CUT

Greg - So what do you think, you think you can take it?

Jonathan - Sure.

Greg - Oh yeah? Let's go.

[Greg puts on motorcycle helmet, kickstarts dirt bike, then zooms across dock, jumps opening over the water, & lands on floating platform. He stops, takes off helmet, and watches as Jonathan attempts to follow him. Jonathan dumps his bike into the water. Greg smiles and walks to edge of platform, watches Jonathan struggle.]

Jonathan - Help! Greg... damn you, help me!

Greg - Are you afraid?

Jonathan - I'm going to drown!

Greg - Are you? What's it feel like?

Jonathan - Greg-- [goes under the water]

Greg - [when Jonathan surfaces again] Tell me, do you feel it in your gut? [laughs] Tell me, what's it like to die? [tires of watching Jonathan struggle, uses boat hook to pull him to platform, then drags him up out of water]

Jonathan - You son-of-a... [coughs]

Greg - Hey, {doc}! Johnny! Yeah!

Jonathan - You crazy mother.

Greg - Come on. [reaches to pull Jonathan to his feet]

Jonathan - Get away from me!

Greg - What's your problem?

Jonathan - Get away from me! I almost died, you son of a bitch.

Greg - Would I let that happen to you? [laughs again]
 

RR - I cannot believe that we are turning down front-row standing-room-only tickets to this country's most souped-up road monsters in the ultimate battle of motocross supremacy that I personally -- me, Richie Ryan -- scalped at fifty bucks a pop, to look at some... pictures.

DM - I'm meeting an old friend.

RR - Ah. Wait, old as in, uh... [makes sword-swishy noises]

DM - Yeah. [imitates swishy noises]

RR - Oh. Well.

DM - Hey, don't worry. We'll be back before the first race.

RR - Well, that I think I can live with. [opens door]

Tessa - [enters] Thanks, guys.

RR - [waits for DM to enter] After you, people.

[The exhibition "STUDIES IN LIGHT AND DARKNESS by Linda Plager and Greg Powers" is still being put together. Photos waiting to be hung, bits of packing material strewn about, etc.]

RR - [looking at black & white photos on display] This stuff is extreme.

Tessa - Extremely violent. They haven't labeled any yet. Which ones are his?

DM - Who knows. I've never seen any of Gregor's work. Didn't even know he was a photographer until he called.

Tessa - This one I could hang in my living room. [examines photo of old man next to boat keel]

DM - Hm, something familiar about it... [senses 'buzz']

Greg - Well, well, well, if it isn't the Highlander himself.

DM - [turns, smiling] Gregor. [They shake hands & embrace.] You haven't changed a bit... except maybe for the fashion statement.

Greg - Well, looks can be deceiving. [looks at Tessa, then back at DM]

DM - Oh, I'm sorry. This is Tessa.

Greg - Hi.

Tessa - [shakes his hand] Hi.

Greg - Nice to meet you. Call me Greg, though. Gregor has such an old-fashioned ring to it.

DM - [continuing introductions] And a good friend of mine, Richie.

Greg - Hey. [shakes RR's hand]

RR - Nice to meet you.

Greg - Nice to meet you.

Tessa - Uh, we're going to look around.

Greg - Have fun.

RR - Excuse us.

Greg - [to DM, as Tessa & RR walk away] Nice. Do they know?

DM - What do you think?

Greg - [laughs] You were always one to lay it on the line.

DM - Yeah. Where the hell have you been?

Greg - Here... there... everywhere.

DM - So, uh, when did you start being a photographer?

Greg - Well, I've been playing at it for quite some time, now.

DM - [laughs] I'd say you've been doing a little more than playing. This is a high-profile show.

Greg - Yeah, somebody must've made a mistake, huh? What do you think?

DM - [looks at photo of woman standing in doorway] It's beautiful.

Greg - It's not one of mine. This is. [leads DM to other side of display]

DM - [looks at photo of two punks fighting while several others watch] Oh, this is yours?

Greg - You don't like it.

DM - Oh, no, uh... it's just a little dark for my taste.

Greg - Yeah, well, I'm just showing it like it is, you know?

RR - Yo, Mac! Mac, come here. Check this out. Look at this. Hey, Greg, I bet this one's one of yours, huh?

Greg - No.

RR - No? You're kidding.

[DM looks at photo of himself carrying child out of burning building.]

Tommy - Mommy! Help! Mommy!

[DM, coughing, makes his way through flames & smoke, up stairs toward child's voice.]

Fireman - Get the ladder over the top there!

[Distraught father & older son stand nearby.]

Mother - My little boy is in there!

[DM dodges falling burning beams, kicks open door, finds small boy inside.]

DM - It's all right. It's all right. Come here. I'll take that. [takes toy truck from boy, sets it aside] Okay... what's your name?

Tommy - Tommy.

DM - Ever play hide-and-seek?

Tommy - No.

DM - No? I'll tell you what... We're going to play a little game. [wraps his jacket around boy's head] You hide like that... [picks boy up] And I'll try and get us out of here. [makes his way out of building, burns hand on stair railing on way out]

Mother - [distraught] Tommy! Oh, my goodness! Oh, baby! Oh! Oh, God, are you okay? [hugs Tommy] Oh, sweetheart.

DM - He'll be all right.

Mother - Oh, thank you. Thank you.

[DM walks over to fire truck & puts burned hand into bucket of water.]

Young Linda - [who has been taking photos of DM's rescue] You should have someone take a look at that hand.

DM - I will.

Young Linda - You can tell a lot about a man by his hands.

DM - Is that so? [splashes water on face]

Young Linda - I'm Linda Plager. Why'd you do that?

DM - Do what?

Young Linda - Run into the burning building.

DM - Because that's where the fire was.

Young Linda - Very funny.

DM - What are you, a reporter?

Young Linda - [holds up her camera] Freelance photographer. You know, crime scenes, fatal accidents, star divorces, who's doing what to whom and how often.

DM - The more gruesome the better.

Young Linda - Hey, everybody's got to be somewhere. C'mon, don't you want to be a hero?

DM - Ooh, no thanks. [walks away]

Young Linda - What's with you? [follows DM] It's what people want to see.

DM - Because that's all you show them.

Young Linda - Oh, maybe I should try and sell the editor pictures of flower vases, kittens playing, freshly baked pies.

DM - Your camera sees what you want it to see. You could shoot hope or despair, garbage or flowers. It all depends on where you want to spend your life. [off Linda's look] Right. [walks away again]

Young Linda - Hey, wait up. How come you know so much?

DM - How come you don't?

Young Linda - Oh, wait, wait. [takes photo of firefighter by burning building]

(resume previous scene)

[Firefighter photo, now on display. Linda, much older now, walks past photo & sees DM.]

Linda - Duncan? [DM turns, looks at her.] It's you. How did you find me? Where have you been all these years? [to nurse] This is Duncan MacLeod. The one I told you about.

Nurse - Now, Miss Plager, this is a young man. [to DM] I'm terribly sorry. It's her medication.

Linda - [with spunk] I'll medicate you in a minute! This is Duncan. Without him, I'd still be shooting garbage. [to DM] You never mind her. She'll call an ambulance if I sneeze. We have so much to talk about--

Nurse - You know what Doctor Reichman said about wearing yourself out... [leads Linda away]

Linda - I'm telling you, that's Duncan!

Greg - [to DM] You know Linda Plager?

Tessa - That is THE Linda Plager?

Greg - Oh, yeah.

Tessa - I've only seen her work in books.

Greg - She's the real thing, man. This show is for her.

DM - [dazed] I never thought I'd see her again.

Greg - Wait a second... this means that you're her long-lost benefactor. [indicates photo of DM at fire] And all this time I thought you were at the right place at the right time.

DM - I just had no idea...

Greg - Oh, she's a big deal, man. All of her work's going to be worth a fortune in a few weeks.

DM - Why?

Greg - Well, the old lady's dying.
 

Greg - This stuff excite you, MacLeod?

DM - [distracted] What was that?

Greg - Never mind.

DM - I'm sorry, I was just thinking.

Tessa - About Linda?

DM - Yeah.

Tessa - Are you going to tell her?

DM - Tell her what?

Tessa - That she was right about you.

Greg - Why would he want to do that?

Tessa - Because the woman is dying.

Greg - That's right. What's the point? She's gone on this long without knowing. [DM & Tessa both give him a look.] Of course, I'm just playing devil's advocate.

DM - I don't know what I'm going to tell her. [shrugs] But I have to tell her something. [to Tessa] I'll see you at home. [kisses her, turns to Greg] See ya. [leaves]

Greg - He really cares about you. You're both lucky.

Tessa - Yeah.

Greg - Must be hard, knowing that you'll keep getting older and MacLeod, uh... I mean, tell me, how do you handle knowing that one day he's going to watch you grow old, wrinkle, and then die... and eventually move on to somebody else?

Tessa - Were you born sensitive, or did you have to study?

Greg - Hey, come on, I didn't mean anything by it. I'm just curious, that's all.

RR - [walks up] Hot dogs for everybody! Have a dog, Tess. Enjoy a dog. It's on me.

Tessa - I think I'm going home. Uh, I'll see you later, okay? [leaves abruptly]

RR - Hm. That was weird.

Greg - Ah, well, she's a woman. You know what I mean, Richie?

RR - Yeah, tell me about it.

[Linda stands looking at photo of DM at fire.]

Nurse - Miss Plager?

Linda - Hm. I'm sorry -- I was on another planet. [moves closer to photo -- Nurse follows] Would you stop hovering... I'm fine. [inhales sharply in pain]

Nurse - Miss Plager, what is it?

Linda - Nothing. [labored breathing] Maybe I shouldn't have spoken so soon. [inhales again] I think I'd like to go home, maybe... and rest... a while... [collapses to her knees]

Nurse - Call an ambulance!

Greg - I don't know. I just don't know. ¹

[Linda, in bed, opens her eyes, sees DM standing by bed.]

DM - Hi.

Linda - Hello... I feel like such an idiot. I realize now, of course you couldn't be... [pauses] I'm sorry... I seem to have trouble catching my...

DM - [takes her hand] It's okay.

Linda - Your hand is strong. It reminds me of his. That's what I first noticed about him. He burned one of them in a fire. You're related to him, aren't you?

DM - [nods, holding back tears] Yeah.

Linda - Did he ever mention me?

DM - Yes, he did. CUT

Linda - It's because of him, of what he taught -- to look for the light instead of the shadows. CUT I never realized how much he meant to me... How much I loved him.

DM - He knows.

Young Linda - It's over.

DM - Why?

Young Linda - Because I love you.

DM - [sarcastically] Oh, that's a good reason.

Young Linda - Don't you understand? You've made me see that I can be something more than a sleazy photographer. That my work can move people... inspire them.

DM - This is bad?

Young Linda - No, it's not bad. It's wonderful. But I can't handle you and my work at the same time.

DM - I'm not asking you to.

Young Linda - You don't have to! Just having you around kills my concentration. Whenever I see something beautiful, instead of thinking, 'Where's my camera?', I think, 'Where's Duncan?'

DM - You don't have to choose.

Young Linda - Yes, I do. If you don't leave right now, I may never be able to ask you again.

DM - Whatever you say. [picks up jacket, walks to door]

Young Linda - Why do I think I just made the worst mistake of my life? [runs after him] Duncan--! [reaches up to kiss him]

DM - [gently pushes her away] I can't. [leaves]

Young Linda - [to herself] I'm going to make you proud of me.

(resume previous scene)

Linda - You look just like him. It's uncanny. My parents died so long ago... I have no children. Does it seem funny for an old woman to want someone to be proud of her?

DM - [softly] No.

Linda - If only--

DM - He's very proud of you. [emotionally] I'm very proud.

Tessa - So you didn't tell her?

DM - Tell her what? That eternal life does exist, but not for her?

Tessa - Duncan, how close were you?

DM - Does that matter?

Tessa - No, but you never told her about--

DM - Being Immortal? No. I only told you. [kisses her]

RR - [enters] Hey, guys. [sees them kissing] Ooh. I'm sorry.

DM - That's all right. Where's Gregor?

RR - He, uh, went to run a couple of errands. Listen, um, I'm going to go to the studio and check it out later. Is that cool?

DM - Yeah.

RR - I mean, who knows? Maybe photography's in my future. I'll see you later. [kisses Tessa on cheek]

Tessa - Richie... be careful.

RR - Yeah. Sure. [to DM] Later. [leaves]

DM - [as Tessa stares at door] Is something wrong?

Tessa - Tell me more about Gregor. I mean, what kind of person is he? He just said some things...

DM - He made you feel uncomfortable?

Tessa - He's not the way you described him. And all those pictures...

DM - Well, maybe he's grown a thicker skin since I knew him.

[RR enters, looks around, then is chased around warehouse by person on motorcycle. RR dives over couch, throws various objects in motorcycle's path, eventually trips & falls. Motorcycle stops & engine is turned off.]

Greg - [takes off helmet & leans on handlebars] You can breath now.

RR - [catching his breath] You've got a weird sense of humor.

Greg - Maybe it wasn't a joke. [RR stands up.] It was a test.

RR - A test? What for?

Greg - To see if you were real, or just MacLeod's shadow.

RR - Go to hell.

Greg - [laughs] Oh, Richie, it's too easy to push your buttons.

RR - Look, it's been fun. I'll see you around. [turns to leave]

Greg - Hey, Richie... [holds up helmet] Think you can ride? [tosses helmet to RR] Do you know how to ride a bike?

RR - I don't know... maybe. [puts on helmet, gets on second bike nearby, kickstarts it & rides around warehouse, then stops by Greg's bike & takes off helmet] But I think I can fake it. ²

Greg - Jonathan couldn't hack it. He just didn't have the stuff.

RR - What is this? Some sort of initiation?

Greg - You could say that.

RR - Lead the way, my friend.

[Both put on their helmets and start their bikes. They turn and ride away from the dock, then ride back, up ramps and across water to floating platform. Both land, but RR doesn't stop in time and crashes into stack of containers at other end of platform.]

Greg - Richie! [runs forward] Richie, can you hear me, man? [RR pulls off helmet.] Was that a rush or what? You made it, man. Bet you thought it was over for sure.

RR - Lay off me.

Greg - Come on, what are you pissed at me for?

RR - I could've killed myself, that's why.

Greg - Richie, would I have let you do it if it was dangerous?

RR - [rolls back left sleeve, sees gash on forearm] Oh, man. Ah, look at this.

Greg - You just need a couple of stitches, that's all. Let's go. I don't want MacLeod thinking I'm abusing his best buddy. [pulls RR to his feet]
 

DM - [on phone] Thanks.

Tessa - Was that Richie?

DM - No, it wasn't. I was just checking in with the hospital.

Tessa - How is she?

DM - The same. [RR & Greg enter.] What's going on?

Greg - Well, we had a little bit of an accident, but nothing to worry about.

DM - [to RR] What happened to your arm?

RR - Oh, it's no big deal. I, uh, I dumped a bike.

DM - Dumped a bike? Whose bike?

Greg - Mine. No damage, though.

DM - No damage. [re bandage] That's no damage?

RR - I'm okay, Mac.

Greg - I didn't realize you were the boy's father. [DM gives him a look.] [to RR] Later. [leaves]

[DM grabs his jacket & follows.]

Greg - Richie's arm is fine. Don't sweat it.

<DM - Yeah, but what's going on, Greg? CUT What's with all these games?>

Greg - Take it easy. I think you're letting these mortals get a little too much under your skin. I mean, look at this Linda Plager thing. You're beating yourself up over what's obviously a pretty much cut-and-dried situation.

DM - You, of all people.

Greg - People, MacLeod? Is that what we are? Are we really still people? Are we supposed to care about them? Care about anything?

DM - Well, tell me what else there is if we don't.

Greg - Take a look at me and see for yourself.

DM - So you don't care about anything?

Greg - I'm right here, man. Search me.

DM - What happened to you? Huh?

Greg - Life happened to me, my friend. Eternal life, to be exact. Sort of ironic, isn't it?

DM - I'd call it tragic.

Greg - You think so? I don't know, I feel sort of privileged. I mean, it's a lot easier to get through time without all the crap that humans carry around with them that drag you down.

DM - Oh, you mean things like feelings -- compassion, love -- you've done away with all those things?

Greg - I don't know. It's been such a long time since I checked.

DM - You feel nothing?

Greg - Not even for myself.

DM - That's funny, because... [takes Greg's sunglasses off] I don't believe you. Your pictures are not the work of a man that feels nothing. [hangs glasses on Greg's shirt collar] Don't tell me you don't care about them. ³ [gives him a look, turns, ⁴ walks away] (this is NOT in the DVD version!)

DM - Yeah. Just put him down here. [Men place blanket-covered body in bed of wagon. DM grabs package from wagon & enters large army-style tent.] These are the last of the opium salts from Indian Wells. Ought to do them some good. [Greg looks up from checking pulse on small boy lying on cot.] How's Billy?

Greg - [pulls blanket over boy's face] What am I going to tell Ray?

DM - That you did what you could.

Greg - I watched him die, is what I did.

DM - You don't work miracles, Gregor. You're a doctor. You keep beating yourself up--

Ray - [enters tent] Where's my boy, Gregor? Where's my boy?

Greg - Ray, I'm sorry. I did everything I could.

Ray - No. No, he ain't dead.

Greg - There was nothing I could do.

Ray - He wasn't that sick when I brought him here.

DM - It was cholera, Ray.

Ray - No, no. It was a small fever. You killed my boy, Gregor. You murdered my son!

DM - Let's go outside.

Ray - No! [pushes DM aside, pulls gun]

DM - No!

Ray - [shoots Greg] Oh, my God! What have I done?

DM - Go home.

Ray - My boy...

DM - [firmly] Go home. [Ray leaves.]

[later]

DM - [driving wagon along dirt road] Whoa. [Greg gasps & sits up in back of wagon.] You okay?

Greg - I forgot how much it hurts. What happened to Ray?

DM - I sent him home. I'll talk to the sheriff, tell him it was an accident. [jumps down from wagon]

Greg - I can't go back, can I?

DM - Nope. You're dead to them. It's time to move on.

Greg - I can't -- I can't do this anymore. [DM grabs hat & coat from back of wagon.] Anything I do, they all die. [DM tosses hat & coat on wagon seat.] How do you do it? How do you go through the years? All your friends...

DM - One day at a time. [climbs back up & starts horse moving again]

Tessa - No. I just wish he'd go away. ⁵

[Greg flips through slides on projector - his photos from the exhibition.]

[Keith Scott - "Gallery of Dreams"

Greg - No! [slashes at projector screen with knife]

[Greg continues viciously cutting projector screen.]

[Greg drives up on motorcycle.]

[Greg grabs lid from trash can & breaks door glass.]

[Greg enters gallery.]

[Greg start pushing over photo displays, ripping photos from walls, breaking frames & glass. Nothing escapes his destruction.]
 

[pounding on door]

RR - [into phone] Um, let me call you back, okay? I'll talk to you soon. Okay. [hangs up phone, goes to door] Hello? [unlocks & opens door]

Greg - [pushes his way inside] Where's MacLeod?

RR - Greg, uh... hey, um... He's, uh... He went to the hospital for a few minutes. He'll be right back. Uh, you're welcome to hang out.

Greg - [swings arm at vase on display case, breaking it] I've hung out a little too damn long as it is. I destroyed them all, and I didn't feel a thing. I guess it's true what they say about a life's work. But then again, maybe I'd feel differently if my life was going to be over at some point.

RR - You destroyed... what? Uh, the photographs?

Greg - [quietly] Everything. The photographs, the negatives. And why not? [laughs] Answer me that and you win the playoffs. [moves closer] You don't want to win the playoffs. ⁶ [circles RR] At the edge of the bridge, just before liftoff... fear, right? Then what? For me, nothingness.

RR - Well, I... I guess I don't know what I feel.

Greg - That's because you can feel, boy!

[RR runs for door. Greg catches him, holds him by throat against door.]

Greg - Want to know what it feels like to die?

RR - No. Greg, please.

Greg - I could send you to the grave in a heartbeat, and I wouldn't feel a thing... because I don't know how. [RR tries to hit him. He slams RR against the door, knocking him unconscious, then leaves.]

[Greg enters, hears door close, spins to face DM, who was hiding behind door.]

Greg - You were wrong. I destroyed them all and I didn't feel a thing.

DM - Gregor, this has to end.

Greg - [laughs] But I'm having such a good time. [bends down next to sleeping Linda] Are you having a good time?

DM - Leave her out of this.

[Greg straightens, looks at DM, then erupts into motion, reaching for Linda. DM grabs him & drags him from room, down hall, and into stairwell.]

Greg - [pulls out sword] I guess it's just you and me.

DM - I'm unarmed.

Greg - Variety is the spice of life. [swings at DM, who ducks & takes of coat. DM uses coat to deflect blows, kicks Greg, & moves up stairs to next landing.] Will I feel what you feel, MacLeod? [follows DM out onto roof.] Will I love? Will I hate?

DM - Gregor, I know what you're going through.

[Greg attacks. DM takes a few cuts, manages to grab long piece of pipe as a weapon.]

DM - Don't. [Greg attacks again.] You can learn to live with what you are. [defends himself with pipe, disarms Greg & knocks him down, then picks up Greg's sword & holds it at his throat] You have a choice. You can either die, or you can change, but you can't go on living the way you are.

Greg - [panting] Go ahead. Do it! CUT

DM - [raises sword] Hyah! [swings sword down, but stops it at Greg's neck]

Greg - [looks up] Help me. Help me.

DM - How did it feel, Gregor? How did it feel?

Greg - [barely audible] The pain. The pain. The pain. Help me.

DM - It's going to be all right, my friend. [withdraws sword, pulls Greg to his feet] It's going to be all right. You'll be all right.
 

DM - [sees Linda is awake] How do you feel?

Linda - Like an old photograph... faded around the edges, but the essence of the person is still in it.

DM - [smiles, looks down] It's funny you should say that. [stands, hands her a flat package]

Linda - It's wrapped beautifully. Do you want to turn your head while I tear it to shreds? I was always too anxious when it comes to presents.

DM - Yeah. I remember. [Linda looks at him, puzzled.] Go ahead. [helps her unwrap framed newspaper article: "The Star Dispatch -- DARING RESCUE BY UNKNOWN HERO" with Linda's photo of DM carrying child out of burning building]

Linda - Did your grandfather give this to you?

DM - No. [takes article, sets it aside, sits on edge of bed] You did.

Linda - Duncan?

DM - [holding back tears] Don't ask me to explain, Linda. It's not something you need to understand now. CUT But what you need to understand... is that you've always been very important to me.

Linda - It's not the first time I've imagined this.

DM - No, Linda, it's not your imagination. I wanted to tell you the first time I saw you in the gallery. I'm so proud of you. Always have been. Hey, tell me... tell me you believe me. You have to believe me.

Linda - Even though I never took pictures of kittens and flower vases?

DM - [tearfully] Or freshly baked pies.

Linda - I should never have left you. I was so young.

DM - And beautiful and talented. You still are.

Linda - Thank you, Duncan. [kisses his hand] Oh, thank you so much for everything.

DM - [as Linda closes her eyes & dies] The pleasure was mine. [kisses her forehead]