Disclaimer: All characters belong to whoever created Xena Warrior Princess and are being used for non-profit entertainment only. The story belongs to me.

He whimpered in his sleep, tossed and turned on the furs that covered the ground, his hands failing slightly at his sides. In his mind, he heard his father's angry voice and then the pain came, the burning arch of pain across his back. He woke up screaming.

***

It was still early morning when Gabrielle was awakened by a foot pressing lightly against her back. "Go away, Xena," she muttered and turned over.

"Get up, Gabrielle," the warrior princess hissed, annoyance clinging to her husky voice.

"It's early," the bard whined and covered her head with her hands.

Xena planted her foot in her companion's back. "Get up."

At the other end of the camp, Joxer sat on a log, watching the raven-haired warrior trying to coax her traveling companion to get out of bed. "Xena," he called out to her and waited until she turned towards him to continue, "you go on. Let Gabby sleep for a little while more."

Ice blue eyes looked at him, turning into small daggers in the morning air. "If she doesn't get up now she won't get up at all."

Under the sleeping fur, Gabrielle shifted, trying to squirm her way out from under Xena's foot without slipping too far out of dreamland. Her strawberry blond hair was sleep mused and knotted in places from her constant tossing and turning.

With a grimace, Xena twisted her heel into the bard's back.

Joxer groaned and said, "Don't hurt her, Xena."

Gabrielle sat up angrily, her green eyes blazing fire at her tall friend. "What?"

"I have to go for a bit. There's a town down the road that I need to check out. Talk of a giant," the woman answered as she stepped away from the unhappy bard on the heap of sleeping furs. She walked over to her horse and began to untie one of the packs.

"Why can't I go?" the blond inquired as she tried to work a hand through her hair. She stifled a cry as her fingers pulled at the knots and tangles.

Xena noticeably frowned at that idea. "It's not a very nice place, Gabrielle. I wouldn't feel safe leaving you there."

Joxer straightened up, his brown eyes gleaming as he adjusted his helmet on his head. "I could come along and protect her."

"Joxer," Xena started and then shook her head before she ended up saying something that she would later regret. The temporary satisfaction she got from shooting Joxer down wasn't enough to make up for the guilt she'd feel later when he was sulking around like he didn't deserve the air he needed to live.

Gabrielle, ignoring Joxer completely, got up and joined the warrior princess at her horse. "I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Xena."

With a roll of her light blue eyes, Xena shoved the pack into her friend's hands. "We're not arguing about this one, Gabrielle. You're staying here with Joxer. I'll be back tomorrow afternoon."

"That's not fair. You're leaving me with Joxer!"

"Don't worry, Gabby, I'll protect you," the young man said smiling one of his goofy smiles as he drew his sword and waved it awkwardly around in the air.

The blond rolled her eyes. "Great, I feel so much better. Xena, please."

"No, Gabrielle. Not this one. Now you just stay put, okay?" Xena swung up onto her horse and looked at her friend. "Don't you follow me. Joxer," at the sound of his name, the young man's head shot up, "don't let her follow me."

He nodded and waved his sword around in the air some more, humming his "Joxer, the Mighty" song under his breath.

"It's not fair," Gabrielle shouted after her friend as the dark haired woman began to ride away.

"Stop complaining. This'll give you a chance to work on those scrolls you've been boring me with," Xena called over her shoulder and then disappeared into the trees.

In a huff, Gabrielle sat down on a log and crossed her arms over her chest.

Joxer watched her for a moment. She was so beautiful. Long, strawberry blond hair and deep green eyes that were as endless as the sea. Her short and revealing clothes showed off to the world her slightly tanned skin and the lean muscles of her body.

"Stop staring at me, Joxer," she snapped at him after a moment and he dropped his head to the ground.

"Sorry," he murmured to his left foot.

***

Gabrielle was already soundly asleep when Joxer carefully lay down on his sleeping furs. It had been a long day for the both of them. Every other minute he seemed to do something to aggravate her and then she'd twist his nose or hit him upside the head.

A gasp of pain escaped his lips as he settled himself onto his back. Joxer pushed the pain back and closed his eyes, praying to all the Gods that would listen that tonight he would be safe from the dreams.

***

Screaming echoed through the halls of a house, burrowing themselves into the heart of a small child who was curled under his bed, praying that someone would rescue him. Then came the hand, the large hand, rough and tanned, reaching for him, grabbing him by the leg and pulling him out from under the bed, away from the safety of the darkness and into the harsh, painful light.

"You're not my son. You're not a man. You're nothing. You're nothing," the voice tore at him, ripping pieces of his soul apart as the strong hand held him in place. "Don't cry. Warriors don't cry!"

Then came the whip, the flash of angry, unsettling pain. The arc of fire that drove him back inside his mind into the place where no one could reach him, the place where everything was good and beautiful and somebody loved him.

The tears streamed down his face, rivers of sorrow and pain, trying to release his feelings of loneliness and vulnerability. The whip slapped against his back again, cutting deep gouges into his back and the boy began to scream.

***

The sound of someone screaming woke her up. Gabrielle sat up quickly, her eyes scanning the shadows playing over the campsite, trying to find the source of the pain-filled cry that had dragged her from her dreams.

Joxer lay trashing in the middle of his sleeping furs, his hands failing wildly in the air, and tears rushing down his face like waterfalls. His face was twisted into a mockery of his usually goofiness, a grimace of hurt, fear, and fire.

"Joxer. Joxer." Gabrielle was at his side in moments, calling his name and trying to shake him awake.

The would-be hero curled into a tight ball and began to cry harder. Strange, muffed words poured from his lips, such quiet whispers that most of them died upon feeling the touch of the night air. "No. Don't. Stop. Please."

The clouds shifted and a ray of moonlight shone down illuminating Joxer's face. He was covered in a shine of cold sweat; his face so tightened and contorted that it was like she was staring at a completely different person. The sight of him looking so vulnerable, so hurt and broken, stilled Gabrielle, it tore at something in her heart and soul, like a black snake twisting around and crushing her until she couldn't breathe.

"Joxer, please wake up," she whispered into his ear, trying to hold back the tears that threatened to make their way down her cheeks.

Slowly, he calmed down. His eyes opened, big brown eyes that were puffy and red from the sobbing. Eyes full of pain and misery that started to fade the moment he saw her. "Gabby?" he questioned in a voice thick from sleep.

She placed her hand on his head. "You're burning up with fever."

"Gabby." He shook his head and shifted away from her, his face pulling into a grimace as his back brushed against the ground.

But it was too late to discourage the bard, she had already fetched a cloth and was busy pouring cold water onto it. She knelt before him, running it over his face. The fever continued to burn. "Joxer, take your shirt off."

Weakly, he shook his head.

"Joxer!" she snapped. "I have to get the fever down. Take your shirt off."

"No," he muttered and stood up, leaning heavily against a tree. He only managed a couple of steps before he collapsed.

Gabrielle hurried to his side, staring into the pale face which had gone as white as death. "Let me help you," she pleaded, the cloth clutched in one of her hands, her bright green eyes full of fear. In her soul an unidentified emotion stirred.

Exhausted, too taxed to resist her wishes anymore, Joxer quieted down and let her remove his tunic. He had been trying to protect her as much as himself. He didn't want her to know. She didn't need to know.

"Gods!" she cried out as the clouds shifted again, casting a long ray of light down upon the bare chest and back of her friend. Old white scars transversed the flesh of his shoulders, chest, and arms. His back was covered with bloodied whip marks that looked like red roses on the snowy plain that was his skin.

Tears filled her eyes, angry tears. Who could have done this to him? Joxer could be annoying but he was one of sweetest people she had ever met. He rarely gave anyone trouble. How...?

"I went home to Corinth," Joxer murmured into the near darkness, his head down, his brown hair shining with perspiration.

"What?" she stuttered, too shocked by the sight of the wounds to register his words.

He sighed, his back moving slightly, which reopened a couple of the cuts. "A couple of days ago. When I ran into you, that's where I was coming from. Corinth. Home."

Gabrielle's hand moved of it's own accord, wiping the running blood from the long cuts, dabbing gently at the scars. "Your father?"

"I didn't think he'd be home, Gabby. I thought he was in jail or...I don't know. I went home, to see my mother, to apologize for helping get Jett thrown in prison and...and he was there. He wouldn't...he didn't even give me a chance to explain." Joxer's voice broke as the sobs came back. The hot tears making their journey from his bloodshot eyes down his pale cheeks to the rounded chin.

"I'm sorry, Joxer. I'm so sorry." She moved slowly, carefully in the dim light the moon shone down, coming around to sit in front of him.

He took his hands away from his face and looked at her, his brown eyes full of nightmares and his expression resembling that of a frightened child. "What'd I do, Gabby? I must have done something wrong. I was always doing something wrong. I was never good enough for him."

Without hesitation, she placed her hands on either side of his face, trapping him with her green eyes. "You didn't do anything wrong, Joxer. It wasn't your fault. It wasn't. It isn't."

"I'm always doing something wrong," he countered, pulling away from her touch and settling into a small ball. "Always." His voice faded away into the night and the small clearing grew silent. There was the faint sound of the wind in the branches.

Gabrielle watched him, the huddled, frightened, scarred, would-be warrior. The man she had always thought of as clumsy and bothersome. He had such a gentle soul, so hurt and frayed. It scared her, somehow. It scared her to think about his heart, his soul so broken and crushed and thrown away by the very people who were supposed to love him. The unfairness of it all made her want to take him up in her arms and heal him, close every running wound, mend every open fear, settle him into a place of warmth and love and security.

Suddenly frightened by the wave of emotion that threatened to overtake her; the bard pulled away, her strawberry blond hair glowing light a star in the moonlight as she stood up. She couldn't take this now. It was too soon. Her soul needed a break, her heart ached to hold him and comfort him.

What about Perdicus? she thought.

Perdicus is dead, another voice in her mind whispered. He's dead and buried. You've mourned him. Put him to rest. Find new happiness. Joxer needs you, he loves you.

I don't love him.

You haven't given him the chance; you haven't given your heart the chance, Gabrielle.

She looked back at the shell of a man and saw him starring at her his eyes pools of endless, troubled brown. He ran a hand through his hair and clumsily wiped tears from his face. Joxer, her mind whispered.

"Gabby," he started and then closed his mouth, looked at the ground.

"What, Joxer? What is it?" She closed to distance between them, sitting in front of him again, her hand on his shoulder.

Joxer took a shuddering breath, feeling the night air assault the wounds on his back. "Why do you hate me?"

Gabrielle nearly doubled over as a knife slashed through her heart. "I don't hate you."

"You don't like me. You don't like having me around. I'm just a nuisance to you. I'm always doing something wrong."

Regret filled her along with the bittersweet realization that he was right. She had always treated him badly, pulling his nose, slapping him, yelling at him. Looking back on the way she had acted, she had to wonder why he stayed, why he bothered to return to her time after time.

Silence slid his paper-thin knife between them. Joxer pulled his tunic back over his head, covering the pale flesh, the scars and burns, that covered his body, testament to the childhood abuse he had endured. Endured and lived through, becoming a gentle man, not a warrior, not a hate-filled demon, but a sensitive man who tried to hide his vulnerability from the world.

Glancing up to catch a glimpse of him, Gabrielle felt her heart shatter like glass, a thousand pieces shinning in the moonlight, never to be picked up. Shards of a love that had ended before it had truly begun. And they sang, those crystalline mirrors, in a high sweet voice about a man named Perdicus. In their place, beating as delicately as a butterfly's wings, was a new heart, one spun from moonlight and the petals of dark red flowers, mixed with flashes of brown eyes and pale skin.

"I'm sorry, Joxer."

He shook his head. "It's my fault, Gabby."

She sprang toward him, wrapping her arms around his chest, feeling his body stiffen with anxiousness as she touched him. "No, it isn't, Joxer. It's mine. I've been a real bitch to you, haven't I?"

"No, you haven't. I'm always doing something wrong."

"Listen to me, Joxer," she started as she pulled away from him and made him look her in the eyes. "You don't deserve the way I treat you. You didn't deserve the punishments your father gave you. Understand?"

Weakly, he nodded, tears clinging to his eyes. "Do you know why I stayed with you, Gabby? Why I don't like to leave?"

She shook her head.

"It's because I love you," he whispered, ducking his head as the words left his mouth.

"I know," she told him and brushed her hand along his cheek, wiping the last of the tears away.

***

He slept peacefully that night, his head resting in the lap of the woman he loved while she stroked her fingers through his hair and sang to him in her sweet, clear voice. She watched him the moonlight, stared at his pale face, so free of fear and misery as he slept. And the nightmares stayed away, there were only dreams of the strawberry blond haired bard and her flashing green eyes.