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The River

Part Six: The Tale of the Green Fairy

Methos woke to the scent of coffee, his head fuzzy and aching. By the time he showered and dressed in jeans and a soft blue sweater, the worst of the headache was gone, and he was able to face coffee, at least. He followed the aroma to the kitchen, where Joe was sitting at the table. Methos poured himself a cup of coffee and joined him.

�What was in that bourbon last night?� Methos rubbed his temples and winced.

Joe laughed and said, �Nothing that wasn�t put in by the distiller, maybe I should�ve warned you it was one hundred proof. Did you sleep well?� There was a twinkle in his blue eyes.

�I don�t remember going to bed, but I woke up there, so I must have. As for sleeping, I was more unconscious than asleep, but I feel reasonably rested, so it�s all right. Did you ever get any rest?� Methos noticed in the daylight that Joe was looking a bit worn and tired.

�The funny thing is that I�ve slept better the past couple of nights, knowing Mac�s not in danger. The weeks before were worse. I was always worried that this would be the night someone killed him.� Joe�s raspy voice went somber.

Methos� face twisted in pain. �I should never have left him, he needed me.�

�I know that whatever happened was more than you could take, I saw what was going on, the way he was treating you.� Joe delicately avoided mentioning the violence. �I never blamed you for leaving, and I don�t think Mac did either. He seemed to blame himself, as far as I could tell. He just seemed to be in a world of hurt that he couldn�t find a way out of.�

Methos heard the concern and compassion in Joe�s voice, but it didn�t make him feel better about what he now perceived as his desertion of MacLeod just when he�d needed him most. He said bitterly, �Except the final way out, suicide. I�m afraid Mac isn�t going to thank us for saving him.�

�Let�s worry about that after we get him down. Do you feel like breakfast?�

�Not right now. Let�s stop somewhere on the way, later. It�s almost eleven, anyway. Ash will be here soon. She�s always on time, at least since they invented clocks.�

�About Ash...� Joe was hoping for the chance to ask a few more questions.

�The same rules as last night, Joe.� Methos sounded cautious, he had the feeling he had said too much last night, but he wasn�t sure exactly what he had said toward the end of the conversation. �I�m never drinking hundred-proof bourbon again,� he thought. �Especially on an empty stomach.�

�You said something about a self-made hell that she pulled you out of.� Joe was stretching the truth, but not by much.

�I must have been really drunk to say that, it�s not one of my better memories.� Methos was reluctant, but he didn�t know how much he had already told him. He shrugged his deceptively slender shoulders and shook his head. �It�s strange how history repeats itself, with MacLeod it�s Scotch, with me it was absinthe. After Byron and I went our separate ways, I settled in Paris. Come to think of it this city hasn�t been the best place for me.� Methos laughed ruefully, �I was supposed to be studying medicine; primarily I was studying absinthe and how much of it I could drink. Do you know what chronic absinthe intoxication can do?�

�I know that it�s illegal in France and most other countries. I occasionally get someone who asks for it, but I don�t know much about the effects.�

�They call it the green fairy, for me it was more of a green demon. It can cause hallucinations and psychotic episodes; they say Van Gogh cut off his ear while drunk on absinthe. I can tell you that it does all that and more. One of its ingredients is actually toxic to brain cells. I slid down into a depression, my behavior became more and more�� Methos sighed, ��demented is the only word I can think of. I would do things and not remember, things I did remember were so distorted they bore little resemblance to reality, and I just kept drinking.� Methos looked disgusted at the memory.

�I was out with some other students one night, we were all drinking, and we decided to go to a brothel. One of the students was able to get us into one of the finest brothels in Paris; his father had taken him there. I was already very drunk, and I had more absinthe when we got there. I went upstairs with this girl, there�s a blank, I suppose we did what you�d expect, and then I remember that she was lying there and I thought she was a cadaver that I was supposed to dissect. If had found a knife, I would have killed her. She sat up and I started screaming, thinking she was supposed to be dead. I was in a state of total psychosis. Some men ran in and held me down, I was hallucinating, naked and screaming.� Methos shuddered at the recollection.

�The next thing I knew I woke up in restraints, literally tied to the bed, and there was Ash, sitting there. I remembered going into convulsions so severe they were fatal, dying at least twice, and terrifying hallucinations. I remembered her soft voice, talking to me while I was delirious, telling me I was going to be all right, that I wasn�t alone, and her holding me in her arms, soothing me. She had been taking care of me for five days, while the poison left my body. Then she reached down into hell and retrieved my soul. She wouldn�t let me leave; she suspected I�d just start drinking again. She put me back together. She gave me her love, her body, and her...� here Methos groped for the right word, �...tenderness. I have lived five thousand years and I have never known such tenderness, such love. It�s strange that it comes from so armored a heart as hers. But then Ash is a study in contradictions, one century a madam of a brothel, another century a barefoot Carmelite nun, stretched out on a cold stone floor in prayer. I�ve found her in both roles and more.�

�What happened?�

�She went out one day and never came back. I thought that she�d finally met a challenger too good for her and lost, it was less painful than the alternative, that she�d run away again.� After a hundred and fifty years the wound was still so raw, it surprised him.

They both jumped, startled, when Ash spoke from the doorway, �You forgot thief, spy, and assassin, in your list of my accomplishments.� Ash�s voice was soft and filled with regret. �I�m sorry, Methos. It was easier for both of us that way.�

�Ash, I had hoped you were dead.� Now Methos� voice was soft with the memory of great sorrow. �It was easier to believe you were dead. It hurt less than believing you left me. I�ll never forgive you, Ash. I�ll never forgive you for taking yourself away from me.� Methos� golden-green eyes were simultaneously cold and strangely shining with tears he refused to shed.

�You knew how I was. How I still am.� Ash closed her eyes and turned her head away. �I can�t help it.� It was a flat statement of fact.

Methos stood up, strode to her, took her by the shoulders and shook her, making her look him in the eyes. �So you�re going to do the same thing to Duncan. Put him together, heal him until he can stand on his own two feet, then run away.� His voice was coldly accusing.

�It worked for you. You went back and finished your studies, you became a doctor, you stayed away from the absinthe, you�re still alive.� Her expression begged for understanding.

Methos� grip tightened until it became painful and he glared into her eyes. �I felt like dying for years. Why don�t you just rip his heart out, it would be far more kind.� He shook her again. �I�m warning you, Ash, if you hurt Duncan, I�ll take your head myself.� He spoke through gritted teeth.

�You can try, but remember, I always kill what I love.� The depth of anguish in her eyes made him let her go and back away.

�If you kill each other, who�s left to save MacLeod.� Joe was getting impatient, however interesting this was, it wasn�t getting Mac home. He stood up and said, �Let�s get going, I have the route planned. You�re going to need heavier clothes for the cold. We can stop somewhere.�

�No need, we can get whatever we need at the Nid d� Aigle tram stop, they have shops that sell whatever we want. Clothes, boots, whatever.�

�I hope my bank card doesn�t get maxed out,� said Joe.

�Don�t worry, I have three platinum cards and four gold cards, they�ll accept one of them.� Ash was offhand.

�Are they really your cards? I�d hate to get busted for theft.� Methos sounded skeptical.

�You should have invested in banking when I did, old man, I�m worth a fortune. Several fortunes. In several names. In several different countries.� Ash started down the hall.

�I didn�t know the Knights Templar were going to start the first international bank or I would have. I always suspected that you had a hand in the disappearance of the Templar treasure.� Methos followed her out.

�I put it to good use, anyway.� Ash was starting down the stairs.

Joe followed them, thinking, �Six hours trapped in a car with these two, I may kill them both.�

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