A/N Well this story ended up being a lot more angsty than I intended! I've also never written anything that I would truly class as potential pre-slash before. Not that I have anything against slash fiction, I just didn't think I'd be any good at writing it because I struggle to write about any sort of romantic relationship to be honest - no matter who the participants in that relationship are.
Anyway, this has been written for round 7 of hurt/comfort bingo and fills the "Accidents" prompt on my bingo card - although in perhaps a somewhat lateral way. It's set between episodes 1.08 The Furies and 1.09 Pandora's Box.
Please let me know if you enjoy it.
"No need to thank me," Hercules stated grandly as he came into the house he shared with his two friends.
"Don't worry, we won't," Jason answered. He was sitting on the edge of his bed tying one of his wrist braces into place, pulling the knot tight with his teeth.
"Well you should," Hercules replied.
"Why?" Pythagoras asked suspiciously, looking up from the parchment he was working on. "What have you done?"
"With great skill and cunning I have managed to obtain for us some of the finest wine in all of Atlantis," Hercules proclaimed, producing four flagons from behind his back.
"Is Abreas the wine merchant trying to get rid of his gone off stock again?" Pythagoras asked giving his old friend an annoyed glare as he was forced to whisk his work out of the way when Hercules went to put the flagons down on top of it.
"You wound me Pythagoras," Hercules answered clutching his chest dramatically. "I'll have you know that this wine is finer than anything Abreas has ever sold. The sort that they serve in the Palace – not that those people would know good wine if it bit them. As long as it's expensive they don't care about the quality. This wine is truly nectar of the Gods"
"So you managed to get hold of some 'under the table' then," Pythagoras stated dryly, referring to the highly illegal wine sometimes found in some of the less reputable taverns Hercules was known to frequent.
"The trouble with you Pythagoras is that you don't know a good thing when you see it," Hercules grumbled, "or when you taste it for that matter."
"It just so happens that I do not believe that life revolves around wine… or pies for that matter," Pythagoras retorted.
While they were bickering Jason had ambled over and picked up one of the flagons.
"Where did this come from?" he asked. "I thought we were broke."
"We are," Pythagoras said with a glare at Hercules, "and Jason makes a good point… did you steal this?"
Hercules puffed out his chest.
"I'll have you know that I neither stole nor paid for this little bit of Elysium. This wine could have come from the Isles of the Blessed themselves."
"Where?" Jason asked.
"I will never fail to be astonished by your ignorance," Hercules muttered.
"If you did not buy or steal the wine, how did you get it?" Pythagoras asked, ignoring the brief exchange between his two housemates to get to the heart of the matter.
"I'm glad you asked that," Hercules replied. "I happened to meet my old friend Cyniscus in the agora earlier and he persuaded me to go to this delightful little tavern with him. Lovely little place just off the Artopoiós Way. The tavern keeper's daughter helps with the serving – pretty little thing she is too… not that it interests me of course – now I have Medusa I am a changed man. The pleasures of a beautiful woman no longer hold any desires for me. They serve the tastiest cheeky little pie there…"
"Hercules!" Pythagoras exclaimed in exasperation. "Get to the point!"
Hercules shot his friend an irritated look; mildly annoyed at being interrupted in full flow.
"As I was saying," he rumbled, "Cyniscus asked me to go to the tavern with him for a drink or two. He was trying to sound me out about a job he wants us to do for him."
"What sort of job?" Jason asked suspiciously, sitting down at the table. The jobs Hercules obtained for them were notorious for going wrong.
"Just a little guarding," Hercules replied evasively. "I don't know the precise details. I said we would meet him back in that lovely little tavern when the sun is at its highest point tomorrow to discuss it."
"So how did you get from there to bringing home four flagons of what you claim to be fine wine?" Pythagoras asked.
"I don't claim that it's fine wine Pythagoras," Hercules answered. "It is fine wine… the finest wine you will ever taste."
"Yes, yes… nectar of the Gods. You have already gone there," Pythagoras retorted. "But how did you come by it?"
"Cyniscus and I were having a pleasant time and he invited me to join a dice game in the corner," Hercules replied. "These were my reward for my skill with the dice." He gestured towards the flagons.
"You won them while gambling," Pythagoras stated flatly.
"Well when you put it like that…" Hercules sounded slightly hurt.
"Wait, if we're broke, where did you get the money from to bet?" Jason asked with a confused look.
Hercules gave his friends a shifty look.
"I found it," he mumbled.
"As in you found it in the street?" Pythagoras asked.
"Or as in, you found it under the loose floorboard under my bed?" Jason added.
"It's not stealing. It's borrowing," the burly wrestler replied hurriedly. "I liberated those coins for the common good and invested them on your behalf."
His two friends exchanged a frustrated look.
"You do know that to borrow something you have to have some intention of returning it?" Jason asked acidly. "Otherwise it is stealing."
"I have every intention of paying you boys back," Hercules protested, dropping onto a stool.
Pythagoras huffed a frustrated sigh.
"We were saving that money for food," he pointed out sharply.
Hercules smiled beatifically.
"Ah but who needs food when we have…"
"Nectar of the Gods," the two boys said together.
"I suspect you will not be saying that the next time you want a pie," Pythagoras added sharply, rolling his eyes. "I have never known a man whose heart and head is so ruled by his stomach."
"Your problem is that you always look on the black side of everything, Pythagoras," Hercules proclaimed. "You have no romance in your soul. We have fine wine and good company, what more could we want?"
"I will remind you of that the next time you are hungry and there is no food in the house," the young genius retorted.
"You worry too much."
"And you do not worry enough."
"Guys, come on," Jason interrupted their bickering. "Hercules is right. What's done is done." He turned to glare at the burly wrestler. "That doesn't mean I'm any happier than he is with you stealing our money," he added.
"It wasn't stealing. It was borrowing," Hercules said again.
"We'll just have to see what this job is tomorrow," Jason said to Pythagoras.
He turned back to Hercules.
"But it had better not be like that one for Medios that you signed us up for," he added warningly. "We're not crossing the desert again and I'm not working for anyone that threatens to cut off my fingers."
"I knew you'd see it my way." Hercules beamed. "Tonight we'll celebrate."
"Celebrate what?" Pythagoras asked incredulously. "We have no money!"
"Celebrate life," his older friend said expansively. "I'll invite Medusa over and we'll have an evening to remember."
It was late and Pythagoras had drunk rather more than was good for him. Hercules was right, he decided, the wine was very good; rich, fruity and potent. He didn't drink heavily as a rule – there were too many bad memories associated with his father's heavy drinking for that – but tonight the wine had caused a warm glow that spread throughout his chest, leaving him feeling loose and relaxed.
In the far corner of the room, Hercules was whispering sweet nothings in Medusa's ears; making her blush and laugh by turns. Pythagoras watched them with a benevolent smile. It was nice to see Hercules so happy for once. Medusa was good for him. Pythagoras had believed that his old friend would never settle down – was destined to be an eternal bachelor – but he would be more than happy to be proved wrong.
It would be nice to give the couple a little privacy though, so Pythagoras pushed himself to his feet and weaved his way unsteadily out onto the balcony. The fresh air might do him some good too, he decided.
"Pythagoras." Pythagoras heard Jason before he saw him. "Come. Sit. Talk."
His sometimes ridiculously heroic friend was sitting on the floor, tucked into the window recess of their covered balcony, back against a supporting pillar and legs curled around himself, with a cup of wine in one hand and a flagon on the floor near his knees. He smiled hazily at Pythagoras and it occurred to the young genius that his friend might be just as tipsy as he himself was.
Pythagoras weaved across the balcony and slid to the floor alongside Jason, so close to his friend that their shoulders were touching. He felt good.
"What are you doing out here on your own?" he asked.
"Thinking," Jason replied with a lazy smile.
"Careful," Pythagoras teased. "That could be dangerous."
Jason snorted a laugh.
"Hercules was right," he said. "This wine is good… but don't tell him I told you that. We'd never hear the end of it."
"Do not worry," Pythagoras answered. "I will not tell him."
Jason chuckled again. He put his cup down on the ground and made to push himself to his feet, only to overbalance and fall back onto his bottom. Pythagoras couldn't help the snigger that escaped him.
"It's stronger than we usually have too," Jason remarked, curling his legs around himself once more; not bothering to try to get up again.
The two young men sat in friendly silence for a time. Pythagoras was very aware of the warm weight of Jason down his one side as they nestled together like young children exchanging confidences. It was all very comfortable and comforting – something that the mathematician desperately needed after all the drama of their recent journey to Helios and the resurfacing memories of his father's abuse and death it had stirred up. Eventually he stirred himself slightly, his curiosity getting the better of him.
"Jason?" he asked. "What were you thinking about?"
"Mmm?"
"When I came out here you said you were thinking… what were you thinking about?"
"Oh that," Jason murmured with a slightly self-deprecating chuckle. "Nothing really. I was just wondering if anything ever happens by accident or if it's all meant to be."
Pythagoras frowned.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"Well, take me being here for example," Jason replied. "I set out to find out what happened to my father. One minute I'm in the sub in the middle of the ocean… nowhere near any land… then there's a bright light in the water and the next thing I know I'm waking up on the beach here. How the hell did I get here Pythagoras? I should have drowned but I'm here instead. That can't be an accident, can it?"
Pythagoras cast a sidelong glance at his friend. Aside from the mad rambling he had done when he first arrived on their doorstep, this was probably the most Jason had ever spoken about how he had come to Atlantis. The young genius had never really understood why Jason kept his past so secret; it was a little annoying to be honest although he supposed he could hardly complain – after all he had kept his own secrets for so many years until they had been dragged out into the light of day… but surely there could be nothing that bad in Jason's past?
From what he was saying now it sounded very much as though he had been shipwrecked in some way. Pythagoras supposed he should have been surprised by that and yet he wasn't.
"Well I for one am very glad that you didn't drown," he murmured. "For you to have been saved from the middle of the ocean can only have been the work of the Gods – unless you were a lot closer to land than you had believed. They had a purpose for you Jason. They brought you safely to Atlantis." He laid a hand on his friend's arm. "I believe you are right in thinking that this can be no accident."
Jason looked down at the hand on his arm and then back up at Pythagoras with a slightly quizzical expression, but he did not attempt to move his arm.
"You have never spoken of your past and I have tried to respect that," Pythagoras went on. "After all we all have aspects of our pasts that we do not wish to talk of… that we would choose to forget… but I would like to think that we are close enough that you could tell me anything and that I would not judge… and I have to admit that I would be fascinated to hear a little about the place you came from. I would guess that it is a long distance from here and very different to Atlantis."
"You have no idea," Jason replied hoarsely. "I can't even begin to tell you how far away from here it really is."
His eyes grew distant, seeming to look right through Pythagoras, and the mathematician had the feeling that in his head Jason was suddenly thousands of leagues away.
"It's very green," Jason said suddenly. "Grass, trees, flowers… it rains a lot you see… and it's colder than here… much colder. I miss the rain. I never really liked being out in it but I miss the way that everything smelled so clean and new once it was over."
That didn't sound entirely pleasant to Pythagoras but he held his tongue, worried that if he interrupted Jason would clam up once more.
"There are so many little things I miss," Jason went on. "Things I would never have thought I would miss. Safety razors… tea… having a curry on a Friday night… shower gel and deodorant… t-shirts… stupid things… and you don't have a clue what I'm talking about. Everything was different to here."
He petered off into silence, eyes still betraying the fact that he was far away. There was something a little lost in his eyes though – a distant ache of sorrow that Pythagoras knew only too well; had seen often enough in his own reflection when he remembered his father and his past. It hurt him to see it in Jason's eyes but he didn't know how to remove it.
"Jason," he began.
"So what about you?" Jason asked, rallying himself. "What was growing up on Samos like?"
"Not so very different to Atlantis actually," Pythagoras replied. "Smaller… more provincial… but in essence it was very similar. We worked or studied as our lives allowed… kept the feast days and worshipped the Gods… all the customary things. I was never very good at physical pursuits and my father… well let us just say that he would have preferred a son who was less academic and more given to sporting or military prowess. Once Arcas came along he got his wish. My brother was always faster and stronger than I was. My father never bothered to hide his disdain for me. My mother tried to make up for it… but it was never quite the same. He was a vicious and cruel drunk. In some men alcohol brings out the worst in their characters. My father was such a man."
Jason covered the hand still on his arm with his own.
"I'm sorry," he said earnestly. "I didn't mean to dredge up bad memories."
Pythagoras attempted a smile.
"Do not be silly," he admonished. "It is long in the past. Still, I would not have wished for the end that he came to – to be murdered by his own son."
"You didn't murder him," Jason retorted forcefully. "Everything you've said about how it happened… it was an accident. You do know that don't you?"
"Weren't you just speculating that nothing happens by accident?" Pythagoras responded.
"I wasn't saying that accidents don't happen," Jason replied. "If Hercules knocks a dish off the table that's an accident."
"Actually that is usually Hercules stumbling about while drunk or hungover," Pythagoras interrupted.
Jason shot him an exasperated look.
"You know what I mean," he said. "Things do happen by accident and you know it. You didn't mean for your father to die. It was an accident." He paused for a moment. "I guess what I was wondering was… well… whether everything happens for a reason… whether there's some sort of plan for us all… whether there's someone or something out there controlling everything."
"You mean the Moirai… the Fates," Pythagoras replied softly. "Clotho, Lachesis and Atropos. They control the span of life; from spinning the thread that creates it to cutting it when it ends."
"Maybe," Jason answered. "I don't know. It was more… do you think it's possible for someone to defy their destiny?"
"But surely if it is their destiny then it cannot be avoided?"
"Even if they don't want it?"
Pythagoras sighed.
"I do not believe that what we may wish comes into the consideration of either the Moirai or the Gods," he said. "We are but playthings to them… but this is a very serious and philosophical conversation for a pleasant evening… and not one which I would have expected to be having with you."
"Blame it on the wine," Jason answered, draining his cup and reaching out to refill it. "I tend to get philosophical when I'm tiddly."
For some reason hearing Jason describe himself as being 'tiddly' struck Pythagoras as enormously funny – perhaps because he was on the wrong side of sober himself. He burst out into incredulous giggles – something he was joined in by his companion a moment later.
Finally they both managed to calm their raucous laughter down, shoulders still hitching with suppressed laughter.
"You know I've managed to drink almost a full flagon on my own," Jason remarked. "Somehow I don't think I'm going to be able to remember very much of tonight in the morning."
Pythagoras couldn't restrain himself from laughing again, which might have been a mistake since he was halfway through taking a gulp of wine at the time. He found himself half hiccoughing and spluttering as Jason relieved him of his cup and pounded him lightly on the back to try to stop him from choking.
"Sorry," he coughed, once he could speak again.
Jason chuckled. He turned to face his friend and looked at him curiously, head cocked to one side.
"You have a little…" he began pointing at Pythagoras' mouth.
Before Pythagoras could respond, Jason reached out with one hand and cupped the mathematician's face, fingers resting lightly against his cheek and thumb swiping gently across his lips to remove the droplets of wine that rested there, brow furrowed in concentration.
Pythagoras' eyes opened very wide at the sudden heat that seemed to flow through him. Jason froze and looked at him, hand still lingering just a touch too long on Pythagoras' face.
Time seemed to stop. Pythagoras swallowed hard suddenly realising just how close they were to one another. His eyes roamed across his friend, taking in the way Jason's eyes are very wide and very dark right now, the way Jason was looking at him as though he were a particularly interesting puzzle to be worked out and the way his dark haired friend has caught his lower lip between his teeth. The young mathematician felt dizzy, although not from the effects of the wine.
Neither one of them moved.
Pythagoras was very aware of the hand cupping his face, the thumb moving gently back and forth on his lips. The air was suddenly very heavy and charged with something. Pythagoras' mouth had gone dry and he suddenly felt stone cold sober as though he had been doused in cold water. He swallowed hard again, very aware of the fact that Jason was just inches away from him and that he should probably say something when all his mind could do was scream "Please, please, please".
"What are you two plotting?" Hercules' voice, coming from the entrance to the balcony, was loud, harsh and jarring.
And just like that the moment was broken.
Jason pulled away, movements still loose and lazy, and grinned up at the wrestler.
"Just putting the world to rights," he said. "It's good wine," he added, pushing himself up to his feet and swaying slightly as he did. "Strong though."
Hercules laughed and clapped him on the back, nearly knocking him off balance.
"Lightweight," he chortled.
"Sod off," Jason retorted without rancour.
He weaved his way back into the main part of the house.
Hercules turned to Pythagoras with a smirk, which turned into a confused frown as he took in the expression on his younger friend's face.
"Did I interrupt something?" he rumbled.
"No," said Pythagoras shortly. "You didn't."
He also stood and began to move across the balcony.
"I thought for a minute the two of you were planning some sort of trick to play on me," Hercules said.
"No, nothing like that," Pythagoras replied distractedly. "We were just talking."
He paused in the doorway of the balcony, looking into the room.
It had never been his intention to develop feelings for Jason; he had meant to simply be a good friend to the other man when he had come into his life. From the start he had been aware that Jason was handsome (very handsome, his mind unhelpfully supplied) but that had not been what attracted him. No, he had been lured in by the peculiar mix of strength, heroism and vulnerability. Jason was special. Falling for him had been a complete accident; a secret that Pythagoras had tried very hard to conceal.
Across the room, Jason had caught hold of Medusa and was twirling her around the room as she laughed in what Pythagoras could only assume was some sort of strange dance. He caught the mathematician's eyes and smiled cheerfully.
Pythagoras returned the smile automatically, unable to help himself in the face of his friend's happiness. His mind was in turmoil though. What had that strange moment out on the balcony meant? He sighed. Jason apparently had no inclinations or attraction for members of his own gender on any normal day and had a clearly stated preference for the Princess Ariadne. It had to have been the wine that made him act as he had a few minutes ago. Yet surely he wouldn't have let his hand linger on Pythagoras' face in the way he had if he had felt nothing would he?
Pythagoras watched his friend dancing around the room, his dark curls bobbing. Whatever that moment had been it had passed now and he was certain that, not only would Jason not remember it when he was sober, but it wasn't likely to be repeated.
He sighed again, bitterly. Right now it felt like the Gods were having one almighty joke at his expense. Jason had been speculating about the nature of fate and whether anything ever happened by accident. Well if this was the Gods' design then Pythagoras could do without it, thank you very much.
He would put it all out of his mind, he decided; would try to forget the fact that just for a moment Jason had unwittingly given him hope. Yet the phantom feeling of a hand on his face still lingered; the ghost of a gentle touch running across his lips.
But the moment had been lost and Pythagoras was very much afraid it would not come again.