Grief

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws

Disclaimer: The characters of Connor MacLeod et al and the Highlander premise belong to Davis/Panzer Productions.� I have only borrowed them for a time, and hopefully return them none the worse for wear.

Grief
by Guinevere the Whyte

Connor poured himself a cup of freshly brewed coffee and sat down at the table to wait.� He'd picked up a few simple items on the way to the barge from the airport, knowing Duncan would hardly feel like eating after his arrival in Paris, much less shopping and cooking.� Grief always did that to you.� Connor had warned that boy long ago not to get too close to a mortal, because it always caused you pain in the end.� But just as Connor himself had done with Ramirez, Duncan had ignored Connor's warning.� Repeatedly� And here he was paying for it once again.

Connor deeply inhaled the fragrant scent of the rich black coffee, then sighed.� It wasn't as if Connor could rub it in and say �I told you so.�� It hadn't been that long since Duncan had stood by Connor's side at Brenda's funeral, in much the same way Connor would stand by Duncan at Tessa's grave tomorrow.� Like Tessa, Brenda had died tragically, too early.� But mortals always died too early, even from natural causes.� Brenda had managed to squirm through the 400-year-old fortress wall guarding Connor against relationships, and every now and then that mindset surfaced and he actually regretted getting involved with her.� But mostly he just missed her.� Connor didn't know what he could say or do to make coping easier for his kinsman -- just as he hadn't when Little Deer had been killed a hundred years ago -- but he was here.� He hoped it was enough.

The extended buzz signaled the approach of more than one Immortal.� Connor puzzled for a moment.� Ah yes, the boy.� Duncan had promised to keep an eye on him, had taken him in.� Now this boy -- Richie, wasn't it? -- was an Immortal too.� And he'd have to grow up pretty quickly.� Connor felt a twinge of sympathy; he'd been there himself, once.� Young and stupid and suddenly undamageable.� At least this one had some knowledge of what he was, what he had in store for him.� It was a good start.

Connor looked up as the door opened, then stood as Duncan and Richie trudged in with their suitcases.� Duncan's face showed no emotion -- hiding, Connor well knew, all the turbulence inside.� Connor nodded in greeting to Richie, who gave a silent wave in reply.� Duncan put his suitcase down as he stood before Connor.

�Connor.�� Duncan gave a slight nod, connecting eyes with his clansman.

�Duncan.�� The pair locked gazes for a long moment, then pulled one another into a brotherly embrace.� When they finally broke away, both had tears in their eyes.

�You'll live,� Connor said quietly, clasping Duncan's shoulder.

�I know.�� Duncan broke eye contact.� �I know you want to say �I told you so�...�

�No,� Connor interrupted.� �Not today.�

Duncan glanced at Connor, then gave a deep, unsettled sigh as he sat down at the table.� Connor silently signaled for Richie to make himself comfortable, retrieved a cup of coffee for Duncan, then sat back and watched his kinsman over the rim of his own cup.� There was nothing else to say, nothing else Connor could do but let Duncan grieve.� All he could do was be there if or when Duncan needed him.� After all, that's what family was for.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Feedback is always appreciated...you can do so here.

If you would like to leave a larger message, please use e-mail.

Return to Guin's Highlands

Read Fatherhood

Background courtesy of

Hosted by www.Geocities.ws