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The River

Part Four: Methos

gone under two times.
I�ve been struck dumb by a voice that
speaks from deep
beneath the cold black water.
It�s twice as clear as heaven,
and twice as loud as reason.
It�s deep and rich like silt on a riverbed
and just as neverending.
The currents mouth below me opens up around me.
suggests and beckons all while swallowing.
It surrounds and drowns and sweeps me away.

But I�m so comfortable... Too comfortable.

shut up shut up shut up shut up
you�re saturating me
So how could I let this bring me
back to my knees again again again

under for the third time.
I�ve been baptized by your voice.
it screams from beneath the endless water.
and it�s half as high as heaven
and half as clear as reason.
it�s cold and black like silt on a riverbed.

But I�m so comfortable.
Far too comfortable.

Why don�t you kill me,
I�m weak and numb and insignificant,
and I�m back on my knees.
lost in euphoria.
I�m back down. I�m in the undertow.
I�m helpless and awake in the undertow.
I�ll die within your undertow.
It seems there�s no way out of this undertow.

Euphoria.

Methos stopped writing and closed his journal. The train ride from London to Paris seemed endless, and gave him far too much time to think. Joe had called him and delivered the simple message, �If you care about MacLeod be at the club by one tonight.� That was it; he�d hung up before Methos could say a single word. He debated calling him back, asking him what the hell he thought he was up to, but there had been a frightening note of finality in Joe�s voice, and he decided against it. He knew it must be bad news and he felt a tension in his whole body, the urge to fight, but there was no one to fight, nothing to hit. Hitting. There had been too much of that. Methos� memory was unbearably clear. He could remember every one, every time that look came into Duncan�s eyes, and then the pain and the shame, which hurt far worse. Shame that he would allow it to happen. Shame that he would stay for more. But there were worse things than being hit.

Methos remembered the night he left MacLeod. He wished he could forget.

�Come here, Methos, I want you.� Duncan�s voice had been harshly demanding.

�No. Please, Duncan, you�re drunk. I don�t want to make love with you when you�re like this, you make me feel dirty when you�re like this.� Methos had loathed the pleading tone in his voice.

�That�s because you are dirty, and I never said anything about love. I could never love you. I just want to fuck you.� His voice had been so cold.

Duncan grabbed him, tore the clothes from his body, and backhanded him across the face, knocking him down onto the bed. Then he jerked him roughly into position on his knees, spread his cheeks, and viciously rammed his cock into Methos hard, thrusting him wide open without any preparation.

Methos had felt ripped apart, not just his body, all the way to his soul. He�d heard himself scream as Duncan rammed into him with rhythmic brutality, blood pouring out, staining the sheets, running down the back of Methos� thighs and covering the front of Duncan�s. After what seemed like forever in hell, Duncan groaned and came, then pulled out and left him bleeding.

�That�s all your good for. Remember that. Now I need to wash your filth off of me.� MacLeod had gone to the shower.

Methos had lain on the bloody sheets; sobbing, heartbroken, knowing he had to leave. Any more of this and he would have to kill MacLeod, and if he did that he might as well kill himself. �I could never love you.� It echoed in his head over and over in that cold voice. He closed his eyes, willing himself to forget, telling himself �It was the alcohol that made him hurt me, he doesn�t really hate me,� but he wasn�t sure. If he didn�t love him so much�but he did. He loved Duncan so much it was close to pain, a sweet pain that filled his chest just thinking of him. Only now it was sheathed in icy fear. Fear of what he would find in Paris.

Methos had to knock on the door of the club, it was locked, a closed sign stuck to it. Joe let him in, and relocked the door.

�What the hell is this all about?� The fear made Methos speak more harshly than he�d intended.

�I don�t really know. MacLeod is missing. I went to the barge, he wasn�t there, and the barge was all cleaned up. It looks like he�s left Paris.� Joe had been about to tell him about Ash when there was a knock on the door. Joe went over and let Ash in.

She dropped her backpack at the door, walked into the light and faced Methos.

�You!� Methos� hand went inside his coat for his Ivanhoe, pulling it out swiftly. �I had *so* hoped you were dead.� His voice was full of cold fury, his green-gold eyes blazing.

Ash�s right hand went behind her shoulder and drew her falcata instinctively, the reaction so fast she seemed startled to find it in her hand. �This isn�t necessary.� She let the blade drop, pointing at the floor.

�That�s your opinion.� Methos rushed her, sword raised.

Ash stood her ground, her only movement a tightening of the fist that held her sword, still pointing down. There was no fear in her eyes, only that golden distance. She was calm. It was all in the hand of fate. Everything was in slow motion; she had the time to think, �We will both rest now, Duncan.�

Instead of striking, Methos held his blade to her throat. �Give me one reason not to kill you.� His voice was a furious growl.

�If you kill me, you kill Duncan MacLeod.� She sounded serene.

�What have you done to him?� He drew the blade across her throat just enough to cut.

�Nothing, he did it to himself.� Still serene.

�Where is he?� He hissed, pressing the blade into her throat, making the wound deeper.

�Don�t worry, he�s safe and not going anywhere.� She seemed to not quite be present, as if the distance in her eyes had taken over her whole body.

Methos looked deep in those eyes. �I�ve seen her die, I�ve seen her screaming in agony and ecstasy, but I�ve never seen her like this.� The worst of his anger somehow evaporated and he lowered his sword.

Ash didn�t notice. She was gazing into a far horizon that only she could see. A horizon that was hemmed in by electrified barbed wire. She blinked and was back; she saw the sword was gone from her throat and the way Methos was looking at her. She knew it was useless to try to hide what had happened.

�What�s wrong, Ash? What�s happening to you?� Methos spoke coldly. He could see a bone-deep exhaustion in her, she was covering it, but he knew her too well.

�I don�t know. It doesn�t matter.� Her voice was flat. She gave up trying to conceal her fatigue, absently sheathed her sword, and sat in the nearest chair. She put her elbows on the table and her head in her hands. �I�m just tired, and this isn�t about me, it�s about MacLeod.�

Joe decided it was safe to come over. He sat at the table and handed Ash a damp towel. She wiped the blood from her neck. That wound had healed. Methos remained standing, although he sheathed his sword.

�What did he do?� The fear was audible in Methos� voice.

�He killed himself. He intended it to be permanent, but he can be saved.�

�How did he...� Methos couldn�t say the words.

�It was brilliant, after all, how do you kill yourself when you�re Immortal? It�s not like you can rent a guillotine, our options are rather limited. He went up Mont Blanc and buried himself in the snow, high up. I watched him.�

�You didn�t try and stop him?�

�Stop him? I wanted to join him; I wanted to lie next to him, my arms around his frozen body forever.� Ash didn�t articulate the thought. Instead she sighed and said, �I didn�t feel I had the right to interfere.� She pierced Methos with her eyes, golden amber into golden green. �Now it�s your turn to give me one reason. One reason why we should interfere. One reason why we should try to make him want to live. One single fucking reason to drag him screaming back to this hellhole of existence. Because I can�t think of one. What does he have left? Alcohol and loneliness.� Her tone was rougher than usual.

�He has me.� There was pain in Methos� voice and on his face.

�I followed him for weeks. I never saw you. I saw MacLeod stagger through the streets, unarmed, so drunk he didn�t know what he was doing. I saw him die of alcohol poisoning. I saw him in despair, with no one left to care.� She looked apologetically at Joe. �Sorry, only one left to care.�

�It seems to me that there were two who cared, or else why were you following him for so long. You were guarding him. Protecting him. You don�t do that for someone you don�t care about.� Joe�s voice sounded uneven with emotion. �And don�t blame Methos for leaving, Mac was...�

Methos interrupted quickly, �It would seem to me that there are three of us who care for MacLeod.�

�Do you think that�s enough? Do you think we have enough love to bring him back from death?� But Ash was thinking �I hope you do, because I�m not sure I have anything left, I have been empty for so long.�

�It has to be. MacLeod is too important to lose.� Methos finally sat down.

�I only hope we can make him feel that.� Ash sounded unsure.

�We can try like hell. Now we have to figure out how to get him off the damn mountain. Obviously it will have to be at night.� Methos began to plan. �Joe, we�ll have to use your car. It takes about six hours to get to Mont Blanc, so we should leave here at eleven.�

�It has hand controls, so I�ll have to drive. We should get some sleep and start fresh in the morning. Methos, you can stay here, or you could stay at the barge. Or Ash could.� Joe suggested.

As if they were on the same wavelength the same thought ran through both their minds, �To lay in Duncan�s bed, surrounded by his scent, I would never sleep.�

Ash stood and was the first to answer. �No, thank you, I have a room. I�ll meet you here at eleven. Goodnight, Joe.� She looked at Methos, her face unreadable, and walked out.

Joe had a thousand questions he wanted to ask, but be found himself blurting out the most personal one. �Why did you want to kill her?�

Methos managed to look tired, angry, and sad, simultaneously. �It should be obvious. I once loved her. No more questions, Joe. Let�s go and get some rest. We have a lot to do tomorrow.�

They went upstairs to Joe�s apartment, turning out the lights.

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