Date: Sun, 20 Aug 1995 00:07:30 EDT Reply-To: Russ McMillan Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Russ McMillan Subject: Hold Fast, part 8b/8 (End) Hold Fast, Part 8b by Russet McMillan mcmillan@astro.psu.edu Connor sat nursing his Scotch while Richie reclined across from him. Duncan appeared from behind the bar. "I found a hat," he announced. "Here." Connor regarded the knitted cap with distaste. "Thanks," he said glumly, and pulled it on. "Come on, man, you don't look so bad," Richie urged. "Heck, it's the first time I've ever seen you without beard stubble." Duncan spluttered over his drink. "Yeah, it's been a couple centuries since I saw you clean-shaven too." Connor glared at him. "I dressed up fancy for that party you dragged me to," he said. "What party?" "The one with Jane Austen." "Well, that's what I said, a couple of centuries!" The opening of the bar door cut off Connor's response. A harried-looking man came in, gave the three men at the table a nervous glance, and disappeared into the penetralia of the offices. "I guess that's the kid's father," Richie said. "We should have left him to explain to the police," Connor grumbled. "Or let him burn in the church." "Connor, he's just a stupid kid," Duncan protested. "Who hangs out with murderers. He's old enough to take responsibility for his mistakes." "And young enough to learn from them, too," Duncan pointed out. "He's not that much younger than Richie, here. Or Miranda." "Who?" "The girl who -- you know --" "Cut off your head? I know." All three turned as the door to the back swung open again, this time disgorging Nicky, his father, and Joe. Dawson started to lead the other two to the door, but the father stopped him and walked stiffly over to the table. "Mr. Macleod," he said to Duncan, "Joe tells me that you went to a lot of trouble for Nicholas, even after what he tried to do." He turned to Connor. "And I know you have good reason for a grudge against him, Mr. -- ah, Macleod." He looked flustered. "I just want to thank you both for giving him a second chance." Duncan nodded gravely, his eyes straying to where Nicky stood watching them uneasily. Connor just stared into his drink. Nicky stepped forward to his father's side. "Thanks, um -- for pulling me out of the fire. I know I didn't do anything to deserve it . . . " "Being human should be enough," Duncan said. "We all have to stick together." Nicky's face turned red. "Yeah. I, uh -- I guess I was pretty stupid." Connor raised his head and fixed the boy with his dark eyes. "I'm really sorry that, uh, that people got hurt." "People got killed," Connor corrected him. "You can't take that back with an apology." The blood drained from Nicky's face. His father looked torn between defending his son and seconding the harsh words. "I'm sorry," the boy whispered again. "I'm sorry." "You didn't kill them," Duncan said. "And you didn't put the guns in their hands. Just -- don't listen to people like Carver again." Nicky's father put an arm around his shoulders and led him out of the bar. Connor snorted into his drink. Joe looked from the retreating father and son to the three Immortals. "Look at it this way," he said, trying to inject a lighter note. "He's facing every teenager's worst nightmare. 'Uh, Dad, about the car . . .'" Duncan chuckled. "At least he has a father," said Richie with unexpected bitterness. "That's just it," said Connor, lifting his gaze to Dawson. "You stood up for the boy and protected him -- why?" Joe looked confused. "He's my nephew. My sister's kid." "Right. And now his father's going to protect him from the consequences. And his mother's going to make him feel better. He's safe in the bosom of his family. But what about the ones who don't have a family?" Joe studied the three faces around the table and came back to Connor. "Are you talking about someone in particular?" "Miranda Kelly," said Connor explosively. "I've got it all up here." He tapped his head. Duncan looked up. "You remember what you got from the Quickening?" "Yeah. This one was -- different. I remember. She was two years older than that boy that just left. Died her first death ten months ago. She was Drew Morgan's student." Dawson took a sudden breath in comprehension. "Do you know why I went after Morgan's head?" said Connor sharply. "He had a habit of killing new Immortals," Joe said slowly. "Without telling them why. Exactly. But what I didn't know when I killed him was that sometimes he does take a student. Like Miranda. He encouraged her to fall in love with him, told her all sorts of lies about Immortals -- told her we weren't human, _didn't_ tell her about holy ground, didn't explain about the Prize -- and he made her cut off the head of a man with his hands tied behind his back. He told her she had no choice but to be a murderer." "She was crying when she came after me," Richie remembered. "I kept trying to talk to her, but it was like she couldn't hear me." "Morgan drove her half crazy. He planned to take her head, eventually, when he was done with her. But first he had to have his fun." Connor's eyes bored into Dawson. "And there was no one there for her. No one to protect her. No one to give her a second chance. No family, no friends . . . that's what it means to be Immortal." "We make our own friends," said Duncan harshly, "and our own chances. She could have come to me." Connor shook his head and swallowed the last of his drink. He surged to his feet restlessly. "I've got to get out of here. I should get back to New York. Rachel doesn't even know where I am." Duncan opened his mouth, met Joe's gaze, and changed what he was about to say. "I've got your coat and katana in my car," he said. "Do you need any money?" "Thanks. I'll pay you back." Connor paused and looked at Joe. "I'm glad I met you. It's been -- interesting." Dawson shook his hand. Connor ruffled Richie's hair. "Nice meeting you, kid. Stick with Duncan -- he'll take you far." Richie grinned. "I know." "Duncan." "Connor." Duncan nodded back. Joe watched Connor leave. "Do you agree with him, Mac?" he asked slowly. "About second chances?" "I don't know why he's so upset for that girl," Richie put in. "If she had known about holy ground, he wouldn't have gotten his arm back." "I don't know, Joseph," Duncan said, as if Richie had not spoken. "I know we all tend to be shaped by our first teacher. If Connor hadn't found me, who knows how I would have turned out?" "It always seemed to me that getting a second chance is what Immortality is all about. You could cut off my head in a church, and it wouldn't make a damned bit of difference to this." Dawson rapped his cane against the plastic of his leg. Duncan sighed. "But would you give up your family to have your leg back?" Dawson just shook his head, unable to answer. Then he shrugged off the dark mood. "Well. I guess I'll see you tomorrow, Mac." Duncan's eyes narrowed with amusement. "I guess you will." Joe chuckled and waved his cane as he pushed through the back door. "Don't lose your head." =================================================================== =========================================================================