Date: Sat, 23 Sep 1995 00:18:17 -0400 Reply-To: GrinnyP@AOL.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Carol Ann Liddiard Subject: "Origins" Chapter 12, part 1 Ummm, this chapter may be slightly...controversial. Please don't hit me! -------------------------- "Origins" c. 1995 C. A. Liddiard Chapter 12 "For the thing which I greatly feared is come upon me, and that which I was afraid of is come unto me. I was not in safety, neither had I rest, neither was I quiet; yet trouble came." _Job 3:25-26_ --------------------- Hisarlik, @1,250 BC Methos walked across the ruined city, stepping lightly over the corpses that littered the landscape. He wasn't there to strip the dead, he was following the faint feeling that told him a new immortal was reviving. Deep within the area that had been a side street, he found the source. A small woman -- a child really -- was being raped by a small contingent of soldiers. All of the women in the city had already been taken captive, and he idly wondered how she managed to be left behind. he thought inconsequently. "Stand away from her, men," he ordered his soldiers. The men who weren't occupied whirled in surprise at the sound of his voice. One of them had the presence of mind to respond. "Sorry, general, just having a bit of fun." "I understand, but I still want you to move away." Methos replied in an even tone of voice. "Not until I'm done," laughed the soldier who was taking his turn at the young woman. "She's still got some life left in her." A moment later, his smile vanished as the point of a sword protruded from his throat. The girl, who had been silenced by the soldier's hand over her mouth, began to scream as blood sprayed everywhere. The other soldiers hastily backed away as Methos withdrew his sword from the hapless soldier's throat. He picked up the body and shoved it away from the girl, then turned to face the other men. "Did anyone else misunderstand me?" he asked, calmly. The remaining soldiers shook their heads and ran away. When he was sure there was no-one in sight, Methos turned back to the girl, who hadn't moved from the ground. She was tentatively smiling at him when his sword sliced through her neck. Emotionlessly, he watched the head roll away and waited for the quickening. The misty light rising from the corpse surrounded him, but something was wrong. Instead of being absorbed, the energy attacked, pain lancing from every part of his body it struck. Swinging his fists, he tried to fight the attacking mist, but couldn't connect with anything solid. Doubled over in agony, he screamed as the pain became too much . . . --------------------- Idaho Wilderness, 1995 *ADAM!* Methos awoke with a scream trapped in his throat, his lungs heaving as if he'd just run a marathon. He focused on the figure in front of him. It was Carol, also breathing heavily, and she was holding his wrists tightly. A red mark on her face attested to the fact that at least one of his blows had landed before she was able to restrain him. "Better now?" she whispered. Methos nodded, not trusting his voice. When she released him, he collapsed back onto his sleeping bag. He noticed that the bedding and his clothing were in great disarray from his thrashing around, and his body was covered with sweat. He shivered from cold and reaction as he reached up to caress Carol's already healed cheek. "I'm sorry." Carol sighed and leaned her head into his caress like a cat begging to be stroked. She placed a kiss in his palm and began to unbutton his shirt. "Come on, Adam, let's get you out of those wet things." He sighed and lay back as she proceeded to strip off his shirt. "You know," he said distractedly, "it wasn't the fact that she was a woman bothered me, because I had killed women before." "I know," she replied as she turned her attention to the button fly of his jeans. "It wasn't even the fact that she was the first female immortal." He still felt compelled to talk about it after all these years. "I know," she helped him out of his jeans, and turned her attention to straightening out the bedding. He closed his eyes and could still see the trusting look in the girl's eyes, her tentative smile. "It was what I saw when I absorbed her quickening." "Adam . . ." she shook her head but didn't say anything more. Carol gently ran a towel over his face and neck, and started to dry his hair when his hand shot up and stopped her. He sat up and waited until she met his look. "It was seeing myself through her eyes. For just a moment, she really thought that I had come to rescue her. That brief flash of hope that her nightmare was over." She laid her forehead against his and closed her eyes. "I swear Adam, we're a pair. One of us can't let go of guilt, and the other can't let go of a grudge." She sat back and sighed. "Who said wisdom comes with age?" He brushed her lips with his in a light caress. "Come to bed." Carol shed her clothes and they both snuggled into the sleeping bag. She propped herself up on one elbow and reached down to brush his hair away from eyes that were shadowed with memories. "So is this what you did while I was sneaking around the compound? Did you tell them the whole story?" "Some of it," he replied. "They were curious about my early life, but I didn't think they wanted to hear about Adam killing Eve." Fiercely she said, "Adam, when are you going to learn to tell people to mind their own business?" He chuckled at her exasperated expression. "Carol . . . " "Don't you 'Carol' me, Adam!" She whispered harshly. "I'm serious. You are still letting this eat you alive after three thousand years. I'm afraid if you don't come to terms with it, you're going to do something very stupid . . ." "Carol . . . " She plowed on relentlessly, her voice rising. ". . . Something even more stupid than offering your head to a near stranger out of some quixotic idea that it will somehow redeem your soul." "Carol . . . " "I can just see it now." She was no longer bothering to whisper. "You'll march right up to Horton and challenge him because you think you'll be protecting us and all it will get you is . . . mmmph." Methos interrupted her the only way he knew how, kissing her into silence. Carol resisted for a moment, then returned the kiss, her tongue tangling with his in a silent battle. He rolled them over, settling between her legs, and whispered in her ear, "Was there something else you wanted to discuss?" "Adam, one of these day I'm going to beat the shit out of you for doing that." Her words were harsh but her tone wasn't, and she ruined the effect by running her fingers lightly over his chest. "Promises, promises," he smiled. --------------------- Hisarlik, @1,250 BC Abesti stood quietly, watching the tableau unfold. Tears streamed down her cheeks, unnoticed, as she watched the man she had once called son slaughter the helpless female immortal. she reminded herself as she watched the man -- who referred to himself as Methos -- absorb the pitifully small quickening. She was turning to leave when unexpectedly Methos fell to his knees. she wondered. Puzzled, she opened herself up to see what was wrong, and flinched at the emotions she sensed roiling through the young man. she took a step in that direction when she realized that this was not the time to interfere. Sadly, she watched her adopted son stagger away, then reluctantly turned in the opposite direction. she mused as she left the stench of the dead behind. --------------------- Idaho Wilderness, 1995 "Mac?" "Wha . . ." Duncan tried to focus on the red-head who was leaning over him. He tried again. "What's up, Richie?" "She says to get up," Richie shivered in the chill air. "Man, it's dark out there." "Damn," he groaned and slowly crawled out of his sleeping bag. "I guess she's still not speaking to me?" "I don't know, Mac, maybe she's just busy getting things ready." Richie yawned and stretched. "I've got to go splash water on my face, or something. This is *way* too early for me." Richie staggered slightly as he left the tent, heading for the stream. Duncan looked longingly at the sleeping bag, then lurched to his feet to follow Richie. Once outside, he saw Carol sorting weapons and putting together packs. He looked around but couldn't see anyone else. He squared his shoulders and headed in her direction. "Where's Methos?" She didn't look up from her packing. "I'm letting him sleep a little longer." He opened his mouth to ask why, then changed his mind, not wanting to antagonize her now that she was actually speaking to him. "He didn't get much sleep last night," she answered his unspoken question as she pushed bullets into a magazine. "How good are you with one of these?" she tossed him one of the AK-47s. "Good enough." He gave the rifle a once-over and tossed it back. He shifted his feet awkwardly. "Um, I just wanted to . . ." She pushed her bangs out of her eyes and looked at him for the first time in a day. "Don't MacLeod, there's no need for you to apologize. I was worried, and when I get worried I get a little . . . touchy." he thought, then remembered her telepathy. Carol just smiled and shook her head. "Don't worry, Duncan, Adam tends to think the same thing, but he usually says it out loud." She stood and stretched, cracking her spine. "Where's your sword? You're going to need it." "In the tent. Do you want me to help strike the camp?" "No, we're leaving everything here except the weapons. If we survive this, we'll come back and pick the stuff up." She grinned at his expression. "I know, that's a comforting thought." (to be continued . . .) =========================================================================