"Nope. Sorry, but you're Immortal. And I am sorry; it's pretty terrible," Methos added candidly. "Lucky for you, your life is already so strange, this one little thing probably won't make much difference. Probably. Now, I don't really know what they did to you back with all-" he gestured at Rogers' impressive physique; he'd been to the Smithsonian, he'd seen the exhibit, and the difference was like night and day "-this, but when you came out of the ice, you came out different. Again. You died in there, Captain. Maybe more than once."

He shuddered a little, not quite able to suppress it; once, just once, he had been trapped under ice for a whole long winter. After that, Methos had been very careful to stay the hell away from lakes, rivers, and other bodies of water that might trap him.