Author’s Note: I know at this late date, sorry doesn’t even begin to cover it, but I am sorry that it has taken me so long. So many things have conspired to distract me…

Thank you to everyone who reviewed, apparently others do think this is an interesting concept…

When he awoke the next morning, Duncan was not surprised that it was to the sound of Methos preparing to leave. He was surprised that the old man was even attempting to sneak out; immortals were by necessity light sleepers.

The ancient immortal looked up as Duncan approached, but quickly dropped his eyes back to the floor.

“You’re awake.”

“You’re leaving.”

Methos let out a huge sigh then, sounding for all the world as if he were a grandfather speaking to a recalcitrant child. “We can’t be together right now.”

Duncan was not put off. “Sex isn’t that important…”

“Not important?!” Methos’ voice was all outraged pride before his whole countenance softened and he continued in a defeated tone, “You can’t even touch me.”

“Methos, you didn’t like for me to touch you before.”

“What?! Of course I did,” Methos had changed again, now attempting to comfort his lover. “I love touching you, pleasuring you…”

“Yes, pleasing me. But I want to please you. I want to touch you and tease you, I want to make you lose control, have you writhing underneath me desperate for my touch and then hear you cry out my name when you orgasm.”

Methos’ eyes had gotten large with bewilderment. Duncan however was not surprised that his lover had not realized that there was a problem. How long had Methos been like this? Had there been no time in his early life when someone had touched him out of love, that Methos had not been suspicious of?

The ancient man sputtered. “I didn’t know you felt that way, Duncan. I could try…what am I saying, it’s too late.”

“It’s not too late, Methos. It’ll just take time, give me that much…”

Methos broke down then, like a man at the end of his rope. The ancient immortal had lowered his head but tears streamed down his cheeks before long-fingered hands covered his face and Methos sank down the wall to the floor.

“I want to, I want to stay with you.”

“Then do,” Duncan whispered. He reached out a hand to Methos, wanting to physically wipe away the anguish on his lover’s face. Methos however turned his face away from the touch.

“Don’t. I don’t want your pity.”

“I don’t pity you, Methos.”

Duncan had only wanted to comfort the older immortal, but Methos’ reaction was a potent reminder that the ancient man was suspicious of all physical contact…and perhaps for good reason.

The Highlander didn’t want to ask, didn’t want to know. What little he had seen of Methos’ most recent experience already haunted him, but he knew that Methos needed to talk about it. And Duncan knew that he couldn’t afford any more misunderstandings.

“Can you tell me what happened to you?”

The question was left open-ended on purpose. Duncan didn’t know whether Methos would tell him about Cassandra’s kidnapping or the ancient past…if Methos decided to tell him anything at all as Methos was currently looking up through his eyelashes at the younger immortal, as if surreptitiously measuring Duncan’s trustworthiness.

A decision was apparently made as Methos began to speak, still not looking at Duncan openly.

“It wasn’t the pain, I couldn’t even feel…” Methos’ voice trailed off and the ancient man chanced a glance at Duncan’s face as if willing the other man to understand without further explanation. Duncan nodded encouragingly, the word ‘disassociation’ coming to him.

Methos’ eyes returned to the wooden floor before he continued. “But then…I felt him…and it wasn’t you,” large green eyes filled with tears and Methos’ fuller bottom lip trembled, but the ancient man continued speaking as if afraid to stop as if he would never be able to start again. “I just, I chose you, I wanted only you, only you…”

Duncan was both flattered and saddened by his partner’s words, flattered that the world’s oldest man, this enigma had fallen for him, but saddened that that love had left Methos open to even more pain. And the more that he thought about it, the more that Duncan was amazed that Methos could still fall in love at all.

He desperately wanted to hold Methos, but he restrained himself. Duncan had always preferred showing his love, saying physically what he found difficult to express in words, but right now, he needed to find the right words.

“I’m here, Methos. I’m right here and I’m not going anywhere. I love you and I won’t forsake you and I know you don’t believe me or understand right now, but you will. I promise you will.”

Methos swiped at his eyes with curled hands, an almost eye roll at Duncan’s words. “Need I remind you, Highlander, that you can’t protect me.” The ancient man’s characteristic droll tone was back in place, effectively telling Duncan that the time for emotional heart-to-hearts was over.

Still Duncan’s answer was serious. “But I can be there for you, to help you.”

Methos gave the other immortal a surprised, exposed look, before covering it again in his patented neutral expression. Duncan let it go, assuming that Methos needed a little time to collect himself, to pick up the pieces so he wouldn’t feel so vulnerable. The Scotsman scooted back on the floor, giving Methos enough room to escape back to the couch and the ancient immortal’s book.

Duncan himself moved over to the computer. Methos was attempting to look painfully nonchalant, but the younger immortal could feel the older man’s eyes furtively following his movements. Duncan forced himself not to look over, not to hover over his lover. Besides he had some research to do.

Obviously Methos couldn’t go to a normal therapist and without Sean, Duncan knew of no other immortal psychologist. He would have to rely on the internet and whatever information he might have garnered from Sean’s quickening. As scared as the Highlander was about making thing worse, seeing as he was not an expert, he knew he had to try, and he had an idea about where to start. Tomorrow, he would make reservations from the dojo office.