justakidfrombrklyn | The headaches began after he came out of the ice...

The headaches began after he came out of the ice...

To say that a lot of things had changed once he'd come out of the ice wasn't just an understatement; it was practically cruel. The worst part in a lot of ways, though, was the way people treated him: as if the ice had preserved him, kept him exactly as he'd been when he'd sent the plane crash landing into the Atlantic.

It couldn't be further from the truth, though.

He'd died. The water had rushed in, the cold had soaked into his bones, the ice had taken over and he'd died and he'd felt it as he'd died. He'd felt the cold, woken up a dozen times stuck in the ice, unable to move and let it consume him, again and again. He still had nightmares about it, nightmares he didn't share because they were so ridiculous in some ways, debilitating in others.

And then there were the headaches.

He only got them occasionally, a strange buzz beginning behind his eyes and around, his eyes shifting unbidden as if he could find the cause for something that was going on inside his own head. And yet, sometimes it really felt like he could. He'd look around, the feeling exploding inside his skull, and he'd suddenly meet eyes with someone and the feeling would suddenly vanish. Usually, the person in question would blink at him and rush off, which was fair since one of the cardinal rules of walking around a large city was to avoid eye contact unless necessary. He didn't think too much about it until he went back to Europe, back at war again in his search for his lost... friend...

Which was when the buzzing headaches started to get far more frequent.

Sam, the finest companion a man could ask for, had decided to follow a lead in Madrid that Natasha had sent their way (one that would have been set off badly had Captain America's well-known mug shown up) which had left Steve enjoying the sights and snooping around Paris for the time being. Thankfully, there was a lot to see, a lot to investigate, but also... a lot to draw.

Beautiful things to draw.

He was halfway through sketching out a panel of the Arc De Triomph when he felt it there, head lifting from the paper to try and find the 'cause'. This was getting mildly ridiculous...

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"Well... I don't know if it'll help, but people can come back from that kind of thing," Joe said. "Especially Immortals; partially because of the Quickening, and partially because you just have so damned long."

Steve just nodded, because he was actually thinking something along those lines himself, before glancing towards where Methos had disappeared to.

"...on a scale of one to ten, how much trouble am I in with him?"

Joe looked toward the back, where Methos could be heard faintly grumbling.

"Fourish," he decided after a moment. "He's already decided he likes you, so if you get him a beer or a coffee, he's likely to forgive you pretty quickly. Your friend's probably going to get a knife in the kidney, or a bullet in the head next time they meet though."

He winced, hoping he can keep that last part from happening. But he nodded, because he was happy to pay for drinks for the night, for a few nights, to make up for it. While he was all right diving into whatever trouble he could find, getting other people hurt for it was not something he was all right with.

He breathed out, then, thinking a little further, looked over at Joe.

"How do you know so much about it, if you don't mind me asking?"

Joe looked consideringly at Steve for a moment, but only a moment, because if any Immortal needed to know about Watchers, well, fuck, it was Captain America.

"C'mere," he said, waving him over. "Wait-- Actually, put on a pot of coffee, then come over here."

He looked over at the coffee maker, breathed out in relief that it was a regular old coffee maker, and walked over to put some coffee on. He actually made a decent cup of coffee.

When he was done, he walked over and sat down next to Joe.

"So, I'm guessing Adam gave you the rundown on Immortals, but did he mention the Watchers?" Joe asked. Though he suspected he already knew the answer.

That got a bit of an eyebrow raise, but also a shake of his head.

"No."

He considered Joe for a moment, then--

"But there was a young man with a laptop who seemed very interested in what we were doing. Watching, in fact."

That got a laugh from Joe.

"Yeah, they tend to set the new kids on Adam, since he used to be a Watcher himself, and he's generally considered an interesting, if easy assignment," he said. "So, the Watchers. As long as there have been Immortals, there have been Watchers, sworn to observe, record, and never interfere. Though the last part has kind of gone by the wayside, lately."

"So they're... non-Immortals who keep records of Immortals. And I'm assuming..." he glanced at Joe, "you're one of them?"

He leaned back in his seat.

"Is there a purpose to it?"

"To keep a more accurate history of the world," Joe replied. "There are things that happen, truths that would be lost, if we weren't there. And if we didn't do it, nobody would, and doesn't everyone deserve to have their history written?" He shrugged a little.

"Everyone has different reasons, really."

"Then that means, I have a Watcher?" he asked, looking from Joe, to where Adam had disappeared, and back to Joe.

"And... Bucky has a Watcher."

"You, not yet, and frankly I don't know of anyone right now who'd be up to it. There were a few, but, well, they turned out to be HYDRA. And if your friend had one, they were probably HYDRA too. I'll check into it, if you want," Joe added.

"Oh, so you did end up telling him about the Watchers?" Methos said, as he came back out, in clean jeans, and an oversized sweater. He smiled faintly at the coffee brewing, and hopped behind the bar to help himself. "I don't know why you were so surprised, Joe; the Watchers' security is almost as bad as SHIELD's."

"I would appreciate if you could look into it," he said, more than a little anxious for the information.

"Part of what they did to him wiped his memory. The more information we can find out about what happened during all those years he was in their power, the more we should be able to help him."

Joe nodded.

"I'll do that then. And you-" he levelled a finger at Methos "-not one word from you. You're the one who designed the security in the first place."

"In the nineties!" Methos countered. "It was perfectly sound in the nineties! I've offerred to update it, but nooo, they don't want my grubby little Immortal paws anywhere near their precious systems." He rolled his eyes, and drank his coffee.

Steve looked sideways at Adam.

"You really should talk to Tony. You sound just like him."

Joe and Methos exchanged a loaded look, and Methos shook his head.

"Believe it or not, that just makes the prospect even more unsettling."

"I dunno. I wouldn't mind seeing it."

And his eyes were full of innocence, the only hint to his impishness found at the tiniest curl of his lip.

Yeah, Methos wasn't buying it for a second.

"You just want to see the trainwreck."

"You'd also probably get to meet my friend Thor," he pointed out, "and he could ensure the whole visit was safe."

"Now see, that's almost tempting," Methos admitted with a laugh. "It'd still be a trainwreck, though."

"It won't be for a while, though. Because I have to find my friend first. Though if he's here and more than likely following me, that should be... easier."

He sighed a little.

"I wish Natasha was here."

"Your friend is extremely good at what he does. Frankly, I don't think you'l find him until he wants to be found," Methos said bluntly.

Most of the time, Steve had the physique and the winning smile of Captain America, but he generally gave off the impression of a humble, friendly person. In this, however, there was nothing but resolve, tenacity, and the shining beacon of determination that had made him a war hero to his men and to the world.

"He's not the only one."

He closed his eyes before he glanced down at his phone.

"I need to go make a call. If you'll excuse me."

"The roof has the best signal, especially if you're calling international," Methos said. Joe raised an eyebrow at that. Methos just shrugged in response.

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