Date: Fri, 2 Dec 1994 14:50:13 -0600 Reply-To: Joshua A Reyer Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Joshua A Reyer Subject: Beginnings and Endings, Part Two Beginnings and Endings Part Two By Joshua A. Reyer Right, so this is part two. Upon rereading part one, I felt it was a bit too fast. I'm going to try to slow down the pace on this one a bit. Again, same universe rules as the first movie, no characters from the movie or series. ************************************************************************ London, England. 1607 A.D. "Aaaagh," Daniel groaned, covering his ears. He sat up groggily, pushing Andrige a few feet away from the bed. "Damn it all, Andy, don't scream again. My head feels like it's being pounded on by mallets." Andrige stepped slowly back, his mouth open in shock. "My God," he croaked. "My God, Daniel, you're not dead!" "What? What are you talking about?" Daniel shook his head to clear it. Placing his feet on the cold floor, the slight shock woke him up a bit more. He started to walk toward the doorway. Andrige grabbed his arm. "No, Daniel don't go out there!" "What the devil has gotten a hold of you, Andrige?" Daniel asked, getting angry. He yanked his arm out of Andrige's grasp and went out of the room. "Where are you going?" Andrige asked frantically. He looked out the bedroom window to see Rebecca and Mary conversing with the old man who'd brought Daniel home. The old man removed his hat, bowed, and returned to his carriage. "Where are you going?" Andrige repeated, following Daniel. "To the pantry! Ye god, man, settle down!" Daniel went to the pantry and got some bread and butter. He sat down at a table and began cutting off slices with his knife. "Where are all the bloody servants?" he asked, looking around. "Mum gave them the day off." Andrige answered. He was getting paler by the second. He reached a trembling hand to a chair and sat down. "Whatthewellor?" Daniel asked, his mouth full. "What did you say?" Andrige, asked not looking at his brother. "What the hell did she give the day off for?" Daniel asked, getting angry. He was getting tired of the game Andrige was playing. "Don't you understand!?" Andrige all but yelled. "Mary said you were DEAD! She saw you fall off the cliffs of Dover! You broke your neck! Your humors were completely off balance! You were dead! I brought your body up to your room!" Daniel rose, his eyes cold. He stared into Andrige's eyes, his anger now full upon him. "What utter nonsense is this? I never died! Look at me! I'm walking! I'm talking!" He threw his bread down on the table and stormed to the main entrance of the house. He met Rebecca and Mary as they walked through the door. "What is this drivel you are telling people, Mary?" Daniel roared. Mary stopped, her hand going to her mouth. Rebecca cried out in shock. And then Daniel remembered. The look on Mary's face, he'd seen it before. A look of shock, horror and helplessness. He'd seen before, just before the whole world had dropped away from his feet. He remembered now. In his mind, he was no longer in the house in London, he was at cliffs. He had slipped and now he was falling, falling. The tears were ripped forcefully from his eyes as he sped toward the ground. His mouth went completely dry. Then, an instant of intense pain, all over his body. Then, nothing. He'd thought it all a dream, but now with utter certainty he realized it was not. With a cry, he stepped back, lost his footing and fell to the hardwood floor. He looked toward Rebecca, his mother. But she was horrified, and would not go near him. Mary was too stunned to move, she, too, was paralyzed. Daniel's hand felt the leather of a boot. He looked up and saw Andrige. Andrige's shock had worn off, and now he regarded Daniel with the analytical mind he was famous in the city for. Reaching down, he grabbed Daniel roughly by the shoulders and stood him up. Then, he led him through the pantry and out the back way. Daniel looked at himself in a looking glass. What am I? he kept asking himself. He still looked like he ever did. 5 feet, 10 inches tall. Blue eyes, brown hair. He looked normal. Common, even. "Don't ask me, I have no idea how or why." Andrige said from the doorway. They were in a house in one of the poorer parts of town. Andrige had bought it with what money he and Daniel had on them at the time. "Why did you bring me here?" Daniel asked, his teeth clenched in frustration. "Because you are dead, my brother. No," he held up his hand as Daniel opened his mouth, "I don't care if you can walk or talk or what. The doctor signed the death certificate. You are dead, and all your holding now belong to me." "So, that is why you brought me here? To keep me out of the way so you can grab my inheritence?" There was no anger in Daniel's voice. He'd expected no more from Andrige. He'd heard most of his brother's words to him when Andrige had thought him dead. "Essentially, yes," Andrige continued. "Don't worry. This is a nice enough house for one of your finiancial resources. Don't come back to the house, either. I'm going to tell Mum and Mary that it was some lunatic that had stolen some of your clothes. That he'd only looked like you. You coming back would only make things harder. "You're not natural, Daniel. Whether by God's hand or Beezlebub's, you've returned form the dead, and I want no part of that." "What should I do?" Daniel's voice was humble, small. "Have a break from life. You've earned it." With that, Andrige left, and Daniel never saw him again. It was nearly night, and Daniel was feeling restless. He wanted to go and do something, but he didn't know what. He'd lived a sheltered life so long, he didn't know the first thing about surviving. He sat and looked out the window, looking at the commoners walking along the lane. He was one of them now, and it grated. He saw a man walking along the lane, carrying an archaic broadsword. The man moved along at a good pace, but he suddenly stopped in front of Daniel's new house. With sudden determination, he turned and walked up to the door. That's when it hit. An intense feeling of nausea. A pressure on the back of his head. His ears rang. He doubled over in pain. There was a crash, and the door fell off it's hinges. The man walked into the room, his broadsword naked in his hand. "I'm Lawrence McHenry. And there can be only one," he said, assuming an attack stance. That's when the storm started. *************************************************************************** Please e-mail comments! =========================================================================