Disclaimer: The characters of Duncan MacLeod and Methos do not belong to me and I am borrowing them for fun and entertainment only. They belong to Panzer/Davis, Rysher, Gaumont, etc. No copyright infringement is intended. Asher du Lac is my own creations.

Untitled


by Sun Star


Comments are always welcome, flames will be used to fuel the creative fires. If you want to archive this, e-mail me.


23-10-96

He's finally sleeping. Not his usual light 'I have to be aware so I can keep my head' sleep but a real deep dreamless sleep. The sleep of the dead. Les dormir des morts.

I don't think he's slept at all since Alexa. At least six months.

Alexa. I visited her in Greece while Adam was away. She looked so frail but she was fighter. Right until the end.

I guess he was feeling depressed tonight. So he got royally drunk and cried on my shoulder when I showed up at the barge. I finally put him to bed around 1. Then the nightmares started and he wouldn't let me leave the room.

That's how we ended up in bed, Adam's arms around me, clinging to me, his head on my stomach. God, that sounds almost obscene.

I suppose I should explain why I'm at Mac's barge and not my flat to begin with. It's been, let's see, about three weeks since what Adam, Richie and I jokingly refer to as my "suicide attempt." Since I tried to remove my Watcher's tattoo the hard way. Picture me, drunk and depressed. I decided I didn't want to be mistaken for a Watcher anymore. So I took the sharpest knife I could find and cut it off. Richie found me on the floor, covered in blood, dying. I think he was shocked. Mac said I died five times before I healed totally. So I scared the shit out of him and now he wants me to stay with him for a while. Until he thinks I won't go out searching for some Immortal to take my head. I tried to explain to him that I wasn't suicidal, I was drunk but he wouldn't take no for an answer. Finally, it was just easier to give in.

Anyway, so that's why I'm here. Laying in Mac's bed with the oldest living Immortal snoring gently against my stomach. Then I felt the other Immortal. After a moment I realized it was Mac.

Adam stirred and I took the opportunity to move out of his grasp. I reassured him it was Mac, picked up my sword and went out just to make sure.

He was sitting on the couch, head in his hands. I could hear him softly crying. Good Gods not another one. Why do I always end up comforting crying Immortals? Thinking about it, they've done the same for me often enough. These two men have held me when I needed them. I hate to cry and I don't do it often but no one could live for 2137 years and never cry. So I stood before him and he buried his head in my shirt, his shirt actually. I asked him what's wrong.

"Tessa."

That one word said it all. It was the anniversary of Tessa's death. They had been together for twelve years and she'd been taken from him by a robbery. A stupid hold-up. The robber had gotten away and hadn't even gotten any money. It had been Richie's First Death as well.

While he cried, I held him, my fingers running through his soft hair. When he was done, I helped him up and into the bedroom. He hesitated when he saw Adam in the bed. I reassured him, got him out of his jeans and shirt and pulled him to bed with me.

So now I was in Mac's bed with Adam on one side, his arm curled around my middle and Mac on the other with his arm just under Adam's. I feel safe. More than safe. These two men are my best friends.

24-10-96

When I woke up this morning, Adam was playing with my hair, wrapping curls around his fingers. He was looking at me with something like wonder in his eyes. Mac was still sleeping, his arm still around me.

"You are my strength." He told me. That was my breaking point.

I shook my head. I don't want to be strong anymore. Tears came unbidden to my eyes. I took a breath that came out as a sob. Surprise crossed those strong features. He was demanding to know what was wrong and all I could do was cry. Let the tears of more than 2000 years flow. I think he understood without me saying anything. He pulled me from Mac's grasp and into his embrace. Mac woke up and moved closer to both of us. They lent me comfort and strength as I had them so many times before.

After a while I pulled away from both of them, embarrassed. As I said before, I hate to cry. One of them ran a hand over my back and hit a particularly ticklish spot. I shrieked and jumped. I looked at each of them and they looked back, so innocent I could only giggle. Adam reached out and placed one hand on each side of my face. He leaned up and placed a kiss on my forehead, each of my eyelids and both cheeks before gathering me to him.

I wish I had some great wisdom to impart on whoever finds this, years after I'm gone. One would think after living so long I would know more, understand more about the world. I guess of all the teachers I've had over the years one man has taught me more about living, surviving. "Live, grow stronger, fight another day." Thank you, Adam.

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