Crossover: Pretender/HL (roughly mid season four Pretender!verse, Seacouver season 3 HL!verse

Characters: Duncan, Jarod, Richie Ryan

For Prompt: 083 Wet

Summary: Jarod’s had a bit of a surprise.

A/N: part of the “sound” series of ficlets. Usual disclaimers apply – I own nothing yadda yadda…

A/N2: I will be revealing the immortal at the centre at some point, but not just yet:)

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Knock knock

Duncan and Richie looked at each other as they felt the presence of another Immortal. Their enemies didn’t usually knock…but then again, neither did their friends.

Warily, Duncan rose, picking up his katana as he approached the door and cautiously opened it.

“You knew what I was. That’s why told me about Immortals. That’s why you didn’t just let me think you were dead.”

Duncan recognised the bedraggled form on his doorstep and breathed a sigh of relief. The rain was really coming down now and the man’s face was obscured by thick rat’s tails of sodden dark hair, but Duncan still knew him. The wind whistled through the open doorway, spraying Duncan with rain. He cringed as the cold water hit him and pushed the door wider to allow his guest inside.

Jarod took the opportunity and hurried inside, quickly soaking the carpet and leaving splatters of weather on the walls as he shook the worst of the rain from his hair.

“What happened?” Duncan asked as he passed Jarod a brandy before taking his coat and hanging it up to drip morosely from a hook.

Jarod glanced uncertainly at the other occupant of the room, but when he saw how easy Duncan was around this new person he didn’t hold back.

“The Centre found me, took me back to Blue Cove. I killed myself when I finally realised why you had told me so much about yourself. It turns out even the Centre doesn’t put too much security on a dead man.”

“Whoa, hold on, wait a second, what’s going on here? Mac who is this guy?”

“Oh, Richie, meet Jarod, Jarod this is Richie Ryan. Jarod and I met last year while you were travelling.”

“Ok, that’s a start. Nice to meet ya.” Richie stood and took Jarod’s hand, clapping him on the shoulder with a sunny smile. There was a squelching sound as his hand met Jarod’s sodden sleeve and he pulled away quickly, rubbing his hand dry on his jeans. “So are you here to train with Mac, ‘cause you know he’s the best around. You’re not going to find a better teacher if I do say so myself.”

Duncan and Jarod’s eyes met. “I don’t need a teacher I just need to know one thing…you said all Immortals are found. We have no family?”

“That’s right.” Duncan said, the old hurt in his eyes mirroring the fresh sorrow in his friend’s.

“So all this time, the people I’ve been looking for, they’re not my parents at all. Kyle wasn’t even my brother.”

“Hey don’t worry about it,” Richie said carelessly. “They’re still your family. They brought you up right? So what does biology matter? My dad was an asshole, but he was still my dad you know? I even managed to follow in his footsteps till Mac got me back on the straight and narrow.”

“Richie shut up.”

“What? Mac? I was just trying to help…”

“Well don’t.”

Richie looked at Jarod and quickly shut up as he realised the older man was on the verge of tears.

“Jarod,” Duncan began, stepping forward and speaking softly. “Whether you still want to look for your family or not after this is up to you, but for now I think Richie is right. You should stay here for a while. You have a lot to learn.”

“You’ve told me all I need to know already.”

“I’ve told you about Immortals and the rules of the game, but you need to learn how to fight. You need to learn what it is to be an Immortal.”

“I’ve been you. I already know.”

“Then show me.” Duncan said, pulling back, his voice harder as he reached for his katana.

Richie stepped between them. “Hang on! Don’t you think that’s a bit hasty for a new guy?”

“It’s alright, Richie. It’s not like that. We’re just going to spar for a bit. Can you lend him your rapier?”

“No need,” Jarod said, smiling. He turned and went to his coat was hanging, a puddle sitting underneath it, and pulled out a katana of his own, the grip wrapped with black cord.

“Whoa…” Richie muttered as he followed them into the lift.

Jarod led the way out of the lift at the bottom, turning to salute with his sword and waiting for Duncan to do the same before he attacked.

Richie had seen Duncan fight before, had seen him close to being beaten before, but he’d never seen him put under so much pressure by someone so young and inexperienced. This guy Jarod had only just become Immortal and yet as he watched he knew if it ever came to it there was no way he could beat him. Of course Mac was older than him - if they had been fighting in earnest Richie was sure Mac would have dealt with Jarod in a second…well, almost sure.

It was all over as soon as Jarod missed an easy hit. Richie could see it plain as day and after seeing how Jarod had been fighting he knew Jarod had seen it too, but for some reason he didn’t take it. He parried and should have stuck Duncan right in the gut, but backed away instead leaving Duncan ample room to stick him instead.

Jarod gasped in shock, slipping to the floor as Duncan pulled the katana free sharply. He stumbled backwards clutching at the hole in his chest as the world was quickly swallowed by blackness.

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Jarod sat up, wild eyed, when he returned from wherever he had been. He had been lying on Duncan’s sofa and looked around to see Duncan pondering a game of chess adding in comments to Richie’s babble.

“Hey you’re back. Drink? I hate the taste of blood.”

Jarod accepted the mug of hot coffee Richie pressed into his hands and sipped at it gratefully though it scolded the inside of his mouth.

“You stabbed me.” He said eventually, fixing Duncan with accusing eyes.

Duncan just smiled. “Hey, you gave me the opening, I just took it.”

“We were just sparring,” Jarod began.

“And how did you think it was going to end? One of us just says we’ve had enough? You don’t get that luxury in a challenge and you can’t afford to get into that habit when you’re sparring either. There can be only one and if you want to survive long enough to have a shot at that you can’t afford to do anything by halves in your training. This isn’t some pretend where you can just scare the bad guy while making sure he’s not in any real danger. You’ve not won until your opponent is on the floor, your sword at his throat.”

Jarod grimaced a little as he stood, stretching to allow his muscles to finish knitting together neatly. “I’ll remember that next time.”

“It’s not about remembering Jarod,” Duncan said with frustration as he rose to stand between Jarod and the door. “This about learning how to kill and I don’t think you’re ready for that.” He paused, hoping for some sign the Jarod understood the importance of what he was saying. “Stay. I can teach you what it means to be Immortal.”

Jarod shook his head sadly. “There are things I need to do. I can’t let the Centre carry on abusing my sims, taking other children. I have to stop it.”

For a moment the tableau held and then Duncan stepped aside and Jarod nodded gratefully, stepping passed him to retrieve his damp coat and slip it on with a shudder.

“Hey, how’d you get so good with a sword so fast anyway?” Richie asked as Jarod opened the door.

“From a book.”

“Seriously?”

Jarod shrugged. “It was a good book.” He turned to Duncan. “I’ll see you again.”

With that he stepped out into the night, the earlier pounding rain now only insistent drizzle that soaked him to the bone.