Rated PG-13. Brief violence and some mature concepts.
This is not part of any of my Time Force series; it's a one-shot standalone. While this is written mostly for Time Force fans, it should be at least understandable for fans of either show, or in fact neither. It's also a prequel for a longer crossover.
At the time of writing this, I had never seen an episode of Highlander the series, and had only a hazy memory of the original movie. Mucho thanks goes to Rach, aka The Fink, for answering endless questions, explaining background, pointing me to good HL fanfic (and writing it herself), and not least for beta reading.
He awoke with a jolt, every muscle contracting as he gasped for breath. There was a sensation almost like electricity flowing in his veins... but it faded quickly. Disoriented, he raised his head to find himself lying face down on hard earth sparsely covered in a litter of dead leaves.
Memory took only another moment to return. The dinosaur... it had knocked him off the edge. An effort to move brought a wave of pain. His shoulder felt broken, or dislocated at least. Wincing, clutching his arm, he climbed to his feet and stared up. The sheer side of the cliff towered over him, must be a couple of hundred feet at least. His morpher had been drained of power... There was no sign of anything that could have broken his fall... How could he possibly have survived? And Eric... what had happened to him? If the dinosaur had gotten him he was beyond help by now. Had to look for him - for a ride home, if nothing else - but there was no way up, not from here, anyway. After a last puzzled glance at the top of the cliff he looked around, picked a direction and started walking. Busy searching for an easier place to start climbing, he hardly noticed when his shoulder stopped hurting.
He gasped sharply, his body jerking abruptly back into life, his thoughts retreating from hazy dreams of times long gone. It hadn't gotten easier over the centuries, this business of dying and returning, but at least now he was used to it. Almost.
Where...? As his breathing slowed back to normal, he opened his eyes to find a stark white ceiling staring down at him in dim lighting. A quick look around revealed bare white walls. Bare, except for one. It was covered with silver plates, each with a handle in the center, each about two feet square. He was lying on a long, flat shelf that extended out into the room from an opening in that wall. An opening just like the ones all of those silver plates covered, just big enough for a human body.
With a quick movement he sat up, as if afraid someone would come along and slide the drawer he was on into that wall, sealing him up. He shivered. It was cold here, and the thin sheet that was the only thing covering his naked body was no help. Morgues. He hated them. This wasn't the first one he had come back in. At least this time he hadn't been sealed inside a tiny cubicle. And that was strange. Had the attendant forgotten to close the drawer? Or was he coming back? But no, most of the lights were off. It must be nighttime, with everyone gone home.
And it was only then that he felt it. The subtle current across his nerves, the sixth sense that told him he was not alone. There was another of his own kind here, and very close. He jumped to his feet, quickly wrapping the sheet around his waist, wishing he had a weapon.
"Don't worry, I'm not after your head. If I was, I could have taken it while you were helpless." It was a man's voice, coming from the shadows of a far corner of the room where only a dim human outline was visible.
"Who are you?" he demanded. "What are you doing here?"
"I've had quite a few names, over the years. Not even sure I remember them all. The latest is Patrick Wilford. As for what I'm doing here, that should be obvious. I've been waiting for you to rejoin the land of the living. Must say, it took you long enough."
"Molecular disruptor weapons are no joke. They continue to cause damage for hours, even after death."
"I wasn't criticizing."
He looked around, and spotted a lab coat lying discarded over a chair in the corner. With a few quick steps he crossed the room and picked it up. Wouldn't be smart to turn his back, so he simply dropped the sheet and pulled the coat on.
The movement had brought him to the light switch. He touched it, and took his first good look at the other occupant of the room, who was sitting on another chair against the opposite wall. Not an especially impressive individual, a good-looking man, that was true, but otherwise someone he wouldn't have given a second glance to. Until he caught the aura of an Immortal.
"Wilford. I don't know the name."
"No reason you should. I'm only a lowly security guard here."
Yes, the man was wearing a familiar uniform. "Here. Time Force?"
"The Time Force morgue, yes. And please, call me Patrick."
"You still haven't told me why you're here."
"I wanted to talk to you."
He snorted. "Why should I want to talk to you?"
"For one thing, I was kind enough to open your drawer, so you wouldn't wake up trapped and in the dark. I know how that feels."
He shivered again. "So do I. Thank you for that."
"The least I could do for someone who died in the line of duty. You're quite the hero, you know. Alex Drake, the red Ranger, who gave up his life in the service of all humanity." There was only the slightest hint of irony in his voice.
The memory of a rooftop. A tall, big man with long black hair and a disfigured face. A fight. Fire and pain. Mocking laughter. Jen's tearful face looking down at him as he sank into darkness. 'You and me... Forever...'
"Ransik killed me. I was hoping I could prevent it..." Alex felt his stomach knot. "Jen - she's gone to 2001 after him, hasn't she?"
"Jennifer Scotts? That pretty brunette you're engaged to?"
He felt a sudden wash of cold fear and hot anger. "If you go near Jen, I'll-"
"Relax." Patrick smiled, seemingly genuinely. "I have no designs on your fiancée, even if she was still here. Yes, she went back through time after Ransik, along with three other officers."
Alex pressed a trembling hand to his forehead, closing his eyes. "I should have known I'd lose her again. But I love her so much... I let myself forget. I shut it out, convinced myself things could be different this time."
The voice was gentle now. "I've been in love a few times myself."
"I've cared for many women. But I've been in love only once. And now it's over, again."
"I heard they took the morphers, including yours. Jen's a good officer, and she has a good team to back her up. Don't lose hope that she'll be back."
"It's too late. It was always too late." Alex wasn't listening as he paced a few steps, clenching his fists. "I failed. I knew - but I still couldn't stop Ransik. He defeated me... escaped... I knew I was dying. And I sent her after him." He gave a humorless bark of laughter. "Full circle... I used to think we all make our own destiny. But now I know I'm just a pawn for fate to move around, to use for its own purposes. And to destroy when it's done with me."
Patrick looked genuinely puzzled. "This is about more than your recent demise and your fiancée being in danger, isn't it?"
"It's about - I guess it's about my whole life."
"Tell me."
Alex stopped and faced him. "Why should you care?"
The other man shrugged. "Why not? Perhaps I'd like to hear about somebody's troubles besides my own. Perhaps I'm grateful to you for defending the world from Ransik and his mutant criminals. Perhaps - perhaps I'd like a friendship that will last more than a few quick decades. Some of us do become friends, you know. Some of us even help each other."
"And why should I want to tell you?"
"Because something's obviously eating you up." Patrick watched him closely. "Don't worry about me revealing any secrets you might tell. I have too many of my own to be indiscrete. Starting with my Immortality."
He had a point. Medical science in the year 3000 knew that Immortals existed. That secret had been out for over a hundred years, even if there was no practical way yet to detect them or any answers to the questions of what created them or how a previously ordinary person could become Immortal when he or she met a violent 'death'.
Patrick kept his Immortality a secret for the same reason Alex did. Friends, co-workers, and loved ones might say they had no problem with it, might even act as if it were true, but inevitably many relationships ended in fear or envy and resentment, especially as ordinary humans aged and Immortals did not. As humans died from a myriad of causes while Immortals could die permanently only from beheading. And that wasn't the worst of it. The society of this time - or any time, in his experience - did not take well to those who were different, especially those who seemed able to escape what humans feared most - death. If word got out to the public, his life would be worse than any mutant's.
Still... Alex felt his lip curl. "Every Immortal I've met has been a violent, treacherous killer, slicing off heads to take each other's life-force, committing cold-blooded murder and calling it a game. Why should you be any different?"
"I admit, in general we're not a peaceful bunch. But then, neither are mortals. And like mortals, we're all different. From what I've seen so far, you certainly are."
"Different. Yes, that's a good description." Alex paused, his eyes staring at a blank white wall, but seeing the sheer side of a cliff rising above him. "Different. How many other Immortals have been killed by a dinosaur?"
"A dinosaur?" Patrick paused, and a smile tweaked the corners of his mouth. "Just how old are you, anyway?"
"One thousand and twenty-five years."
"But-"
"Have you ever heard of Wesley Collins?"
"The name's not familiar."
"It used to be mine. A thousand years ago."
"The name you grew up with?"
"Yes." Alex sat in the chair and took a shaky breath. "You really want to hear about it?"
"Absolutely."
"Where should I start?"
"The obvious place. The beginning."
"The beginning? It began the day I met Jen... not as Alex Drake, but as Wes Collins, a thousand years ago..."
"Excuse me!"
"Sorry," Wes said automatically. Through the visor of his motorcycle helmet he saw that the person who had bumped into him was a woman, early twenties, brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing an odd white jumpsuit. She was also very pretty. Too bad he had no excuse to stop and talk to her, he thought, as he started the 'cycle and pulled away from the curb.
"You mean you first met Jen while she was in the past, on the mission she just left for, to capture Ransik?"
"That's right. It's hard to get your mind around it, isn't it? The first time I met her, in 2001, she was already engaged to me. When she first met me in our time, I had already loved her for a thousand years."
"Makes my head hurt. And that was it? No sparks? No fireworks?"
Alex gave him a disapproving look. "No. But the next time was more dramatic. It was only a few minutes later..."
Wes grumbled a curse under his breath. Damn wrong turn. Now he had to go back around the mall. As he saw the entrance to one of the parking lots he slowed and leaned into the turn. The shortcut would save him a few minutes. Or maybe not, as he saw the same pretty girl he had bumped into struggling in the grip of two strange, metallic, robot-like creatures.
"Ah, that's more like it. You rode to her rescue."
"Yes. I took care of the two cyclobots and went to check on her. Katie, Lucas, and Trip - the officers who went with her - came running in. That's when I took off my helmet and she got her first good look at my face."
They were all staring at him in astonishment, exclaiming in disbelief. But the brown-haired woman had reacted with more than surprise. Tears sparkled in her eyes, and pain mingled with shock on her face. The others distracted him for a moment, especially the tall black woman who squeezed his cheeks and said he looked just like Alex. Whoever that was.It was long enough for thewoman he had rescued to control her strange reaction. She stepped between him and her friends and thanked him in a way that clearly said he was no longer needed. Then he was back on his motorcycle, finding only a moment to wonder just why the mystery girl had looked at him as if he was the ghost of someone she loved.
"That's exactly what I was, to her. It was only hours after she had held me - Alex - in her arms as I died. I can only imagine how she felt, seeing what she thought was my double."
"So she met you again, as Wes this time. Not knowing you were the same person."
"I wasn't the same person. I was very different then. As she pointed out when she came to my house, asking for a favor. She wanted me to use the red morpher, to activate it, so she and the others could activate theirs." Alex smiled at the memory. "I thought she was crazy, and I told her so..."
"I knew you wouldn't help us! You're nothing like him!"
Jen shot him a last furious glare before turning and starting away. But she stopped at the strange sound Wes realized was coming from the device on her wrist, which was just like the gizmo she had tried to put on him. She raised her arm and touched it. An amazingly lifelike image appeared above her wrist device and Wes recognized the green-haired kid who had been with her at the mall. The brief conversation mentioned an attack on the city, and with a firm squaring of her shoulders she was on her way. Wes watched her go. She was definitely crazy, with all that talk about mutants and morphers and being from the future. But she was also very pretty. And he had seen something in her eyes, determination perhaps, or maybe a strength of character, that refused to let him just sit without finding out whether there was any grain of truth to her story. After a silent debate with himself, he started up his motorcycle and took off after her.
"She offered you the morpher?"
Alex smiled, irrationally pleased at the surprise in Patrick's voice. "Yes. When Jen went back in time to recapture Ransik, she gave my own morpher back to me, although neither of us knew it."
"Why? She didn't seem to like you very much."
"She didn't. Not at first. But the morpher was locked to my genetic code, and the other morphers were locked to mine. They needed someone to use it, and they tried me because of the resemblance. I helped them that day, when Ransik attacked them. That was the first time I became a Ranger. Then... Jen took the morpher away from me again, after the fight. I was angry.
"When I really thought about it, later, back at home, I realized she had been right. In those days, I was just a spoiled kid, looking for excitement. Morphing into the red Ranger, fighting, it was all a game to me. I was feeling pretty low when Trip came to see me at my house, and told me about how important their mission was, about how Ransik had escaped, and why Jen couldn't stand to look at me."
"He told you about how Ransik killed Alex? I mean, about how he killed you?"
"Yes. I could understand how she felt then, and why she was acting that way. It took a little time for her to get over her reaction to my appearance, but I tried hard to show her I was serious about helping them. Soon, she came around. I guess she realized that they needed me, not only as the red Ranger, but as a friend, to find them a place to live and a way to survive in 2001."
"Speaking of the red Ranger, didn't you think it was strange that you could use the morpher when it was genetically locked to - uh - you?"
"Sure. It was strange. But none of us could have suspected the truth."
Wes took a break, leaning on the mop he was using to clean the grimy floor. He took a look around. It was actually starting to look like a place his new friends from the future could live in. He smiled. Things had looked bad for a while there when he had led them into the old clock tower his father owned. As Jen, Lucas, Trip, and Katie had looked around, faces full of dismay, for a moment he had seen it through their eyes: not as the home he had pulled strings to arrange for them but as a huge, dark, filthy room half filled with junk and garbage. Surprisingly, it had been Jen who had accepted it first, stepping to the stone-framed windows overlooking the city and pronouncing it 'perfect'.
Which still left the task of cleaning it up. Jen was on the other side of the room, busy scrubbing the steps leading up to the balcony they had decided to make their sleeping quarters. Lucas and Katie were dusting off an old picnic table they had found in the pile of discarded furniture in the middle of the room. Trip was nearby, filling a garbage bag with trash. Wes wiped sweat from his forehead, the morpher catching his eye as his arm lowered. He'd only had it for a few days now, since Jen had relented and let him keep it, so the weight and feel of it on his wrist was still strange and exciting. It was hard to believe this was happening, that he was using a device that hadn't been invented yet, teaming up with four people who hadn't been born yet, to fight a mutant criminal who hadn't been - born, created, whatever - yet. Kind of awe-inspiring. "Why me?" he said, half to himself. "Huh?" Trip looked up at the question. "I was just wondering - why did Jen come to me to activate the morpher? Couldn't one of you have done it instead?" "No. It's locked to Alex's genetic code." Trip glanced around at Jen, but she was too far away to hear. "With him - gone - we needed someone with the same DNA." "But..." Wes frowned. "I know I look like him, except for the hair. But that doesn't mean we have the same DNA." "I know. We wouldn't have even tried, but we were desperate. I - I don't really understand it either." Trip looked almost embarrassed. "Doesn't seem possible..." Wes shrugged. "But it worked. So I guess there's no point worrying about it."
"So - you teamed up with Jen and the others a thousand years ago." Patrick shook his head. "By having lived through it in the past, you know how Jen's mission is going to turn out. In a way, you know our future."
"Yeah, I guess I do. If things go the same way, Jen, Trip, Katie, Lucas, and I will capture Ransik." He paused. "With some help from Eric."
"Eric? He's not one of Jen's team."
Alex smiled again, but this time he felt an edge of sadness behind it. "No, he certainly wasn't. Eric didn't do teamwork."
"So how did he help you?"
"You probably know that the Quantum Morpher and the Q-Rex were lost in the distant past during an early time travel experiment. In 2001, the morpher turned up in an archaeological dig. Eric Myers had joined the Silver Guardians, a private police force for my father's company, Bio-Lab. When Ransik tried to take the morpher, Eric ended up stealing it for himself."
"Sounds like my kind of guy."
"He had some interesting qualities. As soon as he had the morpher, of course he wanted the Q-Rex too. So when Ransik sent one of his mutants after it through a timehole, Eric followed, and I hitched a ride..."
"And I don't need your help!"
Eric's angry face was uncomfortably close as he grabbed Wes's shirt collar, yanked him nearer, and then roughly shoved him back and off-balance. Wes stumbled and fell into the undergrowth of the prehistoric forest. He landed hard, and was starting to get up when he noticed a large nest within reach. Eggs... and they were hatching. He stared at the tiny green two-legged reptiles emerging, torn between disbelief and awe, for the moment forgetting his quarrel with Eric. And then there was another distraction as he heard a sound. A low thump, as of an impossibly heavy footstep. Another. They were coming closer. "Eric..." The only answer was an impatient gesture as they both looked around, anxiety turning into terror in a heartbeat as they saw the cause of the sound - a creature, as big as a building, a mouth full of huge teeth, glaring at them out of tiny malevolent eyes, and moving faster than he would have thought possible...
"You ran into a dinosaur. And it attacked you."
"Right."
"So that was the dinosaur that killed you?"
"Yes. It chased us for quite a distance. We managed to get away the first time it cornered us, but then we ran into a cliff, and it had us. I pushed Eric out of the way, but it knocked me off. Our morphers were still drained of power after our trip through the timehole. I fell. To my death, although I didn't know that at the time."
"What did you think had happened when you woke up?"
Alex shrugged. "I had no idea. Thought I was just lucky, or that the morpher had saved me somehow anyway."
A faint smile crossed Patrick's face. "Some of us don't know what we are for years... But didn't you think it was strange when your injuries started healing almost immediately?"
"Sure I did. But - being an Immortal with superhuman healing abilities wasn't high on my list of possibilities. Besides, I had other things to worry about. Like defeating Ransik. Falling in love with Jen. Trying to get past Eric's hostility. Even - coming face to face with myself."
He felt it. It was subtle, but definitely there. A tingle, a buzz, a whisper at the back of his consciousness. Probably an aftereffect of a stray blast he had gotten in the fight that had just ended. He kept smiling at Lucas and Katie, hardly aware of Jen and Trip talking in a more serious tone as she said something about capturing Ransik before he could change history. But when another voice cut through the smoky air, his nerves tightened in response.
"It's already too late." He spotted the man at once, just a hazy figure at first, then coming closer at a deliberate pace, stepping through the debris left by the mutant they had just defeated. He was wearing white, a jumpsuit with black trim, the same uniform Jen and the others had been wearing when he first met them. A Time Force uniform. Wes's eyes widened as the odd sensation he felt grew stronger. The man stopped, facing Jen and Trip. His expression was stern and emotionless, his face half-hidden by sunglasses but oddly familiar until he raised a hand and removed them. And Wes found himself staring into his own face.
"You mean you're going to go to 2001 too?"
"Yes, to help Jen and the team during a crisis. I don't know the details; it won't happen for a few months."
"So you were literally looking at your own face."
"I didn't know it then, of course. And I had no idea I was sensing the presence of an Immortal. I thought the strange feeling I had was just a gut reaction to meeting my double, along with jealousy at having Jen's fiancé show up alive."
"So you were in love with her by that point."
Alex sighed. "Yes, I was in love with her almost from the beginning, but that moment was the first time I really realized it, when I saw her with him."
"How did she react to him - I mean you - showing up when she thought he - you - whatever - was dead?"
"She was overjoyed. The way she hugged him, and touched his face..."
"You mean your face. She loves you."
"But not for long." Alex ran his fingers through his hair and tried to smile. "Strange. Both times I've been with Jen I'm the one who broke us up. I never really had anything with her as Wes because she was engaged to Alex, and now she'll return from 2001 in love with Wes."
"But they're both you."
"I'm not so sure." Patrick seemed about to protest, but Alex ignored him. "I wasn't there for most of what happened next. When I found out my father had been badly injured in one of Ransik's attacks I gave the red morpher to Alex. Then I spent the next two days either in the hospital or at Bio-Lab, his company, trying to step into his shoes and failing miserably." He smiled briefly. "Pissed the hell out of Eric. I'm not sure if it was because he thought he'd have to take orders from me, or because he figured I was so incompetent the place would go out of business.
"Anyway, in the end I decided to help my friends and Eric when the fight against Frax was going badly. I rejoined the team when Alex gave back my morpher. Now I can appreciate what that must have cost him. Soon enough I'll be the one doing it."
"And your father? Your company?"
"Dad pulled through, with a little help..."
"It was you, wasn't it? You saved my father." Wes looked into his double's face as they stood on the beach, trying to read some expression behind his dark glasses, and was rewarded by the faint trace of a smile and the slightest of nods. He tried to look puzzled and skeptical, but a grin threatened to break through. "Wasn't that playing with destiny?"
"We all make our own destiny. You taught me that."
"I actually used to believe that." Alex stared at his hands, clasped loosely in his lap, for a few seconds before going on. "For a long time I wondered just why he did it. Now, I know. Dad... He was my father too. By adoption, of course, but that never mattered to either of us."
Patrick sat silently for a moment. "So you returned to our time. I mean, you will return to our time."
"Yes."
"Time travel gives me a headache." He smiled and leaned an elbow on his knee. "As Wes, you were part of the Ranger team, fighting Ransik and his mutants. You must have been injured sometimes. Weren't the other Rangers suspicious when you healed almost immediately?"
"I seem to have been weaker than most Immortals. When I'd been badly hurt, minor injuries might take hours or even days to heal, as if my body only had enough energy for the important things like keeping me alive and functioning. After a fight, I'd look hurt, for a while, on the surface." Alex grimaced. "I used to pretend to be in pain when I wasn't. I knew something was going on, but I had no way of knowing what."
He followed Jen to the kitchen, still pressing the icepack to his face. Not that he really needed it; the pain was already gone, leaving only discolored skin around his eye and at the corner of his mouth as a visible reminder of the savage beating he had gotten only a couple of hours ago. Even those bruises seemed to be fading every time he looked at them. For a moment he felt uneasy. The way Jen had knocked him around - he had taken several hard kicks in the head and chest from an expert at personal combat. He should be a mass of painful bruises and cuts right now, if not broken bones.
There had to be an explanation. Jen had been under some kind of mind control, but maybe she had resisted it enough to hold back a little. That must be it; she had taken it easy on him, but the shock of having her attack him like that had made it seem worse than it really was. With a mental shrug he decided to forget it. Not being hurt was hardly something to worry about. The sight of Jen bending over their small oven and the warmth of her smile as she offered him a cookie in apology for what she had done almost dispelled the lingering image of her throwing him into a pile of crates. He dismissed the memory of the sharp pain of impact and of falling to the concrete floor, and most of all the moment when he could have sworn he heard his own ribs snap like twigs.
"You're right, even for an Immortal, you're different." Patrick watched as Alex only shrugged. "You said you, Jen, and the others defeated Ransik in 2001?"
"Eventually. And Jen, Trip, Lucas, and Katie went home."
"That must have been hard. Saying goodbye."
"Yes, it was. Especially saying goodbye to Jen." Alex bowed his head. That day was still as vivid in his memory as if it had been only hours ago, instead of centuries...
Sunlight sparkled on the ocean water. Sand crunched under his feet. There were other people on the beach, watching. His father and Eric and a squad of Silver Guardians. But all he saw was her face, all he felt was her arms tight around his neck, all he heard was her voice.
"I should have told you a long time ago... I love you." He squeezed his eyes shut. They were already damp from the goodbyes he had said to Lucas, Katie, and Trip, but the pain of this parting was beyond the self-control he tried to hang on to. "I love you too..." He held Jen tighter, as if he could stop her from leaving, as if he could keep her here by sheer determination. But reality could not be denied. In a few short minutes they would be separated forever, not by distance, but by time, the one thing all his Ranger power, all his father's money, and all his love could not break through. In the agony of that moment, he said what was in his heart. "I wish I could live a thousand years, so we could be together again."
"That was the last thing I said to her. Ironic, isn't it? I did live that thousand years. And we were together again. I thought we could be happy, at first. I knew she had loved me as Wes, but what difference did that make? She had loved me, whether the past or present me.
"Then I began to think about it, as the time got nearer when she would go back after Ransik. She fell in love with Wes - and out of love with me. I realized we were two very different people now, Wes and I. A thousand years changes you. Jen wants what I was, not what I am today. I became jealous. Of myself." Alex shook his head. "I decided to change my fate. With what I knew of his plans, I thought I could stop Ransik. But everything happened just the way Trip told me it happened. No way to stop it. Now, she's back in 2001, with him..."
Patrick was watching him intently. "But if you had stopped Ransik here and now, Jen would never have gone back in time after him. You would never have become a Ranger as Wes Collins. You might have lived a normal life, died of old age, and never have become Immortal."
Alex found himself standing tensely, fists clenched. "If only I had! Immortality is a curse! Living on and on, while everyone I care about ages and dies. Always being alone. Every twenty years or so having to move on because people are starting to notice I don't get older. So many times I've wished to be free of it, to just have an ordinary life, and an ordinary death."
"You would never have met Jen."
"Yes... But maybe that would have been better too. Better than loving her for a thousand years, only to lose her again - to myself."
"Maybe. But - we all have to play the hand we're dealt. You are an Immortal." Patrick sat quietly as Alex pulled his self-control back together and took his seat again. "You said you didn't know right away. How long before you suspected the truth?"
"Not until long after Jen and the others were gone. After I accepted the offer my father made that day on the beach, to join the Silver Guardians as co-commander with Eric. Not for more than thirty years."
"Unusual. You mean no other Immortals contacted you? You never had a teacher? And yet you survived?"
"I told you my Quickening was very weak, at least back then. I could feel other Immortals only faintly, without knowing what it meant. But it was also hard for others to sense me. Those few who did probably didn't find my small amount of power to be worth the effort of taking my head. Until..."
"Until what?"
"Until the worst day of my life. Worse even than when Jen left. The day I met my first Immortal, and took my first head. The day my life as Wesley Collins ended." Alex took a deep breath, the room around him seeming to fade into another place, another time, the face of the man watching him seeming to become another, harder, squarer face.
"Wes, will you cut the crap and just say yes?"
Wes regarded his partner with considerable amusement as they finished changing out of their uniforms in the Silver Guardians' locker room. Despite the gray hairs and thickened waistline that the last thirty-two years had brought to Eric, his manner was just as sharp as ever. "But I can't come over for every holiday," he protested. "You should be with your family on Christmas." "And what are you? Chopped liver?" "Well, thanks, but I don't feel right... What does your wife say about it?" "She does what I tell her." Wes snorted. "Yeah, that'll be the day. Really, she might not like having me around all the time." Eric grinned. "She likes you. Ask her if you want." "I will." "So it's settled. You're coming." Wes gave a pretended sigh of resignation. He still felt a little guilty, but also touched. Ever since his father had died a few years ago they had gone through the same routine before every major holiday. Wes had never married and had no children or other family, and Eric seemed determined not to let him be alone. "Okay, you win, I'll be there. You leaving now?" "Gonna call home. You go on ahead."
"So you and Eric became friends."
"Yes, we did. He didn't change much over the years. He was always bad-tempered, impatient, rude. Never lost those rough edges. But he was also always loyal and brave, and had a kind heart, even if he tried to hide it. Strangely enough, we became close friends. On that day, I found out just how brave and loyal he was."
As he left the locker room, Wes threw an automatic glance in the mirror. He paused, seeing a face untouched by wrinkles or sag, not a hint of gray in dirty-blond hair. His image looked exactly the same as it had when he was twenty-six. Exactly the same. For a long time he had simply assumed he was lucky enough to have good genes, to be one of those people who aged very well. But now - at fifty-eight, he looked less than half his age. People were starting to react with more than simple envy. It was beginning to seem - unnatural.
That thought was still on his mind as he headed into the parking lot, empty this long after usual business hours. It was a dark, moonless night, and he left the walkway and moved between the pools of light shed by the lamps surrounding the lot. Then he felt it. That same buzz, that tingle, the feeling that had come to him a few times over the years, but now as strong as when he had looked into Alex's face... "Wesley Collins, I presume." Wes whirled, and saw him with an instinctive surge of fear. A man, a little taller than himself, wearing a long black coat. Something silver glinted at his side as he stepped closer and stopped, eyes catching the light from a bony, angular face. "Who are you? What do you want?" "I suppose you should know the name of the one who takes your head. Call me Gabriel. Like the angel." "What are you talking about? Take my head?" Wes fell back a step, for a moment wishing he and Eric hadn't decided to stop wearing their morphers and left them locked up safely at home. On the other hand, he shouldn't need a morpher to defend himself from one man. Or not... Gabriel lifted his arms, revealing two short but very nasty-looking sabers, one in each hand. He brought them up into an attack position and began to advance. "Hey... What the hell...?" But Wes had no more time to protest as one of the weapons swung at him. He jumped back, barely dodging, yelping as the edge caught him across the chest. He looked down to see his shirt neatly sliced, the red of blood spraying - but the bleeding slowed and stopped almost immediately, and the pain began to fade. Gabriel grinned savagely and jumped at him with frightening speed, an arm raised to slash again. Wes ducked and spun to the side, kicking out as he completed the turn, catching his attacker in the elbow. Gabriel grunted as one of the sabers went flying to clatter to the cement a couple of yards away. But it didn't slow him down; he kicked back as Wes drove a fist at him. His boot hit Wes's knee, hard, with an audible crack. With a cry Wes fell, for a moment blinded by pain. He looked up to see Gabriel above him, face alight with triumph, the blade high, gleaming in the light before it started down, directly at his neck... Wes lunged into a roll, coming back to his hands and knees, expecting to hear the clang of metal on concrete. But it never came. Gabriel staggered forward, lost his balance, and fell. He came back up onto one knee, glaring. "What the hell is going on here?" Eric snarled at him. "None of your concern, mortal!" "It's my concern when some asshole tries to chop up my partner!" Gabriel didn't answer, except to leap up and charge. Eric twisted out of his way and hit him with a sidekick. But Gabriel was fast, too fast; he swung the saber backhanded at Eric, forcing him to jump away to avoid the blow. Gabriel was after him again in an instant. Wes was on his feet, the agonizing pain from his broken knee already easing. A glint of light from the fallen saber caught his eye and he dived for it, then turned back to the fight. The two other men were face to face, struggling, Gabriel trying to strike with his remaining sword while Eric held him off. Maybe the years had weakened Eric, and slowed him down. Maybe this time he was up against an opponent who was simply too strong for him. Wes watched in horror as Gabriel twisted his arm free, brought the blade around and drove it in, hilt deep, under Eric's ribs. "Noooo!" Wes screamed, his vision seeming to blur into a red haze, seeing Gabriel push Eric back and pull the sword out, red with blood. Wes's body seemed to act on its own as his mind froze, his arm swinging the saber in his hand; then Gabriel's startled look as his head spun into a graceful arc before bouncing on the cement...
"I - I don't remember everything. I know I cut off Gabriel's head. Maybe some kind of instinct told me that's the only way to destroy an Immortal. There was so much blood... And then - you know what happened then. It was like nothing I'd ever experienced before. Like a storm around us. Gabriel's body seemed almost to come alive; the power glowed from it. It flowed into me on bolts of lightning, and I could feel it making me stronger."
"You absorbed his Quickening. Added his energy to your own."
"Yes. I can still feel it in me, some part of his - his soul, if you want to call it that." Alex stopped for a moment, and took a breath. "When it ended I was stunned, in shock, completely overwhelmed. But I saw that Eric was still alive. I went to him, tried to stop his bleeding with my hands. He looked up at me..."
"Wes..."
"Don't try to talk. I'll get help; you'll be okay." "That light... What happened?" He glanced at Gabriel's body and quickly back. "I don't know." "I saw you... Wes..." Eric's eyes held his, filled with pain, but there was awe there too, and a hint of fear. "What... What are you...?" "I'm - I'm your friend, Eric. Always have been. Always will be."
"He smiled at me then. And he was gone." Alex felt his lips trembling and looked away.
"I'm sorry."
"Some of us think mortal lives are less important because they're short. But having so little time makes every moment even more precious. Gabriel took the years Eric should have had left, to retire, and take it easy, and watch his grandkids grow up."
"Yes, I know." Patrick's voice was low, and held a note of sadness. "Gabriel deserved what you gave him."
"That's the one killing I've never regretted." Alex sighed. "I knew then that whatever I was, it wasn't human. That Eric had died because of it. And that there were more like me. After that, I couldn't go back to being Wesley Collins. I stayed long enough to see Eric buried, to make sure his family was all right, and that Bio-Lab would go on without me. Then I left. Changed my name. Became a new person."
"Just as we all end up doing."
"For a long time I just drifted, moving around, taking a new name every ten or twenty years. Not letting myself get attached to anyone. I learned about Immortals, bit by bit. Once I understood what the feeling I got around other Immortals meant, I tried to avoid them. It didn't always work; a few found me, and challenged me." Alex raised his eyes to Patrick's face. "I never took a head willingly, but when they made it clear that it was kill or be killed..."
There was something almost chilling in Patrick's smile. "Some of us are all too eager to play the Game to its conclusion, until there is only one, all-powerful Immortal."
"Yes... I found that I wanted to live. I had realized that in time, the wish I had so foolishly made could come true. I would have the chance to be together with Jen again."
"You waited for her for a thousand years?"
"There were other women. I'm not a saint, or a hermit. I even loved some of them. But it was always Jen I dreamed of, and wished for. Yes, I waited.
"Then, when the time seemed right, I joined Time Force. Whether I dyed my hair black because I usually try to change my appearance when taking a new identity or because I knew Alex's hair was dark, I really can't say. I watched, and waited again. For Jen to apply to the Force. To be accepted. To join. And for us to meet..."
His heart seemed to leap when he saw her, and to fall back into place with a bump. Just as he remembered, even across a thousand years. Brown hair tied back in a ponytail, expression serious and a little sad, a helmet in her hand. Jen.
He had wondered over the years if he would still feel the same way. After all, it was so long ago, he had been so young, and time had changed him. But at that moment he knew his feelings had only grown deeper with centuries of longing and anticipation. And now, the moment was here, and he had to make this look natural. As far as she was concerned, they were meeting for the first time, as an experienced Time Force officer and a rookie. Slowly, he made his way towards her along the sidewalk, trying so hard not to be caught looking that he ended up bumping into her. With a startled movement, she dropped her helmet. "I'm... I'm sorry," Jen said with a nervous glance at his face, and began to bend down to pick it up. "No, I'm sorry." Alex quickly reached past her and retrieved the helmet, brushing a few grains of dirt off before giving it to her. He smiled. Jen looked at him again, this time with real interest. Her lips curved, and there it was; that beautiful smile that lit up her face. The smile he had waited a thousand years to see again.
"All I asked was the chance to be with her for the brief span of her lifetime. Just to have a few decades of happiness, before I would have to move on. Now, I've lost even that." Alex looked away, staring bleakly at a blank, stark, empty wall. "It's over. I'm no longer what she wants."
Patrick was silent for a while, perhaps respecting his dark mood. When he spoke again, his voice was soft. "Don't give up so easily. No one knows what the future will bring, not even you. Whatever Jen loved in you as Wes is still there, somewhere. You just have to show it to her again."
"Even if I don't know what it is?"
"Why not ask her?"
"And tell her what I am? I don't think so."
"At least think about it."
"What's the point? I'm through as Alex Drake, anyway. How am I going to explain the fact that I'm still alive, without admitting that I'm an Immortal?"
"Maybe there's a way." Patrick paused until Alex looked up at him. "A few people do survive disruptor weapons. Some of them have gone into a deep coma, but been revived. They tried an experimental regenerator on you; it could have had a delayed effect. As for your 'death' - doctors have been known to make mistakes."
Alex frowned. "No one would believe that. The doctors will deny it - test results will be released..."
"Don't be so sure. Time Force command may suspect the truth, but they'll realize what an asset an Immortal could be, especially if no one knows what he is. A Ranger who can't be killed by ordinary means... And you still have the morpher, don't you?"
"My morpher." Alex looked down at his bare wrist. "I've kept it all this time, even while I used its earlier version. Yes, I still have it."
"Command will make sure the official story is that you survived, and that the announcement of your death was a mistake. There's no real evidence to contradict that. Sure, some people will suspect, but they'll have no proof."
"What about Captain Logan? He'll know something's wrong..."
"Captain Logan will be no problem." Patrick smiled as if at some inner joke. "He's made quite a hobby out of - watching your career. He won't question your recovery." There was another pause, as Alex stared down at the floor, thinking. "You still have to play out your role in this, anyway. Stay long enough to see it out; long enough for Ransik to be captured and for Jen and the others to return."
It might work. But... "Jen. What am I going to tell her?"
"Whatever you want. Maybe even the truth. Now, lie down and pretend to be unconscious. I'll say I was on my regular patrol of the building, heard a noise, and found you alive."
It seemed easiest to simply do what he said. Alex took off the lab coat and tossed it back on the chair, picked up his sheet and obediently lay down on the drawer where he had come back to life. "Why are you doing this for me?" he asked, as he stared up at the ceiling again.
"Like I said, maybe I want a friend. And you never know when I may need a favor." His words were followed by the crackle of a communicator, and he spoke again in a crisp and urgent tone. "Hello, patrol command? Wilford reporting. I've got a situation in the morgue. Request backup and a medical team immediately. You're not going to believe this..."
Alex only half listened. He still had his part to play, his lines to speak, in the drama that was unfolding here and in the past. And after it was over...? When Jen returned, her heart no longer his but devoted to his former self, when there was no longer a purpose to his endless life? What then? As he closed his eyes, Patrick's words echoed in his mind. Tell her the truth... could he take that chance? And then - who could tell what the future might bring.