TITLE: "SKINWALKERS"

AUTHOR: Alison M. DOBELL

FANDOM: "HIGHLANDER"/"WOLF LAKE"

PAIRING: Duncan MacLeod/Tyler Creed

RATING: NC-17

STATUS: New.

ARCHIVE: Yes. Just let me know where.

FEEDBACK: Welcomed

EMAIL: AlisonMDobell@aol.com

SERIES/SEQUEL: SEQUEL to "TIES"

WEBSITE: http://www.carlajane.50megs.com/Ali00.html

SUMMARY: "Duncan leaves Tyler to look after the old wolf. Tyler begins to discover that the past can be an illusion too."

The usual disclaimers apply. No infringement of copyright is intended.

"He's gone."

The eyes flickered open again, yellow irises changing as the wolf flipped back into human form. Tyler looked at the wound with a critical eye. It was deep but not life threatening. The knife buried in his shoulder up to the hilt staunching much of the bleeding. Despite his age the old man was strong. He would survive.

"Why did you do that?"

"She would have killed you." Said Sherman practically.

"You don't even like me so why put yourself in danger to save my life?"

The old man laughed quietly, his crumpled face holding a thousand meanings. His eyes only one. "You still do not understand, Little Wolf."

"Don't call me that." Growled Tyler quietly. He did not try to remove the knife. Once he had Sherman safely inside he would have the wound treated.

"Why did you bring a stranger among us?"

"Duncan's not a stranger. He's my friend."

Sherman raised his eyebrows, watching Tyler carefully examine the wound then straighten to help him to his feet.

"Where did you leave your clothes? We need to dress, get you home, then I'll remove the blade and bind the wound."

"You've changed."

Tyler shook his head. His emotions hard to read because they ran so deep. Spanning two worlds now not one. "No." He said softly. His words mimicking the fall of snowflakes now gently drifting down upon their heads. "You're just beginning to see me through his eyes."

For several moments Sherman Blackstone said nothing. He hissed quietly as he stood up, his eyes not leaving Tyler's. It was almost as if he was looking for something in the younger man. Something he could not find. "That is not the only thing that is changing."

They began to walk slowly, Sherman not allowing himself to be steered in the direction of Tyler's house even though it was the nearest. He wanted to go home. He had potions and herbs that would aid his healing far quicker than simply being bound in bandages so he would not bleed to death. *Ha! Human medicine was so primative*.

"What do you mean that's not the only thing that's changing?"

"Can't you read my mind, Tyler?"

"It's all shadows and shifting lights. An illusion. A lot like you."

Tyler paused when they got to where he had stashed his clothes and dressed quickly then helped Sherman resume until he reached his own hiding place. Both men felt better dressed. It would enable them to move among the thin-skins as one of them. It was too cold for ungulates to be abroad with no fur. The thin human skins were insubstantial though they were more emotionally revealing. An odd trade for such an ancient and venerable beast.

"You cannot win." Said the old man without warning.

"Speak plainly old man."

"We are changing too. We will vote for our new leader."

The young alpha snorted as if the very idea were preposterous. "That is not our way."

Sherman gave a melancholy shrug. "The old ways are changing. We adapt or die. You cannot stop change."

"Soon I will be married to Ruby."

The old man stopped walking so Tyler stopped too. "You cannot bed your way to the top, Tyler."

A flash of anger glittered deep in his eyes. "I was promised."

"By a dead man."

The glitter sparkled briefly then dulled into a dangerous glint. "Are you saying that promise will not be honoured?"

"Who am I to say anything? Just don't rely on Ruby to get you what you want."

"And how do you know what I want?"

"I have known you since you were a cub."

"You hated me then too as I recall."

Sherman gave a humourless laugh. Something dark and veiled stirring in his eyes before he could shift his gaze. His legs moving him forward, Tyler keeping his steps steady with the strength of youth. "Yes. You were an arrogant little shit. Now you're approaching your prime and you're still an arrogant shit. A bully. You mix with scum and I can see your darkness rubbing off on them making them darker still." He paused. Tyler's face was like stone. "Not a pretty sight." He muttered almost to himself then he glanced at Tyler, saw the vein throbbing in the side of his neck where he was reining in his anger. "You remind me too much of myself at your age."

The younger man was so surprised that he almost stumbled.

Sherman laughed. "What? You think I was born old?"

"No, of course not. It's just..." He paused a half second. "I never imagine you were *ever* like me."

"Ah." Said Sherman knowingly, raising his head.

"Ah what?"

Sherman shrugged and hid a smile. "Ah nothing. Sometimes an Ah is just an Ah."

Tyler nodded. Not sure what he was agreeing to but knowing it was better than fighting. He owed Sherman Blackstone his life and whether the crazy old man realised it or not, it was a gift that nevertheless bound him.

* * * * *

The figure watched their slow progress but did not follow them beyond the outskirts of Tyler Creed's domain. Once they were lost from sight he turned and made his way steadily up to the house, his cane making no noise in the soft snow. His feet softly crunching and leaving their mark upon the landscape. He did not creep around, nor peer in the windows, but used the direct approach. He rapped on Tyler Creed's door with the head of his walking stick. Duncan MacLeod threw the door open almost immediately, confirming his suspicion that he was worried about his young friend. The look on Duncan's face made him give a grizzled smile, his eyes amused.

"Joe! What are you doing here?"

Joe Dawson stepped inside and waited for Duncan to close the door fast. "Watching you make a complete fool of yourself."

Duncan's eyes narrowed slightly. "Do not interfere, Joe."

"I am not interfering just anxious for a friend who appears to have lost his way."

"I haven't lost my way."

"There's a headless corpse lying in the snow that might disagree with you."

He winced. Damn. He should have buried her. He was getting sloppy. He turned from Joe and went to get his coat.

"Where are you going?"

"No time like the present. You can either come with me or light a fire."

"Mac, it's snowing out there."

Duncan smiled at him and Joe saw the boy he once was. It was a good face. A face that married strength and honour and caring into a complex duty that spanned centuries. Joe knew. He had spanned them too. "Then it will help to hide the signs of a newly dug grave."

* * * * *

Tyler Creed did not like leaving Sherman at the old man's house. True. It was a beautiful place but he lived alone and even with the expensive musical system that seemed to permeate the very walls with its' mellow acoustics it was still an empty place. Or maybe it was just him? Sherman's house reflecting the hollow in his own heart and soul. He shook the fanciful thoughts from his head and gave the old man a suspicious look. Was he messing with his head? He would not put anything passed him. The old man made a lot of faces and a few soft grunts and groans as he eased the knife out of his shoulder. There was a lot of blood once the metal plug had been removed but Tyler was ready for it and had a pad placed over the sucking wound almost immediately. Before he could bind it the old man placed a hand over his and shook his head.

"If I don't bind it you'll bleed to death."

"I can look after myself."

"So I see," Sneered Tyler. "Do you always catch knives like this?"

"Don't worry."

"I'm not worried..." Tyler broke off, surprised to find that he *was* worried. "You still never told me why you stepped in to save me or why you were following me in the first place."

"Who says I was following you?"

"Then what were you doing there?"

"Following a woman with a sword."

Tyler raised his eyebrows and considered the old man anew. People often overlooked how sharp Sherman was. His misleading and rambling dialogues serving to obfuscate and confuse rather than illuminate what was going on inside his head. Just what the old man wanted to achieve. He was the ultimate con artist in a world bereft of the more subtle illusions. What illusion was he weaving now? "You could have dodged the knife, let me die." He said quietly.

"Oh, it wouldn't have killed you. You would have been injured certainly, your death was not her intent."

"It wasn't?"

He shook his head. "No. If it was we would not be having this conversation."

Something cold touched Tyler's heart. Was he saying what he thought he was saying?

Sherman nodded. "Yes. She would have killed you."

"Did she know you were there?"

"Yes."

"Why did she throw the knife?"

"To distract your friend."

Tyler closed his eyes momentarily in pain. Duncan. This was all about the Highlander. He was just incidental. And he had left his friend alone and unprotected at the house. As if reading his thoughts Sherman shook his head.

"He is fine. In no danger now."

"How do you know that?"

He shrugged. "Okay, I don't know but it sounded like something you would want to hear."

Tyler glared at him. Sherman laughed then disolved into a fit of coughing. Concerned, Tyler looked anxiously at him. "You should see a doctor."

"I *am* a doctor or had you forgotten?"

Tyler said nothing. He had hundreds of memories of this man. Irritating, mildly amusing, often baffling. Sometimes he seemed so wise, so cognisant. At other times he could believe he had escaped from an asylum for the criminally insane. But then, that was what some people said about him.

"You are very quiet, Little Wolf."

He shook his head but the thoughts lodged inside would not budge. He kept feeling he was missing something. "You said marrying Ruby would not change anything?"

"No. I said you could not expect to get what you wanted through Ruby."

He frowned. What was he missing here? "I *will* marry Ruby."

"If you say so." Sherman nodded slowly, briefly closing his eyes as he did so. Somehow it made Tyler think the old man was humouring him. Unless.

"You said the leadership would be decided by a vote?"

"That's what I said."

Tyler thought about another time. A long time ago now. A time that had left bitter tracks inside him that had left him vulnerable. Helped the taint spread unchecked. A taint he could only now glimpse in retrospect but still could not recognise as being part of himself. The turns and twists of a changed nature. "My father was killed at a leadership contest. My mother never got over it."

"Your mother was a beautiful bitch."

He gave Sherman a sideways look. "If Willard hadn't taken me under his wing I don't know what I would have done."

Again something flickered deep in the old man's eyes but it was so fleeting. Illusive. The shadow of a candle flame had more substance. Sand ran through his fingers before he could count a single grain of it. "You should not look back. You will trip over your feet." He said sarcastically.

"What is it you don't want me to see, Sherman?" Asked Tyler softly.

He thought he saw something like guilt ripple up to the surface of eyes gone grey and sulky like an overcast sky. "It was a long time ago." He said in a voice like a far away wind remembering other days. He was not looking at Tyler but staring off into space, looking at something only he could see. "I was young. Foolish." He raised his eyebrows at the memory, dusted off and aired for this wayward wolf. "Scared."

"What does this have to do with me?"

Sherman snapped back into the present so quickly he almost had whiplash. The boy was too sharp at times, too much his father's son. "Nothing. Everything."

Tyler shook his head. "I have to get back. Do you want me to fetch the ointments and herbs for you before I go?"

He considered the boy before him. The neatly trimmed golden brown beard with a touch of ginger in it could not disguise his youth. Nor the natural grace and beauty he had inherited from his mother. Fastidious to a fault. He was seldom anything but immaculately groomed. His clothes were chosen with care and enjoyed for the quality he craved. He did not care if some of

the older members of the pack regarded him as a model for human vanity. It made him feel good. In control. Ready for anything. It was not so much a part of who he was as who he wanted to become. He clung to his physical props with a tenacity that made the fit skin-tight. He had inherited all of that from her. Sherman tried to see his father in him but was blinded by the beauty of one he had loved and lost. Sad for a past that haunted him still. Made him hate this cub for growing into the man he had become. Young. Untried. Arrogant. Sliding into evil ways for the good of the pack. Or was it just for the good of Tyler Creed? No, he would not believe that of him. Not yet. But evil was evil right? Or was he just getting too damn old? Running out of time?

Tyler frowned at him.

"Are you alright?"

He snapped out of it. "I think I preferred you when you wanted to sink your teeth into my throat."

"Maybe I still do."

That made him smile. Every now and then the boy made him happy. It would be dangerous to get used to that. It was not a coin he could count on. "Good. Now I know who you are. Close the door on your way out."

Tyler nodded and left with a slightly puzzled look on his face. Sherman did not move for a couple of minutes after he had gone and when he did, he went first to the window and peered out. Satisfying himself that he really had gone. He let out a breath he had been holding and shook his head as he silently berated himself. This could not happen again. He had almost said too much instead of too little. If Tyler found out the truth it would raise ghosts that he would not have the power to exorcise. The dead could not be allowed to walk again even to save a man's soul. He sighed and put on some music, the sound soothing him as he prepared his herbs to add to a poultice for his wound. The pain almost gone now. Healing himself in forgotten songs.

* * * * *

Duncan MacLeod was pacing. He had made short work of burying the body and now he was getting tense, wondering what was happening with Tyler and the old wolf. Joe watched him from the fireside, warming his hands on the flames as they licked the logs in the grate.

"You have to let him go." He said quietly.

Duncan stopped short. "That is between me and Ty."

"You are an immortal, Mac. Whatever Tyler is he is not one of us."

The words hurt because they were true but that did not mean he had to let every piece of happiness fall through his fingers simply because it could not last forever. "I know but I haven't felt like this for..."

"Over a hundred years." Completed Joe quietly.

He sighed. He was not really angry with Joe, more frustrated at a life that could exhilerate and give him so much while denying him one of the few things that would make him truly happy.

"This passion," Said Joe gently. "Is a passing fancy. You think you love him, that he could love you in return, but it cannot last."

Anger sparked in tormented eyes. "Do not speak about something you know nothing about."

Joe shook his head slowly. "He has troubles of his own, Mac. You can only add to them by staying."

Just then both heads came up. Someone was approaching the door. A light shone in Duncan's eyes as he recognised his lover's step. His concern fleeing and his heart beating in joyous expectation. Joe saw it all mirrored on his friend's face and knew he would not be able to convince Duncan of anything until he had flushed this lust out of his system. He had meant to

leave before Tyler's return but to do so now would raise more suspicions than he had the time or desire to answer. Duncan crossed the room in a few swift steps. He met Tyler at the door but did not kiss him. Not with Joe watching his every move. He did not want to share Tyler with anyone, even his old friend. "How is the old wolf?"

Tyler nodded. Taking in the stranger standing by the fire and noting the walking stick. It made sense of the tracks he had followed back to his house. "He will survive. The wound is not life threatening."

"Good. I was hoping to thank him for his assistance."

Tyler had been looking passed Duncan at Joe. Now he flicked his eyes back to Duncan's face and smiled at him, his eyes softening quickening the Highlander's pulse so that his breath caught in his throat. "I have already thanked him, Mac. Who's your friend?"

Duncan turned and they both walked over to the fireplace. "Ty, I would like you to meet Joe Dawson." Joe nodded to him and Tyler gave a little bow of the head back. A curiously old fashioned gesture. "Joe, this is Tyler Creed."

"Pleased to meet you, Tyler." Joe glanced at Duncan before fastening his eyes back on Tyler. "Mac has told me almost nothing about you."

His directness made Tyler laugh lightly. It was a pleasant sound. Joe watched the firelight shine its' ambient light on the young man's handsome face. Fascinating. He could see what his friend saw in this man. "There's nothing much to tell." Tyler paused. "Have you travelled far?"

Joe had no intention of telling him how far. A distance that spanned centuries was not for the sharing although he had the strangest feeling that Tyler would not have been surprised and would not have mocked him. "Far enough. I have lodgings in town."

That was news to Tyler. He kept a polite look on his face and tried not to look at Duncan. "You are of course welcome to stay here if you wish."

Joe shook his head. Duncan would kill him if he agreed. No. He had warned his friend and could do no more than that. He was not allowed to interfere even if friendship sometimes blurred the lines between duty and compassion. "Thank you but I must decline. My arrangements are quite satisfactory. Which reminds me I must be heading back, the snow is starting to fall again."

"Would you like a lift?"

"No, thank you Tyler. I find if I exercise my leg it does not get so stiff."

"Then perhaps you will stay for something to eat? Or a drink perhaps?"

"No, thank you."

Joe nodded to Duncan who thanked him for dropping by and hoped he would enjoy his brief stay in Wolf Lake. Duncan walked him to the door. Tyler went into the kitchen and began to rumage through the cupboards for something to eat. A minute later he felt Duncan slide his arms around his waist and kiss the back of his neck. Suddenly food no longer seemed substantial enough to satisfy his appetite. Duncan slid a hand down to rub his crotch, kissing and licking the nape of his neck while his other hand began to pull his shirt out of his pants.

"I was going to cook something for you..."

Duncan shook his head slightly, not wanting to break his concentration as he writhed his body up against Tyler's. His hand flexing on him through his trousers and eliciting a delicious little groan. "Come by the fire, Ty, or I swear I'll take you where you stand."

Tyler closed his eyes, laid his head back on Duncan's shoulder as the Highlander undid his fastenings and slid a hand down to hold and caress him. He began to lick his ear. Tyler opened his eyes and tried to turn round but Duncan held him firm, braced him against the kitchen cabinets and kicked his legs apart. "I have a bed you know, Mac." He murmured.

"Mmmm, and I need you so badly I don't think I could make it that far."

The confession left Tyler breathless, his own lust racing through his body like electric wings. Duncan's teeth on his ear, hot breath fanning his cheek, hand teasing him into a straining erection that battled against the confines of his clothing. A longer groan this time, this one filled with need. Duncan smiled into his neck.

"I think I'm falling in love with you, Ty..."

The words purred down Tyler's spine and made him feel so damn horny.

"Take your shirt off."

Tyler undid his shirt, hands trembling as he got more and more excited but unable to break out of Duncan's embrace to do anything about it. Not that he wanted to break free it was just that he was normally the one in control. It felt erotic to let the other man lead. Duncan tossed his shirt to one side and licked his ear. "Now remove your trousers and underpants."

He did as he was told, the pressure on his cock bringing him up on his toes as he began to slide his trousers off his hips. "Mac, I..."

He loved the groan in Tyler's voice, telling him his control was fragmenting. He snaked his hot wet tongue deep into Tyler's ear canal and felt him shake. "All the way, Ty."

Oh God, there was nothing he wanted more than to go all the way...

* * * * *

END