========================================================================= Date: Tue, 23 Apr 1996 20:30:06 PDT Reply-To: Laura Meizel Sender: Highlander TV show stories From: Laura Meizel Subject: Furthest Inward, Part 1 Disclaimer: All characters from Highlander the TV series are borrowed without permission, and no copyright infringement is intended. Author's note: This is a postcript to the fourth season episode, "Leader of the Pack". Although Richie and Duncan talked about the decisions they'd both made, some of the emotions didn't really seem resolved. Richie had an incredible amount of anger in him in that episode and it seemed unlikely that it would just vanish. A scene seemed to be missing. So I wrote one. :) Also, I wanted to write a scene with Richie and Anne, since their parting when Richie leaves Paris hinted at a strong friendship. The first scene goes back to when Anne came to Paris to be with Duncan. Feel free to send any comments or feedback to aeron@deeptht.armory.com. Furthest Inward by Laura Reeve Part One: ******** Winter, 1995, Paris. (middle of episode titled "Testimony") Duncan had left for a while, but Anne knew he needed some time to think. That was fine with her, because she had some thinking to do, too. How she was going to convince him that he wasn't going to send her home. Why was he doing this? His attitude seemed more than a little unreasonable, especially after bringing her here, explaining who and what he was. After trying to read the same page of a book about five times without success, she looked up to see Richie standing at the porthole window, apparently gazing out at the water. His shoulders and back were tense and stiff, and she got up and went over to him, putting one hand on his shoulder. "Richie? What is it?" she asked softly. "It...just seems so familiar. Anne, did Mac tell you about Tessa?" "A little." she replied, making it a question. He took in a deep breath and let it out slowly, turning to look at her. "There were times when Tess was used as bait to get to Mac. He tried to protect her, and it was her choice..." he went on. "She knew what she was getting into and she accepted that and all. It's just that she died because someone was trying to hurt him." Richie's voice was unsteady for a moment, and he took another deep breath to calm himself down. "If they hadn't been using her as bait, she wouldn't have been there, and she wouldn't have been shot. Actually, neither would I." He gave Anne a lopsided, sad smile. "That's when you became immortal? Oh." She stood there, trying to absorb all the information he'd just given her along with all that Duncan had told her. "So he's trying to keep me from getting hurt. Or killed. Like Tessa..." Anne shook her head in frustration. "Hey," Richie said then, taking her hand. "It's your decision. I know that...he really loves you, y'know. It's just that you guys arguing about that brought back a few memories for me. Probably for Mac, too." He froze suddenly, eyes glancing quickly around the barge, and she watched him, remembering what Duncan had told her about sensing other immortals, and wondering what it must be like. "Richie? It's Duncan, isn't it? You can feel when he's here?" "Yeah. I think he's up on deck." He squeezed her hand gently. "You should go talk to him." ******** (24 hours after "Leader of the Pack ends.) Duncan watched his students leave the classroom from where he leaned on the edge of the table. As he handed the last of the students her graded paper, the phone by the door rang. He snagged the receiver with one hand and his briefcase in the other. "Hello? Anne! Are you okay? Is the baby...?" "I'm fine, Duncan. It's Richie... " ******** Ten minutes and three skipped traffic lights later, Duncan was at the door to the dojo; he sensed Richie's presence and started through the double doors, but Anne intercepted him, putting a hand on his arm. "Duncan..." she began softly, looking over to where Richie was at the punching bag, without gloves, the only one left in the workout room since it was after closing time. The younger immortal's hands were covered with blood, which streaked his face along with tears. He didn't seem to notice either the abrasions or the blood. "I think he's been at it for a while." Anne said quietly. "I came to visit you guys and I found him like this. I don't think he's stopped for over an hour... it heals and then just happens all over again...he doesn't notice anything else...I tried, but he didn't hear me. I figured I should call you." Duncan looked back down at her, face softening into a smile, and kissed her on the forehead. "Thanks." She headed toward the door and then stopped and turned back to him. "I have to go on shift in twenty minutes, but call me later?" she asked. Duncan nodded and she went out to her car. Standing a few feet away from Richie, Macleod looked at him carefully. He remembered a few times in his own life when he'd gone into what was essentially a working trance, doing katas or something else until he'd lost track of time. And he remembered the reasons... ******** The winter of 1814, France The axe flashed in the sun, again and again, the rhythm seeming to match the beating of Duncan's heart. The dull thud of the blade biting into the half-frozen wood gave him something to focus on other than the memories from the battlefield. The problem was, he thought, somewhere in the part of his mind not focusing on the axe, nothing would really make him forget. Darius' words had made this day of battle somehow different than the others. More vivid. The screams of pain, the nauseating sound of steel striking flesh, the explosions and fire ripping through the snowy fields. So he kept cutting wood for Darius and the other monks, letting the repetitive action take up all the energy he had left, hoping to forget. So he wouldn't have to think about it. Just for a while. Then a strong hand closed over his and wrested the axe away. He blinked in confusion and tried to see through the fast-approaching darkness, wondering vaguely why he hadn't noticed the other immortal's approach, let alone that night was coming on. "Darius?" "You've done more than enough, my friend." The immortal monk put the axe aside and gestured at the pile of logs. The stump the logs had been resting on was hacked half to bits, too. "You lost track of time and of pain, too, it would seem." He turned Duncan's hand over in his, prodding gently at the blistered palms, which were fast healing over. "Ah didna notice...how long've ah been out here?" the Scotsman asked, his accent even thicker than usual with shock. "A few hours. I went looking for you and here you are. You may not be able to die, but I do not think you would welcome the sensation of freezing to death. Come," he added in his rich voice. "You must rest now. It is over and so we must all rest. We did all that we could. Someone will gather the wood later, yes?" Macleod allowed Darius to draw him inside the monastery and to an empty cell. He fell onto the narrow cot in pure exhaustion, and then the tears were finally starting to flow, from more than just being tired. Darius laid a gentle hand on his friend's forehead, half in comfort, half in benediction. "Weariness can also be of the soul, you know." "Aye," Duncan whispered hoarsely. "Ah know. Always...Ah just don' want tae remember it all..." "We will talk when you have slept, then. Then you will have the strength to face what you have seen. Sleep now." The monk's soft words were barely heard as Duncan sank into sleep, too drained to feel anything anymore, at least for the time being. He knew, somewhere in the back of his mind, that he would be able to tell Darius all of it. Need to tell him. When he woke up... End Part One ******** Laura Reeve aeron@deeptht.armory.com, aeron@gorn.evolve.com Journeyman Bard, Teacher, Believer in Unicorns, Cat-Person. ******** "Around here, the fantasy "There is nothing so wrong in this always wins..." world that a sensible woman -Jim Henson can't set it right in the course of an afternoon..." -Countess Aurelia, The Madwoman of Chaillot