Authoress' Note: This story beings immediately after the events of the Season 6 Xena episode 'Soul Possession', and approximately eight years before the pilot episode of 'Being Erica' takes place.
PS. While you have to be familiar with Hercules; The Legendary Journeys and Xena: Warrior Princess to read this story, you don't need as much background on 'Being Erica' to follow along. In that series, Erica Strange, a 31-year-old woman living in Toronto in 2009, undergoes the same time travel therapy featured in this story, in order to learn from her regrets over her past choices. While Erica's doctor is Dr. Tom, the therapist featured in 'Being Ares', Dr. Naadiah, appeared in a handful of 'Being Erica' episodes and was once Dr. Tom's therapist and his mentor during the series. In short, 'Being Erica' lends its premise and a few of its characters, but this is first and foremost a Hercules: The Legendary Journeys / Xena: Warrior Princess fanfic.
Being Ares: Pilot
Part 1
A Xena: Warrior Princess / Being Erica Crossover
By Arianwen P. F. Everett
Ares breathed in the thin, cold air near the top of Mount Fuji, and sighed. Somewhere deep inside, he'd known he'd end up here this afternoon. He'd put on a good show for himself, dressed in his favorite suit, mounted his best chopper to carry him though the California landscape to her side, but he'd always known she'd win. She always won, and now without the contract there was no guarantee he'd see her again. Oh, he knew who she was this lifetime, but Annie Day was as mortal as Xena, and she'd been gone in a few decades at most. Who she reincarnated as next was anyone's guess. Eventually she'd reach Nirvana and then there wouldn't be anymore reincarnations. He'd be in love with her forever and she would be no more. For the first time, he finally understood Callisto's obsession with attaining oblivion. Right about now it sounded pretty good to his own ageless ears.
The feeling of another god's arrival left him sighing once more. He didn't need their bullshit right now. Yes, he went over the top at the press conference, and yes, he risked exposure, but he didn't care. They knew that as well, and yet they'd have their stupid hearing anyway. Athena was long dead, but her bureaucracy lived on.
"You okay?" Aphrodite probed gently, earning a small chuckle from her brother. Without answering, he breathed in deeply one more time before resting his chin against his well-defined chest, as if he were so tired that holding up his head was too much effort. Considering what he'd been through today, what had been reignited in him, she'd lay odds that even as a god he was truly just that tired.
"So, when's the wrist slapping?' Ares finally asked five minutes later.
"I called in a favor with Baby Bro. He was ticked about the contract, but he convinced them that a hearing wasn't going to change anything. Demeter gaveled out the meeting and set our lawyers out to spin it. Nobody's happy, but nobody was surprised either. After all this time, they know what she does to you," Aphrodite explained, snuggling her golden lucks against the back of her brother's jacket. She was here for the duration, just like him. Ares heart was broken, again, and so Aphrodite couldn't be anywhere else.
"Knowing Jercules, he's taking the three of them out for dinner to get reacquainted, probably offering them another hokey television series as we speak," Ares sulked, jealousy surging through him. His brother's TV show and successful career as Kevin Sorbo irritated him, but knowing the half breed would be welcomed into her new life, while he'd be viewed as a nuisance at best, left a ball of molten metal in his guts.
"He's their friend, and yes, he's happy they're back. I am too, but you're family. You'll always be more important to me," Aphrodite affirmed, letting Ares know she was there for him. Despite the millions of worshipers, priests, and minor-god minions who had sworn their undying devotion to him over the centuries, she was one of the few who'd ever really been there when he needed it.
Her brother valued that loyalty more than he could express, but he knew he had to throw her something. "Don't take this the wrong way. I mean, I'm grateful and all, but I'd like a few more minutes alone, here. I'll come back to Olympus when I'm done, but I just need some space right now."
"It's okay, Ar. I understand. Just don't stay out here too long. You have a tendency to get stuck here for decades or centuries, and Olympus gets totally boring without you," Aphrodite insisted, remembering Ares previous absences. They all knew where he went and why, and whenever he was away, the amateur scheming and machinations of the younger gods combined with the rigid attention to detail and procedure of the older generations could turn the home of the Greek Gods into a major snooze fest.
"I'll be back by tonight, I promise," Ares offered, letting his sister know he wasn't about to let his current funk overwhelm him. For all his inner turmoil the fact remained that Xena was back, and despite what had transpired at the press conference today, he couldn't help but hope his one in a billion chance had returned with the love of his life. Staying up here on this mountain where she'd fought her final battle in spirit form would rob him of that chance as the years passed and Annie aged and, eventually, died. If this could end up being their final hurrah, he had to make it memorable enough to last eternity.
His regrets certainly him. If only he'd handled her differently, recognized his feelings sooner, perhaps he could have saved the bond between them. Who knows, maybe he could have stopped the Twilight in his tracks, or given her more information and prevented Gabrielle's rape by Dahok. Then Strife would still be alive as well. He'd lost so much back then, but her loss eclipsed them all.
He needed to say it; if he didn't he'd drown in his regret. Taking a deep breath, Ares bellowed, making the Earth shake beneath him. Let the gods bicker over that tomorrow. Today he'd show his power. "Xena lives!"
A few minutes later, after regaining control of the roiling emotions that always sprung to the surface at the sound of her name, the God of War reached into the aether and willed himself home as he'd done millions of times before.
But this time, when he opened his eyes, he was not in his rooms on Olympus. Reaching out with his powers, he soon discovered he was no longer in Japan either, or anywhere else on the mortal plain. Reaching for the gun that had replaced his sword over a century ago, Ares scanned the spacious room that was mostly white with various piece of art that all focused on the color blue scattered here and there. For some weird reason, his mind went to Athena's old digs on Olympus. They'd had the same minimalist, self-possessed feel, if not the same color scheme. Sudden he heard a calm, female voice behind him. "Hello Ares. Welcome."
Spinning around to point his gun at the voice, Ares found his potential target. The woman was standing in behind a modern desk, another blue canvas situated behind. Her soft, black hair was cropped down to a pixie cut, while a plum duster, blouse, and slacks set clothed her slender frame, along with the requisite jewelry and light makeup worn by middle class women of her era. Whoever she was, he'd never seen her before, but somehow she knew his name and appeared to be the only source of answers as to where he was and why he was here. "I don't know who you are, lady.. or if you even are a lady.. but you've messed with the wrong god here! Now where in hell am I and who are you?!"
"My name is Naadiah. I'm a doctor, a therapist, and I'd like to help you if you'll let me. Please, put the gun down. It won't work here anyway," Dr. Naadiah replied calmly, seating herself behind her desk, as if a blood-thirty war god wasn't holding her at gunpoint.
Testing the woman's claim, Ares pulled the trigger, but nothing happened. No kickback, no satisfying bang, no gray matter spattered all over the blue of the bullet ridden canvas, just the click of an unloaded weapon.
Rolling his eyes, he sent the gun away and materialized his favorite sword, only to have it disappear a moment later with a nearly imperceptible purse of this Naadiah-person's lips. If that was how this mortal Doc wanted to play, he could work with no weapons. Shaking his left hand in anticipation, he summoned up a fireball, finally getting a eyebrow raise out of the otherwise implacable woman, only to have a light sigh extinguish the flame before he could launch it at her. Out of options for attack, Ares growled low and folded his arms across his chest, refusing to admit defeat to this mortal he knew almost nothing about save her name, occupation, and taste in decor.
"Are you done?" Dr. Naadiah asked, tilting her chin upward in defiance. She remembered her first lesson in Doctor Training; you are your patient. If Ares was going to be stubborn, she would be equally as stubborn and wait him out. She had to give him time to listen to her offer. He was a god, after all, and used to being in control of the situation. In that expectation, Naadiah found the first hint of their commonality, and she sat quietly, giving him a moment to adjust to what was happening.
When he finally did, his palms came crashing down on her desk. "I don't know what game you're playing or who put you up to this, but I am Ares: God of War and I will not be jerked around! Now what do you, or the master you serve, want, and why have you brought me here?!"
"Ares, I know you're used to other gods, and mortals for that matter, jerking you around as it were, but that's not what's happening here. You have been granted a rare opportunity to solve your problems and better your life. As for what I want; I want to help you. That's all. No tricks or ulterior motives; I just want to help," Naadiah repeated, knowing her claims would be hard for him to believe.
"Help me with what? What could a mortal like yourself possibly help me with?" Ares questioned angrily, beginning to pace back and forth around the woman's office space.
Naadiah knew the rules. The commitment to therapy came first, but if she wanted Ares to agree, she also had to bait the hook. "Your relationships, your life trajectory, all of it is tied together. Take what happened at the press conference today..."
That got Ares attention and earned his ire. "What happened at the conference was what always happens when Xena and her tag-alongs show up! It was inevitable!"
"No, Ares, it wasn't. What happened today was the result of a series of choices, some made in the moment, some the product of centuries of decisions compounding on one another, but none of which was inevitable. That is what this therapy is for, to help you see your choices for what they are and make better ones going forward. However, if you want my help you first you need to make a commitment to the work, to the process. We can't move forward otherwise," Dr. Naadiah responded, laying her cards out on the table before the God of War, both literally and figuratively. Once he'd taken her business card he could either accepted her help or he not. It had to be his choice, but the waiting for a decision was always the most difficult part of the process for her.
"Lady, I've been trying to move forward for nearly two thousand years with no success," Ares sighed, the day's events draining him. Under normal circumstances, he'd strangle this woman with his bare hands for taking away his offensive powers and directly challenging his life choices, even though he'd been doing exactly the same thing less than half an hour ago back on Mount Fuji. Despite her abilities, he could tell that she was fully mortal. She wasn't a god and she wasn't infused with a god's power. Still, he'd known mortals who could harness godlike powers without a deity's help, like that woman Xena had briefly studied with in Chin, Lao Ma. Whoever she was, this Naadiah was powerful, but still human, still breakable, but at this moment he was too tired to break her.
What's more, a part of him wanted to believe her. If he could change the way he made decisions, perhaps he'd discover how to make the ones that would win him Xena's affection. Maybe this was the way to his one in a billion chance where Xena would voluntarily choose to invite him into her life. "This help, this therapy, you're offering me, all I have to do is commit myself to it? Come on, what's the catch?"
"No catch. You commit to seeing the entire process through and we can begin," Dr. Naadiah replied, fighting the urge to smile. She loved her work as a therapist, and she loved helping people discover their better, more effective selves. This man was a god, but she had no doubt that working with him would be no less rewarding, and his most recent question gave her hope he was on the verge of committing himself to the process.
"And you're not angling for anything, money, your own army, a taste of ambrosia? Because I won't be held hostage to any of that," Ares made clear, wanting to see if this human woman was serious. He knew that mortals were indeed capable of this kind of selflessness. He'd seen it before, in Xena and in the bumbling fool, Joxer, but he knew it was a rare trait. Most humans had an agenda. In that way, they were most like the gods.
Dr. Naadiah did smile this time, not at the god's concerns, but at the mental image of her leading an army. That was so not her. "Correct. All I need from you is a commitment to therapy, to changing your life for the better, nothing more and nothing less."
Ares stared across the desk at Dr. Naadiah, seeking out any hint of deception or manipulation, but found none. Either she was sincere or she was better at hiding her self interest than the gods themselves, which was to say something. "Alright. You have my word. I will see this process through till the end. After all, I have centuries of bad choices, and how long can you live, right?"
Laughing heartily at the joke, Naadiah grabbed the fresh notebook she always put out for new patients and handed it to the God of War. "And on that note, please make a list of the worst of those 'bad choices', point form, if you please."
"Can do." Ares replied gamely, before beginning his list. Oddly enough, the task was simpler than he'd made it out to be. Yes he had thousands of years of bad choices, but only forty or fifty that really stuck in his craw. The others he'd worked around and considered learning experience, but the ones he was putting to paper had taken over his entire life. Mortal warlords remained the same. They might call themselves gang leaders or mafia kingpins today, and they might use bombs and automatic riffles instead of swords and Greek fire, but he could control them and spur them on as well as he ever could. Even world leaders with their finger on the nuclear button were malleable to his influence and required little effort to bend to his will. Centuries of experience at his craft gave Ares plenty of down time to rehash his mistakes, over and over, century after century, so listing them was easy, and at the top of that list, of course, was letting Xena choose her end in Japa.
Finishing his list, he handed the four pages of regret over to his new therapist and watched as she examined it. Several moments later, she found whatever she was looking for near the top of the second page and turned the notebook back to Ares. "Tell me about this one, number 28, 'Evander'."
"Why that one? Wouldn't it be better to start at the top, 'Xena's end at Mount Fuji'?" Ares asked, confused as to why Evander's name had caught her eye.
"Because this is the process. This is the way it's done. I promise, we'll cover each and every regret, but right now, we start with Evander. So, tell me about him; who is he and what happened between you two to make him a regret?" Dr. Naadiah responded, dropping the notebook on her desk as she patiently stared Ares down and waited for an answer to her questions.
Ares took a deep breath before beginning. He'd given his word and she did say that they'd eventually get to every regret, so he saw no reason to push his new therapist on such a trivial matter. He'd pick his battles and this one wasn't worth it. If she wanted to start with Evander, so be it. "Evander is my son, one of thousands, but still my son. His mother was Nemesis.."
"The Goddess of Divine Justice, correct?" Dr. Naadiah interjected, the name striking a vague memory of a first year classics course she'd taken as a humanities prerequisite back in university.
"Former Goddess of Divine Justice. She decided to question Hera's judgment over which mortals deserved smiting, and in response, mom stripped her of her godhood. Ofcourse Nemesis was terrified of living as a human and the inevitability of death, so when I came to her with an offer to make her a goddess again if she gave me a son, she accepted. Evander was the result," Ares detailed, helping Dr. Naadiah get a picture of the events that led up to Evander's birth.
"So, Nemesis gave you a son, Evander, and you made her a goddess again?" Dr. Naadiah pressed on, wanting to make sure she got the her new patient's story straight.
"Well, I kind of reneged on my end of the deal, but then again, so did she. Nemesis became attached to the child and refused to give him to me, so I refused to use my influence to make her a goddess again. I still had some of my soldiers hounding her and the kid for years, but to no avail. Evander grew up with my idiot half-brother, Jercules, as his role model," Ares sulked, hating to admit his defeat at the hands of the half-mortal. He may never have loved Evander, but he'd wanted the boy to seek his attention the way Hercules had wanted Zeus' notice in his youth. Instead, Hercules and Nemesis had made him irrelevant.
"It seems like this is more of a disappointment than a regret. I get that Evander wasn't raised the way you would have liked and that you were kept from him, but a regret requires that you wish you'd done something differently," Dr. Naadiah guided, wanting to hear what Ares would try to do differently.
Suddenly feeling a bit uncomfortable discussing this with a mortal, Ares shifted in his seat and cleared his throat before speaking again. "The regret isn't in what happened but in how it happened. I should never have pushed Nemesis to have a child with me. Despite the fact that I was the eldest son of the King and Queen of the Gods, she'd always looked down on me, as if the fact that she had been forced to kill mortals as a goddess somehow made her better than me."
"Then why did you feel a need to manipulate Nemesis into giving you son?" Dr. Naadiah continued, forcing herself to remain non-judgmental, despite the fact that Ares had all but admitted to raping this Nemesis. Dr. Naadiah had to remind herself that whatever the reason, the universe had put him in her path to help. Obviously there had to be someone worth saving from their own self destructive impulses if he'd been chosen for this therapy and she would treat him as she treated all her other patients.
"Well, a few weeks before I propositioned Nemesis, I'd briefly been turned mortal as well, and though Xena had helped me get my godhood back, I just wasn't feeling like myself again. I guess you could say I needed a jump start and I figured that knocking up my dear brother, Hercules' first love, when she was at her weakest and most desperate, was just what I needed to get back on that malicious horse. If I had to do it all over again, I'd find another way to validate myself as a god again, maybe change Nemesis sex or screw with her memory or something. Then Evander would never have been born, never freed Hera from the Abyss of Tartarus, and my last memory of my mother wouldn't be of her throwing a fireball at my back!" the old, familiar rage resurfaced and Ares efficiently put it in its place, saving it for his work life. The past was the past and there was nothing he could do about it. He and Dite had survived. That was all that truly mattered anyway.
That struck Naadiah where she lived. In her mind, she could still hear her mother's voice calling her 'sick' and 'mentally deformed', when she'd come out to her family, only to have her brother, Doug, call her the very next weekend to inform her that their mother had suffered a massive heart attack and was dead. Yes, Dr. Naadiah knew what it was like to feel despised by your own mother and to have death take away any chance you might have had to make amends. Finding her voice again, Naadiah refocused on her patient. After all, she'd made a commitment to him as surely as he'd made one to her. "Well then, Ares, you have a lot of work to do this time around."
"This time around? What do you mean 'this time around'?" Ares asked as he started to feel a unique type of chill come over him, one he'd not experienced in millennia. He'd had to wrack the deepest recesses of his memory to place it, but once he did, he gasped, only to have vomit spew out of his mouth.. and into the Aegean. Painfully, he wrenched the contents of his stomach out over the side of a sailing ship, his head pounding ceaselessly. From what felt like far away and off to the side, he heard a voice he'd hoped never hear again ask 'What are you looking at?', which was followed by the reply of a long dead warlord who'd attempted to kill him 'A poor excuse for a warrior." The exchange was followed by the behemoth's meaty hand slapping his back, forcing a final round of dry heaves before Ares was able to wipe his mouth, and despite the slowness of his mind right now, he'd already pieced together where, and more importantly when, he was. He was in the past, sailing out to that island where Sisyphus had hidden his sword, and that first voice beside him and the forearm resting companionably near his own was Xena's, in Callisto's body, but still Xena's.
All his love for her rose to the surface and he kept his eyes clamped tightly shut. She probably thought he was fighting more nausea, but in reality it was his heart that he was desperately trying to master, not his stomach. She was so close and so unaware of what the future held. Right now, even with all that he'd already done to her, she might be able to forgive him, to love him. It would take enormous effort and time, the latter of which he didn't know how much he had, but if that powerful mortal therapist, Dr. Naadiah was going to give him this chance, he wasn't going to waste it. Taking a deep breath, he forced his rampaging emotions into line, looked up at the temporarily blonde Warrior Princess, and spoke. "Thank you again, for doing this, for helping me get my godhood back."
"Ares, I don't want your thanks; I just want the world righted again. Besides, you never thanked me in the first place," Xena commented, not even looking at him, but at the water beneath them. She was strategizing, trying to figure out what was going on. She had no time for his feelings at the moment, and Ares pushed down the urge to say anything more. When he'd first figured out how totally in love with her he was, he'd accosted her in Tartarus. She'd been fleeing Hades and the Proxidicae, with her son in tow, all while in the early stages of labor. He'd wanted to discuss their relationship. She'd just wanted to protect her children and the Blond. It had been selfish of him, but he'd not understood self sacrifice at that point. Now, with all his future memories intact, he did, so he silenced himself and joined her in watching the sea's waves spraying against the side of the ship.
It wasn't like he didn't have his own strategies to plan. His feelings for Xena aside, Ares had nearly died twice on this adventure, and he needed to scrounge every detail he could from his wine-soaked memory to ensure that the two of them survived this time as well.
As the hour ticked by he barely noticed when a biscuit and some hard cheese was handed to him along with a water skin. Looking around the ship, he saw the warlords they were traveling with, along with much of the ship's crew, chowing down on the same meager offerings. He looked to Xena, who was seated on the deck, sniffing the cheese and cracker wearily. Eventually she nodded to him and began to eat, taking a slug from the skin she'd been given along with the meal. Joining her, he took his first bite of the cheese, memories of his two years on her grandparents' ramshackled farm flooding back to him. This kind of food kept you alive, nothing more, but as staying alive these next two days was the goal, he finished off his cracker and cheese, saving some of the water for later. He remembered that too, fresh water was life, and not always available. While he knew Sisyphus' plan didn't include poisoning them with tainted beverages, she didn't, so he joined her in limiting his water intake and focused on his own thoughts and recovering from the last vestiges of his hangover.
"You're awfully quiet for someone sitting so close to the woman he's loved for two thousand years." a voice commented, startling Ares and bringing him to his feet. Despite dressing like an ordinary Greek woman of this time, Dr. Naadiah appeared totally out of place and for some reason, Ares worried for her.
Nobody, including Xena, noticed her, so he could only assume they couldn't see the therapist, but that didn't mean everyone else in the universe was as blind. He knew very well that his parents and most of the other gods were watching and having a good chuckle at his expensive. If they found out that Naadiah had sent him back in time from the future, he'd be hauled in for violating Zeus' rules on time travel and she'd soon be a husk of smoldering ash for sending him back in the first place. Even though he'd just met her, Ares was none-the-less touched that this woman wanted to help him, wanted to teach how how he could make his life better, and he had no desire to bring about her demise. At the very least he owed her for the attempt on his behalf. "Dr. Naadiah, I appreciate this opportunity, really I do, but you can't be seen talking to me. I mean, you might be able to hide our conversation from mortals, but my divine relations are all currently tuned in to Ares TV, and if Zeus finds out about you, he'll…"
"Relax. He can't see me, and from his perspective, you're still sitting over there, thinking. You needn't worry and you have my word that I would never put either of us at risk like that," Dr. Naadiah soothed, beginning to see the better part of her patient's nature in his concern.
"Yeah, well, Zeus believes knowledge is power and there is nothing he wouldn't do to learn about the coming Twilight and eliminate anyone or anything that threatened him. I couldn't allow that then, and I would die to prevent it now, but my odds of success wouldn't be that great as a mortal. After all, I'm no Jercules," Ares quipped bitterly, watching Xena monitor the warlords while occasionally glancing over in his direction, or at least the direction he'd been in before standing up to speak with Naadiah.
"If I remember my Xena Scrolls correctly, didn't you side with your father in exchange for his permission to kill Hercules?" Naadiah asked, trying to sort through what she'd heard friends and girlfriends tell her about Xena: Warrior Princess. It was difficult being a gay woman in the late nineties and early two-thousands and not be into that show. Everyone talked about it and analyzed it for what they called 'subtext', and to not follow along, at least somewhat, could make you a pariah in certain circles. Naadiah preferred reading to television, but she kept up with her friends' interests and Xena was definitely one of them.
"That's what I wanted Dad and my Dear Brother to think. The plan was to pretend to attack Hercules and let him kick my ass, so he'd assume I was out of the picture. Once he found Chronos' rib for me, I'd relieve him of it, shank Dad, and save Xena, Blondie, and the baby. I'd be their hero, not Jercules, and with a Rib of Chronos in my possession, I'd be top god to boot. What I never counted on was Mom's betrayal, a betrayal that wouldn't have even been possible if Evander had never been born and never freed her from the abyss. And what about that? I thought you said we were going to start with my regrets over Evander. This.. experience turned out well for me, and I don't regret a second of it!" Ares insisted with absolute conviction, his confusion beginning to convert to his more natural state of anger. He couldn't understand why he was enduring this. He was a god; he shouldn't need a therapist, certainly not a mortal one at any rate.
But what she'd said about his being able to learn new ways of decision-making, that had appealed to him. He needed to learn how to deal with Xena before Annie Day died and he lost track of Xena's spirit. He could wait an eternity so long as he had that contract, but now there were no more binding promises. Somewhere, deep inside he knew that this mortal woman, this Dr. Naadiah and what she'd promised to teach him was now his only hope for finding happiness with the woman he loved, so he'd throttle his brewing anger at her methods and let her lead him for now. However, that didn't mean he wouldn't question those methods.
"You said it yourself, you only approached Nemesis about giving you a son because of what happened here, because you wanted to feel like your old self again after what you'd experienced, here. This is where the choice to sire Evander had its origins, so this is where I sent you," Dr. Naadiah returned with emphasis, knowing it was natural for new patients to question, but always becoming a bit defensive each time it happened. Thankfully she'd learned to cover it well in her three and a half years as a fully fledged doctor.
"Alright, so what do I do? Do I just continue on as I did before? Do I change things? What are the rules?" Ares asked, accepting his task. He was a god after all; he knew how these spiritual quests typically went, that there were rules, that action was more valuable than introspection, yada, yada, yada. Although it was usually the god who sent the mortal on the quest, not the other way around. Well, if the twilight taught him anything, it was that everything changed in time.
"That's up to you. You need to do whatever you feel needs doing. So go. Do. Learn," Dr. Naadiah stated encouragingly before turning and heading down the steps that would take her below deck, and into her office from whence she came. For now she'd done all she could, so she sat down, picked up the dog-eared copy of 'Bulfinch's Mythology from the corner of her desk, and waited for her newest patient to make progress on his first regret.