Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or Atlantis. Please read and review!
Jason woke up sleepily with a sigh, and the calm twinkling of the stars blinked sleepily back at him. He loved this part of the night, just before sunrise, when the world seemed to be waking up.
He rolled over on his side, and starting packing up his travelling kit that he always brought on these overnight hunting trips. They had gone out in the forest, leaving Atlantis early yesterday morning before agora even had the chance to wake up, and were pretty successful in their hunt: three pheasants, five rabbits, and part of a wild boar that they fought a big cat for. Jason shook his head, remembering how excited Hercules was when he found a seemingly perfect boar for the taking, and how angry he became at the beast. Jason chuckled softly. Pythagoras was right – the man was ruled by his stomach. But they also both knew how much he was ruled by his heart.
A quick glance at his two friends confirmed that he was the first one up, and as tradition dictated – it was strange how there were so many traditions in ancient Greece, yet he caught on so easily, and they felt oddly comfortable, like his favorite pair of trainers – but tradition in their small household stated the first one up was to begin breakfast. Jason sighed, and started looking around for berries and any nearby small game birds to roast.
After just a few minutes, he was back at the campsite, both friends snoring slightly. He laid the freshly-caught small quail by the smoking fire and brought his pieces of flint together to start the flames once more. As soon as he struck the first one, he could tell something was wrong. It seemed like part of the flint had broken off. He brought his face closer during his second attempt, albeit unconsciously, and struck the stones again – it was during this millisecond that he saw a white flash of light, and felt a horrible pain in both eyes. He lost balance, falling backwards. A feral-sounding cry left his lips, but Jason could only focus on feeling as though his heartbeat was right behind his eyes.
Pythagoras was up and at Jason's side before the young mathematician was even fully awake. He pursed his lips and involuntarily shook his head – that cry would be burnt in his mind for a while indeed. His eyes bored into Jason's closed eyes as his scream turned into a moan, and his physician training took over. "Jason," he soothingly called out, making sure his young friend was still conscious, "aside from your eyes, where does it hurt? What happened?"
Jason emitted a low moan, and realized he was holding his breath in vain, trying to make the pain – and the impending migraine – go away. "Just eyes," he panted, "the stone … my flint…. It wasn't working, so I bent down for a closer look, and…" at this, he blushed. "Stupid," was all Pythagoras could hear after that in between his mumblings.
Throughout this debacle, Hercules had grumbled himself awake, annoyed at yet another dream of he and Medusa being interrupted. He lumbered over, taking into account Jason laying on the forest floor, panting, with his eyes covered by deep scorches of red, gray, and black, and Pythagoras flitting about, getting water and linens. "What happened?" he asked through a yawn. Pythagoras shot him an annoyed look before plopping down by Jason's head again. "He was cooking us all breakfast, and got too close to the flint" was his curt reply. Hercules was torn. He wanted to hear about Jason's condition and make sure he was alright – after all, the Oracle did say it was his duty to protect the boy, but his stomach rumbled, and his head told him that breakfast would take a long time to cook.
Hercules decided to kill two birds with one stone, so to speak. He turned around and worked on defeathering the bird before working on the fire so it glittered in spite of Jason's slight moans and Pythagoras's jerky motions, all while keeping a close eye on the two boys that felt more like sons than friends.
Pythagoras kept up a steady, soothing voice as soon as he sat down next to Jason. He could tell Jason was in a lot of pain, but he had to work on preventing the burns that now sat on top of both of his eyelids from spreading. He started by wetting a spare cloth to clean the sweat and dirt from his friend's face, then worked on keeping a cool, wet cloth on top of his eyes while he prepared a poultice of honey and lemon. It was a good thing that he started to come prepared to these little hunting trips; there had been too many close calls before, and he hated the feeling of ill-preparedness while in nature.
Throughout this time, Jason started to doze off. He never really slept too well on these excursions– always thinking of bandits and animals that may take advantage of them – and Pythagoras's voice was so soothing. He could tell Hercules was nearby, and his nose started to pick up the smell of cooking meat and the fire. He shifted slightly. Gods, his senses felt as though they were heightened by the thousands – it was like a new world had opened up, and he became hyper-sensitive to the feeling of the dead leaves and soft dirt beneath him, the sharp stick that he had fallen on pointing into his shoulder blade, the smell of the quail, the dirt, nearby poo from some large animal, and some sticky, sweet substance on his eyes. He allowed himself a quick smile, almost in jest – seeing with his eyes was just part of the equation. Here on the forest floor, he could see with his body.
As soon as Pythagoras saw Jason smile after he shifted slightly, he knew unconsciousness was not far off – and right on time, his lithe friend slumped with a sigh. Pythagoras sat on his heels and rubbed the sweat away from his own eyes unconsciously. Unlike the slight sheen on Jason's face, which was a sign of his body fighting the burn, Pythagoras had been unknowingly sweating through sheer anxiety and speed as he worked to create the poultice and dress his friend's wounds. He finally glanced up and noticed Hercules tending to the fire. "Oh, you're up" he stated, still trying to catch up from the last few moments, their previous interaction completely slipping his mind.
Hercules's face was somber. "How is he? It's too early for him to find that much trouble, right?" Pythagoras accepted the small cut of meat from Hercules and said with a wry chuckle, "You know Jason. He would find trouble in his sleep." After chewing, he looked thoughtfully at the sleeping form. "I believe I got to the burns in time, though we'll know more once he wakes up again, and we're back in Atlantis."
The two men finished their breakfast, keeping some pieces ready in case Jason woke up. It didn't seem like a long walk yesterday from Atlantis, but that was before one of their own became wounded – any distance, no matter the length, always feels longer with a wounded man. They packed up the camp quickly, and Pythagoras started tying up their hunting trophies around him to carry back. He wrinkled his nose. It was best they leave now, before the stench of carrying dead animals carried too far.
Pythagoras couldn't even finish his question of "But how will we carry Jas – " before Hercules plucked Jason up, swinging him around across his shoulders. The big man grunted, and gave Pythagoras a look that simply said "let's get home." Pythagoras quickly followed suit, glancing at Jason's shiny forehead poking out from behind the bright white bandage around his head.
Anxiety and worry made Pythagoras's head swim with constant probability theorems and "what-if" scenarios as the worst visualizations danced across his skull. Jason was blind forever. Jason became a beggar, like blind Roland they stole bread from. Jason wouldn't get any acceptance from anyone – especially not Ariadne – and his heart would blacken. Pythagoras shuddered. If Jason became a drunk, and his heart blackened, he would be violent, just like …. He shook his head, leaving his reveries firmly behind, and looked up in wonderment. Somehow, suddenly, they were back in Atlantis. With their familiar guards at the gate, the agora's constant hum, their familiar people. He sighed. They were home, and could therefore handle things much easier now.
During the walk, Jason's headache had kept him awake – somewhat. The constant footfalls and breaths of Hercules lulled him into a semi-unresponsive state, but the sudden stop at the Atlantis gates brought a hitch in Hercules's breath, and brought Jason closer to full consciousness. Gods, were people always this loud? He missed the quiet calmness of the forest, as the constant thrumming of life was overbearing to his already thrumming head. A quiet groan brought both Pythagoras and Hercules out of their respective heads, and reminded them that getting home quick was now more important than anything else.
Hercules stumbled up the steps and through the door– gods, his back and shoulders ached. He hadn't been that sore since he carried the cow from Farmer Georgios's field on a dare, and come to think of it, that was many years ago – too many to count now. Pythagoras was already in front of him, straightening up Jason's bed so he could be deposited into it, which Hercules did with a sigh.
Pythagoras had a pinched, worrying look on his face. "Can you go down and fill up all the empty jugs with fresh water? We're going to need all the cool water we can carry." Hercules left at once as Pythagoras gathered supplies from their shelves, softly talking to himself. "Coriander? – No, coriander wouldn't be useful… need something for the fever… ". He ended up putting bottles on the table, then taking them off, then putting them back on so much that Jason woke up to the noise and groaned. "Stop dancing on the table."
Pythagoras smiled his gentle smile, not even realizing his friend couldn't see it. He touched his shoulder, trying not to jump at the heat emanating from his friend. "Glad to see you're back with us, we'll get you patched up in no time". Jason sighed deeply. "At least one of us can see. And that's good news, because" – he let a small smile shine through – "I'm not feeling too great." Pythagoras smiled and nodded, trying to give as much encouragement through his voice as he could. "I understand, here, let me pull this bandage off." Jason tried to hide his wince, but didn't know if he succeeded – gods, he hated not being able to gauge his friends as he normally did. By that point, Pythagoras was glad of it – he couldn't control his fear as he saw the angry red blisters forming on his friend's eyelids, the skin puffy and red. The affected area went from one side of Jason's eyelid all the way to his other one – he must have closed his eyes as soon as the spark and flames came at him, Pythagoras mused. He was always taken aback by the quick reaction times of his friend.
Pythagoras hated to cause pain, but he needed to know if Jason's eyesight was affected, or if it was simply the epidermis on his eyelids. "Jason," he prefaced, "I'll need you to open your eyes, if you can, and tell me if you see anything." Always the willing patient, Jason nodded, taking a few deep breaths to steel himself from any inevitable pain. He tried to open both, but only his left eye really obliged, opening a millimeter and allowing a crack of light to shine through, which simply made his migraine worse, and his head pounded more. Just as soon as it opened, Jason pinched them both closed, breathing through the aching pain that seemed to surround him on all sides. He could tell Pythagoras was waiting for an answer, though: "I could do just the one, but I saw light. That's good, right?" Pythagoras squeezed his arm in delight, trying to keep his voice level. "Yes, that's very good, it means you'll probably get your sight back".
As Jason mulled over the word "probably", Hercules burst through the door, his arms carrying their assortment of jugs, bowls, and water skeins. He put all of this on the table in a huff, then started pacing. "What can I do to help?" Pythagoras shot a glance at Jason as he started mixing ingredients for a poultice and a healing tonic. "Just go keep him company, talk to him, take his mind off of the pain" he quietly instructed. At least – he thought he was quiet, as Jason called out in a dull voice "Can still hear you." Hercules accepted Pythagoras's cool compress with a nod, and went to man his station as the young mathematician created an assortment of concoctions that would hopefully bring their friend's eyesight back.
Jason sighed and squirmed in bed. A week had passed, and it seemed like there wasn't much change. He still had to keep Pythagoras's poultices on his eyes, still had to keep cold compresses on his face seemingly all the time, and he felt bloated and lethargic from laying around in bed for a week. Granted, he kept sleeping and dozing, and Pythagoras kept giving him the same foul-tasting tonic throughout the day with water and food, but he hated feeling like an invalid. Before, when he was normal, he'd leave the house and walk through the agora, drinking in the sights and smells of the people, of the city, of the environment. His thoughts always travelled with these trips, as he still couldn't believe what had happened to bring him to Atlantis, and he was always puzzling on why. But it was always entertaining to go watch the fishermen bring their boats in with the day's catch, and see how the different sections of Atlantis were divided. He sighed. Ancient Greece was different, though it felt so familiar, and in many ways, it was oddly similar to the 21st century world he had left.
Jason sighed again and squirmed to the other side. Too much time alone with his thoughts only brought trouble as he mulled over the past, present, and future. He was much more of a reactor anyway – part of the reasons why he loved fighting in the amphitheater so much. Nearby, Pythagoras's steady scrawl on his parchment slowed, and came to a stop. "What's wrong, Jason" he asked, fully knowing the man was not made for a bedridden illness, and needed to go out in the hustle and bustle sometime. After all, he couldn't keep sedating him through the healing tonic forever, even if that was the easiest way to heal Jason from an illness. Pythagoras was met with another heavy sigh. "I just want to leave this bed, leave this house" Jason said in a small voice. So far, this week he had only been allowed to use the latrine, and that was with help – which was embarrassing enough.
Pythagoras was met with a sudden thought. "OK" he called to Jason. He came over, quickly checking on Jason's fever, which was all but gone, and carefully wrapped a spare length of linen around the poultices on Jason's eyes. Jason tilted his head in Pythagoras's direction. "What are we doing?" he dared to ask, really ready for anything that didn't involve staying horizontal. Pythagoras smiled his gentle smile. "We…" He helped Jason stand up, "are going on a little adventure."
Though Jason wouldn't have admitted it, he was glad that Pythagoras stayed with him, acting as a guide and as a crutch. Not using your legs for a week made any journey more than six paces seem arduous. Still smiling, Pythagoras guided Jason the rest of the way to the balcony and its awaiting chair in the sun. He helped Jason sit, and didn't miss the small sigh of relief from his friend's lips as his shaking legs were allowed to rest. He ducked back in the house, bringing a light blanket with him, and tucking it around Jason. "I know, it feels hot, but that's just the burn. I don't want you catching a chill and becoming even sicker."
Jason tilted his head back in the direction of the slowly descending sun. His smile showed his contentment, and Pythagoras allowed himself a larger smile at his good idea, all the while continuing to push back any worry of permanent damage.
The second week of Jason's healing brought more trips to the balcony, as the young man started to demand more freedom – even though he could still open his left eye to a fraction of an inch, and it always started a migraine. Though he never would have admitted it to anyone, the constant blackness was an honest challenge to Jason. He was able to find his way around their small house, but got lost on the balcony a few times, and was very close to falling over or falling down. Small bruises started to litter his calves with more frequency as he ran into chairs, benches, and their large hewn table. He was also becoming more frustrated – he was limited as to what he could or could not do, and sometimes felt as though Pythagoras was holding him back or babying him in a way.
Hercules came home with news that would change all that, though. He had burst in earlier, catching Pythagoras off-guard and Jason mid-fall on the balcony. As soon as everything was righted from his sudden entrance, he leaned against the head of the table, where he always liked to stand to make announcement, and said in a somber voice, "We have trouble."
Pythagoras automatically went to the running list in his head of everyone they owed, of a thousand "what-if" scenarios, or the worst possible thing he could think of. His facial expression must have caught on, as Jason questioned "What?" and Hercules said "No, not that much trouble" in a similarly exasperated voice. Now Pythagoras's curiosity was piqued, and Hercules knew it. However, Jason's frown grew, as he missed seeing their constant back and forth. With this, Hercules hastened to get to the point. "I was just in the tavern with Alos, and one of the palace guards came in, but didn't drink, and just watched me. That made Alos and everyone else very nervous, so I didn't even finish my drink before I was excused from that fine establishment." He took a breath. "Somehow, someway, Ariadne has heard that Jason is injured, and she's requesting a private audience with him." He took another deep breath. "Tomorrow."
Jason immediately blushed, and Pythagoras's voice came out in a surprised squeak. "OK, well, we'll need to…" and he trailed off as his brain was faster in making list of everything they needed to get done before Jason came before the queen. With this, Jason was simply reeling from questions he couldn't answer: what would she think if she saw him blind, would he ever see those beautiful almond-shaped eyes again, see how her neck and shoulder blade connect, how they would make anything work when he was an invalid that needed to be transported somewhere.
Pythagoras noticed his friend's erratic breathing before Jason did. He sighed, and put a hand on Jason's bicep – "we'll get this figured out, Jason, it will work out OK". Jason nodded before excusing himself and falling into bed to keep his churning thoughts company.
Pythagoras woke up with the sun the next morning. His genius brain had gone through the probabilities of all the different scenarios they could go forth with, but only one made true sense to the young mathematician. He would help Jason get ready, escort him to the palace, and escort him home – provided the guards let an additional person into a previously private audience.
He went to wake Jason, but could tell by his breath that he was already awake. They would be best to start early, since the day had some preparations, and he still didn't know how easily tired Jason would be.
Pythagoras helped Jason out of bed and dress in a simple tunic, lacing up his sandals for him as his friend swiveled around, trying to see how much sun was streaming through their large windows. "It's very sunny already in the day – going to be hot" Pythagoras observed as he helped his friend to his feet and across the small house.
The stairs were trickier, and Pythagoras took care to guide Jason down each stair, taking extra care that he wouldn't fumble and fall himself. Finally, they were downstairs, and in the heart of the agora, still quiet in such an early hour.
The trip to the bathhouse was fairly uneventful, and Pythagoras kept slowing Jason down, not wanting him to tire easily. He gave their coins to the attendant at the door, and allowed the attendants inside to bathe them, keeping a watchful eye on Jason the entire time. The attendants were used to working with warriors, and gave the linens wrapped around his head a wide berth.
It was late morning before they were back at their small house, and Jason slumped back into bed with a quiet sigh. Pythagoras busied himself with making breakfast for them, then going back to his triangle drawings from the other night. They weren't due to Ariadne until the sun was in the early afternoon stages, so Jason had time for his nap and Pythagoras had time for his work.
Before Pythagoras was even aware, it was time to get ready for the palace. Even now, he felt nervous around so much power, and trips around so many guards and elites made him nervous. He went to Jason's bedside, and with a quiet "It's time," his friend swung his legs over, ready to be helped into his sandals once more.
The trip to the palace seemed to fly right by. Pythagoras groaned inwardly – why did it seem that time went quickly when one was anxious, and more slowly in other times? If only there was a way to measure such a thing as time. But alas, such thoughts would have to wait, as they were in the cool confines of the palace, their sandals slapping dumbly on the marble and tiled floors.
Throughout the journey, Jason was focused on putting one foot in front of the other, but when everything changed – the sounds, the smells, the feeling of tile under his feet instead of stone or dirt – he knew they were at the palace. His heart rate quickened, as it always did before he saw Ariadne, and his knees got a little shaky. Suddenly, they stopped, and he tread on Pythagoras's heels a bit. "Sorry" he mumbled, but his friend just turned around, putting both hands on his shoulder. "Jason," he said softly, "they won't let me in the room with you, but you're right where you need to be. I'm going to leave with those overly large guards standing to your left, and Ariadne is going to come in. If you need to sit" – he shuffled them over a few paces to Jason's right – "there's a fountain here with a wide surface. If you need anything – just let Ariadne know, and she'll come get me, OK?"
Jason was overcome with gratitude for his friend. He nodded quickly, not trusting his voice to come out in anything but a squeak. A few deep breaths, a quick conversation with Ariadne, and he could be home and in bed again.
He smelled her before anything – the warm mix of spices and rose petals that always followed her. "Jason," she whispered in a strangled voice, "what has happened? Are you alright? As soon as I received word that you had been carried back in the city, I…"
Jason tried to follow her sound with his head, so he could at least pretend he could look into those beautiful almond eyes. "I'm fine, really" he tried to assure her. "I just had a bit of an… accident while hunting." The truth hung heavy in the air, embarrassing him further. Here he was, supposed to be this great warrior, and turns out, a lick of flame could fell him for weeks.
She gently touched the side of his head, not believing him for a moment that he was actually fine – she could see how his muscles hitched while standing, wanting to move even when standing still. No, Jason was not one to be wounded and be OK, she thought with a grim smile. However, she trusted his friends – they were too much like an odd family for her to be concerned about Jason. She started to berate herself mentally for dragging him out of bed, for commanding him to come at her side, as Queen, she couldn't afford her people to see weaknesses like this…
She looked down, and Jason had his hand timidly on her arm – wondering where she had gone, probably. "Hey," his low tone was obviously meant to sooth her, "are you still here?"
Ariadne smiled, vanishing her inner thoughts at once, and composing herself into a more queenly stance. "Yes, Jason. I'm glad to see you are not more gravely injured, and I'll let you get back home so you can rest." With a quick nod to the guards, Pythagoras scrambled into the room, taking into account Ariadne's departing back, Jason's heartache, and his wobbly knees. He grasped his friend's shoulders again, just to let him know he was there. "Let's go home, OK?" He barely waited for Jason to nod before latching Jason onto himself, and starting the long walk home, toward more cooling cloths, poultices, and rapidly diminishing hope that Jason would ever get better.
As soon as they arrived, Jason collapsed on his bed. He hadn't been sleeping well – his brain could never really tell when it was dark out, so he was in a weird, constant state of fatigue. He was so tired after their journey to the bathhouse and to the palace that he barely registered Pythagoras changing the bandage on his eyes again. With this latest change, Pythagoras was finally relieved to see the blisters were healing more, drying out and creating seamless skin once again. He knew that the skin on the eyelids was one of the most sensitive spots, so his poultices had been gentler – but that meant they also took more time to heal. He sighed; maybe after a good night's sleep all their problems would dissipate into the night sky.
Jason blinked in spite of the cool, light linen covering his eyes. He could see light – was it daylight? He tried cracking both eyes open, and this time, the right one actually listened to his brain, and opened. His brain started whirling with what this might mean, but he only knew of one person he needed at this moment – "Pythagoras!" he called, his voice louder than what he intended due to his excitement. His friend was by his bedside in an instant, Jason could see a slight blur in spite of his slits for eyes. He was afraid to move his head, afraid to breathe- after more than two weeks, could he finally see again? "What's wrong, Jason?" Pythagoras was checking for fever, for infection, for anything that could have made his friend shout like that. Jason took a shaky breath. "I … I think I can see again."
Pythagoras knew there was only one way to find out. He instructed Jason to cover his eyes – too much light could be a shock to the system, after over two weeks in the darkness – and slowly removed the linen. Jason blinked freely again. He could see the cracks of light between his fingers! He slowly removed them from his eyes, blinking as the sunlight suddenly rushed in. The first thing he really saw, aside from the light – was it always that bright? – was Pythagoras's worried face peering down at him. He caught his eyes and smiled. "I see you. I see you!" Pythagoras almost fell off his little stool. "Thank the gods!" And as always, with his perfect timing, Hercules stumbled in, still feeling the effects of last night's tavern debauchery. "You can see? Good. Make us breakfast, and try not to burn your face off" he said with a smile that showed his relief that his family was whole again.
Fin