Yesterdays Gone (A Highlander FanFic)

Highlander: Yesterday's Gone ~ Part 7 "The Darkness Within"

The days passed with some semblance of routine. Morgan and Fenris were inseparable. Following her encounter with Van Art, Morgan never failed to carry her blade again and threw herself into her training with renewed fervor. Either she was working or she was exercising or working out. In a way her mentor was sorry to see it. The first Quickening was, in a way, the real beginning of an Immortal's new life. However, it was also the death of their former self and their innocence alongside their foe.

Martin scowled over the latest pile of NHS paperwork. Not for the millionth time he resented the local Primary Care Trust and it’s fixation with forms. Glancing at his watch he noticed it was almost 8PM and he realised that it was time he was getting home. He yawned and locked his work up in the drawer of his desk, briefly wondering if his student would be about when he got back. He had not seen her in two or three days as he had been working such long hours in an effort to catch up with his duties. One by one the lights flickered off and he locked the outer door before stepping into the street and heading towards the car park. The Immortal had not gone twenty feet before he heard the unmistakeable sound of a fight. At the same time, he caught sight of a large crowd on the opposite pavement and almost immediately after, felt the raw power of a very angry Quickening.

An elderly man hurried across the road, sensing in Martin perhaps someone who could help. “Mr Penwarden!” he gasped breathlessly. “There’s a woman over there… I think she’s not quite right” he tapped the side of his temple.

Martin nodded wordlessly but when the man turned to go he rolled his eyes. He hated the term ‘not right in the head’; it was demeaning and indicated a total lack of understanding the human mind. He followed the man back to the crowd. He pushed his way to the front and stopped dead, staring in horror at the vision of wild fury in front of him. Morgan's black hair was tangled and matted, her body taut like a coiled snake as she crouched over a huge muscular man, curled on the floor and trying desperately to shield himself, with very limited success as the comparatively delicate woman proceeded to beat him to a bloody pulp; and, judging by the amount of blood on the pavement, she wasn’t holding anything back. “Morgan!” The older Immortal’s voice was sharp and clear. It would brook no disobedience.

Morgan turned, slowly rising from her crouching position to her full height. Martin was shocked by the fury that contorted her face and the murderous violence that filled her eyes. With a blood-curdling roar she leapt at him, her hands extended out like claws that tore into his flesh and raked his face. He ducked the first blows and grabbed her wrists. “Morgan! Calm down!” His student struggled with a violence that he had not known her capable of. With difficulty he held her immobile and scanned the crowd for someone who could help him.

Doctor Ashcroft pushed her way through the gawking onlookers. “Hold her still” she said. “I’ve got a sedative here!” She drew out a syringe and, as Martin straightened and pinned his Student’s arm, Ashcroft injected the drug.

Morgan howled her outrage and head-butted the unfortunate GP. She reeled back clutching her bleeding nose. However, the young Immortal showed no signs of passing out and a cold fear swarmed in the pit of Martin’s stomach as he faced the horrifying realisation that she could only have taken a Dark Quickening. “Forgive me Child” he murmured (more to himself than to her) and hurled her struggling body head-first into the nearest brick wall. The momentum drove her head hard into the stonework. A second later, her eyes rolled and she sagged into his arms, unconscious. Just then, a police car came flying around the corner and screamed to a stop. The local PCSO got out of the drivers seat as Morgan's victim staggered to his feet. After a brief conversation, the big man shook his head vehemently and slunk away from the scene with his tail between his legs. His friends would never let him live it down if they found out that he had been beaten up by a woman. Meanwhile, Martin carried his unconscious student back to his car. He laid her in the back seat and swiftly bound her hands and feet with the tow rope he carried in the boot. He regretted doing it, but he could not risk her waking and going berserk. Fortunately for him, she did not and soon he had her locked in her bedroom.