Disclaimer: The characters of Richie, Duncan, Donna and Charlie are owned by Panzer-Davis and others. I am only borrowing them for a time and no profit is being made in this endeavor.

Note: This takes place a couple of days after “Line of Fire” from season 3. Thanks, Alice, for the lyrics.

**********

Richie sighed as he slowly climbed the stairs to his apartment. His ruined apartment. Granted it had not been Park Avenue but he and Donna had been making it into a home before Kern came. Donna. And Charlie. He sighed again. He had known that Charlie was probably not his, but it had been his chance for a normal life. A chance to pretend that Immortality and all it represented could be ignored for awhile. And he had pretended, until Immortality had raised its ugly head and showed him in no uncertain terms that its rules were harsh and unforgiving and not something for the innocent to be involved with.

Reaching his door, he took out his keys and unlocked it, pushing it quietly inward. Standing in the doorway, he stuck his hand around the corner and turned on the light, surveying the mess that was his apartment. The broken window had been boarded over by the superintendent. The slashes in the upholstery of the couch bled stuffing that floated and drifted in the soft breeze blowing through the gaps around the boarded window. The end table was overturned, its leg broken off, and broken dishes, old magazines and junk mail lay in an untidy pile beside it where they had spilled off. His old TV lay on the floor amidst all the other ruin, a boot-sized hole in the middle of the screen. Everything had been ripped off the walls including the curtains, left to lay where they fell.

Taking a deep breath, Richie stepped into the apartment and closed the door. Glass crunched softly under his feet as he moved on into the room. Shrugging out of his jacket, he turned to the kitchen, wondering if he would be able to find the broom and dustpan. Opening the broom closet, he removed them along with a bucket and some cleaning supplies. Resolutely squaring his shoulders, he began the long and arduous task of cleaning up the destruction.

Thirty minutes later, the place was once again looking habitable. He had a sizable stack of items by the door waiting to be taken down to the trash dumpster, including the broken end table and TV. He had swept and mopped and cleaned up as best he could. He had even duct taped the slashes in the couch to keep any more stuffing from escaping and then covered the whole thing with a colorful Mexican blanket he had purchased on his recent travels while MacLeod had been in Europe. Richie thought it brightened the place up considerably.

Grabbing up two bags of garbage, he opened the door intending to take them to the dumpster and felt his jaw drop in surprise.

“Donna!”

“Hello Richie,” Donna said, shooting him a quick glance and then looking away. “Umm....can I come in? I need to get the rest of Charlie’s and my things.”

“Sure”, he replied, opening the door wider and then closing it behind her after she entered. “Where’s Charlie?”

“My mom is watching him for me,” she replied, absently looking around. Shaking her head sadly, she turned to him again. “So.....I’ll just get our clothes from the bedroom. Do you have a garbage bag or something I could put them in?”

Moving past her into the kitchen, Richie pulled one out of the box in the broom closet and handed it to her. “I put anything I found while cleaning that was yours or Charlie’s on the bed.”

Nodding, Donna turned to go into the other room.

“Donna?”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry but the picture frame I bought you got broken.” A second or two of silence passed before Richie continued. “Your favorite vase did too.” Again a few seconds of silence descended. “I’ll replace them”, he offered.

“That won’t be necessary,” Donna replied quietly before hurrying from the room, never once looking at Richie.

Richie stood there trying to decide what to do. He desperately wanted to rush into the bedroom and assure Donna that everything was going to be okay and they would work something out. But he knew that was impossible. He knew he could not guarantee her anything and that he had no business risking her life or Charlie’s, especially Charlie’s. They had the chance for a normal, happy life. One without crazed madmen breaking into your home trying to cut off your head. Or without swords or constantly having to be on guard. In short, one without Richie and the curse/blessing that was his Immortality.

Suddenly Donna reappeared in the bedroom doorway, carrying the half-full garbage bag in her arms.

“Let me carry that for you,” Richie offered as he moved towards her.

Donna tightened her grip on the bag, hugging it close to her chest. “That’s okay.”

Richie paused then asked quietly, “What are you going to do now?”

“I got a room down at the Y. I start looking for a job tomorrow. They have a daycare service there and they will look after Charlie for me while I go job hunting.”

“Do you need some money?”

“No,” she said, a hint of anger in her tone and glittering in her eyes. “We will be fine. Something will work out.”

Richie paused, uncertain how to continue or even if he should. Finally, summoning his courage he began. “Donna, I’m sorry that things didn’t work out. Please don’t give up. Don’t throw your faith in others away because we have ended up this way. You are strong. I know that. And I know that you will make it. I know that you will give Charlie a better life than you had. ”

Richie stopped when he saw her close her eyes and swallow convulsively. Silence once again stretched out between them until finally she opened her eyes again. He saw the sheen of unshed tears before she averted her face. Getting herself under control, she finally looked right at Richie. Dropping the garbage bag she reached out and gave him a swift hug. “Thanks,” she whispered.

Stepping back, she once again picked up the garbage bag.

“Hey, let me carry that for you,” Richie protested.

“No,” she replied firmly. “Now, I really must go because I don’t want to leave Charlie with my mom for too long.” She edged around Richie and walked determinedly for the door.

Richie moved to open it for her. As she started through he touched her arm, bringing her to a halt.

“I know that we didn’t work out. But if you ever need anything.....anything at all.....please call me. I will always be here for you. You know that don’t you?”

When she looked at him, Richie saw determination and acceptance in her gaze. “Yeah, Richie, I know. Thanks for being my friend.” Giving him a small smile, she turned and headed down the hall.

“Good-bye Donna,” he whispered as he watched her walk away. He quietly closed the door of his apartment, leaning back against it, once more alone. And forever Immortal. It was time to stop pretending. It was time to stop dreaming that his life could go back to what it was before he woke up one cold night to the realization that he was like MacLeod. It was time to quit hanging onto his old dreams. It was time to let go.

End


“Surrender”
by Single Gun Theory

Together. As if in silent prayer.
And whenever I looked out, you were there.
Love flowed from our hearts.
How could we ever,
Stand to be apart?

Don’t throw your faith in others away,
Because we have ended up this way.
Don’t ever think I don’t care about you,
What you’ve always known is true.

It always seems sad, things have to change.
Like our feelings, let’s not look for blame.
Don’t throw your faith in others away,
Because we have ended this way.
Don’t ever think I don’t care about you,
What you’ve always known is true.

After all is said and done, I am the sorry one.
Why must we hurt the people we love?
It’s like my destiny falls on me from above.

I love you but I can’t hang on anymore.
I love you but I can’t say anymore.




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