Kind readers,
I could make all sorts of excuses for this fic, but in fact, I'm still rather proud of it, as it was my first HtLj/XWP crossover
story. I wrote it in collaboration with a dear friend, Crystl, many, many moons ago. She and I put months of effort into it, emailing
and talking back and forth. She made sure I got Gabrielle and Callisto just right. I was writing Iolaus and Hercules into a story
for the first time here, too.
If this fic fit into PRPs time line, it would be sometime not long after Top God and Reunions.
One thing I know you're going to catch right away is Iolaus calling Gabrielle 'Gabby' as Joxer did. It simply felt right in the context
of this story.
I hope you will enjoy it. Crystl and I meant it to show a different side of Hercules than the constantly upbeat 'big guy' on the series,
not counting of course his feuds with Hera and Ares.
Thanx
Rielle
Prologue What Dreams May Come, by Rielle
Hercules walked through long, grey halls, where the walls seemed
built of blocks of pearly-gray marble only a Titan or two could lift.
Curtains and hangings as long as the walls were high clouded
everything in twilight's shadings seemed made of layers of
translucent dusk colored silk. Worse, the halls and stairways and
courts he wandered in were puzzle pieces, cutting off abruptly in one
direction or another, giving no access where there had been one an
instant before. Frustrated, he strode on, and on, hearing voices, and
sometimes managing to glimpses of other denizens of what felt more
and more like some kind of prison.
At first both the voices and the forms were indistinct, muffled as if
too far away for him to discern. But as the demigod walked on, always
it seemed through the same grey halls and staircases and courtyards,
he began to recognize first voices, than people, Cheiron, his centaur
teacher tried to catch his breath, coughing and hacking as he
struggled to ask Hercules' help. Nemesis defied Hera's wrath out of
her love for him. Hippolyta, the beautiful Amazon queen struggled
with the same dilemma, becoming his lover instead of his enemy. All
of these things seemed to be happening all at once, driving the son
of Zeus to reach for the friend or lover he saw in need of his help,
his strength, his love. And each time he reached out, the silken
hangings turned in the blink of an eye into marble blocks set more
cleanly one upon another than any human masonry could ever devise.
He literally could not reach any of the people he heard, and all were
calling out for his aid. But the voice Hercules heard most clearly
now was Iolaus', the hunter who had grown to be more than his
brother, his comrade or his friend. Finding in Iolaus' clear gaze the
love and serenity he needed so badly, Hercules had sworn a hundred
times he would never disappoint Iolaus, again. He would never leave
him stranded, never take him for granted, and never neglect Iolaus again.
So now the chill of the grey halls went through Hercules like a
spearhead made of Hephaetus' grey metal. He could hear Iolaus' warm,
carrying voice everywhere he turned, but he could not see the hunter
anywhere. And now the other shapes of pain and struggle and death
he'd seen drove Hercules on through those halls as quickly as their
twists and turns would allow.
But now more voices came to Hercules. And each of these was more
heartbreaking than the last, and each scene he saw, more devastating.
He saw his young friends dying in needless wars, his mother
struggling with loneliness and the intermittent affections of a god,
his half siblings, the Olympians, scorning his care for human family
and friends. He heard his children's laughing voices turned to
shrieks of fear and pain, and then cut off, forever, because Hera
hated their father. He heard and saw, before closing his eyes tight
against the view, his wife Deianeira dying in horror and regret with
their sons, Clonus and Aeson and their tiny daughter Ilaia. He saw
Serena, who gave up her own immortality and so much more to be with
him, brutally killed out of Ares' spite and jealousy. And he saw
Xena, who had come so far out of her own darkness and fear, only to
be cast near the edge of death by the god of war's unending thirst
for power and for revenge.
He could still hear Iolaus, his voice but not his words, and there
wasn't any pain or fear in the hunter's voice. But the normally
cheery tone wasn't there, either. Iolaus was apparently having a
conversation he'd just as soon not, and considering how much Iolaus
liked the sound of his own voice, that was enough to signal a
problem. Finally, Hercules heard what Iolaus was saying, and there
was no mistaking there was trouble. The hunter hated bargaining. When
younger he'd stolen food rather than try to negotiate the price of a
loaf of bread or sausage or fruit pie. But now Iolaus was doing just
that, quibbling.
"You really don't need to do this, you know." Hercules heard his friend saying.
"There's always another way to handle these things. For instance, wouldn't you feel better if
we both just admitted that wasn't the best way the matter could have been handled?"
Hercules heard no response at all, which only made him more concerned
who Iolaus might be dealing with. "Look, things don't always work out
the way we want, do they?" Iolaus asked. "And maybe you should have
known the past can't be changed. I wasn't sure of that, myself. I
only knew the big guy would take the same chance for me, if he
thought the world would be changed like that for lack of one
scapegrace wandering hunter. After all, Callisto, even you wouldn't
want to see Xena become that Conqueror or whatever she was. . . would
you?"
Callisto! Hercules thought, running now in the direction he most
clearly heard Iolaus' voice. She's sworn to kill him for ruining her
plans in the past! "Iolaus, stall her, trick her, hide from her, I'm
on my way!" The son of Zeus normally could run faster and farther at
a stretch than a chariot's team. But now, now when he was most
desperate to reach his brother, his friend and lover, he could barely
move his legs against the resisting air. He felt as if he were half
encased in one of the Titan-sized marble blocks.
"Iolaus! Run! Run from her! Iolaus! I can't reach you, get
away . . .Gods, please, get him away from her! Please, please,
please, not again! Not again! Not Again!"
Now, still unable to move any closer, Hercules saw the hunter facing down the mad goddess.
Seeing Hercules, Iolaus seemed suddenly sure nothing could go wrong and grinned brightly.
Watching the demigod, sunnily unaware that Hercules could get no closer than a few arms'
lengths, Iolaus waved to his friend. And in that instant, under his upraised arm,
Callisto brought her sword down with every ounce of insane strength in her frame.
Iolaus, with hardly time to look surprised, much less pained by the blow,
fell at her feet, his head lolling sickly to one side, his bright eyes clouding in death.
As Hercules gave a guttural howl, Iolaus died, and Callisto turned to blow a kiss to the demigod,
before she disappeared
"Iolaus! No!" Hercules cried out, and sat up staring at the campsite
in a daze. He was shaking and drenched in a freezing sweat at the
same time, feeling dizzy, almost nauseated. Forcing himself to look
carefully around himself and his bedroll, he found another curled up
figure under a heap of covers. Reaching gingerly, very much afraid of
what he might find, Hercules pulled back the topmost layer of woven
bedclothes. A golden head of hair, curiously peaceful features and a
jutting chin appeared, attached to a strong neck, a wiry torso and
all the rest of the strong, hunter's body that moved rhythmically in
its sleep, just as it should, emitting all the usual sounds,
including a deep snoring Hercules professed to hate.
"By the gods, it was a dream. No it was a nightmare!" Hercules
realized, pulling a very surprised hunter into his arms with
unconcealed joy.
"Uh, Herc?" Iolaus muttered sleepily into Hercules' shoulder.
Reluctantly, the demigod lay Iolaus back onto his bedroll.
"Go on back to sleep, Iolaus. I'm going for a walk." Iolaus nodded,
laid his head down and was asleep again in moments. Seeing that,
Hercules stood up quietly and left the camp.