Date: Mon, 20 Feb 1995 01:03:59 -0500 Reply-To: mikester@BIX.COM Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Mike Breen Subject: THE CHANGELING - PART IX X-cc: 1-9904@terranet.bluethun.quake.com Nancy was right. Rebecca moved right in to the townhouse. She had put most of her furniture in storage and shared Patrick's bedroom. Patrick joked that the three Immortals must be keeping the storage company in business. She did take over a spare room off of the workout room that Patrick had been using as a den for her art studio. She moved several canvases in, both blank and half-finished, along with all her supplies. Nancy, despite her earlier reservations about the other Immortal moving in, became fast friends with Rebecca. She admired her paintings, which now adorned several rooms (Patrick had one special one in the living room for years. It was a landscape of the Irish countryside near where he was born). And there were things she could tell Rebecca, simply because she was a woman, that she could never tell Patrick. Patrick told Nancy and Rebecca he was the luckiest man in the world to be living with the two most beautiful women in history, who would never age. Rebecca told him to knock off the bullshit, the arrangement had more to do with "Three's Company" than anything else. But having Rebecca there took some of the burden off of his shoulders. He could leave Nancy with Rebecca and not be worrying that Riley would come for her. He also wondered if Nancy, since she was right about Rebecca moving in, also wasn't right about the other thing she had mentioned. Why _do_ they bother with mortals, when they've known eachother and have been on-and-off lovers for seven hundred and ninety eight years? They both have fallen into a pattern, established seemingly before they even knew eachother, of loving mortals, losing them, finding solace in eachother's arms, moving on, loving and losing mortals again, and again finding eachother, and on and on. Maybe he was just fooling himself all these centuries and attempting to ignore what was there, in front of his eyes. Maybe the soulmate he had been searching nearly eight hundred years for had been found, before the search had even started. Maybe. He loved Rebecca, of that he had been sure, the moment he first lay eyes on her on that farm in France, so long ago. But committing his life to an Immortal was something that Ramirez had warned him against. Still and all, Ramirez had warned him against falling for mortals, and he had gone on to marry four of them, and nearly five. He and Rebecca had centuries together, but just not all at once. There was a time where they had been together over a consistent century and a quarter, after he had returned from his century and a half in China. The thought of pledging themselves in marriage had not come up, but, a century and a quarter _had_ passed before Patrick expressed a desire to see the New World, a desire Rebecca had not shared. If she had, things may have been very different. Still, there _was_ a difference between informally living with someone for a century and a quarter, however monogomously, and marrying an Immortal for eternity, or at least until the Gathering. And there was the Gathering as well. What _would_ happen if he and Rebecca were the last two? Rebecca was having much the same thoughts as Patrick. Maybe it was time they settle down together. The century and a quarter they spent together was among the happiest of her life. She, too, had fallen for him the moment they met. They were, as she had said so long ago, two kindred spirits. But their relationship was so good that the thought of changing it frightened her. If he mentioned it, she would let him know what she thought. If he didn't, however long they were together this time, she wouldn't as well. January ended and February brought only one major snowstorm before President's day. Not a word was heard from or about Riley in that time. Rebecca broached the subject only once at dinner one night. "Maybe he's left," she said. "Maybe he decided it wasn't worth it, since I'm here now." "Maybe," Patrick said. Nancy was rather taken aback by how neatly Rebecca fitted into hers and Patrick's lives. It was as if she had been there all along, since the night she died. One morning, just after the snowstorm, while Rebecca was still asleep, she broached the subject to Patrick. "Rebecca and I have known eachother our entire Immortal lives and we've been together through much of it, you know that. Why does that bother you?" "_That_ doesn't. What bothers me is how _I_ relate to her. It's as if she's..." "Like your mother?" Nancy nodded and said, "Though like no mother I ever knew." "Nancy," Patrick said, "somewhat against all of our wills, we've developed a family unit here. Rebecca and I are like the parents and spouses, you're like the offspring. What you feel towards us, what we feel towards you is normal. It's normal Immortal Student/Teacher feelings. Ramirez _was_, in many ways, _more_ of a father to me than my _own_ father. Rebecca _and_ Connor will tell you the same thing. And what Rebecca and I feel towards eachother, if it's not love, it's something close to it. We're on-and-off companions, lovers, yes you could say spouses, and it's easy to fall back into the relationship once we come together again. Finding you and getting back with her was all co-incidence. It just happened to all happen in a few weeks. We've developed a family by accident. Just accept it and be happy that the three of us _have_ eachother." SALSBURY PLAIN, ENGLAND, MAY 1201 "It's Holy Ground, isn't it?" Patrick said. "Aye, Brother," Ramirez said. "It reminds me of... of Aoife..." "She was part of our lives, Patrick. Never forget that. And yes, this _is_ similar to Aoife's shrine. Henges like this one were used throughout the isles. We will stay here a while and rest." "Where are we going?" Rebecca said. "Scotland. I wish to try and find someone in the Highlands." Neither Patrick nor Rebecca argued with their Mentor. He said they were going to Scotland. They would follow him across the Atlantic ocean and off the edge of the world if that's where he wanted to go. They made camp, Rebecca and Patrick sharing their sleeping arrangements, Ramirez sleeping near, but out of sight. That night, they settled down to sleep. Once Patrick was sure that Rebecca was asleep, he disentangled himself from her and went over to Ramirez. "Brother?" he said, "are you awake?" Ramirez groaned and said, "Now I am. Whatever it is can wait 'till morning." "Nae," Patrick said, "it can't. For... in the morning... I intend on asking Rebecca... for her hand." Ramirez was fully awake now. He stared at Patrick's face in the firelight. "You'd be making a grave mistake, Brother." "Why? You said _mortals_! Don't fall in love with _mortals_!" "That's _not_ what I said, young whelp!" Ramirez hissed. "Do not _ever_ twist my words around again for your own means." Patrick lowered his head and said, "I am truly sorry." "Apology accepted. Now, what I said was I would spare you the pain of death." "But Rebecca is one of us." Ramirez nodded and said, "And what will happen centuries from now when you wake up tired to the death of eachother? Think of it, Patrick, centuries, even _melinnia_ with her. With _one_ person. Marriage is wonderful for several decades, even a century or two, but for eternity? I know that love is supposed to be eternal, but let us be practical. Nae, if you want this woman that much, which I know you do, and if she wants you that much, which I know she does, you'll have a relationship that is monogamous when you're together, but not be together for more than a few decades to a century at a time." "What's to say I can't marry her _now_ and if we cannot stand eachother in a few centuries, stage our deaths and be done with eachother?" Ramirez sighed and said, "There is something you are forgetting, Brother. The biggest reason to prevent you from marrying her. Have you forgotten it? There can be only One. What happens if you are the last two?" Patrick was silent. There was nothing he could say. Once again, Ramirez was right and had stopped him from doing something foolish. But Ramirez smiled at him and said, "If you want her, if you want to be with her, than _be_ with her. Be together until before it begins to grow tiresome. Then separate and come together again a century or so later. Your love for eachother will survive that way." "Thank you, Brother," Patrick said, and headed back to bed. What Patrick didn't know was that Ramirez and Rebecca had the same conversation two nights previous. Ramirez felt for the two young Immortals, both so obviously depressed at Ramirez's wisdom. So he posed the idea that as they traveled, and for the decades the two were together, Patrick and Rebecca would be eachother's spouses. No one would have to know that they were never officially married. Patrick and Rebecca were overjoyed at Ramirez's suggestion and agreed immediately. If marriage and Immortality were incompatible, so be it. The Immortality could not be removed, so the marriage would have to be modified. "All-but-wife" and "all-but-husband" would have to do. From that day on while they traveled together, Ramirez would introduce Patrick and Rebecca as either his son and daughter-in-law, or his daughter and son-in-law. The three of them traveled together for the next twenty years throughout Europe and northern Africa until Ramirez set them off on their own travels. Patrick and Rebecca stayed together for another fifty years. But they both remembered Ramirez's words, and decided to separate for a time. Patrick returned to England, and Rebecca went to one of the German states. They vowed to find eachother whenever one needed the other. And Ramirez said that he would always have a place in whatever household he himself was in. So long as _they_ didn't need to be away from him more than they needed a place to live... BOSTON, MASS, UNITED STATES, FEBRUARY 1995 "I'll see what's in the freezer," Nancy said to Rebecca. Patrick had gone to a meeting at Harvard, apparently they wanted him to return. Rebecca and Nancy were on their own that afternoon. The doorbell rang and Rebecca got up to answer it. "Good afternoon," said James Thomas Riley from the doorstep. He covered his mouth and sprayed Rebecca with a gaseous mist. She dropped to the floor. He stepped over her and made his way to Nancy. "At last we meet, young cub," he said. Nancy gulped, knowing full well who he was. "You're going to kill us, right?" "Temporarily at first. Then permanently when Daddy is gone. This is an idea I got from an Immortal named Xavier. He cheated too." He sprayed Nancy with the mist. Patrick returned to an empty house. "Nancy? Rebecca?" No one answered. He looked around the main room for signs of a struggle, or of the Quickening. There were none. But there was a message on his machine. He pressed play, the tape rewound, and Riley's unmistakable voice emanated from the machine. "You didn't think I could do it, did you? Don't worry, they're not permanently dead yet. But if you don't want that to happen, listen carefully. There is an old abandoned warehouse on the waterfront scheduled for demolition by the Big Dig crew. Come at eight. Not a minute before. I'll be waiting." The night was, like the rest of the week, unseasonably warm and dry. The snow melting by the side of the road was covered with mud tracked by the dozens of construction workers and equipment working on the Third Harbor Tunnel. The warehouse was inside of a "Central Artery/Third Harbor Tunnel" fence. Patrick parked his car and looked around. There were no signs that anyone was around. He struck his sword against the chain keeping the gate closed, and it sprung open. He did the same with the entrance of the warehouse, and walked inside. It was dimly lit, but he could see the two figures in the middle of the warehouse floor tied to a support beam. How cleche, Patrick thought, that he couldn't even think of an original way of keeping them here. He walked over to the two figures, when a third emerged from the dimness, placed a sword against one's neck, and said, "Drop it, or the cub dies." "_Please_ do what he says, Patrick!" Nancy said. Patrick dropped his Katana on the floor. "Good," Riley said. "Now, kick it over here." "Let them go first," Patrick said. "No. I can't do that." "Fine. Let's take a look at what you've done here, Riley. You have them. You also have me. But I'm within reach of my sword. I _won't_ kick it over to you until you untie them. You won't untie them until I kick my sword over. Now, if I don't, you'll kill one, or both of them. Right?" "Yes." "Ok, now stay with me here. As you're absorbing the Quickening of one, I'll pick up my sword and behead you as soon as it's over. You can't win that way, so untie them." Riley sighed and cut their bonds. Nancy and Rebecca stood. "Now," he said, "The sword." "Don't do it, Patrick," Rebecca said. Patrick kicked his sword in Riley's direction. Riley walked over towards Patrick and said, "Now it ends, Irelander. There can be only One." He lifted his sword and swung. Patrick rolled out of the way on the floor, unfortunately not in the direction that his sword lay. He kicked Riley hard in the abdomen. Riley went sprawling back. Recovering, he swung at Patrick's neck again, distancing him even further from his Katana. "We have to help him," Nancy said. "We can't," Rebecca said. "It's against the Rules." Patrick dodged Riley's swings, and punched him as best as he could. Riley swung the blunt end of his sword like a club at Patrick's abdomen, causing the Irelander to collapse to his knees. He knew if he couldn't get to his sword soon, he knew he wouldn't be able to keep this up, and keep his head. "He's _unarmed_," Nancy said. "Isn't _that_ against the Rules?" Rebecca turned to Nancy. "Do it." Nancy, seeing that Riley was absorbed in the fight, ran over towards Patrick's Katana and slid it across the floor in Patrick's direction. Patrick, by this time, was winded and still on his knees. Seeing the sword, he placed his hands comftorably around the hilt. "Fitting," Riley said. "I hear Ramirez died on his knees defending one of his cubs." He swung at Patrick's neck. Patrick brought the sword up, blocking Riley's swing. He then weakly stood, still with the blades locked, easily enveloped Riley's blade and disarmed him. Then, with one hand on his knee and the other at Riley's neck, he said, "There can be only One." He swung, severing Riley's head from his body, and collapsed in an exhausted heap on the warehouse floor. The Quickening leaked, slowly at first, from Riley's body. Then it exploded. It shattered windows, all the lights, and exploded against the support pillars and walls. And Patrick writhed on the floor, screaming in pain and delight. Riley's memories came and went, easily held at bay. But the memories of the young Immortals, dead at his hands, were not so easily brushed aside. The confusion, fear, wonder, and newness of them all threatened to overwhelm him. There were so _many_. Patrick closed his eyes, fighting for his very soul. And when it was over, he opened them to see two very concerned beautiful Immortals leaning over him. One he did not know, but the other looked familiar. His teacher, perhaps? But then the disorientation faded, and he was Patrick O'Brien once again, and once again, had kept his soul. And through it all, one man had Watched. "And that was the Quickening?" Nancy said as the three of them sat in the living room later that night. "Yes," Patrick said. "That's why Michelle left." "I can understand why," Nancy said. "I don't know if I can do this, Patrick. _Talking_ about it is one thing. _Doing_ it is quite another." "You'll be able to," Rebecca said. "It's what we are." "And," Patrick said, "There's a _lot_ of other things we can do besides kill eachother. Rebecca's been several artists you may have heard of. I fought in the American Revolution. We've both lived through a _lot_ of history, and can tell you about it. It's a great gift you've been granted, Nancy. And before long, the fighting won't seem so bad." "Patrick," Nancy said. "I'm sorry... for telling you to do what Riley said. I was so scared..." "Think nothing more of it," Patrick said. "You _were_ scared. You have that right. But you also saved my life by tossing me my sword." Nancy smiled, and decided to say nothing more of it. And Patrick took Rebecca's hand and placed his arm around Nancy's shoulder. He was exhausted from the fight, which was as physically draining as any _real_ swordfight. As he drifted off to sleep, there on the couch, he thought that in a way, Nancy was right about it being strange that they had fallen into kinds of family roles so quickly. But he wouldn't trade it for the world. <<>> (c) 1995 Mabnesswords As usual, e-mail milester@bix.com with any comments. And they're greatly appreciated! =========================================================================