Naked and Alone

Naked and alone only partially described what Duncan MacLeod was feeling when he walked out of that abandoned racetrack concourse.

Shattered and bleeding.

Consumed by an overwhelming anguish that ravaged the space between his gut and his heart.

Devastated that his plea to Methos to put him out of his misery had been rejected. For this was one deed, one tragedy, from which he would never recover.

He didn't deserve to recover.

He had killed again.

.....................................................................Oh, God, Richie...

Student/teacher.

Friend/confidant.

................................................................................son...

And the image of that beloved head lying two feet away from a crumpled body would never fade from the back of Duncan's eyelids/brain/soul.

By his own hand.

The Highlander clutched the glove to his breast. The glove that had covered a hand that had not raised up in its own defense.  "Ah, Richie...why did ye no protect yerself? Why did ye no learn?"  A sob caught in his throat. "Why did ye trust me?" He thrust his fist into the air above his head. "Ye shouldna hae trusted me!"

Hours of wandering. Hours of sensory oblivion. Hours of torment that nothing would obliterate. Hours of a horrible scene replaying over and over and always endng the same. He would never be able to change what had happened. He would never be able to pull that last slice that had cleaved his student's head from his shoulders. He would never be able to see that guileless smile buried beneath all that bravado. He would never be able to tell his "son" how much he loved him. It was over, kaput, finished. "There can be only one" and that One would never be Richard Ryan.

"WHAT HAVE I DONE???!!!"

It was an accident.

You couldn't help it.

You had no control.

How could you tell the difference?

It's not your fault.

As the rain began to pour down, the force of the drops pushed him uncontrollably to his knees. Tears of heaven drenched a lone warrior who had been caught in the middle of a conflict between good and evil. Caught in the middle of something he wanted no part of but had already made a sacrifice to. A warrior who had suddenly lost the will to fight...to live.

A man so naked and alone that he believed that nothing... nobody...could or would pull him out of the depths of his personal hell.