Author's Note: Short of the matter is, (no pun intended) I find Iolaus' and Hercules drastic size difference as well as their personalities so adorable and, since there seems to be so little HLJ fanfiction on the net, this idea was born. And I wrote the last part at 2 AM without coffee, coke, or caffeine of any kind, so don't judge me. Enjoy, my lovelies!
Five Times Hercules Had to Carry Iolaus and One Time Iolaus Had to Carry Him.
"Iolaus?"
Standig a safe distance away, Hercules knocked on the wooden door, not wanting to get jumped again by his partner. Sneaking up on Iolaus was hard enough when he wasn't expecting you, let alone when you were seven feet tall and weighed more than two hundred-thirty pounds. Unfortunately, his diminutive partner not only weighed less than a hundred and fifty pounds but was also gifted with the swift, silent grace of a cat. He could pounce like a cat too, from any height, any angle, and when he landed, he always landed hard.
It was one of those things Iolaus was really proud of and he never, ever let an opportunity to use it on Hercules pass by.
In fact, the hero expected nothing less from his partner, considering the fact that he'd been waiting for him for over two weeks now in this seedy part of the city of Theus.
Hercules was late, having been waylaid by some villagers who accosted him with the news that all their firstborn sons had been kidnapped. It was quite an adventure freeing them from those Ares worshipping freaks in their secluded mountain temple, let alone bringing all the kids back safely through the wilderness. He was lucky he hadn't been lost in those mountains for months. He doubted more than two words of that explanation, however, would make it out of his mouth before a furious missile of golden curls and attitude laid his giant frame out flat on the floor.
"Iolaus?" he knocked again, this time harder. There was still no answer. The door shuddered as Hercules gave it a good punch with his fist. "Seriously, if what you really want is for me to come in there like an idiot, you better be ready!"
Some little doubt gnawed annoyingly at the bottom of his stomach. Iolaus wasn't one for the waiting game unless it was serious. For a hunter, he was somehow incapable of keeping quiet for long, especially if he hadn't seen Hercules for months…he should be flinging the door open, grinning, spewing out thirty words a minute while at the same time physically abusing Hercules for being late. He really, really wouldn't be staying inside, just waiting patiently like that.
Deciding to go ahead and meet with whatever calamity awaited him, Hercules gathered force in his legs and, pulling back his boot, kicked the door down with a crash. He rushed inside, hands held out, ready to grab, shoulders already tensing for the wild pounce that should come at any minute…but didn't.
The room was dark. The fireplace was dead and cold. Hercules widened his eyes as he peered into the gloom, blinking, trying to make sense of the dark, morphing shadows. That innkeeper must have misinformed him, or perhaps Iolaus had been forced to leave town early after some scandal, the kind of uhappy love triangle he always unwittingly managed to fall into. Wanting to make sure his friend hadn't left anything behind, Hercules reached back and pulled the door right off its already twisted hinges, letting more light in as he dropped the wooden partition with a heavy, muffled crack.
The pale beams of white daylight stabbed into the shadows and dimly lit up the middle of the room. Just at the edges, it cautiously reached into a corner and painted a mat of golden curls…but they were at ground level. Face hidden towards the wall and vest skewed awry, showing part of his lower back, Iolaus was lying in a crumpled heap on the floor, motionless.
Hercules crashed to his knees and turned him over, his heart jumping ever so slightly with relief as Iolaus gave a low moan. But as his bare fingers touched his friend's neck and forehead, he felt a black fist of worry punch him square in the chest…Iolaus was burning hot to the touch, his skin soaked with sweat. His bare chest rose and fell rapidly, struggling to pull air into his rattling lungs. The dirt on the floor and the curled up position he'd found his friend in was forcing him to fight for every breath.
Quickly, easily, Hercules scooped up his buddy and laid him out on the bed...the blankets were strewn around. He'd obviously been sleeping in it until recently. Iolaus must have come down with the fever too quickly to get help…maybe came home feeling drowsy, went to sleep, and woke up too weak to even get out of bed…or maybe he'd tried, which would explain what he was doing on the floor.
Hercules sighed, trying to keep a grip on himself. "See what happens when I'm not around?" he whispered, standing up. The room was shabby and ill kept…Iolaus had only planned to stay for a little while, certainly never intended to spend much time here except to sleep. It wasn't a fitting place to nurse him back to health. After he got Iolaus looked at, he'd have to purchase a better pair of rooms at the larger inn by the city gates.
Suddenly, the hunter's eyes cracked open. His voice was a rough, weak whisper. "Herc…" He didn't seem to have the energy to say anymore, except a hand weakly grabbed at Hercules' shirt. "Where the…Hades…were you?!" When I needed you was left hanging in the air, all but said.
Amused and yet relieved, Hercules smiled; he couldn't help it. The guy had attitude even when half dead to the world. "On a great adventure you're gonna love hearing about…" he suddenly wrapped one thick arm around Iolaus' shoulder, the other under his knees. "On the way to the healer's." He straightened, feeling Iolaus's burning body settle against his chest, one arm slipping down to hang awkwardly, swinging as Hercules rebalanced himself.
"No…" Iolaus whispered again, weakly protesting.
Hercules maneuvered his friend out of the door and into the sunshine. People turned to stare, but he didn't notice. He grinned at Iolaus' pale face, trying to hide his concern as his friend flinched at the brightness that obviously hurt his eyes. "Don't worry, I'll make sure it's a good, strong dosage…you'll be on your feet in no time."
"And you…" Iolaus was losing consciousness again, his eyes drooping. But he still had enough foggy rage left in him to finish the threat in a rasping wheeze, "will be sorry."
Hercules rolled his eyes fondly as he moved off down the street, still carrying his friend. At times like this, he was grateful Iolaus was so small…not that he'd ever dare to say that out loud.
The shrill, throat curdling screams echoed through the jungle, causing the hairs on the back of Hercules' neck to stand up, The trees behind them creaked and snapped as the creatures chasing them burrowed through the canopy with heedless, horrible force. A shower of leaves and bracken trailed after their path through the treetops.
Iolaus was leaping ahead of him, his small yet lithe body speeding through the forest like a deer. He'd always been insanely fast. And agile. Necessity born of a hard life and the bonus of Eastern training had simply taken those qualities and sharpened them into a deadly weapon; one Hercules appreciated having at his back during dangerous situations. It was especially useful now, when they were being chased by the Diraes…the Children of the Furies.
Not nearly as terrible their hideous mothers, thank goodness, but just cruel and persistent and self-righteous enough to make life very, very difficult for anyone they selected as a target. Their habit of using five razor sharp claws to tear your brain right out of your skull also helped.
However, they just might reach sanctuary at the Temple of Zeus if they kept up this speed. That way they could avoid a huge fight and calling down the creatures' mothers if any of their darlings were injured. The Diraes were flying, but the dense canopy was making it difficult for them to keep up their speed or dive down for an attack.
Ahead of him by several strides, Iolaus vaulted over a thick tree trunk that blocked his way and disappeared down the other side. Less gracefully, Hercules clambered over and dropped heavily to his feet, stumbling with an oath as he almost stepped on Iolaus. He raced forward a few steps, giving his buddy room to get up and instantly swing back into pace. The hunter was already struggling up from where he had fallen, but a pained hiss escaped from between his teeth and he fell back against the old wood with a squawk, causing Hercules to halt instantly and look back.
Iolaus was holding his foot up gingerly, his face tight with pain.
Hercules glanced at the boot and then gave him the look that said, oh-great-you-had-to-go-and-do-it-didn't-you, shaking his head slightly as one would for a baby who pushed the square block into the triangle hole.
Exasperated, disgraced, Iolaus gestured helplessly, furious at the situation, at the stupidly senseless handicap that the Fates seemed to have literally tripped him with at such an inopportune time. He quickly shot back the, yeah-I-did-and-just-you-dare-say-something look.
Hercules risked one glance behind them. He saw a flash of claws and scaly skin and heard the rattling, unnerving hiss of a hundred vipers that served as hair for the Diraes. That was enough. He gave Iolaus a look that telepathically told him exactly what he wanted. In the middle of battle or anywhere else, the two friends really didn't need words to convey messages. They were open scrolls to each other.
Iolaus understood. His face flushed with annoyance, but he was ready. Hercules turned around and braced himself as the hunter vaulted onto his back, arms wrapped tightly around his shoulders, his good leg tucked around Hercules' waist so he could leave the hero's arms free.
Hercules set off through the woods again, barely feeling the weight…it was more like he had a slightly heavy pack on his back. It took only a slight adjustment to his balance and he was off, his speed hardly affected.
Iolaus, meanwhile, had recovered his sense of humor. He leaned over and whispered wildly in Hercules' ear, "faster!" Like a little kid riding piggyback.
Which was, Hercules found himself thinking, a fairly accurate description of the situation. He found the energy to elbow Iolaus in the side, nearly unbalancing the both of them. "I get my turn as soon as we're out of this mess, buddy," he threatened jokingly. Both men grinned at the mental image of tiny Iolaus staggering under the weight of the giant Hercules.
"Herc…I hate you."
"Good. You're really sounding the part now," Hercules grinned, stepping gingerly to avoid flowers as the hysterically laughing crowd threw them into their path.
"I'm being serious."
Iolaus' voice, coming from behind a snow-white veil that obscured everything but his bright blue eyes and the golden curls peeking out, made Hercules burst out laughing. He almost dropped his friend but managed to retain his hold on the white robed form with an upward heave and an alleyoop! That nearly made Iolaus' head snap backwards. Iolaus instinctively grabbed at the orange bridal headdress to keep it from coming off. "Why in the name of the gods didn't you just carry me over the threshold?! Why do I have to dress up like this?!"
Hercules sounded like he'd said it a hundred times. "I already told you. This…Hymen or whatever…loves a good wedding. It needs to think we're a happy couple, and it needs to hear the wedding celebrations and the laughter and singing. Now stop it…" he grinned slyly, "you're making a scene."
Iolaus stiffened in outrage. "And this isn't a scene?! Is this your idea of normal?!" He began fidgeting, making it difficult for Hercules to hold on. "My sword's poking me! I hope it rips through this stupid dress!" Hercules just rolled his eyes at the increasing franticity in Iolaus' voice.
As if struck by a thought, Iolaus suddenly pulled himself almost to a sitting position and pointed accusingly in Hercules' face, causing his friend to stop and look at him with surprise, not sure what he'd done but quickly putting on an innocent gaze to repudiate it.
Oblivious to any weak pretentions on the demigod's part, Iolaus hissed angrily, his voice squeaking when it rose above a whisper, "You did this just because you got that stupid idea in your stupid head and wanted me to do it! You did it on purpose! I know you…you're enjoying this. Tell me you're enjoying this!"
"Alright," Hercules replied calmly, "I'm enjoying this." Iolaus went limp with a violent groan of exasperation as Hercules grinned and started walking again. "Besides," the demigod couldn't help but say, smiling straight ahead, "you look more stunning now than you ever did in your life."
He instantly regretted it as the business end of Iolaus' scabbard poked him in the stomach, hard. He gasped, his hands tightening with pain as it was his turn to look into Iolaus' face, enraged. The only thing that kept him from tossing down the hunter like a bundle of mischievous laundry and teaching him a lesson right then and there was the fact that everyone was watching…and they had more important things to do right now, such as a creature that was violently absorbing all the married couples in Greece.
Cradled in arms that could have snapped his back in minutes, Iolaus serenely stopped whatever furious things were about to spew from his friend's mouth by lifting a calm, commanding hand, his sparkling blue eyes shaded by lashes that batted flirtatiously as he held his head at a coy angle. He looked and sounded disturbingly feminine. "Now now, you're making a scene…not today, of all days. This is our day."
They were reaching the cottage now, framed by flowers that waved invitingly in the bright sunlight. The laughter and the singing had died away…people began hanging back, their eyes darting nervously at the sky and then back at the hero dressed like a groom carrying the…other hero…dressed as a bride.
"Why couldn't I be the man?" Iolaus grumbled again suddenly as Hercules started towards the threshold.
Hercules gazed heavenwards as he stepped over, still carrying the bride…err, hunter. "Iolaus, I've always tried to hide the painful truth from you, but I'm just a little bit stronger and way heavier."
"If that's a jab at my height…" Iolaus growled threateningly.
Hercules shook his head, a reluctant smile creeping over his face. Iolaus could always make him smile, even in the worst situations. "Fine. If you think you can really carry me, you have my full permission to try."
"Yeah?" Iolaus' pride seemed appeased, even though both of them knew he'd never take up the challenge…unless he was drunk.
Suddenly, the door of the cottage slammed shut with an unnatural boom of force. Hercules wheeled around instantly, dropping Iolaus who landed lightly on his feet, already ripping the dress as he whipped his sword out and stepped sideways to give Hercules room.
Standing right in front of the door was a tall…thing that looked like a man covered with flowers and shreds of colored cloth. But the flowers dripped with venom that sputtered angrily as it ate steaming holes through the wooden floor. The golden eyes flashed from one man to the other, then flooded with an unwholesome, unfriendly glow.
Hercules bent into a fighting stance, ready to hammer into the creature the very second that mysterious electric signal sparked between him and his partner, signifying the attack. "Yeah, you can try and carry me," he finished, not even glancing at Iolaus as he moved forward, giving the creature a bigger target so Iolaus could attack it from the side while it was occupied, "but…"
"Later, right?" Iolaus finished for him, lifting the sword up to his face as the Hymen pointed ominously at the two.
"Right," Hercules ducked the jetstream of acid that burned through the air above his head.
Five minutes. It only takes five minutes to make your way up the rickety, creaking tavern stairs, go into your room, carelessly pile all your gear in the corner and then go back downstairs, hoping against hope that your 'friend' has ordered your usual drink and not some exotic, undomesticated brew that literally destroys the bridges between your mind and reality and makes you do unspeakably stupid things that he'll never, ever let you live down, unless of course he does something even stupider.
However, it also apparently takes only five minutes for that friend, Iolaus, to completely forget about you and what you said earlier about keeping a low profile. Either that, or his definition of a low profile consists of getting into a noisy, furniture breaking, wall thumping brawl with a dozen hefty looking soldiers, all of them at least a foot taller than he is.
Hercules shook his head in exasperation, his eyes following the head of golden curls as it bobbed and tossed over a sea of human arms and legs, punctuated by sharp crashes. Then, resigned as always, he stepped into the fray with the ease of a tall ship, shoving people aside and using the flat of his hands to smack helmeted heads out of his way. "Iolaus!" he cried, twisting evasively out of the grasp of three men before kicking one in the backside.
A writhing crowd of combatants swelled up for an instant and then spat out the Hunter like a cannonball, borne over backwards by the force of a body someone else had thrown. He slammed into Hercules' shoulder, nearly toppling them both.
He was snarling something as he got back to his feet and lunged frantically at the crowd, who had by now forgotten exactly who was friend and who was foe. Everyone was open game but especially the little midget who'd started it all. Interrupting him mid-charge, Hercules snatched Iolaus by the vest, pulling him back as his friend literally squawked in surprise. Iolaus twisted in his grip like an electric eel. Once Hercules was sure he had his attention, he dropped him before a wild but well-aimed kick could hit him in the eye. "What. Did you do?" He asked sternly, at the same time elbowing a ruffian in the stomach as he tried to jump him.
"Don't you give me that tone!" Iolaus snapped, exploding into a barrage of karate kicks, sending people flying even though he stayed in range of Hercules' voice. "It was this guy…"
"What. Guy?" Hercules had heard the same story a million times and really wasn't looking forward to a repeat.
"I don't know now!" Iolaus replied, exasperated, as if Hercules was unreasonable to expect him to remember exactly who in the mass of flying bodies was the original culprit, "He called me…"
"Little?" Hercules supplied tiredly, flipping one soldier over while tripping the other with his foot.
"Yeah."
"So you called him…"
"…fat."
"Iolaus!" Hercules cried sharply.
"What?!" Iolaus snapped back like a petulant child as he glared at Hercules with burning blue eyes.
Hercules' sky blue eyes glowered just as fiercely with righteous anger, like a disapproving older brother's would, "we're staying in a strange part of town near the biggest barracks in the city…you just couldn't wait to gratify your ego, could you?!"
Iolaus didn't answer a moment and Hercules fantasized that maybe he was actually thinking seriously about his lack of self-control. Then, Iolaus slid between a man's legs, kicked him square in the stomach with a wicked thumping sound and then swayed to a stand again, blowing hair out of his eyes as he danced from one foot to the other defiantly, "Well he is fat!"
"Iolaus!" Hercules cried again. I can't believe I'm even trying.
"What!"
"You are little!" Hercules raised his eyebrows and his free hand in a gesture that spoke volumes, "deal with it!" The other hand was clenched in the shirtfront of a local peasant who'd tried to break a bowl over his head.
The Hunter graced him with a look of stupefaction that slowly changed to outrage and then just plain rage. "Oh yeah?! You're…" Iolaus paused in midswing, nearly getting his face remodelled as he let his guard down, searching for just the right word, "…ugly!"
"Ugly?" Hercules made the what? face at an invisible audience, mouthing the word in utter surprise since it made no sense and wasn't even serious enough to be insulting. He caught and tossed a soldier into the wall with a crash and a shower of plaster before looking back at Iolaus, who had lulled in his fight to watch for Hercules' reaction. "Ugly?"
The Hunter had the grace to look sheepish, making a face as he thought it over. "Ok," he admitted, "so I could do better. I could call you a demigod."
"Oh, thanks," Hercules found himself laughing, despite the fact that he'd vehemently promised himself he would stop laughing at Iolaus' jokes during barfights, "now I'm really mad!"
Iolaus laughed too, chuckling as he swung low to the ground and kicked a guy's legs out from under him. When he came up again, hands out in a protective stance, Hercules moved in to stand at his back, punching and body slamming a clear path to the door for the innocent bystanders who were crowded in terror behind any object that seemed remotely protected.
They rushed past him, some shrieking, the others laughing wildly and calling out bets on the winners. Hercules couldn't help but smile in amusement as he gently plucked a heavy tankard out of the hand of a wizened old grandfather figure who was using it to brain anyone who was unfortunate enough to stumble close to him. He bundled the protesting old man out the door and then turned back to the fray.
Iolaus pounded a heavy, broad shouldered soldier into the ground with some strategically placed kicks and light yet swiftly devastating punches. Then he turned around to look at Hercules and grin like the little idiot he was.
But then a scrawny, thin-faced man wriggled out of the crowd and raced at Iolaus' back, his face contorted by rage. He pulled his fist back, his eyes on the Hunter's curly head.
"Iolaus! Behind you!" Hercules cried.
Iolaus's eyes widened and, arms flying into position, speedily turned…
Straight into the fist as it flew into his face in just that perfect, painful way, eliciting an audible crunch. His eyes rolling back into his head, Iolaus flew backwards and landed heavily on the floor with a thump of dust and woodshavings.
Hercules grimaced. He knew he should have raised his eyebrows and moved his head down just a centimeter, in that special way that meant Iolaus should have ducked as well as turned around. "My bad," he muttered angrily to himself, quickly rushing over to haul his friend over his shoulder and make their retreat as quietly and discreetly as possible.
He kicked a few stray combatants out of his way as they charged him or tried to tear Iolaus from his protective grip. As he staggered up the stairs, he could hear Iolaus' breath hitch as it became less regular…he was waking up.
Oh great, Hercules thought, quickly speeding up so that they could make it to their room before Iolaus attracted everyone's attention again with his outraged squawking; get ready for a peaceful, friendly stay in a tiny room with Mr. Cannot-See-Ugly-Guys-Taller-Than-Me-Without-Punchi ng-Them. I wonder if that includes Guys-Taller-Than-Me-Who-Got-Me-Punched-Out?
CRACK.
The Barbarian's black-painted face snapped backwards as Hercules' fist slammed into it, using momentum the demigod stepped forward, forcing the limp body to the floor even faster than gravity would have done otherwise. Hercules wasn't even looking at his fallen foe as he quickly caught the blade of another soldier who was trying to take advantage of his exposed position, trying to slice down through the hero's unprotected side.
The sharp steel bit through Hercules' palm and drops of blood trickled down his wrist, but he didn't even notice; he was too angry.
Angry because Iolaus had followed him outside the city, was probably somewhere in the fighting, perhaps injured, maybe even…
He was supposed to stay inside with the besieged villagers, to lead them and calm their fears, keep their heads cool. Hercules told him to stay there, quite clearly. He couldn't have been more specific. But of course Iolaus hadn't listened at all. It just wasn't something Iolaus did: listening. In one ear and out the other, faster than an arrow. Hades, you could probably fire an arrow right through his head and out the other side without hitting anything.
"Iolaus!" he roared, latching both fists onto a catapult and heaving it out of the mud with a squelching sound. He threw all his weight and prodigious strength into it, never pausing to watch as the wooden construction hit the ground with a boom and collapsed under its own weight.
The last of the barbarians were being driven off as a friendly army chased them across the fields farther north, slaughtering anyone who stopped or fell.
"Iolaus, answer me!"
"Herc, will you shut up? I'm right here."
Hercules whirled around and saw Iolaus leaning casually against a wooden post, surrounded by a slew of unconscious soldiers. Besides looking a little bruised and battered and out of breath, he seemed fine.
Hercules felt his temper boil: Iolaus always told him that it was hard to get started, but once it had, everyone should run and hide. And common, even prayer wouldn't help. He'd punched out Ares, the god of war. Although maybe surviving Zeus as a father was more impressive.
No. Stop it. I'm not laughing at his jokes today.
Hercules punctuated the thought by forming a fist and, with a reverberating crash, sending a shield towards the war-clouded sky and out into the horizon. Iolaus watched it go, shielding his eyes before he looked back.
His face was wry; he knew exactly what he'd done. "Ok, Herc, I didn't stay."
"No, you didn't," Hercules' tone was tight and dangerous as he wheeled around and stalked off, trying to walk away the adrenalin before he really broke something.
Iolaus struggled to keep up with him, his steps a little heavier than normal as his arms flew wide, "look, I'm sorry. But I couldn't let you go out alone and I thought…"
"That I needed your help?" Hercules laughed shortly, bitterly, "why, why would you think that? The people in the fortress needed your help way more than I did."
Iolaus knew Hercules' words were always painted by his emotions, even if he didn't always mean the angry ones. He let the implied insult slip by without hurting him. He frowned slightly with concern. "Hey, big guy, we're partners, alright?" his tone darkened, "and I don't have to take orders from you. I'm not your soldier."
Hercules stopped short and threw his arms out wide, letting the truth slip out, "I know that. And I know I can't tell you what to do. I know that you fight beside me all the time and face whatever I face. But this was different, Iolaus. This was an army. We're only lucky Persuthes men came before dawn…"
"Yeah," Iolaus snapped suddenly, his own anger rising, "before your supposed mission became what it really was, a suicide assignment!"
That was why the Hunter had come; to protect his friend and be with him until the last moment, partners.
Swallowing the rise of gratitude, Hercules lifted a hand up, "you know what? I'm not even gonna try." Yeah, it was going to be a suicide mission. Which is exactly why Iolaus wasn't supposed to come. And he hadn't told Iolaus that, which suddenly made him feel guilty. Which made him want to stop the conversation before he had to admit that. He started stalking towards the gates again. Then, a nobler impulse took hold of him and he turned back towards Iolaus, who was still behind him, looking both angry and perplexed.
"And you know something else? It wasn't just you coming out here like an idiot because I was an idiot and tried to get away with getting only one of us killed. These guys were huge and there was an army of them. You might have been killed or captured or wounded…"
Hercules halted short as he saw Iolaus' 'lying face' come into being at those last words. Iolaus had grown up a thief and, even today, still stole a few hearts here and there. He could fool anybody, especially with those big, innocent blue eyes and charming smile. But after knowing him since they were ten years old and suffering countless pranks, tricks, and stolen sweetrolls, Hercules was immune. He pointed at the Hunter grimly, "You're wounded."
Iolaus tried to shrug. "Ah…it's just a scratch. So, where is Persuthes, anyway?"
Ignoring Iolaus' stalling tactic, Hercules realized now why his friend had been lagging behind all this time. He stepped back and pulled Iolaus vest wide before his partner could smack his hands away with a sharp exclamation. There was blood, clumsily held back by a strip of someone else's tunic. It was still crimson and fresh. Judging by how well Iolaus was bearing it, it was just a fleshwound. But still, as Hercules gave him a good look, he saw that as they stood there, his friend was swaying ever so slightly.
He raised his eyebrows, "a scratch?"
Iolaus rolled his eyes. "Well, compared to being bitten by Arachne, yeah."
Hercules shook his head. "Well, good news is you tasted so bad she'll never try it again. Why don't you just tell me these things?"
"Hey, HEY," Iolaus pushed a judging hand against Hercules' chest, as much to accuse his friend as to keep his own body steady, "you were the smart guy who didn't tell me about that arrowhead lodged in your…"
Hercules swiftly interrupted him, grabbing his wrist and pulling it as far up his neck as Iolaus' short height would allow. With his other arm, he slipped it just around Iolaus' shoulder blades, easily taking almost all of the weight off of his friend's feet.
"Wait a minute…I can walk, Herc, common!" Iolaus complained, wincing in pain at the same time.
Hercules half smiled against his will, as amused as he had been angry before. "Look, what is it you always say? You've got the charm…"
Iolaus grimaced, knowing what was coming, "and you've got the muscle," he ended, grudgingly.
"Soooo…." Hercules prompted.
"We might as well use it," in the tone of I hope you sit on a scorpion.
"Right you are, partner. Just…stay with me." Hercules added a little worriedly, as Iolaus suddenly sagged in his grip, eyelids drooping as adrenalin left his body and fatigue slammed roughly, heavily into place.
"And just where…" Iolaus' voice was hoarse with pain, "would I be going in this condition?"
"Oh, it's just a scratch, remember?" Hercules couldn't help teasing as he half-carried his friend towards the gates of the city.
"Please," Iolaus growled, "just cut the jokes, big guy, you're speaking to the King of Comedy."
Hercules rolled his eyes, feeling that unwilling half smile creep up his face.
"So, tell me again why we're doing this?" Iolaus said nervously, staring up at the roof. A roof that was line with spikes, hacked out of stone and coated with sharp, black metal. Any wrong move, wrong word, wrong breath even could cause them to fall, pinning the two heroes to the ground below like flattened, impaled bugs.
Now who would want that?
"Think Mnemnet," Hercules advised, stepping forward almost noislessly, "Ares is more full of himself than anyone I know. If we steal his precious Tiger-Eye, than he'll forgive Mnemnet her debt and let her family live in peace. Simple as that."
"Ok, right," Iolaus agreed sagely, 'what about the part where Ares just decides to send some horrible monster after us to kill us?"
Hercules stared into the air for a moment, pretending to think hard about something Iolaus knew was a none-issue to him. "Then we'll…deal with that part when it happens."
Iolaus rolled his eyes derisively. "Oh, great. That's planning ahead."
Even as he spoke, he heard a barely audible snikt below his right foot. Then a grating sound. Before he even had a chance to duck, a huge, shining scimitar slid out of the wall, straight towards his neck, obviously intending to behead him. Iolaus blinked, then saw that Hercules had caught the weapon by the shaft, his great hand not even trembling. The metal was close enough, however, for the Hunter's hot breath to leave a mist on it. He huffed with pent up anxiety, smiling nervously at Hercules as he realized just how close he'd come to death…again.
Hercules smiled, lifting his eyebrows. "You were saying?"
"You gotta admit, it's a better pun than you could ever come up with," Iolaus argued, trying to ignore the voice in back of his brain that was screaming against the very idea of head and beheading and planning ahead.
Hercules shook his head. "Ouch. Seriously, you're giving Ares a score over me?"
Iolaus laughed shortly, ducking under the weapon and moving forward ahead of Hercules. "Your poor big brother doesn't have anything else going for him. And your puns do stink."
And another snikt. This time, they both dove forward bodily as a prickling sensation crawled rapidly along the stone walls. The Tiger's Eye cast a dim, greenish glow not too far ahead. If they could only make it through these traps in one piece…seriously, Iolaus was certain Hercules could get a steady job testing Chambers of Death, Corridors of Swinging Knives, and Pit of Serpents for all the self-obsessed, megalomanic villains of the known world.
It was all going so smoothly. It was all going so well. They reached the gem alive, Hercules standing tall and proud and triumphant over it as always. Then, even as Iolaus watched, he reached out to grab it.
Instantly, he threw his head back and roared with pain and shock. Green energy whipped out and curled around his friend's legs and arms, burning the skin, the clothes, ravaging the great heart inside until Hercules…the mighty, the unstopabble…fell back and collapsed in a smoking, crumpled heap.
"HERC!" Iolaus screamed in horror, diving down and sliding forward, kicking the treacherous gem away from them both where it had rolled out of Hercules' limp hand. He felt his friend's pulse at the neck…thank the gods, it was still beating. And he was breathing, if erratically.
Even as he frantically tried to bring some life back into his partner, a low, smooth chuckle echoed from behind him. Knowing who it was even before he saw him, Iolaus barked, "Ares!" and wheeled around protectively to face their enemy, "what did you do?"
"Me, shrimpy? Nah, nothing. Not my fault if Hercules went snooping around my Temple. Zeus might not allow me to kill him, but I am allowed to protect my things from little brother's grimy hands and…oops, looks like I'm redecorating."
The very stones seemed to shift under Iolaus' feet as a gradual, muffled roar burst from the ground. Iolaus grabbed at Hercules' limp body to keep them both steady. "What… what's that?!" He exclaimed, a pit of worry beginning to murmur unpleasantly in his stomach.
Ares crossed his arms and smiled, flicking his long black mane away from his face. "Out with the old, in with the new. In a few moments, this place will be nothing but a pile of marble. And godly remains, since Hercules doesn't look too good."
"Enough of your games, Ares!" Iolaus snapped, somehow hoping the crazy god would listen to him, "you've won!"
An unpleasant light glimmered in Ares' dusky brown eyes. "Won?" he sneered with growing rage, "oh no, this game's just beginning! You choose the winner, shorty! Either you leave Hercules here and make your own way out, or you stay and try hauling the god of heftyness out of a collapsing maze. Either way, Hercules dies! And hey, if you try what I think you'll try, I'll…" he laughed suddenly through his nose, "I'll kill two birds with one stone."
Realizing it was hopeless, Iolaus' voice turned acidic. "You should really stick to puns."
The smile on Ares' face only broadened. Undeterred, he snapped his fingers and disappeared in an explosion of light.
Iolaus wasted no time. Getting down on all fours, he stuck his head down and literally burrowed under Hercules…like he used to do to his father's sheep dog when he was only four years old. Grunting, he managed to lift Hercules' warm, limp weight onto his shoulders. But when he tried to stand, his wrists slipped on the shaking flagstones and gave way. He fell flat on his face.
By the time he struggled up again, he was beginning to realize how impossible ridiculous this was. Maybe he needed some help. Ok, think, think, who's a god? Who's helpful and not our enemy and not plain stupid? Who's the god of strength? Oh, that's right. You're carrying him, Iolaus, get a brain!
All those jokes they'd made before about carrying each other…Iolaus sure felt like he could eat them now. And pay for them. He finally managed to get his legs under him, clutching weakly at Hercules' massive frame, pulling two biceps down on either side of his head, biceps that were big enough to fit his head inside, curly hair and all.
He staggered towards the door and down the corridors. He'd made it less than halfway out when he realized he was starting to pant. Bent over double, swaying with every dip in the floor as the entire structure shook and thrashed in seeming pain, his arms were beginning to tremble. Hercules was just too hevy.
"God of…heftyness…" he wheezed aloud, "I should use…that."
He tightened his sweaty grip, forcing himself to remember that his friend was counting on him, helpless, inert, and completely dependent on Iolaus for safety and protection. Hercules had carried Iolaus out (and into) danger more times than he could count. It was time Iolaus returned the favor.
Just this once, he added ruefully, as something popped in his shoulder.
It was the explosion that awakened Hercules. The demigod flinched as dust and tiny shards of rock peppered his face. With a groan, his hands flew up to shield himself as he slowly, painfully turned onto his side.
As the earth stopped shaking and the air stopped raining hot grains of earth, he sat up and blinked, allowing his head to clear. The last thing he remembered was a terrible, burning pain that raced up and down his bones like lightning. Now, it was just a dull ache in his nerves. And he was…outside?
"So you're finally awake, god of heftyness?"
Hercules turned, barely recognizing the hoarse voice. Iolaus was slumped against a tree not too far from him, as if they'd both been flung into this little clearing by the exploding temple. Which was probably the case.
The Hunter looked completely exhausted, his curls limp on his sweating forehead, his lips parted as he puffed in and out, arms spread out at odd angles. He saw Hercules taking in all these details with concern and quickly tried to deflect attention. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not moving. You can go to Hades before I stir a muscle."
'Do you even have any left?" Hercules asked, worried, as he made his way over, "what happened while I was out?"
"What…" Iolaus' voice was raw with grumpy rage and exhaustion, "does it look like?"
Hercules' blue eyes widened. "You…?"
Big silence.
Iolaus snorted. "Well, don't look so surprised. It's good to know, isn't it, that no matter how deep into trouble you get…" he tried to pump one arm in a triumphant show of strength, but hissed as strained muscles screamed in protest. He settled for a defiant glare at his giant friend, "no matter how deep, there's always gonna be some little guy to bail you out."
Then, proud, grateful, Hercules smiled. "Yeah," he clapped a hand on his partner's sore shoulder, accidentally hurting him and eliciting a yelp, "that's good to know."
FINIS