The Methos Chronicles: Lady Madonna By Mina-Clare Moseley Synopsis: Episode 2 of "The Methos Chronicles". Methos must deal with the loss of someone special to him, while dealing with the grief of a friend. Rating: PG-13. Heavy language. Archive: Seventh Dimension and anyone else who wants it. Author's Notes: This is Episode 2 in the 13 episode season. For more information on the Methos Chronicles series check out: http://straykitty.com/deargirl/methos/fanfiction/chronicles Disclaimer: Highlander belongs to Davis-Panzer Entertainment. This is non-profit fan fiction. **** "This is one promise you will not be able to fill." Rose said. "I can't. My spark is gone, Old Man. I'm dead inside." "That's not true, Rose." "It happens to all of us, Methos!" Rose cried, smashing her hand down on the table. Her glass broke, cutting her hand. The wounds healed instantaneously. "After enough time, we die inside. It becomes only about survival. Do you know who told me that?" "I was wrong." Methos got off the couch. "You have just forgotten how to show your emotions. Cry. Scream. Get angry. Do something, Rosalyn!" "I can't bring him back with my tears. Nothing I will do will bring Micky back. Have you cried Methos?" Methos wrapped his arms around Rose, pulling her close to him. "When Micky was young.... You used to sing to him." He buried his face in her neck, inhaling her scent. "It was a song for your children. You wrote it in 1112, when you adopted Adam." "You would stand in the doorway, listening...." Rose whispered hoarsely. "When Micky fell asleep, you and I would go to our room. You lay on the right side." Methos ran his fingers through Rose's hair. "You would cuddle close to me, draping your leg over my hip." "You would look at me, give me a small smile. Then you would lean close, giving me a kiss." "Then Micky would come in, wanting to sleep with us." "He would crawl between us.... He.... He.... Would cuddle to me...." She felt her barriers being to fall. Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself. Tears streaked down Methos' cheeks. He held her tighter. "Cry, Rose. You want to." "I think I've forgotten how." ***** The buzz hit Methos and Rose at the same time. They had fallen asleep on the couch together. Grabbing his sword, Methos went to the door. He opened it, ready to attack. Amanda strutted in. "Calm down, Methos. I'm not going to hurt you." Methos went back to Rose, who was getting her sword. "Go into my room, Rose. It's just a common annoyance." "You sure everything's okay?" she asked. He nodded. "Go into my room. I'll be there soon." Rose looked at Amanda, then went off to Methos' room. Methos turned back to Amanda, sword still in hand. "You're much too fond of these late night drop ins, Amanda. What is it?" "Well, I just picked Joe up. Apparently, you abandoned him at a funeral." Crossing her arms, Amanda sighed. "So, how are you doing, Methos?" "What makes you think anything is wrong?" "Joe filled me in on the situation." She gestured to Methos' room. "So, the redhead. She looks familiar." "You might have met her before," Methos said, putting his sword down. "It's been a while." Amanda sat down next to Methos. "So I know why you went to the funeral. Why did she?" "Goodnight Amanda." Methos opened the front door. Amanda didn't budge. "Is that Rachel? Is that *your wife*?" "GOODNIGHT AMANDA." "I just wanted to make sure you're okay. Losing a child is hard. I know." She felt a twinge of regret at the thought of Kenneth. "I know how to deal." He sighed. "I don't think Rose does." "You did raise Michael with her." Amanda whispered, smiling. "Do you love her?" "She's a friend," Methos pulled the door open further. "Please leave." "Friend in the way I'm MacLeod's friend?" "Go home, Amanda. I'm not in the mood to get into this." Methos opened the door. "Please. Go." Getting up, Amanda sighed. "Fine. I was just trying to help." She stopped when get got to the doorway. "If you need to talk...." "I'll call you." Methos shut and locked the door after Amanda left. He rubbed his eyes, wandering to his bedroom. Rose looked up at him as he came in. Stripping, Methos left his clothes in a pile on the floor. Dressed in only in his boxers, he climbed into bed. He laid down. "Get comfortable." "I should be getting home," Rose whispered. "No." He sat up. "You've been really upset, and you killed nearly an entire bottle of scotch. You're in no shape to head home." He rose from the bed. "If you're not comfortable.... I can sleep on the couch." "No. I'll be fine. We shared a bed for ten years." She began to take off her dress. "Do you have something I can sleep in?" "You won't sleep in the nude?" Methos asked, searching for a t-shirt. Rose shook her head. "I remember your rule: Don't sleep naked, because you might have to fight naked." Smiling, Methos handed her a shirt. "But you look better that way than I do." After changing, Rose laid down on Methos' right. He stroked her arm gently. She moved away, turning her back to him. "Good night, Methos." Sighing, Methos pulled the covers over them. "Good night, Rose." ***** Morning's light streamed into the window, nearly blinding Methos as he opened his eyes. "Dammit all...." He murmured, glancing at the clock. It was nearly seven. He needed to wake up and get to school. He noticed the bed was empty. He placed a hand on the pillow Rose had slept on. "Rosa?" Rubbing his eyes, he got out of bed. He wandered to the kitchen. He smiled when he saw her in the at the table, curled up in the hardwood chair. She had dressed in one of his sweatshirts. "Good morning." "Hello," she whispered, tucking her legs beneath her chin. "I thought you might have run away." Rose shook her head. "You're the one that runs away, not me." "Did I deserve that, Rosalyn?" She shook her head. "No.... I really shouldn't have--" "It's okay. Listen, I have to go to work. Are you going to stick around?" Rose shook her head. "I need to head home. It's not fair for me to leave all the clean up to Greta and Douglas." "Okay. Call me later." He kissed her forehead. "If you don't, I'm going to come looking." "I promise, Old Man. Now get going. Don't be late on my account." **** "One of your damn voyeurs tracked mud all over the carpet!" Douglas sighed, scrub brush in hand. "Better a voyeur than a shark," Greta commented, cleaning the coffee table. "When do you think Robbie is going to be home?" Douglas shrugged. "Mum knew Micky for eighty years. I don't think anything has ever hurt her this deep. Doc'll take good care of her. It might be a few days." The door opened, and Rose came in. "Hey. Sorry I took off." "Mum." Douglas ran to her, hugging her. "I didn't think you'd be back so soon." "It's my house. Why wouldn't I?" "Where's Doc?" Greta asked. "Not here," Rose stated firmly. She picked up a package which lay on the coffee table. "What's this?" "Genevieve came by," Douglas explained. "It's for you." Rose opened the box. She pulled out a black notebook. She swallowed hard, pulling out book after book. Greta looked over Rose's shoulder. "What is it, Robbie?" "My inheritance." **** The buzz crawled up Methos' spine. He rose from the couch, sword in hand. There was a soft knock on the door. "Doc, it's me." Methos sighed in relief. "Rose." He opened the door. "Are you okay?" "He left us this." Rose thrust the box into Methos' arms. Methos accepted the box. "What is this?" "Micky's private diaries. He wanted us to have them." She took a deep breath, shaking her head violently. "Take them. I don't want them." She shifted uncomfortably. "I just came by to give you those. I need to go." "Why don't you stay with me? We can both read these." She shook her head. "I'm sorry, Old Man. I can't." Her voice was filled with pain. He set the diaries aside, pulling her close. "Why not? Micky wanted both of us to see these." "No." Rose pushed Methos away. "Rose--" "I tired of this, Methos!" She cried. "We've known each other for hundreds of years? We're together a decade here, a decade there. You always leave in the end." She sighed. "Losing Micky made me realize something. I can't stand losing people. It hurts too much. I don't have the energy anymore. I need to go away from you, Greta, Douglas.... Everyone. I can't stand the thought of losing you guys." "So this is a pre-emptive strike? What are you going to do, Rosalyn?" Methos grabbed her roughly. "Cut yourself off? You have eternity. You'll go mad if you're all alone." His grip tightened. "I've buried more people than I can count. FIVE THOUSAND YEARS, Rosalyn. That's how long I've had to lose people." "I know that. Don't throw your age in my face. Now let go of me." "It's always going to hurt, Rosalyn. But there are things that make it worthwhile. That little bit of time you can spend with a person-- You know how wonderful it can be. It makes the pain of losing them worth it." His voice waiver as he let Rose go. "Ever since I met you, I knew I could trust you. I've depended on you! No matter what happened, I always knew I could turn to you. Don't pull away, Rose. I need you.... And I know you need me." Gathering her strength, Rose pushed Methos away. "I can't do it anymore, Methos. I just CAN'T. I'm spent." "This is your grief talking and you know it. I've got a news flash for you, Rosalyn. I'm grieving! He was my son too! The only person I want to turn to is you. You're the only one who understands exactly how I'm feeling." "No I don't understand. If you remember, you abandoned Micky and me." "I was being hunted by an immortal!" Methos gritted his teeth. "I left so you and Micky wouldn't get hurt." "You could have just killed the bastard! You wanted a way out and that 'old friend' gave you an excuse. It's too much, Methos. I don't want to hurt anymore. I can't be with people." "Fine." He picked his sword back up, pressing it to Rose's delicate neck. She gasped, "What are you doing?" "If you can't do it," Methos said calmly, pushing the blade closer. "Tell me to take your head." "Methos...." Rose trembled. "I know what it's like to lose passion, Rosalyn. Your passion is what drew me to you all those years ago. Now tell me: What am I suppose to do?" Rose shut her eyes. A single tear ran down her face as Methos prepare to strike. As he brought the sword down, he stopped. "Go," he hissed. She opened her eyes. "What?" He threw the sword aside. "You should know by now I could never--" He grit his teeth, turning away. "Just leave, Rosalyn. Before I change my mind." **** Amanda opened the scotch, pouring half a glass of the amber liquid. "So you called me. You need help. Is it just pouring you drinks?" She cocked her head. "Can I know what I'm helping with?" "I've been around five thousand years. And I still don't understand how some of us lose it." He drank down the scotch. "They can't stand the idea of forever and they forget how to live." He shook his head. "I never thought that Rose would be one of them." "Oh, this is about your wife." "She's not my wife Amanda." Methos shook his head, pouring himself another drink. "I can't even call her my friend anymore. Nothing I said did anything. She's so dead inside.... It wouldn't surprise me if she got herself killed." The buzz took over, Methos and Amanda grabbed their swords. Methos got up, flinging open the front door. Rose was standing there, trembling. "Methos.... I-I know usually I'm the one that takes in strays but...." Methos pulled her into an embrace before she could finish. Her tears began to flow. He held her, just letting her cry. **** April 1, 2001 Dear Em, These last few days, I've been thinking about mortality and eternity. After living as long as I have, you sometimes forget. It becomes an abstract concept that you just want to ignore. I don't want to know how people feel about it. Micky was special. I've adopted kids before, but Micky actually knew the score. Before I've had to leave my children before they could discover who I truly was. True I wasn't always around, but I watched Micky. I got to see him up until his declining years. It became so hard. To see the child I had raised with Rosalyn become an old man. I don't feel sadness towards the lose of Micky. He saw death as a way to join Jeanette. He wrote in his journals, speaking of the love of his life. How he knew they would be together "on the other side". He believed in heaven. I don't know where he got that from. Sure as hell wasn't me or Rosalyn. I'm not quite sure to do with Rosalyn now. All she can see is eternity stretching out before her. I need to convince her we don't have forever. Someday someone's going to be a better fighter and it'll be over. No matter how it happens, everything dies in the end. I just need to make her live until that time comes. ~The Old Man~ **** Lady Madonna, children at your feet. Wonder how you manage to make ends meet. Who finds the money? When you pay the rent? Did you think that money was heaven sent? --Lady Madonna (John Lennon/Paul MacCartney) **** Next time on "The Methos Chronicles" Methos must decide between self-preservation and saving a friend when a mutual enemy comes to Oxford.