Rating: R for violence & non-consensual sex.
Notes: A story in the Bloodties series, set in the Star Trek future/time line, but no ST characters, just the 'Mirror, Mirror' concept.
Characters: Methos, Duncan MacLeod, MirrorMethos, Kronos, Silas, Lucien LaCroix, Original Characters
Summary: When Methos' past becomes part of the present, the consequences could be deadly for those close to him.
If you're new to the series, you can find an overview here.
I Remember You Not Fondly ~ Part Fourteen
Methos sat on a ridge overlooking the alien device that had brought him to this hell. Would he ever make it back home? Doubt had begun to seep into every corner of his mind. He was used to being in control of whatever situation he found himself in, but this was different; here, he had absolutely none. Rarely in his life had he felt so powerless.
The first glimmers of sunrise had crept like fingers across the plain below. Soon, it would be light and the beginning of another day here in this false reality. He’d woken hours ago, unable to calm the tormented thoughts that plagued him. He’d tried meditation, but even that had proved useless. Finally, he had abandoned his tent for the sharp icy air of predawn and had walked with very little idea of where he was going. Then he had reached this place; a place that overlooked the very thing that had brought so much despair.
Picking up a rock, Methos hurled it away in angry frustration. Every new day on this side of the mirror increased the chances that he would never get home. And if he did get home? No, when he got home. When he got home there would be no more researching mysterious dead alien cultures and their artifacts. That he swore. Curiosity killed the cat indeed!
Just for a moment, the deep current of all his years pulled at him. A half recalled fragment of him looking up at the stars from a time so long ago that any memories were more like insubstantial dreams. How had he gone from that place to this? Surely that youth he’d been could have never imagined the possibilities, the sorrows and regrets, and yes, the joys, that the future would bring. And if he had? Would he have had the courage to face what was to come to get to the man he was now? To experience the life and the loves that had made him what he was?
Methos rarely dwelt on all the long ages he had lived. He’d said once that he was just a guy; and that was true. It had to be true or he would have surely gone mad. But there were moments, like this, when the reality of those years was undeniable. And the weight of them threatened to overwhelm his sense of place in this time and space.
Further introspection was interrupted by the warning sensation of another Immortal, soon followed by the booming echo of Silas’ voice on the morning breeze. “Methos! There you are!” Coming up to him, Silas slapped him on the back before dropping down to sit next to him.
Despite everything, Methos couldn’t stop a smile. The presence of the large Immortal had been the one bright spot during this whole experience. “Silas.” He nodded a greeting.
“I thought I might find you here,” Silas said. “He likes this spot.” He noticed the clench of Methos’ jaw at that observation. “You are very different from our Methos,” he added.
“That’s something, I suppose,” Methos murmured in reply. He looked up at Silas, an idea suddenly forming. “You’re fond of Triona.”
Silas beamed. “She’s my little sister. I look out for her and she teaches me things. I make her laugh.”
Methos nodded. “How would you like to do something for her no one else can?”
“What can I do?” Silas asked, perplexed.
“Her hand,” he explained. “You could help her make it stronger. I can teach you exercises that you could in turn show her.”
Silas looked thoughtful. “It upsets her. The scars always remind her.”
“Yes. But if she had more control of her hand, her grip, perhaps the memories would trouble her less.”
Nodding, Silas agreed. “I could do that. I would like to help.”
Several hours passed as Methos taught Silas the exercises that would help Triona. He felt a sense of satisfaction; at least he’d accomplished something of worth here. “You’re a good student, Silas!” he said, patting his arm.
“That’s what she says.”
The men fell into a companionable silence; each lost in their own thoughts. Then, Methos could feel the other man’s gaze upon him. Finally, Silas said into the silence, “She’s your woman where you’re from.”
“Yes, she is. Triona is my wife.”
“And you care for her?”
“Yes, very much.” Methos wondered where Silas was going with this.
“That’s good.” Then he said, “Kronos cares for her.”
“I know he does.”
“Methos never understood,” Silas said quietly. “Never understood why she turned to Kronos.”
Methos looked over at Silas, needing to know why, but afraid of breaking the spell should he ask. Finally, Silas met his eyes, and Methos was surprised at the sadness he saw there.
Silas seemed to be trying to decide if he should continue. Then he sighed, the sound like a bellows. “When he looks at Triona, Kronos never sees the scars. And Methos… the scars are all that he ever sees.”
Methos had no answer for that.
Methos and Silas made their way back to the encampment; both men wrapped up in their own memories. It was only the approach of another Immortal that drew them from wherever their thoughts had wandered.
“I thought I’d have to send out a search party,” Kronos chided.
Methos looked up at the sun, suddenly realizing how long he’d been gone. “Sorry. I lost track of the time.” Isn’t that the truth in more ways than one?
“Yes, well no matter! I only thought you’d like to know that Triona is well, and thinks she has figured out how to send you home.” Kronos smirked. “Assuming of course that’s what you still want?”
“I do!” Methos was unable to contain his joy at Kronos’ news. “While this has been fun, it’s time for me to take my leave,” he said wryly.
“I thought as much.” Kronos gripped Methos’ upper arm companionably. “This has been one of the more unique experiences in my life, I’ll admit.”
“That’s putting it mildly.”
“Who knows? We may meet again one day, perhaps in the reality that you’re so fond of.”
“Perhaps. One never knows what the future holds,” Methos replied quietly.
“Who indeed, old friend. Who indeed?”
“Come! Triona has a few more details to work out, so we have time for a parting toast, yes?”
“Yes!” Methos couldn’t help but laugh. Beyond all hope, he was going home!