XOVER: Shattered (07/07)

• Messages sorted by: [ date ][ thread ][ subject ][ author ]
• Next message: Ith: "XOVER: Shattered (06/07)"
• Previous message: Ith: "XOVER: Shattered (05/07)"

"Shattered" ~ Part One in the Old Holly Ridge Farm Cycle
by Denise Underwood
c. 2006

Part Seven


"When I finally woke up, the last thing I remembered was walking out of the 
police station. Lucien told me I'd been in an accident, that my car had 
skidded on the ice and overturned into a ditch. He said I'd been in a coma 
and while I was unconscious, had contracted pneumonia from being exposed to 
the elements for so many hours till I had been found. It fit all my 
symptoms, the memory loss, and the weakness. And it all fit with my last 
memories, being so angry with Nicholas and LaCroix. I assumed that my 
emotional upset had led to me not paying attention when I drove home, 
leading to the accident. Lucien even insisted my next vehicle be a four 
wheel drive, so I'd be safer driving in the winter." Triona shook her head. 
"He thought of everything."

"He's always been thorough," Methos agreed with grudging admiration.

"That he is," she said absently. Standing up, Triona walked a little way so 
she could see out the window, but not be in direct path of the light that 
came through it. She stared into space, her thoughts far away.

"What is it?" her husband asked quietly, coming to stand next to her, 
taking her right hand in both of his.

Shaking her head, she didn't immediately reply. Triona didn't really know 
how to put into words what she was feeling. "I think it's my mind trying to 
sort out the memories and the almost memories," she finally said.

"Almost memories?"

She looked up at him, an expression of frustration crossing her face. "I 
don't know how else to describe it. Yes, now I remember everything up to 
the attack, but what happened after, I can't really pin down. I have 
memories, but they're more like dreams. And to tell the truth, I'm not sure 
what are my own actual recollections, and what are Lucien's."

Lifting her hand, he cradled her arm against his chest, massaging the palm 
gently. "Maybe you shouldn't try and figure it out." Entwining his fingers 
in hers, Methos tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear with his other 
hand. "You can't force it, sweet. You've had to process a huge amount of 
memory and emotion in the last twelve hours. Give yourself some time to 
deal with that before you try and remember more."

Triona kissed the hand that held hers. "Maybe you're right. It's just that 
I want it all clear in my mind, now I've remembered. I wish it was night," 
she said wistfully, "I'd really like to go for a walk."

"A walk, you say?" He tweaked her nose making her smile. "How about an 
indoor walk?"

"A what?"

"Well, this house is certainly big enough. We could take a turn around the 
halls, stroll through the rooms," he leaned down to whisper lasciviously in 
her ear, "explore the closets."

"Have I mentioned that you're nuts?" Triona punched his arm playfully.

"I prefer 'inspired'," he declared loftily, eliciting a snicker from 
Triona. "Shall we?" he asked, crooking his arm for her to take.

"Let's".

@________@

"This is the best picnic I've ever been on," Triona said, picking up her 
glass and taking a sip of her wine.

They had taken their walk, Methos taking an inordinate interest in the 
closets, finishing in the wine cellar. On the way down, they'd stopped in 
the kitchen, gathering the makings of a picnic lunch. Now, they were 
sitting on the bench at the rough plank table in the cellar, enjoying their 
picnic by candlelight.

"Like I told you, 'inspired'!" Methos replied smugly.

"And witty, and handsome, and very sexy." Leaning in, she kissed the corner 
of his mouth.

"Don't stop now," he teased softly, twining his fingers into her hair

"And I am blessed to have you in my life."

"That might be open for debate," he replied acerbically.

"No, it's not." She cut off anything else he might say, capturing his lips 
with hers. Breaking the kiss, she asked, "Any argument?"

"None." He shook his head, grinning. "You can be very convincing."

She trailed her fingers along his arm. "If you ever need more convincing, 
just let me know." Giggling, she batted her eyelashes at him outrageously.

"I'll be sure to make an appointment," he replied dryly. Refilling her 
wineglass, he asked, "So, how's the overactive brain doing now?"

"Much better. By not trying to remember, I remember." Taking another sip of 
her wine, she smiled over her glass at him before setting it down. "Or 
something like that." It had been odd, while taking her 'walk' with Methos 
and listening to one of his many amusing stories from his past, how 
snatches of memories floated into order, becoming more concrete.

"Anything you want to talk about?" He covered her hand with his, and Triona 
could feel his concern.

Shrugging, she looked into the candle flame. "Things like the candle. It 
reminded me of waking up in a dark room, only lit by a few candles, a 
bright light shining in my eyes, and the intense pain it caused, whispers, 
concerned voices, then drifting back into blackness."

"Lucien told me that Nick's coroner friend treated you, gave you blood 
transfusions, IV fluids. You're probably remembering her testing your pupil 
response."

"Natalie," she nodded, "Dr. Lambert. I remember her being there -- one of 
the concerned voices. I would wake up, and Lucien would be sitting next to 
me, holding my hand. I was terrified of being left alone, and he never 
did," she said quietly. "Sometimes, when I'd wake up, he'd be speaking to 
me in the softest voice." And there, out of seemingly nowhere, came the 
realization. "And he actually sounded afraid. Afraid of losing me." A note 
of wonder tinged her voice as the memory fully crystallized.

"Divia was right, you did underestimate your importance to him," Methos 
observed, squeezing her hand.

She shook her head sadly. "Such a loss."

His brow creased in puzzlement. "What?"

"The memories, and what they represented. How different things might have 
been if I had more to remember than anger and thinking Lucien didn't care."

"There's a reason they say hindsight is always 20/20," he reminded her softly.

"Isn't that the truth?" Triona laughed sharply. "And yet, we manage to 
muddle through somehow."

"Usually."

"Barely."

"That's cynical of you," Methos commented lightly.

"Please! With the company I keep? Cynical doesn't even begin to cover it!" 
She smiled to take any sting from her words.

"Ouch!" He held up had hands as if to ward her off. "I guess you must be 
feeling more like your old self."

Triona looked at him suspiciously. "And what's that supposed to mean exactly?"

"Oh, nothing," he replied airily, lips twitching.

"Uh huh." She didn't believe him for a second. "But I'll let it go just 
this once," she told him sternly, but with laughing eyes.

"You're far too good to me," he said, his voice husky.

She swayed, drawing closer, till their faces were a bare inch from each 
other. Methos always seemed to radiate a warmth that she always found 
irresistible, and now was no exception. Holding his gaze, she placed her 
palms against his chest, skimming her lips across his, barely touching 
them. "You're right, I probably am," she said in the barest of whispers. 
"But I'm sure you can think of a way to thank me."

"Of that I have no doubt." Methos pulled her closer, his fingers splayed 
across her ribs. "Many ways, in fact." He placed light kisses, like the 
brush of silken strands, all over her face, before moving back to her lips.

"Many?" She shivered a little at the intense look in his eyes.

"And I intend to demonstrate all of them before the day ends." He kissed 
her then, long and lingering.

As he gathered her into his arms, she sighed in contentment. "Well, we are 
newlyweds, after all."

@__________@


Triona ran a hand through her hair, slowly waking up. Considering the 
bedroom was dark, she must have been asleep for some time. That was some 
picnic, she thought, smiling as she remembered just how the impromptu meal 
had ended. She already knew Methos was gone, but ran a hand over his pillow 
out of habit. Glancing over at the glowing display of the clock on the 
bedside table, she saw it was a little after 6pm. Rolling over, she 
considered going back to sleep, but sternly ordered herself to get up.

After showering and throwing on her old jeans, an emerald green T-shirt, 
and her favorite old moth-eaten sweater, Triona went to open the door. 
Instead of just a doorknob, her hand went around a piece of paper as well. 
Pulling the tape away, she read the note Methos had left:

'Needed to run some errands before the shops closed. Dinner is keeping warm 
on the back of the stove. See you when I get home.

P.S. You're beautiful when you're sleeping'

She smiled tenderly remembering all over again how much she loved him. 
Dinner? Come to think of it she was hungry. In fact, she felt happy and 
normal, almost as if the last two days hadn't happened. The past wasn't 
forgotten, but it wasn't overpowering her present either, and that was 
something to be happy about indeed.

Making her way briskly down the stairs and down the hall to the kitchen, 
she wondered just what she'd find to eat. Entering the kitchen, she went to 
the stove, and eagerly took the lid off the pot. She was torn between 
laughter and wanting to kill him, seeing what was inside: oatmeal!

"I swear, I'm going to kill him," she muttered. Shaking her head, she said 
out loud to herself. "I guess you're making dinner."

"Actually, I have a message for you," Nick's voice said from behind her. 
This time, she'd actually been aware of his presence entering the periphery 
of her senses, so didn't shriek as she had the morning before.

"Oh?" She turned, looking at him expectantly.

Nick was grinning. "Methos said that if there were any threats against his 
life, for me to tell you he's bringing pizza back."

"And beer, no doubt," Triona replied, rolling her eyes.

Nick laughed. "No doubt."

She joined in his laughter. "Despite his deficiencies, I think I'll keep him."

"I'm glad." He shook his head. "I may not quite understand it, but the 
three of you belong together."

Leaning against the counter, she said, "Since I don't quite understand it 
either, we're even."

Nick poured her a glass of wine from the decanter in the center of the 
kitchen table and handed it to her. "I admit, I don't think I could do what 
Methos and LaCroix do. Maybe I'm too much a product of the time I grew up in."

She shrugged, taking a sip of the wine. Thinking a moment, she said, "It 
definitely helps that both of them come from a time with very different 
sexual mores than now. Truth be told, I'm probably the one who had the most 
trouble with our relationship in the beginning. I still do, on occasion," 
she admitted.

"How did you -- how do you -- deal with it?" he asked, intensely curious.

"I try and remember what LaCroix always tells me - you know, the usual 
speech -- that we're not human anymore, not mortal, that human conventions 
don't apply. And more importantly, I remind myself of how much they both 
love me, and how I love them. My life, my heart, wouldn't be complete 
without both of them. When I see all the possible centuries that lay before 
me, I can't imagine those long years without them by my side." The last was 
said with a love that no one hearing could doubt.

"I envy you," Nick said simply.

Triona reached over and took Nick's hand. "We're always here, Nicholas. You 
just have to want to be with us."

"And if I chose that, to come back, you wouldn't object?"

"What makes you think my objections would matter?" she countered.

"Because I know that you've all moved on without me. I'm looking in the 
window at all I could have had, but threw away. I know that your presence 
in LaCroix's life has made a place where I could be content, if only I 
could allow you in, to accept my family, to be a part of what you are now."

The intensity of emotion in Nick's voice, and through the ephemeral link 
they shared, struck Triona deeply. With barely a conscious thought, she 
took the knife that was lying on the counter, and sliced open her wrist, 
thrusting it at Nick. "This is offered freely."

The internal struggle was obvious as it played across his face. Coming to a 
decision, Nick took the proffered offering, drawing her wrist to his mouth, 
partaking of her blood. Triona kept mental control, drawing him back into 
their familial bond. She 'knew' it wasn't something he'd ever experienced, 
she was both prey and family. She was their Master; she was Janette, 
Stephanie, and Methos, her sisters. Everything he'd fled from, but wanted 
back.

Tears ran down her face as Nick absorbed feeling and thought, along with 
her life's blood. There wasn't anything erotic about this feeding. It was 
only about love, acceptance, and family. She felt Methos as he entered the 
room, and mentally drew him into what was enfolding. She hadn't planned on 
this, but it seemed right. She was a conduit, a catalyst, and it was an 
aspect of what she'd become since that long ago night in Toronto when 
LaCroix had first drank of her blood.

Nick drew away, chastely kissing her now healing wrist, as Methos pulled 
her gently against his chest, his arms coming around to enfold her. She 
leaned against his strength as she continued to mentally wrap Nick in the 
warmth of family and belonging. Triona shuddered, pulling together the 
strands of what the night had wrought as her husband took the wrist Nick 
had released, and gently caressed it with his lips, almost making her swoon.

No matter what their past, and what their future might bring, now, at this 
moment, they were family, and nothing could break that bond. Ironic that 
the very family Divia had attempted to destroy had instead been 
strengthened at its very foundation. At the very edge of her awareness, 
Triona could almost believe that Lucien was here with them, a part of this 
joining. It was as it should be. And with that, Triona was content.


Finis.





            Ith *Ithildin@OnDragonsWing.com* Denise
             * Make Tea, Not Love ~Monty Python *
        * A & C  http://bittersweet.ondragonswing.com/ *
* HOUSE M.D. http://tv.groups.yahoo.com/group/DrHouse/ *
        * The Darkwood http://ondragonswing.com/tales/ *
             

• Next message: Ith: "XOVER: Shattered (06/07)"
• Previous message: Ith: "XOVER: Shattered (05/07)"