This story takes place after the Xena episode "God Fearing Child". Normally, I try to pretend that storyline never existed, but for some reason I felt compelled to write this scene... :)
Iolaus set his sword down with an air of satisfaction. He had just spent the evening sharpening and polishing his blade, and now it gleamed and shone in the firelight. The hunter stood and stretched, listening to the howling wind beating about his shutters. Although it lacked excitement, this was one night that he was glad to have a warm, dry house to shelter in.
“The gods are really going at it tonight,” he muttered to himself, tossing another piece of wood onto the fire. It was late, but Iolaus wasn’t tired. He was in the mood for a drink, but unfortunately he didn’t have any ale or wine on hand, and he wasn’t about to brave the weather to walk to the inn. Sighing, he decided he’d have to make due with tea and so he filled a pot with water and hung it over the fire. A sudden knock on the door made him start in surprise, but the hunter hurried to answer it all the same.
“Hercules!” he exclaimed, finding his friend outside. “Come in. What in Hades are you doing walking around in a storm like that?” Iolaus shut the door against the wind and turned to his partner. The demigod was standing before him, and the hunter immediately saw that something was very wrong. “What is it? What happened?” But Hercules remained silent, staring at his friend with haunted eyes.
“You’re soaked,” Iolaus said softly, putting a hand on his partner’s arm. “Come over here by the fire.” He steered the demigod in and sat him down next to the crackling flames. The hunter tossed a few more wood pieces onto the blaze to build it up and increase the warmth it was putting out. He dashed into the bedroom and returned with a blanket which he draped over his friend’s shivering shoulders. Hercules pulled the blanket tightly around him and watched the fire blankly. Iolaus got a mug ready, and when his water had sufficiently heated, he made a steaming cup of tea and moved to crouch next to his friend.
“Here,” he urged, putting the mug into the demigod’s hands. “This will help warm you up.” Hercules looked at the mug he held for long moments before finally raising it up to take a sip. Iolaus rested a comforting hand on his shoulder, and the demigod reached up his own hand to briefly cover his friend’s. He gradually finished the rest of the tea then turned to look at his partner.
“You look like Tartarus, Herc,” the hunter said fondly. “Do you want to go back to the bedroom and lie down for awhile?” After a moment, the demigod nodded slightly. He rose and headed to the room, but turned back before he entered.
“Thanks, Iolaus,” he whispered.
Hercules sighed heavily as he lay in the dark. He was exhausted, but sleep would not come. His thoughts were in turmoil and refused to let him rest. The events of the last few days would not stop replaying over and over in his mind. It was like a nightmare. One from which he could not awaken. The demigod had killed his father, the king of the gods. As he had watched Xena with her infant daughter, he had known that he’d done the right thing. Zeus had given him no other choice. But as he left his friends, the impact of what he’d done hit him, and hit him hard. He had murdered his own father.
The demigod had gone into a state of shock. He’d begun walking, not realizing where he was going. His subconscious had given him a destination, and he’d followed it even though he was unaware. Hercules felt lost and alone, and even afraid. He was worried about retribution for his crime, and worried about the fate that would befall Zeus. And he was worried about how people would see him now. Could someone capable of killing his father still be a champion of mankind?
Hercules walked into the night, oblivious for the most part of the howling winds and the driving rains. He walked until finally he stopped in front of a small house. It was a house he knew well, and he could only hope it was currently occupied. The demigod knocked on the door, and when his partner answered, he felt some of the panic leaving him. Things were always easier with Iolaus by his side.
He couldn’t bring himself to tell his friend what happened right away. Hercules was exhausted both physically and emotionally and he desperately wanted to rest in the haven that the hunter created for him. He felt warm and safe for the first time since that terrible day, and he wanted to prolong it as long as he could. The demigod had known that Iolaus wouldn’t demand an explanation. As he predicted, the hunter had offered him love and support and respected his need to hold off on the conversation until tomorrow.
Hercules heard the door to the room creak open. Iolaus crept quietly in, fumbling slightly in the dark as he gathered blankets to make himself a pallet in the other room. On his way out, he paused to pick up the demigod’s clothing which had been carelessly dropped on the floor. They were still damp with rain, and Hercules smiled slightly to himself as he realized his friend was taking them to dry them in front of the fire.
In the morning, he would tell the hunter everything. He was dreading the conversation, as he was afraid of his friend’s reaction. But deep in his heart, he knew that his fears were unfounded. There was absolutely nothing he could say to Iolaus that would ever change the way the hunter felt about him. Hercules knew that his partner would look at him with those soft blue eyes which would be sharing his pain. Iolaus would always stand beside him, even against the rest of the world. He would comfort him and give him strength. Ultimately, he would help the demigod find peace.
Hercules rolled over and snuggled down under the warm blankets, listening to the rain beating on the roof. Throughout the years, Iolaus had remained largely unaware of the part he played in the demigod’s life. He had never understood his role, believing it to be a minor one at best. Nothing Hercules could do or say would ever convey the depth of love he had for his friend. He needed Iolaus more than anything else in the world, whether the hunter knew it or not. Only Iolaus could stop him from sinking into the bed of guilt and sorrow that he was creating. Only Iolaus could lift him back up and set him straight. Only Iolaus could make everything all right.
Slowly, Hercules felt himself begin to relax. His mind began to quiet, and a feeling of drowsiness began to settle over him. Under the hunter’s protection, sleep once again became a possibility. As he began to drift off, the demigod felt a stab of hope that things would be right again. Come morning, Iolaus would save him from himself.
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