Say Good-Bye

Heidi McKeon

©1996

Dingle Peninsula, Ireland 2042

Fiona had owned the cottage and its surrounding land for more centuries than she wanted to count. It had always been a retreat for when she needed to get away and reconnect or when her friends needed a safe place to just exist. For Fiona, the past 30 plus years that she and Joe had been at the cottage, she had been more content and settled than she had been in several centuries. Maybe it was the fact that she was happier than she'd been in a long time, maybe it was the healing effect this place had on her, or maybe it was just the love she and Joe shared.

It was hard to believe that it had only been several months ago that they had been in London to celebrate Sarah's 1000th birthday. Joe had been weak then, but no more than usual for a man of 94. He'd stood with them as they celebrated Sarah's birthday, still using the artificial limbs when he could. He still didn't like to be coddled and grumbled anytime it looked like someone was about to do just that. But now, although he was weakened physically, his personality was still the same. The heart attack last month had left him weak and unable to get around for the most part. He'd tried on several occasions to get her to leave him because he didn't want her to see him die. Fiona refused to go — she'd promised him years ago she would be with him for life and she meant it. The love she had for him was as strong now, after 46 years together, as it was when she first fell in love with him.

It was a beautiful day and she wheeled Joe out into the garden to enjoy the sun and warm breezes. He liked to watch her while she puttered in her garden. It reminded him of earlier days when he could help or at least distract her for a while. Which of course, she claimed he did all the time. Joe smiled at the memory and then turned his attention to Fee as she spoke.

" Duncan called today. He's going to come over for a few days next week." She mentioned as she set the brakes on his chair.

"It'll be good to see him again; it's been a while since Sarah's birthday." Joe said wistfully.

"Five months."

"Fee," Joe started quietly, motioning for her to come closer. When she sat next to his chair, he continued, rubbing her hand as he spoke, "Why do you stay with me?"

"You know why, Joe," she told him, kissing the hand that held hers. "I love you, I will always love you, whether you are 48 or 98, it doesn't matter to me."

"Even now, with me so old and feeble and not even able to make love to you anymore? How can you stay?" he asked quietly.

"It's not about whether you can make love to me or not, it's about what's in the heart. And you have permanent residence there. Now stop trying to get rid of me." Fiona had calmed and eased most of the insecurities Joe had over their years together. The one of why she'd stay with an old man never seemed to go away. It was times like this she hated her immortality, she would have loved to grow old with Joe instead of watching as he did and she remained as young looking as she was when they met.

Joe, knowing when he was beat, put his hand to her cheek and gently stroked her face. She leaned in and kissed him, reminding him of the depth of her love. He let her go back to her gardening, while he watched and remembered the first garden she'd put in after they moved to the cottage many years ago.

. Joe woke to an empty bed. He should be used to it by now. Ever since they moved to Ireland, Fiona had changed. Not in a bad way, just different. He couldn't put a finger on just how she changed it was a lot of little things all wrapped together. Joe could count on one hand the number of times Fiona had lingered in bed the past two months. He sat up, eased into his chair and went about his morning routine.

Thirty minutes later, showered and his prosthesis on, Joe went in search of Fiona. When he didn't find her in the kitchen, he checked the other most likely place to find her; the glassed-in room they shared, or at least tried too. Fiona had filled the room with pots of every conceivable size, shape and color. She was waiting for the weather to turn so that she could transfer them outside, although Joe had his doubts about that, if their home in Seacouver was anything to go by. He poked his head through the door expecting to find her up to her elbows in potting soil, but the room was empty. Through the windows he caught sight of her form out in the middle of what once had been a garden. A light rain was falling but she seemed to be oblivious to it.

Joe walked through their favorite room and out the sliding door. "Fee?" He questioned as he headed down the stone path. Sitting next to her, he asked, "Are you okay?"

Fiona turned and looked at him, her eyes bright from unshed tears. She just nodded and rocked back and forth on the stone.

Joe, unable to help himself, wrapped her in his arms and held her. "Do you want to talk about it?" he asked quietly, into her hair.

"I'm not sure. I don't know if I could even begin to put it all into words."

"How about telling me about the garden."

Fiona looked up and smiled — she knew that he would wait until she was ready to talk. Besides he knew how much she loved to talk about her gardens.

"This was a bridge between the two houses. When I built this one, I wanted to link my two homes and a garden was the best way to do that without actually adding on to the original stone cottage."

"What did you grow here?"

"Everything really. A lot depended on what century it was. Sometimes it was just for food and sometimes purely for looks. There were times when I had to hide some of the medicinal plants among the other plants because they were burning everyone they thought were witches. The last century or so though, it's been mostly for pleasure. The beds along the back wall are where I kept the cooking herbs. I had vegetables in the raised beds. The arbor had grapes. The beds circling the center rock here had more herbs. Darius used to say gardening was a tonic for healing. The garden itself was ever changing but the work put into it was the real medicine not the plants grown. I never really thought about it until he pointed it out one time when I was visiting him. Even now, I still miss him; we used to have such good talks."

"Are you going to rebuild it?"

Fiona looked up and smiled at Joe. "Yeah, I think I'd like to."

"Good." Joe paused; he knew there was more but didn't know how to ask her about it. Fiona was a lot like him in that way, she'd talk when she was ready too. "Want some help?"

Fiona smiled at him. "I'd like that." She buried her head in Joe's shoulder and finally let the tears that she'd been holding back flow freely.

The following week, Duncan arrived with Methos and Richie along with him, telling Joe that they were in the mood for a good game of four-person poker. Methos, knowing what Fiona's feelings meant, told Duncan that they all had to come up with reasons to be there. Duncan cooked up the story for the three of them showing up at the same time. Fiona had called their friends and said to come; she had a feeling that Joe didn't have much longer. He wasn't supposed to know she'd made the calls so he grumbled about their home being taken over by immortals, all the while loving every moment of their visits.

Joe had refused further medical treatment saying only that he wanted to be at home with her and not in some damn hospitable. It was typical of him, still playing by his own rules. It was what had gotten him into trouble with the watchers all those years ago and the reason he ended up leaving on his own accord several years later.

They spent the days in the warm sunshine of the garden playing cards and drinking scotch, their stories flowing just as freely as the scotch. In the evening after dinner they would sit and reminisce some more only this time it was about the times they all had shared together from Joe's BBQs, to late evening spent in the bar playing and drinking. Sarah arrived a few days after Methos and Duncan, saying that the boys had had long enough time to play poker and tell dirty jokes without her. She took Fiona for walks in the garden and let her lean on her emotionally. Fee was being strong for everyone else, and really had no outlet to express her feelings. Sarah recognized that right away and took care of her.

Fiona and Joe retired early one night-- as much as Joe loved the company of the other Immortals he tired easy and Fiona didn't want to miss any moments she might have left with him. Joe died later that night curled in Fiona's arms. He had been lying with his head on her chest, as he tended to do now in his later years. She felt his life slip away.

Her silent tears fell on his now white hair until she was able to summon the courage to slip from under his body and tell the others. Fiona stumbled down the hallway to the living room where the others were gathered around the large fireplace. As she walked into the room Methos was the first to notice her tears.

"Fee, what's wrong?" He asked, rising quickly and walking toward her.

"He's gone," she stammered. "Joe's gone."

Methos pulled her into his arms and absorbed her tears as she cried for the man she loved. He motioned for Duncan and Richie to see to Joe, while he took care of his long time friend. When she'd cried herself out for the moment, he lifted her into his arms and carried her into the room he and Sarah were using. Laying her down he covered her with the quilt, and kissed her forehead, willing her to fall into an exhausted sleep, he knew she hadn't been sleeping well and suspected that's she'd lain awake nights, watching Joe as he slept.

Duncan and Richie had made the call for the ambulance to come and take Joe. Joe had left instructions with Duncan and Methos, knowing that Fiona would not be able to handle the arrangements. While Fiona slept, Methos phoned the remaining friends who hadn't appeared. Sarah retrieved the medicine bundle she'd helped Fiona put together that afternoon so that it could be sent along with Joe.

The funeral was a quiet one. His closest friends from town and most of the Immortals who had crossed his path were invited. His remains were cremated, and Fiona, along with Methos, Sarah, and the rest of their friends accompanying her, scattered his ashes along a rocky cliff line, to be carried out to sea by the breezes and the waves. That was the one detail that Joe had left up to her when he made the arrangements. He had known that she would know the right spot to scatter his ashes.

"Go on the waves my love, sing with the siren of the seas. I will never forget you," she said, tears streaming down her cheeks.

Methos tried to wrap an arm around her and guide her back to the cottage. She shrugged it off, wanting instead to stand alone in the winds. Her hair was loose and blowing around her. Methos and Connor watched for a long while as she stood there. She was like a statue against the wind, never budging.

Connor, who had arrived that morning, started to go to her when Methos stopped him. "Let her be for now, Connor."

"She—"

"No. The only thing she needs now is the time to say goodbye. If you know her half as well as you think, then you know that she doesn't want anyone but Joe and she needs to feel that pain in order to live again." Methos' voice softened, "I know you want to take her pain away, so do I, but for as much as we want to, we can't."

"I know, you're right. I just wonder how long it will be before she can be happy here instead of just being a reminder of what she's lost."

Methos nodded in agreement and the two men stood watching their long time friend. Methos patted Connor on the arm and turned to return back to the house. He watched Methos go then closed the distance between he and Fiona. He quietly walked up behind her and wrapped his arms around her, knowing that she needed to draw strength from a friend who knew what she was going through. He was that friend. He had been through it with Heather Soon after she scattered his ashes she disappeared, not even taking the time to say goodbye. No one knew where she was going; a letter to Methos and Sarah said she was leaving and that she would return again when she could face life without Joe.

Finis

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