A/N I thought I'd try a new venture here. A series of unrelated oneshots about all our favourite Atlantis characters. Prompts will be more than welcome.
I tried hard to write a bit of humorous fluff for this first one but seem to have strayed off into hurt/comfort and angst at the end - oh well I'll have to try harder next time!
Please review.
In Vino Veritas – In Wine Truth
"He isn't! Please tell me he isn't!" Pythagoras' mouth hung open in shock.
"He is," Hercules snorted.
"But he doesn't normally..." the young genius almost wailed.
"I know," replied Hercules, "but it seems he has tonight."
The object of their current scrutiny was sitting – well swaying – on a bench talking very loudly to a very large, vicious looking man, occasionally jabbing a finger at the man's chest. He seemed completely oblivious to the growing anger on the face of the man he was talking to and of the group of thugs forming around him.
Pythagoras and Hercules exchanged a worried and exasperated glance before hurrying forward to rescue their friend.
It was apparent from the way he jumped that Jason hadn't noticed they were there until Pythagoras rested a hand on his shoulder. He blinked up at his friends blearily, as though trying to place them, then beamed brilliantly as he realised who it was.
"Hi," he slurred brightly. He turned to the glowering man he had been previously talking to. "Look iss my friends, Pyf... Pyf... Pyfagoras and...," he frowned as his memory briefly deserted him, "and the fat one," he finished triumphantly.
Pythagoras nearly groaned aloud, eyeing up the number of empty flagons on the table in front of his friend. Even Hercules looked slightly impressed at the number, although he was obviously still annoyed at the 'fat one' comment.
"Is he with you?" the vicious looking man growled.
"Possibly," Hercules answered cautiously, studiously ignoring the elbow in his ribs from Pythagoras.
"He spilt my drink and then started talking nonsense at me," the other man grumbled. "I was just going to invite him to come outside to discuss it."
"No need for that," Hercules answered. "Let me buy you another drink. We're all friends here." He led the angry man back to the 'bar', mouthing over his shoulder at Pythagoras to get Jason out of there as he went.
The blonde mathematician turned back to his dark haired companion.
"How many of those are yours?" he asked, indicating towards the empty flagons.
"Wha?" Jason asked.
Pythagoras sighed.
"Never mind," he said. "I'm guessing you've probably drunk all of them... which is impressive even by Hercules' standards. Come on, let's get you home." And sobered up, he added silently.
Jason pulled his arm out of Pythagoras' grasp, nearly falling off the bench as he did.
"Naw," he slurred. "I want anuvver drink."
Pythagoras sighed again.
"I think you've probably had more than enough for one night."
Jason shook his head mulishly.
"I want anuvver drink!"
"Urm... they've run out," Pythagoras answered, thanking the gods that he had plenty of experience at getting a drunken Hercules home. "I think we've got some wineskins at home though..."
He managed to manhandle Jason into a standing position and slung one of his friend's arms over his shoulders, grasping him firmly around the waist. Slowly they weaved their way out the door, thankfully not bumping into too many tables on their way.
If Pythagoras had been hoping that the fresh night air would sober his friend up any, he was sadly disappointed. He started to guide Jason down the street, in the general direction of their house, having to put up with the non stop drunken babble that came from his friend.
"I don' unnerstand why you don' have socks here," Jason started. "Or toofpaste. I miss toofpaste."
Pythagoras would have found what he was saying intriguing (and definitely amusing) if he hadn't been concentrating quite so hard on getting Jason to walk in a straight line.
"An' who puts babies out to die? Iss inhuman, thas what it is. I don' really unnerstand vis place at all. You've got bull men an' women who see the future an' people who kill people over... fings!" Jason waved his hand as though trying to elaborate, narrowly avoiding hitting both himself and Pythagoras in the face.
Pythagoras rolled his eyes and pulled Jason in a little tighter to his side, trying to keep the brunette upright as he lurched alarmingly to one side. The soft noise of approaching feet made him turn nervously, worried that they were about to be set upon by thieves or city guards or someone equally undesirable. He pushed Jason into the wall.
"Stay here," he admonished, before stepping towards the shape that began to materialise out of the darkness. As he peered into the gloom the figure coalesced into the familiar shape of Hercules. Pythagoras breathed a sigh of relief.
"What kept you?" he asked.
"Sorry," Hercules answered. "I had to buy them a few drinks to calm them down... and promise that Jason would never go in that tavern again..." He looked around Pythagoras. "Where is he anyway?"
Pythagoras turned with a growing feeling of dread.
"I left him right there!" he exclaimed.
A sudden giggle came out of the darkness and made him look up. He instantly wished he hadn't. He gave another long suffering sigh.
"Come down from there Jason," he said, exasperated.
Jason giggled again, swaying alarmingly where he was perched on the edge of a roof.
"Nah," he said. "I like it up here... the stars are all twinkly an' pretty." He frowned. "Still want anuvver drink though."
Hercules grinned openly at Pythagoras.
"And you say I'm bad," he said. "How much has he had to drink anyway?"
"You saw the flagons," the blonde hissed. "How in the name of the gods are we going to get him down from there?"
"They were all his?" Hercules looked impressed. He turned back to Jason. "You're not going to get another drink from up there," he informed his friend. "You'll have to come down and come home... we've got wine at home."
The brunette seemed to think it over.
"Ok," he said. He slid down a ladder that someone had carelessly left leaning against the wall, landing in a heap at the bottom, still giggling.
Hercules and Pythagoras exchanged a brief look. Hoisting Jason up between them, they made their way unsteadily down the street towards home.
Pythagoras was grateful that the rest of the journey home had gone uneventfully, although Hercules had retreated to his room as soon as they had arrived, leaving Pythagoras to try to get an extremely drunk Jason into bed. He looked fondly at his friend who was now nodding on the stool that they had deposited him on as soon as they had come through the door. Really it was a miracle that Jason had not passed out on the way home – which would have made it much harder to manoeuvre him. The blonde frowned. He was more than a little confused. It was unlike Jason to drink heavily – he usually left that up to Hercules – so Pythagoras was concerned about what had caused his actions tonight.
He was shaken out of his reverie by the sound of Jason going through the cupboards with all the finesse of a baby Minotaur. Pythagoras muttered a prayer for patience.
"What are you doing?" he asked.
"I've got the munchies," Jason announced brightly.
Pythagoras looked at his friend in confusion. He really had no idea what 'the munchies' were but on reflection, and after careful observation of Jason trying to get some olives out of a jar, concluded that it was probably something to do with food. He rolled his eyes and took the jar away from Jason before something got broken, pushing his friend back onto a stool and reaching for a cup of water with his other hand.
"Drink," he said sternly.
"This issn' beer," Jason slurred, wrinkling his nose, "Tisn't even coke."
"I have no idea what 'beer' or 'coke' are, but I think you would be better off with water anyway," the young genius responded. "Trust me, you'll thank me in the morning."
He sat down quietly on another stool, the silence only broken by his friend slurping noisily from the cup. After he was satisfied that Jason had drunk enough water, he hoisted his friend up and across the room, depositing him on his bed and turning to retrieve a bowl in case Jason needed to throw up in the night. He turned back to his now apparently sleeping friend and sighed sadly.
"What's going on with you Jason?" he asked the air, not expecting an answer. "Why would you suddenly get this drunk?"
"Cos iss tonight," Jason was obviously not quite asleep but certainly sounded very drowsy now. "I always get drunk tonight."
Pythagoras was decidedly confused.
"What's so special about tonight?" he asked.
"Iss the night b'fore tomorrow," responded Jason as if it were the most obvious thing in the world and Pythagoras was just being dense.
"I don't understand."
"Look iss like vis," Jason answered, "I always get drunk tonight cos of tomorrow, see? Tomorrow's my birfday an' I don' like my birfday an' I go out an' have a couple of drinks to forget iss my birfday." He pursed his lips, running his tongue over his teeth. "An' I still miss toofpaste," he proclaimed before finally passing out.
Jason woke up to an empty room the next morning. He opened his eyes to a bright morning and immediately wished that he hadn't – or that death would come quickly. He covered his face with his hands as he tried to stop the room from spinning and desperately tried to fill in the blanks in his memory. He could remember going to a tavern to have a couple of drinks – although the way his head was pounding clearly told him that he had spectacularly failed to stop at just a couple – but beyond that there was nothing. He cracked open one eye and carefully peered under the blanket, sighing in relief when he found that he was still fully clothed (there had been one memorable occasion when he had woken up in a strange bathtub wearing nothing but an unfamiliar overcoat). The presence of a bowl and a cup of water alongside him indicated that someone had put him to bed last night. He guessed fuzzily that it was probably Pythagoras because he couldn't see Hercules arranging his sandals quite that neatly. So then, he'd gone out for a few drinks and Pythagoras had ended up putting him to bed – that just left a few hours in the middle unaccounted for (at least he could be grateful that they didn't have traffic cones in Atlantis – he really didn't want to remember the night before his 21st). He tried to sit up but gave up on that idea when the drummer that seemed to have taken up residence in his skull started an extended solo and the room tilted and spun alarmingly. Letting himself fall back onto the pillow and covering his face with his hands again, he failed to notice the door quietly opening and soft footsteps coming across the room.
"Oh God," he moaned. "How much of a skinfull did I have last night?"
"Well since I don't know what a 'skinfull' is I can't really answer that," Pythagoras' voice sounded light and amused.
Jason started in surprise and opened his eyes wide, wincing at the bright light, as the mattress dipped beside him. Pythagoras had sat down on the edge of the bed and was grinning at him in open amusement.
"I was talking to myself," Jason said, awkwardly. "I was just wondering how much I had to drink last night."
"Quite a lot I would say. You certainly appeared to have had a 'skinfull'," Pythagoras pronounced the word carefully. "Why are you feeling a bit delicate this morning?" he smiled broadly.
Jason glared at him.
"I hate you," he said without any rancour. "Do you have to be so bloody cheerful? I just want to die in peace."
Pythagoras looked momentarily confused.
"I don't think you're actually going to die – Hercules never does – and I am fairly certain that I don't have any blood on me..."
Jason sighed.
"I didn't mean actual blood," he said. "It's just a phrase from where I come from. Listen, what did I actually do last night?" he tried to change the subject slightly.
Pythagoras raised one eyebrow.
"So you don't remember drinking so much that even Hercules was impressed, nearly starting a bar fight and ending up climbing onto a roof and refusing to come down because the stars were 'all twinkly and pretty' then?"
Jason groaned.
"Pyth, I am so sorry," he said, the nickname he had privately given Pythagoras coming out unconsciously. Pythagoras raised his eyebrow even further at the name but wisely chose not to mention it.
"Do not worry. You did not do anything particularly bad or unpleasant. You are at least a friendly drunk – I think you spent more time giggling than anything else – well that and telling me how much you missed 'toofpaste'."
"Still sorry." Jason looked at his friend appealingly. "I don't do that very often."
"No, I gathered that," answered Pythagoras, "although you did tell me that you were drinking because it was the night before your birthday and you wanted to forget – you also implied that you do this every year."
Jason blushed and looked away.
"Kind of," he said uncomfortably.
"So you were celebrating then?"
"Not exactly," Jason paused. "I'm not all that fond of my birthday so I tend to get drunk to forget it's happening – never really works but it always seems like a good idea at the time."
Pythagoras looked at his friend sadly – in his opinion birthdays were not something a person should want to forget and he didn't really understand why Jason would want to.
"Why does your birthday upset you so much?" he asked.
Jason had half sat up by this time and was looking down at his hands and picking at loose threads on the edge of the blanket.
"It's the one time of year when I really feel lonely," he answered quietly. "You'd think it would be Christmas but there's always light and colour then, and even if I'm on my own I can always hope that I won't be next year..." he trailed off.
Pythagoras had only understood about half of what the brunette had said but what he did pick up made his heart ache for his friend. He reached behind his back and pulled out a small wrapped package, trying to muster his former bright smile.
"Happy birthday," he said as he handed the small parcel over. "I just thought... well anyway..."
Jason's eyes betrayed his surprise. He turned the package over and over in his hands almost reverently.
"I don't remember the last time I had a birthday present," he almost whispered.
Pythagoras put a hand over his.
"You can open it you know," he encouraged, hiding the sorrow he felt at seeing his friend look so vulnerable.
Jason smiled softly, genuinely, in response and started to carefully unwrap the parcel. It was only a small coin pouch – nothing particularly special in Pythagoras' eyes (and certainly less than he felt his friend deserved) – but the look on Jason's face indicated that he thought it was the best thing in the world. He launched himself at the surprised mathematician and wrapped his arms firmly around the blonde's slim waist, burying his face in his friend's thin shoulder. Pythagoras patted his back awkwardly and petted the dark hair, aware that Jason's shoulders were shaking slightly and that the shoulder of his tunic was getting suspiciously wet.
Eventually Jason lifted his face and sniffed, wiping at his pink rimmed eyes.
"Sorry," he muttered. "It's just... I never thought... you really are the kindest man I've ever met."
Pythagoras blushed.
"It's nothing," he said and smiled at Jason. "We shall have a proper celebration when Hercules gets back."
Jason smiled almost shyly back at him.
"Next time though, talk to me instead of drinking that much," the blonde added. "It is not good for you to bottle things up. Believe me I know from experience." He smiled again.
Jason nodded in agreement.
"And later you can tell me what 'toofpaste' and 'coke' are," Pythagoras said.