What never will be

[1stmacleod]

Staying just off the Nexus makes it easier to visit, and Connor is tentatively getting familiar with the place. He's been told by a couple of people that he needs to get a PINpoint, and he's learned to reliably find the free bar. He's met a girl who wants to get some sword training from him, which is something to do, and he hasn't felt the buzz of another immortal since his first time here, and that was Ramirez.

He is almost, just barely, settling in.

Then he answers a casual question, and the woman who asked it starts to tell him about the other Connor MacLeod. The one who still has a good friend and true brother in Duncan. The one who still has Alex. And John. And Rachel. An ageless, immortal Rachel.

Connor staggers back to Kairos' house, with a box of chocolates he's supposed to give to his own Duncan along with the apology he's dreading to make. Over the past five years he's mostly pulled his mind back together. He no longer hallucinates, he has enough presence of mind to walk around in public without attracting stares. He remembers to shave at least every couple of days and shower whenever he gets a chance, and he can carry on normal conversations. He's walking a fragile edge, though.
Now his mind is swirling with the stories he's been told of a big happy family with another Connor MacLeod at the boisterous center of it all, somewhere out there not so far away. It's the most wonderful thing he could possibly dream of to know his family is happy and healthy somewhere, and the most agonizingly painful thing ever to know that it's not his family, and it never will be.
He comes into the house and pets the dogs, and puts the box of chocolates on the dresser in the guest room, and sits on the floor beside the bed with his head in his hands and shakes all over for the next few hours.

Comments

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

Her heart really does break for him. Kairos tries to be subtle as she looks at the drawing.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

He opens the folder, tilting it for her to see. That's why he pulled it out, after all. One photo shows him smiling and scruffy, with bangs, up close with a woman with fluffy brown hair. Together they're holding a dark-haired baby, probably almost a year old. There are wedding bands visible. There's something dated about the hair and clothes, something very 1980's about them. The other photo looks more recent, but still not new. His hair is shorter in it, closer to how it would look if he cleaned himself up a little now. He has a blonde woman on either side of him, one slightly sharp-looking, with narrow arched brows and a quiet smile, probably in her thirties. The other woman is in her forties at least, slightly built with smooth waves of pale gold hair, and a neat suit. She's beaming, leaning against him. In front of the trio is a boy perhaps ten years old, with dusky skin and dark hair, and an impish smile. None of them looks related, but they look like a family all the same.
The crayon drawing is two figures playing catch, and the words 'I love you Dab' are across the bottom.

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

"Aww." She gently traces the outlines of the little ball with a fingertip. "How sweet, Connor. Your family is beautiful."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

"That's... John, in both pictures." His voice is still crackling a little. It's pretty safe to assume the picture is from John, too. The paper is just a tiny bit yellow, and there's crease lines from where it was folded twice for a while, but it's only fifteen years old. "He was... the second picture was taken the year before..." He leaves it at that. They were all too young for death, but especially him. "My daughter, Rachel- ah... she's the older one..." Because that's always awkward. In the photo she looks old enough to be his mother. "My girlfriend Alex..." He strokes the older photo with the baby in it, hand shaking. "And my wife, Brenda. We were only married a year before there was a car accident..."

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

There's something to say about Sanctuary's eccentricities. Kairos doesn't blink an eye about children that look older than their parents. Her own mother is in her seventies, though she looks forty. "I'm sorry, hon." She pets him a little more.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

The jewelry pouch sits unopened on his knee, but she may guess at the wedding rings in there, among a couple other items of Rachel's and Alex's.
He stares down at the photos, taking slow breaths. It's both painful and good to look at them, because he never wants their images to fade from his mind. "If they hadn't known me..." To say that would have made them safe isn't technically accurate, because Rachel would have died as a child without him, and John's fate as a baby in an orphanage is impossible to guess at.

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

"If they hadn't known you, they wouldn't have known the love you have for them, and vice versa."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

"Was that worth their lives?" He gives her an agonized look.

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

She's quiet for a moment. "I would have laid down my life for someone to love me, so if someone was lucky enough to have someone love them back, then yes. Even if it were for five minutes, it's better than not."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

A hard shiver runs through him, and he shuts his eyes again. "They deserved someone better... and they deserved to live." There's another shaky sigh, but he's starting to slowly get a grip on himself again. "I'm not... I'm no good, without them. Everything of me that was worthwhile died with them."

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

She can't argue with deserving to live, and she's not even going to try. "You need to live, and live well, to honor their memory," she murmurs. "It's a horrible thing, to live without someone you love. But it's worse to live without someone you love and not try to live for them." If that makes any sense. It sounded better in her head.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

"I've... forgotten how." He tilts his head back against the side of the bed, shaky and drained, but calmer now. "I'd forgotten how even before... they came into my life. I needed them to remind me every day. I'm so tired..."

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

"Then it's good you're here. Safe. Maybe you could remember."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

At first he doesn't answer, just sits with his head tilted back taking slow, shaky breaths. He's not feeling all that optimistic, but he doesn't want to argue. She's too nice to argue with.

"I'm... a tired, bitter old man." He needs a drink. Or maybe a good meal, and some sleep.

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

"I've gathered." It's not a complaint, more an observation. "If I get you your surprise, you must promise not to drink it all tonight. And eat dinner, too." She doesn't wait for him to speak. She just gets to her feet, runs to her studio where she'd stashed it, and returns with a bottle of 1926 Macallan scotch. She presents it to him like one would a new born. "My friend's family likes this stuff. A lot. Hyou lifted a bottle for us." And if Hyou had told her how much that stuff cost, she'd have left it at their overpriced house.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

Aside from rolling his head a little to watch her go, Connor doesn't move until she gets back. His eyebrows lift at the present, although he already had a good idea what it would be. But he wasn't expecting... that.

Connor takes the bottle carefully, and turns it around in his hands, noting the year. He hopes whatever world she got it from is set in the past, or else she's just handed him one of the most expensive drinks in the world. "...Thank you." It's a hoarse whisper, and his expression is definitely stunned.

Very carefully, reverently, he holds the bottle up to the light. She hasn't brought him a glass, and drinking out of the bottle directly would be sacrilege. "Nineteen-twenty-six... Franco became General of Spain... Queen Elizabeth the second was born... Jack Dempsey lost the world heavyweight title, and coal miners all across England went on strike." His tone is thoughtful and very distant.

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

It is definitely from the modern age; other wise it wouldn't be so tasty out of the bottle. It's just that Hyou's wife is literally two times richer than Carlos Slim Helu, and she can't give away the money fast enough. When Kairos had broached the subject to Hyou, he'd grinned and said he had just the thing.

Kairos has a feeling it was expensive, because the d'Casciel Himotos just do not do 'cheap'. But not ... that expensive. "You're welcome. I hope it'll suffice?" She really knows nothing about alcohol.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

Connor's been too out of the loop to know exactly how expensive it is, but he's too well-versed in booze not to have a pretty good idea. This would be why he's treating the bottle as if it were a soap bubble.

"....Suffice?" His voices rasps and cracks almost into nothing, and he stares at her a little, then shakes his head. "Yes, it will more than suffice." He gives the weakest of smiles, but it's a smile all the same.

"Should... should I... make dinner?" He really feels like crawling into a dark cave and never coming out again, but he's mostly over the shakes, and something practical and ordinary might help him pull himself back together the rest of the way.

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

"Mmhm. I can help, if you like. You're certainly not my maid or chef." Pause. "Though I bet you've got the knees for the skirt." C'mon, Connor. Laugh. Please? That smile is a start.

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

"It's called a kilt." The reply is almost reflexive. Yes, yes he did grow up wearing one.

He smiles just a little more, still weakly, and runs a hand through his hair. "Help... would be nice." He very carefully puts the photos and jewelry bag back in his suitcase.

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

She grins at him, crossing her arms. "Yeah. I know. I was referring to a french maid's costume. Last time I saw one none of 'em had clan colors."

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

"Si vous portez un, je vais cuisiner ce que vous voulez." He smirks. "There are limits to my gratitude as a house guest." Connor moves to stand, a little stiff and shaky, still, but willing to make the effort.

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

Oh, Kairos blushes. "Don't tempt me."

"I'm not sure I have your size, anyway. You're a little bigger than me."

"...Did you have anything specific in mind?"

[1stmacleod.livejournal.com]

He's not especially surprised she knows French, but she's got him smiling a little, and that's something to be grateful for.

"...Medium?" Clothing sizes are for people who don't just buy their t-shirts off a stack at Wal-mart. "Nope. Depends what you've got in the pantry." He offers her a hand up.

[kairos-aether.livejournal.com]

Well, she currently lives and grew up in France, so ... it stands to reason :) It's English she's not fluent in.

She takes his hand and pretty much just pops right up. "Thank you. I'm a size 2 or 4, depending on cut. Small. I have to run around in the shower to get wet." She grins and rolls her eyes. "My brother in law calls me Fun Size."

Hm. She keeps a well stocked pantry, so there's gonna be stuff in there. She's just not 100% sure what it is. "Okay..." There might be some spinach, and some chicken..