity, while at the same time his heart was soaring. I love you. Duncan said he loves me. There was light in the world again.

�I would have let you kill me that night.� Methos held Duncan tighter, his own tears now falling. �You kept saying you didn�t love me, that you could never love me, that hurt me so much I wanted to die. I can bear anything as long as I know you love me.� Now it was Methos who was crying too hard to speak.

All Duncan could do was kiss him and say over and over, �I love you, oh Methos, I do love you,� his voice breaking and rough with tears, and every I love you was a drop of healing balm on the open wound in Methos� heart.

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