Highlander 1. Chapter 1

Denial

Richie had a lot of time to think, being that he was being held hostage by a psycho. Plenty of time to berate himself for being a dumbass, and plenty of time for the fear to build until the darkness under the blindfold was almost crushing him. He had been at the movies that night with some friends. Mac and Tessa never specifically said so but he knew they felt better if he was going someplace specific, not just to his old neighborhood or a friend's house or something. Richie always chuckled as he detailed his plans to the pair. Obviously it had been a while since Mac had been a teenage boy if he thought that would keep Richie out of trouble. Still Richie never really planned to get into trouble; he must just be easy for trouble to find.

There had been a woman, isn't there always. Not for the first time did he curse his libido. She had been pretty, blonde like so many of the women Richie dated. She was older, maybe a little out of his league, but it never hurt to try right? Apparently it did, a lot. He had offered her a ride and a very built man had jumped him on the way to his bike.

He had come to, blindfolded and chained spread-eagled to a lumpy mattress. Very tightly chained and there was also a chain across his waist. Struggling and screaming had brought no one to check on him, until she came. Richie knew that it was the female accomplice by the voice. "Hello Richie."

"Listen you sick bitch…" Richie didn't hear her coming closer until he felt the slap that rocked his whole head to the side. But it only created a pause in his outburst; he continued in a lower voice, "MacLeod is going to kill you, you know? He's good." The sound of her laughter came from right above him.

"Let's not talk about the men; they'll take care of themselves. You should be more worried about yourself." Richie was worried, worried that he wouldn't even see the final blow coming, but he was also worried for MacLeod. Richie hadn't known the couple that long, but they were special. They had accepted and trusted him, worried over him and supported him. Mac didn't deserve this. If he survived and Mac died, he didn't know if he could face Tess.

Richie was surprised by fingers tracing his lips. He could feel her breath on his face when she spoke again. "What should we do to pass the time?" There was a touch of laughter in the question that made Richie tense. Then he felt lips pressing against his own. He scrunched his face, turning away.

"What are you doing?" His answer was another harsh slap accompanied by grating laughter.

"Don't worry, you'll enjoy it." The sound of her voice was really starting to get to him, but he kept his mouth shut. He could feel her hands go underneath his shirt, pushing it up to bunch under his armpits. His attempts to struggle against his restraints were a waste of time; they were so tight that all he could do was flex the muscles in his arms and chest. He could feel her fingertips moving down again, close to his nipples, and then she was pinching them hard in retaliation for his struggles. He hissed in pain, but then went still as he felt her tongue lapping at the abused nubs.

Richie felt like he was hyperventilating. He couldn't tell what the woman was up to, couldn't tell what would happen next, whether her next touch would be painful or soft. It was freaking him out. He felt completely vulnerable and out of control. The not knowing was killing him. The bed moved, presumably with the woman's weight, something brushed against his jean-clad thigh.

The fingers unbuttoning his jeans shocked him out of his stunned silence. "Stop!" He spoke without thinking, but now gritted his teeth and braced for a blow. It never came. The zipper was lowered, slowly, deliberately, her fingers brushing his limp sex meaningfully. He started at the touch, wanted to scream out. It was the fear of the unknown that kept him silent, for the moment at least.

His jeans and boxers were being tugged down roughly. She stopped when they were around his thighs, apparently satisfied. Richie barely breathed. When her hands began to manipulate his sex, he bucked his hips as much as he could at any rate, trying to throw her hands off.

"Oooh eager aren't we?" Her voice was oddly breathless, matching his own gasping rhythm. He couldn't seem to make his brain function enough to respond, but she didn't seem to be waiting one. Her manipulations continued, increased. He thrashed, his head rolling on the bedcovers. He had been fully hard for a few strokes, when the hands drew away.

He lay perfectly still, feeling her move on the mattress again. Without warning his sex was engulfed by something warm and wet, something…

"NO." The word was somewhere between a command and a wail. She moved, up and down on him, pressing him into the mattress rhythmically. All he could think about was Mac fighting for his life, Tessa worrying and pacing in the apartment, a knife plunging into his chest. Her touch disgusted him. He was disgusted with himself for having sex now. How could he even get hard? He felt himself ejaculate, but it was different. He felt bereft, betrayed, numb as she moved again, off of the mattress. He was oddly grateful that she pulled his jeans back up, covering the filth on him.

He lay there feeling helpless and trapped, trapped on the bed and in his own thoughts. Then he heard Mac's voice.


	2. Chapter 2

"Richie." Hands were tugging at his arms and legs, removing the chains but still the teen couldn't summon the energy to move. Finally the blindfold was removed and he stared up into MacLeod's apprehensive visage. "Richie? Are you hurt?"

Shaking off his lassitude, the teen answered in a small voice, "Naw Mac, I'm fine."

"Are you sure, tough guy?" Mac reached out his hand to touch Richie's shoulder, but the teen hopped off the bed.

"I'm fine! God just leave it alone!" Richie was suddenly inexplicably angry, pacing in front of the bed but keeping his head down. "Can we just leave?!" Suddenly the teen stopped and stood with a hand on his hip and the other over his mouth.

"Sure…of course." Duncan was confused by the teen's sudden outburst, but attributed it to the trauma of being kidnapped. He attempted to lead the boy out of the room with a hand but Richie kept just out of arm's reach. His movements were erratic, first the teen hung back as if not wanting to leave the room and then rushed from it like he'd been bitten. Several times, the older man saw him pause, turning almost towards Duncan as if to speak, but then Richie would continue walking.

They drove in silence. It was unnerving to Duncan, the only other times that Richie had been this quiet were when the teen had royally fucked up or at least thought he had. The immortal sighed. It would be like the boy to blame himself for getting kidnapped. "Richie what happened, when you were kidnapped?"

The boy feigned nonchalance answering with is own question, "What happened to the woman who was helping him?"

Duncan frowned, unsure of whether the question was meant to distract him from the real issue. "She got away." He shrugged, but noticed that it seemed important to Richie. "Why?"

Now it was Richie's turn to shrug, his body drawing even further away from the Highlander, squishing himself into the car door. "No reason…we uh…she had sex with me."

Duncan laughed, he couldn't help it. "Only you," he said after a moment. He was completely caught off guard by the outburst that followed.

"Fuck you! It's not like I was participating, I was tied down just like you found me!" Duncan was stunned. Richie leaned forward to rest his head in his hands, rubbing his forehead absently.

"Richie, don't talk like that!" He was stunned. Richie knew better than to say something like that. What exactly had gone on back there?

"Just forget it." Richie was still steaming. The immortal was saved from having to respond as they were pulling up next to the store.

Again, Richie rushed out of the car but stopped at the apartment door, shifting from one foot to another. Duncan knew that Richie wasn't waiting for him to catch up. The kid turned back a final time before racing through the door. When Duncan got inside, he didn't see Richie and then Tessa ran into his arms and he forgot about the kid for the rest of the night.

Meanwhile in Richie's bedroom, the teen was just sitting on the side of his bed. He could barely look at Mac or Tessa, afraid that they would see how pathetic he was; he crawled onto the bed in his clothes, wanting only to disappear. God, Mac had even laughed, no normal guy would say no to sex…As soon as his face hit the pillow however, he jumped back up. The mere feel of the mattress under him made him feel as if he was still there, still trapped, with that woman touching him…

He fled into the bathroom, practically falling onto his knees in front of the commode just in time to throw up what was left in his stomach. As soon as the spasming of his stomach stopped, he got gratefully into the shower. Belatedly he realized he was still wearing his clothes. He sank to the ground in defeat, covering his face with his hands. "Godammit! I can't do anything right apparently." An interminable amount of time later, he stood up and peeled off his sopping clothes. He just didn't know what to do with them. He couldn't put them in the laundry basket; they would make everything else in there wet and moldy. He could hang them over the shower rod but he didn't want anyone else to see them and wonder why they were wet. He ended up putting them in the trash; he didn't particularly want to ever see them again anyway.

He walked back into his bedroom, taking care to avoid the spot on the floor that squeaked. Once inside, he just stared at his bed though. He wandered over to his dresser and got out a pair of pajamas he had never used. Tessa had bought them for him. Then he went and sat in the chair in the corner. He couldn't seem to get comfortable enough in it to sleep, but eventually exhaustion won out.


	3. Chapter 3

Richie woke up early, having spent the night tossing and turning in the chair. He refused to sleep in the bed though. He had thought about going into the kitchen but didn't want to run into Mac or Tessa. He felt trapped again, now in his own room. He looked around it appraisingly. This was his home, more than anywhere had been in a long time. Mac despite the fact that Richie was sure he drove the immortal out of his mind with annoyance was the closest thing to a father the teen had ever had. He looked up to the guy, cared what Mac thought of him, and secretly modeled his behavior after the man. And Tessa…she was like an older sister. She looked after him and worried about him, babied him and bitched at him. They fought like cats and dogs and then sat up til midnight talking over hot chocolate. It had taken time to get them all to this point, they had all had to work at it and trust each other but now…now Richie felt like it was all slipping through his fingers. He didn't want to see them, didn't want them to look at him and 'know', know how pathetic he was.

Duncan knocked at the boy's door at the usual time, eight am an hour before the shop opened. There was a flurry of movement inside that he could hear it through the door. What was Richie doing in there? When Duncan looked in though, the teen was simply standing next to the bed, but he looked as if he had been caught doing something else. And he was wearing pajamas.

"You were up already?" Duncan asked the teen, suspiciously.

Richie shrugged. "I couldn't really sleep." The teen didn't look Duncan in the eye. He decided to leave it alone for now; Richie's defenses were already up. Maybe after breakfast…He left the room still obviously discomfited.

Twenty minutes later the redhead appeared in the doorway of the kitchen looking oddly hesitant. Finally he took his seat at the table. He was staring down at the plate as Duncan slid an omelet onto it. Minutes later when he slid into his own seat, Richie had neither said anything nor eaten anything. Now Duncan was scared. He had never seen the boy like this. Sullenly stomping around, yes. Stubbornly refusing to talk, yes. Being too upset to eat, yes. But never this quietness, this fading into the background, never this sense of hopelessness. He shared a long look with Tessa.

The Frenchwoman reached a hand out to stroke Richie's cheek, opened her mouth to speak, but the teen jumped back as if burned, knocking his chair over in the process. Tessa and Duncan stood up but the boy practically fell over himself in his hurry to pick up the chair and get out of the room. Richie fled the kitchen with a breathless, "Sorry." Tessa started to go after him but Duncan caught her hand.

He dropped back into his chair and pushed his own food around his plate, his appetite now gone as well. Beside him, he could feel Tessa tsking and moving restlessly. "What is the matter with him? Did anything happen to him last night? Did they hurt him somehow?"

Duncan thought hard. He didn't know what had happened to the kid. He had been kidnapped before, much to Duncan's chagrin. The boy had been hurt and threatened with death and that was just since moving in, much less the little Richie had told them of his past. The only thing he could think of was… "He told me last night that his female captor had sex with him while he was chained up. Do you think that could be it?"

Tessa's head snapped over to look at him. Her face showed a mixture of horror and 'how could you be so stupid'. Duncan assumed that last was directed at him. He tried to imagine how he would feel if the same had happened to him. If he were chained down and blindfolded, worried about Tessa and Richie, his own life threatened, and then to have someone touching him.

"He was raped," Tessa's voice brought him out of his reverie. He stared at her, allowing the words to sink in. Oh god he thought. How could this have happened? How could he have /let/ this happen to Richie?

They both looked up at a noise at the doorway drew their attention. Richie stood there, his eyes wide and impossibly blue against his suddenly white face. Even as they watched his expression changed, his features tightened in anger and his eyes deadened. "What?! I was not! How could you think…?" He was sputtering, unable to finish his thought or to think at all. Then he ran away again.


	4. Chapter 4

Sorry if this is taking a long time to finish. I'm enamored of this story's idea but it has been rather difficult to write. I'm not sure whether I'm happy with it yet. Please review with comments or suggestions and to remind me that someone cares whether I finish this or not (I'd finish it anyway but still).

Richie stood with his back against the door to his room, his breathing shaky. How can they think that? That I was raped, it was a woman, dammit! I'm not so pathetic that I'd let someone…But that's what happened wasn't it? Someone had touched him, had sex with him when he didn't want to. He felt nauseous suddenly and ran to the trash can, the only thing to come out being the water he had drunk.

Duncan had sat at the table for a moment after Richie left, trying to get his own emotions under control, but when Tessa began to get up he stopped her. He would go talk to Richie. He felt completely out of his depth but he needed to know what was going on, what Richie was feeling about this. Was it as serious as Tessa had made it or was this something that Richie would get over after a few days of being cranky and acting out? If Richie really hadn't wanted to have sex, he wouldn't have been able to, right? The boy probably just felt guilty, like Felicia.

Though Richie hadn't acted like this after Felicia. Richie had been quiet yes, on the drive home. The lad had expected to be thrown out! But once assured that that wasn't the case, Richie had apologized almost desperately to Duncan and Tessa both. And the next day, he had been almost overly cheerful and talkative.

Duncan opened the door to discover Richie kneeling over his trash can seeming disoriented. The teen raised a shaky hand to his forehead and then fell over on his side on the floor. "Richie…" Duncan raced over but before he could touch the teen, Richie rolled onto his back and shielded himself with his arms.

"Don't touch me!" The desperation in the youth's voice made the immortal stop his hand in mid-air.

Duncan sat back on his heels and lifted his hands up, palm out. "I'm not going to touch you. Just tell me what's wrong."

The teen immediately curled onto his side, clutching his stomach and pressing the side of his face into the carpet. "My stomach hurts," the boy whispered clenching his eyes shut.

"Ok," Duncan kept his voice calm and his hands away from the boy that he desperately wished to comfort. "Why don't you get in the bed then, we'll bring the trash can if you need it." But Richie just shook his head and curled tighter in on himself.

Duncan had to do something. "Come on, tough guy, let's get in the bed," he said in warning before he touched the panicked figure. But Richie rolled away and got unsteadily to his feet.

"No! I'm fine, it was just some nausea, I still have to open the store. I'm just gonna brush my teeth first." Duncan watched the teen from the floor. He felt off-balance. Maybe Richie was just sick, maybe he had the stomach flu. It would be like Richie to hide being sick. The boy did hate to be coddled though lord knew how he needed it.

Richie stayed in the bathroom for a moment before going to the store, trying to get himself under control. He felt like it was a lost cause; he had felt out of control since he had been kidnapped as if the whole universe were conspiring against him. A glance in the mirror was a bad idea; he definitely didn't want to see how pathetic he was. Just get over it he told himself.

Duncan found Tessa in her studio. At the sight of him, she stopped her work immediately and went over to him. "So what did he say?"

He rubbed his hands absently down her arms. "Tessa I…I don't think it's as serious as all that." The Frenchwoman stepped out of his reach and regarded him icily.

"Not serious Duncan, what did Richie say? Of course he'd be embarrassed, but we only want what's best for him." She crossed her arms, adopting a familiar self-righteous pose. "What do you think we should do then?"

"Nothing, if he needs to talk, he knows we're here for him." At her scoff, he continued quickly, "If he wants to act as if nothing happened, I think we should too." He stepped forward and drew her back into his embrace. "He'll be fine, he's a tough kid. He just needs some time." Tessa nodded grudgingly into his shirt, before lifting her face up to kiss her lover.

"I hope you're right."


	5. Chapter 5

When Richie got to the store he suddenly discovered that he didn't particularly feel like being around other people. He felt self-conscious like everyone was watching him and paranoid. He was watching the customers' movements to make sure they didn't get too close, close enough to touch him. He was so busy worrying and watching that he couldn't concentrate on actually working.

It seemed like he forgot everything, where a piece was from, how to wrap the purchases properly, even where the charge slips were. The low point was definitely when he broke a fifteen thousand dollar vase. He didn't mean to, he was turning away from the glass counter to get something and his arm must have knocked it. He stared horrified as it shattered on the ground.

"Holy shit!" Richie's exclamation caught the attention of everyone in the shop, but particularly Duncan MacLeod. The Highlander's face immediately darkened and he strode over to the shocked teenager, cutting a path through the customers who suddenly decided to look somewhere else.

Duncan gripped the boy's arm, pulling him close. "What is the matter with you?!" he said in a harsh whisper. "It's bad enough that you were careless enough to break a rare antique, but…" Duncan yanked the arm for emphasis. "You know better than to use language like that!"

The wide-eyed look on Richie's face disappeared to be replaced with a mask of anger. "Well if I'm so useless maybe you should just fire me!"

Richie wrenched his arm away and stormed off to his room. Duncan let him go. They both needed to calm down. He hadn't meant to grab the boy like that; he was just so frustrated by Richie's behavior. He had forgotten how skittish the lad was.

Richie's anger at Mac disappeared by the time he made it back to his room. His anger at himself however was another matter.

Why had he said that? He didn't want to leave, and now he certainly had nowhere to go.

Tessa was the one to call the boy to dinner. He tried to refuse, saying he wasn't hungry, but the Frenchwoman would have none of his excuses. He had missed breakfast and lunch! With a sigh, she sat on the bed and looked at the redhead curled in the nearby chair.

"Richie, you know you can talk to us about anything, non?"

Richie responded by rolling his eyes and giving a frustrated groan. "There's nothing to talk about!"

"Petit, I know how some rape victims are ashamed…" She was interrupted by Richie yelling.

"Stop saying that!"

But Tessa continued, undeterred. "Particularly with your past…"

"I was not raped and I was not an abused child! God!"

He was breathing heavily now, feeling like there was a tightness in his chest that was cutting off his air supply. He had never been /abused/, he was a trouble magnet and therefore got a few whaps upside the head and quite a few strappings as a child, and there had been fighting at school and in the group homes and then getting beaten up on the streets for walking into a gang's territory, but never abused!

"You need to talk about this," her voice was pleading and slightly desperate.

"How could you possibly know?!" The accusation sat in the air between them.

He was right, she thought. She had no idea what to do, how to make this better. It had been a foolish idea to think that he would open up to her. Nothing like this had ever happened to her and if it had, she had a wonderful and loving family to lean on. How could she think that she could be that to this boy who had already been through so much?

"I'm sorry," she said hurrying out of the room before letting the tears fall.

She ran into Duncan in the hallway and she let him hold her for a long moment before ushering him back into the kitchen. It didn't seem like any of them felt like eating dinner that night though.

"I told you we should have left it alone," Duncan broke the continued silence. Tessa dropped her fork and glared at the man.

"We have to do something, Duncan. Richie will starve himself to death at this rate."

"I know Tessa, but…let's just give it to the end of the week. He's a teenage boy, he'll snap out of it. He just needs a little push in the right direction, that's all." Duncan took a bite of his chicken, swallowing it despite that it tasted like ash in his mouth.

"Richie's not the only one who hasn't been eating well Tess." He looked pointedly at her untouched plate. The rest of the meal was spent in silent contemplation.


	6. Chapter 6

The next morning when Duncan woke the kid, he tried to be cheerful really he did. But Richie was determined to be as frustrating as possible. The teen was not in bed when Duncan came in but still begged not to have to have to work that day. Richie said he was sick. Normally the immortal would have insisted himself that the kid stay in bed after seeing the dark circles under the blue eyes, but things were not normal.

Then Richie was sullen all through breakfast, stubbornly refusing to eat the eggs and toast that Duncan prepared. Again Duncan almost relented when he saw the grimace on the kid's face as he took a bite of eggs, like the bite might be making a second appearance at any moment. They compromised on three bites of eggs and a glass of milk.

Then came actually working in the store, not that there was a lot of actual work happening for either of them. Every time Duncan turned around, Richie seemed to be staring off into space, completely forgetting about whatever he was doing. And every time Duncan would try to get the boy back on track it turned into a yelling match. Great for business.

Duncan tried desperately to control his temper. Richie wasn't doing this on purpose. That was the worst part though. He was a good kid and Duncan cared about him, probably more than the immortal should considering Richie's pre-immortal status. But Duncan wanted the kid to be healthy and happy and he wanted to be there for Richie if he ever did become immortal. He couldn't let Richie descend any further into this depression.

And Tessa, she was afraid to disturb them during the day, but was waiting in the kitchen with lunch already made when they took a break. Not that Richie would eat it. She looked like she could barely stand to be in the same room with the lad, could barely stand to see the changes in Richie and afraid that she would do something wrong, say something wrong. It couldn't go on, Duncan decided.

Three days passed like that. Then it was Friday night. Normally Richie would have a date, or three. He'd be flitting around, excited, telling them of his plans and asking Tess how he looked. Not sitting on the couch because Duncan forced him to after dinner instead of letting the kid run back to his room.

Duncan leveled a stern gaze at the kid sitting across from his place on the coffee table. "This can't go on."

Richie swallowed but didn't look up, so Duncan continued.

"You either need to talk to us about what's going on or we'll find you someone else to talk to. I just can't bear to see you like this tough guy."

Duncan knew that this was serious and he needed to be stern but he hoped that the love he felt for the lad was also apparent in his voice. But Richie never looked up, just nodded mutely.

They sat there in silence for a long moment. Duncan knew that the teen was waiting to be released back to his room so he obliged.

"Why don't you go back to your room and think about it tonight. We'll talk again in the morning." The immortal hoped the quiet frustration he felt wasn't noticeable to the lad. He wanted to be encouraging, he wanted his Richie back!

Richie sat curled up in the chair in his bedroom as he had for almost a week now. Feeling the burning of tears behind his eyes, he refused to let them fall. His hand shook as he raised a knuckle to his mouth, biting it to choke back the sobs that threatened to erupt from his exhausted frame.

He felt terrible, worn out, done in. He couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't concentrate. His stomach ached and his head throbbed continuously. And now Mac had delivered an ultimatum, shape up or ship out.

How many times had he heard that? As good as he had tried to be it never worked out. He always ended up back at the orphanage and then it was off to another family where all the rules were different. Until the day when he was fourteen and decided that it wasn't worth it anymore, that he wasn't going to waste anymore time trying to conform to everyone else's standards only to be punished anyway.

But Mac and Tess had been different. They knew that he was just a street punk and still invited him into their home, into Mac's confidence, their lives. They didn't pretend that all those years never existed but they did offer him a better life. He loved them dammit even if he hadn't told them and he had thought that they felt the same. Apparently not.

He didn't know what to do! He couldn't leave, didn't have the will to start over, to endure another betrayal. He couldn't pay attention long enough to work in a fucking antique store how was he supposed to survive on the streets again. And he was eighteen now.

He wanted to act normal, be normal again, but he knew he couldn't. It wasn't possible anymore. He couldn't control anything, his temper, his fear, even his body betrayed him. He was no longer allowed to make any decisions for himself, Mac just told him what to do, when to get up, when to eat, to work. He had ruined the best thing that ever happened to him but he just couldn't stop himself.

There was only one solution. Mac was right; he couldn't go on like this. If they didn't want him, no one would, ever. They had been right after all, all of his teachers and foster parents and social workers and cops when they said Richie was a worthless punk who'd never amount to anything. Strangely Richie felt calmer now that he had made a decision.


	7. Chapter 7

Duncan stared at his bedroom ceiling

Duncan stared at his bedroom ceiling. Tessa was curled on her side away from him. The situation with Richie had affected their relationship as well, so that sex didn't seem to be anywhere in Duncan's future at the moment. Even though right then he could have really used a release for all of his tension.

He heard movement in the hallway and the soft grating feel of a pre-immortal. He had been expecting this, for Richie to run away in the night. A pre-emptive strike after the boy had decided that he and Tessa didn't love him anymore. It had taken much longer than Duncan would have thought; he had been surprised that the boy was constantly running into his room instead of out the apartment door.

Carefully the immortal extricated himself from the blankets and pulled on his robe. Not for the first time would Duncan surprise Richie in the middle of an escape attempt. Eventually the boy would learn that he and Tessa were never going to let Richie go. Even if they were oceans apart the boy would be in their hearts.

He crept towards the kitchen. Richie's form was visible even in the dark. The teen stood against the kitchen sink with his back to the doorway. Duncan noticed that Richie's old duffel bag was nowhere in sight as he turned on the light. The young man was visibly startled but did not turn around.

Confused by the reaction Duncan moved forward and grasped the youth's shoulder. Still the teen kept his face averted. Then Duncan looked down at the youth's hands.

Richie was holding a steak knife in his right hand, keeping it in the sink. A few shallow cuts on his left wrist told Duncan all he needed to know about what the teen had been caught doing. But still Richie made no attempt at an explanation, the boy who thought he could talk his way out of anything wasn't talking.

And Duncan himself could think of nothing to say. He was too scared to be angry or demand answers. The fear overrode his ability to think or even breathe. He just stared for a long moment.

And then he was moving, pulling the teen into his arms in a crushing embrace. How could he have not seen this? How could Richie not want to live anymore, not see his own worth? Duncan was overcome with the thought of how close he was to losing the boy. The fact that Richie was immortal didn't ease his mind at all. What kind of life would Richie wake up to if he entered the Game as a suicide?

Duncan didn't even notice the tears that streamed from his eyes. How could _he_ have not seen how much pain this boy was in?

He held Richie back at arm's length noting that the teen's eyes were dry and still looking anywhere but at Duncan's face.

There was only one question. "Why?"

Duncan was not surprised that his own voice came out as a sob, nor did he try to hide it. Richie needed to know how much his actions would have hurt Duncan. But Richie didn't say anything and his jaw took on a mulish jut that the immortal knew all too well.

The fact that Richie still refused to talk to him caused all of his helplessness to rise in his throat and choke him. Duncan pulled the boy close again and cried in earnest, words and accusations tumbling from his lips before he could stop them.

"I love you, Rich. How could you?! Why? Why didn't you tell me…"

That sparked a reaction in the teen. "You what?"

Duncan didn't have to ask what part of Duncan's diatribe he was referring to. The immortal looked straight into blues eyes that were wide and fearful and unwilling to believe however much Richie wanted to. "I love you."

"But you said if I didn't shape up…"

"That I would get you a counselor, Richie. I would never throw you out; I thought we talked about this."

"We did but that was before…"

"No Rich, no matter what." Duncan attempted a half-smile. "You'll have to take my head first."

His attempt at humour brought no answering smile to the boy's face. Instead Richie collapsed against Duncan, sobbing. Duncan maneuvered them to sit on the floor, keeping Richie pressed close, enfolding him with his arms and then his legs.

"Tell me." Duncan used the quietly insistent voice that Richie usually responded to.

"I couldn't stop her. I didn't want to…" Richie's words were punctuated with hiccupping gasps for air. "But I couldn't stop her! I couldn't stop myself."

Duncan rocked him slowly like he was a much younger child and whispered soothing words. "It's not your fault, Rich. It wasn't your fault."


	8. Chapter 8

Eventually they both stopped crying and Richie began to move restlessly as if he wanted Duncan to let him go

Eventually they both stopped crying and Richie began to move restlessly as if he wanted Duncan to let him go. Duncan did not oblige him. Instead he stood them both up, but kept an arm around the boy, pressing Rich close to his side. He led them to Richie's bedroom and sat the boy on the bed.

Richie sat there avoiding Duncan's eyes, making quiet sniffling noises and surreptitiously swiping at his eyes as if he was embarrassed by his breakdown. Gently, very gently so it wouldn't be misinterpreted, Duncan lifted the boy's chin to look into his eyes.

"Richie, it's going to be ok. Maybe not tomorrow or the next day, but it will be. And Tessa and I will be here for you, always, no matter what." Duncan straightened, rubbing his hand absently over Richie's back as he thought about where Tessa's sleeping pills were.

"Why don't you lay back and I'll…" Richie hopped up as if burned.

"What's the matter?"  
"I can't…" Richie took a breath as if gathering his courage. "I can't sleep there. In the bed, it reminds me…"

"Oh Richie," Duncan's words were a sigh as he pulled the boy into a hug again. "How bout the couch? Could you sleep on the couch?" Richie nodded against his chest and so he shepherded the boy there.

He sat Richie down before getting blankets, pillows and a glass of water to go with the sleeping pill that he found in the bathroom. And when Richie was tucked into his makeshift bed, Duncan just sat in the nearby chair and stared at him.

And worried, worried about what to do now. He had already made so many mistakes. But he refused to be sorry for taking the boy in, there was no point in it. Richie needed him now. All he could do was try to make it better, try to fix everything that had gone so terribly wrong.

He felt so terribly angry, not at Richie, at _her_. The _her_ who had hurt Richie, the woman he had barely spared a thought for until now. He had thought her simply a pawn of the immortal, just a victim of the immortal, forced to help kidnap Richie. Obviously he had been wrong. What he wouldn't give to get his hands on her now.

And how would he tell Tessa?! How was he going to tell her that he had almost let Richie kill himself? The only answer he had was to get on the phone immediately in the morning to one Sean Burns.


	9. Chapter 9

Author's Note: I know this has taken me a really long time to update and that you probably all hate me by now, but I swear that I have been trying. This is the story that keeps me up at night thinking. Psychological stories are really difficult for me to write (don't ask why now I have three psych stories up that have yet to be completed: Denial, Understanding, and Bogeyman). I want it all to be as realistic as possible. And I can't decide if I'm happy with this story, I put in everything that I wanted to, but perhaps it could have been written better. Anyway I don't know when the next update will be, but I am working on it and feel free to hassle me about it. Oh and please review!!

Duncan awoke in the now rather uncomfortable chair when he heard the rustling of cloth. Opening his eyes, he saw Tessa in her robe, standing in the doorway to the living room looking at them with concern. Richie still slept like the dead, a painful reminder of how much the youth probably needed sleep. Of his failure.

He walked over to her. He didn't want to disturb Richie with their voices but he wanted to be there when the boy woke up, to make sure that the boy knew that he had not been abandoned. He compromised on the doorway.

Placing a finger on his lips, the immortal indicated that they should be quiet. Tessa's face showed confusion but not worry…not yet.

"I don't want to wake him."

The Frenchwoman's voice held a tinge of exasperation when she asked, "What are you two doing out here?"

Duncan hesitated only for a moment before answering. "He's afraid to sleep in his bed, that _woman_…you were right, Tessa, he's not ok. He needs help. Richie…Richie tried to kill himself last night."

"What?!" Tessa's horror showed in her wide blue eyes.

Duncan immediately drew his lover close, wanting to comfort her at least when he felt so useless with Richie. He wanted to reassure her, tell her that everything would be ok, that Richie would be fine, that their little family would be fine.

But he couldn't. He was four hundred years old, had fought in wars, won innumerable immortal battles, but he had no idea what to do. Everything he had done so far had failed miserably, so he just held her tight.

Eventually they parted, Duncan suggesting Tessa make them all some breakfast before he turned back to the still figure on the couch. As he got closer though, he realized that the bright blue eyes were open. Richie was awake.

"Hey, how're you feeling?" Duncan asked softly as he squatted down in front of the couch.

The teen shrugged, not meeting Duncan's eyes as he levered himself up into a sitting position. Duncan looked at the boy; Richie was sitting back in a corner, his arms wrapped around his knees, clutching them to his chest. The teen looked so small, it broke Duncan's heart to see. Richie was strong, happy, resilient, he wasn't supposed to look so…broken.

"Richie, we're going to work it out, ok? Together. Now do you want to come have some breakfast or stay in here and watch some tv?"

Having finally been given a choice, Richie followed Duncan into the kitchen.

The three of then sat around the breakfast table in kitchen. Richie still only picked at the food Tessa cautiously placed in front of the teen.

This morning, however, Duncan didn't harass the boy to eat more, only directing two or three pleading looks at Richie. And Richie responded, taking a bite after every one of the immortal's glances. Duncan supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. Richie had always been sensitive, covering it with bravado and a cock-sure attitude, but the teen obviously looked up to Duncan, cared about what Duncan thought of him. Commands were likely to cause the teen, any teen for that matter, to rebel.

They ate in silence and when Duncan was done, he took his and Richie's plates to the sink. Richie stood intending to wash the dishes as he was normally expected to, but Duncan caught the teen's elbow, turning Richie back toward the doorway to the living room.

"Let's just relax today, ok Rich?" Duncan's tone was wary, the immortal still expecting the boy to rebel, to fight him the whole way. But Richie simply sank back down onto the couch, meekly accepting the remote that Duncan handed him.

"Tessa, why don't you sit with him for a while, I have to make a phone call." The immortal's eyes told her that it was not a suggestion and Tessa seemed to understand, sitting in the adjacent chair though her eyes were still questioning.

Duncan sat heavily into his desk chair, taking a deep breath and scrubbing his face with his hands before picking up the phone. It was seven am here so it would be two in the afternoon in France where Sean Burns was.

The phone rang once, twice, three times before a familiar cultured voice answered.

"Dr. Sean Burns," the cheerful voice said.

"Sean, its Duncan."

The other immortal caught onto the wrongness of his friend's voice seemingly immediately. When Sean spoke again, his voice was all quiet concern.

"Duncan, what's wrong?"

The story poured out then, words passing Duncan's lips seemingly without conscious choice. It just felt so good, telling it all to someone who would understand, explaining how he and his longtime lover had taken in a bedraggled, brash adolescent who charmed his way into their hearts, filling an old need in the Highlander, how Duncan hadn't known what to do, how to handle this catastrophe though he had tried, God knows how Duncan tried to keep his makeshift family together, and how he had failed.

Sean listened in silence, but Duncan could feel the other man's sympathy even before he began to speak, telling Duncan that it was going to be ok, that his mistakes were quite common…

"What should I do now?" Duncan implored.


	10. Chapter 10

_Author's Note: So it's almost over, sorry for the wait, though this chapter might have been posted earlier had I not had to evacuate from my home in New Orleans. I'm headed back tomorrow but I don't know about the electricity or internet so who knows when the last chapter will be posted. Anyway thanks to everyone who has kept reading and love to all those who reviewed!!_

Duncan walked out of the office and started Richie on the long road to recovery. The first thing Duncan had done after hanging up with Sean was to contact a doctor friend of his for recommendations on a psychologist.

He had been worried that Sean would insist on treating Richie himself, but fortunately, the other immortal had not thought that would be necessary. Duncan hadn't wanted to move the boy to France and Sean had said that Richie should be able to omit all immortal business without it interfering with the boy's treatment.

Duncan had gone ahead and made the boy an appointment. Then he only had to break it to the withdrawn teen.

Surprisingly that didn't turn out to be that difficult. Duncan sat on the couch next to Richie, trying not to react when the boy shrank away from him.

Sean had told Duncan to continue being physical with the boy despite Richie's reticence. The boy would take time to become comfortable again, time to re-learn how to trust.

The immortal told Richie that the boy had an appointment. Richie only nodded, worryingly acquiescent and if Duncan hadn't already seen how serious this situation was, that gesture would have told him. Richie knew that he needed help.

They spent the rest of the day like that: hanging out on the couch, watching tv…Richie actually smiled, talked, even laughed. The teen explained the shows to the two adults, kidded them about their lack of 'pop culture' knowledge. Duncan ordered pizza for dinner and Richie ate a little.

Duncan didn't chide the boy over his lack of appetite. It was a fine line that the immortal would struggle to walk in the coming weeks and months.

He tried to keep Richie on a schedule, work in the store, help out around the apartment, eat…while at the same time making it clear that the boy had the right to not be normal: to take a break, escape to his room for a minute, not eat, hell even scream and cry.

Those days were the worst, days when Richie would pick a fight over any little thing. It was difficult for Duncan, and Tessa to control their tempers even knowing the reason for the teen's uncharacteristic mood swings.

Sometimes in the middle of a screaming fit, Richie would just start crying. When that happened, the boy would turn away, try to hide. It broke Duncan's heart and he always rushed to hug Richie, the immortal's own anger and frustration forgotten.

But things did get better. After two months, Richie started sleeping in his bed again. He spent less time in his room. He talked more, worked more, ate more, became more like the Richie they had first known.

Except when it came to girls. Richie couldn't seem to get back into his flirtatious nature even after months. Every time a girl would look his way, Richie would back off and deflect the attention.

Duncan called Sean for advice. The Scotsman had been calling the other immortal frequency, keeping the psychologist updated on their situation. Now as always Sean told Duncan to be "patient".

Sean said, "Duncan, things will never be the same for him or for you. Richie will never even look at a bed the same way again, much less a woman."

The Highlander rebelled against the idea that the boy would not fully recover from this, but Sean persisted saying, "I didn't say Richie wouldn't recover, I said things wouldn't be the _same_."

Sean's final piece of advice was that Duncan should just ask the boy. So that's what Duncan did.

The immortal found the boy in his room, listening to music…or whatever passed for music these days to teenage boys. Duncan turned it off on his way over to the bed, Richie sitting up to make room for the older man.

He thought he'd get right to the point. "So that blonde in the store earlier, she seemed to really like you."

Richie just shrugged his shoulders in response, conspicuously not looking at Duncan.

"You didn't think she was cute? I thought she was a real looker."

"I guess so," Richie's voice was tellingly dispassionate.

"Rich…"

Bright blue eyes looked up at him for the first time since Duncan started talking. "I just…I don't want…the memories," the boy finished on a murmur.

"Well don't you think you ought to get to know her first?" Duncan's attempt at a joke fell rather flat. "We talked about how to stay present, focus on the now so the memories don't overwhelm you…"

Richie huffed. "I don't want to start something and freak out later. Then I'd have to explain it to her…"

"That's why? You're afraid to tell other people…?"

Duncan understood that Richie would be embarrassed, particularly with people's prejudices and misconceptions about a male's ability to be raped. But the boy's discomfited movements said that that wasn't the whole story though.

"It's just…" Duncan recognized the too-familiar choking noise of Richie trying to hold back tears. He moved, sliding on the bed closer to the boy and drawing Richie into his arms.

As usual, Richie was stiff at first, unused to comfort from his childhood and wary of physical affection since his ordeal. But as usual, Duncan held on tight, until the boy broke down, sobbing into his chest and clutching the front of his linen shirt.

Duncan comforted the boy as best he could; rubbing Richie's back and waiting for him to catch his breath to speak.

"What is it?" The immortal solicited softly.

"It's just…I have these dreams, they scare me. I dream about _her_, about hurting her like she hurt me. I'm afraid that I would hurt some girl…"

"Oh Rich…" Duncan hugged the teen a bit tighter, kissing the top of the reddish curls. "It's completely normal to be angry, but you would never, could _never _hurt someone like that. _You_ are not like that."

At his words, the boy only cried harder.


	11. Chapter 11

After that things made a definitive turn for the better. It was as if Duncan's words, Duncan's belief in Richie, bolstered Richie's belief in himself.

And Duncan would have been lying if he's said that that didn't make the immortal feel good. Actually if he told the truth, Duncan would have had to admit that there were some definite positive things that had come out of this ordeal. Not that he would ever admit that, even to Tessa.

Richie had been spending much more time with Duncan and Tessa and the immortal was definitely enjoying it. Both adults had decided to put Richie's welfare first. Duncan had laid low, turning away even friends to stay out of the Game. Tessa had rejected a job at the Sorbonne, not wanting to move Richie away from his therapist and home.

Duncan spent a lot of his time playing basketball with the teen and telling Richie stories of his past. He even began teaching Richie self-defense, thinking that it might help re-affirm the boy's self-confidence.

They watched tv and went to movies and the cabin and Duncan felt like they really were a 'family'. It was like the immortal could barely remember what it had been like before.

And Richie was making the first tentative steps toward the opposite sex. Frankly it made Duncan glad to see that the young man was taking things slowly. There would be no one-night stands or falling over anything with breasts now, and the immortal was certain it was really for the best.

All young men are sex-crazed he supposed, but he had often thought that Richie's actions were more than that. Duncan often thought that the boy was searching for the comfort that he had been denied as a child.

Of course, Duncan hoped that it was more than just fear that was preventing the boy from searching for that comfort now. He wanted to believe that Richie was now getting that comfort from him and Tessa, that the boy no longer had to seek out sexual partners when what he really was looking for was love.

Everything was going so well that Duncan found himself wanting to make it official. He wanted this to officially be his family. He began thinking about asking Tessa to marry him, about legally adopting Richie, having the two most important people in his life share the MacLeod name.

That was what was going on in his mind as he and Tessa sat in the bar that night and even the warnings of the psychic girl that Richie brought by their table couldn't dim his spirits. So he asked Tessa to marry him.

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Duncan stared down at the broken body of his lover, his _fiancé_. She was dead, shot in the street, while he was inside trying to play hero, wanting more information about the people that had kidnapped her.

Unsteadily, Duncan laid her down on the cement and then literally crawling over to the other body. When Richie breathed his first breath as an immortal, Duncan needed to be there. He no longer cared that they were both immortals and the Gathering was going on. Richie was his family, the only one left and Duncan was going to hold onto him with everything he had.

They were going to have to leave, take Tessa's _body_…he choked just thinking about burying his beloved but he knew that she would want to be interred in France. Then he and Richie would disappear for a while. Duncan would teach the boy everything he knew, make sure that the young man was ready for life as an immortal, that Richie would be able to survive because Duncan needed him to survive.

Duncan promised himself one more thing as he was kneeling in the darkness, in the street waiting for the now-eternal teenage to breathe once again. Duncan promised himself that Richie would be a MacLeod.

_So that was the final chapter. Sorry that it took so long to write a chapter that not much happened in, but Yea, it's done. I hope everyone enjoyed it and if you did please review. I loved the idea of this story and I am very proud to finally finish it. _


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Highlander, Angst, Drama