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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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1,128
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1/1
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12
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Intersection

Summary:

Summary: another Lyric Wheel story (can you see a  pattern in our collaborations?) Methos finds himself confiding in a stranger.
Co-written with Lisa, Duncan's Twin

Work Text:


Intersection
by Diana DeShaun and Lisa, Duncan's Twin

The hospital doors closed quietly behind him. Like everything else in his life, they just slipped out of his hand and were gone in the blink of an eye. He felt like walking, even though his humble home was miles away, even though it was dark and dangerous. That was good, really. He felt dark and dangerous tonight.

If it was true, what some said, that everyone had a prescribed path in life, his was a circle, a circle he seemed doomed to keep circumscribing, always looking, always finding, but then always losing. Yet he never questioned his own existence, never thought about finding an end to that circle. His life was what it was, and, just because yesterday and the day before that and the day before that had been one way, didn't mean that tomorrow would be. It was this ever present optimism that kept him alive, the sure knowledge that somewhere, sometime, there would be a break in the circle, and his whole life would be changed.

After several blocks, he wearily rethought his decision to walk, and headed for a nearby train stop. At the top of the platform, he was surprised to notice that, despite the late hour, he wasn't alone. A tall man in a long trench coat was standing near the edge of the platform, leaning precariously towards the tracks below. Not wanting to startle the man into falling, Luka spoke quietly as he reached out to clutch at a fore arm.

"It's not worth it."

Methos jerked and turned swiftly, startled at the soft voice in his ear.

Luka's breath caught in his throat as he was pierced by an icy green gaze.

With a pointed look at the big hand clutching his arm, Methos frowned, "I beg your pardon."

"I said, it's not worth it," Luka's voice flowed over him like honey, soothing his irritation somewhat. "It's likely to hurt very badly."

"Wha--?" Understanding then amusement swept through Methos as he followed the other man's eyes into the dark pit of the metro tracks. "Ah, yes. Quite right. Thank you." With a tug, Methos freed his arm from the other man's grasp and turned away.

Watching the retreating back, Luka felt a deep need to help. He had often been accused of having an ingrained compulsion to 'fix' things, and now was no exception.

"Hey, you want to get a cup of coffee or something?"

Almost against his will, Methos found himself turning. There was something...compelling about the other man. The eyes that gazed steadily back at him from the handsome face seemed old, far too old for his apparent age and obviously state of mortality. Making up his mind, Methos smiled faintly. "Alright. Thank you again, Mr?"

"Luka. Call me Luka," he said, "and you are?"

"Adam. So, where to, Luka?"

Before he could answer, a train announced its approach, and they both turned to watch it glide into the station. Luka gestured for Adam to precede him onto the train, then stepped inside behind him.

After both men took seats near one end of the empty car, Methos again found himself the object of intense study. With a little chuckle, he said, "Look, Luka, I think maybe I've given you the wrong idea here. Back there at the station, I was just..." his voice trailed off as he realized he had no idea what he had been doing at the station, or even why he was in Chicago at all instead of in Seacouver happily debating grouts and plasters with Duncan MacLeod.

"You were just?" Luka asked, before smiling. "Examining the tracks?"

"Something like that. For what it's worth, I wasn't going to jump--I just have some things on my mind, and I guess I wasn't noticing where I was going." Methos was astonished. Luka seemed like a nice man, a good man, but he didn't know him. He didn't confide in people he *did* know, much less perfect strangers.

"I know the feeling," Luka admitted ruefully. "What's her name?"

"Well, actually *his* name is Duncan."

*****

Time slid by, like it always did, and Methos looked away from Luka's understanding eyes
to notice where they were.

Standing, Methos shoved his hands deeply into his pockets.

"This looks like my stop. Good-bye, Luka."

"My stop as well," Luka smiled, and stood to follow him.

As they stepped off the train, he asked the man at his side, "So, will you go back to him?"

"After everything that happened? I don't think there's any way he'd forgive me or give me a second chance," Methos said, gazing into the distance.

Lightly touching Adam's sleeve, Luka waited until the intense green eyes lighted on him before he spoke, "If you spend all your time waiting for that second chance, for a break that would make it okay, there's always one reason to feel not good enough, but you have to take that chance, Adam. That's what life is all about...it isn't waiting for a second chance--it's taking one."

Methos tilted his head to the side and studied Luka's open face. After a moment, he smiled. "You're right. There was a time when I knew that, but I guess I needed reminding."

A train rumbling up, effectively cut off any further words. For a moment longer, the two men gazed wordlessly at one another, then, with a brief clasp of hands they moved apart, each following the circle of his life.


The end.

**********************

Artist: Sarah McLachlan  
Title: Angel  

Spend all your time waiting
for that second chance
for a break that would make it okay
there's always one reason
to feel not good enough
and it's hard at the end of the day
I need some distraction
oh beautiful release
memory seeps from my veins
let me be empty
and weightless and maybe
I'll find some peace tonight

in the arms of an angel
fly away from here
from this dark cold hotel room
and the endlessness that you fear
you are pulled from the wreckage
of your silent reverie
you're in the arms of the angel
may you find some comfort there

so tired of the straight line
and everywhere you turn
there's vultures and thieves at your back
and the storm keeps on twisting
you keep on building the lie
that you make up for all that you lack
it don't make no difference
escaping one last time
it's easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
this glorious sadness that brings me to my knees