dr_daniel_jackson | Getting Caught

Getting Caught

Daniel had left Colorado feeling both content and torn. He missed Methos and he knew the older man would laugh at him for being so sentimental. He carried the glock everywhere he went, keeping it well hidden on himself. Even in the museum he kept it in a shoulder holster for fear that his teammates or someone worse might come looking for him.

He'd been in New York for almost two weeks when he started packing up to get ready to leave for Egypt. He'd already sent several boxes ahead and they'd be at his home there by the time he arrived. He packed up the last of Methos' journals in a duffel bag and slung it over his shoulder as he headed out of the museum and headed for the hotel where he'd been staying. He wasn't paying a whole lot of attention to his surroundings and therefore didn't realize he was being followed. He entered the Plaza hotel and made for the elevator which took him to the tenth floor. Stepping out of the elevator, he headed three doors down to his suite and swiped the card to unlock the door. Inside, he set the bag to one side, closed the door behind him and headed further into the room. He had just turned towards the mini-bar when pain exploded in his head and he was out cold.

When he woke, it was dark in the room except for a couple of low lights that weren't clsoe to him. He tried to move and realized he was bound to the bed. What the hell...

"Hello?"

"You know, it's taken me a while to figure out where the hell you disappeared to," came a familiar voice. "I don't like having to track you down, Daniel. You know I'm not a patient man."

"Screw you, Jack," Daniel growled out angrily. "I don't work for you or your government anymore. Now let me go and get the hell out of here before I forget we every had a friendship and I just kill you myself."

"Why Daniel... I think you're angry. Look, just... tell me what I want to know and all of this can stop. You have my word..."

Daniel shook his head. He didn't believe that for a moment. He should have just gone straight to the airport. For a brief moment, he wondered where Methos might be... or what he might do if he found Daniel like this...

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"I didn't kill him if that's what you mean." Methos sighed. He starting to wish he had though.

"And just because that's what he told you doesn't make it truth." he rolled he eyes, as he brought the needle and thread to Daniel's head and started to do the stitches, "Its a classic tactic to make you scared. To submit. Like when someone tells a prisoner not to escape or they'll track them down and kill them. And even if he thinks he can find you, he won't. I've hid from far more skilled trackers than he."

"Killing him would be bad," Daniel said in a half slurred voice. "The big bad General is needed in Washington. Wouldn't do to have him dead." He gave a drugged chuckle but winced slightly as it hurt him to do so.

"If he knows I'm gonna go to Egypt... I gotta find somewhere else to go... I hate it... I like Egypt... only place I really feel at home."

"I was born in an oasis village surrounded by the deserts that would later become Egypt. It's my home too. As much as any place can be. But I adapt. And so can you. Find a new home." He finished up the stitches and pulled back from him.

"How about Bhutan?"

"Never been there," Daniel answered, eyes opening and trying to focus on Methos. "I'm not all that keen on trying to make a new life in a place I've never been; especially if I'm by myself."

"It's not that hard." Methos sniffed, knowing precisely what Daniel was getting at.

Daniel said nothing as he closed his eyes.

"I'll think about it," he finally said quietly.

"There's a bed." he noted, "Lets get you to that, and then you can rest."

Daniel pushed himself to his feet, a stubborn set to his features now as he shook off Methos' hand and made his way to the bed, sitting down and moving to pull of his shoes. When he bent down, though, his head began to throb immediately and he gave a soft cry of pain before he stood again and tried to get hiimself undressed, determined to do it himself. He hated feeling so damned weak. Methos had come to his rescue... wait... how...

"How did you know where I was?" he asked, not looking at Methos but his tone of voice gave off the vibe that he wanted to truth... and he wasn't going tos top asking until he got it.

Methos watched him, as he tried to undress himself, with little success. He was about to come over when Daniel's words kept him in place.

"I..." he frowned, "I followed you here. After I learned you were still here after a week."

"You followed me," Daniel echoed quietly, clothes forgotten for the moment. "You saw him then... what he did to me... that he was following me... and you did nothing to stop it from happening... " he trailed off and blinked back the tears in his eyes. "Why? Why help me now? You still won't stay with me... so why?"

"I was here." Methos scowled, "Watching you from the window. I saw what he did and came as fast as I could!"

He was getting angry, "Stop it, Daniel. I can't, alright? That's why! I don't want you dead, but I don't want some government yahoos catching my scent too! I'm an asshole, but I've never claimed to be anything different!"

"You mention going to some place I've never been before in order to get away from the government. You've obviously been there. Why can't you just go with me and stay for awhile? The government doesn't even know who or what you are!" there had to be some other reason... and then he looked up at Methos slowly.

"You never did explain to me why you carry a sword, Methos," he said quietly. "You're journals don't tell a lot about how you stay alive or how many immortals there are. Something tells me you carrying a sword is somehow tied to why you won't stay in one place very long."

"There's something called the Game. Rather less fun than the name would lead you to believe." Methos sighed.

He approached the bed, arms crossed, "Immortals... we can sense each other. And some like to kill one another. To gain their Quickening. Our... life force, almost. Some might even say our very souls. When one kills another Immortal they gain that. They grow stronger. It's intoxicating, the power of it."

"I try and avoid it all together. I've worked very hard to convince the majority of other Immortals that I don't even exist. I'm the oldest, you see. The oldest living Immortal. There are many who would like the chance to kill me."

Daniel dropped back down onto the bed, sitting there in shock.

"And you all use swords in order to kill one another... I'm guessing that means in order to kill another, you have to cut off their head..." He trailed off and dropped his gaze before quietly asking the next question.

"How many of these Quickenings have you taken?"

"Too many to count." he said, unapologetically. It was what it was, he could do nothing about it.

"But now you don't?" he asked quietly. "You said something in Colorado about hiding from the others of your kind. Can you just quit this Game?"

"I said that I avoid it. Not that I don't. If someone corners me... and running isn't an option, I will fight them." Methos clarified.

"And in Colorado... I wasn't hiding from other Immortals. I was hiding from the Watchers. They track us. Keeps tabs on where we are and what we're doing. I'd been working for them, in charge with researching and finding myself and making sure it never happened."

"And you can't quit the Game. You can't refuse to fight. You'll just lose your head faster."

Daniel listened and nodded slowly.

"I'll rest for a couple of hours and then I'll be on my way and out of your hair," he said softly, "and you can go back to being invisible to these Watchers and hopefully other immortals as well."

"Your trying to make my guilty, Daniel. It won't work." he sighed.

Only it was, a little. Had a tendency to happen with people he cared about... it made him careless.

"I'm, not trying to make you guilty, Methos," he said tiredly. "I just don't want an argument or a fight. Besides, I'm not even coherent enough to play the guilt card with you. But you say enough times that you need your privacy, that you must hide... I know that if you were to stay with me you wouldn't have the anonymity you desire."

Methos clenched his teeth, "Goodnight, Daniel."

He turned and left the bedroom.

Daniel heard him leave and stopped fighting the tears that finally fell down his face. He stood up slowly to finish getting undressed, wincing and hissing in pain as he did so. He moved towards the bathroom but his blurred vision was a problem as he managed to walk right into the door frame, hitting his forehead as he did so which made him cry out; a sound he tried to stifle not wanting it to reach Methos. More tears and he tried to fight them off to move into the bathroom.

Methos heard him. He definitely hear him. He came into the bedroom and stepped close, "What are you doing? Just.. just let me help you."

"I just... I just wanted a shower," Daniel whispered through the tears. "I need the... I need to get the feel of him off of me... please...."

"Okay...okay. I understand." Methos placed his hands on his shoulders and led him to the shower and then helped him get into it.

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