Highlander 1. CHAPTER ONE

YES, MASTER  
  
WARNINGS AND DISCLAIMERS!  
  
Hey guys, here I go. A new story that's a little darker and what not than the rest. No comic relief here.  
  
THIS STORY CONTAINS:  
  
Sensitive topics  
  
Nudity (not descriptive, but it's in there)  
  
Adult Language  
  
Adult Situations  
  
Suggestive Themes  
  
LIGHT Bondage and Domination  
  
There are NO sex scenes but there are suggestions.  
  
IF YOU THINK YOU MAY BE OFFENDED BY ANY OF THESE THINGS PLEASE DO NOT READ ANY FURTHER!  
  
This story is PG-13 now and will eventually venture to R after the second chapter for situations, suggestions, and themes.  
  
All that said. I am really excited about this idea and hope that you do read it.  
  
PART ONE  
  
"More, always more," Richie grumbled as Duncan set another stack of fragile China plates in front of him.  
  
"Have fun."  
  
Tessa had decided it was time for some summer-time spring cleaning. Richie had been woken up early, fed, and sat down with a damp cloth and delicate plates, bowls, cups and saucers that couldn't go in the dishwasher.  
  
"This is all that's left of the China," Tessa told him putting a small stack of bread plates in front of him.  
  
"Thank God."  
  
"Next, you can do the silver."  
  
"Oh, goody!"  
  
Three hours later, Richie's hands were cramping and he smelled of silver polish. He finished the last fork and leaned back in his chair with a contented sigh.  
  
"Taking a break?" Tessa asked coming into the kitchen.  
  
"I'm done."  
  
"Then you can help me and Duncan in the store."  
  
"More?"  
  
"Everything is being cleaned. So you can help in the store or start up here."  
  
"Those are my only choices?" Richie asked.  
  
"Only choices."  
  
Richie thought for a minute. "Up here, I guess. Less to break that way."  
  
Tessa smiled. "Then you can start in the kitchen. I want you to empty the cabinets and clean them, then put everything back neatly."  
  
Richie nodded. "Check."  
  
"Clean up the refrigerator."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Take out all the old food and throw it away, clean up any spills, that type of thing."  
  
"Oh, cool."  
  
"Sweep and mop."  
  
"Kay, consider it done."  
  
Richie set to work. Half way through the cabinets, Duncan told him it was time for a lunch break. They went out for burgers then went back home and got back to work. By the time Richie started on the refrigerator, he was ready to quit. He had already cleaned out all the food; a little break wouldn't hurt. Duncan found him an hour later leaning against the refrigerator, asleep.  
  
Because he had been flirting with Tessa all day in the store, Duncan was in a very playful mood. He took the spray nozzle from the sink, aimed, and fired.  
  
"AGH!" Richie jerked awake. "What the hell, man?"  
  
"Morning, sunshine!" Duncan greeted him, pinching his cheeks.  
  
"Mac!" Richie pulled away. "What's the matter with you?"  
  
"I'm not the one asleep on the job."  
  
"I was taking a break."  
  
"For how long?"  
  
"Not very," he lied.  
  
"Break's over, get back to work."  
  
Richie stretched. "Yes, Master."  
  
"Get moving, slave." Duncan smiled at him and handed him a towel. "Start with all this water, boy."  
  
"Yes, Master. Right away, Master." Richie made a big show of bowing before he cleaned up the water.  
  
"Then you can put all this food back before it goes bad," Duncan said indicating the countertops covered in food. "If it already hasn't."  
  
"What time is it?" Richie asked as he got up.  
  
"Six thirty. Break for dinner in an hour?"  
  
"Break for date now," Richie said leaving.  
  
"Finish putting all this away," Duncan told him.  
  
"Mac, I gotta go, I'm gonna be late! Can't you do it?"  
  
"It will take you five minutes."  
  
"But she won't wait and she'll tell everyone I stood her up! Then everyone's gonna think I'm the biggest dork in the world because I stood up Lori Gorton!"  
  
"Who's Lori Gorton?" Duncan asked.  
  
"Only the hottest girl in town! Brad Pitt would be lucky to get a date with her!"  
  
"Then hurry," Duncan told him.  
  
"I gotta change!" he insisted his stubbornness showing its true colors.  
  
"Then finish and change!"  
  
Richie groaned loudly and started shoving warm milk and cheese into the refrigerator cramming it in where ever it would fit. "Done?" he asked impatiently once he had finished.  
  
"Done, go change."  
  
Richie ran into his room threw off his shirt put on a clean one and added some deodorant as an afterthought. He checked his wallet for money and ran into the living room.  
  
"Bye!" he called as he left.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Lori! Hey Lori!" Richie called running up to the movie theater.  
  
The girl turned around. "I was beginning to think you weren't gonna show," she said.  
  
"I got stuck at work; my boss wouldn't let me go. I got here as fast as I could."  
  
He bought the tickets, popcorn, and sodas just in time for them to catch the opening credits. They sat through the movie, Lori's hand in Richie's, until the lights came up at the end of the show. After the movie, they went to dinner at Lori's favorite Chinese restaurant, Yen King's. After that they went to the park and lost track of time. Richie finally made it home around two in the morning. He took Lori home, and then made his way back to the store. He was stopped by two men as he rounded the corner of the alley.  
  
"Hey, boy," one said with a smile of his face. "We were hoping you could help us with something."  
  
Richie backed up as they approached him. "I just spent all my money on a date," he said putting his hands up. "I don't have anything for you."  
  
"Yes, you do," the second man said.  
  
"Fine, take it." Richie tossed him his wallet.  
  
"That's not what we're looking for." The man let it fall to the ground.  
  
"Then what?" Richie asked trying to sound tough.  
  
"You," the first said simply.  
  
"Me? What'd I do?"  
  
"Nothing yet, but you will."  
  
"I'm not doing anything for anyone, got it?" Richie said.  
  
"Oh, yes, you will." The two men started toward him. "You will do just as we say."  
  
"The hell I will!"  
  
"Shut up, boy!" the second said as they backed Richie against a wall.  
  
Richie pressed himself as hard against the wall as he could. He'd let them think they had him cornered. He looked up at them trying to read their faces. They were starting to relax as they both reached for him. Just before their hands touched him the shoved himself off the wall and pushed between them. He ran for the door to Tessa's workshop. There was a doorbell there.  
  
"Get back here!" one of the men grabbed the back of his jacket. Richie fought his grip and continued toward the door.  
  
"Let go of me!" Richie yelled as loud as he could, trying to make enough noise to wake Duncan and Tessa.  
  
"Boy, don't make this a production."  
  
"MAC! MAC!!!! HELP!" Richie screamed still fighting to get to the door bell and finally hitting it with his outstretched fingers. "MMMMMMMMAAAAAAAAACC!!!!"  
  
Finally one of the upstairs lights turned on. Richie looked up and the man took advantage of his distraction to grab him and wrap both arms around him.  
  
"MAAACC!" Richie screamed again as the man dragged him back around the corner just as the workshop light turned on.  
  
"Richie!!" Duncan called, opening the door.  
  
The men had Richie around the corner and shoved a gag in his mouth to muffle his scream for help. They took him to a waiting car. Mac turned the corner just in time to see them throw Richie in the back seat and get in themselves. He could see Richie wrestling with one of them in the back seat as he chased after the car trying to memorize it. It was a white sedan with no license plate.  
  
Duncan ran back inside and got his keys.  
  
"What's going on?" Tessa asked.  
  
"Richie's been kidnapped," he explained heading out again.  
  
"An immortal?"  
  
Duncan paused. "No. I have to find him. You stay here in case they call for a ransom."  
  
Tessa barely had time to nod before he was out the door. 


	2. CHAPTER TWO

Richie woke up gagged and blindfolded. A few attempts at moving and he found that he was bound at his wrists and ankles. To top it all off, he was seatbelted into a seat.  
  
"Look who's awake," someone sneered from beside him. "Struggle all you want, even if by some miracle you got yourself free, you're tens of thousands of feet in the air." Richie stopped struggling. "That's right you're in an airplane. You're stuck. Now sit still!" The man beside Richie slapped him across the face.  
  
So went Richie's trip to his unknown destination. Every time he moved or made a sound he was slapped, kicked, or hurt in some way. Even a slight shift in his weight earned him a solid punch in the jaw. Finally he felt the plane start to land. Surely they couldn't just parade him through an airport like this. They had to let him go. He could find a way to attract some attention.  
  
Someone unhooked his seatbelt and his ankle bonds were removed. One person pulled Richie to his feet and held him in place while another secured something around his neck. The person that was holding him let go and Richie felt a tug at the collar. He helplessly and blindly followed as someone led him off the plane with what Richie could only guess was a leash. He nearly fell down the stairs onto the runway because no one had warned him that the stairs were coming up.  
  
He was led across the private runway to a waiting car. He was shoved in the backseat and left on his own. He began to struggle only to find that he was secured in place by the leash. He could hear voices arguing outside the car but couldn't make out many words. A few minutes later a front door opened and the engine started. The two men that had kidnapped him got in the back seat as well. By the position of their voices, Richie guessed he was in some kind of limo.  
  
'Figures,' he thought. 'My first time in a limo and I can't see a damn thing to enjoy it.'  
  
They drove for a while and Richie quickly learned that he was to behave as he had on the plane. No moving, no noise making. The car stopped and the two men got out once again leaving Richie behind.  
  
"Get him ready," one man said to someone new.  
  
Richie waited, not moving waiting to see what was going to happen next. He jumped when a gentle hand patted his head. A few seconds later, there was a slight tug on his leash. Richie struggled out of the car and was lead up some stairs.  
  
He was lead down a hall. Periodically, he was positioned against the wall and forced to bow his head. He knew he could move again when there was a gentle pat on his head. It was like it was some sort of reward for behaving properly. He heard a door open and then close behind him.  
  
His jacket had been removed before he had woken up on the plane and now he could feel his jeans and shirt being cut away.  
  
"MMMPH!" he screamed into the gag and began to struggle. It was humiliating enough to be lead around by a leash, but if they thought he would tag along quietly completely naked they had another think coming. The second Richie yelled, he was hit so hard he lost his balance and fell awkwardly to the floor. The rest of his clothes were removed and he was helped to his feet.  
  
The ropes around his writs were removed as someone kept a firm grip on his shoulders. After a few seconds, he felt cold steel closing around his wrists. There was now a short chain linking his wrists together behind his back. Again someone petted Richie's head. His ankles were placed in shackles as well. There was another pet on the head.  
  
He was led out of the room back out into the hall. Every few feet someone put their hand to his chest to put him against the wall and his head was bowed. Then he was rewarded and led further down the hall. Once again a door opened in front of him and he was taken into a room. His blindfold was taken off and before his eyes could adjust to the light, whoever had been leading him around had left the room.  
  
For the first time, Richie could look at his surroundings. He was in a large office with books filling the bookcases that covered the walls. His leash was attached to a waist high pole in front of a large oak desk. He was completely naked, but he could tell that without looking.  
  
He was left alone for over ten minutes. No matter how he struggled or pulled he couldn't loosen the shackles. Finally, the door behind him opened and a short Egyptian woman walked in.  
  
"Boy has behaved himself?" she asked sweetly with a smile. Richie just watched as she approached him. Surely she wasn't the one in charge of all this? "The children told Mamma that boy was very well behaved while they prepared him to meet Master." She gave him a loving pat on the head. "Master will be pleased to hear this."  
  
She busied herself fixing Richie's hair and wiping smudges off his face until a hidden door opened behind the big desk. A boy and a girl both stripped and shackled as Richie was, entered and took their places on either side of Richie. Richie quickly noted that they were not gagged. Mamma then fussed over them and gave them each a pat on the head for which they both looked grateful. Then a middle-aged man in an expensive business suit entered through the same hidden door, followed by two men that Richie recognized as his kidnappers. Both the boy and girl dropped to the floor. They crouched on the ground with their heads as close to the ground as they could get them.  
  
"Good afternoon, children," the man greeted.  
  
"Good afternoon, Master," the children answered.  
  
"So this is the boy you brought me," Master said approaching Richie. "He is well built." He walked around Richie looking him up and down and rubbing Richie's flesh with his hand as if inspecting a horse. "How much are you asking for him?" He took Richie by the jaw and turned his head left, then right.  
  
"Fifty," one of the kidnappers said.  
  
"Fifty?" Master asked. "What's wrong with him?"  
  
"He's a fighter," the second kidnapper answered.  
  
As if to prove the man's point, Richie jerked his face out of Master's hands and started pulling at his leash. The meaning of what was happening to him was starting to become clear. He was getting sold.  
  
"I see. What makes you think I want him in the first place then? I can't spend all my time training a new boy."  
  
"All you have to do is show him who's boss," the first kidnapper said. He walked around the desk and stopped in front of Richie. "Boy, stand still!" he ordered backing handing Richie. Richie straightened up glared at the man and yelled muffled obscenities at him.  
  
Master laughed. "Yes, you seem to have taught him well. I'll give you ten for him."  
  
"Forty," the first kidnapper bartered.  
  
"Twenty, I like a challenge."  
  
"Thirty five and you get to keep whatever you get for him once he's trained."  
  
"Thirty and I don't sell him."  
  
"Thirty and we get to use him whenever we want," the second kidnapper added.  
  
"As long as he stays on my grounds."  
  
"You have yourself a deal."  
  
"I will give you your money now," Master agreed going to open a hidden safe in the wall. "Thirty thousand. Mamma, please draw a contract."  
  
The women that had been standing behind Richie stepped around him and went to the desk. She wrote out a contract. "Boy is sold for thirty thousand dollars with no resale. He is to remain on Master's grounds and may be of service to sellers at sellers will," she said once she finished.  
  
As the men signed the contract Richie fought harder. He knew it was useless, but he didn't like the idea of being sold and used. It flat out frightened him. This wasn't a normal kidnapping to get Duncan's attention; this was permanent. As the three men signed the paper, Richie's life was slipping out of his control. The less control he felt he had, the more he fought.  
  
"Calm him," Master ordered the boy on the floor next to Richie.  
  
The boy sprang to his feet and grabbed Richie's wrist shackles. He pulled down hard on Richie's arms; at the same time, he pulled Richie's hair forcing him to his knees. Richie moaned in pain.  
  
"Silence him," Master ordered the girl who promptly slapped Richie as hard as she could.  
  
"Contract is signed," Mamma said. "Men may leave and toast good sale. Leave boy with Mamma."  
  
"You take care of him, Mamma," Master said giving her a smile.  
  
As soon as the men left, the boy let go of Riche. Mamma walked over to him and helped him to his feet.  
  
"Mamma knows boy is scared," she said gently. "But he must not be. For as long as boy serves Master, Mamma will take care of boy. Come." She unhooked his leash and led him out of the room.  
  
He was led down an elegantly decorated hall. Mamma was speaking softly to the boy and girl as Richie trailed along behind pulling on his leash. A nicely dressed couple came down the hall towards them. The boy put Richie against the wall and the girl forced him to bow his head and the two adopted the same position. The couple stopped and talked with Mamma.  
  
"You have a new boy?" the woman asked.  
  
"Very new," Mamma answered. "Master just bought him. He is being taken to be trained."  
  
"When will he be serving?" the man asked, touching Richie's cheek. Richie jumped away and swore again.  
  
"Not for a while," Mamma said. "Perhaps by this time next year, boy will be ready to serve."  
  
"Obviously, this one will give you some trouble," the man said slapping Richie lightly in the face. Richie started toward the man, ready to attack anyway he could.  
  
"No!" Mamma scolded him yanking on the leash as if he were a dog. "Boy must show respect! Please accept Mamma's apology," she said to the couple. "Boy is very new, just came in this morning."  
  
"The harder they are to train, the more rewarding it is in the end," the woman said. "When we were in the training business, it took us nearly two years to break this one child. She's the best server we've ever had. We refuse to sell her."  
  
"Boy will be a good server when he is ready," Mamma agreed. "He is scared now."  
  
The woman smiled and gently held Richie's chin in her hand. "You be a good boy, now," she told him as if he was eight going to play at a friend's house instead of eighteen and enslaved.  
  
When the couple left, the boy and girl again fell in stride with Mamma and Richie was pulled along behind them. Sometimes he would catch a glimpse of what was happening in rooms as they passed. They passed a room with a boy chained to the wall watching a girl serve the adults in the room drinks. There was a room where a boy was busily scrubbing at the hardwood floor. It smelled like he was stripping and restaining it.  
  
Richie was led out of the house and across the backyard where there were slaves tending to the garden. They all looked up curiously as Richie was dragged by. Mamma and the boy and girl stopped at what looked like a tool shed. While they were stopped, Richie turned to see where he had been taken. The house was long, tall, and white. It reminded him of the white people's homes in Civil War movies. There were naked children all around, busy at one task or another. Most were shackled with their hands in front of them while a few had had their chains taken off, but the cuffs remained around their wrists and ankles. They all had collars and leashes.  
  
There was a tug at Richie's leash telling him it was time to move on again. He stumbled into the shed behind Mamma and the boy and girl. Inside was all clean white tile from ceiling to floor. There was another waist high post in the center of the room to which Richie's leash was attached.  
  
"It will all be over soon," Mamma told him putting a hand on his cheek. "Boy must not be scared because Master and Mamma will take care of him."  
  
The boy that had accompanied them went over to a single cabinet in one corner and took out a gun. With shaking hands he approached Richie. At first he struggled. He pulled and yanked on his collar until his neck hurt. The boy cocked the gun and Richie stood in front of him in stunned silence. They had just spent thirty thousand dollars on him and now they were going to kill him. Maybe he had already caused too much trouble. The boy pulled the trigger. Richie's last thought before the bullet hit him was 'At least I'm not a slave.'  
  
. . . . . .  
  
There was no pain. There was blood all over his chest but there was no pain. Richie struggled into a sitting position. He was in a small dark room still shackled and gagged. His leash was hanging limply from his collar. He scooted into the corner furthest from the room door and sat.  
  
'Mac's going to come get me,' he thought. 'He won't let me stay here. This is all a set up,' he continued to rationalize despite his previous revelation. 'All I gotta do is stay out of the way and keep quite and then Mac will come and take me home. There's nothing to worry about.'  
  
And nothing was exactly what Richie got. He had no real sense of time in his little room but he knew it had been days of silent solitude before the door opened for the first time. A strange sensation hit Richie as he heard the lock being opened. A boy Richie hadn't seen before came in and approached him.  
  
"Master is coming," the boy said. He forced Richie into the same submissive pose he had seen before, crouched on the floor with his head bowed. Again the sensation hit him just before a man walked into the room and Richie looked up to see who it was. The man who had bought him kicked him in the nose.  
  
"You must learn your place," he told him. "I am your master and you must show me respect. We will try again tomorrow." He walked out of the room.  
  
The boy that had come in to teach Richie what to do stood and looked down at him. "I must teach you to obey," he said. Then he beat Richie until he passed out.  
  
The next day the cycle was repeated. Richie would get the strange feeling then the boy came in, and crouched Richie on the floor; Richie resisted and was beaten until he passed out. Every third day he was beaten until complacent and fed what had to have been table scraps. After what Richie had counted as two weeks, Master and the boy had a new idea.  
  
Richie's wrist and ankle shackles were attached to his collar so he had no choice but to remain crouched on the floor no matter what happened around him. Everyday Master would come in and talk to him.  
  
"You must behave. And when you are the good boy you should be, I will allow you a bed and company. Would you like that?" He untied Richie's gag.  
  
"Fuck off," Richie spat.  
  
"Foolish child," Master said fondly shaking his head and retying the gag. "You will soon learn."  
  
The boy came in and Richie knew what was coming. In a few minutes, it would all be over and he could dream of what he had once had.  
  
AN: Just a reminder that the next chapter puts this story over in the rated 'R' section. It's not because of anything graphic, but because of themes and insinuations. Please start looking for it there! ~SC 


	3. CHAPTER THREE

"Mr. MacLeod, we are doing everything we can to find that boy," the officer said patiently.  
  
"It's been three months and you haven't gotten a single lead!"  
  
"We have an APB out on the car and the suspects. I'm afraid we can't find them."  
  
"Then look harder," Duncan growled leaning across the officer's desk. How dare this man be so calm? Richie was missing!  
  
"Mr. MacLeod, we are looking, but there are cases we have to give our man power up to."  
  
"More important ones?"  
  
"Not more important, just." He stopped and started again. "Mr. MacLeod, there is every possibility that we may never find this boy."  
  
"His name is Richie, Richie Ryan!"  
  
"In most cases, if a child has been missing this long, they are never found. And if they are. it's not pretty."  
  
"Richie is alive," he insisted.  
  
"There's always the possibility, Mr. MacLeod."  
  
"Richie is alive."  
  
"Then maybe he just doesn't want to be found."  
  
"He was kidnapped! I saw it with my own two eyes! He didn't want to leave! He wants to be found!"  
  
"And we are doing everything we can to find him."  
  
"Then why is he still missing?"  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie had no idea how long it had been. He had lost count weeks ago. But he still resisted. He refused to address his captor as 'Master' and was as difficult as he had the energy to be. He had figured out something a little unnerving during one of his long nights alone. As he remained crouched on the floor, chained into position, he had a lot of time to think. He replayed what had happened over and over in his head. He had been kidnapped, murdered, and locked in a small, cold room. But what stood out in his mind was that he had been murdered. He didn't know why but it took him a while to realize what had happened. He was immortal and the strange feeling he got when the slaves and Master were around him was the same feeling that Duncan got when other immortals were around. A deeper fear settled in his chest as he realized that not only did Duncan have no idea where he was, but he was going to be here forever. And by forever he meant forever. It was entirely possible that he would be kept in his little room for decades, centuries, or even millennia. It all depended on when Master decided to kill him. The sooner he gave in, the less likely he would die.  
  
'No,' Richie told himself firmly. 'You are not giving in. Mac would never give in. He would fight this 'til the day he died. And that's what you're going to do. You've fantasized about this and now you have it. You're immortal and nothing they can do will hurt you. You'll heal. You'll be fine. And you will NOT give in.'  
  
. . . . . .  
  
It had been a year since Richie had disappeared. Duncan had searched every place he could think of. He told every immortal he ran into what Richie looked like and if they found him, to send him home. Conner, Fitz, Amanda, Darius and a slew of other immortal friends were on the lookout for the boy. Duncan depended on them to search in their travels while he stayed home with Tessa and tried to comfort her. More than once, they had been told to give up. They were told that if Richie hadn't come home by now, he was dead. They had to move on. Duncan and Tessa insisted that until they had solid proof that Richie was dead, they would believe he was alive and look for him.  
  
Every morning, Duncan got up and checked the status of the missing person's report they had filed and checked for any leads on the missing person's websites they had posted Richie's pictures on. There was never anything. It was as if Richie had been taken to another planet. All they ever got was quick notes from well wishers promising to keep an eye out for him.  
  
Tessa's art turned dark. Every sculpture was large, looming, and almost scary to look at. It sold surprisingly well.  
  
While their day to day life seemed perfectly normal, both had an aching in their hearts over the lost boy. They still went out on dinner dates, went to parties and enjoyed themselves. But every time they went to bed, they had to pass the empty bedroom. The door was always kept open and nothing was changed. It was exactly as Richie had left it. There were clothes all over the floor, the bed was unmade, and a few drawers were hanging open.  
  
"He'll come home," Tessa whispered looking into the room every night. "He has to."  
  
Duncan had told her about Richie's immortality and they knew there was every possibility that Richie had been on his way home when he was stopped by another immortal who wanted an easy quickening. But they still kept up hope.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie couldn't stop shivering. He couldn't remember ever being so cold. He had been shivering for so long, he didn't even notice anymore. He was still in his little room, but he was no longer chained in the submissive position he had been kept in for months, his leash was simply hooked to a ring imbedded in the wall. They had left him alone for a long time and he was starting to get worried. What if they had left him chained to a wall never to return? His hands were shackled in front of him and he was still gagged. He didn't dare reach up and untie the cloth for fear of being caught disobeying. The second he did something wrong was the second someone would come to check on him. He knew what happened when he did something he wasn't supposed to.  
  
'Avoiding a beating isn't giving in,' he had been telling himself for a long time. 'It's playing it smart.'  
  
A buzz interrupted his thoughts and the door to his room opened. Master walked in followed closely by Mamma. Richie remained up against the wall hugging his knees and just looked at them.  
  
"I have a proposition for you, boy," Master said in a kind voice. He made Richie feel like a child being talked into something. "If you willingly show me proper respect, I will give you a big treat."  
  
Mamma walked over to where Richie was huddled, knelt next to him, and untied his gag. "If boy behaves, Mamma will wash him, give him a big meal, and he may stay in a bed," she told him encouragingly.  
  
"Just do as you should, boy," Master added. "You are punished for bad behavior, but you will be rewarded for good behavior. Give me a reason to reward you."  
  
Richie just looked up at him. 'He's being too nice,' he thought.  
  
"Let Mamma feed boy," the woman beside him encouraged. "Boy is getting too skinny. Boy is dehydrated; Mamma has water for him. Be a good boy."  
  
"Yes, be a good boy, let me reward you."  
  
Richie's resolve was fading. He was so hungry and thirsty; he was freezing; he could smell himself. His bottom lip started to shake.  
  
"Be a good boy." They repeated over and over. Finally he couldn't take it anymore. He slowly unfolded his stiff limbs and crouched on the floor with his forehead to the ground.  
  
"That's a good boy," Master told him petting his head. "Now you may be rewarded."  
  
"What does boy say?" Mamma said gently as she rubbed Richie's back comfortingly.  
  
"Thank you.M-m-. Master." There he said it. He gave in. He mentally kicked himself as Mamma praised his response. He had given in. He had cracked. He had given up. Duncan would have never given in. Richie might have pleased his captors, but he knew he had become a disappointment to Duncan. He stayed on the floor and let all the tears he had been fighting escape.  
  
Master left. Richie sobbed, unable to control the despair, anger, humiliation, and loneliness that had been plaguing him for so long. Mamma stayed beside him, eventually sitting him up and holding him tightly, letting him cry into her blouse.  
  
"Shh, boy is nearly grown; he mustn't cry. He has started a new life. He must be happy. No crying," she whispered as she began to rock him. "Be a big boy."  
  
"I don't wanna be a big boy!" Richie sobbed. "I wanna be a baby and go home!"  
  
"Boy is home."  
  
"No!"  
  
"Boy was very good for Master today. Mamma is proud."  
  
"Proud?" Richie repeated, looking up at her, tears raining down his cheeks. "How can you be proud of that? I gave in! I'm a wimp!"  
  
"No, boy is strong," Mamma told him with a motherly smile. "Mamma cannot remember a boy taking so long to obey."  
  
"Can I take it back?" Richie asked. He knew it didn't make much sense, but he felt so guilty for having given up.  
  
Mamma smiled at him. "Boy is special. There is something different about him."  
  
Richie had never really stopped crying, but the words made him cry harder again. Tessa had told him that once. Not in such a serious manner; she had been joking when Angie had shown her a picture of Richie when he had cross-dressed one year for Halloween, but she had called him special.  
  
"Boy must be good. He needs Master's protection from bad people."  
  
"You mean other immortals?" Richie asked shifting his weight to look up at her, but not so much so she would have to let go. She was a practical stranger, but she was the nicest person he had run into.  
  
"What does boy know?"  
  
Richie sniffed and the tears picked up again. "Mac was immortal. I know all about it. The Gathering and the Quicken."  
  
"Shh!" Mamma clamped a hand over his mouth. "Boy must never speak of what he knows. It is forbidden for the children to know such things. Master will be angry and punish boy." Richie looked up at her though his still watery eyes. "It must be boy's special secret. No one can know. Does boy understand Mamma?"  
  
Richie nodded and she moved her hand and went back to rocking him. Richie hiccupped and continued crying. The tears had slowed down, but still came in a continuous flow. They sat there until Richie had run out of tears.  
  
"Time for boy to be fed," Mamma announced. She let go of Richie and stood up, unhooked his leash, then helped him to his feet. She bent down and picked up the gag that had been in Richie's mouth since he had arrived. "If boy promises to behave, Mamma will not use this."  
  
Richie looked at the gag. "I promise," he whispered.  
  
"Good now, come with Mamma." She gave a gentle tug on the leash and began to walk out of the room, on shaky legs, Richie followed.  
  
They went up a flight of stairs and into one of the oak paneled hallways. Richie looked around as he was led down one hall after another. He heard voices in front of him and looked to see who it was. Mamma stopped walking and gestured Richie to the wall. He knew the drill. He bowed his head and stayed still.  
  
"Is he serving, yet?" a woman's voice asked. Richie faintly recognized it.  
  
"No, boy is going to be fed. He obeyed for the first time today. He is being rewarded," Mamma answered.  
  
"It's been over a year," a man said in surprise. Richie placed the voices. They were the couple that had asked about him the last time he had been out in the halls when he had just been purchased.  
  
"Boy is stubborn," Mamma said with a smile in her voice. "But he has promised Mamma he will be good, hasn't he?"  
  
It took Richie a second to realize he was supposed to respond. "Yes, ma'am," he finally whispered.  
  
"Oh, he sounds so cute!" the woman squealed. She took his chin in her hands and lifted his head. "And those eyes, that bone structure, he will fetch a handsome price. Please call when your Master decides to auction him."  
  
"Boy will not be for sale," Mamma said. "It is in his purchase contract."  
  
"Then call when he is trained," the man said.  
  
"Or in training," the woman amended looking at Richie's. manliness. "I will be more than happy to be his first guest."  
  
"Mamma will tell Master."  
  
"Good." She smiled at Richie and gave him a wink.  
  
"Mamma must feed boy now," Mamma interrupted. "He has been well behaved and deserves a special treat."  
  
"Yes, he does."  
  
The woman's tone irritated Richie beyond all belief. He wanted nothing more than to jump on top of her and strangle her to death with his stupid leash. but on the other hand it was nice to be out of his little room and the promise of food was more than enough to keep him quiet and still. He didn't move until the couple had left and there was a gentle tug on his leash.  
  
"Mamma meant what she said. Boy was very good and deserves something special." She gave him a smile, stroked his grimy, bloody cheek and led him further into the manor.  
  
She opened a large oak door and took him into the kitchen. There were servants running around, cutting this, stirring that, and fetching things for others. For the first time in a long time, Richie remembered he was naked just as the other children were. Only they were clean, he was filthy. His skin was red and black, caked with dried blood, soil, and dust. His oily hair hung in his eyes. The short, blonde curls he had grown up with were dark and stringy and long enough to hook behind his ears. Just as when he had been led across the lawn, the children stopped and looked at him as he passed.  
  
"Is that the boy that has been in Time Out, Mamma?" one girl asked, looking at Richie around a cabinet door.  
  
"Yes. Boy obeyed for the first time today. Mamma has brought him to be rewarded."  
  
"Is he going to sleep in our room, Mamma?" a boy asked, putting down the flour he had been sifting.  
  
"Boy will stay in the nursery," Mamma answered. "He is not ready to sleep with the big boys."  
  
"Nursery?" Richie repeated quietly.  
  
"Boy will see," Mamma told him. "He will like it." She sat him down at a table in the corner and threaded his leash through a hole that had been carved into the wood. "Be a good boy and stay quiet. Mamma will get him dinner." Richie nodded. Less than a minute later she returned with a plate of macaroni and cheese, a bowl of strawberries and a cup of ice water with a lid on it. She sat next to him with the food in front of her. Richie looked at her for a second trying to figure out why he wasn't being given the food.  
  
"Thank you," he tried.  
  
She smiled at him. "Boy must say his prayers," she told him. "Repeat after Mamma. Holy Master."  
  
"Holy Master."  
  
"Thank you for the food."  
  
"Thank you for the food," he repeated.  
  
"Bless my Master." Richie hesitated. "Bless my Master," she said again.  
  
"Bless my Master," he whispered.  
  
"Bless my brothers."  
  
"Bless my brothers."  
  
"Bless my sisters."  
  
"Bless my sisters."  
  
"Bless Mamma."  
  
"Bless Mamma."  
  
"And help me to be a good boy."  
  
"And help me to be a good boy," he choked over the words.  
  
"Amen."  
  
"Amen."  
  
"Very good!" she praised him, picking up a spoon full of macaroni. She held it up to Richie. He paused for a moment then opened his mouth.  
  
He took the time she was feeding him to process what was happening. He was going to stay in the nursery and was being fed. She had taught him a prayer. He was the baby. 'What no high chair?' he thought.  
  
Once he had finished the food, he was given the water. He got to hold it himself. It gave him a strange sense of pride that it wasn't in a bottle. It was more of a teenager sized sippy cup. Once he was done, a girl came to collect his dishes. Then a boy came over with a plate of cookies. Mamma selected one and gave it to Richie.  
  
While he was eating his cookie, Mamma unhooked his leash and led him through a different door. She took him down a long flight of stairs. He was worried she was taking him back to his little room. The one the girl had referred to as 'Time Out'. But then he remembered that Mamma had told the boy that Richie was to sleep in the nursery. Before he could wonder what it would be like, Mamma opened another door and he found out.  
  
The room was decorated in pastel blues and pinks. There were two beds against either side wall. The wall the door faced was a big window that looked out over the lawn. In front of the window were two tubs.  
  
"Time for boy to be washed," Mamma told him and took him to a large tub under the window. It had been filled with water and there was soap, sponges, shampoo, a comb and scissors sitting on small table beside it. "Does boy promise to be good?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Richie answered. He was finally full and was getting tired. He didn't have the energy to resist what was going to happen.  
  
To his surprise, Mamma unhooked the chains from the cuffs of his shackles, unhooked his leash from his collar and helped him step into the tub. The water was nice and warm. It felt good to the boy that had been cold for so long. She took a sponge and began to scrub at his back, then his arms, then his legs, then his neck, then his face. The off white sponge was black by the time she had finished. She put it on the table and soaped up a second sponge, repeated the process, and then again with a third. Richie fought the urge to ask for a rubber ducky to play with. She then helped him out of the first tub and into the second. It was a little longer and she had him lay down so she could wash his hair. She then took the comb and scissors and cut the long locks away until his hair was short and curly again. Then she had him stand up and wrapped him in a huge towel from the shelves in the corner. The towel hung loosely around his body down to his ankles. He felt like he was three all over again. 'If she puts a diaper on me. I swear.'  
  
After drying him off she took him over to one of the beds. She drew back the covers and tucked him in.  
  
"Boy has been very good today," she smiled down at him. "Mamma is very proud. Does boy remember his prayers?" she asked. Richie just looked at her. "Holy Master, bless my Master," she started and waited for him to repeat it. She then ran him through the entire prayer again. After he said his 'Amen' she kissed his forehead and went to turn out the light. "Time for boy to sleep," she told him. She then left the room closing the door on her way out.  
  
Richie didn't even have to get up to know he was stuck. He had examined the window closely while sitting in the tub. There was no lock and it was double paned. He looked across the room and saw no handle on his side of the door and no lock to pick.  
  
Instead of going straight to sleep, he looked out the window at the sun set. "God," he whispered. "I know I deserve this. And I have no right to ask you for anything. But please, help Mac and Tessa move on. Help them be happy. Tell them I'm grateful for all they did for me and I love them. I wish I had had time to repay them. And please, I beg you, help me forget. I don't want to remember. Help me to be good so I can live. Please. Amen." He closed his eyes and shortly after fell asleep. 


	4. CHAPTER FOUR

The next morning, Mamma woke Richie up and brought him breakfast. She talked to him while she fed him at a table in one corner. She then told him that he was to stay in the nursery and she would send children to play with him later on in the afternoon. Richie spent the morning watching the children work in the garden. They cut the grass, pulled weeds, watered, and planted. A couple even got into a water fight with their hoses. Richie wondered how anyone could be so happy being a slave. But it was a nice day outside. the sky was clear, the sun was out. Richie suddenly wanted to go outside. It had been over a year since his kidnapping according to the guy in the hall. A year since he had been outside. Hell, it had been a year since he had seen the outside. Richie looked past the children and noticed that they were on the coast somewhere. He could see the ocean from his window. The ocean. it had been forever since he had been in the ocean. Richie heard the door to his room open and looked to see who it was. It was Master and two children carrying trays. Richie looked at him.  
  
"Ahem?" Master cleared his throat. Richie paused then crouched on the floor. "That's better. I have brought lunch. Would you like to join me?" Richie craned his neck to look up at the man. "This is where you say 'Yes, Master'," he prompted.  
  
"Yes, Master," Richie repeated, still fumbling over the words.  
  
"Then come here." Richie got up and walked over to the table. The two children put the trays down and Master shooed them out of the room. "Now when you sit with the rest of the children, you will all join hands to say your prayers. But since it is just you and me you get to do it by yourself." Richie looked at him. "Go on. I know Mamma has taught it to you." Richie recited the prayer. "Very good. Now you may eat."  
  
For the first time since Richie had been let out of Time Out, he got to feed himself. Master sat beside him and ate his lunch. When they were done, Master called for the children that had apparently been waiting outside the door to take the trays away.  
  
"Stand up and let me see what I can do with you," Mater ordered. He hit Richie in the head when he didn't immediately move to get up. "When I tell you to do something, you do it. No questions asked; no thinking involved and no hesitation! Do you understand?" Richie took too long to answer and received another blow to the head. "Yes, Master."  
  
"Yes, Master," Richie quickly repeated.  
  
"Now stand up and let me see what I can do with you." Richie jumped to his feet. "That was much better," Master said giving him an approving pat on the head. He cupped Richie's cheek with his hand and looked him in the eye. "I don't like having to be so rough with you. But you must learn to obey. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"See? You've already learned your lesson. Now, you have a nice face. body's not bad. could use less baby fat, need toning," he murmured as he walked around Richie cupping and grabbing. "Now this." he smiled, stopping in front of Richie and taking his exposed penis in his hand. "You will make a good chamber boy."  
  
"What the fuck, man?!" Richie barked jerking away. "Don't touch me!"  
  
Master grabbed Richie by the arm. "Do not EVER use that tone with me!" he yelled, backhanding Richie. "I am your master. I own you!" He threw Richie to the floor. "I may touch what I want of my property!" Richie huddled into a ball as he tried to protect himself as Master beat him and yelled. "I own you! You are mine and I will do as I please with you!"  
  
"Master!" Mamma scolded from the doorway. "What has boy done?"  
  
"He must learn to be complacent," Master said as he continued to hit Richie.  
  
"Did Master warn boy he was going to touch him?" Mamma asked pointedly, putting a gently restraining hand on Master's shoulder. "Boy is new. He will learn his place. Give him time."  
  
"Handle him," Master said before he turned and left.  
  
"Boy," Mamma said shaking her head fondly at Richie who lay sobbing on the floor in a pool of his own blood. "You must learn. Master will not hurt you."  
  
"Yeah, right," Richie scoffed.  
  
Mamma landed a solid whack on an exposed butt cheek. "Manners!"  
  
"I'm sorry," he apologized quickly.  
  
"Good." Mamma helped him to his feet and sat him on his bed. "Boy will stay here and Mamma will fetch children to draw him a bath."  
  
She left and came back a few minutes later with four children behind her. Two went straight to the blood and began to clean it up and one began to fill the tub with warm water. The fourth knelt by Richie's bed and openly stared at him.  
  
"What did you do?" the girl asked.  
  
Richie blinked. None of the children had ever addressed him before. "Nothing," he answered looking away.  
  
"Mamma said you refused Master's touch. Is that true?"  
  
"So what? He had no right to do that."  
  
"Of course he does. He owns you."  
  
"Nobody owns Richie Ryan," he told her.  
  
"Who's Richie Ryan?"  
  
"I am!"  
  
"But Master owns you. He bought you."  
  
"He kidnapped me," Richie told her.  
  
"He takes care of you; he feeds you."  
  
"No one asked him to."  
  
"Boy!" Mamma scolded, popping him in the head. "Boy must not speak of Master that way."  
  
"It's true," he challenged, earning him another smack in the head.  
  
"Boy must learn his place. Get in the tub." She looked at him with a look he had seen before. A mother's no nonsense look.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, getting up.  
  
The boy who had been filling the tub laughed. "Why does he call you ma'am, Mamma?"  
  
"Because he knows no better. Boy will tell him what to say if boy is so smart," Mamma said with a smile.  
  
"That's Mamma," the boy told Richie. "Ma'am is what you call guests. Unless they're boys, then you call them 'sir.' Everybody knows that. You must be really."  
  
"That's enough," Mamma interrupted. "Boy may go."  
  
"Yes. ma'am," he giggled and left the room.  
  
Mamma washed the blood off of Richie and Richie watched the other children clean the room. The bed was stripped and remade and the floor was spotless by the time Mamma let him out of the tub.  
  
"Now," she told him patiently. "What has boy learned today?"  
  
"That I'm supposed to call you Mamma," Richie answered.  
  
"And?"  
  
"Do what I'm told," he said after a minute.  
  
"And?"  
  
"Answer. Master. when he asks you something."  
  
"And?" Richie shrugged. "What was the big lesson boy learned today?" Richie still didn't answer. "Boy learned that Master will not hurt him when he touches him."  
  
"I don't like people touching me.'specially not like that."  
  
Mamma smiled. "That is because boy is a baby still. When he is older he will not mind," she said steering him towards the bed. "Now it is time for all good boys to take a nap."  
  
"I haven't done anything!" Richie protested. "I haven't left this dumb room! How am I supposed to be tired enough to take a nap?"  
  
"Then boy will lie quietly until Mamma comes to wake him." Not knowing what else to do, Richie got into the bed and let Mamma tuck him in. "Good boy," she smiled at him. "Lay still and quiet. Mamma will be back soon." She kissed his temple, closed the curtains blocking out the sun, turned off the light and left.  
  
Richie started at the curtains. He wanted to get up and open them so he could watch the other kids, but knew better than to get up when he had been told to lay still. When Tessa had forced him into bed for a nap he had always gotten his walkman or.  
  
'STOP!' his mind screamed. 'Don't think about it! You have to forget them! Remembering will just make it worse!'  
  
Richie didn't know when he had fallen asleep, but the next thing he knew Mamma was waking him up again. "Mamma has brought boy a playmate," she told him when he rolled over to look at her.  
  
"A what?" Richie repeated in confusion.  
  
"Children play nice," Mamma said as she left the room, closing the door behind her.  
  
"Hello, boy," a soft voice said. Richie sat up and saw a girl getting up from the floor where she had been kneeling. "Do you want to play?" she continued in a childlike voice.  
  
"Play?" Richie repeated.  
  
"Yes," she pulled back the covers on Richie's bed and got in next to him. "How do you like to play?"  
  
"What are you talking about?" Richie asked, scooting into the wall.  
  
"Don't you want to play with me?" she asked, slightly hurt.  
  
"I don't know what you're talking about!"  
  
"Play. like grown-ups do."  
  
"I am a grown-up," Richie insisted. "I'm 18; that makes me an adult."  
  
"Silly boy," the girl giggled. "You are Master's child. We all are."  
  
"What? Are you nuts? That guy kidnapped me!"  
  
"Master would never kidnap anyone. But I saw the men who brought you."  
  
"Well, they kidnapped me," Richie insisted. "I don't belong here. I have a home!"  
  
"Your home is here, with Master. Unless you get sold."  
  
"He sells you guys?"  
  
"If a family needs a child, Master will give us to them."  
  
"You do realize that slavery is wrong, right? I mean, there was a whole war over this!"  
  
"The children gladly serve their master."  
  
"Why? Why don't you run away? Call for help?"  
  
"Because Master doesn't allow us to use the phone. It's not a toy."  
  
"No shit! Look, I have a number I can give you. If you call, Mac will come get us all. I know he will." It was his last attempt to find a way to be rescued.  
  
"Master says we are not allowed to use the phone. Why do you think I will go against him?"  
  
"Hell, I won't even pull back the curtains," Richie mumbled to himself. "And I've barely been around."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Look, you gotta tell me what the hell is going on here. What is this place?"  
  
"This is the nursery. Where the young children sleep until they are old enough to sleep with the big kids."  
  
"Not here. here. The house. What do you guys do all day?"  
  
"We serve."  
  
Richie groaned. "How? What do you do exactly?"  
  
"I am a chamber girl," the girl answered proudly.  
  
"And what do you do?"  
  
"I keep my guests' rooms clean, unpack and repack their bags, and make sure they have everything they need."  
  
Richie swallowed. Master had mentioned putting him in chambers. "You don't.'play' with the guests, do you?"  
  
"If they wish me to," she answered without missing a beat.  
  
"And you're okay with that? I mean, you're like what? Fifteen years old? That's statutory rape!"  
  
"What's statutory rape?" the girl asked.  
  
"Having sex with a minor too young to know if they want to have sex or not," Richie told her. An old girlfriend had been sent to jail over him because of it.  
  
"But Master says it is okay to play with the guests. They have to ask him first."  
  
Richie rolled his eyes; there was no convincing this girl! "Okay, I've seen the slaves in the yard and kitchen. What else do you guys do around here?"  
  
"That's it. And we're not slaves."  
  
"Then what's with the chains and collars? Just kinky props?" Richie's chains had been off since his first bath and while he was curious, he didn't want to bring it up to Master or Mamma in case they just forgot to put them back on.  
  
"It is what all children wear."  
  
"What's with the numbers?" Richie asked, fingering the small tag that hung off his collar.  
  
"Master has far too many children to name us all, the numbers are how he keeps us all straight."  
  
"So what do you call each other? Boy or Girl?" he half joked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Doesn't that get confusing?"  
  
"It will confuse you at first, but in time it makes sense."  
  
"What if I don't buy into this?" Richie asked. "What if I refuse to be a slave?"  
  
"We aren't slaves."  
  
"Well, what if I refuse to be Master's child or whatever you are?"  
  
"No one has ever refused. Master would be angry, I suppose. He may ground you."  
  
"What I can't leave my room?"  
  
"No, when Master grounds someone. well, I've only seen it happen once. It was scary."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"Master took the girl for a walk. then there was all this lightning out by the water. and she never came back. He said she had been grounded."  
  
"Lightning?" Richie swallowed. That made up his mind for him. He had been going back and forth on just going along with what was happening and trying to escape. Despite what he told himself, he knew he would never be able to give up his head when all he had to do was keep his mouth shut and do what he was told to live.  
  
"Children do not wish to play?" Mamma asked coming back into the room.  
  
"You never told me that he'd kill me!" Richie accused. "How can you leave that part out?"  
  
"What is boy talking about?"  
  
"He killed that girl! By the water!"  
  
"Girl," Mamma said turning to the girl in the bed. "Go see if the kitchen children need help."  
  
"Yes, Mamma," the girl said, getting up and leaving the room.  
  
"Now, boy, calm down. Tell Mamma what boy is talking about?"  
  
"She said some girl made him mad and he took her by the water and took her Quickening."  
  
"Boy, Mamma has said not to speak of such things."  
  
"But."  
  
"Mamma knows what girl told boy. Behave and Master will be kind," Mamma assured him. "But boy should be happy. Master has decided on his job."  
  
"I already know. He's gonna put me in his stable, isn't he?"  
  
"How does boy know of Master's horses?"  
  
"We're talking about two different things. He's gonna make me one of his whores, isn't he?"  
  
"What is boy talking about?"  
  
"Look, just tell me, what's he gonna do with me?"  
  
"Master likes boy and has decided that boy will serve Master."  
  
"But what do I gotta do?" Richie asked, not understanding what Mamma meant.  
  
"Boy will serve Master."  
  
"I know that part. I got that, all the children serve Master blah blah blah. What am I gonna do? Sex, cleaning, cooking, yard work. what?"  
  
Mamma smiled. "Boy will follow Master and do as he is told."  
  
"So I gotta like. carry his junk around for him?"  
  
"If he asks."  
  
"What about.'playing'? I don't gotta do that, do I?"  
  
"The children do not play with Master. But if boy serves a guest, he may be invited to play."  
  
"What if I don't wanna? He gonna kill me?"  
  
"Boy will not have to worry about that for some time. Tomorrow Master will come to speak with boy."  
  
"He's not gonna beat me again is he?"  
  
"As long as boy behaves himself he will be fine."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Now, Mamma has decided boy will help her today." Mamma stood up and picked up the discarded chains off the shelves and fixed them to the cuffs around Richie's ankles and wrists. "Boy will behave?" she asked, picking up a gag.  
  
"Yes. Mamma."  
  
"Master has taken a special liking to boy," she told him as she took hold of his leash. "Mamma sees great things for boy in the future." 


	5. CHAPTER FIVE

"We have to do it," Tessa said resolutely as she picked up laundry off Richie's floor.  
  
"It's time," Duncan agreed, stripping the bed.  
  
"We can't live in the past."  
  
"We have to accept what happened."  
  
"He's not coming back."  
  
"We can't pretend he is."  
  
"He's." Tessa started. "He's." she tried again as tears welled up in her eyes. "I can't say it!" she finally sobbed. "I want him to come home!"  
  
"I know, Tessa," Duncan soothed, putting his arms around her. "We aren't giving up hope. We're just moving on. Richie wouldn't want us to sit around like zombies."  
  
"I miss him so much! How could someone do this?! He was just a child. A baby!"  
  
"It's been three years. we have to move on. He's not coming back."  
  
"I can't bury an empty coffin, Duncan," Tessa told him. "I can't!"  
  
Two weeks later, Tessa, Duncan, Nikki, Angie, some of Richie's other friends, some foster parents, social workers, and even a few police officers stood around the coffin suspended above the ground by a pulley system. Duncan looked around, surprised by how many people had shown up for the missing boy's funeral.  
  
"Richard Ryan, may you rest in peace," the priest finished.  
  
The coffin filled with Richie's most prized possessions and some mementos from his friends and well wishers was lowered into the ground. Duncan had bought the plot next to Emily Ryan to bury Richie. It felt right to let his memory stay in Seacouver where he had grown up.  
  
"I'm so sorry, Mr. MacLeod, Ms. Noel," Angie said when the service was over. "I really thought he was going to go places and you were going to be the ones to get him there. He really liked you guys."  
  
"Thank you, Angie," Duncan said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I know you were a good friend of his."  
  
"You guys were the best thing that ever happened to him," Nikki said before leaving abruptly.  
  
Everyone gave their condolences after introducing themselves.  
  
"There never was a dull moment in the house with Richie around," a foster father had said. "He was a great kid."  
  
"The highlight of my day was dealing with that kid," Officer Manon said. "He may have had a temper but he was quick witted. He must of thought very highly of you because we didn't see him much after he moved. He may have been a trouble magnet, but he was a good kid."  
  
After everyone had left, Tessa and Duncan took a minute to say good bye before they went home.  
  
"Mon petit," Tessa whispered. "If you can, come home."  
  
"I swear. if you show up on our doorstep." Duncan issued the empty threat. "Just behave yourself. wherever you are."  
  
Richard Ryan  
September 20, 1974  
We Miss You  
  
While Duncan and Tessa were trying their best to always remember; Richie was forcing himself to forget. Little by little his memory of living anywhere but at his master's manor faded away. Soon all he was left with were mysterious dreams he could barely remember when he woke up.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie woke up to the smiling face of Mamma. "Good morning, Mamma."  
  
"Good morning, boy. Time to get up."  
  
"Yes, Mamma."  
  
Richie sat up and let Mamma brush his hair. She smiled at him then went to wake the other children. Richie followed with a spring in his step. They went from bed to bed waking each child as they passed. Mamma would shake the child awake and Richie would brush their hair before they got up to go to breakfast. First they woke all the boys then woke all the girls.  
  
When Richie got to the bed fifth from the door on the right wall, he grinned sheepishly as he moved to brush her hair. "Good morning, girl," he said quietly.  
  
"Good morning, boy," she answered just as quietly.  
  
"Did you sleep well?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Will you be rewarded today?"  
  
"Yes, Master said I may play with whomever I choose after lunch."  
  
"Who do you choose?" Richie asked, hoping it was him.  
  
"A kitchen boy," she told him.  
  
"Oh." Richie didn't work in the kitchen.  
  
"Boy," Mamma called. "It is time to go to next girl."  
  
Richie blushed, having been caught flirting, and moved to his task. Once the last girl had had her hair brushed, Richie and Mamma went to the children's dining room. Richie stood in his place at the head of the long table. Less than a minute later, the door opened and Master came in. The children all dropped to the floor and bowed.  
  
"Good morning, children," he greeted them.  
  
"Good morning, Master," they chorused.  
  
"You may sit." The children stood up and took their seats. The table was higher than usual, about chest high when the children sat down. Master and Mamma set bowls of scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, butter, and jelly on the table at strategic points. Master made breakfast for the children every morning. The children whom the bowls had been set in front of served themselves then passed it to their right. Once the bowls had made it all the way around the table, they all held hands and bowed their heads.  
  
"Holy Master, thank you for the food. Bless my Master," they all recited. "Bless my brothers. Bless my sisters. Bless Mamma. And help me to be a good boy/girl. Amen."  
  
They let go of their hands and started shoving food into their mouths. Master smiled and went from child to child pouring juice or milk depending on what they wanted. He went down the two sides and saved Richie for last.  
  
"How is my baby boy?" he asked squeezing Richie on the shoulder.  
  
"Bwrygootatu," Richie answered around his toast and bacon.  
  
Master laughed at him. "You are a child. Would you like to help me today?"  
  
"Yes, Master," Richie said excitedly. It was always a treat to help Master. The work was light and he nearly always got to watch a movie or play with the dogs for most of the day.  
  
"I have a present for you," he whispered in his ear. "Help the kitchen children clear the table and then wait for me in the nursery."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
The first time Master had promised Richie a present, he had gotten a new collar. Instead of plain black leather, his was now light blue with a gold tag hanging from it with his number engraved on it. He wondered what he would be getting next.  
  
"Master has a present for me," he told Mamma as he piled dishes on a cart.  
  
"Then boy must finish his chores to go see what it is."  
  
Richie smiled and pushed his cart into the kitchen. He rinsed each dish before handing it to a girl who put them in soapy water.  
  
"Master has a present for me," a boy said in a high squeaky voice, glaring at Richie.  
  
"So?" Richie asked.  
  
"It's not fair," the boy said. "You're nothing special."  
  
"You're jealous."  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Am not!"  
  
"Are too!"  
  
"Boys!" Mamma scolded from the doorway. "What are boys fighting about?"  
  
"He's jealous," Richie said, pointing accusingly at the other boy. "'Cause Master likes me better!"  
  
"Now, boy," Mamma told him gently. "You are being rude. Boy has not hurt you. Apologize."  
  
Richie looked at the other boy. "I'm sorry."  
  
"Boy, too," Mamma told the other boy.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
"Now make up."  
  
The two boys hugged and gave each other a kiss on the cheek, then looked at Mamma for her approval. "Very good. Now boys must finish their chores."  
  
Ten minutes later, Richie was sitting in his large bed in the nursery waiting for Master to come with his present. He got tired of waiting and stood up. He had been jumping on the bed for a couple minutes when Master came in.  
  
"Boy," he tried to scold, but he was smiling. "Are you allowed to do that?"  
  
Richie folded his legs under himself in midair and landed on his butt. "Do what?" he asked as if he had been sitting on the bed the entire time.  
  
"Ahem," Master cleared his throat.  
  
"Oh, yeah." Richie slid off the bed and crouched on the floor.  
  
"You must remember yourself," Master told him. "I know you are young, but you will offend my guests. You don't want to do that, do you?"  
  
"No, Master," Richie answered to the floor. "I'm sorry."  
  
"That's better. But maybe you aren't ready for your present."  
  
"I'll be good!" Richie insisted straitening up. "Please?"  
  
Master pretended to debate it, then handed Richie the brightly wrapped box. With a big grin, Richie ripped the paper and opened the box. Inside was a new set of shackles. But instead of being made of iron like the other children's and the ones he wore now, they were shiny and gold. There was also a thin gold leash.  
  
"Do you like them?"  
  
"Yes, Master," Richie answered quickly. "They're beautiful."  
  
"I knew you would like them."  
  
"Yes, Master. You are very kind." Richie bowed again. "You are too generous; I am undeserving."  
  
"You're my baby boy," Master told him petting his head, prompting him to look up. "You are very special to me. I want you to be happy."  
  
"Thank you, Master," Richie smiled, throwing his arms around Master's neck.  
  
Master kissed his cheek. "You are welcome. Would you like me to help you with them?"  
  
"Yes, Master," Richie said eagerly, thrusting the box into Master's hands.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie happily followed Master through the corridors smiling proudly every time a guest passed. He was very happy every time Master stopped to talk to someone so he could kneel and hold his head up high to show off his leash. A few people commented on his shackles. He had decided to wear the chains as well, even though he hadn't worn chains in months, to show off that he was special. That day he followed Master around the manner, carried his papers, and got to play in the office while he scheduled guests.  
  
He was happily making one porcelain figurine attack another one when there was a knock on the door. Richie automatically got up to open it. A man walked in toting the boy Richie had been fighting with that morning behind him.  
  
"This boy needs to be punished," the man said as he threw the boy to the floor.  
  
Richie closed the door and knelt beside it, ready to spring up and open it when the man was ready to leave.  
  
"What has he done?" Master asked, looking at the boy who had already assumed the submissive position that all the children used to show Master respect.  
  
"He can't perform the duties I paid for him to do! He's limp!"  
  
"He is, is he? Has he offered to find a solution to your problem?"  
  
"No, he just sat there and stared at himself!"  
  
"Then he will be punished. Would you like to do it, or would you rather I deal with him?"  
  
"You do it, and I want a new boy!"  
  
"Very well," Master said calmly. "Would that boy be satisfactory?" He gestured to Richie, who was kneeling by the door.  
  
Then man turned around. "Stand up, boy," he ordered. Richie stood and kept his head bowed. "He looks expensive," he commented, fingering Richie's shackles.  
  
"I assure you that you will not be paying the higher rate."  
  
"Then I'll take him."  
  
"Very well." Master helped the other boy up off the floor and told Richie to take him to the boys' room and then meet the man in his chambers. Richie nodded, took the other boy's leash and left the room.  
  
"Thanks a lot," He mumbled over his shoulder as he led the boy down the hall.  
  
"For what, making you do what everyone else does?"  
  
"I was serving Master," Richie said turning around to face the boy. "I don't like serving guests."  
  
"But Master told you to, so you have to," the other boy pointed out as they entered the serving boys' room.  
  
"I'm going to tell Mamma," Richie told him with a smug smile. "She won't make me."  
  
"I bet she does."  
  
"Not if I tell her I don't want to."  
  
"You're such a baby. You always think you can get what you want," the other boy pouted.  
  
"I can. See this?" Richie asked him, holding up his leash to the one still grasped in his hand. "He gave me this. It's better than yours is. Yours should be on a dog!"  
  
"Take that back."  
  
"Or what?" Richie challenged. In response, the boy hit Richie hard across the jaw, sending him stumbling back a few paces. Since he still had the other boy's leash in his hand the boy was forced to follow. Richie swung hard and hit the boy so hard he fell. He knelt over him and started swinging. Mamma found them rolling on the floor, yelling, and hitting.  
  
"Boys!" she yelled kicking at the two to get their attention. They ignored her and kept fighting. "Go get Master," Mamma told the girl that had come in with her to change the sheets.  
  
"What is this!?" Master yelled angrily pulling Richie off of the boy. "Why are you fighting?"  
  
"He started it!" the boys accused at the same time.  
  
Master looked at Richie and his split lip. "Are you okay?" he asked quietly putting a hand on Richie's cheek. Richie nodded. "Why is he bleeding?" Master asked the other boy. The boy didn't answer. "You know better than to hit him. He's a baby. You can easily hurt him and you have."  
  
"He hit me, too," the boy defended.  
  
"You hit me first!" Richie countered.  
  
"Mamma, please clean them up and then bring them to my office."  
  
Ten minutes later, Richie and the boy were kneeling on the floor while Master paced in front of him. "How dare you two be so immature!? You know better than to fight with your brothers. much less hit one. And you," he pointed at the boy next to Richie. "You know better than to hit a baby."  
  
"Yes, Master," the boy mumbled.  
  
"It is only fit that you be punished. You will spend two days in Time Out starting tomorrow morning. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"And you," he turned to Richie. "You will serve boy his meals. Starting tomorrow at breakfast."  
  
"Yes, Master," Richie said.  
  
"And when you are not serving, boy, you will stand in the corner and not speak for one day."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"And you will serve your guest. And he may punish you for being late."  
  
"I don't want to," Richie protested.  
  
"I was going to find someone to take your place," Master told him squatting so they were eye to eye. "Because I know you don't like to serve guests you don't know in chambers. but I think that will a good reminder that you are not to fight, do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
The other boy tried not to hide his anger. He would have been beaten for questioning what he was told. But Master didn't so much as scold Richie. It wasn't fair.  
  
"Now you may both go."  
  
Richie's guest beat him pretty badly for being late. But once that was over, he was ready to get down to business.  
  
That night Richie ate his dinner quietly while glaring at the boy down the table from him. He hated being in trouble. Master rarely punished him and when he did it was all Richie could do to keep from throwing a fit. He had done that the first time and had been spanked for doing it and his punishment still stood.  
  
He and the boy were taken to the Quiet room right after dinner. They were being punished and were not allowed to hear the bedtime story Master was going to read to the other children. After saying their prayers, they were put in the same bed. Richie didn't like sharing a room with the other boys so he usually got to sleep in the nursery. But Mamma stood firm that he was to share a bed with the other boy that night. He was sure he could find some way of getting Master to change or shorten his punishment, he just had to think for a while and it would come to him. 'Well, maybe in the morning.' Richie continued to pout silently until he finally fell asleep. 


	6. CHAPTER SIX

WARNING: There is a section in this chapter that may offend anyone with strict religious beliefs. Please note that it is only for the effect of the story and is not meant as a commentary on any certain religions. It is a product of someone who is truly sick in their beliefs (Master). This part is marked within the story as to where it begins and ends if anyone wishes to skip that particular part.  
  
Richie entered Master's office silently carrying the tray of hot tea. He stood by the wall with the tray until Master beckoned him forward to place the tray on the desk. Master took it from there. Richie took his spot kneeling at Master's feet.  
  
"What about that one?" the man on the other side of the desk asked.  
  
"I'm afraid he is not available for scheduling."  
  
"Surly we can come to some agreement?"  
  
"I'm afraid not. He has a select list of clientele who all have him reserved for exclusive service."  
  
"How do you get on the list?"  
  
"I'm afraid he's booked," Master insisted, scratching Richie's head as if he were a loyal dog. "Now, any of the other children are available. All you have to do is look through the book and pick one."  
  
This was a new guest. Richie had never seen him before. And he didn't like to serve strangers. Master knew that and would never make him serve someone new without Richie agreeing to it. Richie only served people he liked. Master made sure of that.  
  
"Alright then," the man agreed at long last, taking the book from Master's hand.  
  
Richie had looked through the book before. It had pictures of all the children along with their ID numbers, areas of service, special talents, price of their service and asking price for purchase. Richie was the last page. No. 25897, $10,000 a night (chamber services only), $15,000 a day (chamber, meal, and needed service), not for sale. Richie was very proud of that last line; he was the only of Master's children not for sale.  
  
"I'll take him," the man decided. "Number 18362. Three nights. I'll use a house child during the day."  
  
"Excellent selection. I'll have a boy attend to your luggage. You'll find a daily schedule in the top desk drawer. And I will arrange for a girl to be prepared to serve your meals. I hope you enjoy your stay." Master stood, shook the man's hand and ushered him out of the room as Richie scurried to open the door ahead of them. He then returned to his desk and picked up the phone. It connected immediately to the girl who helped Mamma keep things running smoothly. He ordered for a house boy to take the man's luggage to room 34. "Now," he said turning to Richie. "I have a new girl to see to. Would you like to come along?"  
  
"Yes, Master," Richie answered. He had been curious about the girl who had been in Time Out for the past month. He had only seen her when she had been brought in.  
  
He followed Master down the hall, around the corner, and down the stairs to the Time Out rooms, where they met Mamma.  
  
"Girl is ready," Mamma said with a proud smile. "Mamma has spoken with her and she has agreed."  
  
"Master," Richie said moving to the door. "I want to see her."  
  
"Ahem?"  
  
"May I see her?" Richie corrected.  
  
Master smiled. This was one boy who had completely devoted himself to the role he was chosen for. The first moment Master had seen him, he knew he would be a hard case to crack. But like a coconut, once cracked he had been completely defenseless. He made the perfect total child. He was curious, adventuresome, innocent looking, and needy of the attention. He had become exactly what Master wanted.  
  
"You may help Mamma prepare her. Would you like that?"  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"Okay. Now be good and wait here while Mamma and I speak with her."  
  
"Yes, Master." Richie knelt next to the door as they walked into the small room. He could hear them talking softly then Master left the room.  
  
"Be a good boy," he reminded him before going up the stairs.  
  
Mamma came out a few minutes later with the girl following her. Richie waited for them to pass then followed. This was the first new child since he had arrived. The three went into the kitchen where Mamma sat the girl at the table in the corner and Richie sat beside her. Richie sat quietly as Mamma fed the girl and was rewarded with a cookie, as was the girl. Then they went into the nursery to give the girl a bath. Richie helped by giving Mamma the shampoo, soap, or sponge depending on what she needed. Finally, it was time for bed.  
  
"How would boy like for girl to stay in the nursery with him?" Mamma asked Richie.  
  
"Can she?"  
  
"Yes, because she is a baby, too."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Good, now why don't boy and girl say their prayers together?"  
  
"Okay." Richie took the girl by her trembling hand. "I'll teach you," he told her with a warm smile as he led her to the other bed. He knelt on the floor, put his elbows on the bed, and clasped his hands together. "You, too," he told her. She moved to comply. "Okay, repeat after me. Holy Master."  
  
"Holy Master."  
  
"Bless my master."  
  
"Bless my master."  
  
"Bless my brothers."  
  
"Bless my brothers."  
  
"Bless my sisters."  
  
"Bless my sisters."  
  
"Bless Mamma."  
  
"Bless Mamma."  
  
"And help me to be a good boy.. except you say girl."  
  
"And help me to be a good girl."  
  
"Amen."  
  
"Amen."'  
  
"And now it's time for bed. This is your bed."  
  
"Mamma will handle this," Mamma said with a smile shooing Richie away. Richie went over to stand by his bed. Mamma spoke quietly with the girl for a minute before coming to tuck him in. She smiled sweetly at him as he crawled into bed. "Boy was very good today," she told him as she pulled the blankets up.  
  
"Why is she sad?" he asked nodding to the girl across the room.  
  
"Girl is sad because she is scared."  
  
"Why is she scared?"  
  
"All children are scared when they are somewhere new. It will pass."  
  
"Was I scared when I was first here?"  
  
"Boy does not remember?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Boy was scared. Is he now?"  
  
Richie smiled and rolled his eyes. "No."  
  
"And girl will not be for long. Boy learned and so will she."  
  
"Maybe she wants a story," Richie suggested.  
  
Mamma smiled. "Does she want a story or does boy?"  
  
"Both. Don't you want to hear a story?" he asked the girl across the room. She sniffled and rolled her back to him. "Maybe just me."  
  
"Okay," Mamma agreed. "What story does boy want to hear?"  
  
Richie thought it over. "The story of the first Master."  
  
*****RELIGIOUS THEME*****  
  
"Alright. Long ago the Holy Master created the world. Then he created a boy to take care of the creatures and plants. But boy was lonely, so the Holy Master created a girl to keep him company and play with. Holy Master said that they could do whatever they wanted, except."  
  
"They couldn't eat the apples off the tree," Richie supplied.  
  
"That's right. But one day girl decided to go against Holy Master and she took two apples from the tree. One for her and one for boy. She gave the apple to boy and they ate them."  
  
"Then Holy Master found out."  
  
"Yes, and he was very angry at the children for disobeying him. So he punished them. Then he created a man to watch over the children and keep them from being bad. And that man was the first master."  
  
*****END RELIGIOUS THEME*****  
  
"Now," Mamma said, kissing Richie's forehead. "It is time for boy to go to sleep."  
  
"Good night, Mamma."  
  
Richie closed his eyes and quickly drifted into a light sleep. He was forced to sleep so much, ten hours a night and an hour and a half in the afternoons, that his body had adjusted to sleep lightly the entire time. The girl in the bed across the room, however, didn't find it so easy to sleep. She was too scared. The silence left her time to dread her new situation. Her quiet tears turned into sobs, which got stronger and stronger until she gagged herself and threw up all over the bed. Richie was awake a split second later and at her side.  
  
"Are you okay, girl?" he asked putting a hand on her shoulder. She continued sobbing. "You threw up. I'll get Mamma; she'll make you feel better." He knocked on the wall by his bed a few times. There was a knock in return and a few seconds later the door opened.  
  
"What is wrong?" Mamma asked.  
  
"She's sick," Richie explained. He was back at the girl's side trying to comfort her. "She threw up and everything."  
  
"Oh, poor girl," Mamma cooed. "She is sick. Boy, take the sheets to the wash then get Master."  
  
"Yes, Mamma."  
  
Mamma led the girl out of the room and Richie did as he was told. Soon he and Master were in Mamma's room where the girl had been settled into another bed.  
  
"What's wrong with her?" Master asked standing next to Mamma.  
  
"She's sick," Richie said. "She threw up."  
  
"I know that!" he snapped. Richie jumped. "Go wait in the hall."  
  
"Yes, Master," Richie said softly, hanging his head because he had no tail to tuck between his legs. He went out into the hall and knelt by the door. Master was angry with him and he didn't know why. Richie was left to think about what he might have done wrong for a few minutes. Then Master came out of the room.  
  
"Boy," he said, gently putting his hand on Richie's shoulder.  
  
"I'm sorry, Master," Richie answered bowing down. "I was bad."  
  
"No, no, you weren't bad. I was concerned about girl and snapped at you. Now, sit up." He did. "You thought you were helping." Richie stayed quiet, not sure what to do or say. "Would you like to sleep with me tonight?" Master offered.  
  
A big grin broke across Richie's face. "Yes, Master," he answered excitedly.  
  
"Okay, come with me."  
  
It was a rare treat indeed to sleep with Master in his chambers. He usually let Richie sleep with him if he had had a particularly bad day. Whenever the other children picked on him too much, or if he hurt himself, or if the other kids tricked him, then he got to sleep with Master. Never without a reason. But Richie was not going to question the unexpected treat. He followed Master into the huge sweet. He waited for permission, and when he got it crawled onto the foot of the king-sized bed. The bed was so big and soft. It reminded Richie of something, he could never remember what, but he dreamed about it sometimes. Master ordered the boy who took care of his chamber to get Richie a blanket then to go to bed themselves. Richie fell asleep comfortably at the foot of the bed, wrapped in a think blanket that smelled of something familiar and calming.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Their search for Richie had all but stopped. No one really expected to see him again. But the small piece of hope that still remained kept Duncan and Tessa at the antique store. They couldn't stand that if by some miracle Richie was alive he wouldn't be able to find them if they moved. So they stayed. When friends called, they usually asked about Richie out of habit. It had been seven years and Richie was legally dead so the police had stopped searching.  
  
"He'd be 25 today," Tessa said looking at the calendar.  
  
"Yes, he would," Duncan agreed putting his arms around her waist. "How do you want to celebrate this year?" Every year they celebrated Richie's birthday in one form or another. They would close the shop and do something that they thought Richie would like to do for his birthday.  
  
"Angie called this morning while you were jogging. I invited her and Gary to dinner." Angie and Gary had married three years earlier. Angie was now expecting. "I thought we could go to the pier. Richie loved eating on the pier."  
  
"Sounds like a good idea. I'll make reservations for four," Duncan said, picking up the phone.  
  
That night the four met up for dinner. Angie was just starting to show and Tessa fussed over the slight pouch in the young girl's stomach. An hour into the meal, the topic turned to the one thing they always wanted to talk about, but went out of their way to avoid: Richie.  
  
"You know, he may have been the runt of the litter, but he was the toughest one we had," Gary said fondly. "I remember in fifth grade we were getting picked on by a bunch of junior high kids. Richie threw the first punch. He got his butt kicked, but he wasn't scared."  
  
"I remember that," Angie smiled. "He got a black eye and two teeth knocked out. He bragged for weeks because he gave one of them a bloody nose."  
  
"I don't think he changed much," Tessa said with a slight laugh. "He was always getting into trouble. I can't count how many times I had to bandage a cut or stop a bleeding nose. He thought he was so tough. he was a klutz."  
  
"You have to give him points for trying," Duncan cut in. "He would do anything to help people who needed it."  
  
"And when he needed help the most, no one was there," Angie sniffed. "He must have been so scared."  
  
"Must have," Duncan agreed, looking down.  
  
"Oh, Duncan, I didn't mean it like that," Angie apologized quickly. "You did everything you could. It's not your fault the bastards got him."  
  
"I know," Duncan said, forcing a smile and putting his hand over her's. "It's just.I can still see his face when they had him in their car. He was so close and there was nothing I could do."  
  
"You tried," Gary said. "That's all anyone could do."  
  
"When did you two become the adults, huh?" Duncan asked.  
  
"We grew up."  
  
"I just wish Richie was still here," Angie said sadly.  
  
"We all do," Tessa agreed.  
  
Three hours later, Duncan and Tessa were getting into bed. Suddenly Tessa started giggling.  
  
"What?" Duncan asked.  
  
"Do you remember that bad storm and we ended up with no power in the middle of the night?"  
  
"You mean the one that had Richie scared out of his mind?"  
  
"He was so sure that the roof was going to cave in on him. And then the wind blew something through his window."  
  
"And we had to board it closed and he refused to sleep in there because he said it was unsafe."  
  
"So he went out to the living room. But there were too many windows so he snuck into the hall."  
  
Duncan smiled fondly. "And somehow he ended up at the foot of the bed. I don't remember how he got there, but I wasn't surprised when I woke up."  
  
"He looked so cute curled up under the blanket. He was so small then. He grew a lot those first months."  
  
"He did. He was actually starting to look his age."  
  
Tessa sniffed as the first tears of the day came. "Then he was taken. I miss him so much."  
  
"We all do," Duncan assured her, pulling her close.  
  
"He was just a baby!"  
  
"Don't you let him hear you say that. He was a man as far as he could tell."  
  
"I don't care what he thinks. He was just a baby. Nothing more than a child."  
  
"Where ever he is, Tess, I'm sure he's okay. Let's try to get some sleep."  
  
He turned off the bedside lamp and they huddled down under the covers to try to sleep. 


	7. CHAPTER SEVEN

Richie waited anxiously. Today they were coming. His favorite guests. He had been serving them for as long as he could remember. They had been his first guests years ago. They were the same couple that he had run into the day he had been bought and the day he had been let out of Time Out.  
  
Master smiled when he found Richie sitting by the door, staring out the window. "Are they here yet?" he asked with a smile.  
  
"Not yet. But I saw a plane. Maybe it was them."  
  
"Maybe. You just make sure you're not in anyone's way."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
Twenty minutes later, Richie saw a limousine pull up the driveway and stop at the front walk. George and Katherine Harris (two immortals Richie knew as Master George and Mistress Katherine) stepped out. With a huge smile Richie jumped to his feet and opened the door as soon as they made it to the porch.  
  
"Oh, my little man," Mistress Katherine smiled at him touching his cheek.  
  
"Hello, Mistress Katherine," Richie answered looking at his feet.  
  
"Oh, when did my little man get so shy?" she teased.  
  
"Take this," Master George said handing Richie a heavy bag. "Where is your master?"  
  
"I'm right here, Mr. Harris," Master said coming around the corner. He paused to give Mistress Katherine a peck on the cheek and to tell Richie to put the bag down on his way to greet Master George. "Mr. Harris, I don't know why you insist on giving him those heavy things every time you come here. He's too small."  
  
"Exactly, he needs more meat on him," Master George argued good-naturedly.  
  
"I can do it, Master," Richie piped up. "It's not too big for me."  
  
"Of course it is, don't be silly. Now," Master turned back to Master George. "I have all the arrangements made. Your usual room is prepared, your luggage is being brought in by a stronger boy, and your tea will be served on the terrace in an hour. Do you have any special requests for this visit?"  
  
"I would like to speak to you about making a purchase. I don't suppose we could discuss it over tea?"  
  
"Of course we can."  
  
"Can I come, too?" Richie asked, before realizing his preprogrammed mistake. He knew it was wrong to speak out of turn, much less to make a frivolous request, but somehow Master had slipped it into his programming to do it anyway.  
  
"Now, boy," Master said sternly looking at Richie. "What have I told you about speaking before spoken to?"  
  
Richie immediately let go of Mistress Katherine's hand and dropped to the floor and bowed. "I'm sorry, Master. I was bad."  
  
"Yes, you were. And what happens to bad boys?"  
  
"They're punished."  
  
"We'll discuss it later. Go to the Nursery."  
  
"Yes, Master." Richie started to get up.  
  
"Wait," Mistress Katherine stopped him gently. "There is no reason to punish him. I was going to insist he join us."  
  
"Very well, there will be no punishment. But I want a word with you, baby boy, so to the Nursery with you."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"And what do you say to Mrs. Harris?"  
  
"Thank you, Mistress Katherine," Richie added giving her hand a kiss before going to his room.  
  
Richie was kneeling by his bed when Master arrived. Master silently took a seat in the armchair that had been moved into the Nursery a year ago and Richie just as silently took his place at Master's feet with his head bowed.  
  
"Well?"  
  
"I was bad."  
  
"Yes, you were."  
  
"I'm sorry, Master."  
  
"You should be."  
  
"Am I going to be punished?"  
  
"No. But I want you to tell me what you did wrong."  
  
"I interrupted the grown-ups talking."  
  
"And are you supposed to do that?"  
  
"No, Master."  
  
"Unless?"  
  
"Unless it is very important and I can't find Mamma."  
  
"That's right. Now, you are too little to remember that all the time, but try to."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"Good. So are we clear?"  
  
"Yes, Mast. Master, may I ask a question?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why do I get to sleep in the Nursery and girl already went to be with the big kids?"  
  
"Because you are still a baby. Babies sleep in nurseries."  
  
"But she's not a baby any more and I was here before her."  
  
"Girls grow faster than boys."  
  
"How much faster?"  
  
"It depends on the boy. And you are different."  
  
"Different how?"  
  
"You're too little to understand."  
  
"When I'm bigger I will?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"When will I be bigger?"  
  
"You will know."  
  
"How?"  
  
"I will not let you become too big for your Nursery," Master promised.  
  
"Master?"  
  
"More questions?"  
  
"One."  
  
"Okay."  
  
"Why don't the big kids like me?"  
  
"Why do you think they don't like you?"  
  
"They're mean to me."  
  
"Have they been hurting you again?"  
  
"Yesterday they all came to the window and made fun of me because I can't go outside except for the terrace."  
  
"You know why you can't go out, don't you?"  
  
"Because I'm just a baby and I can get hurt or sick or lost."  
  
"That's right. The outside is very big and I don't want anything to happen to you."  
  
"I know, Master."  
  
"I'll tell you what, though. What do you say this weekend when Mr. and Mrs. Harris have left, we go for a walk when all the other children have to be inside?"  
  
Richie grinned. "Can we?"  
  
"Yes, and I'll have one of the children pack us a picnic."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Anything for my special baby boy." Richie smiled and Master kissed the top of his head. "I want you to play in here until it is time for tea. Someone will come get you."  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
Almost an hour later Mamma came to get Richie and take him to the terrace. Master George, Mistress Katherine, and Master all sat around a garden table drinking tea and going over various children that were for sale. Richie faltered for a second not sure whom he should go to. Usually he went straight to Master, but he was supposed to be serving his guests this week. Apparently he took too long to decide because Master ordered him to go to his mistress. Richie hurried and sat himself at her feet with a worried look on his face. That was the second time he had done something wrong that day.  
  
"It's okay," Mistress Katherine assured him. She smiled down at him and broke of a piece of her teacake and feeding it to him. "Are you hungry?" she asked him softly. "Does your master not feed you?"  
  
"Master feeds me," Richie told her just a quietly with a small grin. "But lunch was a long time ago. Before my nap."  
  
"Oh, and it's a long time until dinner, too," she agreed with him.  
  
The men continued to talk business while Mistress Katherine fed Richie little bits of cakes and ordered a house child to get him some milk. By the time the men had come to the agreement that the Harris' needed an immortal, not a mortal girl who could serve in the house, Richie was contentedly sitting with his head in Mistress Katherine's lap, basking in the warm sun, with his eyes closed. She absentmindedly played with his curls as she watched the children work in the garden.  
  
"Don't you agree dear?" Master George asked putting his hand on her arm. She had been lost in her thoughts and jumped at the contact, which in turn caused Richie to jump and spill the cup sitting in front of him sending the contents oozing over the polished marble. He froze and stared in horror as the milk spread across the terrace.  
  
"What is wrong with you today?" Master barked at him, jumping to his feet and storming over to him. Richie crouched on the ground and became as small as he could make himself. "That's three times in one day!"  
  
"I'm sorry, Master! Please forgive me!" Richie begged.  
  
"I don't know what I'm going to do with you!"  
  
"It was an accident. Please, forgive me!"  
  
"I will teach you not to be so clumsy. Go to the Nursery, right now!"  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"No!" Mistress Katherine cut in. "He was asleep. He had no control over what happened. I should have had the girl," she motioned to the girl who was cleaning the milk, "move the cup when I noticed he was asleep. Don't punish him. He's a baby!"  
  
"He is my baby," Mater reminded her. "And he must learn to be more careful."  
  
"I will speak with him. Please, do not punish him."  
  
"He is our boy for the week," Master George added. "It is our authority to punish him or not."  
  
"Very well. Boy, your guests have saved you this time. Next time you may not be so lucky. Be careful."  
  
"I will, Master," Richie promised.  
  
"Come with me my little man," Mistress Katherine urged him, offering her hand. "I'll take you where you can't make any mistakes." He looked up at her from his position on the ground. "Do you want to come to play with me while your master and Master George finish discussing business? We can bring in some toys." He nodded slightly and took her hand. They went into the room they had reserved and entertained each other.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Conner groaned. All he wanted was a cup of coffee and of all the coffee shops in all of New York City he picked the one with another immortal in it.  
  
"Conner MacLeod," he said stopping at the other immortal's table.  
  
"Fascinating."  
  
"And you are?"  
  
"None of your concern. I have no interest of being aware of your existence after this moment."  
  
"You sound confident."  
  
"I've been around."  
  
"Good for you."  
  
Conner went to order his coffee. When he opened his wallet to pay for his drink Richie's picture fell out. He had forgotten that he hadn't taken it out yet. No one had had any news for years and he had stopped asking. But something told him to take this as a sign and ask the man. What would it hurt?  
  
"Excuse me," he said stopping at the man's table again. "I'm looking for a boy."  
  
"Aren't we all?"  
  
"This boy," Conner clarified holding out the picture. "Have you seen him?"  
  
The man took the photo and looked at it. "Cute kid. Did he run away?"  
  
"He was kidnapped. He's like us, or could have been."  
  
"He's dead."  
  
"Thought I'd ask," Conner shrugged.  
  
"Unless."  
  
"Unless? Unless what?"  
  
"How long ago was it?"  
  
"Almost nine years. You saying he could be alive?"  
  
"If he is, you won't like what you find."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Duncan answered the phone. "MacLeod."  
  
"Duncan."  
  
"Conner?"  
  
"You won't believe this."  
  
"What?"  
  
"I have a lead."  
  
"For what?"  
  
"Richie."  
  
"What?! Where is he?"  
  
"It's a real stretch. He may be there or he may not. It's been a long time and they may have sold him or killed him."  
  
"Sold him? Where is he?"  
  
"He may be at a place called The Manor. It's a popular brothel on the black market."  
  
"Brothel?"  
  
"Yes. It's a popular spot to shop for teenagers. It's part of a slavery ring, Duncan. If Richie isn't there now, he probably was. I found a man who used to hunt for the owner. He has people all over the world who hunt down good looking teenagers and take them to The Manor. They brainwash the kids and train them to be slaves."  
  
"Slaves?"  
  
"I'm going to make some calls to the man's contacts and try to get in."  
  
"I'm going, too."  
  
"Duncan, he's probably not there. I'll probably just end up empty handed."  
  
"Conner, if he is there."  
  
"He's been brainwashed."  
  
"Even so, he'll respond to me before you."  
  
"Duncan, don't get your hopes up. It's probably nothing."  
  
"Then let me be there when we find out it's nothing."  
  
"Okay. I have to make some calls. If we want in, we have to get someone to let us in."  
  
"What?"  
  
"We have to be grandfathered in as it were. Get a current client to get us in."  
  
"Then make your calls."  
  
They hung up.  
  
It took Conner three days but finally he got in touch with a man named George Harris. He called Duncan and told him to be ready to leave in three weeks. It was the soonest they could get in. Conner told Duncan that Mr. Harris had reserved his favorite boy for them. Someone he called 'his little man.' 


	8. CHAPTER EIGHT

It took two weeks to convince Tessa to stay at home while Conner and Duncan went to investigate the Manor. Conner picked up Duncan two weeks after his run in with the man in the coffee shop.  
  
"Bring him home," Tessa whispered giving Duncan a hug.  
  
"If he's there, I will," he promised.  
  
Conner and Duncan drove one hundred and twenty miles out of town to a small private airport.  
  
"No wonder no one could find the kidnappers," Duncan mumbled. The airport was well hidden and way off the main roads.  
  
They met up with a scantily dressed young girl who unloaded their bags before parking Conner's SUV in a small hanger. They were led to a private jet by a boy in nothing but leather pants who a few minutes later was joined by the girl in the cockpit.  
  
"Okay, Duncan, there are some things we should go over," Conner said quietly as they were flying over who knows what because the windows were blocked so no one knew where the Manor was.  
  
"What? We find him; we get him out. What's there to go over?"  
  
"If we find him and we're in public, as it were, then you have to act like you don't know him. The less suspicion we draw, the safer it is for him."  
  
"Conner, what kind of danger would he be in that's worse than what's happening to him now?"  
  
"They may think he called us, which is probably against the rules. And he may have no idea who we are. Apparently, they do quite a number on these kids. We just have to play it cool and if we find him, pay to have him for a week. And if we can, how much to buy him. That will be the easiest way to get him back."  
  
"I'm not paying for Richie!" Duncan hissed.  
  
"You will if that's how you get him back."  
  
"Conner, if he's there. I don't know if I can play it cool."  
  
"You will when you have to," Conner assured him.  
  
"I didn't realize how hard this was going to be."  
  
"I told you I could go myself. When we land, I can have the pilot take you back."  
  
"I'm not leaving."  
  
"Then be ready to find the worst."  
  
The flight was seventeen hours long but neither man could sleep. When they landed, they were driven by limo to the hill top manor. Duncan tried to control the anger welling up inside of him as he watched naked teenagers working on the lawn and in the garden. They were greeted at the front door by the man who owned it all.  
  
"Welcome to The Manor," he greeted cheerfully.  
  
"I'm so glad we're finally here," Conner said in a thick Italian accent. "We have been trying to get here for years!"  
  
"I'm glad you're here, too," Master smiled. "Since it's such a wonderful day I thought we might talk over tea in the garden. Just to go over the formalities of business, of course and to select your child for your visit."  
  
"That sounds lovely."  
  
"I was hoping you would say that; I have had it all arranged. Just follow me."  
  
They were led out the back door into a large meticulously tended garden.  
  
"This is sick," Duncan hissed in Gaelic.  
  
"Shut up," Conner ordered.  
  
They sat down at the garden table and sipped at the tea their gracious host offered them.  
  
"Now, I suppose we should first go over the legal formalities," Master started taking the papers a girl, who was kneeling behind him, handed him. "These are just standard documents that say that should either party get caught by the authorities we will disavow all knowledge of each other. If I get caught, I don't mention names; if you get caught, you don't mention names."  
  
"What about the contract? It will have our signatures," Duncan pointed out mimicking Conner's accent.  
  
"I have a child under the orders to destroy the documents if any unauthorized crafts land on the island. That is why the location is undisclosed. Simple security measure."  
  
"Smart man," Conner commented signing the paper with an assumed name and handing it to Duncan to do the same. "So what about the children?"  
  
Master smiled. "Yes, the children. I believe you spoke to Mr. Harris and he made a recommendation for you?"  
  
"Yes, but we believe lack of talent can be made up if you have a certain look."  
  
"Tell me what you are looking for and I can arrange a line up for you to choose from."  
  
"Male, blonde hair, blue eyes, late teens."  
  
"Mortal or immortal?"  
  
"You have both?"  
  
"Of course. I do not offer immortal children to mortal guests, of course. Not for exclusive service or purchase, anyway. Besides, mortal children are much easier to sell. Men like us like them because there is a need for a new face every few years and mortals don't know any better."  
  
Duncan tuned out the conversation and scanned the grounds for a familiar face. He imagined Richie as a labor slave. He was small, but strong. He had impressed Duncan on more than one occasion with all he could physically handle. He could move objects much bigger and heavier than he was. He sometimes reminded Duncan of an ant. Small, strong, diligent, and set in his ways. Richie was nowhere to be seen. Duncan looked up at the large house. Then something caught his eye.  
  
Or someone, rather.  
  
A boy watching from the doorway. A very familiar looking boy. Even from that distance, Duncan could tell. There was no mistaking those blue eyes or that curly blonde hair. It was Richie.  
  
"Found someone who strikes your fancy?" Master asked drawing Duncan's attention back to the conversation.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"You seem to have found someone." He followed Duncan's gaze. A faint smile played on his lips. "Come here," he said softly gesturing to boy to him.  
  
The boy hesitated like a deer in headlights then made his way to the table as quickly as possible. He stopped a few feet away and crouched on the ground.  
  
"You have expensive tastes. This boy is at the top of the list. He's the most expensive one we have."  
  
Duncan's voice was caught in his throat, so Conner spoke up. "Well, let's have a look at him."  
  
"Get up, boy," Master ordered. Richie got to his feet.  
  
Duncan got a good look at him. He was the same shy boy who broke into the antique store all those years ago. He was thin and pale, yet still healthy looking. His head was bowed and hands clasped behind his back. Conner got up and approached him. He walked around him looking him up and down in a feigned appraisal.  
  
"I assume he has the talents we're looking for?"  
  
"Of course. This is actually the child Mr. Harris recommended for you," Master said.  
  
"Oh, what a coincidence. He's prefect. We'll take him."  
  
"Would you like to discuss pricing first? He is quite expensive."  
  
"I'm sure we can afford him. Let's sign the contract. We'd like him exclusively for the week."  
  
"Are you sure you don't want to look through the book first?"  
  
"We might as well. I think he's what we want, but we should make sure, don't you think?" he asked Duncan.  
  
"Sure."  
  
They all sat down again and Richie sat at Master's feet with his head on his knee. Master absentmindedly petted Richie's head as he talked with Duncan and Conner. Conner was doing a good job pretending to be interested in what Master had to say. Duncan was more interested in getting Richie away from his captor. He noticed the way Richie stared at the teacakes and how his eyes followed the ones that Master picked up to eat. He had the same hungry look in his eyes that he had when he had first moved into the loft. Finally Duncan couldn't take it any longer and picked up a cake and tried to coax Richie over to take it. Richie looked up at Master who gave him a nod. He seated himself between Conner and Duncan before accepting the treat, which he gobbled up instantly.  
  
"Looks like someone is hungry," Duncan whispered to Richie handing him another teacake. Richie took it and ate it. He also ate the three others that Duncan gave him.  
  
After pretending to look over the choices, Conner decided on Richie.  
  
"Before you make your final decision, I feel I must warn you that his service comes with a few strings. I have him trained as the baby of the Manor. It took a long time to get him to behave properly. His training was complicated and I find that as long as he follows a routine, he doesn't start to ask questions."  
  
"I'm sure it isn't anything we can't work around," Duncan said.  
  
"Every afternoon after lunch, he takes a nap for an hour and a half."  
  
"We can handle that," Conner said.  
  
"He still gets a little over zealous. Some people find it cute, like the Harris', but some people get annoyed by it."  
  
"We like a challenge," Conner assured him. "But if there are any problems, we can return him, right?"  
  
"Of course. Whatever makes the customers happy."  
  
"In that case, we'll take him."  
  
They signed the papers and Richie took them to their room. As soon as the door was closed, Duncan grabbed the boy and gave him a tight hug.  
  
"Oh, God, Richie I thought we had lost you for good. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?" He held him out at arms length and reached for the collar. "Let's get this off you." To his surprise, Richie took a step back. "Richie, what's wrong? Don't you want this off?"  
  
"It's mine," Richie said in a small, pathetic voice. "Master gave it to me."  
  
"Richie? You're not serious."  
  
Richie didn't answer. "Boy," Conner tried. "Do you like it here?"  
  
"Yes, sir," he answered promptly.  
  
"Your master is good to you?"  
  
"Master is very good to us. He is a very kind master."  
  
"Have you had many masters, boy?"  
  
"No. But I have served many people and Master is one of the nicest."  
  
"One of?" Duncan asked.  
  
Richie's face paled at his slip. "No, that's not what I meant," he retracted. "Master is the best master. I enjoy serving him."  
  
"You said one of."  
  
Richie dropped to his knees. "Please don't tell my master. I didn't mean it. I'm good boy, really I am. I love my master and I'm loyal to him. Don't tell him what I said, please, sir, don't tell him!" he begged.  
  
"Shh, shh, shh." Duncan knelt next to him and held him close. "I'm not going to tell him anything. You don't have to worry."  
  
Richie pulled away and bowed to Duncan the same as he bowed to Master. "Thank you. I didn't mean it. I messed up. Thank you for not telling him. I'll be good."  
  
"I know you will, Rich. You're okay. There's nothing to worry about. Look at me." Richie obeyed. "You don't have to bow or any of that while we're in here, okay?"  
  
"I don't?"  
  
"We're going to try something different," Conner told him. "Do you want to do this differently than everyone else?"  
  
"If you want me to."  
  
Conner forced a smiled. "Good. And right now I think it's time for you to take a nap."  
  
"Yes, sir." Richie got up and headed for the little bed in the corner.  
  
"How would you like to sleep in our bed?" Duncan stopped him.  
  
"The big bed?"  
  
"Yeah, how about it, tough guy?"  
  
"Are you going to take a nap, too?"  
  
"Not this time. It'll be just you."  
  
"All by myself?"  
  
"Just you."  
  
"I've never slept in a big bed by myself before," Richie looking at the bed in wonder.  
  
"Then you better get in and see how it feels." Richie got a big grin on his face as he crawled onto the bed and started to curl up at the foot.  
  
"No, up here, like a big boy," Conner prompted, patting the pillows.  
  
With an elated look, Richie got under the covers. Duncan tucked him in and smiled down at him. "You comfy?"  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"You go to sleep."  
  
Richie closed his eyes and was asleep in an instant.  
  
"Let's just buy him and get out of here," Duncan said turning to Conner.  
  
"It's not that easy. He's not for sale."  
  
"What? What sort of slavery ring doesn't sell the slaves?"  
  
"He's the only one not for sale. We could get any kid here."  
  
"How many of them do you think are actually kids?" Duncan asked. "Richie's nearly thirty years old. I can't believe he's actually here. We found him. And he has no idea who we are. He has no idea who he is. It's like this is the only life he knows."  
  
"I warned you, Duncan. I told you he probably wouldn't have any memory."  
  
"Conner, he was just a child. Someone, probably that sick man in the garden, robbed him of his childhood! He went from a stable life to hell!"  
  
"Duncan."  
  
"That boy used to turn bright red if I saw him in his boxers. Now he is completely naked except for those cuffs and a collar. A collar! They act as if he is a dog. He's gone. That is not the boy that left all those years ago."  
  
"I warned you. I told you. This is what you have to work with. You can always leave him here."  
  
"Leave him? Leave him! I'm not leaving him! Richie Ryan is somewhere in there and I'm going to find him."  
  
"Then you have to play along."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Play along. He's the slave; you're the master. He's going to serve us dinner, he's going to want to take care of everything he can for us and you have to let him. Something tells me that if he doesn't like us, he can get out of the contract just as easily as we can."  
  
"If he's the slave, he doesn't get a choice."  
  
"You weren't paying attention to the man who owns him."  
  
"No one owns him!"  
  
"That man is attached to Richie. He is his pride and joy. He would do anything for him. I bet Richie gets anything he wants."  
  
"Really?"  
  
"I saw the way he looked at Richie and the way he looked at the others. Richie's the favorite. I bet he gets whatever he wants, when he wants it."  
  
Despite the desperate aching in his heart, Duncan smiled a fraction. "Only Richie could become a spoiled slave." 


	9. CHAPTER NINE

Duncan groaned softly in his sleep at the warm, soft lips kissing his neck. His lips curled softly as the lips worked their way up his neck and stopped to nibble on his ear.  
  
"Oh, yeah," he mumbled contentedly rolling onto his back.  
  
The lips parted to make way for the tongue that played with his ear lobe for a few seconds. Then they started their migration again, blazing a trail across his cheek and to his lips where they were met with great excitement. The two pairs of lips touched lightly then gained force as time went on. A few more groans issued from Duncan's lips. He felt Tessa's body shift from next to him to over him. The kisses became stronger and more passionate, almost fierce. Two hands pinned his own to the bed. For a fleeting moment, Duncan mused how strong Tessa had gotten. But the stiff cock meeting with his own brought him back to a grim reality.  
  
His eyes snapped open and met with Richie's. The boy smiled at him obviously proud of his discovery. He was pleasuring his guest. He looked down at his discovery then looked back at Duncan's face. With a wicked grin he slowly moved down leaving a trail on Duncan's skin with his tongue. His lips were about to close around his prize when Duncan's shock wore off and he pushed the boy away. With a surprised squeak, Richie tumbled off the bed and onto the hard wood floor.  
  
Conner woke up at the commotion from his place on the couch. He and Duncan had flipped for the bed the night before. Richie had been confused, but not questioned the practice as he got into his own little bed in the corner.  
  
"What's wrong?" he asked, his accent coming out in his sleepy state.  
  
"I'm sorry!" Richie exclaimed crouching on the floor. "I thought you were liking it!"  
  
"Oh.um. I'm not mad," Duncan offered still a little shaken up by his awakening.  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"I won't do it again! Please don't tell my master!"  
  
"I'm not mad. I won't tell anybody."  
  
"Please forgive me, sir!"  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"You didn't do anything wrong."  
  
"Duncan, what did he do?" Conner demanded.  
  
"He was.he was kissing me," Duncan explained, getting on the floor and pulling Richie upright. "He didn't know."  
  
"I just wanted to play," Richie mumbled softly. "I thought you would play with me."  
  
"Play?" Duncan repeated. "You wanted to play?"  
  
"I wanted to surprise you and when I saw your pleasure I thought you liked it."  
  
"Your pleasure?" Conner looked at Duncan eyebrow's raised.  
  
"Like I had any control over that," he snapped. "I thought he was Tessa."  
  
"I'm sorry!" Richie repeated.  
  
"It's okay," Duncan repeated soothingly. "You didn't do anything wrong."  
  
"I made you mad."  
  
"You startled me. I'm not mad. Let's just all go back to bed."  
  
Richie nodded in compliance and did as he was told.  
  
"Now what?" Duncan asked Conner.  
  
"Are you willing to let him get it out of his system?"  
  
"He doesn't want to; he thinks he wants to."  
  
"He's convinced he wants to."  
  
"How do we calm him down?"  
  
"We can order a girl for him."  
  
"We are not going to take advantage their situation!" Duncan insisted.  
  
"Then let him handle it himself."  
  
"You mean let him. I'm not."  
  
"If we can't do anything with him and you won't let a girl help him. Let him help himself."  
  
"I'm not going to have him masturbating in the corner while you and I play chess."  
  
"We have to keep him happy," Conner told him. "In some sort of normal routine so he doesn't decide he doesn't like us."  
  
"Asking him to do that is not normal."  
  
"It is as far as he knows. Duncan, that's not Richie. He looks like him, he sounds like him, but that's not him. That is a. a." he searched for a word. "A geisha. He is trained to have one thing on his mind. He has to act out on it or he's going to start talking. We have to keep up appearances and seem just like everyone else."  
  
"Conner, I can't do that."  
  
"Then you shouldn't have come."  
  
"I couldn't stay home! Not knowing he was here!"  
  
"I told you this was going to be hard. I told you wouldn't like what you found. I told you, but you insisted on coming."  
  
"Are you telling me that if it was just you, you'd rape him?" Duncan demanded.  
  
"No, but I'd find a way for him to be comfortable."  
  
"Conner, I.. I. I can't. I can't look at him and send him to masturbate in the bathroom!"  
  
"We're going to have to find something for him to do."  
  
"I can't right now. Let's go back to bed and talk about it in the morning."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie woke both Conner and Duncan the next morning with a gentle shake and presented them with room service breakfast. After they sat at the table, he knelt next to it only getting up to pour more coffee or juice. Duncan gave him a piece of toast and some bacon. When they were done, Richie took the rolling table to a girl waiting in the hall. He closed the door and knelt beside it.  
  
"Well, time to get ready for the day," Duncan decided. "I'm taking a shower." Richie got up to follow him into the bathroom and help. "Whoa, boy, you stay out here," he told him taking Richie by the shoulders and planting him in the bedroom.  
  
Richie looked like Duncan had slapped him. "You don't want me to help?"  
  
"I want to do this by myself. I have a book in my bag. You can read that while we get ready."  
  
"I don't know how to read," Richie told him.  
  
"Then why don't you play for a while," he offered.  
  
"Yes, sir." Richie moved off to his corner to obey.  
  
Conner caught Duncan's eye and grinned as the younger man went into the bathroom.  
  
Once they were ready, Richie took them downstairs to the main parlors for the morning's entertainment. He tried to coax them into a parlor where a large bed was surrounded with chairs where two children were going to perform for the guests. The next room had plenty of chains, whips and leather. Richie called it the bonding room. The next room had a girl dancing who was none too shy.  
  
"What else is there to do?" Duncan asked him closing the door to the dancing room.  
  
"We have a pool and a sauna," Richie offered. It was obvious he was worried about not being able to find something to please his guests.  
  
"The sauna sounds nice," Conner decided.  
  
Richie showed them to a private room where he brought them towels. He knelt quietly waiting for them to change. Duncan took Conner's lead, took of his clothes and handed them to Richie to fold and lock away. Once they were ready, he led them into a private sauna. He closed the door and positioned himself by the coals to create more steam when needed.  
  
Duncan sat on the bench. "We have to come up with a plan."  
  
Conner stretched out, stomach down on another bench with a groan. "I know. Let's take him tonight. I can't stand another night on that couch. I haven't been so stiff in a hundred years."  
  
Richie took this as an indirect cue and moved straight to Conner. He straddled his back and started giving him a deep tissue massage.  
  
"Conner! Make him stop," Duncan complained.  
  
"He needs to feel useful."  
  
"You're using him."  
  
"Why don't you go play?" Conner reminded him.  
  
"He was going to follow me into the shower!"  
  
"I told you, we have to let him feel natural."  
  
"We don't have to take advantage of him."  
  
"Up," Conner told Richie. Richie moved his hands up. "He is a slave, we are his masters, we tell him what to do and he does it. This is how it will work until we leave. Then you can coddle him all you want."  
  
"Conner, I can't stand to see him like this."  
  
"Then we bust him out tonight."  
  
"How?"  
  
"We steal a plane."  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's the only way off this island. No outside transportation is allowed. We can't buy him, we have to steal him."  
  
"Should we be talking about this in front of him?" Duncan suddenly asked.  
  
"Ask him what we just said," Conner told him.  
  
"Rich. um, boy, what did we just say?" Duncan asked.  
  
Richie looked up from the knot he was kneading out of Conner's back. "Excuse me, sir?"  
  
"What are we talking about, be truthful."  
  
"Children do not listen to adult conversations. I don't know what you said. I'm sorry. Do you want me to.?"  
  
"No, you're fine," Duncan hurried to assure him.  
  
An hour later, they had devised their plan right in front of their oblivious target. When they told him they were ready, he showed them to the showers, got them fresh towels and then retrieved their clothes.  
  
"What do my masters wish to do now?" Richie asked after returning from putting the dirty towels in the laundry.  
  
"Why don't you show us your room?" Conner asked.  
  
"My room?"  
  
"Where you sleep when you aren't serving."  
  
"My nursery?"  
  
"Um, yes."  
  
A bright smile lit on Richie's face. "Okay!" He stated to leave the room then stopped. No child was supposed to walk in front of his master. He stopped and looked at them.  
  
"You go first," Conner told him.  
  
"Me, sir?"  
  
"Yes, boy, you go first."  
  
Obviously confused, Richie obeyed. He took them down a maze of hallways and down a staircase. They were met halfway down by a shot, older woman.  
  
"What is boy doing?" she asked putting a gentle hand on Richie's cheek.  
  
"My masters want to see my nursery."  
  
She smiled warmly at him. "Boy must be sure not to make a mess. Mama has just cleaned his nursery."  
  
"Yes, Mama," he answered. She moved to the side to make room for the men to pass.  
  
They walked down another hall and stopped at a large, solid, oak door. Richie opened it and held it for Duncan and Conner.  
  
"Masters must be sure not to close the door, or we can't get out." He showed them the smooth, polished, oak where there should be a door handle.  
  
"Do they lock you in here?" Duncan asked.  
  
"Only when I'm not supposed to leave."  
  
"He's a slave," Conner hissed at Duncan's shocked look. "Are these your toys?" Conner asked Richie looking at a toy box in the corner.  
  
"Yes," he answered excitedly. "Do you want to play?"  
  
Duncan and Conner exchanged a look. To Richie 'play' was something completely unacceptable.  
  
"Let's just see what you have in here." He opened the white and baby blue box then scooted aside so Duncan could look as well. It was a jumble of leather restraints, nipple clamps, dildos, whips, chains, and many things Duncan and Conner couldn't identify.  
  
Richie jumped into explanations. "This goes in your mouth," he said holding up a ball gag. "But I don't like it because it tastes funny. But I'll use it if you want me to." He pulled out a flogger. "This is like a whip. You can hit me with it and I'll bleed, but then it goes away. like magic."  
  
"What's this?" Conner asked holding up a series of leather cuffs, chains, and buckles.  
  
"It makes me like this." Richie crossed his arms over his stomach like he was a straight jacket. "And I can't move my arms."  
  
"Oh, what a nice little contraption. We'll need this." He set it aside.  
  
Richie's eyes lit up. "Are we going to play?"  
  
"Not now, tonight, really late when everyone is asleep so we can do whatever we want," Conner whispered as if it were a big secret, which it was, but not for the reason's Richie was now imagining. "Let's see what else you have."  
  
They left the room with the leather straight jacket, a blindfold, a ball gag, and some leather laces just in case they needed to restrain him further. They left the ball spreader, cock ring and vibrators that Richie seemed to have several of.  
  
After lunch, they took Richie to their room to take his nap. While he was asleep, they discussed their plan to kidnap him.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"I hope that we are living up to your expectations," Master told Conner that evening at dinner as the servant children laid the meal out before them.  
  
"You have a lovely establishment," Conner answered almost forgetting to use his Italian accent.  
  
"And boy is serving you well?"  
  
"Yes, he is a hard worker. We have been nothing but pleased with his performance," Duncan answered suddenly finding his voice.  
  
"So you have sampled his talents?"  
  
"A few."  
  
"He's a good boy."  
  
Richie put Duncan's napkin in his lap and knelt between him and Conner. The topic of conversation turned to what Master's children did best. Conner and Duncan did their best to play along while Richie did his best to keep up with their drinks and food. Refilling what needed to be refilled and fetching seconds for what they ran out of. Finally, Duncan got sick of watching Richie run around and had him sit next to him so he could give him a roll and other scraps off the table.  
  
"If you don't mind me asking," Duncan asked suddenly. "Why did you choose this particular boy to be your baby?"  
  
Master smiled. "It's quite simple really. It took over a year to break him."  
  
"A year?"  
  
"He has spirit. A spirit that is perfect for what I need. in moderation. The older a child gets the more freedom they have to move around, think, act. I had to keep him young, because he is the one that will ruin me if I give him the chance."  
  
"Why do you say that?" Conner asked.  
  
"He already asks too many questions. If I treated him like I do the other children he'd lead a mutiany. I know he would. That's why," he grinned down at Richie, who just seemed to notice anyone was talking about him. "You are my special baby boy."  
  
Richie's chest puffed proudly and he grinned back.  
  
'I knew it,' Duncan thought to himself. 'Richie's still in there.'  
  
After dessert, Conner, Duncan, and Richie went back to their room. Richie knelt by the bed and waited for further instructions.  
  
Duncan tried to distract himself with a book until they were ready to get ready to leave. He forced himself to read page after page as he lounged on the bed. He was actually starting to get into the book when he felt Richie crawl up next to him. He looked up and Richie grinned at him.  
  
"What are you up to?" he asked the boy.  
  
"I wanted to do something for you."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Anything you want me to." He slid next to Duncan and put his head on his shoulder.  
  
"Do you want to hear a story?"  
  
"I like stories."  
  
"Okay, this one is about a boy." Duncan put his book down. "He lived in a big city by the ocean with two very good friends. They were all very close."  
  
"Did they play together?"  
  
"No. But they had a business together. And they lived together. They were very close. The boy was very young and he relied on his friends, a man and woman. And his friends liked to take care of him."  
  
"Was he a baby?"  
  
"No, he was a teenager. He was still young, though and need to be taken care of sometimes. though he didn't like to admit it."  
  
"Was he bad?"  
  
"No. He was a very good boy, he made some mistakes, but he was good. One day he went out with a girl." Richie smiled. "But he never came home." Richie's smiled faded. "He disappeared and his friends didn't know where he was. They couldn't find him no matter how hard they looked."  
  
Richie scooted away. "I don't like this story."  
  
"They looked very hard; they asked everyone they knew. No one could find him. Not for a very very long time. Then one day, a friend of the man met someone who had an idea. The man and his friend traveled a long time. And they found the boy."  
  
"Please, sir, don't tell anymore."  
  
"They boy was being held against his will by an evil man. This evil man liked to take advantage of the boy and make him do things that the boy didn't want to do."  
  
"Master, please stop," Richie pleaded.  
  
"But the boy didn't know any better so he did as he was told. And he was still a good boy. But the man was so happy to see him again there was no way he could leave him again. So he had to do something drastic. The boy didn't understand. But somewhere deep down, he knew it was going to be okay."  
  
"I don't like that story."  
  
"Just remember it."  
  
"Duncan," Conner spoke up from the couch. "You're scaring him."  
  
"I'm just explaining it to him."  
  
"He doesn't understand."  
  
"Then why does he hate it so much?"  
  
"Just stop. He'll understand once we're done."  
  
"How much longer do we have to wait?" Duncan asked looking at the clock. It was almost midnight.  
  
"A few more hours and we can start getting him ready. For now make sure that we won't leave anything that can identify us behind."  
  
"What are you going to do?"  
  
"Arrange transportation. I'll be back to help get the kid ready."  
  
Two hours later, Conner came back. Richie, after being told it was time to play, happily talked them through putting him in the straight jacket made of leather cuffs, straps, and buckles. It took them nearly half an hour to get him secured.  
  
"Now what?" he asked.  
  
"Now we blindfold you and take you somewhere very special." Conner tied the black leather over Richie's eyes, Duncan picked up the one bag they were taking back and they went into the hall. They carefully lead Richie to the stairs. They guided him down and passed another slave who didn't look at them twice as they passed.  
  
Richie quietly went where they took him. Until his bare feet hit the cool marble of the veranda.  
  
"I'm not allowed," he said suddenly locking his legs.  
  
"It's okay, your master will never find out," Duncan said handing Conner the bag and putting his hands on Richie's shoulders. "I promise you will not get in trouble."  
  
"No, I'm not allowed. Take me back in." He turned in what direction he thought the door was.  
  
"No, you're coming with us."  
  
"I'm not allowed to leave."  
  
"You are now."  
  
Richie panicked and tried to run, but ran into Duncan. "Leave me alone. I'll scream." For the first time he struggled against the jacket. Unfortunately, he had talked them trough it too well and there was no give.  
  
"No, you won't, boy," Conner hissed.  
  
"I will," he threatened. "I'm not allowed to leave."  
  
"You will keep your mouth shut," Conner told him with authority.  
  
Richie paused. "If you take me back, I won't tell," he bargained.  
  
"You are coming with us." He took the ball gag out of the bag and started to fit it in Richie's mouth.  
  
"What are you doing?" Duncan demanded.  
  
"Keeping him quiet."  
  
"Not with that thing, you're not."  
  
"It's all we have. Let's go."  
  
With a sigh of defeat, Duncan wrapped one arm around Richie's ribs to get a good hold on him and one hand over the gag, to hide any sound that may get through. He followed Conner half carrying/ half dragging a kicking and screaming Richie with him.  
  
"Richie, be quiet," he hissed.  
  
Conner led them to the hanger where a plane waited for them unattended, gassed up and ready to go.  
  
"How did you do this?" Duncan asked as Conner helped him carry a still struggling Richie on board.  
  
"A magician never tells. Get him strapped in. I'm driving." 


	10. CHAPTER 10

Duncan got Richie seatbelted in and had just sat down himself when the engines started up. Richie, who had calmed down for a minute, started up again; this time fighting so hard Duncan was pretty sure he heard the boy's arm break somewhere.  
  
"Conner, he's hurting himself!" he called through the open cockpit door.  
  
"Just keep him quiet until I get this thing off the ground!"  
  
"It's okay, Rich," Duncan said soothingly putting his arm around Richie's shoulders. "You can calm down; no one's going to hurt you." He hugged him awkwardly as they taxied. "You're safe now. And if you keep quiet we can untie you." To his mild surprise, Richie did indeed calm down and rested in Duncan's arms. Until they started their take off. Then he started screaming and struggling again.  
  
Duncan reached up and took off Richie's blindfold. He blinked a few times to get used to the sudden light.  
  
"You're okay. See? We're going home," Duncan told him.  
  
Richie's eyes wildly scanned his surroundings. Where was he? What was he doing here? Master was going to be furious when he found out he had left the Manor. Not only had he gone outside, but he was leaving. His eyes rested on Duncan who was watching him closely.  
  
"Are you okay?" Duncan asked him. Richie didn't answer. "I can't stand looking at this thing," he mumbled removing the ball gag.  
  
"Take me back," Richie whispered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Take me back, please," he said a little louder.  
  
"I'm taking you home."  
  
"Take me back."  
  
"You're going to be okay."  
  
"Take me back," he demanded loudly.  
  
"Richie, keep your voice down."  
  
"Take me back!"  
  
"Duncan!" Conner called from the cockpit. "Keep him quiet! I haven't flown a plane in a long time."  
  
"Richie, I know you're scared."  
  
"TAKE ME BACK!"  
  
"But you need to stay quiet."  
  
"I WANT MAMMA!"  
  
"Duncan!"  
  
"Richie, please."  
  
"I WANT MY MASTER!"  
  
"Will you shut him up?!"  
  
"Richie, don't make me do this," Duncan pleaded pulling his handkerchief out of his pocket. "Just be quiet."  
  
"I WA-MMMM!" Duncan clamped his hand over Richie's mouth.  
  
"One more chance. Will you keep your voice down?" Richie screamed into his hand. "Richie.." He kept yelling and started to struggle again.  
  
"Duncan, just do it!"  
  
"I can't!"  
  
"Oh for cryin' out. you come and take the wheel, I'll take care of the child."  
  
Duncan took his hand from Richie's mouth. "Don't you dare hurt him," he said going into the cockpit.  
  
"I won't." Conner promised over Richie's demands to go home. He went into the back of the plane and stood over the yelling boy. He took out his own handkerchief and quickly gagged the boy with both and blindfolded him again.  
  
"What did you do?" Duncan asked.  
  
"Nothing. Just shut him up. I always thought there was nothing worse than being stuck on a plane with a screaming baby behind you."  
  
"And?" Duncan asked, not sure where this was going.  
  
"I was wrong."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Every time the phone rang, Tessa jumped to answer it. After enough let downs, she calmed down. But when the phone rang in the middle of the night, she jumped to answer.  
  
"Hello?"  
  
"Tessa, we found him."  
  
She broke down in tears. "Is he okay?"  
  
"In a manner of speaking."  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"Look, can you just open the door to your workshop? We need to park in there."  
  
"What's going on?"  
  
"We're just down the street. Just open the doors."  
  
She didn't even stop to put on her robe. She ran down the stairs and opened the big gate like doors to her workshop. A few seconds later, Conner drove his SUV in. He got out and helped her close the doors again.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" Tessa demanded.  
  
"He's a little out of it."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"Don't expect your happy reunion yet."  
  
"Conner, can you help me?" Duncan grunted trying to pull Richie out of the back seat. They had taken off the blindfold again and had kept the replacements for the ball gag. They wrestled him into a pair of sweat pants, but he was fighting so hard they didn't want to try to get him out of the jacket. "You get the right; I'll get the left." They both reached in and grabbed an ankle. Tessa couldn't see what was going on through the dark tinted glass. She could see as Duncan and Conner grabbed a hold of something and as they started pulling, heard muffled screams that came from the car.  
  
"What are you doing.?" Tessa's demand faded away as she caught site of the struggling boy. "You're frightening him!" She pushed the men away. "No wonder he's being so difficult. You have him all tied up." She stepped closer and Richie scooted his way to the other side of the bench seat. "It's okay, Richie, I'm not going to hurt you." She got in next to him. She reached for the gag and he pulled away. "I just want to take it off, now sit still." He let her untie the handkerchief. "Are you okay?"  
  
"I wanna go home," he whispered.  
  
"You are home," she told him gently.  
  
"No. My place is with my master," he insisted. "They stole me."  
  
Tessa paused, "I know you're scared and confused. I am, too."  
  
"Did they take you from your master?"  
  
"No. I understand what it's like to be in a new place."  
  
"I don't wanna be in a new place; I wanna go home. Make them take me home."  
  
"Well, you can't go home today; it's night time. You should be in bed," She told him casting Duncan and Conner a slightly confused glance. 'Long story,' Duncan mouthed to her.  
  
"Do I have to stay?"  
  
"Yes. You'll understand why soon. Now, I know you don't want to sleep in this car all tied up. Will you let them help you out and we can untie you and I'll take you to your room."  
  
Richie looked away, not in defiance, but to think. "Okay," he finally answered. "But I want to go home tomorrow."  
  
"We'll see." She got out. "Be gentle, let me do the talking." She turned to the frightened boy in the car. "You have to come closer, we can't reach."  
  
"We can just go."  
  
"We can't reach him," she repeated firmly over Duncan's suggestion. "Come on, Richie; come closer so we can help you out." Richie struggled over towards them. Tessa reached in and gently helped him out. "Duncan and Conner will get you out of this."  
  
"Okay, stand still," Duncan said gently as he and Conner set to work on the buckles and straps. Finally he was free. Once out of the jacket, he stepped away from the men and closer to Tessa.  
  
"Do you want something to eat?" she offered. "Drink maybe?"  
  
"I want to go home. Master will be looking for me."  
  
"I already told you it's too late to travel. If you aren't hungry or thirsty, it's time for bed. Are you tired?" He nodded slowly. "Then I will show you to your room." She took him back to his old room, reverently wishing they had never gotten rid of all his things. She settled him into bed and quietly closed the door. As soon as she was in the hall, her resolve left her and she broke down in strong sobs.  
  
"Tess." Duncan opened his arms and she hugged him for dear life.  
  
"What happened to him?" she sobbed. "Why is he scared of us?"  
  
"Because he's confused. We'll fix it. He'll be back to his old self. It's going to take some time. But I won't give up on him."  
  
"What happened?"  
  
"He was brainwashed," Conner told her. "Forced into slavery. He has no idea who he is, much less who we are."  
  
"Oh, Duncan." She turned to the comfort of her lover's arms.  
  
"Tess, we'll help him."  
  
"What did they do to him?" she asked suddenly.  
  
"They brainwashed."  
  
"No. What did they make him do?"  
  
"Tessa," Conner spoke up. "It's nothing to be said in mixed company."  
  
"Don't tiptoe around me because I'm a woman, Conner MacLeod!" she yelled. "I have a right to know! I care about him just as much as anyone else! I want to know what he went through!"  
  
Duncan took a deep breath. "Imagine the worst," he told her. "That's what happened."  
  
"They beat him?" she asked. He nodded. "Did they rape him?"  
  
"That's all he was there for," Conner admitted. "He even put the moves on Duncan," he added, trying to lighten the mood. Instead of laughing, Tessa let out a loud sob.  
  
"I'm sorry, Tess," Duncan said taking her in his arms again. "We got him out of there as soon as we could."  
  
"He was just a baby!"  
  
"Don't call him that," Duncan told her.  
  
"Why not? He was!"  
  
"That's what that man called him. He was sick, twisted and mentally ill. It was all I could do not to take his head right there."  
  
"Why didn't you?" Tessa almost accused.  
  
"Because it wouldn't have helped. We know where the island is now; we can go back and take care of it."  
  
"Why don't you call to police, FBI, CIA."  
  
"Because half of the slaves are immortal. When they get freed, they need someone to teach them and look after them."  
  
"How many were there?" she asked softly. She had never thought about other slaves.  
  
"Over one hundred, easily."  
  
"Duncan, those messages we got from. from, from the families who lost children who never came home. How many of families lost their children to that man?"  
  
"We'll never know."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
The next morning, Richie was awake, undressed and kneeling by the door when Duncan came out to make some coffee.  
  
"Morning, Richie."  
  
Richie watched him with anxious eyes as he moved around the kitchen and even dared to follow him down the hall and stand outside their bedroom as Duncan and Tessa got dressed.  
  
"Good morning, Richie," Tessa greeted him when she ran into him in the hall. "Did you sleep well?" He nodded slightly. "Are you ready for breakfast?" she asked, careful not to look down.  
  
He followed her into the kitchen and knelt by the door as she prepared the oatmeal. As she was dishing it out into bowls, she looked over at him. "If you want to eat, you have to get dressed," she told him. "At least put your pants back on."  
  
"Master says that children should not be shy about their bodies," Richie answered, jutting out his chin defiantly.  
  
"You are not a child. You need to be dressed."  
  
"I am a child," he insisted. "I'm Master's baby boy. Ask him." He pointed to Duncan who had just walked into the kitchen. "He knows."  
  
"Duncan, Richie needs to be dressed, don't you agree?"  
  
"I do. Come with me, Richie. We'll get you dressed."  
  
"Master says."  
  
"Richie, you don't have to worry about what he says. You're not going back," Duncan told him sternly. "You're home now."  
  
"A child's place is with his master," Richie told him.  
  
"You're not a child and you're not going back. You're staying here."  
  
"Master will come for me and he'll kill you!" Richie threatened.  
  
"But you don't want to go back there."  
  
"I'm loyal to my master."  
  
"You are. But you don't have to be anymore. You're going to stay here."  
  
"I don't want to stay here! I want to go home!"  
  
"You're staying here, Richie. You used to live here and you're going to live here again," Duncan told him as gently as he could. "You liked it here."  
  
"I don't remember it here."  
  
"You will. You just have to give it time," Tessa told him. "Just give us a chance."  
  
Richie looked away from her pleading eyes and focused on the floor. "I don't feel good," he mumbled after a minute.  
  
"Then maybe you should go back to bed." Duncan offered him a hand up, which Richie refused.  
  
"No miraculous recovery?" Conner asked, looking back at Duncan and Richie who he had passed on his way from the guestroom to the kitchen.  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"It means I think you are expecting too much from the boy, that's all."  
  
"If you're so against this why did you help bring him home?"  
  
"Because I'd rather see that boy dead than living for centuries as a slave."  
  
Tessa stalked to where Conner stood and glared at him hard. "If you lay one hand on that boy, I will take your head myself," she threatened.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
The next day, Richie flat out refused to leave his bed, much less the room. He just laid there under the covers, staring at the wall, just shaking his head whenever anyone spoke to him. The news he was not returning to his master's house seemed to have sent him into a depression.  
  
"Are you hungry, Richie?" Tessa asked him late afternoon. He hadn't eaten for almost two days. He shook his head. "You must be hungry. I can make you some macaroni and cheese, I know it's your favorite," she offered. He shifted to look at her. "Ah ha! You are hungry. I knew you would be. You were always hungry."  
  
"Do I have to go out there to eat it?" he asked quietly.  
  
She smiled at him. "No. You can eat here. But can I sit with you?" He looked away and shrugged. "I'll take that as a yes unless you tell me no." He shrugged again. "Alright. I'll make you some supper and bring it in here."  
  
Half an hour later, she came in carrying a tray with a large bowl of the pasta and a tall glass of milk. She waited from him to sit up and put the tray on his lap. "Be careful it's hot," she warned.  
  
Richie regarded her very seriously before folding his hands and bowing his head. "Holy Master," he started. "Thank you for the food. Bless my master, bless my brothers, bless my sisters, bless Mamma, and help me to be a good boy," he recited. "And help me to go home," he added. "Amen." He looked up at her. She took a deep breath and looked back.  
  
"Go ahead. Eat."  
  
"Aren't you going to feed it to me?" he asked expectantly.  
  
She paused. She really wanted to cave in a do it for him. All he had to do was ask and she'd do anything for him. "You aren't a baby, you can do it yourself," she finally told him.  
  
"Mamma always fed me."  
  
"I'm not Mamma; I'm Tessa." He stared at her for a few seconds. "It's getting cold." He looked at her for a bit more and just when she was expecting him to refuse to eat, he picked up the spoon. She sat next to him and talked about little pointless things as he ate. She was just happy to see him and hear him mumble a few words every now and then. When he was done, he looked from her to the tray as if he were not quite sure what to do with it. "Do you want more?" she asked picking up the tray.  
  
"No, ma'am."  
  
"You can call me Tessa. You've always called me Tessa."  
  
Richie sat up a little straighter. "I've never met you before," he told her matter of factly.  
  
Tears threatened Tessa's eyes. "I have work to do." She turned and left.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"I'm not going to do that, Conner," Duncan insisted.  
  
"He may be too far gone."  
  
"That's no reason to kill him. It's not even been a week. He has to get used to us, then we can work on figuring this out."  
  
"Is that what that Burns fellow told you?"  
  
"Sean Burns is a good and trusted friend. He's been practicing psychology for hundreds of years. Just because you think this is a waste of time, doesn't mean it is."  
  
"No need to get testy. I just want to make sure you don't waste your whole life looking for a boy that isn't coming back," Conner said gently.  
  
"His body is here. That's the first step. All we have to do is keep reminding him of his past."  
  
"And what if it doesn't work?"  
  
"Then Sean will come early."  
  
"Early? So he's already coming?"  
  
"If...when, WHEN Richie remembers, he'll probably need someone to talk to and work things out with, someone he's not close to. That's when Sean was planning on coming. And by that time, if he hasn't snapped out of it, Sean can hypnotize him."  
  
"And if none of this works?"  
  
"It will. I didn't get this far just to lose him again," Duncan grimly stated, giving no room for Conner to argue. 


	11. CHAPTER 11

"Richie, hand me the can opener," Tessa said as she got a can of soup out of the cupboard, not realizing it was an 'order' until after she had said it. She and Duncan had never noticed how much they used to 'order' Richie around until they were consciously trying not to.  
  
"Yes, ma'am," Richie answered, moving to get it out of the drawer.  
  
Tessa sighed at his response. It had been a week and there had been only one change. He was no longer a sulky, quiet recluse. He was now an obedient, quiet servant. They had been making it a point to address him by his name and phrase their requests as questions and not demands. But he wasn't responding to it they way they had hoped. Since they weren't making any real progress, Sean was on his way. Duncan had gone to the airport to pick him up. Conner had stayed behind in case an immortal on the hunt came by and sensed Richie's presence, but since Tessa was angry at him for supporting the idea of killing Richie, he was staying out of the way.  
  
After lunch was done and the dishes put away Tessa sat down with Richie for a 'reading lesson'. The boy had been convinced he couldn't read, so Sean suggested they get him reading by using his favorite books. Tessa was pushing Richie through Lord of the Rings. He stumbled over the easy words and slowly fumbled his way through, even though it was obvious he knew what he was doing. Half an hour and two pages later Conner came out of hiding when he felt a buzz that Richie didn't react to at all.  
  
"They're here."  
  
A minute later, Duncan and Sean came up the back stairs. Duncan looked at Tessa who shook her head. A silent conversation; there was no change. A conversation that Sean did not miss.  
  
"Shall we get started?" he asked.  
  
"Don't you want to get settled?" Tessa offered.  
  
"A glass of water would be lovely, but he is what I am here for." He moved to sit next to Richie on the couch. Tessa went for the water.  
  
"We really do appreciate this, Sean. We don't know how to get through to him," Duncan said.  
  
"It's not a problem. Why don't we go over the situation and make sure I've got this right."  
  
Tessa came back with drinks for everyone and they sat to talk.  
  
"This is where you were living when he was kidnapped and he is in his own room?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Have you changed anything?"  
  
"We don't have his things," Tessa said. "We buried it all when we didn't have a body."  
  
"Okay. Do you remember his favorite music groups or movies?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"We may need them. Now," he paused and looked at the boy next to him. "He has no idea?"  
  
"He's totally oblivious. He has started answering to his name," Duncan answered. "But I think it's more because he knows that's what we call him, than that he thinks it's his name."  
  
Sean nodded. "Alright. What are his habits?"  
  
"Habits?"  
  
"What does he do? How does he act?"  
  
"He just does whatever you tell him to. He doesn't listen to conversations, unless you address him directly," Tessa said, looking at the boy who was concentrating on something in the air. "He can go to sleep on demand, and then sleeps until you wake him up; he still doesn't understand why we want him to sit at the table."  
  
"His body is the only thing here," Conner cut in. "His mind is gone."  
  
"Oh, yes, let's all listen to what Dr. Conner has to say," Tessa mumbled.  
  
"His mind is not gone," Sean said. "It sounds like he has simply detached himself from his reality. It's actually a common happening. Many times people will retreat to an imaginary world to get away from their reality. Usually it is only on a temporary basis, during a traumatizing moment, but they get completely immersed in it. It is my guess that Richie has done this. And because of the extreme situation he may have settled into an alternate, more comfortable, reality he has created for himself."  
  
"So you can bring him back?" Tessa asked anxiously.  
  
"He'll never be the same," Sean warned them. "But, I believe I can at least coax him back into this reality."  
  
"How do you do that?" Duncan asked.  
  
"I was going to try just talking to him, but if this is as bad as you say it is, hypnosis."  
  
"Swinging a pocket watch will fix this?" Conner asked.  
  
Sean smiled. "Those methods are a bit outdated. I could still try, but it's easier to just give the patient a shot."  
  
"You can just drug him?" Tessa asked.  
  
"It's not a permanent fix. He's not going to have pills that he can take daily. It's just an injection to relax him and put him into a light sleep. I won't keep him under for long today. Just enough to get him to admit to who he is and get him to where he trusts me. Tomorrow, I'll keep him under longer, use repetition and simple questions to make him aware of his situation. And in a few days he may be back, or it may take a few weeks. It depends on how much he trusts me and how receptive he is."  
  
"What if it doesn't work?" Conner asked.  
  
"If I can just get him to tell me his name, it's worked. I can probably get that out of him in less than twenty minutes. After that it's up to him. All I can do is talk to him."  
  
"When can you start?" Tessa asked.  
  
"I can talk to him now. But if I hypnotize him, it's easier to do it at night, because he'll sleep afterward."  
  
"If you'd like to talk to him, you can use his room for some privacy," Duncan offered.  
  
"Alright." Sean stood up. "Richie, will you please come with me?" Richie obediently stood and followed as Duncan showed them to his room.  
  
"Would you like to sit?" Sean offered once Duncan left.  
  
"I can't take it off," Richie said, sitting cross-legged on his bed.  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
"I don't know how do work these." He tugged at the straps of the overalls they had started to put him in a few days ago. Richie knew how to take off shirts and jeans and did so anytime someone wasn't watching. So Tessa had modified the clasps on a pair of overalls she had bought for him so they were nearly impossible for him to take off himself, so he had to get someone else to do it for him.  
  
"Why do you want to take them off?"  
  
"I can't play like this."  
  
"Do you want to play?" Sean took up his pad of paper and began writing.  
  
"That's what you want me to do, isn't it?"  
  
"I just wanted to talk to you."  
  
"No one likes to play here," Richie mumbled. "I want to go back to my master."  
  
"Why?"  
  
Richie paused. "Because."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"A child belongs with his master."  
  
"Who told you that?"  
  
"Mamma."  
  
"Who's Mamma?"  
  
"She takes care of me."  
  
"You mean Tessa, then."  
  
"No, Mamma. She works with Master. She takes care of all his children. She takes care of me."  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"Master's children don't have names."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"There's too many to name. But he knows us all; we have numbers. I could show you, but they took mine."  
  
"You seem upset by that."  
  
"It was mine. Master said nobody could take it. But they did."  
  
"Do you know where it is?"  
  
"No. Do you? Can you get it for me?"  
  
"I don't know where it is, but I can ask."  
  
"Thank you, sir."  
  
"Will you answer some more questions for me?"  
  
"If you wish me to."  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"I'm still a baby."  
  
"Why do you say that?"  
  
"Master tells me. He says I'm still a baby and that's why I can't go outside or sleep with the big kids."  
  
"Did your master keep you separated from the other children?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Because he said you were too young?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I see. Now, a few minutes ago you said you wanted to play. What do you mean by that?"  
  
"Play."  
  
"Play can mean many different things. How do you play?"  
  
"With grown ups, in their beds."  
  
"You mean sex?"  
  
Richie frowned. "What's sex?"  
  
"How do you play?"  
  
"There are lots of ways. Some I like, but some I have to because the guest wants me to."  
  
"What makes you not like certain ways?"  
  
"When it hurts. Or when it's really dark. Or too many people."  
  
"I see. Do you like to play?"  
  
"Yes, sir." Sean made a note on his paper. "What are you doing?" Richie asked.  
  
"I'm writing down what you're saying."  
  
"Are you going to show my master?" he asked quietly.  
  
"No. This is private. No one else will see."  
  
"Please don't show my master. He tells me I talk too much. I try to be good."  
  
There was a knock on the door. At Sean's invitation, Duncan opened the door. "Sorry to interrupt, but dinner is nearly ready. Do you want to come or should we save you some?"  
  
Sean looked at Richie, who had his head bowed shamefully. "I think we're ready to eat."  
  
The meal was short and quiet. Everyone wanted to ask how the brief session went, but didn't feel right asking in front of Richie, even though it was obvious he wasn't paying attention to the conversation. After the meal was finished, Duncan couldn't wait any longer and asked, "Did you get anything out of him?"  
  
"Enough to know that hypnosis is probably the best way to go."  
  
"So do it. We'll put him to bed now."  
  
"If that's the way you want to do it. But there is no rushing this. There is no way Richie will be back tonight. All I want to do is get him to admit that his name is Richie then I'll leave him alone."  
  
"What good will that do, why not get more out of him?"  
  
"Because forcing this on him will make him uncomfortable and he'll probably retreat further from this reality. We have to give him all the time he wants."  
  
"Whatever way is best," Duncan agreed.  
  
The two took Richie back into the room and helped him out of the overalls. After he had gone to the bathroom and brushed his teeth, he was ready for the shot. He squirmed a bit, but held still to receive the injection. Duncan helped him into bed and tucked him in.  
  
"Good night, Richie."  
  
"Good night, sir."  
  
Sean sat by his bed and waited for his eyes to start to droop. "What is your name?" he asked.  
  
"Master's children don't have names."  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"I'm a baby."  
  
Sean waited a few minutes. "What is your name?"  
  
"Master's children. don't have names," he answered a bit more slowly this time.  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"A baby."  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"Master's. children don't."  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"Baby."  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"Master."  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
No response.  
  
"What is your name?"  
  
"Richie."  
  
"How old are you?"  
  
"Don't know.." 


	12. CHAPTER 12

"Okay, Richie." Duncan stood up and started to collect the dinner dishes. "It's time to go talk with Sean."  
  
Richie looked from Duncan to Sean and back. "Do I have to, sir?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Afraid so. You'll understand why later."  
  
"When I'm bigger?"  
  
"Sooner than that, hopefully." He put his hand on the boy's shoulder. He and Sean had been talking every night for three days. "So will you go talk to him?"  
  
With an antsy glance toward Sean, Richie beckoned Duncan closer so he could whisper. "I don't like him. I can never remember what he does to me."  
  
Duncan looked him in the eye. "I promise he isn't doing anything bad. He's just talking to you."  
  
"I don't like him. Please don't make me go."  
  
"Do you want me to go with you? This is really important."  
  
"Will he be mad?"  
  
"No. I'll just tell him. So you go wait in your room. I'll talk to him."  
  
"Thank you, sir." Richie left to go wait.  
  
"Sean, we need to talk. Can you two finish this?" he asked Tessa and Conner. They nodded their agreement. He and Sean went out into the living room. "Richie's not liking this."  
  
"Is that what he was saying to you?"  
  
"He doesn't like it because he can't remember what happens. You've been doing this for three days, is it working or not?"  
  
"It's working," Sean assured him. "Richie trusts me when I have him sedated. He's battling himself right now. He'll get worse before he gets better."  
  
"He seems to be getting better. He trusts me more."  
  
"I'm afraid that's more of him accepting you as the master of the house."  
  
"What have you gotten out of him?" Duncan asked.  
  
Sean took a deep breath. "Usually I wouldn't speak about a patient to someone else, but these are unusual circumstances. So far all I've accomplished is gaining his trust. Tonight I was going to get into why he's done what he's done."  
  
"You've been doing this for three days and all you've done is introduce yourself?"  
  
"The boy has been hurt, Duncan. He's had no one to trust but himself for years, though he seems to think someone he calls Mamma wasn't so bad."  
  
"Look, he's not comfortable with this, but he seemed okay with the idea of me being there. Will that upset anything?"  
  
"Actually. I think that might help."  
  
They went into Richie's room, where he was kneeling by his bed. They got him undressed and in bed.  
  
"No!" Richie protested when Sean brought out the needle. He curled into Duncan, who had sat next to him on the bed.  
  
"Shh, it's okay, Rich," he assured him.  
  
"Don't let him, please, Master, don't let him!" Richie begged. "It hurts."  
  
Duncan's voice caught in his throat. "It'll be okay, Rich," he finally managed. "Come here." He put his arms around him and Richie did his best to hide himself from Sean and his needle. Sean gave Duncan and slight nod. "Okay, Richie, Sean's going to give you a shot. And it will hurt for just a second." Richie looked up at him. "It will only be a minute, I promise. Are you ready?" Slowly Richie nodded.  
  
After Sean gave him the shot, Richie didn't want to leave the relative safety of Duncan's lap. No amount of coaxing would get him to move. So, Duncan decided that Richie would stay where he was. He held onto the small, frightened boy as he drifted off slowly.  
  
Sean looked at his watch. "We'll give him another minute then get started."  
  
"I forgot he was scared of needles," Duncan said quietly. "You should have seen him when he had to get stitches. It took me and Tessa to calm him down. She held his free hand and I covered his eyes so he couldn't look at it. He was trying really hard not to cry. I'm surprised he didn't pass out."  
  
"Maybe we can find out why he's so scared of needles when we're through." Sean gave him a reassuring smile. "For today, I need you to stay quiet. Maybe in a day or two he'll want to talk to you. But if he doesn't ask, I'm going to keep this between the two of us as much as possible. Are you ready?" Duncan nodded. "Richie. Richie, it's Sean."  
  
"Ugh," Richie groaned. "Wha'd ya wan'?"  
  
"To talk some more."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Because Duncan MacLeod is worried about you."  
  
"Mac?" Richie whispered.  
  
"Tessa Noel, too."  
  
"Tess?"  
  
"Yes, they're worried about you."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"They don't know where you are. They've found your body, but not you."  
  
"My body?"  
  
"Where are you, Richie?"  
  
"Hiding."  
  
"You're hiding? From what?"  
  
"Them."  
  
"Who?"  
  
"The people."  
  
"Why are you hiding from them?"  
  
"Scared."  
  
"Of them or what they do to you?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What do they do to you?"  
  
"Can't tell."  
  
"Can't tell me?"  
  
"Mac."  
  
"You can't tell Duncan."  
  
"No."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"He's mad."  
  
"Duncan's mad?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Why do you think he's mad?"  
  
"'Cause."  
  
"Richie, he's worried about you. He's not mad."  
  
There was a long pause, as if Richie was thinking about the statement. "No?"  
  
"No, Richie," Duncan cut in.  
  
"Duncan," Sean warned.  
  
Duncan ignored him. "Richie, I'm not mad at you." He hugged him tightly. "I'm worried about you, Tessa, too. You're scaring us."  
  
"Mac?"  
  
"Yeah, Rich, it's me."  
  
"Maa-aac," he groaned softly, rolling in his arms so his face was up against his chest.  
  
"It's okay, Rich. Everything's okay now. You're safe."  
  
"Master."  
  
"No, he's gone Rich, you don't have to worry about him."  
  
"I'm sorry, Master." He weakly pushed against Duncan.  
  
"Rich? Richie? Sean, what's going on?" Duncan looked at his friend.  
  
"You woke him up."  
  
"What? Then what was the shot for?"  
  
"To get him to relax and put his guard down. You got him all worked up, you got his adrenaline going, and you woke him up."  
  
"Now what?"  
  
"Now we leave him alone. I'll try again tomorrow."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Duncan woke up to the strong feeling that someone was watching him while he slept. He rolled over and found Richie, naked, standing in the doorway.  
  
"Everything okay?" he asked sleepily. Richie nervously bit his lower lip and took a tentative step forward. "Is something wrong, Richie?"  
  
"I had a bad dream, sir," Richie said quietly.  
  
"It was just a dream, you're okay. Go back to sleep."  
  
"I can't."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"I'm scared." Richie walked forward and stopped at the foot of the bed. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"  
  
"What?" he sputtered.  
  
"Please, sir?"  
  
Sean woke up to a knocking on his door. "Sean, we have a. situation," Duncan said coming in.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"Well. Richie wants to.uh; sleep with Tess and me tonight."  
  
"He asked you?"  
  
"Yeah. He came into our room and said he had a bad dream then asked to sleep with us."  
  
"Has he ever done that before?"  
  
"He's never asked. He did once, though, before the kidnapping. There was a storm and.he did once."  
  
Sean smiled. "Maybe I should have let you talk to him sooner. Let the boy stay with you. Do you remember where he slept?"  
  
"We just woke up and he was at the foot of the bed."  
  
"Let him sleep there tonight. We may have him back sooner than I thought."  
  
Duncan agreed but insisted Richie put some clothes on before they went to bed.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
The next morning when Duncan woke up he was surprised to see that Richie wasn't curled at the foot of the bed like he had been a few hours before. The boy never woke up until you told him to, so him getting up on his own was a big step forward. He found the boy in the kitchen stirring eggs in a skillet.  
  
"Good morning, Richie."  
  
The boy turned around, his face a mix of shame and excitement. "Good morning," he replied carefully.  
  
Duncan noted that he had not addressed him as 'sir', another big step. "What are you doing up so early?"  
  
"I wanted to make you all breakfast."  
  
Duncan smiled. "That's very nice of you."  
  
Richie smiled back, the small traces of shame disappearing from his face. "I have pleased you?"  
  
"I think it is very nice of you to want to make breakfast for everybody," Duncan told him. "I can't wait to taste it."  
  
"I'm not a kitchen child," Richie confessed. "But I know how to make some things. My master.my former master," he corrected. "Used to let me help him make meals when he took me on picnics. Can we do that?" he ventured.  
  
"What cook or picnic?"  
  
"Either or both. I know it's forward of me, but you seem to like that."  
  
"Richie, we don't hide behind titles and roles here. We're friends, not master and slave."  
  
"I'm not a slave!" Richie suddenly yelled.  
  
Duncan took a few seconds to recover from the sudden out burst then, "I know you're not. That's what I just said. We're friends." He put his hand on the boy's shoulder and bent forward a bit so they were eye to eye. "We've been friends a long time. Do you remember yet?"  
  
"Yes," Richie answered softly. Before Duncan could absorb the confession he quickly corrected himself. "No! No! I don't remember! I don't know what you're talking about!" He pulled himself out of Duncan's grip and ran back to his room.  
  
Duncan started to follow him, but was stopped by Sean who was apparently listening in the living room. "I need to talk to him," Duncan said, trying to continue after him.  
  
"Give him a few minutes," Sean told him.  
  
"He just admitted that he remembered me, Sean. I can't let that slip away."  
  
"It won't. Just give him a minute."  
  
"It's finally working. All those talks are finally helping."  
  
"They were always helping. It's just showing more now. Richie may be back sooner than I had hoped."  
  
Duncan looked at him with a child's hope. "You really think so?"  
  
"I do. Did you happen to notice what he was wearing?"  
  
He shrugged. "Flannel pants and a T-shirt." Sean nodded and waited for him to put it together. "Flannel pants and a." a wide grin broke out on Duncan's face. "He dressed himself. He's wearing clothes again!"  
  
"You don't have to force him into overalls anymore," Sean agreed. "That's Richie."  
  
"Then why is he denying that he remembers after he admitted it?"  
  
"I told you that he was battling himself. The best way to describe what is happening with him is that he has two personalities right now, Richie and the slave, but they share one body. A long time ago, Richie gave the slave control of his body. And now Richie wants control again, but the slave won't let him have it. So chances are the two will go back and forth. He will be Richie one minute and the next the slave will be back. The changes in control won't always be as obvious as what just happened. All we can do is treat him as normally as possible. Let him have his way unless it is a submissive behavior. If he wants to be alone, let him. If he asks for a drink, get him one. If he tries to bow, correct him. I will speak with him again tonight after dinner and let him know that we are supporting his attempts of control and we're here for him."  
  
"So just more waiting?"  
  
"More waiting."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
That night at dinner was the first time Richie ventured out of his room. He had oddly enough dressed himself back in the overalls. He took his seat at the table, but kept his head bowed and kept trying to refill drinks and serve people more servings as they finished their food. Sean had explained to everyone what he had explained to Duncan that morning and they all patiently continued their work with the boy.  
  
After the dishes were done, Richie went straight to the living room, sat down on the couch, and turned on the TV. He had not touched any of the electronics since his arrival. Tears swam to Tessa's eyes and Duncan could feel them burning at his own.  
  
"He used to do that every night," she whispered to no one in particular. She and Duncan watched as Richie flipped through the channels, eventually landing on a rerun of his favorite sitcom that had be cancelled years before. With a deep, determined breath, Tessa went out into the living room and sat beside him on the couch. He slid down to sit on the floor at her feet, but did not give up control of the remote.  
  
"It's amazing," Sean commented to Duncan and Conner, who were also watching. "He's making rapid progress. I didn't expect anything like this for at least a few more days, if not a week."  
  
"What do you mean?" Conner asked.  
  
"He's already compromising with himself. He took a submissive seat, but kept the remote control."  
  
"That's progress?"  
  
"That is substantial progress." 


	13. CHAPTER 13

AN: now the story is getting more difficult to write. I know what I want to happen but am having a hard time putting it all into words. So please tell me if what I've written is at all confusing, so I can try to clarify. Special thanks to Lori and Bev for being sounding boards and putting up with me rambling about the story!  
  
Richie sat at the counter watching Tessa carefully as she chopped carrots for the stew she was making.  
  
"I can do that if you want me to," he offered.  
  
"That's okay, Richie, I'm fine. But thank you for the consideration."  
  
"Are you mad?" he asked.  
  
"I'm frustrated."  
  
"With me?"  
  
"Why would you say that?"  
  
"Because I can't do anything right anymore. I keep screwing up."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I never say the right thing; I never do the right thing. I can't remember at the right time."  
  
Tessa put down the knife and looked the boy squarely in the eye. "Richie?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
Tears swam to her eyes again. It had been three days since Richie had started 'coming out', but this was the first time she had spoke to him. Periodically throughout the day, there was a notable change in his demeanor and personality. He went from quiet and soft-spoken, to bold and talkative and back in a matter of minutes at random intervals.  
  
"It's good to have you back."  
  
"Richie!" Duncan called from the living room. "Can you come in here, please?"  
  
Something changed in the boy's eyes as he answered. "I'm coming, sir!"  
  
Tessa watched as Richie disappeared into the living room. It was awkward to be around the man-child. He still looked 18 when she knew he was nearly thirty. His behavior was like that of an unsure pre-teen; a near adult one minute and a shy child the next. Sometimes he would boldly start a conversation and sometimes he would be hard pressed to make eye contact when spoken to. Sometimes he would dress himself in the mornings and sometimes he'd appear naked and leave his clothes in the middle of the floor in the living room. Tessa herself couldn't decide on how to behave around him. One minute she wanted to take advantage of his new cuddlesome nature and hug him and make sure he felt welcome, and the next she wanted to scream, cry and curse the man who created this strange child out of the young man that she used to know.  
  
"No, Richie!" The harsh order brought Tessa out of her musings. She put down her knife and carrot and went to see what had happened. She found Richie crouched on the floor mumbling apologies and Duncan kneeling next to him trying to calm him down.  
  
"I didn't mean to yell at you, Richie," he assured him sitting him up. "But you have to remember that you can't play with us, it's not appropriate."  
  
"But I love you," Richie pleaded with him.  
  
"I love you, too."  
  
"Then why won't you play with me?"  
  
Duncan took Richie by the shoulders and looked him in the eye. "Richie, I want you to listen to me," he said a little louder than usual. "I know you don't want to have sex with me. I know you don't want to do this. I know you can control yourself. You have to keep trying."  
  
"Why won't you play with me?" he repeated more forcibly.  
  
"Because that's not what friends do."  
  
"But you're my master."  
  
"I am not your master."  
  
"Then who is?"  
  
"You are your own master. You decide what you want to do, no one else."  
  
"Every child has a master," he insisted.  
  
"No. No one has a master."  
  
"Then who will take care of me?"  
  
"We will, until you learn to take care of yourself."  
  
Richie turned to Tessa, his eyes totally confused. Whether it was from his own inner battle or the conversation, she didn't know.  
  
"Richie, will you help me set the table?" Tessa asked holding her hand out to him.  
  
With a deep, put out sigh, he took her hand and followed. Richie set the table and knelt behind Duncan's chair. He had been there a few minutes before Tessa noticed where he had gone.  
  
"Now, what are you doing down there?" she asked with a smile and a laugh, as if he were a small child she was playing with.  
  
"I am waiting for my master," he told her, puffing out his chest defiantly.  
  
"Your master?" she repeated. "You don't need to do that."  
  
"I must serve my master."  
  
"No, you must get up off the floor."  
  
"I am waiting to serve my master his meal."  
  
"Sean!" she called into the hallway toward his room.  
  
"What is it?" he asked.  
  
"I don't know what's wrong with him. He won't get up."  
  
Sean walked over to Richie and squatted in front of him. "Richie, can you hear me?" The boy looked directly at him, but didn't respond. "Richie, it's time to get ready for dinner."  
  
"I am ready to serve my master."  
  
"Richie, we've talked about this. You're not with Master anymore. You're home."  
  
"Every child has a master."  
  
"You're not a child."  
  
"Yes, I am."  
  
"No, you're not. You're an adult now."  
  
"No," he insisted.  
  
"Richie, you're losing control. I need you to fi." His words were cut off as Richie threw himself at him and kissed him deeply.  
  
"Richie!" Tessa shouted pulling the boy off. He fought her grip, reaching for Sean, trying to kiss him again. "Richie, stop!"  
  
"Richie!" Duncan called getting in on the fray with Conner right beside him. "What are you doing?" It took both Duncan and Conner to hold Richie somewhat still.  
  
"Let me go!" Richie screamed trying to break free.  
  
"Get him to his room," Sean ordered. "I'll be there in a minute."  
  
Duncan and Conner pulled Richie down the hall and Tessa had to grab his feet to keep him from kicking anyone. All three were pinning the boy to the bed when Sean came in with a syringe full of a strong sedative.  
  
"Let me go!" Richie screamed, still fighting. "Master! Master, help me! Please! Don't let them do this to me!"  
  
"Richie, it's okay," Sean told him calmly over his shouts. "Everything will be fine. This will just make you relax." He held onto Richie's arm just below the elbow and administered the shot.  
  
"No! Help! Help! Master, help! Let me go! Make them let me go! Mac, please!"  
  
At the sound of his name, Duncan released his grip on the boy's shoulders and pulled him up for a hug. "I'm right here, Rich," he assured him. "I'm right here. Everything is okay; you're safe now, you're okay."  
  
"Mac," Richie whispered wrapping his arms around the immortal's waist. "Mac, don't let them take me, please."  
  
"Nobody's taking you anywhere."  
  
"I don't want to go. Don't let them."  
  
"I'm not going to let anyone take you anywhere, I promise."  
  
Richie's grip steadily loosened until he fell back onto his pillows, fast asleep.  
  
"What happened to him?" Tessa demanded. "He was doing so well."  
  
Sean shook his head. "I knew he may get worse, but I never anticipated such an out burst."  
  
"What's wrong with him?" Duncan repeated the question.  
  
"Take the boy's head," Conner interrupted. "He's clearly delusional. And he's scared, Duncan. Just put the boy out of his misery."  
  
"I've already told you, Conner. I won't kill him and I won't let you."  
  
"We should be able to save him from that," Sean agreed. "The personalities are just so strong."  
  
"Richie is not schizophrenic!" Tessa shouted.  
  
"To a degree he is," Sean told her. "He has two personalities. And they're fighting for control right now."  
  
"There's medicine for that."  
  
"For a chemical imbalance that causes it. This is strictly psychological; no medicine can fix it."  
  
"But you can fix it?"  
  
"I can help him fix it; he has to do it."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Tessa had refused to leave Richie alone in case he woke up. She wanted someone to be there for him if he needed anything. At three in the morning, he started to stir and mumble in his sleep. She listened from her seat in a chair by his bed. It was obvious he was having some sort of flashback/nightmare.  
  
"I'll be good," he pleaded quietly. "Don't, sir, please. I'm a good boy, I'll be good; I'm a good boy!"  
  
"Richie," she said quietly. "Can you hear me?"  
  
"I'm a good boy."  
  
"Richie, wake up; you're having a bad dream."  
  
"I'm a good boy!"  
  
"Richie, please, wake up. It's Tessa, Richie. I'm here."  
  
"Don't, Master, please! Please!"  
  
"Richie, it's time to wake up," she reached over and shook his shoulder gently.  
  
"Mamma!" he screamed and bolted upright in the bed. Tessa jumped back. He turned to look at her. "Master will be mad," he told her calmly.  
  
"Richie, it's Tessa," she told him quietly. "Are you okay? Did you have a bad dream?"  
  
"I'm a good boy." He pushed the blankets off him.  
  
"Richie, talk to me."  
  
"I don't make my master angry."  
  
"Duncan!" Tessa called as Richie advanced on her.  
  
"My master likes for me to play with the guests. And I like to make my master happy." With surprising strength he grabbed her shoulders.  
  
"Richie!" Duncan barked from the doorway.  
  
"I'm a good boy," he said not looking away from Tessa. "I'm a good boy." He leaned in and kissed her deeply.  
  
She squealed and pushed on him, but he stood his ground. Duncan crossed the room in two steps and pulled him off of her. In reflex, Tessa slapped Richie hard across the face. He looked at her stunned for a minute.  
  
"Tess?"  
  
"Richie, I'm sorry," she hugged him tightly. "I didn't mean it."  
  
"I'm a good boy," he said softly.  
  
"Yes, you are."  
  
"I'm a good boy," he repeated as a mantra. Conner and Sean watched from the doorway, having been woken by the commotion. "I'm a good boy. I'm a good boy. I'm a good boy. I'm a good boy. I'm.. I'm a good boy. I'm a good. I'm a." He looked up at her as he fumbled over his words. "I'm a." his voice caught and his lip quivered. "I'm a whore!" His head fell onto her shoulder and he began to cry. 


	14. CHAPTER 14

Richie made rapid progress over the weeks to come. While he was still much more submissive than he had ever been before, he had rediscovered the word 'no' and used it often. Sometimes it seemed like he said it just because he could. He would refuse a potato when offered one at dinner and grab it for himself less than a minute later. Please and thank you were no where to be found in his vocabulary for four days, but returned shortly. Richie became increasingly interested in all the new things Duncan and Tessa had acquired since his disappearance.  
  
"Sir, your CD player doesn't work," Richie told Duncan in confusion. Names were an intermittent thing in Richie's vocabulary.  
  
Duncan went to see what was wrong and laughed at what he found. "The CD player works, Rich. This isn't a CD, it's a DVD."  
  
Richie wrinkled his nose and took the disk to examine it. "What's a DVD?"  
  
"It's a movie. They've pretty much replaced videos."  
  
"I thought that VCR was pretty small."  
  
Duncan smiled. "Conner went out and got some movies he thought you might like the other night. Want to watch one?"  
  
"On one of these, uh." Richie held up the disk.  
  
"DVD," Duncan supplied.  
  
"Yeah, on DVD?"  
  
"Sure."  
  
Richie sat glued to the flat screen TV watching the Star Wars prequels, amazed at the special effects, for the rest of the day.  
  
The next morning he asked permission to go look around the store. Tessa went down and closed the blinds so no one could see in, then let him explore.  
  
"Man, this computer is tiny!" Richie exclaimed looking at the flat screen monitor and streamline CPU. "What happened to the fax?"  
  
"It's right there," Tessa pointed to the scanner/printer/fax/copier combination next to the computer.  
  
"What does this part do?" he asked opening the scanner. Tessa told him. "You mean you just put something here," he pointed at the glass. "And push this button and whatever you put here shows up on the screen?" She nodded. "Can I try, ma'am?"  
  
To Tessa's amusement, Richie was excited at the idea of getting to do some 'busy work' as he used to call it. She showed him what to do and he settled down typing in information, scanning, copying and e-mailing information for the day. He had periodic questions and was none to shy about getting his answers.  
  
During the days, Richie explored his new little world and after dinner, he and Sean talked about what had happened to him. Every day he spent time scribbling in the journal Sean had given him. Sometimes answering prompts Sean had given him and sometimes just writing what he was thinking about.  
  
One night after talking to Richie, Sean gathered Duncan, Tessa and a reluctant Conner in the living room.  
  
"I know you're probably wondering what Richie and I have been talking about," he started. "Well, all I can tell you about that is that we are making wonderful progress. And he's ready to take the next step."  
  
"And what would that be?" Conner asked  
  
"Speaking openly about what happened. So this is where you all get involved. Richie's going to come out here and answer one question from each of you. This will help him to know that you're all on his side and help you all to understand some of his behaviors."  
  
"We can ask him anything we want?" Duncan questioned.  
  
"Well, I do suggest you start small. Nothing too deep or traumatizing." They all nodded their agreement and thought up their questions as Sean went back to get Richie.  
  
Richie came out and curled up in the over stuffed chair, clutching a pillow like a shield. At first Duncan didn't want to make Richie go through with the process, saying he looked scared, but Sean assured him that he and Richie had been talking about this for a week and Richie had been the one to decide when to do it.  
  
Duncan went first. "What do you want to do the most that you haven't done yet?"  
  
"Go outside," Richie said softly. "Master wouldn't let me outside if I wasn't right next to him. He said I would get lost. I think he thought I would try to run away."  
  
Tessa was next. "Were you scared?"  
  
"At first."  
  
"Keep going," Sean told him when he didn't continue.  
  
Richie took a deep breath and stared at the coffee table. "I was really scared when it happened. I was terrified while they kept me in Time Out."  
  
"What's Time Out?" Sean asked.  
  
"Time Out was when they put you in this little cell in the basement. And they would chain you to the wall and leave you there. It was a punishment. It was really dark; you never knew when they were coming for you; hell, you never knew IF they were going to come for you. I was down there for a long time; they beat me a lot while I was in there." He looked up at Sean, who gave him a kind nod, permission to stop talking about it.  
  
"Are you happy?" Conner asked him.  
  
"Excuse me, sir?"  
  
"Are you truly happy now that you are home?"  
  
Richie thought for a minute. "No..."  
  
"Conner, what the hell kind of question was that?" Duncan barked.  
  
"I was just asking him."  
  
"You have to give him more time!" Tessa insisted.  
  
"That's not what I meant," Conner defended. Duncan and Tessa didn't seem to hear.  
  
"You're not going to kill him, so stop trying!"  
  
"He's just a child!"  
  
"I know he is."  
  
"If you can't be constructive, just stay out of it!"  
  
Richie looked at Sean. "They didn't let me finish," he said quietly.  
  
"Tell them."  
  
"They're mad."  
  
"Not at you."  
  
"You didn't let me finish," Richie said. The others kept arguing.  
  
"Louder."  
  
"I wasn't finished," he insisted a little louder. "I wasn't done yet!" Still no response. "WILL YOU SHUT UP SO I CAN FINISH?!" he finally screamed. All eyes were on him. "You didn't let me finish," he said in a small, unsure voice.  
  
"Go ahead," Sean prompted.  
  
"I'm not happy," he admitted. "But I'm not happy because I remember. And since I will always remember, I'm never going to be truly happy. That's all I meant. But I am happy to be home and away from him.and I don't want to die."  
  
"Richie, no one is going to kill you," Duncan assured him. "I'm not going to let anyone dangerous near you until you are ready to defend yourself. You have my word on that."  
  
Richie didn't respond to the offered comfort but looked at Sean. "Am I done?"  
  
"Yes, you did well. I know it's hard for you, but this is what you need." Richie nodded his acceptance. "Why don't you go write for a while?"  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie looked at the prompt Sean had written at the top of the page in his journal. 'My first memories after the kidnapping.' Sighing, Richie settled at his desk and picked up a pen. He felt like he was writing the obligatory 'My Summer Vacation' essay on the first day of school. With large, awkward letters he started to write what he could remember.  
  
"I remember waking up on a plane and getting beaten whenever I moved. The first thing they did to me when I got to the Manor was take me in a room and strip me. The whole time it was silent and I was blindfolded so I never knew what was going to happen until it did. The first room I got to see was Master's office. The first person I saw was Mamma. Then Master came in with the kidnappers and they starting talking about money. I was sold for thirty thousand dollars and the promise that I would be there whenever they wanted me. Then Mamma and two children took me to the back shed and shot me. I didn't realize I was immortal for a long time.  
  
They kept me in a place called Time Out, a small prison in the." He looked up as the door opened. It was Sean.  
  
"Do you mind if I snoop?" Richie shrugged and handed him the notebook. "This is really good. You've got a lot in here. But remember, don't just tell me what happened; tell me how it made you feel."  
  
"Okay." Richie turned back to the journal. He abandoned what he had been writing before.  
  
"You want to know how I felt? I was scared out of my fucking mind. And sore as hell cause all they did was yell and beat me. THE END."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Where is everybody?" Richie asked fumbling into the kitchen the next morning.  
  
Duncan looked up from the stove where he was frying some bacon. "They all went out; it's just you and me today."  
  
"Just us?"  
  
"Yes. Oh, Sean left you a note on the table."  
  
Richie picked it up and read it. 'Be yourself. Answer his questions. Be truthful. Be brave. You can do this. - Sean'  
  
"This is some kind of bonding thing, isn't it?" he asked Duncan.  
  
"Afraid so, tough guy," Duncan told him bring him a plate of homemade waffles and bacon. "Do you want some juice?"  
  
"Yes, please."  
  
Duncan got two glasses of juice and sat down. They shared a quiet breakfast and did the dishes side by side, just like they had before the kidnapping.  
  
"Aren't you supposed to be asking me questions?" Richie asked suddenly. Duncan shrugged. Sean had told him to ask some questions and make sure Richie answered them, but the calm, familiar, relaxed mood was too pleasant for him to want to disturb it. "So what are we going to do, today?"  
  
"Well, I guess we could play some board games or watch some movies."  
  
"If you want to." Richie speak for I don't want to but don't want to make you mad.  
  
"What else could we do?" Duncan pretended to ask himself so Richie would have an opportunity to voice his opinion.  
  
"Go out?" he piped up hopefully.  
  
Duncan gave him a sad smile. "Sorry, tough guy, that's not an option. We can't risk you being seen."  
  
"Why not?"  
  
"Because your face was on the news every night for a long time. The whole coast was looking for you. If someone sees you ten years later looking exactly same, we'd have problems."  
  
"Was it really that long?"  
  
"Afraid so."  
  
"How much did I miss?"  
  
Duncan took Richie down to the office and logged him into TheNewYorkTimes.com. Richie read until the doorbell rang. He heard Duncan come down the stairs and hid behind the door peaking around the corner to see who was there. It was the pizza delivery boy.  
  
"You can come out," Duncan teased him after he closed the door.  
  
With a shy expression, Richie stepped around the corner. "I never could hide from you. Is that for me?" he asked gesturing to the pizzas in Duncan's hands.  
  
"One of them. I thought we could have a picnic."  
  
Richie shifted uncomfortably and looked down at the floor. "I'm not allowed outside," he reminded him.  
  
"I came up with a solution."  
  
He took Richie up to the roof where he had spread a blanket and left some sodas. Richie immediately plopped down on the blanket and stretched out. It wasn't quite fall yet, so the sun was warm and the air was still. Duncan sat next to Richie and opened the pizzas. One was cheese, olive, tomato and onion; the other pepperoni, sausage, pepper and mushroom.  
  
"Dig in."  
  
Richie stared at the pizzas and bit his lower lip. He was obviously restraining himself, waiting for Duncan to make the first move. Duncan reached in and picked up the biggest slice of the one he ordered for Richie and handed it to the boy. Richie took it, but still waited for Duncan to eat first. Once Duncan took a bite of his pizza, Richie started on his in frenzy. He was picking up his third slice as Duncan was finishing his first.  
  
"Hungry, Rich?" Duncan teased.  
  
"Starving," Richie answered gnawing on his crusts.  
  
"Are you serious?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Are you really that hungry?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Why didn't you get something to eat or tell me? I would have made you something."  
  
"You told me to read those papers on the computer."  
  
Duncan put his slice down. "Richie, if you didn't want to do that. I didn't mean to force you into it. I just thought that would answer your questions better than I could." Richie looked at him at a loss for what to say. "If I ever tell you to do something and you don't want to do it, you can say no."  
  
"You've already told me that."  
  
"Then why don't you do it?"  
  
"It was interesting. I liked reading about what happened."  
  
"That's good. But next time you get hungry, just get something to eat. You know where everything is."  
  
"Okay." Richie went back to his lunch.  
  
"So what did you read about?"  
  
"A bunch on this group called the talbin, I think.some war."  
  
"Oh, you mean the Taliban."  
  
"Yeah, them. What was that all about?"  
  
"Did you read about September eleventh?"  
  
Richie thought for a minute. "Is that where they crashed the planes in New York?"  
  
"Yes. The Taliban is who was responsible for it. We went to war to catch their leader."  
  
"Did we get him?"  
  
"It took some years and a lot of lives, but we did."  
  
"That's good."  
  
"What else did you read?"  
  
"I missed a lot of Super Bowls."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Lots of World Series'."  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"All sorts of stuff."  
  
"You did miss a lot," Duncan agreed. "But it's nothing you can't find out about."  
  
"I guess not." Richie picked at a pepper on his pizza.  
  
"What's wrong?"  
  
"It's not the same. It's one thing to read about World War I and stuff. but, Mac, I was alive when all this happened. And I missed it cause I was too busy trying to get people to feed me scraps off the table."  
  
"Did he not feed you?" Duncan asked, suppressing his anger. Sean had told him to get Richie talking about what happened.  
  
"Yeah, he did.not a lot, but he did."  
  
"You are really skinny. Tessa mentioned that those jeans are four inches smaller in the waist than the pants she used to get for you."  
  
Richie shrugged. "Don't look at me; I just did what he told me to."  
  
"Did you really rely on people feeding you from the table?"  
  
"Not always. It depended."  
  
"On what?"  
  
"Who I was serving."  
  
"How?"  
  
Richie sighed deeply and remembered Sean's instructions. "Like when you were there. If I had gotten in trouble, it would have been up to you if I was punished or not. It was up to you if I could eat. It was up to you if I got to sleep."  
  
"Actually, that nap was a must."  
  
"All part of that damn baby routine, huh?"  
  
"Actually, I asked him about that," Duncan said. "He was scared of you, Rich."  
  
He snorted. "Yeah right."  
  
"I'm serious. He said that you would be the one to ruin him given the chance."  
  
"We all would have, Mac."  
  
Duncan smiled at the sound of his name. "Rich, he knew that if he gave you the same treatment as the other children, he wouldn't be able to keep his control over you."  
  
"Nice try," Richie said studying the grease stain on the lid of the pizza box. "But I know I'm no different from any of the others."  
  
Duncan gave him an encouraging smile. "I think one of these days, Rich, you're going to see that you're not."  
  
"He just thought I was cute."  
  
"He thought you would give him a lot of trouble."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Richie, he told me himself the last dinner we had there. Do you remember that?"  
  
Richie sighed and picked up another piece of pizza. "All I remember about that night is you giving me a huge hunk of ham and roll."  
  
"I know you weren't supposed to listen to what the, uh."  
  
"The masters?"  
  
Duncan cringed at the ease with which Richie used to word. "What they said. But you can't tell me you never overheard bits."  
  
"If I did, I made myself forget."  
  
"Well, that's okay. But I promise, Rich, that's what he said."  
  
"He did not," Richie suddenly accused. "He would have never said he was scared of me to you."  
  
"Well, maybe not in so many words," Duncan admitted sheepishly. "But Richie, he did say that if he treated you like the others he wouldn't have the control anymore. See, Rich, even he knows you're stronger than that."  
  
"If you say so," Richie gazed at the sky line.  
  
Duncan sighed deeply. They had been doing a lot better when they weren't talking about the Manor. "Let's change the subject."  
  
"To what?" Richie demanded. "This is what Sean wanted isn't it?" His old temper was back. For the first time since his rescue, Richie was actually showing his anger. "I'm supposed to sit here and confess everything that happened to me? Tell you what I think about it? Sit here and cry and tell you how I feel? Well, I won't. I'm sick of crying about it! I'm sick of saying how I feel! I'm sick of reliving it so you can understand me! I just want to pretend it never happened!"  
  
"You can't do that, Richie," Duncan told him. "I want to, too. But we can't. It doesn't work like that. You have to understand it and we have to understand it before we can ignore it. And it will probably be years before we get that far."  
  
Richie looked at him for a few minutes. "It's not fair," he finally said, his voice breaking.  
  
"No, it's not," Duncan agreed softly.  
  
"Why does it always happen to me?"  
  
"It happened to a lot of kids, Rich."  
  
"I hated it there."  
  
"I know you did."  
  
"I just wanted to go home."  
  
"We wanted you home."  
  
"But I feel like an alien."  
  
"It will get better."  
  
"I don't know anything about what happened while I was there."  
  
"You can learn it all, Rich."  
  
"It's not the same."  
  
"I know."  
  
"No, you don't." Richie looked at him. "You have no idea what it's like. You have no clue how lost I am. You can never understand, because this would never happen to you."  
  
"What does that mean?"  
  
"This would have never happened to you. Even if by some miracle they got you there, they never would have done to you what they did to me."  
  
"You don't know that, Richie."  
  
"Yeah, I do," he insisted. "You would have never given in. You would have never let them get away with treating you like a dog. You would have fought them and won and gotten yourself and every other slave off that island and everything would end up perfect."  
  
"You think I could do all that?"  
  
"I know you could."  
  
Duncan sighed. "I think this is something we should talk about with Sean. But I can tell you this right now. Truly and honestly. If what happened to you, happened to me at eighteen, I would still be there scared out of my mind. Or I would have messed up so badly I'd be dead."  
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
Duncan tried to smile as he ruffled Richie's hair in attempt to lighten the heavy mood. "Well, lets get this cleaned up. The others will be home soon."  
  
Richie looked up at Duncan. "I'm not done. I want to stay."  
  
"Okay. But promise me you won't get too close to the edge and as soon as you're done, you'll pick up your trash and come inside."  
  
"I promise."  
  
With that, Duncan picked up his pizza box and soda can and left Richie alone outside for the first time in nearly ten years. 


	15. CHAPTER 15

"So being alone with Duncan today was okay?" Sean asked Richie that night as they cleared the dinner dishes.  
  
"Yeah. He showed me this cool site on the internet and we had lunch on the roof. It was fun."  
  
"Did you talk?"  
  
Richie rolled his eyes. "Yeah, we talked."  
  
"About?"  
  
"Stuff."  
  
Sean looked at Richie, hiding his exasperation. Meek, mild mannered, frightened Richie was much easier to handle than almost back to normal, stubborn, close-mouthed Richie. "What stuff did you talk about?"  
  
"Nothing I haven't already told you."  
  
With a patient sigh, Sean backed off, both figuratively and literally, taking a few steps towards the counter to widen the small gap between them. "So would you like to do it again?"  
  
"You mean spend the day with Mac, sure."  
  
"I was thinking of you spending tomorrow with Tessa, actually. Would you be comfortable with that?"  
  
"Yes," Richie told him, walking past on his way to his room. It was an unwritten rule, if from another room Richie retreated into his bedroom the discussion was over. It was his polite, yet blunt way of telling someone to shut up and leave him alone.  
  
"Richie," Sean stopped him anyway. "I left you an assignment in your journal."  
  
"Do I have to?" he whined.  
  
"The more you do now, the less you will have to do it in the future."  
  
"Yes, sir," Richie grumbled trudging away.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"What I missed the most and why..."  
  
With a sigh Richie picked up his pen and stared at the notebook. 'I missed little things, like bathing myself, feeding myself and making my own decisions. I never got to sleep in or order pizza like I did when I didn't feel like eating what Tess and Mac made and was too lazy to cook something myself. I missed dates.  
  
'None of the kids liked me there. I was the favorite and the brat. They would gang up on me and beat up on me, just because I was treated differently. Then they would get in trouble and I would get pampered and it would start all over. Because I was the 'baby' of the group, the girls didn't want to be seen playing with me or even really talking to me more than they had to. We were all supposed to be quiet and meek, but there was a definite class system. I was at the very bottom.  
  
'I missed hanging out with my friends, and having a good time. Staying out late on Saturday nights and sleeping until noon on Sunday. I missed getting drug along to fancy parties because it would 'look good' or to 'get some culture in my life'.  
  
'Mostly I missed Mac and Tessa.  
  
'I missed the way Mac used to explain every little detail of a new piece to me 'in case a customer asked'. Or how he insisted he always knew where I was going. How he would do nearly anything I asked just because he could. How he used to find excuses to take me places and give me stuff just to make me feel wanted.  
  
'I missed how Tessa used to fuss over me at the slightest health problem. It didn't matter if I sneezed, got burnt, cut or threw up, she was always there to put a bandage on it, send me to bed and make my favorite soup for me, even if lunch was ten minutes before. I missed how she hated my movies, but watched with me anyway. How she ever so slyly started changing my wardrobe because she didn't have the heart to tell me she hated my shirts.  
  
'I missed the way they wanted to include me in everything and felt horrible when they wanted to be alone. It never bothered me and I tried to tell them, but they always wanted to do something to make up for it. I missed the way they used to talk about me after I went to bed and they thought I couldn't hear. Even when I had done something wrong, they were never mean about it. Not to my face and not behind my back. They accepted who I was and what that meant and never asked for anything different.  
  
I missed getting to be myself. I missed being home. I missed being important to someone for a reason other than sex. I missed everything.'  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"No way," Duncan shot down the idea that night after Richie had gone to bed.  
  
"Why not?" Tessa asked. "You spent today with him; I want a turn."  
  
"The difference is I am immortal, if someone came by I could protect him," Duncan insisted.  
  
"There are two other immortals here," Conner reminded him.  
  
"We need a guard?" Tessa demanded. "We'll be fine for one afternoon."  
  
"Tess, I'd just feel better knowing that Richie is protected from any immortal that may drop by."  
  
"Like who?"  
  
"Someone looking for me. Maybe someone looking for him."  
  
"You think that man is looking for him?" Tessa worried.  
  
"I think that he considers Richie stolen property and a liability. He may not know where we are, but he can still be looking. There are plenty of people who know Richie's face and know who he belongs to. I'm not leaving you two unprotected."  
  
"You think he's looking for me?" Richie's voice shook from the doorway.  
  
"Rich, what are you doing up?" Duncan asked.  
  
Richie crossed the room to Duncan. "Don't let him take me back," he pleaded. "I can't go back."  
  
"I know, tough guy. And we're not going to let that happen. That's why we're deciding who gets to stay with you and Tessa tomorrow."  
  
"I hate him, Mac. I won't go back there."  
  
"I know, Rich. Everything will be fine. We didn't mean to scare you. No one is going to hurt you... I won't let them. Do you believe me?" Richie nodded. Duncan smiled at him. "Good. Let's get you back to bed, huh?" He led Richie back down the hall and into his room. He waited for Richie to get back into his bed and settled under the covers. "Good night, Rich." He put his hand on the light switch.  
  
"Mac?"  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"Please don't turn off the light. I don't like the dark."  
  
"Alright. I'll leave it on."  
  
"And don't close the door, sir."  
  
"It stays open," Duncan agreed wondering where these sudden fears had come from. He had been doing fine sleeping in a dark, closed room up until tonight.  
  
"And Mac?"  
  
"Yes, Rich?"  
  
"Will you stay with me?"  
  
"Right now?"  
  
"Just for a little bit?" Richie bargained with him. "Please?"  
  
"I'll stay until you fall asleep. How does that sound?" Duncan asked, sitting lightly on the edge of the bed.  
  
"Perfect."  
  
"Okay, now go to sleep."  
  
Richie scooted closer to Duncan until he had his head on his knee then obediently closed his eyes. It took him a little over five minutes to fall asleep. Duncan waited another ten before gently moving his head to his pillow and leaving the room, lights on and door open.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Is everyone gone?" Richie asked as he wandered into the kitchen the next morning. Tessa was toasting bagels.  
  
"Sean is in the store. But he won't come up today. It's you and me."  
  
"I can live with that," Richie decided going to the refrigerator for some juice. "He can't hear us, right?" he asked a few minutes later as they sat at the table with their bagels.  
  
Tessa smiled. "No. Do you not want him to hear?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"Do you not like him?" she asked gently.  
  
He shrugged. "He's okay."  
  
"Do you not like what he asks you?"  
  
"I don't mind."  
  
"Do you not like what he has you do?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
Tessa gave up. "Alright then."  
  
They ate the rest of their meal in silence, but comfortable silence, both still able to bask in the fact that the other was simply there.  
  
"So... how'd you finally get Mac to leave?" Richie asked as they sat, staring at empty plates.  
  
"If another immortal comes we call him. He's just down the street at the café with Conner."  
  
"There's a café down the street?" Richie asked.  
  
"It went in a few years ago, where the furniture warehouse used to be."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"What do you want to do today?" she asked taking her plate and his to the dishwasher.  
  
"We can just talk," he answered.  
  
"Okay. Why don't you get settled in the living room and I'll be right there."  
  
She watched him leave the kitchen. Duncan had told her how hard it was to get Richie to open up and share what had happened the day before. And how angry the boy had gotten suddenly. But here was that same boy, asking her to talk with him. She knew she shouldn't but she really wanted to rub it in Duncan's face when he got back and nothing had happened.  
  
Richie was settled in the chair when Tessa entered the living room. She sat down on the couch being sure to sit in the closest available seat.  
  
"This is the part where you ask me what you want to know," Richie said softly.  
  
"I don't have to if you don't want me to."  
  
"If I don't want to answer it, I won't." He pulled the cushion out from behind him and used it as a small shield.  
  
Tessa thought for a moment. "Are you at least happier now that you're home?"  
  
"Yes. I didn't mean to freak you guys out when I said that I wasn't happy. I was just trying to be honest."  
  
"We know you didn't mean anything by it. We were angry at Conner, not you."  
  
"Why does he want to kill me?" Richie asked softly.  
  
Tessa reached over and pet his arm. "He doesn't. You don't have to worry about that, alright?"  
  
"Yes, ma'am."  
  
"Now, do you mind if I ask you another question?"  
  
"Shoot."  
  
"Was there anything there that you liked?"  
  
Richie thought for a minute. He could think of one thing. "Mamma. She was the nicest person there."  
  
"What did she do?"  
  
"She took care of us. She was the only one Master listened to besides the guests. She actually, no offence or anything, reminded me of you. She was always on my side and was ready to help if I needed her. She actually saved me from some beatings."  
  
"That's good, that there was someone there for you," Tessa said as kindly as she could. She wasn't too happy being compared to someone who would willingly do something so horrible to a child. But at least someone there treated him right. Tessa was about to speak again when she heard a thump down stairs.  
  
"Did you hear that?" Richie asked.  
  
"Call Duncan... go in our room," she ordered getting to her feet. Richie went to the phone then realized he didn't know the number.  
  
"What do you want?" he heard Tessa demand. He didn't hear the answer but did hear the breaking glass of the door that connect her workshop and the kitchen.  
  
"Tessa!" He ran down the hall and found her backing away from two young men with a whisk in front of her as if it were a dangerous weapon.  
  
"Stay back!" she ordered. "Stay back or I'll...I'll..." she got a good look at her weapon of choice for the first time. "Stay back!" she repeated brandishing the weapon as if she had some end to her threat.  
  
In the hallway, Richie opened the coat closet and snatched up the first weapon he could find. A long umbrella.  
  
"Leave her alone!" he yelled coming from behind Tessa to in front of her swinging the umbrella like a sword. "Tessa go," he told her. "Get Mac and Conner."  
  
"She can't go," one of the intruders said. "Master told us to bring you both."  
  
Richie's mouth went dry. "Master?"  
  
"You tell him that we're not going anywhere!" Tessa spat from Richie's shoulder.  
  
"We have to bring you both," the other insisted.  
  
"Like hell!" Richie argued, swinging the umbrella again. "You stay away from us!"  
  
The two stood side by side, ridiculous weapons in hand, ready to fight. Richie was itching to get a good solid blow in. He was finally home, and he'd be damned if someone made him leave again. He was about to strike when an immortal buzz hit him.  
  
"Please be Mac," he whispered to himself.  
  
Unfortunately Duncan, who was staring at the store all during breakfast, could not see the delivery van as it pulled into and out of the alley from the street behind the store. He did, however see Sean running down the street towards him a few minutes later.  
  
"I don't know how I missed it," the immortal panted. "But they're gone." 


	16. CHAPTER 16

Richie and Tessa were taken to an old office building on the outskirts of the city. They were bound and gagged while in the back of the paneled van. Master drove and left the task of keeping his captives under control to the boys he had brought with him. When they arrived, a chain was slipped round Richie's neck so Master could lead him while the mortals struggled with a struggling Tessa. Once inside they were led to the middle of a large room. Master stopped and made a gesture with his hand. Richie knew the order and obeyed kneeling down. The mortals tried to push Tessa down as well, but Tessa refused.  
  
"Deal with her first," Master decided. He took a large pair of scissors off a near by table and handed them to one of the boys. They busied themselves cutting away Tessa's shirt. While they worked Master went back to Richie and untied his hands. Richie reached for the gag, but was stopped. "No, no. You know what I want you to do," Master told him gently.  
  
Richie obediently began to undress. Then folded the clothes in a neat pile in front of him. Master then retied his hands and grasped the chain. He ordered Richie to his feet then led him to a door at the far end of the room. He opened the door, gestured Richie ahead of him and locked him inside.  
  
Tessa was being as difficult as she could manage as they cut away her clothing. She struggled more as she watched Richie be lead away. Master approached her and removed the gag.  
  
Tessa screamed at him in rapid French.  
  
Master slapped her. "You must learn to behave. Such language is not tolerated."  
  
"Why won't you just leave him alone?"  
  
"Because he is mine. I bought him and he was stolen from me."  
  
"He's a human being! You can't sell a life."  
  
"I have been doing this before your family even existed. You have no power to stop me."  
  
"Why him? Why do you have to take him? He belongs at home with his family!"  
  
"If you want to join him you will do exactly as I say."  
  
Tessa paused. "What do you want?"  
  
"Your phone number. Now that I have my property back, I have to deal with the thieves." He took out a cell phone and Tessa gave him the number. "MacLeod, I presume?" Master asked when the line was picked up. "I believe we have some business to discuss... Yes, they are right here with me. Safe and sound." He laughed. "Very well then." He held the phone to Tessa's ear.  
  
"Mac! He has Richie, you have to save him!"  
  
Master took the phone back. "Are you satisfied?... I'm afraid that's not a possibility. He isn't allowed to use the phone... I assure you he is in the best of hands. What sort of Master would I be if I hurt my baby? Very well, just this once." He left and went to the other room. A few minutes later, he came back. "You may put her in Time Out. And bring me my baby boy. We have a lot to catch up on."  
  
The two mortals took Tessa to the room shoved her in and roughly grabbed Richie, dragging him back out.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie had been gone for over an hour and Tessa was starting to worry. She paced the small, dimly lit, windowless room she was locked in waiting for him to come back. She could hear muffled voices in the next room, but that was her only indication that she had not been abandoned in her cell, still bound and gagged.  
  
"You are such a good boy," Master whispered in Richie's ear as they lay on a mattress in another room. "You are just as I remember you. Did you miss your master?" Richie couldn't answer as he was still gagged. He was panting slightly trying to catch his breath, but the gag hindered regular breathing. "I was worried when I found you gone that day. There were so many places they could have taken you." He pushed a damp curl off Richie's forehead. "I am so glad to have my special baby boy back." Richie just looked at him. "Do you promise to behave?" Richie nodded. The gag was removed and his hands were untied. "That's better. You are much better looking without all this." Richie still couldn't answer. The only thing running through his head was if Tessa was okay. "Are you hungry?"  
  
"Yes, Master," Richie found himself answering.  
  
"Then you may fetch girl. It is time for lunch."  
  
"Yes, Master." Richie got up and made his way back to the small cell. He rushed to Tessa.  
  
"What happened?" Tessa asked as soon as he took off her gag.  
  
"Nothing," he answered carefully looking her in the eye and no where else.  
  
"Are you alright?"  
  
"Yes." He untied her hands.  
  
"What are you not telling me?"  
  
"Look, we can talk later; Master said it's time for lunch."  
  
"So we just run to him like cats to a can of tuna?" she scoffed. "We're human beings."  
  
"Look," Richie hissed. "This may be the only chance we get to eat today. You may have your pride, but I've been humiliated too much to care anymore. You coming or not?"  
  
"Richie, how can you just go back to this life? It's horrible, it's degrading, it's..."  
  
"Well, it's all I had for a long time. So it's good enough for me," he snapped.  
  
Tessa paused. "Richie, I'm sorry, I didn't mean... I'm just worried."  
  
"Me too. But there's no work to do around here; we'll have plenty of time to figure something out. Right now it's time to eat."  
  
He took her hand and they walked out to Master. Richie crouched on the floor and had to tug on Tessa's hand a few times to get her to do the same.  
  
"You will learn, my dear. All of my children do. And since you've been so good, I am going to reward you."  
  
Her reward was being given the first wax paper wrapped sandwich after she, Richie, and the two other boys and been arranged in a small circle in the middle of the floor.  
  
"Time for prayers," Master reminded them.  
  
The three boys automatically joined hands and Tessa reluctantly joined as well. Together they recited the prayer. Tessa knew it from all the times Richie mumbled it before he ate anything or went to sleep. That had been one of the last things to go in his routine. And he still repeated the prayers sporadically replacing "holy master" with God and taking out Master and his siblings in favor of Duncan, Tessa and his friends.  
  
When Master was satisfied and gone elsewhere, Tessa opened the food. She and the two mortal boys were given tuna fish sandwiches on wheat bread and tall glasses of water. Richie got peanut butter and jelly on white, no crusts and cut in half and his large sippy cup was filled with milk. The boys were openly envious of Richie's meal and one made a grab for the half that Richie left unprotected as he ate the other. But Master saw the move and confiscated the boy's meal before sending him to the corner. Richie rolled his eyes at Tessa behind Master's back. A typical meal.  
  
Once they were done eating, the boy gathered the trash and cups and left Tessa and Richie kneeling in the middle of the floor. Tessa started to get up, but a slight shake from Richie's head stopped her. 'We wait' he mouthed. They ended up waiting until Master had eaten before he acknowledged them.  
  
"I suppose it's time for somebody's nap," he nearly cooed approaching the pair.  
  
Richie looked up at him. "Her too?"  
  
"Do you want company?"  
  
"Please?" Richie had noticed the way Master was looking at Tessa and wanted to keep her as close as possible.  
  
Master smiled at him. "Alright. And I want to have a little talk with you, too. So you go get ready and I'll be there in a minute."  
  
Richie and Tessa got up and hurried off to their little room to talk while they could.  
  
"Wednesday at three," Richie said as soon as they were in the room and out of hearing range.  
  
"What?"  
  
"That's what Master told Mac on the phone. He said he'd send a car Wednesday at three. So all we have to do is play nice for a couple days and we're good."  
  
"And how are we defining the term 'play'?" Tessa demanded.  
  
"Tessa, I promise, he'll have to kill me first."  
  
"Richie, don't put yourself in danger because of me," she told him. "I'm a big girl and can take care of myself."  
  
"Time for our chat," Master said coming into the room before Richie could answer. "Get ready." Richie moved to the edge of the little pallet he and Tessa had been given to share and knelt down. Master smiled. "I'm not going to punish you, you may lie down." Richie obeyed. Tessa stood in the corner. It was odd to watch Richie slip back and forth between the two personalities so easily. She feared that by Wednesday they would have to start all over with him. "I just wanted to tell you," Master said as he tucked him in. "That I am not angry at you for what you did. You are young and impressionable and easily manipulated. You didn't no any better than to go with those men. You're too little to have understood what their intentions were. So you need not worry about any consequences. Do you understand?"  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"Good." He kissed Richie's temple. "Now get some rest, you've had a busy morning." Once he had taken care of his baby, Master moved on to his new girl. "You've had quite a couple days; you should get some rest, too." He reached out to guide her to the pallet, but she jerked out of reach.  
  
"Don't touch me!" she spat. Richie sat up, ready to defend Tessa should she upset Master.  
  
"Very well, but to bed with you," he told her sweetly.  
  
With her head held high, she got under the covers, turned her back to Master and pretended to go to sleep. Richie lay down as well, following her example. As soon as they heard the lights switch off and the lock turn both opened their eyes to total darkness.  
  
"Tess?" Richie whispered.  
  
"Right here," she answered.  
  
"Are you okay?"  
  
"I'm fine. Did you speak with Duncan?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"He told me that he'd be here as soon as he could and to behave."  
  
"We can do that," Tessa agreed.  
  
"Tess?" Richie whispered after a long pause.  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I meant what I said. He'll have to kill me before I let him touch you."  
  
"Richie..." Tessa's hands groped under the blankets until she found Richie's shoulders. "If that's what it takes to get out of here safely, I'll do it."  
  
"You can't."  
  
"Why not? It's for nothing other than survival."  
  
"As long as I'm here, I go first," he insisted.  
  
"Richie, you don't have to protect me."  
  
"You don't understand. Just let me handle all that stuff. There's no reason for you to go through what I did. Not when I can handle it."  
  
"Richie..."  
  
"This is something I have to do; you can't take that away from me."  
  
"Alright. But if it comes down to it, there's no reason for anyone to get hurt," she reluctantly agreed. "Let's get some sleep."  
  
She felt Richie shift around and then felt a pillow brush her skin and lay between them as a divider. It was his attempt to make sleeping, naked, in the same bed a little more comfortable.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"How is my baby boy?" Master asked Tuesday morning as Richie and Tessa were brought out for breakfast. "Did you sleep well?"  
  
"Yes, Master."  
  
"And you, girl, did you sleep well?"  
  
"As well as one who has been kidnapped," Tessa answered curtly. She had no intention of giving into this man, or even to pretend to. And she had been letting him know that since yesterday. She was rude, condescending and stubborn.  
  
Master grabbed her arm. "I have had enough of your attitude!" he roared. "You will learn to respect me!" He slapped her face. "You will learn, and learn quickly or I will be forced to punish you," he sneered.  
  
"Master, no!" Richie pleaded falling to his knees at the man's feet. "Punish me!"  
  
He looked down in amusement at his baby on the floor. "What did you say?"  
  
"Please, Master! Don't hurt her!"  
  
"Why should I punish you? Her behavior is not your responsibility."  
  
"Please, don't hurt her! If you wish to punish someone, punish me!" Richie begged.  
  
"You want me to punish you?"  
  
"If you have the need..."  
  
Master laughed and let go of Tessa's arm before crouching on the floor by Richie. "My baby, why would you say something like that?" he asked giving Richie a strong hug. "Her behavior has nothing to do with you," he assured him, holding him close with one hand and smoothing back his hair with the other. "You are a good boy and I have no need to punish you."  
  
"Please, Master, don't hurt her. I'll make sure she is good, don't hurt her."  
  
"Why do you want to take on her training as your responsibility?"  
  
Richie's mind raced. "I'm a big boy," he finally answered. "I want to do big boy things."  
  
Master laughed again. "Just because you are not in your nursery and haven't been for a while, doesn't make you a big boy. You still have a long way to go."  
  
"No, I'm a big boy."  
  
"Not yet, you're not."  
  
Richie nodded, not missing the edge in Master's voice. "Can I try?" he asked quietly. "Please?"  
  
Master smiled. "You want to train girl?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"I'll tell you what," he decided. "You can be my special helper. If you see her doing something wrong you can correct her. You can show her how she's supposed to act. How does that sound? Do you want to be my helper?"  
  
"Yes, Master," Richie answered, summoning the best smile he could. He was supposed to be an excited child.  
  
"Then it's a deal." He kissed the top of Richie's head then smoothed his hair again. "I think it's time for someone to see Mamma for a hair cut."  
  
"I missed Mamma," Richie whispered.  
  
"We all missed you."  
  
After breakfast (plain oatmeal for everyone except the baby who got cinnamon, sugar and raisins in his), Richie and Tessa were sent back into their little room.  
  
"You didn't have to do that," Tessa told Richie after they heard the door lock.  
  
"I wasn't going to let him beat you." He took a step towards her and touched her red cheek lightly. "Does it still hurt?"  
  
"It only stung for a minute. I'm fine. What about you?"  
  
"He didn't hit me."  
  
"But he has you acting like a child again."  
  
"Tess, I'm just giving him what he wants. I promise that it's not working. I'm still me and plan on being me from here on out," he assured her.  
  
"You're a great actor then," she told him. "You had me convinced."  
  
"Then I did my job." He sat down on the pallet on the floor, putting his pillow on his lap. Tessa sat next to him wrapping the blanket around herself. They had become oddly used to seeing each other's bodies, but still covered what they could when they could out of habit.  
  
After lunch Master tried to put Richie down for a nap and tried to keep Tessa for himself. Richie begged and pleaded that Tessa stayed with him.  
  
"It's scary!" he begged trying to get himself to cry. "It's dark and strange. I don't want to be alone!"  
  
"Boy, you are trying my patience," Master warned.  
  
"Please?" Richie begged. "Don't make me go in there alone!"  
  
"I will send a boy to stay with you, then."  
  
"Please, Master, they're mean. They steal my food and hit me when you look away. They'll hurt me! Don't leave me alone with them!" Richie was crouched on the floor, hugging Master's ankles, still trying to cry.  
  
"Boy, I will not tolerate this behavior. You are to do as you are told. Now go to bed!"  
  
"Please!" Richie sat up and clung to Master's pants.  
  
"That is enough!" Master yelled, back handing Richie. "I will not let you get away with this!" The slap made Richie's eyes water and he used that to his advantage. He looked up at Master, sniffling and looking as pathetic as he could. "This will not work. You will not manipulate me. Now go to bed!"  
  
"No!" Richie recoiled as soon as he heard his voice answer so defiantly.  
  
Master's eyes flashed with an anger Richie hadn't seen since he had not allowed Master to touch him his first day out of Time Out. "What did you say?" he demanded reaching for his belt buckle. Richie froze, unable to speak. "Did you say 'no' to me?" Master continued, unbuckling his belt and taking it off.  
  
"M-m-m-master... Master please..." Richie begged backing away on all fours. "I...I'm sorry, forgive me... I-I-I..."  
  
"You what?"  
  
"I was bad," Richie whispered.  
  
"And what happens to bad boys?"  
  
"They're punished."  
  
"That's right." He advanced on the boy, who was cowering on the floor.  
  
"No!" Tessa stopped him. "Leave him alone. He just wanted to protect me."  
  
"You will stay out of this," Master instructed. "This is between myself and my very, very bad, baby boy," he said spitting the last words at Richie.  
  
"He's a child!"  
  
"He is my child! Hold her back!" he ordered one of the mortal boys, who grabbed Tessa. "As for you..." he folded the belt in half. "You have a lesson to learn."  
  
"Richie!" Tessa screamed as the belt cracked on the boy's bare butt repeatedly. "Stop! Leave him alone! I'll do what you want! Please, just don't hurt him!"  
  
Master stopped mid-swing and looked up at Tessa. "You will obey me?"  
  
"No! Master, I'm the bad one!" Richie insisted. "I deserve to be punished."  
  
"Silence!" He hit Richie hard in the back of the head with his belt. "Restrain him," he ordered a boy. "Bring her to me."  
  
A boy grabbed Richie roughly and began to drag him to the little room. He watched helplessly as Tessa was led to Master's room. 


	17. CHAPTER 17

Having pleased Master, Tessa was sent back to the little room. Richie was lying curled up on his side, bound hand and foot and gagged.  
  
"Don't untie him," Tessa's mortal escort warned. "It's his punishment."  
  
"Get out of here," she sneered. He left, locking the door behind him. "Petit." She knelt beside him and reached for the gag. "Are you alright?"  
  
"I'm okay," he whispered. "What about you?"  
  
Tessa smiled for him. "Nothing I haven't done before. I'm fine." She touched the ropes around Richie's wrists. "Do you want me to take these off?"  
  
"No. He'll catch us. We shouldn't even be talking."  
  
They heard the lock turn and Tessa quickly tied the gag again and began stroking his cheek. "Everything will be okay," she assured him as the door opened.  
  
Master walked in. "Time for bed," he told them.  
  
"We're not tired," Tessa told him flatly.  
  
"What have I told you about talking back?"  
  
"I'm an adult, not one of your slaves."  
  
Master raised his hand to strike her and Richie sat up screaming into his gag, struggling wildly to get free. A sinister smile spread across Master's face. Instead of hitting Tessa, he pulled Richie to his feet and threw him into the wall. "From now on," he told Tessa. "When you misbehave, he will be punished."  
  
"You can't do that!" she protested.  
  
"Of course I can. I am your master. He learned that and you will too." He crouched down to where Richie lay in a broken heap and helped him back onto the pallet. "I'm sorry, baby," he soothed. "You have to remember that I don't like hurting you. You said you would train her, so make sure she's a good girl." Richie nodded feebly. Right now everything but his eyelashes hurt. "And as for your punishment..." his fingers grazed the ropes. "This is for saying no to me and arguing with me. You know better than that." Richie nodded again. "I will untie you in the morning before breakfast." He turned to Tessa. "Get in bed," he ordered. For the first time since she had arrived, Tessa obeyed without protest.  
  
Master sighed and looked at the pair. "Well, I suppose you can't say your prayers like this can you?" he gently teased Richie. "I'll say them for you." He sat the boy up and positioned himself behind him. "Holy Master," he started with a pointed glare at Tessa.  
  
"Bless my master," she recited with him.  
  
As they said the prayer, Master gently rocked Richie. If Richie hadn't been tied up, he would have been very comfortable and falling asleep. As it was, he was wondering how to stop the coarse ropes from cutting into his wrists and ankles. When they were done, Master kissed the top of Richie's head and whispered. "I love you, baby boy." Then he leaned over to kiss Tessa's temple, settled Richie onto his pillow, tucked them in, turned off the light and left.  
  
"Richie, I'm so sorry," Tessa whispered. "Are you alright?" He couldn't answer vernally or shake his head that she could see. "What a mess. Can this get any worse?"  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Did he say where he was?" Conner asked.  
  
"Would I be here if he had?" Duncan barked.  
  
"Loosing your temper won't help matters," Sean said calmly. "What did they say."  
  
"He said that we had business to discuss and he'd send a car at three on Wednesday."  
  
"Did you talk to Tessa and Richie?" Duncan nodded. "What did Tessa say?"  
  
"She was worried about Richie."  
  
"What did he say?"  
  
"That he was okay. They weren't hurt. And he said something about a long...something when the phone cut off."  
  
"Did you hear any of the next word?"  
  
He thought for a minute. "Could've been long trip, long drive, long flight, I don't know. What did you find?"  
  
Sean shook his head. "I couldn't find any immortals."  
  
"Two planes at the hanger," Conner spoke up. "So they have to still be here. And if he called and is sending a car, they can't be too far."  
  
"But which way did they go?"  
  
"Let's think this through logically," Sean suggested. "You have a coast to the west."  
  
"Same thing south. You get cut off about ten miles out of town," Duncan added. "And twenty miles north is a national park."  
  
"So that leaves east," Conner decided.  
  
"Unless they're between here and the cut off or the park," Sean reminded him. "That's thirty miles."  
  
"Not south. Once you leave the city limits there's nothing. Not a gas station, not a truck stop, not a cabin. Just a dead end and some picnic tables."  
  
"What about north?"  
  
"A few buildings," Duncan mumbled. "Some company tried to expand out there. Never worked though."  
  
"How far out of town?"  
  
"Five miles, I suppose."  
  
"How long to get there from here?"  
  
"About an hour and a half, two maybe." Duncan sat up a little straighter. "Richie can't stand being in a car for more than half an hour. He'd say that was a long trip."  
  
"What's out east?" Sean asked.  
  
"Interstate. There are a few small towns, a couple cities. They could have gone that way."  
  
"Our best bet is north," Conner said. "It has to be there."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Less chance of being caught. If they go somewhere on the interstate, there are cars going by at all hours. If they go north, it's just a two- lane road. And this time of year, with school about to start, I doubt there's many people passing by."  
  
Duncan thought for a minute. "That makes sense."  
  
"Then we go."  
  
"What? Go where?"  
  
"North. To get Richie and Tessa."  
  
"We can go look and have plenty of time to get back if we're wrong," Duncan agreed.  
  
"We can surprise him before he's ready for us," Sean added. "And with three of us, he doesn't stand a chance. Two of us get Tessa and Richie, the other takes his head."  
  
"Conner, you get Tessa; Sean, you get Richie in case he's confused again. I'll take care of 'Master'." Duncan stood up and began to leave.  
  
"Where are you going?" Sean stopped him.  
  
"To get Richie and Tessa."  
  
"Duncan, there's no reason to rush into this," Conner told him. "As long as we show up before he sends for us we'll surprise him. We need to be rested to make sure nothing goes wrong. Tessa and Richie will be fine for one more night. They're both strong."  
  
"I suppose you're right."  
  
"Then it's decided," Conner said. "We'll leave first thing in the morning."  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Richie was awakened by gentle hands unwinding the ropes from his ankles. He stirred a bit and tried to see who was doing it. It was too dark to see. Tessa was beside him so it was either Master or one of the boys.  
  
"Shh, baby. You're punishment is over," Master's voice soothed him as a hand brushed his cheek. "I've come to let you go." He moved to untie Richie's wrists. Then removed the gag. "I bet you're sore. Let me help you." He eased Richie up so he was sitting. The movement woke Tessa.  
  
"What are you doing to him?" she asked.  
  
"I'm ending his punishment. Now go back to sleep."  
  
"Don't hurt him."  
  
"I would never hurt my baby. And I believe I told you to go to back to sleep."  
  
"I'm okay, Tess," Richie whispered his voice a bit horse. He felt her lay back down.  
  
"Would you like a special treat?" Master asked him.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Would you like to come sleep with me?"  
  
Richie wanted to say no and curl back under the covers to hide until three on Wednesday. "Yes, Master."  
  
"Then get up."  
  
Richie got to his feet and trailed behind Master out of the room, past where the mortals slept huddled together under a blanket and into Master's room. He waited for Master to get settled then moved to his spot at the foot of the bed.  
  
"Not tonight. Tonight you sleep with me."  
  
Richie obediently got into bed next to Master, who pulled him close and held him tightly. The next morning, Master was served breakfast by the mortals and Richie stayed by his side, taking the offered bits of food. Richie was then ordered back to sleep while Master got breakfast for the children. As soon as the door was closed, Richie got out of bed and pressed his ear to the door. After a few minutes, he could hear the prayer being recited, Tessa's soft French accent noticeable. She didn't sound hurt or scared, so Richie's worry for her diminished a bit. Once his curiosity was satisfied, he got back into the bed and closed his eyes, willing light sleep to come.  
  
He must have dozed off because the next thing he knew he was being gently shaken awake.  
  
"Baby boy," Master said softly. "I have a surprise for you." Richie rolled over and opened his eyes. Master stood with Tessa at his side. "I brought you someone to play with. So make room for her." Richie obediently scooted over, but turned his back as Tessa got into the bed next to him. "Looks like someone is playing hard to get." Richie mumbled something. "What was that, baby?"  
  
"I can't," he repeated. "I won't." He gathered up his courage and got out of the bed, turning to face Master. "And you can't make me."  
  
"Excuse me?"  
  
Richie stood up as tall as he could and tried to look tough. "I said no."  
  
"Do you remember what happened last time you said no to me?" Master asked, a slight edge to his voice.  
  
"I don't care. Nothing you do will change my mind."  
  
"What if I told you that you are grounded unless you do as I say."  
  
"I'd say I'd rather be dead than your whore."  
  
"Richie?" Tessa looked up at the boy who not one day before was scared to death of the violent man he was now standing up to.  
  
"Boy, you listen to me. I will not tolerate this kind of disobedience," Master growled. "You will do as you are told. Now get into bed."  
  
"No." Richie shakily stood his ground. "I won't do it."  
  
"If I have to tell you one more time..."  
  
"You'll what?" Richie challenged. Ten years of use and abuse came rushing down on him. Ten years of 'Come to my room, boy' and 'I am your Master' and mindless obedience coupled with an order to sleep with the woman who was the best mother he had ever had pushed him over the edge.  
  
Master skirted the bed and towered over the boy. "I will give you a beating you will never forget."  
  
"Is that all?"  
  
"Who do you think you are?"  
  
"You said it yourself," Tessa spoke up standing on the other side of the bed. "He is the end of you."  
  
"Now you are poisoning the others!" Master slapped him across the face. "Just wait until I get you back home. You will rue the day you ever said no to me."  
  
Richie's face twisted oddly. His bottom lip jutted out, his nose wrinkled in concentration, his eyes flashing with anger. Before he knew what he was doing, he pounced on the man throwing wild punch after wild punch. Not soon after that, he was pinned to the floor getting beaten and screamed at by an older, bigger, stronger and meaner immortal.  
  
"Leave him alone!" Tessa screamed pulling at Master's collar. "Don't you hurt him!"  
  
"You asshole! I hope you rot it hell!" Richie screamed trying to defend himself.  
  
"I am your master and you will do as I say!"  
  
"Fuck you!"  
  
"Stop it!"  
  
"You must obey me!"  
  
"I hate you!"  
  
"I own you!"  
  
"Get your hands off him!"  
  
Master was still beating Richie, who lay beneath him crying and shout obscenities and Tessa was screaming at pulling on Master to get him off Richie when two of the three froze mid-move.  
  
Through the blood and tears Richie smiled. "You're grounded."  
  
"You stay put," Master ordered, shoving Tessa off of his back and quickly leaving the room, locking the door as he went.  
  
"How could you be so stupid?" Tessa scolded gently cupping Richie's chin to get a look at the healing cuts and bruises on his face. "He could have killed you."  
  
"It was worth it." Richie shrugged her off. "Do you think that's Mac?" he asked struggling to his feet and going to the door.  
  
Tessa followed, not missing the little bits of quickening healing his various wounds. They both put their ears to the door, trying to find out what was going on in the next room.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
After securing his acquisitions, Master took his sword from its place on the desk in time for the door to open and three immortals to enter.  
  
"Aren't you the clever ones?" Master muttered. "You stole my boy," he said louder.  
  
"You took him from me first," Duncan returned. "You had him kidnapped from my doorstep."  
  
"I had no one kidnapped; I simply bought a boy that was brought to me."  
  
"I don't care about the logistics. I'm here to take my family home," Duncan spat.  
  
"I'm afraid I'm here to take back what is mine."  
  
"Then we have a problem." Duncan drew his sword.  
  
"Where are they?" Conner asked from a few feet behind Duncan.  
  
"Put away for safe keeping."  
  
"Where are they?" Duncan demanded advancing on Master.  
  
As soon as Tessa and Richie could hear the voices clear enough to know what was going on, they started pounding on the door and yelling for help. Sean and Conner moved to get them out. Hearing the dead bolt turn, Tessa and Richie stepped back. Their rescuers came in with a bag of clothes that were quickly handed out.  
  
"What happened to you?" Conner asked, looking at the drive blood on Richie's face, chest, and arms.  
  
"I said no," he said proudly.  
  
"Good for you," Sean smiled at him. "Are you okay?" he asked Tessa.  
  
"I'm fine."  
  
"Do you want to talk when we get back?"  
  
"There's nothing to talk about." She buttoned the blouse they had brought her. "He's a monster and has to be stopped."  
  
"Mac's gonna kill him right?" Richie asked.  
  
"Stay away from them," a shaky voice ordered from the doorway. "They're Master's prisoners."  
  
"Get outta my way," Richie groaned, trying to push past the mortal boys.  
  
"Master said you are to stay in here."  
  
"I don't care."  
  
"Master told us to..."  
  
"Get in here," Conner ordered the mortals drawing his sword. The boys didn't move, but stood like a deer in the headlights.  
  
"Move it," Richie added impatiently.  
  
Finally, the two moved into the room. Everyone else got out and locked the door promising to be back in a few minutes.  
  
Duncan and Master were fighting a fierce duel in the main room. They were pretty evenly matched, neither had the upper hand on the other.  
  
"Can't you help him?" Richie asked Conner.  
  
"Just wait. Let Duncan handle this, lad."  
  
As far as Richie knew, since Master had Duncan backing across the floor it meant Duncan was losing. But Conner, being the experienced swordsman, saw that Duncan was simply gauging Master's abilities and looking for a pattern or definite fighting style. And then it showed itself...Master's weakness, he had very sloppy underhand blocks. Duncan forced his way back across the floor then went in for the final attack. He sent a blow aimed for Master's left leg, then switched half way through the move and hit him behind the right knee, sending the immortal to his knees. Duncan kicked the other immortal's blade out of his hand and positioned his own at Master's throat. He widened his stance and prepared himself to make the fatal cut.  
  
Richie stood, holding his breath, waiting to see what his subconscious had dreamed about for years. What he didn't understand was why Duncan was taking so long. The few times he had witnessed a beheading it had been quick and almost an afterthought. Duncan seemed to be debating something.  
  
"You know you want to," Conner said drawing his own sword and putting it at Master's throat. "He deserves this more than anyone."  
  
"It's against the rules," Duncan protested.  
  
"Two against one is against the rules," Master agreed, none too comfortable with two blades at his throat.  
  
"You be quiet; you don't get a say in this matter," Conner growled pushing his blade into the skin of Master's throat.  
  
"Conner, I fought him."  
  
"And?"  
  
"It's my fight to finish."  
  
"But you are fighting on behalf of someone else."  
  
"The rules, Conner."  
  
"Did no one ever teach you that the rules don't always apply?"  
  
"Aren't you gonna kill him?" Richie blurted out, worriedly.  
  
Duncan and Conner debated silently for a few seconds then Duncan stepped away from Master and turned to Richie. He turned his sword so the blade was resting on his arm and the hilt in his hand.  
  
"Only if you don't want to," he told the boy solemnly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"It's up to you. Either you kill him or I'll do it." He extended the weapon to Richie. "Either way he dies." Tentatively he took hold of the warm, ivory hilt. "It's heavy," Duncan warned.  
  
Slowly Richie picked it up and stepped back. He had to use both hands to hold the sword.  
  
"Put it down, baby," Master told him sweetly. "You can hurt yourself." Richie ignored him and moved so he was right in front of his target. "Be a good boy and leave the adults to their business," Master told him.  
  
"You can do this, Rich," Duncan encouraged. "Ignore him."  
  
"You aren't allowed to play with that, baby."  
  
"Take your time, Richie, he's not going anywhere."  
  
"Boy, I told you once, don't make me tell you again."  
  
"Shut up," Richie snarled. "You can't tell me what to do anymore." Conner smiled at Richie over Master's head. "I'm not your baby." He changed his grip on the hilt and changed his stance. The only thing he knew how to swing properly was a baseball bat, so all he had to go on was his years in T-Ball. He closed his eyes for a second, blocking out the taunts and encouragements then open his eyes and swung.  
  
It was a clean cut. Slowly a mist started to form around Richie's feet; he hadn't considered what came next. He looked for Duncan but he wasn't where he had last seen him. Instead he was backing away and shielding Tessa with his body.  
  
"Mac?!" Richie called out in alarm.  
  
"It's okay, Rich. Just stay right there. It will be over soon."  
  
"AGH!" Richie screamed out as the first bolts started to force their way into him. It burned like nothing he had ever felt before. No stove, oven, candle, cigar, or hot fire poker had ever hurt this badly. The energy seared his very core, torturing his muscles, organs and senses with white- hot surges of power. Centuries upon centuries of memories and images flooded his mind. His arms moved in short jerks, random spasms in his muscles controlling his limbs. His hands clenched briefly on the sword handle then released it. It clattered to the floor unnoticed amidst the lightshow.  
  
He could hear encouragement that it would be over soon, but couldn't tell from where or who the words were coming from. Slowly the pain subsided and he could catch his breath.  
  
"Rich?" He heard Duncan call. "Are you okay?"  
  
The four others approached the swaying boy.  
  
"Rich, are you okay?" Duncan asked.  
  
"What's wrong with him?" Tessa asked.  
  
Richie made a small pouting noise then his legs gave and he collapsed.  
  
"He's alright," Sean assured everyone, feeling for a pulse. "He probably just got too much power for a first quickening. His system wasn't ready yet. We just need to get him home."  
  
Duncan stooped down and lifted the immortal off the floor and began for the door. "What about the boys?" Tessa asked looking to the room where the mortals waited.  
  
"We'll take care of them," Conner assured her. "You just get that boy home." 


	18. CHAPTER 18

AN: Here it is the final chap. And before I get started on that I must Must MUST give out many many many many many thanks to Lori Belle, my beta and Bev. They were so cool about letting me blab and complain and fuss over my story when they had better things to do. So, THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU!!!! This story would have been crap without y'all's help! *BIG HUGS!!!*  
  
Beta interrupts: Well, it wasn't that much of a hardship...gave me an excuse to use some of my...um...knowledge? That's it. Knowledge. *grin*  
  
***  
  
"Duncan, look." Tessa shook him awake early the next morning. Duncan mumbled and groaned, stretched then opened his eyes. She gestured to the doorway, where Richie lay curled in a little ball under his comforter that he had apparently drug with him when he moved rooms.  
  
"He never ceases to amaze and confuse me," Duncan grinned, shaking his head. "I guess we'd better get him in his own bed again." He got out of bed and picked up the boy who mumbled something and opened his eyes. "What was that?" Duncan asked.  
  
"Put me down," he repeated.  
  
"Why would I do that?"  
  
"Cause I asked you to."  
  
"So? Since when do I listen to you?" he asked as he pushed Richie's bedroom door open.  
  
"Mac...c'mon!" Richie began to squirm.  
  
"What are you going to do about it, tough guy?"  
  
"Tessa!"  
  
"Shut up, you'll wake everybody." Duncan kicked the door closed behind them.  
  
"Put me down."  
  
"Why didn't you just ask?" He put Richie down on his bed. "How are you feeling?"  
  
Richie shrugged. "Fine."  
  
"Then what were you doing in our room?"  
  
"I had a nightmare..." he admitted. "But I'm okay now, really."  
  
"About Master?"  
  
"Yeah, it was like he was in my head. But he's gone now. Is that normal?"  
  
"Completely," Duncan assured him. "Are you sure you're okay?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Are you sure?" Duncan asked with a grin.  
  
"Maa-aac! I'm fine." Richie paused. "Just, could you stay a bit?"  
  
Duncan grinned fondly. "Of course I can stay." He rearranged the bedclothes, tucking Richie in. He could have sworn Richie was smiling up at him.  
  
"Just till I fall asleep." Richie assured him. He closed his eyes, only to open them quickly. "Will he come back?"  
  
"Who? Master?"  
  
"Yeah," Richie almost whispered.  
  
"He's dead, Rich."  
  
"No, I mean in my head."  
  
Duncan paused before answering. "Maybe sometimes. More like you'll notice you can do something you couldn't before. But it's just memories," he assured him. "They can't hurt you. He can't control you."  
  
"Oh, good." Richie settled into the covers, reassured by Duncan's weight pressing down on the bed where he was sitting on the edge. "Good night, Mac." He closed his eyes again.  
  
"G'night, Richie."  
  
Duncan waited until he heard the heavy sounds of sleep that came from Richie before getting up, pausing one last time to check to see if Richie was covered by the blankets and then walked back to Tessa to sleep himself.  
. . . . . .  
  
Conner and Sean had been at a loss for what to do with the two mortal boys after they had cleaned up any evidence of Master's death. They couldn't set them up in a hotel and they couldn't send them back to the island, either. So they had done the only thing they could... they brought them home with them.  
  
They boys were put in the guest room and Sean and Conner shared the sofa bed. That day the boys stayed quietly in their room in a state of shock. Sean decided to give them a day before trying to talk to them. Richie, however, refused to leave them in the room to starve so after dinner he took a tray of food to them. When he opened the door, he found them huddled in the far corner.  
  
"Hey, guys," he greeted. "I brought you some dinner since you didn't want to come eat with us." He held up the tray laden with chicken, mashed potatoes, biscuits and two glasses of water. "We thought you might be hungry." He put the tray down on the trunk at the foot of the bed. After a pause, he knelt down a few steps away.  
  
One of the boys got up, followed by the other and went for the food.  
  
"It's good, isn't it?" Richie said watching the two eat. "Tessa's a great cook." They looked at him while he spoke, but concentrated on the food. "I know you're scared, but you'll see, it'll be better now. Master really was the bad guy. You had lives before him, you know."  
  
"Master is dead," the taller one whispered.  
  
"I know."  
  
"What's going to happen to us?"  
  
Richie smiled. "You don't have to worry about that. These are nice people. They're just going to help."  
  
"Why do they call you Richie?"  
  
"Because that's my name."  
  
"Did they name you? Or did you pick?" the shorter one asked.  
  
Richie laughed. "My mother named me. Almost 30 years ago. My name has always been Richie. Master took that away from me. He took your names, too."  
  
"Master's children don't have names," the shorter one insisted.  
  
"But you weren't always his kid. You had a name before he bought you." They gave him odd looks for that remark. "It just may take you a while to remember."  
  
"How do you know they're nice?" the taller one asked after a minute of silence.  
  
"Cause they're my family. This is where I lived before Master bought me. I was kidnapped from the alley, right out that window." He pointed to the window on the far side of the room.  
  
"Really?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
"Yup." Richie thought for a minute. "Hey, when you guys get done, you want me to show you around? We can't go outside. But this place is pretty cool."  
  
"I have to go to the bathroom," the shorter one announced suddenly, pulling at the straps of Richie's hand-me-down overalls.  
  
"You'll have to ask Tessa to help you with those. I still can't work them."  
  
After that was handled, Richie took the two hesitant mortals on a tour of the loft and store. After that, it was nearly impossible to get the two boys away from Richie. They stuck by him when they weren't hiding in Richie's room, sat by him at meals and the three slept in Richie's king sized bed.  
  
When it came time for Sean to try to talk to the mortals, Richie had to sit in and serve as an example for what they wanted them to do. Slowly, the sessions turned into discussions between the former slaves of memories from The Manor. Sean merely sat back and listened to the three talk, taking notes when he needed to.  
  
It was harder to get the mortals to turn against Master and remember their original lives than it was to get Richie to. At least Richie was in a familiar environment, with familiar people and they knew his name already. It took a week to find out one of their names.  
  
It happened after the three had gone to bed. They were lying awake talking about a movie they had just watched.  
  
"And then Eric had to go and..."  
  
"My name is Eric," a soft voice to Richie's left cut him off.  
  
"What did you say?" Richie asked sitting up.  
  
"I think my name is Eric," the taller one said.  
  
Richie smiled in the dark. "That's great!" He shifted to the boy on his right. "What about you? Any ideas?"  
  
"No."  
  
"That's okay, we'll figure it out."  
  
Three days later the shorter one decided that his name was Jordan. Duncan ran a search through the missing persons' database and came up with 300 matches combined. He, Conner and Tessa took turns sorting through them until they came up with a few matches. The cases they found had happened before Richie's disappearance and because they were mortal they had each aged over twelve years, from small boys to young men. They presented Eric and Jordan with the possibilities. They read over the reports and each found one that sounded familiar. Eric was from Virginia and Jordan, Illinois.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
One day, Sean sat down to have a talk with Richie.  
  
"You have made all the progress I can help you with," Sean said. "From here on out it's just getting used to normal life again."  
  
"You mean no more little talks?" Richie asked.  
  
"Only by phone. There are a lot of people who need my help right now."  
  
"Like Eric and Jordan?"  
  
"Exactly. Thursday, Conner and I are taking Jordan and Eric back to the island."  
  
"You're leaving?"  
  
"I've contacted some colleagues that can be trusted and they are going to help me rehabilitate everyone we can there. Hopefully we can send the mortals back home to their families."  
  
"What about the immortals? What's going to happen to them?"  
  
"Some may be able to get teachers and return to society, others may live out the rest of their lives on the island. There's no telling how long some of those children have been there."  
  
"Are you gonna stay there?"  
  
"For a while. From what I can tell, it was a self-functioning society. Hopefully it can remain that way."  
  
"You're not going to kill any of them are you?" Richie asked hesitantly.  
  
"Why would you think that?"  
  
"I don't know..."  
  
"There has to be a reason."  
  
"Conner," Richie admitted. "He wanted to kill me."  
  
"Conner just wanted to make sure that we didn't keep you here against your will. He didn't want you to live for a hundred years scared of what was going to happen to you and wondering why you were taken from Master."  
  
Richie pondered it for a minute. "So you won't let him kill anyone?"  
  
"He doesn't want to. "  
  
"Good." Richie nodded. "So... You're really done with me?"  
  
"Richie, you survived almost three days with Master trying to take you back and you resisted; isn't that proof enough that you're done with me? And if that isn't, look at what you've done for Eric and Jordan. You're fine, Richie."  
  
"No more nightly talks or stupid journal assignments?"  
  
"Well, I do suggest you keep up the journals on your own for a while. But as far as the talks go, if you feel that you need to talk and you don't want Duncan or Tessa, you can call me. Other than that, we're done."  
  
"Seriously?"  
  
Sean smiled. "Seriously."  
  
"I'm cured?"  
  
"As much as you'll ever be."  
  
Richie grinned broadly. "Awesome!"  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Early Thursday morning, everyone gathered in Tessa's workshop to say good bye. Richie, Eric and Jordan huddled behind Conner's SUV to say rather long winded and private good byes. The three had bonded quickly and the idea of never seeing each other again was a bit over whelming. Once the boys were done, it was everyone else's turn.  
  
Sean handed Richie a wrapped box. "Don't open it until your first night at your new place," he told him. "And if you ever want to talk, you just call; got it?"  
  
"Yes, sir," Richie answered looking at the box in his hands, wondering what was in it.  
  
"Take care of yourself."  
  
Next in line was Conner.  
  
"You listen to Duncan, lad," he warned. "Or he may call me to straighten you out." Richie nodded. He was still very intimidated by Conner. The older immortal leaned in and whispered in the younger man's ear. "But don't you make it too easy on him. I warned him he'd end up with a student as stubborn and obnoxious as he was. Make an honest man out of me."  
  
As he leaned back, Richie smiled at him. "I can do that."  
  
After the good byes were done, Eric and Jordan slowly got into the back seat.  
  
"I bet you'll go home soon," Richie assured them. "Sean will have our number. Make sure you call when you get home. We can e-mail each other." The boys nodded before Richie closed the back door.  
  
Conner and Sean got in the front seats and Duncan opened the large gates to the alley. Then they drove away.  
  
Tessa, Duncan and Richie headed back into the loft.  
  
"Are you ready to go tomorrow?" Duncan asked Richie, putting an arm around him.  
  
"I guess... how'd you find this place again? It's Sean's?"  
  
Duncan smiled. Richie asked the same question every time the subject was brought up. At first they thought it was Richie's way of saying he didn't want to go. But he genuinely seemed to like to hear the short explanation. As if he just wanted conformation that he was going.  
  
"Back in the late eighteen hundreds, people were just starting to venture out as toward the west. Sean and his wife at the time decided to go along and see what was there. They made it as far as what is now eastern Oklahoma before they decided to settle. They picked out an area and Sean started building. His wife, I think her name was Samantha, was a great cook and would cook meals for whoever was willing to take a day or two and help Sean build the one room cabin. And slowly other people started to build around them, a few miles to either side."  
  
"What about the well?" Richie interrupted.  
  
"That's right, I forgot that part," Duncan smiled at him. "There was this natural spring, just yards from where Sean and Samantha built. And they would stop travelers that they saw and offer them water for their journey. Not much, but some for each family. When people started settling around them, they would ask to use the spring as well. Some people paid them in one form or another and most got to use it out of charity. But slowly the small group of settlers formed a small town. And since Sean and Samantha's spring was a well known stop on the journey west, they named it Charity Springs."  
  
"And that's where we're going."  
  
"And that's where we're going," Duncan agreed with him.  
  
"Is the spring still there?" Richie asked.  
  
"It got turned into a well about seventy years ago. But it's still on the property."  
  
"So..." Richie prompted the rest of the story.  
  
"So, Sean has been faking the death of his former identities and passing the property along by inheriting it from himself. Only this time, we get to inherit it."  
  
Tessa stood off to the side watching and listening. While Richie wasn't the submissive child he had been when they first brought him home, he wasn't his old self yet, either. He still loved to be tucked in and told stories. He was highly affectionate and still submissive. But to the outsider looking in, his submissiveness seemed nothing more than manners and old fashioned politeness.  
  
That was why they had chosen the small Oklahoma town to move to. It was still old fashioned in its ways and young people addressing their elders as 'sir' or 'ma'am' was commonplace. Children were expected to obey their parents and elders and for the most part did. Richie, everyone guessed, would fit right in.  
  
The town was also small enough that even if he went shopping with Tessa at the busiest time of the busiest day, Richie would not be too overwhelmed. It would be a good starter town for him to be reacquainted with society. He could go to town when he wanted to be with people or could wander the eight thousand acres of land they now owned when he wanted to be alone. The latter was what Richie was most excited about. Having been kept indoors for the majority of ten years, the idea of simply wandering around on his own seemed to be the most important thing on his mind.  
  
They talked about their plans until Richie, who hadn't been to bed yet since he had stayed up all night talking to Eric and Jordan, decided to go to bed. He kept the door open a crack and left the bathroom light on, keeping the room softly illuminated. His bed felt so big and empty now that he had it to himself once again. He tried bunching the covers and extra pillows around himself, it helped a little, but not a lot. Telling himself to get used to it, he closed his eyes and slowly drifted to sleep.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
"Duncan, I just thought of something," Tessa said suddenly as she and Duncan worked on packing up the store the next day. Richie was upstairs sorting laundry.  
  
"What's that?"  
  
"Angie and Gary. We haven't told them we're moving." Duncan paused and looked at her. "What are we going to tell them? The truth isn't an option."  
  
He thought for a minute. "We can call and tell them that the police found Richie's body and we're moving."  
  
"What if they want to come over?"  
  
"Then we give Richie a book, put him in our room with a drink and a snack and tell him to be quiet."  
  
"I don't think he'll like that very much..."  
  
"He doesn't have a choice. Hopefully, we can discourage them from coming over."  
  
As it turned out, Angie and Gary insisted that Duncan and Tessa visit them. They didn't want to force them to entertain in a house they could barely stand to live in.  
  
"Are you sure you're going to be okay?" Duncan asked Richie for the fifth time as Richie watched them get ready.  
  
"I think so," Richie answered. He had started out insisting he was fine, but Duncan's repetition was making him nervous.  
  
"Why don't you open it?" Tessa asked changing the subject and gesturing to the box Richie was holding.  
  
"Sean said not to open it until we moved."  
  
"What do you think it is?"  
  
"I dunno."  
  
"Maybe it's a new journal," she teased sitting next to him on the bed. "And a set of pens."  
  
"Knowing him, it probably is," he groaned.  
  
"Okay." Duncan turned around and looked Richie in the eye. "We'll keep this as short as possible."  
  
"Alright."  
  
"What do you do if an immortal comes?"  
  
"Which they probably won't," Tessa added pointedly.  
  
"The gun is in the left hand drawer of the hutch under the spare table cloth," Richie told Duncan.  
  
"Do you remember how to load it? Maybe I should do it for you, just in case."  
  
"You will not," Tessa told him.  
  
"It's okay, Mac, I remember."  
  
"If an immortal comes what do you do?" Duncan asked again as Tessa lead him out of their room and down the hall.  
  
"Get the gun and take Tessa's car to St. Monica's," Richie answered following.  
  
"And when you get there?"  
  
"Call you on your cell phone."  
  
"Number?"  
  
"867-5309."  
  
"And if he gets too close?"  
  
"Shoot him."  
  
"And?"  
  
"Don't take his head."  
  
"Alright." He finally seemed satisfied. "I'll call you when we're on our way home and before you notice me get close. So you'll know it's me."  
  
"Okay."  
  
Duncan took a deep breath. "Okay, we'll be back soon. Lock the door."  
  
"Are you sure he'll be safe?" Tessa asked as Duncan opened the door for her.  
  
"He should be," he told her.  
  
Richie watched as they pulled away. He turned on all the lights in the loft and put Austin Powers in the DVD player to distract himself until they got home.  
  
***Duncan and Tessa drove to Angie and Gary's house. The ride passed quickly as they tried to finalize what they were going to tell the couple about Richie. They decided to go with simple. His body was found by a hunter who's dog led him to the shallow grave in a seldom traveled woods. The body was identified by dental records and the authorities had contacted the MacLeods. No new evidence had been found as most of it had decomposed by now. They decided to tell them that they had the body cremated and that they had scattered his ashes into the ocean.  
  
When they got to the house and out of the car, Tessa reached for Duncan's hand and squeezed. She took comfort from him before they walked up to the front door. Angie must have been watching for them because the door opened immediately and the two women hugged each other fiercely. Angie started crying, her husband standing behind her with a sad, helpless look on his face. Duncan looked back. He didn't know what to do either.  
  
Eventually they made their way inside. Angie had prepared a simple but hearty meal. Tessa and Duncan revealed their story slowly, answering Angie's questions and remembering the time before Richie had been taken. The meal passed quickly for all and at the end of the evening, Tessa gave Angie one of Richie's prized possessions. He had handed it to Tessa before she left; it was his way of saying good-bye to his closest friend without being able to contact her. "Here, Angie, he would want you to have this."  
  
Angie took the friendship bracelet she had made him nearly twenty years before with tears in her eyes and hugged Tessa, then Duncan, one last time fiercely. "I'll miss you, but I understand. Gary and I have been talking about doing the same. Seacouver just has too many memories for us. It's time to move on."  
  
"You'll be fine," Tessa reassured her. "Richie wouldn't want you to be sad. He'd want you to remember how dashingly handsome, funny and brilliant he was," she said with a smile.  
  
Angie managed to smile, just a little and stood back from the doorway. "I'll miss you."  
  
Duncan and Tessa said their good-byes and walked back to their car. They slid into the seats and buckled up. Duncan started the car and pulled out of the driveway. The ride home seemed much longer than the ride to the house.  
  
They found Richie in front of the TV, waiting for them. They told him of the night and Duncan sympathized with him over the hardship of saying good- bye to people you care about. It was one area that Duncan knew exactly how Richie felt having done it many times before.  
  
All three of them were fairly melancholy and went to bed almost immediately after. Their new lives would start in the morning.  
  
***written by Lori the beta because SC couldn't think of anything 


	19. EPILOGUE

EPILOGUE  
  
*Charity Springs, Oklahoma*  
  
"Cows," Richie repeated for the eighth time in forty minutes.  
  
"Yes, Richie. Cows," Duncan groaned. It was dark outside and he could barely see ten feet ahead of him. The young immortal in the back seat had gotten bored two hours ago and was taking it out on the other passengers.  
  
"Is that it?" Tessa asked pointing at a gap in the fence ahead.  
  
"I think so..." Duncan slowed down and angled the car toward the sign above the entrance. "That's us. The triple D."  
  
"What's the name mean?" Richie asked from the back seat.  
  
"You'll have to ask Sean."  
  
As the drove down the little winding road to the ranch house they began to notice a small mass moving in front of the door. As the got closer they saw that the 'mass' was several cars parked outside their house and the 'moving' was the people chatting around them. When the car headlights hit the group, they all squinted into the beams then started waving cheerily.  
  
"What's going on?" Tessa asked.  
  
"Who are they?" Richie added scooting down in his seat.  
  
"Hello, neighbor!" a well built older man greeted Duncan as he got out of the car. "I'm Charlie Matthews. Live just to up the road to the east."  
  
"Duncan MacLeod." The shook hands.  
  
"We were just thinking that it was getting late and we should come by tomorrow when you pulled up," a woman added. "I'm Denise Matthews."  
  
"Nice to meet you."  
  
"This is Jeffery Baker, his wife Elli and their son, Tim. They lease some of your west property." She introduced another couple and their son who appeared the same age as Richie did. "And George and Marina Lewis and their daughter, Connie. They live across the road a few miles down."  
  
"Um, nice to meet you all," Duncan said with a smile. "This is Tessa and Richie."  
  
"We just came by to offer to help. George and Marina just moved back themselves so we've had lots of practice. Where should we start?"  
  
Looking at the moving vans in front of the house, the MacLeods took their neighbors up on their offer. With everyone's help, all the furniture and boxes were placed into the house, not unpacked, but at least Duncan could return the moving van in the morning.  
  
After thanking everyone for their help, the MacLeods prepared for bed using the clothes in the suitcase they had prepared for the first night when they knew it'd be hard to locate anything. Tessa talked Duncan into planning a 'thank you' cookout for the neighbors as soon as they moved in.  
  
. . . . . .  
  
Just as everyone had expected, Richie settled very nicely into the small town. Everyone had been curious about the new inhabitants and leasers of the Burns' land. At first, Richie was shy and hesitant, preferring to watch from the sidelines than join in on the mingling. Slowly, he started to join in and made friends with Tim from down the road. Richie used Tim as a model on how teenagers behaved and began to mold himself to fit in.  
  
"You got a dog?" Tim asked as the two drove his beat-up truck around the property patching the fence where needed.  
  
"No. We didn't have room for one in Washington."  
  
"Well, Finker's mate," he jerked his thumb out the back window at Finker the sheepdog who was sitting in the truck bed. "Just had a whole litter. If your dad says you can, you get first pick."  
  
Duncan gave him permission to get two...Richie came home with three. Copper, Tucker and Jenny. Tucker and Copper instinctively did what they were bred to do; they helped Duncan with the few head of cattle they had and when that was too boring, went to help Tim's dad. Jenny attached herself to the house, preferring to spend the days with Tessa as she worked on her art on the back porch that they had turned into a natural light studio. The only time Richie really spent with the dogs was at bedtime. They ignored him during the day but insisted on sleeping in his bed at night. Only when Richie started helping Duncan and Tim's father did Copper and Tucker realize he was more than a space heater.  
  
"Looks like the pup finally found his master," Jeffery laughed as Copper trotted happily beside Richie's horse, Harley, as they road back to the barn.  
  
"Took him long enough," Richie mumbled looking down at the dog. "You get any closer, you're gonna get trampled," he warned. When the pup got tired halfway back, Richie got off Harley and picked the dog up before mounting the gentle mare again. Copper rode on Richie's lap the rest of the way home.  
  
After that, Copper became Richie's constant companion; staying by his side when he wasn't herding livestock. He would trot by his side as he did his daily chores, sit at his feet while he ate his meals, go over to Tim's house with him, ride into town in the back of the truck to run errands and wait for him loyally when Richie went somewhere he couldn't go.  
  
Duncan began training Richie in the barn when there was bad weather and on the back corner of the property when the weather was nice. It took Richie a few sessions to understand new lessons, but once he learned them, he knew the moves by heart. He practiced diligently and improved quickly. If there was one good side effect from his years with Master, it was that Richie strove for perfection and approval.  
  
"You're doing great, Rich," Duncan praised him one day after training. "You're a natural."  
  
"Thanks," Richie grinned back.  
  
"You know in a few years you'll be besting any immortal that crosses you."  
  
"I doubt that."  
  
"You'd be surprised. I've seen swordsman come and go... you're not going anytime soon."  
  
Richie wrote in his journal once a week and showed no signs of regression. One day he got an e-mail from Sean with an update on what was happening at the Manor. He and his colleagues had begun deprogramming the children and were in the process of finding out names and where they were taken from. The older children were resisting the treatment and Sean speculated that these were immortals that had been on the island for hundreds of years and perhaps would never recover.  
  
"Richie~  
  
How did you like your present? I thought that you deserved a souvenir of your time on the island. Duncan tells me you have been doing well in your training and are quite the swordsman. He doesn't brag easily, you know.  
  
I'm glad to hear you are adjusting well to your new life. And you finally got one of the dogs to pay attention to you, congratulations. Don't worry about your lack of inhibition. It is natural for you to still be comfortable naked in front of other people. You just have to remember that others are made uncomfortable by it. You have a good head on your shoulders (if you'll pardon the expression) and will be able to make yourself aware of this slight issue.  
  
We are having some problems here, though, I'm afraid. As far as our findings tell us there are several children here who are older than Conner and some are even older than myself. I'm afraid I may not be able to keep my promise to you and not let anyone take their heads. These particular children may be beyond help. They have accepted that Master is dead, but have now decided that I am their master.  
  
While ideally we would just leave them on the island, there are too many risks. If an immortal were to somehow come across the island, who would protect the children left behind? And if we left a guard for them, what would keep them from taking advantage of the situation?  
  
Normally I wouldn't mention such things, but since I made you a promise, I feel that you have a right to know. Not all the children will make it off the island alive. I'm sorry. But there really is no other option.  
  
On the plus side, we seem to be reaching many of the children and a good portion have made it to acceptance. Eric and Jordan have been helping and both have made substantial progress. We'll be sending them home soon. They are both very excited.  
  
-Sean."  
  
Richie replied.  
  
"Sean-  
  
I guess I understand. It's a hard position to be in and you can only do what's best. While I'm not too fond of the idea, who am I to tell you how to do your job? I know you'll do the right thing.  
  
As far as the naked thing goes, I guess you missed the part where it was a dream. I do not like the idea of Tessa or Mac seeing me naked. It's bad enough I know what Tessa looks like under her jeans, I don't want to relive it!  
  
I actually bought a new journal today. I filled up my old one. I'm in the habit now and it felt weird not having something to write in.  
  
Tell Eric and Jordan congratulations for me. I know how they feel. And send my e-mail address with them. Or give it to them now; I'd love to talk to them again.  
  
Oddly enough, I forgot about the 'gift' you gave me. I laughed when I opened it. Mac got kinda mad and Tessa just stared. I don't think they get it. But I have it on my dresser. I keep spare change in it so when Tim comes over it doesn't look so out of place. Plus it's like the old life merging with the new. LOL. Now you got me spouting that stuff off!  
  
TTYL! Richie"  
  
After he hit send Richie looked across his room at the sippy cup filled with coins on his dresser. It was just like he had told Sean. His old life had merged with the new. And he was making what he wanted out of it.  
  
THE END!  
  
AN: THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS YOU SENT. ENCOURAGEMENT DOES A LOT TO BOOST A WRITER'S MORALE. I HOPE YOU ALL ENJOYED AND WILL CHECK OUT MY FUTURE FICS. NOW ONTO "REUNION AT THE HILO VILLAGE"! (sequel to University Love) 


End file.

Highlander, Drama