ENGINE

This is a vignette of what might have happened if Duncan had not regained his speech so soon in Rory's beloved story, "Innocence of Love."

THE ENGINE
©Ewing, Mary
ONE

        "Duncan, Duncan, where are you?"
       Adam Pierson did not hear a response. So, like any concerned parent, he set aside the carving knife he was using to chop carrots for their dinner and went to look for the scamp. Duncan had recently been shot in the head at point blank range. As a result, he'd mentally retrogressed all the way back to his infancy. Although the handsome Immortal had progressed a tiny amount, his intellectual age remained around two years. Methos had hopes that MacLeod would have a full recovery. However, one never knew about these types of situations.
       Despite his handicaps, Duncan was quite active. Of course his movements were light years away from those of the Highland warrior that he was. Duncan, for now, scooted around on the floor and crawled. Methos wasn't sure if it were an intentional ploy to control the adults around him or if Mac hadn't the mental capacity to realize the simple fact that he could walk. Instead, Duncan would hold up his hands and cast his brown puppy eyes so that Methos would carry him. What was worse, the eldest Immortal found himself giving in to the younger Immortal. The big lug ought to be the one carrying him, not the other way around. Still, when Duncan got sleepy and crawled up on the sofa to lay his head on Adam's lap, it was pure joy for the elder man.
       One of the harder things to accept, however, was the fact that Mac had not as yet started talking. Having the body of a man but the brain and physical attributes of a child made him an all around handful for the former Horseman to keep up with. Such as now when the little brat was too quiet; Adam knew he was up to something.
       He checked underneath the bed without luck. The only other place he could be was in the bathroom. The ancient strode into the room, took one look at the minor catastrophe and began cursing. Duncan sat beside the commode. His mischievous eyes were alive with delight as he unwound a roll of toilet paper all over himself and the tile floor.
       "Duncan! What the hell are you doing?" the older Immortal demanded, his arms akimbo.
       The Highland child startled and jerked up his head in surprise, his enchanting mouth forming a perfect "o." Taking a look at his guardian, Duncan knew he was in trouble. He quickly pulled his thumb into his mouth, along with a long ream of toilet paper and began sucking noisily. Meanwhile, a huge tear had formed in his right eye, threatening to spill over. He couldn't understand why his Unka Adam was so upset. He'd just wanted to see how the pretty yellow paper stuck onto the wall like it did. Duncan dug into the pile with his left hand and held up a handful for his Uncle. For some reason, his guardian wasn't pleased.
       Adam didn't want to frighten the youngster but knew he had to correct him. God, this is too much like being a parenthe thought. It's been too many centuries. Methos sighed and crouched down in front of MacLeod. "No! Bad boy!" he sternly admonished and spanked Duncan's left hand three times. "Do not do this again! Now, come on in here with me." he ordered and stood up.
       Adam tugged Duncan to his feet and half drug, half carried the now wailing Highland child into the main room of the loft. Just about that time, Joe lifted the elevator's gate and hobbled in with a sack in one hand, his cane in the other.
       "What are you two up to now?" he demanded with a rumbling chuckle. Dawson sat down heavily in the easy chair across from the sofa, setting his sack down beside him. The gray-haired Watcher patted his knee. "Come over here, Duncan, and tell Uncle Joe what's the matter."
       The young Immortal sniffed and wiped his moisture laden, brown eyes with the back of one hand. A combination of crawling and scooting on his dimpled backside brought him over to the blues' man he now knew as Unka Joe. Duncan cutely laid his left cheek on Joe's knee and gazed up into the love-filled, gray eyes. He opened his mouth to speak but the memories enabling the Scot to say the right words just weren't there any more. Instead, he pointed back at the eldest Immortal who was in the kitchen fixing a tray of finger foods for Duncan and tuna fish salad sandwiches for Joseph and himself. His mahogany orbs flashed and his lower lip shoved its way into a pout as he tried to tell his other guardian what had happened with his eyes and hands..
       Joe lovingly pushed a long, curly strand of hair back off the Highlander's forehead and tried to keep a straight face. However, a chuckle soon escaped him. He didn't want to upset the Highlander who was trying so hard to make himself understood.
       Pierson looked up from the kitchen island and growled, "Hrumpf, you ought to go into the bathroom and just see what our little "angel" did to the toilet paper."
       Joe just laughed that much harder, but managed to get out a "...but, Adam, he doesn't know any better; he's still a baby."
       "Hell of a big baby, if you ask me, Watcher." the Immortal quipped.
       Duncan tried to keep up with the two adults' conversation, but as with most children, his short attention span was quickly diverted to the paper sack his Uncle had brought. He reached for it but missed it by inches when Dawson picked it up and moved it to the other side of his chair.
       Joe instead delved into his coat pocket and brought out a large sucker. He held it out to the Scot and said, "Look what Uncle Joe brought you."
       Duncan's baby eyes widened in fascination from the candy's bright red and yellow colors. He tentatively reached out and wrapped clumsy fingers around the candy.
       "You know you're going to spoil that boy rotten, don't you, Joe?" Methos called out as he set their food on the table.
       Dawson's gravelly chuckle echoed across the single room. "Didn't you know that's what uncles are for, Adam?"
       Momentarily distracted, the Watcher again heard the rustle of the paper sack. Glancing down, he grinned. The inquisitive Highland child had crawled to the other side of Joe's chair, drug the sack onto his lap and was peeping inside it. A curious grin spread across his handsome face. He glanced hesitantly at the seated adult.
       Joe figured the Scot needed a special reward since Adam wouldn't let him have the sucker. He nodded. "Go ahead, Duncan, pull it out; it's yours."
Pierson, now curious himself, approached the Immortal and his Watcher and dropped onto his haunches. "What is that, Duncan?"
       MacLeod reached into the sack and tugged out a much-used teddy bear. It's stationary black eyes shone as if it were showing off its new vest. Evidently, Dawson had found a swatch of the distinctive blue plaid with green and yellow stripes denoting the MacLeod tartan.
       Hugging the toy to his chest, MacLeod's face brightened into one of his devastating smiles.
       "Can you thank your Uncle Joe?" Adam prompted the younger Immortal.
       Duncan opened his mouth but couldn't quite form the words. Instead, he sweetly laid his head on his uncle's lap and batted his long, curling eyelashes.
       "That's okay, Duncan. I know you love it." Dawson reassured him and patted his back.
       MacLeod raised his head and proudly held out his new toy to his Uncle Adam.
       "Yes, I see; does he have a name?"
       "His name is Master Teddy; he and I are very old friends." Joe quietly answered.
       Settling his new toy on his lap, Duncan's wandering vision then spotted his sucker. He picked it up and began prying off the cellophane wrapper. All of a sudden, it was yanked out of his hands.
       "Oh, no you don't, young man, not until after dinner." the elder Immortal admonished.
       Duncan frowned and held out a pleading hand, opening and closing his fingers. First, his Uncle Adam had gotten after him about the toilet paper and now this. It was just too much for the Highland bairn. He threw his new bear over to the side, turned onto his stomach and began howling and pounding his fists and feet on the floor.
Joe sat back in stunned disbelief. He never thought he'd see the day when the Highlander would pitch an old fashioned fit.
       Methos set the candy on the kitchen island and unbuckled his belt. Pulling it from his jeans' belt loops, he folded it in half and calmly approached the "adult child."
       Duncan did not pause his screams and kicks until he felt something hard whack him across his sweats clad bottom. At first, he blinked and tried to sit up. His Uncle Adam pushed him back down and gave the recalcitrant youth another lick.
       MacLeod's tearless hollers turned into very real ones with glistening teardrops dripping off his flushed cheeks. He sat up with gulps and choked sobs and reached for Master Teddy. Cuddling him tightly, he didn't see his Uncle Adam sit down beside him. He didn't, that is, until Adam leaned over and cradled his face in his palms. Dawson did not move.
       "Duncan, look at me." the ancient quietly bid. When the sad doe eyes met his hazel ones, Pierson wiped the Scot's tears away. "I love you, Duncan, but I want you to be a good boy and listen to what I say."
       MacLeod's baby mind couldn't comprehend all his uncle's words, but he knew his Uncle Adam truly cared for him. He could not say the words he'd like to say. Instead, Duncan threw his arms around his guardian's neck and hugged him.
       Methos hesitated a millisecond before enfolding the Highlander's still sniffling body into his loving arms. Duncan MacLeod's Watcher did what he did best; he watched and brushed his own unbidden tears from his lined, weathered face.

       Duncan frowned at the small yellow sticks Uncle Adam wanted him to eat. He also didn't want the slices of apple he'd been given, but he'd eaten a couple of bites of that stringy meat. None of it really appealed to him and he pushed his plate to the side. Furtively sneaking a peek at the adults, Duncan saw that they were talking amongst themselves. He quietly slid his sucker off the table and into his lap. Duncan was able to remove the partially opened wrapper and pop the sweet into his mouth.
       Dawson, sitting across from MacLeod had been watching him sneak the sucker into his mouth. He was waiting for the fireworks to start when Adam saw what the Scot had done.
       "Duncan, didn't I tell you to wait until after supper before eating that?" Pierson demanded.
       Mac dropped his gaze guiltily and slowly pulled the treat out of his mouth.
       "Oh, Adam, let him have it." Dawson prompted.
       "But, Joe, he's not eaten hardly anything as it is." the elder Immortal complained.
       "I know he hasn't, but..."
       The Watcher's voice trailed off upon glancing across the table. MacLeod's long hair draped over his shoulders and face, hiding most of his features. It did not obscure the glistening teardrops that trickled down his face and sparkled in the overhead lights.
       Methos' perturbation flew out the open window when he saw Duncan's sadness. The tall warrior slipped out of his chair and knelt down beside the heartbroken Highlander. He laid one slender hand on the Scot's shoulder and with the other, brushed the long locks away from the lovely, sorrowful face.
       Adam lifted Mac's chin and swallowed his own lump that had mysteriously formed in his throat. He leaned in and pecked Duncan's moist cheek with a soft kiss.
       "I'm sorry, Duncan; it's just, I worry about you."
       MacLeod made a strangled sound and threw himself into Pierson's arms. Methos wrapped Duncan's trembling form in a warm embrace and rocked him for long moments.
       Unnoticed by the two Immortals, Dawson stood up and walked into the kitchen. He opened a couple of cabinets before finding what he sought. He then opened a loaf of bread and removed two slices. Joe opened the jar of peanut butter he'd found and swathed a large dollop of it onto the bread. Joe then looked in the refrigerator and pulled out a jar of grape jelly, adding some of it to the sandwich.
The Watcher placed it on a paper towel and laid it in front of MacLeod.
       Duncan eased himself out of his friend's arms and looked down at the sandwich his Uncle Joe had made him. He picked it up and tentatively bit into the bread, tasting the gooey, yummy peanut butter and jelly. When he swallowed it, his tongue darted out and licked off the smidgen that had stuck to the right corner of his expressive mouth. As he did so, a huge grin turned up the corners of his lips. He ate another bite.
       Dawson grinned and Adam shrugged his shoulders.
       "I give up." Pierson relented and allowed the youngster to eat his sandwich. "At least it's food."

TWO

        Later that same night, business was slow at "Joe's," so Dawson asked Sam, his bartender, to close up for him. He left early and stopped back by the loft to check on Duncan and Adam.
       The mortal could tell Methos was having a difficult time "parenting" the injured Scot. This evening's meal had been strained at best. If the Watcher hadn't fixed Mac the peanut butter and jelly sandwich, those two would've still been at odds with each other.
       The saddest part of it all was Duncan MacLeod. He had no memories, the mind and physical function of a two-year-old and could not even speak. It broke Dawson's heart every time he saw the Highlander. Just a short time before, he'd been a warrior, a dangerous, lethal weapon with both his sword and his body. Now, he was reduced to the pitiful shell of a man-child. Joe dreaded to think how long and taxing their lives would be if MacLeod did not recover.
       Methos heard the elevator and knew it had to be Joe. He was the only one, aside from the dojo manager, who had a key. He set aside the book he'd been reading and went over to lift the gate up for the handicapped mortal. It was funny, most of the time, Joe Dawson's lack of legs never crossed his mind. Only in minor instances of difficulty on the Watcher's part was he reminded of it.
"Hey, Joe, you didn't close up yourself?"
       Dawson shook his head. "Naw, I wanted to check on Mac; make sure he was okay."
       The ancient glanced over his shoulder toward the sleeping Scot on the bed. "He finally got to sleep a little while ago. Thanks for the sandwich idea; at least he ate something."
       Joe grinned and nodded his head. "Anytime, buddy. You know I care a lot about the both of you, don't you?"
       A smile relaxed the tense features of the Immortal. "Yeah, Joe, we know. I couldn't have made it these past days without your old ugly mug around."
       "Well, hey, Pierson, it's not like I'm up for a beauty contest." he joked.
       As the two men shared their mutual concern for the sleeping Immortal, their ears picked up an inaudible moan. Methos stood up and approached the bed. Duncan was dreaming and evidently, from the frown on his beautiful face, it wasn't pleasant. Not wanting to startle Mac awake, Adam sat on the side of the bed and ran a soothing palm along the Highlander's T-shirt clad arm.
       Adam heard the blues man maneuver himself to his feet and pick up his guitar case. Joe had begun keeping one in the dojo loft. Dawson sat down in a chair beside the bed and began playing a soft rendition of "I Got It Bad." It wasn't long, between the petting of one uncle and the playing of his other uncle, that Duncan MacLeod's restive slumber evened out and he once more slept the sleep of an innocent.

       Joe Dawson filled two mugs from the beer tap and shoved them expertly down the bar to his waitress. His tavern was partially filled with the usual "happy hour" clientele. He'd spent the morning watching Duncan while Methos attended to some of his and MacLeod's business affairs. A week had passed since Mac's head injury. Both adults had hoped to see a modicum of improvement from the traumatized Scot, but they hadn't.
       Even Joe's little old friend, Master Teddy, hadn't helped as much as they'd wished. Mac had immediately latched onto the tartan clad, stuffed teddy bear. The Highlander drug it everywhere he went. Which ended up, mostly scooting and crawling on the floor. He could walk some of the time but it seemed easier for him to be on all fours.
       What was even worse, other than baby sounds, Mac had not uttered a word. Dawson sighed. His own ordered world had been turned upside down in the few seconds it took for the robber's bullet to shatter the Scot's brain and with it, his memories and skills.
       Please bring Mac back to us, Lord. the Watcher silently prayed for the millionth time.
       Hearing the door of "Joe's Bar" open, he glanced that direction only to exclaim in shock, "Good God! Amanda! What the hell are you doing here?"
       Amanda stepped back in surprise, her mouth open and unusually silent. "Nice to see you, too, Joseph darling." the pretty thief retorted, smoothly covering up the shock at her reception.
       Joe reached for a shot glass and poured himself a stiff drink. This was all Duncan and Adam needed, Amanda Darieux under their feet.
       Amanda quietly picked up a nearby glass of her own and slid it in front of the bartender. "Something tells me I'm going to need one, too."
       Dawson grimaced and poured her a healthy slug of whiskey. "Yeah, you will." and watched her drink it down in one gulp. Grabbing the bottle and his cane, he worked his way from behind the bar. "Bring our glasses and come sit down over here."
       The Immortal wordlessly picked up the two glasses and followed the older appearing mortal. She sat down and watched Dawson pour them a second round of drinks. Amanda crossed one shapely leg over the other one and probed.
       "What is it, Joe? Is it MacLeod?"
       Dawson gingerly set aside his now forgotten drink. He bowed his head and rubbed his whiskered jaw.
Amanda removed a light blue scarf edged in silver from her delicate throat. For the first time since entering her friend's establishment, she noticed his tired, haggard face, dark circled eyes and an even greater number of wrinkles in his forehead than what she remembered.
       "Joe?" she repeated, a cold frisson of fear now gripping her resilient heart. "What's happened to Duncan?"
       "Mac's been shot, Amanda." Dawson whispered, finally meeting her worried gaze.
       Amanda slumped back in her chair. "Wow, Dawson, is that all? For a moment, you had me worried." When the Watcher again failed to respond, she uncrossed her legs and slid to the edge of her chair. "Joe, tell me what's happened to Duncan." she demanded, a steel edge now in her usually frivolous voice.
       "He was shot at point blank range in the back of the head, Amanda."
       Amanda closed her eyes and feebly tried to fight the panic that now filled her petit form. She waited for MacLeod's Watcher to continue.
       "His brain was smashed. He's lost all his functions, his memories, everything."
       "That can't be true, Joseph." Amanda shook her still closely shorn white head. "He's Immortal."
       Joe gulped down his second glass of whiskey. "He's bad, Amanda. He has the body of a man but the mind of a two year old child."
       Tears welled up in the lovely woman's eyes and trickled down her cheeks. "Oh, Duncan, no..." her voice cracked and trailed off.

       Amanda Darieux recrossed her trim legs and nervously fiddled with the charm bracelet Nick had given her their last night in Paris. That was just before he suffered his first death and had awakened into immortality. She hadn't heard from him since. She prayed he was safe. An Immortal friend who also happened to be a priest, Father Liam Riley, had promised to keep to keep her informed.
       Joe Dawson had attempted to dissuade her from going to see MacLeod as he now was. In fact, Amanda had tossed and turned most of the night in indecision. However, as the soft pinks and lavenders of dawn lightened the night sky, she knew she wanted to see the tall, handsome man who'd been her friend and love for over three hundred years. So, she now found herself in the dojo office waiting for Methos, the world's oldest Immortal and Duncan's current guardian.
       Nervously standing up, the beautiful thief paced over to the pictures on the office wall. One of the them caught her attention. Mac stood in the middle between Richie Ryan and Charlie DeSalvo. Both the other two men were dead and, if what Joe Dawson had told her was true, so was her beloved Duncan. He had always been the rock and the safety net she needed when she had gotten herself into trouble. Now, the shoe was on the other foot. Duncan needed her and all his friends. He was the center of her world and her total concern at present. Everything else, including Nick Wolfe, suddenly took a back seat.
       "Amanda?" a cultured, British voice spoke to her from the open doorway.
       Turning around, the face she saw had much the same lines and shadows of fatigue that had been on Dawson's face. Only this time, it was on that of the eldest Immortal. She quickly closed the short distance between them and hugged his neck, planting a soft kiss on his pale, left cheek.
       Methos abruptly pushed the woman back. "What do you want, Amanda?"
       "I want to see Duncan."
       "Why?"
       Startled, she repeated his word. "Why? Because he's my oldest friend, that's why."
       Methos trod heavily to the side window and gazed sightlessly onto the busy street below. "He's not the same man, Amanda. He may never be our MacLeod, the eternal do-gooder, again."
       Her beige, linen dress rustled as she walked up behind Methos. Laying a gentle hand on the older man's shoulder, she haltingly whispered, "I know; Joe told me. Is he that bad, Methos?"
        The ancient turned to face her. "Worse. I won't have him upset, Amanda. He has enough to deal with, as it is."
       Amanda grew tired of Methos' objections. "Methos, Adam," she corrected herself, "I love that man, too."
       "He's not a man anymore, Amanda!" he almost shouted. Dropping his voice, he hissed, "He's a child; he's a baby. He can't walk too well; he can't speak at all. He can't even feed himself!" his voice rose once again.
       Amanda sat down in the chair in shock. "I had no idea..."
       Methos towered over the subdued woman. "No, you didn't; now you do."
       Long moments of silence passed. Methos took the chair behind the desk and leaned back, folding his hands into a steeple shape.
       "I still want to see him, Methos. I want to help him as much as I can. I want to help you and Joe." Her ordinarily laughing eyes were now frigid with resolve. "I won't take no for an answer."
       Methos' hazel eyes leveled upon Amanda's determined face. The pretty, scatterbrained, pesky thief had apparently vanished. In her place was a cool, resolute, strong Immortal who knew who she was and would move heaven and earth to achieve her goals. He supposed her new boyfriend, an ex-cop turned private detective, was partially responsible. His name was Nick--something--or--other.
       The older Immortal's thoughts were drug back to the here and now.
       "Now, Methos. I want to see Duncan now... please."
       The ancient shrugged his shoulders. "Okay, but call me Adam Pierson. He's too young to know about Immortals or that damned game."
       She mutely nodded and followed her friend to the freight elevator. Amanda thought she was prepared for the sight before her; she'd promised herself she wouldn't cry. One look at what was left of Duncan MacLeod proved she was not and tears quickly welled up, stinging and blurring her vision.
       Duncan was on an antique Persian rug in the center of the room. His legs were crossed and a raggedy teddy bear sat in his lap. His ordinarily graceful warrior's left hand was awkwardly grasping a large, wooden building block. He was ineptly trying to place it onto another one. Duncan's right hand, which had once expertly wielded a Katana sword, was now held up to his lush, kissable mouth. The Scot was noisily sucking his thumb. He had not acknowledged his friends' arrival, although Joe Dawson had and rose to greet them.
       Methos came up behind her and placed his comforting hands on her shoulders. "Are you sure you want to do this, Amanda?" he whispered in her ear.
       "Yes."
       Dawson nodded at the lovely Immortal whose mascara was now smudged. He gave her a tight hug and followed Pierson to the refrigerator for a beer.
       Amanda walked slowly toward the Highlander, not wanting to frighten him.
       Duncan looked up at last and stared at the newcomer.
       "Hi, Duncan, my name is Amanda." she began and sank to the floor beside him.
       Duncan's head hurt again, but he wasn't able to understand why. Plus, the pretty lady across from him was upset. He wondered about that, too. Maybe she'd like my thumb. It always makes me feel better. his young mind thought. Mac pulled it out of his mouth and held the slobbery digit in front of the pretty lady so she could taste it. He cocked his head when, instead of making her better, she
soundlessly began to cry. Somehow, deep inside him, Duncan felt he knew her. Shyly, he scooted closer to her and patted her knee. He then thrust Master Teddy at her. His bear would know how to make her feel better and smile.
       Amanda's broken heart flip-flopped when her handsome, witty, flirtatious hunk offered her his teddy bear. She dropped her head so he wouldn't see her cry even more tears. Dear God in heaven, why this man?
       The female Immortal brushed the moisture from her eyes. Feeling a touch on her left cheek, she saw Duncan's thumb wipe off one of her teardrops. He then leaned in and gave her a wet kiss in the same place.
       Her big, brown-eyed, Boy Scout had performed that same magical touch hundreds of times for her in the more than 350 years they had known each other. Oddly enough, none of those other instances meant as much to her as this one had. His unique, caring, gentle soul had noticed she was in pain and sought to ease it.
       Amanda smiled and clasped MacLeod's callused hand. "Thank you, Duncan. I'm all right, really I am."
       Pierson leaned over and handed the pretty thief a tumbler of whiskey. She took it and gratefully smiled.
       Duncan, seeing that his new friend had something to drink wanted some, too. Whining, he reached for the glass that held the shiny, brown liquid. It looked like it would taste really good.
       Adam had anticipated this so he gave Mac a blue plastic cup. It had a round, domed lid on top with a spout to drink out of. "Here, big guy, this is for you. It's orange juice, your favorite."
       Duncan gazed longingly at Amanda's glass, wanting to refuse what his Uncle Adam was trying to give him. He just wanted to taste a little of it.
       Amanda suppressed a grin and countered, "You drink your juice, Duncan. It tastes a lot better than this old stuff."
       Evidently, the Scot debated his choice a few seconds before accepting his own cup from his guardian. He gulped down a swallow and grinned. He then flopped over onto his side and guzzled the juice.
       Not missing anything and feeling her tears wanting to return, Amanda swallowed a large drink of the liquor. She doggedly restrained her emotions and concentrated instead upon the burning in her throat and upper chest from the fiery liquid. In fact, she welcomed the momentary discomfort; it helped her refocus her scattered thoughts upon a more important matter, namely helping her friend and sometimes lover, Duncan MacLeod or the shell that remained of him.

       Amanda divided the concoction she'd prepared among the four plates. She hadn't fixed fried potatoes, sausage and scrambled eggs in at least fifty years.
"Um, smells good, lovely lady." complimented Dawson.
       He took his own plate to the table Methos had recently bought. The eldest Immortal hoped Duncan might eat better if they all sat down at a table instead of perching on stools around the bar. Speaking of which, Joe looked around to see where the honery little cuss was.
       MacLeod sat entranced in front of the television set watching a very old Tom and Jerry cartoon. Every once in a while, he'd giggle and hold up Master Teddy to see when the black cat was yet again outfoxed by the little mouse.
       "Duncan, it's supper time; come on over here." the gray headed man called. He had always called MacLeod "Mac," but in the Highlander's present condition, it didn't seem appropriate. It was as if it were too old a name for the youngster the Immortal now was.
       When the Watcher was essentially ignored by his Watcher assignment, he switched his cane to his left hand and made his way over to the Scot who hadn't moved from his cross-legged position on the floor.
       Joe patted Mac's shoulder. "Let's eat, Duncan."
       At just that moment, Tom howled as Jerry lit a stick of dynamite he had tied to the cat's tail. The Scot chortled with glee and pointed towards the screen before looking up at his Uncle Joe.
       Dawson chuckled at the perturbed look on the now burnt cat and the playful expression on MacLeod's face. "You like that, don't you."
       Duncan heartily nodded and turned over. Using his customary part crawl on his hands and knees, he followed his Watcher to the table.

       Halfway through the meal, Methos had to admit the food, though simple fare, was good. He didn't know the attractive blonde was such a good cook. Mac had always complained about her "god-awful casseroles" she regularly tried out on him. Methos absently held out a spoonful of the main course to MacLeod's closed mouth.
"Duncan, you have to eat; one more bite. C'mon, like a good boy."
       The Highland child was busy watching Amanda spoon some sugar into her coffee. He held out a beseeching hand, demonstrating to his Uncle that he wanted some of that, too.
       Methos sighed and groused, "That kid always wants everybody else's food but not his own."
       Methos sat like a cat poised for its prey. When the Highlander absently opened his mouth, the ancient popped in the spoonful of food. To Methos' surprise, he actually ate it and didn't spit it out on the plate or all over Methos face.
       Joe laughed. "Well, isn't that what kids do? How long has it been since you had to raise a kid, Adam?"
       "Eight hundred years, give or take a few." Methos replied.
       Amanda made a derogatory sound, teasing the ancient.
       Methos frowned and retorted, "Um-hum, and how long has it been for you, Miss-Mother-of-the-Month?"
       The thief wrinkled her cute little nose and gestured, "Oh, at least half that long, why?"
       The Watcher laughed at both of them before sipping his coffee. He then caught their attention and nodded over at the Highlander. Duncan yawned, his eyes heavy with sleep. All three adults smiled at their "child." Methos pushed back his chair and went around to the Scot who was almost asleep.
       "Duncan? Time for bed, sweetie."
       Adam ignored the smirk on Amanda's face at his nickname for his charge. Unable to get MacLeod to move, Methos lifted him up into his arms and carried him over to the king sized bed at the rear of the loft. Amanda scooted over there, too, and pulled down the covers. The former Horseman, who'd killed thousands in his dark, early years, brushed Mac's long hair off his face. He then removed the youngster's shoes and socks and tugged the covers up over the already sleeping Highlander.
Methos leaned over one more time and softly kissed the Scot's cheek. He didn't see the broad grin on his two companions' faces. As he had since Duncan had been injured, he switched on a night light plugged into the light socket beside the bed. Mac frequently had nightmares and would wake up screaming. Sometimes, it was Richie's name he called, other times it was Methos' own name. Still, regretfully, there were the nights when the Highlander relived the devastating robbery at the grocery store. The elder Immortal had found that Duncan slept better with a light on all the time.
       He made sure the Highlander was comfortable before rejoining his friends. Joe and Amanda had taken their cups and drifted over to the sofa. Methos took a beer out of the refrigerator and joined them.
       When all three adults were settled, Amanda focused her very serious expressive face upon that of the oldest Immortal's. "Okay, Methos, tell me exactly what happened."

       Amanda watched as Duncan peeked around her. He had spotted the present she'd brought him. Even after three days spent helping Methos and Joe care for the injured MacLeod, she was still distressed upon seeing her former lover. She laughed as the insatiably nosy Highland child crawled and half scooted over to the package.
       The paper was white and covered with balloons of various shapes and sizes. Duncan ogled the present and picked at its large red bow. He then glanced up at his Uncle Adam who sat perched on the sofa's arm. When his guardian nodded his permission, the youngster gleefully tore at the ribbon and paper.
       Amanda twisted around so she could watch. Joe joined them and handed the eldest Immortal a beer. He always stopped by to see the Immortals before heading for his tavern.
       "Duncan loves presents." the Watcher explained. "We can't keep him out of them."
       The three adults grinned when the now shredded paper was cast aside and MacLeod's fingers fruitlessly tugged on the sealed carton box. Methos stood up and joined the youngster on the floor. "Here, Duncan, let me help you."
Amanda leaned back on her arms as she watched the two Immortals interact. The difference this time being, instead of friends, they were more like father and son.
       Methos reached into his jeans and withdrew his pocket knife. He made quick work of the scotch tape seals. Unfortunately, neither he nor the other two adults noticed Duncan's sudden absorption in the little straight thingy that had opened his present so easily.
       His attention was easily diverted back to the box when his Uncle Adam set it on his lap. The ancient then opened up the tissue paper concealing the present. Mac's warm chestnut eyes grew as large as saucers when the box revealed a black toy engine and attached coal car. Methos removed the circular train track and put it together on the floor.
       Amanda, meanwhile, moved over to the other side of the Scot and showed him how to flip the toy's switch and set it on the track. It took off around the trestle, whistle blaring, wheels clacking and lights flashing. Duncan squealed with delight and commenced crawling all around the small track, following his new toy. Even so, the Highland youngster's left arm tightly clutched Master Teddy.
       Methos placed his hands over his ears at the noisy toy. "Something tells me the batteries in that thing are going to get lost tonight."
       The lovely woman pouted and playfully stuck her tongue out at the elder man. "Don't you dare, Adam Pierson; he loves it."

       "Duncan, here, eat some of this." Adam pleaded.
       Taking a spoon of mashed potatoes, he held it up for the younger man. Duncan batted his long eyelashes and swirled his head around to look outside the window. Methos had been trying, yet again, to get him to eat. He had hoped that with Amanda still here Duncan's appetite would improve. At least he was gnawing a raw carrot. That was a start.
       "Duncan? Look at me." the female Immortal encouraged.
       She hadn't said too much about Duncan's eating patterns. It was obvious to her since she knew his gorgeous body so very well that he had lost some weight. When the Scot at last glanced her direction, she picked up his spoon and piled up a spoonful of roast beef. Amanda's left hand turned his face toward her. All of a sudden Duncan noticed the blue neck scarf Nick had given her and reached a finger out to touch the filmy material. Amanda took the opportunity to plop the bite of meat into his mouth. In his distraction, he started chewing the tender morsel.
       "At last; maybe he'll eat for you." Adam murmured.
       Amanda smiled as Duncan continued to trace patterns on the material. "He'll start eating on his own before too much longer, Adam. Then mealtime won't be such a trial."
       "I hope you're right. Joe usually stops by on his way home from the club. If Duncan isn't asleep by then, he plays his guitar. That usually does the trick."
       The woman continued to feed MacLeod. She glanced over at her older friend. "It's really been tough for you, hasn't it." she quietly observed.
       Methos had a momentary expression of surprise on his face at her astuteness. He nodded. "I never thought I'd ever be doing this. I mean, it's like raising a child. Unfortunately, Duncan's six feet tall and weighs more than I do. At least, he used to; he's lost some pounds since the shooting." Methos reached over and fondled a strand of the Highlander's hair now days. "I can easily pick him up and carry him." When he saw the wry grin on Amanda's face, Adam added, "Well, most of the time."
       After a few bites, Duncan once again lost interest in his food. Methos did manage to get him to drink a glass of milk. Methos didn't have a problem getting the Highlander to drink fluids. It was just solid foods that was hard to get into him. The ancient was pulled out of his mind-wanderings when his charge craned his neck around to gaze longingly at his train engine. Master Teddy was already in his lap. Duncan would not go anywhere without the stuffed animal.
       Methos frowned and Amanda laughed; they both read their Highland youngster's mind. He relented. "Oh, okay, Duncan; you can go play."
       A beaming smile wreathed his handsome face. Duncan promptly slid off the stool and pounced onto the toy. Flipping the switch, he was oblivious to the other Immortals' frowns and placing their hands over their ears.
       "So help me, Amanda, I'm going to kill you for that one."
       She laughed. "Well, I picked one he'd like. You have to hand it to me."

       "Duncan, it's time for your bath." Adam called to the younger man.
       MacLeod pretended to not hear his uncle. He was having too much fun playing with Master Teddy and his new train. Intentionally flipping the engine's switch, he clapped his hands and giggled when its whistle blew loudly and its red and green lights flashed. Mac picked up his bear from its customary site between his legs and held it up so that it, too, could see the engine and coal car.
       Methos had been lying on the couch and reading the daily newspaper. It was never an easy thing to coax the Scot into the bathtub since his injury. Like any other two or three year old, he was always having too much fun playing to be bothered with a bath.
       The ancient sighed and tossed his paper onto the cushion and went to MacLeod who was sprawled over the floor with his beloved toy bear and train. He patted Mac's back. "Duncan, you've got to clean up before Uncle Joe and Amanda get here." That was another curious thing. Amanda could not conceive of being anyone's aunt, let alone Duncan MacLeod's.
       The youngster shook his head and shrugged off his uncle's hand. Glancing out of the corner of one eye, Duncan watched Uncle Adam place his hands on his hips. That meant Duncan had stretched his limits and would get a licking if he didn't mind. Slinging his full lower lip out in disgruntlement, the Scot agilely rose and followed his guardian into the bathroom.
       Adam turned on both faucets and adjusted the water temperature. As an afterthought, he picked up the plastic bottle of Mr. Bubble Bubbleberry bubble bath. Amanda had brought it with her yesterday along with the train. He squeezed a generous amount into the tub.
Duncan spotted the distinctive bubble bath container and yelped in anticipation. Bubbles were fun to play with; he could fluff them and blow them in Uncle Adam's face. He could play with his tugboat and watch it float in the bubbly water.
       Methos chuckled as the now ecstatic youngster jumped up and down and twisted in impatience. Grabbing at the wigglesome Scot's shirt buttons, he regretted having dressed him in a regular shirt and jeans that morning.
       The elder Immortal finally managed to unbutton the last button on the dark blue shirt and tugged it off the Highlander's broad shoulders. Duncan's jeans, however, were almost a lost cause. They were, that is, until he reached around and popped Duncan's butt with the flat of his hand.
       Duncan's brown eyes and mouth flew open in surprise. In the fraction of the moment the younger man was still, Adam was able to unfasten the button and slide the pants' zipper down and jerk them down to the Scot's hips.
       "Sit down on the commode seat, Duncan, and let me take your jeans off." Adam firmly ordered.
       The young Immortal's lower lip quivered but he did as he was bade. He opened his mouth to try to ask his uncle what he'd done to deserve the lick but his mouth didn't seem to work at the same time his thoughts did. So, instead, Duncan hung his head while he was quickly divested of both his jeans and underpants.
       "Okay, Duncan, hop in the tub and I'll add some more bubbles. Would you like that?" Methos asked, a big grin on his face.
       Duncan nodded his head, stuck one foot in the warm water and promptly forgot what he was sad about. He had his very own bubble bath in which to play.
       Making sure the Scot was sitting down, the ancient breathed a big sigh. He truly enjoyed taking care of the Highlander in his quandary, but there were times when it was tough swallowing his own desires and needs. He had admired MacLeod's magnificent body from a distance even before the two of them officially met. Having his wet dreams of a naked Duncan MacLeod waiting for him in bed had become a reality. Unfortunately, now was not the time to get a hard-on; the youngster had no memories of his past or even their friendship. Methos didn't like to think about it, but he was afraid Duncan might never fully recover. If he didn't, Methos intended to protect the generous, big-hearted Highlander as long as either one of them lived. He might have to be on the move all the time to protect MacLeod from head hunters, but that would be okay, too. The Horseman once known as Death was prepared to move heaven and earth for the beautiful Scotsman.
       All of a sudden, the elder Immortal was yanked from his daydreams as a big splash of soap suds and water splattered his angular face. Roaring and wiping the bubbles from his eyes, his hazel gaze focused on the mischievous, devilish grin illuminating the handsome face of the man of his dreams.
       "You think that's funny, do you?" Methos growled. Grabbing up a handful of bubbles and water, he splashed it onto the screeching youngster who retaliated until the entire bathroom and both men were soaking wet and covered in purplish-hued bubbles.
       "What in the world is going on in here?" demanded a gravelly voice.
       Both Immortals' laughter waned when Methos looked around to see Joe Dawson standing in the now open doorway. The older Immortal pinked in mild embarrassment as the younger one giggled in happiness.
       "I was giving Duncan a bath." Methos lamely alibied.
       The Watcher shook his head and quipped, "Who was giving who a bath?"

THREE

        Duncan sat near the window, his chin propped on his hand. His dark hair draped around his shoulders and down his back, teasing the belt of his jeans. The purple polo shirt he wore highlighted the mossy greenish-brown of his eyes. He was the picture of an innocent, devastatingly handsome man. The only problem was he had the mind of a young child who didn't recall any of the past four hundred years of his immortal life.
       Mac's russet eyes reflected a faraway, dreamy look in them as he gazed upon the rapidly warming, summer morning. He watched the cars dart back and forth on the street below. Duncan even got to see the garbage truck drive into the ally, lift up the dumpster and empty its contents into its receptacle.
       After the truck pulled out and went on its way, Duncan looked to the left. He could see a park a few blocks away. How he wanted to go there and look at the green trees and grass. He bet it had squirrels and birds and maybe even children to play with. Duncan would ask his Unka Adam or Unka Joe or maybe, even Amanda, the pretty lady who always seemed so sad.
       Duncan halted his random thoughts and remembered with harsh clarity, he couldn't talk. He opened his lush mouth and formed an oval shape. Duncan then blew out a big breath and tried to form the word Adam. In fact, he tried two or three times but couldn't quite make the sounds come out. Frustrated, MacLeod laid his cheek upon the window sill and brushed an impatient fist over his suddenly misty eyes.
        I'm just stupid! Everyone can talk but me! he derided himself in his child's mind.
       "Duncan? Honey? Are you okay?" Amanda asked, kneeling down beside the Scot. She leaned over and laid her white, closely shorn head beside Duncan's on the window sill. The beautiful Immortal rolled her eyes over at her former lover. "What do you see, Duncan?" she soothingly asked.
       MacLeod lifted his face and rubbed his eyes again. He pointed toward the park and gazed longingly at the peaceful commons.
       "Would you like to go there, Duncan?" she asked, a conspiratorial gleam in her eye.
       The Highlander's head bobbed up and nodded vigorously. He sat up and began crawling on the floor toward Master Teddy who was lying on the couch.
        This might be a way to get him to walk. Amanda mused. She stood up and walked toward the sofa. Sitting down, she pulled the toy bear into her lap. Aloud, she said, "Duncan, you have to walk by yourself if I take you."
       A panicky, frustrated look flooded his face. Dropping his head in dejection, the Scot grabbed his bear and flopped back down on the floor, scooting away from her.
       Amanda turned his head toward her and lifted his chin. "Duncan, honey, you can do it; I know you can." She glided to her feet and held out both her hands. "Here, I'll help you." she coaxed.
       Mac's eyes were huge from obvious fright. Even so, the same courage he'd demonstrated throughout his life came to the fore now, as well. He looked up expectantly toward her.
       The pretty thief patted the sofa. "Come closer, Duncan, and take my hands."
       He did as he was bade. Amanda gently took his bear and laid it back on the couch. She then cradled his raised hands in her own.
       "Duncan, I want you to get your feet under you and pull yourself up until you're kneeling. Hold onto the couch as you do so."
       Amanda moved and placed her slender form alongside the Scot's. Tucking her arm beneath his left shoulder, she held Mac's extended left hand in her firm grasp.
       Duncan grabbed the couch's arm with his right hand and tucked his feet underneath him, lifting himself until he was in a kneeling position on unsteady knees. He flicked a quick glance at his friend's smiling face.
       "That's it, Duncan. Now, very easily, stand up."
       MacLeod gingerly pushed himself up and placed his left foot flat on the floor. Once he was in that position, he pulled his right foot up and levered his body erect.
       Amanda beamed with pride for her Highland Boy Scout. It didn't matter that he clung tightly to the arm of the furniture. Nor was it important that the Raven supported his tall frame with her willowy body. Duncan MacLeod was standing up!
       "Yes, that's it! That's great!" she bragged. "That's my guy! You're doing it!"
       Amanda felt the approach of an oncoming Immortal, but relaxed her instinctive apprehension when she saw Methos open the stairway door with his key. The well-built woman smiled and winked at the new arrival.
       Adam silently approached the Highland child. He didn't want to startle him and cause him to fall. Instead, he circuited the loft until MacLeod was able to see him.
       Duncan glanced up and saw his Uncle Adam grinning. He unconsciously removed his right hand from the sofa and waved wiggly fingers at his Uncle.
Methos didn't begin to express his inner joy at seeing Mac standing on his own two feet. This was a beginning.
       "You look great, Duncan. Can you walk towards me?" he asked, holding both arms out.
       Duncan wavered and grabbed the back of the leather couch. Amanda slipped her right arm around the Scot's waist.
       "It's okay, Duncan, you can do it; I'll be right with you." she consoled the nervous younger man.
       Methos took another step towards MacLeod. "You can do this, Duncan. Take one step at a time."
       The Highlander swallowed heavily and gingerly stepped out with his right foot. He then drew his left one up until it was even with his other one.
       "Keep coming, Duncan. You're doing fine." Adam murmured.
       At the same time, Amanda patted his broad back and reassured, "I'm right here, Duncan. I'm not going to turn you loose."
       Step by long step, MacLeod progressed until he'd walked the three feet, although it had seemed a lot further to him, until he reached his Unka Adam.
       Methos wrapped his arms around the Scot's body. Patting him on the back and complimenting him on the good work he'd done, he kept the Scot in his embrace.
       Amanda joined the men and hugged both necks. She quipped aloud, "Group hug, Duncan, group hug."
       Duncan grinned and planted a moist kiss to each of his friends' cheeks.
       When they broke apart, Methos helped Mac sit down in a chair. He then joined Amanda in the kitchen. She reached into the refrigerator and removed the gallon jug of orange juice. The pert female rinsed out Duncan's plastic cup and poured some into it.
       "How did you do it, Amanda?" the ancient hissed, removing two beers for himself and the woman.
       She smiled her Cheshire Cat smile and smugly replied, "I guess I just have the touch." Then she laughed. "No, really, Duncan was sitting by the window over there. He must have been day dreaming about the outside and spotted the Seaside Park. I asked him if he wanted to go there and he beamed. Then, I told him, before he could go, he'd have to walk by himself. He progressed from there. You know, Methos, once Duncan MacLeod sets his mind to something..."
       Adam smiled and finished the sentence. "Yeah, he does it."

       "You mean he actually walked, Adam?" Joe Dawson asked in wonderment.
       The elder Immortal nodded. "Sure did, Joe. Of course, he had a bit of help from Amanda, but he did it."
       The Watcher's experience weathered face beamed. "Well, I'll be damned; this is great! Maybe there's hope for that boy yet."
       Methos nodded. "Maybe." Pierson looked askance. "We'll have to wait and see, Joseph."
       The Highlander was securely tucked into bed and asleep. Methos removed two beers from the refrigerator and handed one to the blues man. Sinking down onto the sofa, he gulped down a large swallow of the brew and sighed, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
       Dawson was silent for a moment before quietly observing, "It's good to see him laugh and smile. I just wish he could talk."
       Methos nodded. "He wants to; he just can't quite connect the two functions of his thoughts and speech together."
       Joe noticed the longing upon his friend's face as he gazed at the sleeping man. "This must be tough on you, Adam."
       The Immortal managed a wry smile and replied, "The toughest job I've ever had, but I wouldn't trade it, Joe, not for anything."
       The bearded mortal grinned, "You love him a lot, don't you."
       Methos took another swallow of beer and nodded his head. "Yes, I guess I do.
       The Watcher was silent for a long while, half waiting for the ancient to continue his thought. When none was forthcoming, he looked first at Methos and then over his shoulder towards MacLeod.
       At last, Methos sighed. "Okay, Dawson, out with it. Tell me whatever you're thinking."
       Joe leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. "Adam, I know you don't want to hear this, but what'll you do if Mac doesn't come out of it?"
       The elder man whose ordinarily youthful face now shadowed and paled. In that split second he showed every one of his five thousand years. It was somehow, more ominous than the one Kronos had known. Even his usual lilting British accented voice lowered a decibel and evoked a graveyard, ashen tone.
       "I'll do whatever it takes to keep Duncan MacLeod alive, Joe."
       Dawson couldn't help but shiver just a bit from the icy resolve demonstrated in that one comment.

       Methos softly lowered the gate and waved a last time at the departing Watcher. He then went into the bathroom and showered, donning a T-shirt and a pair of boxers. The ancient started to climb into bed but had a forethought. Instead, he gently nudged MacLeod's shoulder.
       "Duncan, do you need to go to the bathroom?"
       One mahogany eye peeped open and a sleepy head nodded.
       "Well, come on and I'll help you."
       Still half asleep and acting upon old skills, MacLeod crawled out of bed and step by step made it into the rest room. Methos had him turn around and sit down on the commode seat. Mac wasn't quite as steady as he'd like him to be.
       Before long, the Scot was again in bed. This time, the weary Horseman joined him. Methos laid down and turned onto his left side to face MacLeod, whose back was to him. He leaned over and bussed Mac's shoulder.
       "Night, Duncan."
       Adam smiled when the Highlander squirmed backwards until he was safely ensconced in the ancient's embrace. They were both asleep within minutes.

       Once MacLeod's long unused leg muscles strengthened, Adam and Amanda had a time keeping him out of things. His childlike, inquisitive mind and quick steps found him in the kitchen cabinets, in the bathroom, prowling through the shelves of books and even into the wardrobe housing the liquor and both Immortals' clothes. After a particularly trying afternoon of "No, Duncan, get out of there, Duncan" and "That's not for little boys to play with, Duncan." and "Absolutely not, young man," Adam's even temper boiled over.
       "Duncan MacLeod, if you don't sit down in one place and not touch another thing for at least one hour, I'll tan your britches!"
       Duncan jumped at his uncle's shout and caused the pots and pans to fall out of the cabinet and onto the floor with a loud crash. He immediately back peddled himself from the scene of chaos he'd caused and popped his thumb into his mouth, sucking on it furiously. I just wanted to see what was behind the closed door. Why is Unka Adam so upset?
       Methos switched off the vacuum cleaner he'd been using and sat down on the couch. He patted the seat beside him. "Duncan, come over here a moment and sit beside me."
       When the Highlander had clambered to his feet and joined his guardian on the couch, Adam turned himself so that he faced the quivering fledgling.
       "I don't want you to hurt yourself, Duncan. Can you understand that?"
       The Scot kept on sucking his thumb but slowly nodded his head.
       "That means not getting into things I've told you not to touch." He took Mac's hands in his own. "Now, then, if you're a good boy, Amanda and I will take you to the park this afternoon..." he had to pause when Duncan began bouncing up and down on the leather couch. "...but that means you need to play quietly until then. Go over there with your train and Master Teddy until she gets here."
       MacLeod stood up but quickly sat back down. He leaned over and pecked a fleeting kiss on the ancient's cheek as a gesture of thanks. Methos grinned and hugged the younger man.
       "I love you, too, Duncan." Adam stood, turned the Scot back around and swatted a love pat to the seat of his jeans. "Now, go show Teddy the train."
       Pierson waited until he made sure the Scot was absorbed with his toys before switching the vacuum back on and finishing the cleaning. He wanted the loft straight before a certain little thief showed up and razzed him about his tidiness.

continued in Chapter Four