Bitter and sweet, the taste of the beer filled Methos’ palate. Bitter and sweet, like the memories he kept. Bitter and sweet, like the way it had all ended. Bitter and sweet and heavy on his soul and mind.
The Quickening he had taken would remain with him, even though Silas’ voice was not discernible in the cacophony that probably filled his subconscious.
He had taken so many heads, had seen so many killed! At the time, he had had a freedom that now could no longer be recovered. Bitter and sweet and heavy on his conscience. Gone.
What is it about Methos and beer?
Oh, and like the brother piece "Drink", this drabble was written in response to a challenge at the livejournal drabble challenge community highlander100.