Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I'm just playing with other people's toys. I promise I've returned to them to their shelves, unharmed.
A/N: written because the Disney 'verse needs more of the original mythology incorporated into it, damnit.
I've taken some Disney-esque liberties here, and decided to make Iolaus just some random Thebian (like in Hercules: The Legendary Journeys) and not Hercules' nephew. Not because I don't dig Greek incest, but because in the Disney version Iphicles doesn't exist, and therefore could not produce Iolaus. Basically, I've taken the H:TLJ version and Disney-ized him. :D
Collide
Phil takes him to Thebes, says it's a good a place as any to practice being a hero. The city is constantly plagued by disasters of all kinds, natural and unnatural alike, so there's a good chance he'll wind up having to save someone from something eventually. They just have to wait, but Phil is positive something will turn up, because something always does in Thebes.
They wander the crowded streets, and Hercules jokes that it must be an off day, because nothing out of the ordinary is happening, that despite the edginess of the people, it seems like any other day in any other city. Phil doesn't have time to retort, to tell him this is the calm before the storm, because suddenly there's a weight against his back and there's a body toppling over his, stumbling into Hercules. Phil watches his charge and the strange fall to the ground and wind up a tangled mess of knotted, lanky limbs.
"Sorry," the other boy replies, quick to heave himself off of Hercules and brush his shoulder length, dirty-blond hair out of his face, slicking it back clumsily with one hand only to have it fall right back into its previous place.
"What's the hurry?" Hercules asks, getting back to his feet, brushing dirt from his tunic. Habitually not the sharpest of tools, for once he's quick to catch on – Phil assumes this may only be because he's eager for the test run he's been promised. He's quick to ask, "are you in trouble or something?"
The kid looks behind him, over one shoulder and then the other, then back to Hercules. "Uh... yeah. These guys, they're after me."
However quick Hercules may have been, Phil's always quicker. "What'd ya do? Rip 'em off?" he asks, because this boy has trouble written all over him.
He looks from the satyr to the other boy, then gives a start when he hears familiar voices, one leading the other straight toward them. "What's it to you, shorty?" he asks, glaring despite his nervousness.
"We ain't helpin' no crook," Phil states and reaches for Hercules' hand, but the demi-god refuses to budge. He's staring at the stranger, and Phil can tell he's torn between helping him and leaving him to fend for himself. He's a bad apple, but nobody is beyond retribution. And before Phil can so much as open his mouth to affirm his protests, Hercules is reaching for the other boy's wrist, pulling him closer, then shoving him roughly into a nearby alley.
When the thugs pass them by, ask if they've seen a thief, Hercules struggles to keep a straight face when he lies and says they haven't. The others warn them before they continue their hunt, tell them to keep an eye out and not trust him, 'cause he'll rob them blind if given the chance.
"Why'd ya do that, kid?" Phil asks, using anger to mask his disappointment. "That guy was a bum and you helped him! That ain't what bein' a hero's about, ya know. Bein' a hero's about helpin' those who deserve it an' – "
"But who knows what they would have done to him, Phil?" Hercules interjects, clearly worried, because he's learned that the world is harsh and cruel and sometimes the price paid for a crime is too high and unjust. Like Cassandra, for example: cursed to foresee the future but never to be believed, an outrageous consequence for a love unrequited.
Phil's angry facade fades and he rubs a hand against the back of his neck, shaking his head. "You got a lot to learn still," he tells him. A lot to learn, indeed, like how to harden his heart and make it impenetrable, because mistakes like this can't be made in the big leagues.
"I think we're done for the day," Phil concludes, and Hercules takes on this look that reminds the trainer of heroes of a beaten animal. He looks away and starts the walk back to Pegasus, leaving Hercules to follow at his own pace.
Before he can start walking, there's a hand on his shoulder, and though the weight of it is nothing for him, he can't bring himself to shake it off. He glances at the calloused fingers, then back to his feet.
"I gotta go," he says quickly, suddenly feeling like a child again, remembering the day Alcmene told him to never talk to strangers.
"I just wanna say thanks," the boy behind him says, and Hercules slowly shrugs the hand away and turns around to face him. "Nobody's ever done something like that for me before."
Hercules wants to tell him that's probably because he's a thief and nobody likes a thief, but instead he stares into eyes a paler shade of blue than his own, and something inside tells him this kid isn't as bad as he's made out to be. There's more to him than sticky fingers, but no one's bothered to look beyond that before.
He'll be the first, he thinks as he extends a hand and offers a smile.
"You're welcome." A pause, and then, almost shyly, "my name's Hercules."
The kid stares at the offered hand, then slowly places his own within its surprisingly strong grasp.
"Call me Iolaus."
They shake hands, perhaps a little too roughly on Hercules' behalf, and then, on Phil's impatient call, they go their separate ways.
One silently hopes for another meeting, and the other vows to himself that one day he'll return.
"What's wrong, Herc, my man?" Icarus asks, never failing to notice when the resident wonder-boy's moods are dampened.
"Phil's mad at me," the redhead replies sullenly, then promptly lets his head fall to the stone cafeteria table.
"There's something new," Cassandra says with a smirk and a roll of her eyes. "What'd you do this time?"
"Nothing!" Hercules quickly protests, lifting his head, only to be met with stares of disbelief from his two best friends. He sighs, lets his shoulders slump, then admits, "when we to Thebes for training the other day, I... helped this guy."
"Uh, isn't that what heroes do?" Icarus inquires, momentarily and genuinely confused. "Help people?"
Hercules hesitates before saying, "not when that person is a thief."
"Oh, you rebel," Cassandra drawls, and Icarus is left fish-mouthed.
"He was being chased and, and I just couldn't let them catch him. Who knows what they would have done to him?" Hercules protests, brow furrowing.
"Do you really wanna know?" Cassandra asks, eyebrow cocked, and Hercules shakes his head.
"He didn't seem like a bad guy. Well, y'know, other than being a thief."
"Herc, ya got too big a heart, ya know that?" Icarus quips, slapping his friend on the back. He's neither thrilled or appalled by Hercules' actions, knowing full well that he sees things in people others don't.
"Yeah," Hercules mumbles, and understands Icarus' words aren't entirely complimentary.
"Phil'll get over it," Icarus assures him. "He always does."
"Not this time," Hercules mumbles, trying on a half-hearted smile for his two closest friends.
"And why not?" Icarus persists, one eyebrow arched.
"'Cause," Hercules says, "I'm going back tonight."
And that's when Cassandra's eyes cloud over and she sees things she shouldn't: the not-so-distant future, discarded clothing, a lovers' knot and a promise of forever on bruised, flushed lips.
She snaps out of her trance, gapes at Hercules, and is quick to stop Icarus from trying to talk him out of going back to Thebes. When he asks why after Hercules leaves their table, she mumbles a very quiet, ironic, "you wouldn't believe me if I told you."
It doesn't take long to find Iolaus, it's just a matter of sifting through the shadiest places in Thebes. When Hercules does find him, he's counting a handful of denars, and it makes Hercules' throat run dry, because everything he's been taught is whizzing through his brain and he knows he should nab him and turn him in. But – and there always will be a but when it comes to Iolaus, Hercules thinks – he can't and he won't, and he's not entirely sure why.
Iolaus doesn't hear him come up behind him, only realizes he's not alone in the dark when it's too late, when that strong hand is around his nimble wrist and the money is falling to the cracked, dead ground. He's obviously quite shocked, but all words fail him when he sees just who is holding him captive. His mouth opens and closes, and he reminds Hercules of a fish out of water, trying to breath.
"Did you steal that?" the demi-god asks, looking to the coins at their feet.
"What's it to ya?" Iolaus snaps, tries to jerk his hand free, and winces when Hercules squeezes just a little too hard. "Damnit, that's, uh... That's quite a grip you got there."
"Sorry," Hercules apologizes, slowly releases, then bends to pick up the money. He holds it tight in his hand, frowning at the boy in front of him. "Why do you steal?"
Iolaus stares at him as though he's asked the stupidest question in the world, and maybe he has. "Well," he starts, rubbing the back of his neck, then crossing his arms over his chest, "why not?"
"What do you mean?"
Iolaus smirks and exhales deeply before he speaks again. "Guys like me," he explains, "don't know any other way to get by. It's not like I got a little nanny-goat taking care of me."
His words sting, but Hercules doesn't let it bother him much, because he understands bitterness caused by others having what you think you're entitled to. He doesn't press the matter, figures if things work out then in time he'll know Iolaus' story. He simply sighs and hands over the money, a half-smile on his lips.
"What? You're not gonna turn me in?" the other boy asks, then slowly takes the coins and stashes them inside his coin-pouch.
"No," Hercules says simply, shrugging. "I don't think you're lying. So, if it's what you need, it's what you need, right?"
And Iolaus is gaping, blue eyes wide and intense and for one brief moment Hercules thinks this is what it must feel like to be a god, to be looked upon with awe and amazement. That feeling is crushed fast, however, and replaced by embarrassment, because nobody's ever stared at him like that before.
"What?" he mumbles, fighting the urge to kick at the ground and duck his head like a shy little boy.
Then Iolaus realizes he's been staring, and now it's his turn to flush. He rubs the back of his neck, then shrugs with his arms wide open before placing his fists on his hips. "The world could do with a few more guys like you." He chuckles quietly, shakes his head and grins lopsidedly. "It'd be a better place, I think. People would get the chances they deserve, then."
And Hercules swears his heart has never beat like this before, skipping and pounding as it slowly descends to the pit of his stomach.
"Uh, thanks," he mumbles.
"So, how long are you in town this time, Herc?"
Hercules thinks of Phil's anger and of Pegasus waiting to take him back home and how worried Icarus and Cassandra might be when he doesn't show up at school tomorrow and how much nicer that nickname sounds when Iolaus says it.
The words roll all too easily off his tongue:
"As long as you want me to be."
They make a habit out of it.
Hercules leaves Phil's island and never says a word, because he knows his trainer will have his head if he finds out he's going to Thebes, and to hang out with a lowly bandit no less. He stays away for days, the faces Phil's anger and his punishments with a stiff upperlip, because it's all so worth it. Being with Iolaus and feeling like a god and like a boy and not some motley mix between is so very, very worth the insane lengths Phil pushes him to.
It doesn't take long, however, before Phil catches on.
"Sit down, Rookie," Phil demands, pointing to a broken pillar.
"What's up, Phil?" Hercules asks, taking a seat.
"You know," the satyr says. "This sneakin' out and comin' back a few days later bit."
"Oh, that."
"Yeah, that." He takes the vacant space beside his charge. "Look, I know I'm gettin' up there, but I'm not blind yet. I see what's goin' on."
"Y-you do?"
And Hercules feels his insides shaking as the panic begins to rise, because if Phil knows then he's done for.
"So, ya gonna tell me who this girl is?"
Slowly, very slowly, the interal tremors cease and Hercules actually laughs once it what was said sinks in. He slaps Phil on the back, subsequently sending him tumbling off the piece of pillar, then says all too casually, "oh, don't worry, Phil! It's not a girl."
It's only later, after the sun has set and Phil's gone to bed and he's still lifting weights that Hercules realizes what he said. A new kind of panic builds up inside of him and he drops the weight, and he feels sick and he feels wonderful and he thinks this is wrong but he knows that it's right and he has to sit down because the world just won't stop spinning.
He wonders how this happened and if it's real, because he's only eighteen and he's never been in love before.
...and a small part of him hopes he'll never be in love again.
It's a daring move, but Hercules finally brings Iolaus to Phil's island. He figures if he's being honest with himself, it's about time he's honest with Phil and Icarus and Cassandra.
Phil is fuming, Icarus is jealous, and Cassandra is positively smug.
"I told you this was a bad idea," Iolaus says, arms crossed over his chest. "Just take me back to Thebes."
"Wait – Phil, can't he stay? Please?" Hercules begs, promptly following the satyr as he begins to stomp back to his home.
"No way, no how!"
Not seeing any other choice, Hercules picks his trainer up, and fixes him with this look that sends shivers up and down Phil's spine. It's pleading and intense and honest and he can't help but at least listen to what the kid has to say.
"Back there, he's not really living. I was thinking, maybe, he could stay with us, and you could train him to be a hero, too – "
"This guy?" Icarus laughs, thumbing toward Iolaus. "A hero? Looks more like a sidekick to me!"
Iolaus shrugs. "Whatever works for you, works for me."
Phil sighs, his body going limp in Hercules' arms. He looks passed him, toward Iolaus and asks, "can ya fight, kid?"
"Sure can."
"Any special talents I should be aware of?"
"I know a few old hunter's tricks that come in handy now and then."
And Phil knows what's going to happen, because he's trained reckless guys like him before. Sure, he'll learn fast and do wonders out there, but only for so long. He'll get taken out in the long run, just like all the others – unless he doesn't go it alone.
"Alright," Phil says after a few moments of silence, "alright."
Hercules hugs him tight and sets him down, then smiles broadly over at Iolaus.
"You two, you're partners from now on, understood?"Phil says.
"Understood," they say in unison.
After the excitement wears off and Icarus and Cassandra are gone and Phil's busying himself with training equipment, Hercules turns to his new partner and slings an arm around his shoulders.
"You'll see," he says, "things are gonna get better from here on out."
Iolaus glances at him, memorizes that smile and the way those blue eyes sparkle in the setting sun's light, and finds himself smiling back.
"You're right, Herc. You're so very right."
Phil watches them grow before his very eyes, those lanky boys turning into men all their own. Hercules is more brawn than brains, but that's alright because what Iolaus lacks in body mass, he makes up for with his wit. They're a good team, if Phil does say so himself, and he's silently thankful Hercules was bold enough to bring Iolaus to him. Not because he's training the best of the best now, but because the chances they would have stayed together otherwise were slim.
He sends them out into the world to face monsters and perform labors and they never let him down – that is, until Hades unleashes the titans.
It's not the easiest task in the world, but Hercules manages – with some divine help – to lock the brutes away again. Hopefully forever this time. But any and all celebrations have to wait, because the battle didn't go without its casualties.
Iolaus lies amongst the dead.
The Gods and Goddesses retreat back to their mountain, not caring to partake in what is about to unravel. Hercules stumbles toward his partner's body, falls to his knees and grasps feebly at the cooling corpse. The child-like part of him that he now fears he will always have wants to shake Iolaus and scream at him until he opens his eyes, but he knows that won't happen.
Not without persuasion, anyway.
He pulls away from the body, and whispers that hated name: "Hades."
With no response, he tries again, louder: "Hades."
When it appears he's being ignored, and rightfully so, considering he just pummeled the dark God and foiled his plans for cosmic domination, he pounds both fists into the ground and screams. Then suddenly, just like that, he's in the Underworld, and Hades is approaching slowly, long fingers pressed to his temples.
"What do you want from me, kid?" he asks, clearly annoyed and exasperated.
"I want Iolaus back," Hercules says, cutting straight to the point.
The blue flames burn bright red, but Hades doesn't raise his voice, he simply takes a breath and motions for Hercules to follow him. He leads him to a pool of souls that will be sorted accordingly; the good will go to the Elysian fields, and the rest will go to Tartarus.
Hercules can see Iolaus floating in the pool, being dragged down deeper by the second. It won't be long before he loses him.
"You want him?" Hades asks, and it's a simply question with a far more complicated answer. "Then go get him."
"If I reach him," Hercules says, "you let him go."
"Hey," Hades laughs, casually, calmly, "you have my word."
Hercules doesn't say another word before he jumps, dives into the dead pool, and Hades grins because he's positive there's no way Hercules will reach Iolaus in time. Either the soul will be whisked away, or Hercules, still not being of the divine, will wither away and die before he can reach him.
Even if he couldn't overthrown the universe, he'll have at least gotten rid of his nephew – or caused him life-long grief. Not the best case scenarios, but he wasn't about to complain.
Hercules is diving deeper, getting older, growing weaker, and Iolaus is drifting farther away. He can feel himself dying and he damns his mortality, but he'll gladly give it up if it means he can just reach Iolaus in time. Except, he knows he won't, not at this rate. The whirlpool's too fast and he's too slow and his heart is giving out.
"Yes," Hades hisses through sharp, dagger-like teeth, fists clenched, fire burning hot again, but this time with excitement. Because Hercules is almost there, but almost isn't good enough, and even if he's threading his fingers through those of the ghost, he's going limp and –
There's a blinding light, and when Hades can see straight again, he's looking a very God-like Hercules, and in his arms is Iolaus' ghost.
Hercules cuts his irate babbling short with a punch to the face, then returns to the world of the living. He knees at Iolaus' body again, eases the spirit back inside and waits.
When Iolaus takes that first breath, it's all he can do not to crush him in a hug. Iolaus laughs weakly and eases out of Hercules' grasps, laying back down on the ground, because right now anything is better than sitting or standing – even if that anything includes laying in a pool of his own drying blood.
"You saved my life," he says quietly, "at the cost of your own."
"And I'd do it again," Hercules admits, and suddenly it's all out there and he doesn't care. Because, honestly, now that he thinks about it, it's been there all along, and it's been mutual, and he's been stupid not to understand that before now.
"I don't think that's an option, Herc," Iolaus laughs.
"Oh, right," Hercules says, looking down to his hands, wrapped in a golden glow.
"You did it. You're a God," Iolaus praises, proud and hurting and confused because he doesn't really know what this means. But he does know one thing, and that's that Gods don't live on earth with mortals.
"So," he goes on, "I guess this is goodbye anyway, huh?"
Hercules takes Iolaus' hands in his own, squeezes, but not too hard, and means it when he says, "I'd give up my immortality if it means I could live the rest of my life with you."
"Are you certain that's what you want, son?"
There's a bolt of lightning and a crack of thunder and then there's Zeus, smiling warmly, proudly down at his boy.
Hercules looks from his father back to Iolaus, and he doesn't have to second guess himself. He stands very slowly and speaks properly to Zeus.
"Father, all my life I've trained to be a hero, to earn my place on Mount Olympus, but... But it won't mean anything without him," he says, glancing back to Iolaus for a moment.
Zeus' smile softens and he nods, and a moment later the glow fades and he's that motley mix of man and God again, but at least he knows where he belongs.
"I can't believe you gave it up," Iolaus says, days after the fact. "You gotta be some kind of mad to pass up immortality, especially for a guy like me."
"People do crazy things when they're in love," Hercules chuckles, and Iolaus rolls his eyes.
"Well, now you're stuck with me."
"I wouldn't have it any other way."
-End