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You come with the dead who people my dreams

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A headhunter confronts Neal as he walks to an all-night deli for a late supper. He usually eats with Peter and Elizabeth, but tonight they had a date, so Neal sent him off with unsolicited advice and laughter.

The headhunter is good, very good, and Neal hasn't used a blade in a little over a century. He doesn't even carry one anymore, since he works in close quarters with the FBI and, even for him, a sword would be hard to explain.

Neal feels the buzz of someone else before the headhunter does, and Moz turns the corner at a dead run, gun in hand. "You can't interfere!" the headhunter shouts, but Moz ignores him and shoots him in the heart.

"You want him?" Neal asks, lifting the sword. Moz shakes his head, so Neal quickly swings; once he's recovered enough, Moz helps his home.


Neal has pretended to be an infant for several hundred years. Moz thinks he's actually slightly older than Neal, so he takes charge and tells Neal that he'll deal with everything involved with a dead body.

Neal's glad to leave him to it.


The next morning, Neal goes to work like nothing happened. He smiles at everyone, teases Peter about the date, and solves three cold cases about his own alleged work.

The quickening settled easily, shoved down with his teacher and half a millennia as first a slave, then a monster. No guilt, of course. He stopped feeling guilt around Christianity's birth.

But then at lunch, another headhunter attacks. Peter shoots him and hustles Neal away; a few hours later, it's reported that the body is missing. That night, Neal slips his guards (since it was clear that the man was after Neal and no one else) and takes his second head in forty-eight hours.

This time, the quickening doesn't settle so easily. Nor the next. By the weekend, he's killed three more and he knows it's time to go.

He spends the night with Peter and Elizabeth, laughing and soaking up their simple devotion. He could imagine falling in love with them both, already is a little in love. The next morning, Neal tells Peter that he has an errand and he'll see them later.

He doesn't.


Moz has more recent connections, a better grasp of the world now; he helps Neal vanish. Neal goes in the middle of the day, with only the clothes on his back and an untraceable phone, which he uses to call a number only a handful of people in the world have and leaves a desperate message..

I need your help, he says. Please, Uncle.

An hour later, he receives a very brief text: an address. A minute later, two words: hey, kid.

Relief fills him. Methos will take over, will find out why he's being hunted. All Neal has to do now is survive.