Precious Time

Author's Note: This story answers the April 2002 challenge: Write a good old fashioned h/c challenge including the following things: hives, salves, fever, bandages, honey, the line" I'm sorry, there's nothing more I can do. It's up to the gods now." There's not much plot here - just a big ol' smarmy h/c :) As always, feedback is always appreciated, and no copyright infringement intended through characters not owned by me in this non-profit tale of suffering .

The beauty of the day was lost to Hercules. He plodded on, unmindful of the golden sun glistening in the clear blue sky, and not noticing the gentle breeze wafting over him, preventing the early afternoon from being too hot. The rainbows of flowers decorating the fields along the road he was traveling failed to capture his attention with their gaiety. All the demigod could focus on was the sorrow and grief that weighed heavily on his heart.

The past few days had been chaotic, to say the least. In the midst of all that had been happening, Hercules hadn’t really had time to think about or deal with his loss. But now, with the quiet journey not proving any distraction, he couldn’t help but focus on it. His mother was gone. Never again would he return home to her welcoming embrace, and never again would she shine her loving smile on him. She’d never fix him his favorite meal again, and she’d never reach out to brush the hair from his face. No more gentle scoldings about taking care of himself, no more of her ringing laughter, no more walls to build or roofs to fix or grain to sell. She had loved him unconditionally, comforted him through all his trials, and shared in all his triumphs. Hercules may have been the son of a god, but it was his mother’s guidance that turned him into a hero.

At first he wanted to deny that her time had come, but Alcmene, in her strength, hadn’t let him. She made him face it, and he was able to make peace with it and, before it was too late, say everything he still wanted to say to her. Which turned out to be a simple “I love you”. As hard as it had been, Hercules was still grateful that he’d been able to be with her and hold her hand as she slipped away to the Other Side. At first, he was in shock, unable to believe that she was really gone. Then anger set in. But just as he was beginning to finally let himself grieve, Zeus whisked him away to Olympus.

Hercules became occupied with adjusting to his new life as a full god. He was determined to do all he could to keep helping people. But of course, Hera, Ares, and Apollo had other ideas. And then he was faced with the fact that his father had ulterior motives for making him a god. All that talk about father and son joining together and taking his rightful place had been a smokescreen. Zeus had only wanted him on Olympus to align against Hera. And as the hero that he’d always been, Hercules obligingly put Ares and Apollo in their places and dumped Hera into the Abyss of Tartarus, saving his father from dying in his new mortal form. But once everything had been righted, Hercules turned his back on the Olympians in utter disgust and chose to return to Greece as a demigod, where he felt he belonged.

But then he was left with the quiet journey. No distractions. Nothing to drag his mind away from the grief that he’d hidden away in his heart. The craziness on Olympus had just served to further the emphasis that the happy home life he’d enjoyed with his mother was no longer a possibility. Alcmene, who had captured the very heart of the king of the gods himself with her strength and her beauty and her courage, mother to the greatest hero Greece had ever known, was gone. And the weight of that was almost too much for the demigod to bear. So he plodded on, sadness tainting his happy memories, sorrow leadening his steps. Trying to deal with it all as best he could, lost inside himself. At least, lost until something from the outside world pulled him back.

“Hercules, do you think we could stop for a minute?”

The demigod jumped slightly as the voice beside him startled him out of his morose thoughts. He turned to look at his partner, frowning slightly. It was not like Iolaus to ever need a break, much less ask for one.

“Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Its just...” The hunter paused, closing his eyes. What he was about to say was hard for him, because he saw it as admitting to weakness. “I’m not feeling that great.”

“Of course. Take all the time you want.”

Hercules watched his friend veer off the road, making his way down a path that led to a spring. Iolaus crouched down next to the pool of water, filling up his water skin with the cold liquid. The demigod followed him, sitting down beside him as he took a drink.

“How long have you been feeling ill?”

“I felt a little off when I woke up this morning, but I didn’t think it was any big deal,” the hunter confessed, taking up a little water in his hands and splashing it over his face. “But as we’ve been walking I just started feeling worse and worse.”

Hercules reached out a hand to touch his friend’s forehead, feeling the hot, fevered skin under his fingers.

“Well, you’re sick, that’s for sure,” he murmured sympathetically.

“Sorry,” Iolaus whispered, ducking his head.

“For what?” the demigod demanded. “It happens. It isn’t your fault.”

The hunter sighed heavily, and Hercules squeezed his shoulder to emphasize his words, feeling a wave of guilt wash over him. Looking back, he realized that his friend had hardly eaten anything all day and had been unusually silent as they traveled. For one that was normally a nonstop blur of chatter and appetite, it should have been blatantly obvious that something was wrong. Hercules silently berated himself for being so wrapped up in himself that he had completely overlooked the man at his side. His best friend had loved Alcmene as much as he did and would certainly be grieving her loss too, for she gave him a home and a family when he desperately needed one. But the demigod had been thinking only of his own pain, all but forgetting about the loyal partner at his side, currently pale and feverish, his sparkling blue eyes now dull and weary. He shouldn’t have had to vocalize that fact that he wasn’t feeling well, and Hercules immediately cast aside the gloomy thoughts that had been pulling him down and devoted all his attentions to his friend, determined to make it up to him.

“Why don’t we set up camp here until you’re feeling better?” he suggested, but Iolaus shook his head.

“Really, I’m ok, Herc,” he protested, climbing to his feet. “We’re getting close to Velos, and I can make it that far.”

It was the demigod’s turn to sigh. His partner’s stubbornness knew no bounds, but Hercules knew from long experience that it was pointless to argue with him so he merely held his tongue and waved his hand, letting Iolaus lead the way back to the road. All he could do now was try to get the hunter to take it easy the rest of the way and hope that he would accept his limits before he collapsed flat on his face. Well, there was a first time for everything.

Despite Hercules’ best efforts to keep the pace slow and the breaks frequent, it soon became obvious that Iolaus was wearing out. His stride grew slower and he began to stumble, instinctively reaching out to grab onto his partner’s arm which was always there to catch him. He would obediently stop whenever the demigod insisted that he take a break, but after resting a few minutes, the hunter got back up on his feet and resumed walking. Even though he might not have agreed with it, Hercules had to admire his friend’s determination. But then suddenly Iolaus came to a halt in the middle of the road, pressing a hand against his stomach.

“Are you all right?” the demigod asked him.

“No,” the hunter groaned, turning and heading off to the side of the road next to a clump of bushes. He dropped to his knees, wrapping both arms around his abdomen and leaning forward as the nausea ripped through his stomach. Hercules followed him, sitting down next to him without a word but putting a comforting hand on his shoulder as Iolaus held his tense position. Finally, his insides heaved, bringing up the little he was able to force down earlier that day. When it was over and the nausea subsided, the hunter relaxed, finding himself leaning back against his friend’s chest.

“Do you want anything?” Hercules inquired softly, pushing back the wet curls that were plastered to his partner’s sweat soaked face.

“Yeah,” Iolaus replied with a wistful smile. “A warm room in a nice inn with a big soft bed. A hot bath, and a steaming mug of tea. And a beautiful girl to wait on me hand and foot.”

“Since I don’t happen to have any of that strapped to my waist at the moment,” the demigod said wryly. “How about a drink of water?”

The hunter accepted the water skin he was handed. He took a big gulp and immediately choked, setting off another wave of upheaval shooting up from his insides, spilling over his lips before he could even react. Iolaus lunged forward on his hands and knees, coughing up a little bile into the dirt, grateful that Hercules’ strong hands were holding him up. When he was finished, the demigod eased him over on his back. The hunter lay panting in the cool grass, waves of dizziness giving him a sense of vertigo. Gradually things began to come back into focus and he became aware that Hercules was wiping off his face and chest with the corner of a blanket which he’d dampened with water, cleaning him up as best as he could.

“I think we’d better camp here for the night,” the demigod suggested, concern written all over his face.

The thought was tempting, but Iolaus pulled himself up into a sitting position.

“We can’t. There’s no good shelter or water sources in the area. I can make it to Velos, Herc. It’s not much farther.”

Hercules wanted to argue, but he had to admit that his friend was right. With Iolaus sick, they couldn’t stay where there was no water or protection from the elements. Velos wasn’t far off, but the hunter wasn’t in any shape to be walking. But it didn’t look like they had much choice.

Iolaus rested until he stopped shaking, taking a few sips of water but being very careful not to gulp it. Then Hercules helped him up, and they began their journey once more. For the hunter, it was a journey nothing short of torturous. He lost all sight of where they were, where they were going, or why. His all encompassing thought became putting one foot in front of the other. The demigod had given up trying to steady him and had just slid an arm around his waist, supporting him as much as he could. Iolaus kept going through sheer, stubborn willpower, but he was feeling worse with each step. He was beset with chills and his vision kept blurring in and out, but worst of all was the crippling weakness that was replacing his usual strength and stamina at an alarming rate. The hunter tried with all his might to resist, but the point came where Hercules was practically dragging him and he knew that he could not go any farther. He was just opening his mouth to admit his failure to his friend when the demigod suddenly lowered him to the ground, propping him up against something cold and hard.

“Just rest here a minute. I’ll be right back.”

The hunter dazedly looked around him, suddenly realizing that he was sitting in the middle of a marketplace, his back against a well. Somehow, they had made it to Velos. The sun was dipping lower in the sky, and all of the vendors were busy packing up their wares and getting ready to head home.

“Iolaus?”

He stifled a groan of protest and opened his eyes. The hunter had been on the verge of sleep, and it had felt wonderful.

“Where were you?” he asked, getting to his feet with his partner’s aid. The dizziness came again, making his head swim, but he gritted his teeth and held on to his friend until it passed.

“Granting your wish,” Hercules told him, making sure he was steady before guiding him toward their new destination.

“My wish?”

“A warm room at a nice inn with a soft bed,” the demigod reminded him. “Come on, it’s just down the street here.”

As they stepped through the inn door, Iolaus pulled away from his partner’s supporting arm. The place was full of people, warriors and soldiers among them, and Hercules understood that his proud friend did not want to seem weak and helpless in front of them. So, the demigod pointed him through the common area to a staircase in the back. The hunter made his way through the inn, swaying a bit, but more or less normally. But when he reached the staircase he faltered, lacking the energy to climb up. Hercules stepped back in, wrapping a strong arm securely around his waist and Iolaus leaned heavily into his partner as he began the arduous climb. The demigod knew it would be so much easier for him to scoop the smaller man up in his arms and carry him up the staircase. But Iolaus hated being carried more than anything else in the world, and Hercules had learned to only attempt such a thing as a last resort. As they reached the top of the stairs, one of the doors that lined the hallway opened and a young woman emerged, a yoke of buckets across her thin shoulders.

“Everything’s ready for you, Hercules,” she announced, giving a sympathetic smile to the haggard hunter.

The demigod thanked her and helped his friend into the room that she’d just vacated. A tub of water sat in the middle of the floor, causing Iolaus to look at his partner questioningly.

“I told you,” Hercules answered in response to the look. “I’m granting your wish. But do you still want this? You can lie down and rest for awhile first, if you want.”

The hunter was aching to lie down and sleep, but he was covered in sweat and grime from the road, and the steam curling up from the water was an invitation that his chill-ridden body couldn’t refuse. So, he sat on the edge of the bed and began fumbling with the lacing on his gauntlets. Hercules finally got tired of watching him struggle and moved to help him, undoing the gauntlets and his belt and pulling off his boots. Iolaus managed to shed the rest of his clothing on his own, but he needed help crossing the short distance from the bed to the bath.

But it was all worth it as he sunk down into the hot water with a contented sigh. Leaning his throbbing head back against the edge of the tub, the hunter closed his eyes and relaxed, feeling the warmth penetrate and drive away the chill that had seemingly settled into his bones. Iolaus became a little indignant when he realized that Hercules had begun to bathe him. But opening his eyes and informing his partner that he was not a baby and that he was perfectly capable of doing it himself seemed like too much effort. Too comfortable and too exhausted to even put up the show of resistence, the hunter lay still, enjoying the feel of the soft cloth against his skin, the sweet scent of the soap calming him to sleep.

Hercules let his friend doze in the water, watching him carefully to make sure his head didn’t slip under. But once the bath began to cool off, the demigod reluctantly roused his friend, trying to hurry him before he became chilled once more. Iolaus’ legs were shaking so badly as he tried to stand that he was forced to hang onto his partner to keep himself upright as the demigod knotted a towel around his waist. The hunter was so close to being able to collapse into bed and just sleep, and yet he knew he wasn’t going to make it. He just had nothing left. Hercules read the question in his friend’s eyes and saved him the embarrassment of asking it aloud. In response, he gently gathered Iolaus in his arms and lifted him out of the bath, carrying him across the floor to the bed.

A knock sounded upon their door, and Hercules left to answer it, returning with a steaming mug and a chiton. He helped Iolaus slip the borrowed garment over his head before pulling up the blankets, tucking him in warmly.

“The tea you wanted,” he explained, handing the mug to the hunter. “I’m sorry, but I couldn’t get you the beautiful girl to wait on you hand and foot.”

“I’m not complaining,” Iolaus murmured softly, taking a sip of the tea. His blue eyes radiated appreciation and love for all that the demigod was doing for him. But then a thought occurred to him, and he struggled to sit up a little. “Herc, how are you paying for all of this?”

“You aren’t the only one who can charm innkeepers, you know,” the demigod told him airily. “Now drink a little more of that.”

The hunter managed most of the tea before fatigue overcame him. Passing the mug back to his friend, Iolaus settled down with a sigh and was asleep almost immediately. But his respite into oblivion was unfortunately short lived. All too soon he was back up, expelling the tea into a bowl that Hercules held to his lips. When the nausea subsided, he collapsed back against the pillows, looking up at his partner.

“I don’t think you charmed your way through anything,” he accused with a faint grin. “You’re working off our bill, aren’t you?”

“Can’t get anything past you,” Hercules replied with a smile of his own. “But why don’t you let me worry about the bill, and you just get some rest?”

Iolaus needed no more encouragement, closing his eyes and drifting into a restless sleep. The demigod watched him for awhile with mounting concern. Maybe it was paranoia stemming from the recent loss of his mother, but he just didn’t like the way his friend had weakened so quickly and he began to fear that this illness was beyond a simple bug. Resting a hand on the hunter’s forehead, Hercules made up his mind as he felt the heat emanating from his partner. Rising, the demigod slipped out of the room and trotted down the staircase. The inn was packed with dining travelers and hard working villagers enjoying a drink after a long day. But he quickly spotted the innkeeper clearing off one of the tables in the corner.

“Hercules,” the man greeted. “How’s your friend?”

“He’s doing all right,” the demigod replied, not wanting to voice his worries out loud. “But I think maybe he should see a healer, just to be safe. Do you have one here in Velos?”

“Sure,” the innkeeper replied. “Misenus is one of the best. I can send my daughter for him, if you’d like.”

“I’d appreciate that,” Hercules told him gratefully. “Thank you.”

He went back up the staircase, returning to their room to check on his partner. The hunter was still sleeping, so Hercules pulled a chair up to the window to stare out into the evening and wait. Before too long, there was a soft knock at the door. The demigod opened it to find the innkeeper standing there with a mug in his hands.

“Misenus is tied up with an emergency right now,” the man said apologetically. “But he promised he would come as soon as he was able, and he did send a parcel of medicine for your friend. Here, my wife made it into a tea for you.”

Hercules thanked him and took the mug, closing the door with a sigh of frustration. He examined the tea, sniffing it and dipping his finger in to taste it, grimacing reflexively. It was white willow, notoriously bitter. The demigod knew he had his work cut out for him getting his stubborn partner to drink it. But he went over to the bed and gently shook his friend awake.

“I sent for the healer,” Hercules told him, deciding to go ahead and let him know and get the indignant protests out of the way. But Iolaus merely yawned and rubbed a hand tiredly over his eyes. “He’ll be here soon, but in the meantime, he sent this over for you. Try to drink some of it.”

The hunter struggled up, and the demigod propped the pillows behind him to support him. Cautiously, Iolaus took the mug and tried a sip, immediately making a face of utter disgust.

“I know,” the demigod said sympathetically. “But it will help you feel better.”

To his utmost surprise, the hunter complacently took a few more sips before handing the mug back to his friend and leaning back into the pillows.

“What’s gotten into you?” Hercules demanded. “I thought I’d have to tie you down and pour that stuff down your throat.”

“I’m trying out a new philosophy,” Iolaus murmured, a twinkle evident in his fever-bright eyes.

“Which is?”

“When I was studying the eastern teachings,” the hunter began. “There was a belief that different situations happen throughout the course of your life in order to teach you things. Things that you need to learn in order to grow and mature and perfect your spirit. And if you don’t learn from them, then they’ll keep happening over and over until you do.”

“I’m not getting what that has to do with any of this,” Hercules told him with mild amusement.

“Well, I was just thinking that maybe I keep getting hurt, or sick, because I’m not learning what I’m supposed to.”

“Which is?”

“That I need to swallow my stubborn pride and accept the help that people try to give me,” Iolaus grinned. He knew it was a throwback to having grown up with the father that he had. Skorous would simply not tolerate any sign of weakness, and complaints of illness or pain fell into that category. So Iolaus had learned from a very young age to hide whatever complaints he might be suffering, and always try and keep up the illusion of strength and stamina and independence. But knowing the root of his stubbornness didn’t make it any easier to get over, and it was a quirk that had driven Hercules to fits on more than one occasion. The hunter knew that his partner would never look down on him for being weak, but then again, Hercules rarely ever got sick or hurt to the point of incapacitation. By comparison, Iolaus did not want to seem like a burden or dead weight holding him back. But was it really so bad to stop and rest and heal up when he needed to, as opposed to driving himself on to the point of collapse where it would take him twice as long to recover? Maybe it was time to accept the fact that he was human, not part god, and that sometimes he needed to be cared for.

“Try a little more,” Hercules commanded softly, passing the mug back to his friend. Iolaus took a small sip and tried to hand it back, but the demigod refused. “More.”

“I can’t right now, Herc,” the hunter told him honestly. “My stomach...”

Understanding, the demigod took the mug from him and set it on the small table next to the bed, his heart aching. Deep inside, Hercules knew that all the times Iolaus was hurt had nothing to do with any Eastern teachings. The brave hunter was caused to suffer repeatedly because he had chosen to partner with the son of Zeus, who was hated by the rest of the gods, and never out of the line of fire. Because Iolaus faithfully stood by him, never backing down no matter what was thrown at them, he was doomed to be a perpetual target. Hercules knew it was his own fault that Iolaus was continually injured, and the guilt of it almost drove him mad each time he had to nurse his wounded friend through long, uncertain nights. In these desperate moments, the demigod wanted to sever his ties with his partner, thinking it the only way to keep him safe. But he knew that Iolaus would never stand for it, and although he hated to admit that he was capable of such selfishness, deep down inside he was glad. For he didn’t think he’d be able to take the misery of the gods without the brother of his heart by his side.

“Herc...”

The demigod was jolted out of his thoughts and looked down at his friend’s white face. Instantly, he slipped a hand behind him, helping him up while he held the bowl to his lips. Iolaus convulsed and began to retch, bringing up the medicine. When he was finished, he collapsed back down onto the bed as Hercules poured a little water from a pitcher into a clean bowl. Dipping the cloth into the cool water, he used it to wipe the film of sweat from his partner’s face.

“White willow’s pretty tough to take even when you don’t have a stomachache,” he murmured consolingly, folding the cloth and laying it across the hunter’s forehead. “Just take it easy for a minute, and I’ll be right back.”

Hercules left the room and went back downstairs where the crowd had thinned out considerably. He made his way through the dining area and slipped in through the kitchen door, where the innkeeper’s wife was cleaning up after her daily labors. She turned and saw him in the doorway and was visibly startled.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he apologized.

“That’s all right, Hercules,” she replied. “You just surprised me. Did that tea help your friend any?”

“We need some more,” he told her, handing her the empty mug.

She nodded and set to work brewing up another batch while the demigod quickly left to get some more water and discreetly dispose of the evidence of his friend’s sickness. When he returned, she was just finishing the tea.

“We need some honey in it this time,” the demigod said.

The woman pulled out a clay jar and unwound the cloth covering it. Dipping the ladle in, she spooned out a large dollop of honey and dropped it into the mug, stirring it into the tea. Hercules tasted it, but it was still too bitter.

“More,” he insisted.

She looked at him for a long moment, scrutinizing him throughly. He had been honest about the fact that he’d had no money when he had first come in asking for a room. Her husband had instantly taken him up on his offer to work off his tab, delighted to be able to grant such a small favor to Greece’s legendary hero. And, he pointed out to his wife, it wouldn’t be such a bad thing to get in good with Hercules, in case they needed his help some day. She, on the other hand, tended to consider her husband a soft-hearted fool. He was always pulling stunts like that, letting vagrants spend cold nights downstairs next to the fire or sneaking some of the rich pastries she’d labored over to the street urchins in the marketplace. It wasn’t that she was cold or uncaring, but she understood that they had a business to run and that they needed to make a profit to survive. And doling out big spoonfuls of expensive honey to people that couldn’t pay, be they the sons of Zeus or not, was not the way to make a profit.

With a sigh, the woman dipped her ladle again and added more of the sugary, golden fluid to the mug. She had no desire to anger the king of the gods by refusing to help his son, or her husband by going against his wishes. Hoping that the demigod was a man of his word and that she’d be able to extract the equal amount of work from him to compensate, she kept adding the honey until he decided it was enough.

Thanking her warmly, Hercules took the mug and went back up to their room. Iolaus was not happy to see him enter with yet another steaming mug in his hands, and he eyed the drink suspiciously. The demigod paid no attention to his looks and propped him back up against the pillows, handing him the mug.

“Herc, I don’t think...”

“Just try a sip,” Hercules urged.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, Iolaus put the mug to his lips and took the tiniest of sips. His eyes flew open in surprise as he tasted the sweet brew. The hunter adored honey, but it was a luxury they could rarely afford unless he procured his own from the hive, always a risk. Taking another sip, he savored the taste with a grin of delight.

“Thanks, Herc.”

“You’re welcome,” the demigod told him, smiling back. It didn’t take much to make his friend happy, and it was one of the traits that Hercules loved best about his partner. That he took such joy in the simplest of things.

Iolaus managed to finish the whole mug of the honeyed tea, and laid back down with a sigh. But within moments, his stomach began rolling with that all-too-familiar queasiness. He curled up on his side, bringing his knees up to his chest in an effort to ease the pain that began knifing through his gut. Hercules saw his distress and sat on the edge of the bed beside him, rubbing a comforting hand up and down his back.

“Try and keep it down, Iolaus,” he pressed. “The medicine will help, but you have to keep it down. I know you can do it. Just take a few deep breaths.”

The hunter did as he was told, breathing deeply and concentrating on keeping everything where it belonged. He kept telling himself that it was mind over matter, but in the end, his mind lost. His stomach lurched and heaved, not about to be denied. Iolaus bolted up with a moan, his insides twisted in knots. He brought up the tea, but his stomach kept spasming, making him retch over and over as his body tried to expel something that wasn’t there.

Hercules moved behind his friend, slipping an arm around his trembling body to help keep him up until the spasms passed. The increasing violence of these attacks was frightening him. Iolaus was rapidly getting worse, and it was now obvious to the demigod that his partner had not come down with a mild ailment that he’d shake off in a day or two. Whatever the hunter had contracted, it was serious. Finally, the nausea released him and Iolaus sagged back against his friend.

Reaching for the mug on the table next to the bed, Hercules poured a little water into it and held it to the hunter’s lips, pleading with him until he took a small sip. The demigod set the mug down, and for a moment just sat, holding his friend tightly in his arms. Iolaus turned slightly, resting his head on his friend's shoulder, feeling the soft material of his shirt under his cheek.

"Something's wrong, Herc," he said quietly, a hint of anxiety in his voice.

Of course, the hunter knew. If Hercules could figure out that there was something unnatural about his friend's illness, then the one actually suffering through these intense symptoms would be sure to have guessed. But the demigod could not bring himself to actually acknowledge it out loud. As if hiding the truth would make it go away.

"You probably just picked something up in Thebes," Hercules told him, trying to sound cheerful and optimistic. "Don't worry, Iolaus. The healer will be here soon, and he'll give you something to help. You'll be fine, I promise."

He carefully eased his friend back down into the bed as Iolaus gave him a small smile. Obviously, the hunter knew his partner was in denial, but he was willing to go along with it. Willing to play the game until the demigod could no longer deny the truth before him. Hercules wrung the cloth out in the bowl of cool water and wiped the sweat from his friend's face and neck.

"You're going to be all right," he emphasized. "You just need some rest. Why don't you try and sleep? I'm right here if you need me, and the healer will be here soon."

Iolaus nodded, settling down and closing his eyes, feeling the cool cloth wiping his face again. He was a little worried, but he wasn't afraid. The hunter didn't understand what was happening to him, but it was incidental at this point. Maybe Hercules was right and that he would be fine in a few days. If he was wrong, and if this illness was not going to stop until it had taken all the hunter had to give, it was still no reason for panic. Iolaus knew that his partner wouldn't let him go without a fight. And Hercules hadn't lost a battle yet.

The soft knock at the door jarred Hercules' frayed nerves. He'd spent a long agitated night sitting up with his partner, watching him toss in fretful sleep as his fever kept climbing. Nothing the demigod tried seemed to help, and his worry was starting to mount into panic.

"It's about time," he snapped, almost ripping the door off the hinges as he opened it to find an aged man waiting in the hallway.

"You must be Hercules," the healer remarked with a smile, entering the room, quite used to the emotions of those whose loved ones were ill. "I'm Misenus. I'm sorry to be so long. I was tied up with a woman in labor. It was a hard birth, and things went bad. I was able to save the baby, but I'm afraid I lost the mother."

"No, I'm sorry." The demigod was instantly contrite. He could see the fatigue lining the old man's face, and he knew from experience how upsetting it was to lose someone you tried so hard to save. "I'm sure you came as soon as you could. It's just... My friend's in bad shape and its making me a little crazy."

The healer put an understanding hand on his arm, giving him another smile.

"Well, let's have a look at him then."

Hercules led the way to the bed and gently woke his partner, introducing him to Misenus. The old man began examining him carefully, checking his temperature and pulse before poking and prodding him all over.

"How long has this been going on?"

"He started feeling sick yesterday morning," the demigod answered.

Misenus raised his eyebrows, but did not comment. He pressed his fingers against the hunter's stomach and palpated gently.

"Sit up for me, young man."

Iolaus tried to struggle up, appalled that he was too weak to do so. Hercules pulled him up, holding his shoulders to support him as the healer moved behind him. The hunter began to shiver as a wave of chills engulfed him, and he leaned forward to rest his forehead against his partner's shoulder as Misenus pressed his ear against his back, listening to the wheezing sounds coming from his chest. Hercules looked over the sea of tangled blond curls to meet the healer's eyes.

"That just started a few hours ago," he told him quietly.

Misenus nodded, kneading the hunter’s sides.

"Have you given him any of the white willow I sent over?"

"He couldn't keep it down."

"It is nasty stuff, that's for sure." The healer patted the ill man on the shoulder. "You can relax now, Iolaus."

Hercules helped his friend lay back down, covering him snugly with the warm blankets. Misenus watched, noting the tenderness the demigod displayed. It was completely obvious that this small blond man meant the world to the legendary hero. The healer didn't think he could bear to tell him that he was probably going to lose him.

"I'll leave you with some more medicine. Something a little easier on the taste buds," Misenus promised, giving the hunter a wink. "Come, Hercules, and I'll give you the instructions."

The demigod picked up on his pointed glance to the far corner of the room where he'd left his satchel and followed him over.

"Well?" he demanded in an anxious whisper.

"I'm not sure what's causing this," the healer began hesitantly. "But its obviously very virulent to make him so ill so quickly. I don't want you to lose hope, but his condition is very serious, Hercules."

"But you can help him, can't you?"

"I'll give you some medicine for him that should bring him some relief. Here." He pushed a small jar of salve into the demigod's hands. "Use that on his chest and it should ease his breathing. I've got some herbs to help settle his stomach, but I'll take them downstairs and have them brew a tea for you. The fever worries me the most. Keep bathing him with cool water and you've got to try to get some water into him. A drop at a time if you have to, but you can't let him get dehydrated."

Misenus looked at the man before him. The strongest man in Greece, son of the great Zeus. But at that moment he appeared for all the world to be a lost child. Vulnerable, alone, and terrified. He stood, fidgeting as he clutched the jar of salve tightly in his hands, searching for hope but so afraid there was none to be found.

"Is he going to die?" The words were whispered, as if he couldn't bear to say them out loud.

"Let's just wait and see how he reacts to the medicine, and then we'll go from there," the healer finally said. "I'll be back to check on him this evening, but I have to see to another patient now. Farmer's son got crushed under an overturned wagon two days ago. He's been hanging on, but the poor boy is nothing but bandages and splints from head to toe. I don't think he's going to pull through."

"Thank you for coming," Hercules told him dully, opening the door for him.

"They always come in threes," the healer muttered as he left.

The demigod shut the door behind him and leaned back against it, a cold knot of fear constricting his heart at Misenus' words. Threes. First, his beautiful Serena. Then his mother.

"No," he whispered with a fierce shake of the head. Iolaus was NOT going to die. He simply couldn't let him. Hercules was no stranger to loss, and his heart perpetually grieved for all that had been taken from him. But he knew that he wouldn't be able to take losing Iolaus. The man that was his partner, his friend, his family, and the brother of his soul. He kept Hercules grounded, centered, and sane. Iolaus was his sun, and the demigod knew that his remaining days would all be clouded in darkness if he lost his brave, loyal, irrepressible friend. No, he couldn't let him die.

"Herc?"

"I'm coming, Iolaus." The demigod paused to wipe the moisture from his eyes and try to get a grip on himself. He wasn't about to let his suffering friend see how worried and afraid he was. Hercules would be strong, but in truth, he'd never felt more helpless.

“What did Misenus say?” the hunter asked as his friend came to his bedside.

“He’s taking some herbs to the kitchen for you,” Hercules replied, sitting on the edge of his bed. “Something to settle your stomach. They’ll bring it up when its ready.”

“What are you doing?” Iolaus demanded as his partner uncovered him and lifted up the chiton, exposing him completely.

“This is supposed to help you breathe little easier, so just shut up and lie still.” Hercules opened the jar, the strong odor of hyssop wafting up in the air. He scooped up some of the gooey salve and liberally applied it to his friend’s chest, ignoring the grimace of distaste he was given.

“Ok, that’s enough,” the hunter protested, hating the clingy, sticky feeling of the salve. Weakly, he pushed the demigod’s hands away and tugged the chiton back down. “What else did Misenus say?”

“He said not to let you get dehydrated,” Hercules told him, wiping off his hands before helping his partner up. “So try a little water.” He held a mug to the hunter’s lips, and Iolaus obediently took a small sip, watching his friend’s face closely. The demigod eased him back down, covering him securely, then turned away from him to fuss over the supplies on the table. Obviously, there was something his friend wasn’t telling him. And it didn’t take a genius to figure out that Misenus probably hadn’t thought much of the hunter’s prognosis, a fact which Hercules was still trying to deny. Or at least avoid.

“Herc,” Iolaus began hesitantly, trying to think of something to say to reassure his friend. But he was interrupted by a knock on the door, signaling the arrival of the latest round of medicine. Hercules brought it to him, holding him up and steadying the mug at his lips.

“That’s it, Iolaus,” he coaxed. “Drink as much as you can. This one will help, you’ll see.”

But when the hunter had taken all he was able, the demigod gently laid him back down and moved a few paces away. There was hope in his heart, but the basin was in his hands, and he was ready to come to his friend’s aid when he heard the familiar moan. He pulled Iolaus up once more, sliding in behind him to support him against his broad chest as the nausea overcame him and he brought up the tea with a vengeance.

Hercules wrapped his strong arms around his shaking friend, not knowing what else to do. He buried his face in the golden curls before him, trying to hold back the tears. The demigod could feel the weakness and the exhaustion in his partner's limbs, and he instinctively knew that Iolaus did not have much left. All the vomiting and the burning fever had robbed him of his strength, and the medicines and herbs were apparently no match for the insidious illness that was determined to overtake him. Taking a deep breath, Hercules regained control of himself. He moved to the edge of the bed, helping his friend lay back down. Once again, he dipped the cloth into the bowl of water and bathed the hunter's sweat soaked body. The demigod pulled up the blankets over his partner's chest, and rested a hand against Iolaus' forehead.

"Get some sleep, buddy," he ordered gently. "It's probably the best thing for you now. I'll be right here if you need anything."

He kept talking in a soft, soothing voice, and it soon lulled the exhausted hunter to sleep. Hercules felt tired himself, but he dutifully sat right beside his partner's bedside, bathing him relentlessly with the cool water in an ongoing struggle to fight the fever. His efforts seemed futile, as the fever raged through his friend's body, it's heat stealing the last bits of strength from the toughened warrior. The hyssop salve was also apparently ineffectual, as Iolaus' breathing grew more and more labored as the afternoon passed by. He began coughing in great shuddering fits that left him gasping for air and made the demigod's heart freeze. After one particularly violent attack, Hercules turned away, tears streaming down his cheeks as he found himself wondering if his partner would make it to the healer's next visit.

“Herc, don’t.”

The demigod looked down at the sound of the whispered voice, unaware that his friend had awakened. Blue eyes glinting with concern looked up at him, and he hastily scrubbed a hand over his cheeks, trying too late to hide his tears.

“I know it looks bad now,” Iolaus said earnestly. “But I’m not giving up yet.”

“I’m not either,” Hercules assured him quickly. “It’s just.... I can’t stand seeing you suffer like this, knowing I can’t do anything to help.”

“Can’t do anything....?” The hunter looked up at his friend in wonder. “Herc, you’re doing everything you need to just by being here with me. I get strength from you, and you give me the motivation to keep on fighting. And, well... if the end should happen to come, then at least I don’t have to meet it alone. That’s really the most important thing.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” the demigod whispered, his throat constricting tightly. He turned his face away as he felt moisture stinging his eyes once more. “I meant what I said when I came back from Olympus. You’re all that’s left of my family, Iolaus. I’ve already lost so much, I think it would literally kill me to lose you, too.”

“I’m sorry,” Iolaus murmured, his heart aching for his friend. “I’m sorry that you have to watch me go through this so soon after your mother. I know that my dying would be tough on you, coming on top of Alcmene...”

“TOUGH?” Hercules exclaimed, facing his partner, failing to hide the naked grief in his eyes. “You know it would be TOUGH?” He laughed humorlessly, shaking his head. “Even now, after all these years, you still don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what?” the hunter asked, confused.

“Iolaus, from the first day we met, you’ve never failed to stand beside me. You’ve always been at my back, fighting at my side, protecting me. You were there for me when Hera took Deianeira and the kids. You stood beside me when everyone thought I had killed Serena. You helped me through my mother’s death and you supported me when I decided to go to Olympus. You’ve followed me into deadly situations and helped me take on the gods, and never once have you asked for anything in return. And let me tell you something, my friend. I’m the one who gets my strength from you. Whenever the gods beat me down and I feel like giving up, I just look to you. Everything I know about being a hero I learned from you, Iolaus, because there is no one else in this world who embodies what a true hero should be more than you. ‘Friend’ doesn’t do justice to the way I feel about you. There aren’t words to describe it. You are everything to me, Iolaus. So to sum it up, no, it wouldn’t be TOUGH on me to lose you. It would be a heartbreak that I could never, ever recover from.”

The hunter was speechless, unable to reply to his partner’s outburst. All he could do was reach one shaking hand out from under the blankets and rest it on the demigod’s knee. Hercules covered his hand with his own, squeezing it warmly before he continued in a softer, calmer voice.

“I need you, Iolaus. There’s no one I trust more, and there’s never been anyone else I’ve wanted by my side. I know it can’t be easy. Being lost in my shadow, everyone blind to the extraordinary things that you do. Nights spent cold and hungry, and your life being threatened at every turn. I’ve never even said thank you for sticking it out all these years. But I’ve always been proud to have you at my back, Iolaus, and I’ve always been honored to be your friend.”

“I don’t know what to say,” the hunter whispered, overwhelmed at his partner’s heartfelt confession.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Hercules told him. “Just promise me that you’ll keep fighting until I can figure out a way out of this mess, ok?”

“Ok.”

The demigod slid a hand under his friend’s head, lifting him up slightly to coax a sip of water into him. Settling him back down, Hercules smoothed the hair back from his face and adjusted his blankets.

“Get some rest now,” he urged. “Misenus will be back soon to have another look at you.”

The hunter complied, closing his eyes with a weary sigh. But after a moment he opened them, seeking out his partner anxiously.

“Herc, all that you just said to me? You know that I feel the same way about you, right?”

“I know,” the demigod reassured him, patting his shoulder through the blankets.

“Ok.” Iolaus smiled at him, that golden smile that could light up the dimmest of rooms. His mind now at ease, the hunter relaxed into sleep, leaving Hercules to worry and fret and pace the room until Misenus returned early that evening. The healer’s examination was brief, not even waking the patient.

“I’m sorry, Hercules,” came the grave diagnosis. “There’s nothing more I can do. It’s up to the gods now.”

The demigod had been expecting that answer, but the shock of actually hearing it was still like a slap in the face, confirming all of his worst fears. Iolaus was dying.

“Keep doing what you’re doing,” the healer advised. “You can make him comfortable until the time comes. I’m going home now, but you can send for me if you need me.” Misenus started for the door, but turned back to face the demigod. “I truly am sorry, Hercules. I wish there was something I could do.”

Hercules nodded, clearing his throat softly in an attempt to reach a steady voice.

“How is that boy doing? The one you left to go see?”

“He’s dead,” the healer said sadly. “His injuries were just too great.”

The demigod turned and went to the window without another word. Misenus watched him for a moment. It was always heartbreaking for him to have to tell people that there was nothing he could do for their loved ones, having to stand aside and witness their grief. But this case was especially brutal. As he’d had to shatter the last vestige of hope that the great Hercules had been clinging to, Misenus had seen the demigod’s very soul start to unravel. The healer could only hope for Greece’s sake that Hercules would be able to deal with the loss of this man that he obviously loved with all his heart, but from the tortured expression on his face, Misenus had his doubts. Quietly, he let himself out of the room, closing the door behind him.

Hercules stared out of the window at the twilight, thinking of Misenus’ earlier observation that they always come in threes. The demigod had vowed he would not let a third person he loved die, but now it seemed to be beyond his control. It was up to the gods now. Hercules laughed bitterly as he recalled that statement. It didn’t take much imagination to see that the gods were probably behind this. Iolaus, always so strong, had fallen much too hard and fast for the cause to be anything natural. The illness claiming him was swift and thorough, and it just had the ominous feel of the gods. The demigod was surprised that the Olympian responsible hadn’t shown up to gloat, but then he realized that whoever it was must be saving that pleasure until after Iolaus was dead. After all, Hercules couldn’t fight what he couldn’t understand. If he knew who was doing this to his friend, and how, then there was a chance he could find a cure. But not knowing what was happening, he was completely helpless and at the mercy of the ones that held his best friend’s life in their heartless hands.

He took a deep breath of the evening air, detecting the fresh scent of rain. It must have rained earlier, but he’d been oblivious to the fact. Hercules exhaled loudly, his mounting frustration making him restless. Somewhere out there, there was an answer to how to save his partner, he knew it! Somewhere out there, there was a cure that would halt the grisly encroach of death upon the brother of his heart. Somewhere... But he hadn’t the faintest idea of where to look. With no other choice, Hercules dropped his head, more out of shame than respect, and offered up a prayer to the gods. He begged for someone to help him, and let it be known that he was ready to deal. But no answer came from friend or foe, and he was left sitting in the darkening room listening to the chirping of the nocturnal insects and the increasingly ragged breathing of his doomed friend.

A knock eventually snapped Hercules out of his despairing reverie, and he rose and went to answer the door. The innkeeper’s daughter was standing on the landing, smiling shyly.

“I thought you might like this,” she offered, nodding at the tray of food in her hands.

“That’s very nice of you,” the demigod told her. “But I’m afraid my friend isn’t feeling much like eating right now.”

“It’s not for him,” the girl informed him, moving past him to enter the room. “It’s for you.” She set the tray down on the table and deftly lit a few candles, casting a soft light around the dark room.

“Oh.” Hercules grinned slightly, realizing that he hadn’t given himself a thought since Iolaus had fallen ill. “Thanks.”

The girl reached the same conclusion, looking him up and down critically.

“Why don’t you go downstairs for awhile?” she suggested. “It would do you some good to get out of this room. I’ll stay here with your friend.”

A hard look came over the demigod’s features and his jaw set determinedly as he shook his head.

“Hercules, you’ve barely been out of this room since you got here. You haven’t eaten a thing and you look exhausted. You aren’t going to be of any good to him if you make yourself sick, too.”

“I’m fine,” he insisted. His partner was slipping away, and he wasn’t about to leave him.

“Hercules,” she said gently, laying a hand on his arm. “Go downstairs and get some air. He’ll be all right for a few minutes, and I’ll stay right here with him, I promise. Take a few minutes, take care of yourself, and clear your head.”

The demigod hesitated, knowing that she was right. Finally he agreed to take her up on her offer and run out and get some air. He made sure Iolaus was well covered, resting a hand on his forehead before moving out of the way and letting the girl take his place.

“And when you come back, I expect you to eat everything on that tray,” she scolded as he headed for the door.

“I promise,” he grinned, before slipping out of the room and dashing down the stairs. Hercules quickly attended to his own personal needs, then filled up a bucket with water from the town well. He did feel a little better as he took several deep breaths of the cool, fresh air, stretching his muscular frame which was tired and stiff from his vigil at his friend’s bedside. But he did not linger. His partner did not have much time left, and Hercules wanted to spend whatever time there was with him. So he hurried back inside, leaping up the stairs three at a time.

When he got to the landing, he could hear the sounds of strangled choking. Bursting through the door, Hercules was horrified to see Iolaus writhing on the bed, struggling to pull air into his lungs. The girl was beside him, holding his hand, but terrified and unable to help him. The demigod raced to his partner, pulling him up into his arms and patting him firmly on the back.

“Come on, Iolaus,” he commanded. “Just relax and breathe. You can do it. Stay with me and focus. Relax...”

The hunter tried to shut out his panic, concentrating on his friend’s soothing voice. He forced himself to calm down, and after a moment, he gratefully felt his lungs inflate a little.

“That’s it,” Hercules told him, caressing his back gently. “There you go.”

Iolaus managed a few shallow breaths before being overcome with a violent fit of coughing, making him choke and gag. His stomach heaved, but there was nothing left to come up. When his body finally settled down, the hunter sagged in his friend’s arms, the last of his energy spent. Hercules held him tightly, rocking him gently and whispering to him soothingly.

“I’m sorry, Hercules. He woke up and started choking and I didn’t know what to do.”

The demigod looked up, having forgotten that the innkeeper’s daughter was still there.

“It’s not your fault,” he told her, his hand stroking tousled blond curls. “I appreciate you sitting with him, but you should run along now.”

The girl nodded, not the least bit offended over the curt dismissal. She understood that the ill man did not have much time left, and there was nothing anybody could do. Hercules wanted to be alone with his friend, to say goodbye and to help him begin his journey to the other side. She gathered up the tray of food she had brought, knowing that the demigod wouldn’t be wanting it anytime soon. As she went through the door, she paused to look back, tears stinging her eyes. She didn’t know him, but she was saddened at the thought of the imminent death of the handsome warrior with the kind blue eyes. Quietly closing the door, the girl was certain that the morning would bring the tragic news of the loss of the legendary Hercules’ best friend.

The demigod awkwardly shifted in the bed, trying to get into a comfortable position. He squirmed until he was sitting with his back against the pillows, his partner cradled in his arms. Looking down into the beloved face, pale and pallored, Hercules could no longer deny the fact that his friend was slipping away. The shadow of death lingered in those carefree blue eyes, forcing him to acknowledge the fact that Iolaus’ time was running out. But behind the glaze of fever and pain, a glint of determination and resolve still burned in the hunter’s eyes, and it tore the demigod’s heart.

“Iolaus, listen to me,” he began softly. “You don’t have to keep fighting, if you don’t want to. What I mean is, don’t keep fighting just for me.”

“I don’t want to stop fighting.” The voice was so weak, a whisper he had to strain to hear.

“All right,” Hercules told him, hugging him tightly. “Keep fighting. But if you decide you want to stop... You won’t be letting me down, do you hear me?”

Iolaus didn’t answer, but his eyes told the demigod that he understood what Hercules had been trying to tell him, and he managed a faint smile of thanks, grateful to be relieved of the burden of guilt he’d feel when the time came to surrender.

“Let yourself rest, Iolaus,” Hercules murmured softly, brushing a stray curl away from his partner’s face. “It’s ok. I’m right here with you, and I’m not going anywhere. I promise.”

The hunter gazed at the face of his partner, drinking in the love he saw written there. He never was able to figure out just what he ever did to deserve the friendship, respect, and affection of the great son of Zeus, Greece’s legendary hero. But it didn’t matter now. All that mattered was that the most important person in his life, the person he loved with all his heart and the person that he would gladly die for, felt the same about him. And that he was here now at the bitter end to ease the pain and fear and sadness.

Iolaus hated saying goodbye to life, feeling that he still had many adventures down the road. Not to mention fishing and hunting trips, festivals, hearty meals, and lovely young ladies. But ultimately, he had no regrets. He’d had many good years, doing what he loved by his partner’s side. And he’d helped so many people, whether they acknowledged it or not, and he’d had plenty of excitement and fun along the way. It was hard to accept that all of that was over now, but if he had to go, then this was how he wanted it to be. While it wasn’t a noble death in battle, slipping away while lying warm and safe in the arms of the brother of his heart wasn’t so bad.

He was too tired to talk anymore, but that was all right. There was nothing left unsaid between them, and words were no longer needed. Iolaus met his partner’s gaze, his own eyes reflecting the love shining from those of the demigod. Giving him a blinding grin, the hunter relaxed into the strong arms around him and closed his heavy eyes with a small sigh.

Hercules had been holding back the tears, not wanting to burden his friend with his torment. But when Iolaus smiled at him, the familiar sunny smile that always made everything all right with the world, the demigod’s control broke. Moisture streamed down his cheeks as his partner relaxed into sleep, for that smile was clearly a “goodbye”. After a moment, Hercules choked back his sorrow and wiped his face impatiently. Sitting there crying like a damn fool wasn’t going to help anything.

Slowly and deliberately, so that he wouldn’t disturb Iolaus, Hercules reached across to the table and picked up the bowl of water. Wringing out the cloth, he began bathing his friend’s face and neck, knowing it was a useless gesture against the fever raging through the hunter. It was all useless. Iolaus was dying, and there was nothing he could do to stop it. But, if the water helped relieve the hellish heat consuming his friend, however briefly, then he would keep bathing him. If keeping him propped up helped him breathe even a fraction easier, then he would do it. And if holding him in his arms gave him any measure of comfort, however minor, then Hercules would never let him go.

And so the demigod kept his vigil through the night, growing more and more agitated as Iolaus grew steadily worse, but stubbornly kept hanging on. The hunter never awakened, but a little more of him slipped away with each passing hour. Coughing fits, violent and terrible, plagued him over and over. Hercules watched helplessly as his friend fought to draw air in, wanting to scream his frustration over not being able to do anything as his partner suffocated. Each time it happened, the demigod was sure that the end had come. But somehow, Iolaus always managed come through it, gasping in enough air to sustain him. The fever kept climbing higher as well, driving him to convulsions twice. But still, the hunter clung to life, not able to let himself give up.

Hercules didn’t know how much more he could take. As much as he couldn’t bear to lose his friend, seeing him suffering was worse. He was fighting a losing battle, and the demigod was beginning to long for it to be over, just so that his partner could find peace. Briefly, the idea floated through his head that he could help the hunter along. Iolaus was so weak, it wouldn’t be anything to aid him with an act of mercy. But as quickly as the thought had come, Hercules dismissed it. Obviously, Iolaus was still fighting deep in his soul, and if he wasn’t ready to lay down his sword, then Hercules couldn’t make the choice for him. And though he didn’t like to admit it, the selfish part of him was glad his tenacious friend was still clinging to life. As long as Iolaus still lived, there was still hope. Until the last breath sighed from his lips and the light and warmth left his body, there was still hope. And maybe even after that, if Hades needed a favor...

Shortly before dawn, as Hercules was starting to think his sanity would be shattered by the time Iolaus did finally give in to death, a soft light began to glow in the middle of the room. The demigod tightened his hold on his friend, his arms encircling him protectively, as he assumed it was Celesta coming to claim the hunter. He had wanted it over, yet when it came right down to it, he simply could not bear to let his partner go. But it wasn’t the goddess of the underworld coming to escort the hunter’s soul to Hades, but another, more welcome, figure.

“Aphrodite!” Hercules exclaimed, blinking to rule out the possibility that he was having a fatigue/stress induced hallucination. He had resigned himself to the fact that his divine relatives had turned deaf ears to his pleas, as they always did. “Please, can you help him?”

“Sorry, bro,” the goddess of love told him with a small shake of the head, her eyes glowing with sympathy as she took in the wasted condition of her Sweetcheeks. “I can’t. The best I can do is to try and help you.”

“If you know what’s causing this or how to reverse it, you have to tell me!”

“Easy, Hercules,” Aphrodite told him, holding out a hand to stop his protests. “I can’t get involved. But you already know the answers to the questions you have, so maybe I can sort of lead you to them.”

“Aphrodite, we don’t have time for this!” Hercules exploded. “If you know something, you have to tell me NOW!”

“Uh uh,” the goddess said firmly, her eyes narrowing a bit at his tone. “We do this my way, or else I’m out of here.”

The demigod closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, fighting the urge to grab his sister and shake some sense into her. But he knew she would disappear, and the last ray of hope that had flared when she had appeared would be gone. He would have to go along with her. It was Iolaus’ only hope.

“All right,” he agreed through clenched teeth. “We do it your way.”

“Good,” Aphrodite beamed, bouncing forward to sit next to him on the edge of the bed. “Ok. Now just think about it for a minute. You’ve seen Iolaus like this once before. Think about what had happened to him then.”

Hercules looked at her helplessly. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d seen his partner gravely ill or injured.

“Think,” the goddess commanded him. “Think about what’s been happening to him, and how its similar to what happened once before.”

The demigod looked down at his friend’s ashen face, his mind a blurred whirlwind of emotions. With a small shake of his head, he forced himself to calm down and focus, and think as his sister had instructed. Iolaus had fallen desperately ill, becoming incapacitated within the space of a day. There was something vaguely familiar about it....

“When Hera chained Prometheus,” Hercules blurted out. “Iolaus was wounded after we’d lost the ability to heal ourselves. He fell ill and almost died.”

“Right,” the goddess exclaimed happily.

“Does that mean Prometheus is chained again?” the demigod asked, his brow wrinkling in confusion.

“No, it has nothing to do with Prometheus. Think of another god associated with healing. One that you’ve maybe had a run-in with lately.”

“Apollo,” Hercules groaned. His sister was right. The answers were easy, and he should have thought of them himself, long before now. But Apollo never really embraced the healing aspect of his duties, unless he wanted to show off with a dramatic cure, so it was easy to forget that he had such power. But it made perfect sense. The sun god wasn’t happy about losing to his “bastard half-breed brother” yet again. Or maybe he was looking for revenge because of Hercules casting his mother into the Abyss of Tartarus, although the demigod doubted it. Gods just didn’t care that much about each other, even if they were mother and son. Pride was a much more likely motivator.

“He can’t do anything to you directly, so he’s taken away Iolaus’ ability to heal,” Aphrodite explained. “But there is a way that you can still save Curly.”

“How?”

“Think about it. There was another time when your family and friends were poisoned. You got the cure to save them.”

“I’m assuming you mean the time when Callisto poisoned them on my birthday and we had to go and get a golden apple from the tree of life.”

“Right,” the goddess laughed, clapping her hands together. “Oh, you are so good at this!”

“And you’re an idiot,” Hercules snapped, losing his temper. “Callisto burned the tree of life. There are no more golden apples. Which you would remember if you weren’t such a self-absorbed airhead. So if you’re through playing your little guessing game, why don’t you go on back to Olympus and leave us alone?”

Aphrodite stood up, smoothing out her sheer, pink outfit, looking as though the demigod had slapped her. When she got herself under control, she turned to him, her beautiful face cold and hard.

“I’m sorry I bothered you, Hercules,” she told him, a sharp edge to her sweet voice. “I only wanted to tell you that there is another tree of life, still growing golden apples. But since you obviously don’t need my help, I’ll just be going.”

The demigod struggled to untangle himself from his partner, pausing to lay him down gently before jumping up to face the angry goddess.

“Aphrodite, wait,” he pleaded. “Don’t go. What was that about another tree of life?”

“Why?” she asked him, lifting her chin haughtily. “I’m an idiot, remember? Why do you want to hear anything a self-absorbed airhead like me has to say?”

“Aphrodite, please,” Hercules wailed, taking her perfectly manicured hands in his own. “I’m sorry I said those things. I didn’t mean them. Hate me forever if you want, but please, don’t take it out on Iolaus. Please, you have to help him!”

The goddess of love looked at her brother, and instantly her anger evaporated. His eyes were filled with terror. The terror that he might lose his best friend, and more so, terror that he had just blown his one chance to save him. Aphrodite knew that Hercules hadn’t really meant what he’d said to her, but that his words were born out of worry and grief. After all, love was her business, and she was perhaps the only one who really knew just how deeply the two warriors cared about each other. But, she kept a stern face to keep the demigod hanging on the line for a few moments while she pretended to think about it.

“All right,” she finally relented. “I’ll tell you. But its going to cost you a favor on down the line.”

“Anything,” Hercules agreed recklessly, relief almost causing him to sag to the floor.

“The tree of life that was in the labyrinth of the gods was a cutting that Demeter took from the original and planted there. That’s the one that Callisto burned, but the original tree still stands in the Garden of the Hesperides. It was a wedding gift from Gaia to Zeus and Hera.”

“How do I find it?” the demigod asked.

“It won’t be easy,” the goddess told him. “You have to go and find Nereus, the old man of the sea. He knows all things, and if you can catch him, you can force him to tell you how to get there.”

“Aphrodite, look at him,” Hercules cried, waving a hand to the bed where his partner lay. “Iolaus is only going to last another few hours at most. I don’t have time for some sea journey, chasing after a god. He needs that apple NOW! Can’t you just take me to the Garden?”

“You know I can’t get involved in what another god has done,” she reminded him. “I’m taking a big chance just being here telling you this much.”

“He’s going to die, don’t you understand that?” the demigod demanded. “Please, Aphrodite, we need one of those apples. You have to help us!”

“I can’t,” the goddess insisted firmly. She pulled her hands away from his, and vanished in a shower of golden sparkles, leaving Hercules standing alone in the middle of the room, the last vestige of hope he had in saving his friend vanishing with her.

For long moments he remained standing, not able to comprehend the cruelty of what had just happened. To be handed a reprieve for his dying friend, only to have it snatched back out of his hands. He was well used to the inhumanity of the gods, but he had always thought Aphrodite to be above that sort of torment. But now he could see that the gods were all the same. Unfeeling to the core.

Hercules felt the rage boiling in him, ready to explode. He wanted to destroy the room, smashing everything to splinters in an effort to release his anger, much as he did when Serena was murdered. It was all too much. Bad enough that his loyal friend was suffering once more, dying, because one of the gods had a petty grudge against him. But then to be so close to a cure, only to have the door slammed in his face, the ultimate betrayal by someone he had previously cared about. Hercules vowed that the gods would know no rest, no peace. He would show them the mercy that they had shown him and his loved ones... None. The rest of his days would be solely devoted to demolishing everything the gods had ever touched or held sacred. None of them would go unscathed. Maybe he would be voluntarily negating Zeus’ protection order, thereby asking to be struck down, but he was going to take as many of those heartless bastards with him that he could. What was life anyway, without the one who made it worth living by his side?

But all that was later. The demigod took several deep breaths, forcing down all his rampant emotions, locking his rage away deep inside of him until a time when it could be unleashed. For now, Iolaus still lived, drawing in each shallow breath with a ragged, painful gasp. And while he lived, Hercules was going to be with him, savoring whatever moments they still had together, doing his best to ease his friend’s suffering and to help him into death’s inevitable embrace. The demigod went to kneel beside the bed, taking his partner’s limp hand in his own, raising the other one to stroke the golden curls. His friend had put up a noble fight, but the battle was almost over. It was time for Hercules to offer his comfort and love, and he was not going to waste this precious time thinking about the gods. Whatever time was left, it was for just the two of them.

Hercules startled as he heard a loud voice coming from the landing outside the door. He immediately recognized it as his sister’s, and the anger began to flare that she would dare intrude on his farewell to his brave friend. But then he froze, as her words began to sink in.

“Oh no,” the goddess called out. “I seem to have lost my ion stone somewhere. I hope I can find it before somebody else does, since it has the power to instantly transport anyone anywhere they want to go.”

Rising hesitantly, Hercules began walking slowly towards the door, pausing when something caught his eye. Something was lying on the floor in the spot where Aphrodite had disappeared. The demigod picked it up and moved closer to one of the candles, examining it. It was a small pink stone, glittering in the light of the flame. He squeezed it in his palm, marveling that it felt warm, pulsing slightly as if it were alive. Hercules had heard stories before of the magical ion stones, toys of the gods, each containing a different power. He’d never actually seen one, but there was no doubt he was now holding one in his hand.

“I mean, anyone that found it could use it to go wherever they wanted.” She was still going on, and the demigod opened the door to face her.

“I don’t know what to say,” he whispered, lowering his eyes in shame as he remembered the revenge he had vowed to extract from her.

“Just let me know if you see my ion stone,” the goddess grinned, giving him a wink. “It has the power to transport anyone, even a demigod, to wherever they command and back. I’d hate to see it fall into the wrong hands. You’ll keep an eye out for me, won’t you?”

“This stone you’ve lost, can it transport two people at once?”

“Surely you don’t mean to drag Sweetcheeks there with you?” she asked.

“I have to,” he told her. “I can’t explain it, but I need to stay with him. I don’t expect you to understand.”

Aphrodite studied her brother. Truth be told, she did understand. Hercules felt as if he could keep Iolaus from dying, as long as he was there to beg him to hang on and to lend him strength. He was so afraid that if the hunter couldn’t sense him close by, it would be enough to finally loosen the grip on life that he clung to so desperately. Well, maybe he was right. Besides, having Iolaus there would mean getting the apple to him that much quicker, and they had reached the point where every moment could mean the difference between life and death.

“Yes, it will take two people, as long as they are touching when the command is given to take them to the location.”

“Thank you, Aphrodite.” Hercules’ voice was warm with sincerity and gratitude. “But don’t you think the other gods might see this as ‘interfering’?”

“Whatever,” she replied dismissively. “They all find their little ways to cheat and bend the rules when trying to destroy you, so I should be able to do the same to help. It’s all up to Zeus to decide what ‘interfering’ is, anyway, and I have a hunch that he’ll be on my side with this one. But, don’t worry about me. Just get going and save my Sweetcheeks!”

Hercules gave her a grateful smile and dashed back into the room as she disappeared. He went to his friend’s bedside, stripping off the blankets and gathering him in his arms. To his surprise, Iolaus awoke, struggling to focus on him.

“Hey, buddy,” the demigod greeted him, unable to keep the excitement from his voice. “Listen, Aphrodite gave us a way to help you, but we have to go get it. Up for one more adventure?”

The hunter lacked the strength to speak, but his head shook ever so slightly. Hercules frowned, watching him as Iolaus rolled his eyes pointedly toward the corner of the room. Following his gaze, the demigod immediately understood what his partner was trying to tell him. He laid his friend back down on the bed and went to retrieve the clothing that was neatly folded in a pile on a chair in the corner. Hercules hated to waste any time, knowing that there was none to spare, and it wasn’t as if Iolaus could argue or fight him if he didn’t comply with his wishes. But he knew, as the hunter did, that there was a chance this could be his last adventure. And if they weren’t in time, Iolaus didn’t want to bail out in a borrowed chiton. He wanted to leave this life in his own clothes, as the warrior that he was.

It was not an easy task, wrestling the tight leather pants onto his friend’s sweat-soaked body, and in his hurry Hercules was not as gentle as he might have been otherwise. But finally the hunter was dressed, and the demigod strapped his sword around his own waist before gathering his partner once more in his arms.

“Hang on, Iolaus,” he urged, grasping the ion stone tightly in his fist. “Take us to the Garden of the Hesperides.”

There was a feeling of weightlessness, everything spinning as shapes and colors rushed by too fast to see. Just an instant, and then Hercules found himself standing in an orchard, dizzy and slightly sick, holding tightly to his friend. For a moment he stood still, trying to get his bearings and willing his stomach to stop churning. When his head cleared, he laid Iolaus gently under a tree in a cushion of soft moss and looked around him. He quickly spotted a huge tree covered in gleaming fruit growing alone in the valley below them. And he also spotted the most immense dragon he’d ever seen curled up around the tree.

“Aphrodite forgot to mention that,” he muttered to himself, glad he’d had the presence of mind to bring Iolaus’ sword with them.

He turned back to his friend, kneeling beside him. The hunter’s blue eyes were cloudy and dim, sunken into his ashen face. His blue tinged lips moved slightly as he tried to speak, but he couldn’t make the words come out. Each breath he managed to drag into his tortured lungs sounded like it would be the last. Hercules took Iolaus’ hand, pressing it between his own, feeling the clammy skin under the heat of the fever.

“Iolaus, listen to me,” he begged. “I have to run down the hill. There’s a tree with golden apples down there. They’ll cure you, but I have to go get one. You just hold on until I come back, ok? You keep fighting, and don’t you give up until I come back.”

The dull eyes stared back at him, and Hercules couldn’t read the promise he’d been hoping to see in their depths.

“Hang on, buddy,” he ordered desperately. “I’ll be right back, and we’ll get through this. Just hold on.”

The demigod got to his feet, stealing a backward glance at his friend as he began loping down the hill. Trying to push the pitiful sight from his mind, Hercules focused his attentions on the dragon, which had seen him approaching and was rising to meet him.

“Hello, there,” the demigod called out. “I don’t want to hurt you. My friend is very sick and he needs a bite of one of those apples or else he’ll die. I don’t suppose you could let me have just a piece?”

The dragon snarled, rings of smoke rising out of his flared nostrils.

“I didn’t think so,” Hercules sighed. Well, there was never any harm in asking.

Having no time for stealth or strategy, the demigod kept advancing. The dragon just watched him, puzzled perhaps by his brazen approached. Hercules got within a few feet of the tree, wondering if maybe he’d be allowed to grab one of the apples and retreat. But a fountain of flames shot out at him, and he realized he was going to have to fight.

Dodging the fire, the demigod rolled and came up next to the dragon. He pulled out Iolaus’ sword and thrust it forward with all of his might. But the weapon did not even make a scratch in the beast’s armor plated scales, and Hercules had to leap away as massive jaws swung around to snap mere inches from his retreating frame. He kept running until he reached a grove of trees a few hundred yards from the tree of life. The dragon apparently had no interest in chasing him, and curled up around the tree once more, keeping a watchful eye in his direction.

Frustration and despair overwhelmed the demigod, and he sunk down to the ground. The dragon’s hide was impenetrable, his sword was useless. He was too big to overpower, and there was no time for anything else. Hercules’ heart broke as he realized he was failing his friend. The cure was there within his reach, but he couldn’t get to it and Iolaus was out of time.

“Think,” the demigod hissed to himself. “There has to be something...”

What he needed was an old hunter’s trick. Iolaus had often told him that every animal had a weak spot, a place where it was vulnerable. All a good hunter needed to do was to figure out where that spot was and how to get to it. It was how Iolaus was able to repeatedly take down wild boars twice his size and not have so much as a scratch to show for it.

Obviously, this dragon was not vulnerable anywhere on the outside, which meant he’d have to get to it from the inside. But unlike a sea creature, Hercules doubted he’d survive a trip down the dragon’s gullet. He’d either be barbequed before he got that far or else he’d never make it intact past all those deadly sharp teeth. He’d have to find another way.

“Help me Iolaus,” he whispered, falling silent as he tried to think of what his crafty hunter friend would do. And then, like a flash of lightening, he had the answer. Stripping off his shirt, Hercules tied it quickly to make a crude sort of carrying bag. He leapt from the ground, jumping with god given strength to snatch an object from the tree branches above him. Stuffing it in his makeshift sack, he began running back toward the dragon.

The animal looked at him with almost human emotion. Weariness, maybe? Pity on the foolish demigod that just didn’t know when to quit? The dragon sent another blast of fire at him, but Hercules was ready for it. He leapt and dodged his way around the flames until he was too near the tree of life for the creature to risk spouting fire. The dragon lunged, mouth gaping as those lethal jaws sought to close around him. Hercules pulled a buzzing beehive out of his shirt, tossing it square into the monster’s mouth with deadly accuracy before springing out of the way. At first, nothing happened and the dragon charged him again. But then it stopped suddenly, bellowing smoke and fire with a loud roar of pain. It was too late though. The frenzied bees had already sealed the beast’s fate, stinging it on its insides where it was vulnerable.

Hercules didn’t stick around to watch the dragon as it fell to the ground, bucking and convulsing. He grabbed one of the apples from the tree, shaking the remaining bees from his shirt before untying it and slipping it back on as he ran up the hill, back to the orchard.

Iolaus was lying too still and too silent, and the demigod fell down beside his friend in a panic. He pressed shaking fingers against his partner’s throat, feeling a faint, erratic pulse. But the hunter was not breathing. Hercules lifted the apple in his hand, bringing it down hard against a knobby tree root sticking up from the ground, breaking the fruit into pieces. Pulling Iolaus up into his arms, the demigod seized a piece of the apple and held it over his friend’s slack mouth, squeezing it until a few drops of the juice trickled into his throat.

“Come on, buddy,” he begged desperately, his eyes peeled for any signs life. When he failed to see any, he repeated the process with another piece of the apple. And then another.

With a loud gasp, Iolaus bolted up, coughing heavily. When the spasms passed, he collapsed back into the demigod’s arms, his blue eyes wide and questioning.

“Here,” Hercules whispered, tears of joy shining in his eyes as he gave his friend another small piece of the apple. “Try this.”

As soon as the hunter had eaten the magical fruit, the wheeze left his lungs and a healthy color began replacing the pallor of death. As the fever abated and his strength returned, he sat up, shooting his partner a devilish grin.

“Any more of that, Herc? I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”

But the demigod didn’t return the smile. He sat, looking at the hunter soberly.

“What?” Iolaus asked him, shifting uncomfortably under the penetrating stare.

“A whole apple would make you immortal,” Hercules said softly.

“Surely you aren’t suggesting that I make myself immortal?” the hunter demanded incredulously.

“Why not?” the demigod questioned. “If you were immortal, then this would stop. The gods couldn’t use you to get back at me. You’d be safe, Iolaus.”

“Herc, I’m not about to tamper with the laws of nature and tempt the fates because you have a guilt complex. I wasn’t meant to be an immortal, and I don’t want to be. I just want to be a regular old mortal, who gets hurt, and gets sick, and will one day die. You’re just going to have to find a way to accept that.”

“How can I?” Hercules sighed. “Everything you just went through was because Apollo was trying to get back at me. When I think of how close I came to losing you...”

“But you didn’t lose me,” the hunter told him gently. “And you won’t. Not before its my time. Until then, you’ll find a way to get me out of these situations. You always do.”

“I’m flattered by your unwavering confidence in me,” Hercules told him dryly. “But do you realize that if it had taken me one minute longer to get that apple, you probably wouldn’t have made it?”

“So what,” Iolaus shrugged. “You just would have followed me to the other side and bullied Hades into letting me come back.”

The demigod tried to keep his expression stern, but as he met his partner’s gaze of pure innocence, he couldn’t hold back a grin.

“You’re probably right about that,” he agreed.

“What do you mean ‘probably’?” the hunter asked woundedly. When Hercules answered with an exasperated roll of the eyes, Iolaus stood up and held out his hand. The demigod removed the sword from his waist and returned it to its owner. Iolaus began strapping the weapon securely against his hip, but then hesitated and looked up shyly.

“Herc? Thanks. And I don’t just mean for the apple. But for everything you did before that. You know...”

“It wasn’t anything you wouldn’t have done for me.” Hercules got to his feet and held his friend’s even gaze. “And everything I said to you back in that room I meant, Iolaus.”

“Yeah, me too,” the hunter murmured, dropping his head and concentrating on fastening the buckle on his sword sheath.

“I’m just sorry you had to go through that,” the demigod continued. “I know you hate it when I blame myself for these things, but I can’t help it. It tears me apart to see you in pain, knowing its because of me.”

“Well, I’d say we’re even,” Iolaus said slowly, catching sight of the dead dragon down in the valley. “That’s your handiwork, I presume. The door swings both ways, Herc. I hate seeing you risk your life with something like that on my behalf.”

“It was the least I could do,” Hercules told him sardonically. “It was my fault you were...” Even now, after his partner was cured, he still couldn’t bring himself to say the word ‘dying’.

“It wasn’t your fault,” Iolaus protested. “It was Apollo’s doing. He’s responsible, not you. Look, we’re partners and we face the dangers together. If sometimes I get hit in the crossfire, well, that’s a price I’m willing to pay. Because my life is fighting by your side, Hercules, and its worth all the risks to me. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else or do anything else, and if this life comes with consequences, then I’ll accept them. You have to let me have that, Herc. You have to, or else you’re taking away whatever honor I’ve managed to earn. If you blame yourself and accept the guilt for every little thing that happens to me, then I’m not a warrior who’s trying to help people and make the world a better place, deciding on my own whether or not to face the risks. I’m just some fool following you around blindly, incapable of deciding for myself whether to fight or not. Now I know you don’t think of me that way, do you?”

“Of course not.”

“Then you have to let it go,” the hunter said gently. “I fight with you because I want to. If I get hurt, its because I chose to accept the risk. It has nothing to do with you. And if one of the gods wants to take a shot at me, then the blame is on them, not you. Until the day that you physically strike me down with your own conscious hand, you have absolutely nothing to feel guilty about. Can you understand that?”

“Yeah,” Hercules sighed. “I guess I can.”

“Good.”

The demigod looked at his friend, a smile playing about his lips.

“But that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

Iolaus threw his hands up in an exasperated I-give-up gesture, causing Hercules’ grin to widen immensely.

“By the gods, I’m glad you’re all right, buddy.”

“Thanks to you,” the hunter grinned back.

Hercules stepped forward, pulling his friend into a giant bear hug. Iolaus felt him trembling, realizing how truly scared he had been, and hugged him back just as hard, reassuring him that he really was all right.

“So,” the demigod asked when they pulled apart. “You’ve gotten all your energy back?”

“Oh yeah,” the hunter enthused. “I feel great.”

“Good,” Hercules told him. “Because when we get back to Velos, you have a rather large inn bill to work off.”

“Hercules, you wound me,” Iolaus moaned dramatically. “Don’t you have any more faith in me than that? Ten minutes of sweet talk with that innkeeper’s pretty daughter and we’ll have all the free hospitality we can handle. You ought to hang around and watch the master work. Take a few notes, and you might learn a thing or two...”

The demigod gave a shake of the head as his friend began bounding down the hill, chattering away as he went to take a closer look at the dead dragon.

“I think I liked it better when you were unconscious,” Hercules muttered to himself. But the renewed light in his eyes and the smile on his lips were more than enough to convince anyone watching that exactly the opposite was true. Although he still couldn’t help feeling guilty that his friend nearly lost his life because of Apollo’s grievance with him, for now he was just brimming with happiness. Iolaus had been pulled out of the cold grip of death and his health and vigor restored. The partners were together once more, back to back, and ready to tackle the next adventure down the road. And Hercules would not allow his own guilt to mar their precious time. His friend had been returned to him, and that was all he ever needed. Grinning, feeling only light and free, the demigod increased his stride, breaking into a run to catch up with the brother of his heart.

Finis

Disclaimer: No dragons were harmed, no goddesses were reprimanded for interfering, no innkeepers were stiffed on their bill, and no golden hunter/demigod teams were subjected to smarm overkill during the writing of this story.

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