AN: Another one of the number request fics from a couple of weeks ago! This one was #342, requested by outerspace-iiinnerspace, and their request ended up being "My nightmares are usually about losing you." I hope you guys enjoy!
Disclaimer: I do not own Xena.
For reasons Gabrielle could never understand, whenever they were in a town together, Joxer always got drunk. And she meant always. While he could stay sober while on the road, keeping his mind and wits as sharp as possible (which was as sharp as a blanket, but at least he tried), Joxer, if there wasn't trouble, always found the nearest tavern and spent his weight in dinars on drink.
Sometimes it was fun. He could be a fun drunk, when life was grand and things had been going well. He actually had a great voice, and would often lead the bar in whatever drinking song he could think of. Sure, the words were slurred, and Gabrielle was pretty sure half of them were made up right on the spot, but it was fun to clap along and watch a room of people in various stages of intoxication try and keep up. Besides, while he would eventually get around to proclaiming his undying love to her, eventually his mind would drift back to Meg. Why he was so obsessed with her when he clearly loved Meg, Gabrielle could never be sure- Xena had once mused it was a sidekick fetish, a statement delivered with a smile and a wink before Gabrielle had smacked her for it- but listening to his drunken rambling of how amazing Meg was and how he couldn't wait to see her again always made putting up with his initial words worth it.
But other times? Other times it wasn't fun at all.
"Bu…but Garbrielle, what if I never become a…a…a, you know, a sword swinging person thingy? What if I never become anything?"
For the last three hours Joxer had been like this, bringing up worry after fear after concern, only to cycle back to earlier ones that Gabrielle had already addressed as if this was the first time he had said them. He had run into Jett a few days ago, and just like always, seeing his brother had sent him into a spiral. A spiral that was manageable while he was sober, but drunk?
Sad, drunk Joxer just made everyone as miserable as he was, and Gabrielle was regretting following after him.
Especially since Xena was no help at all. When Joxer had wandered off earlier to get a drink, Xena, instead of joining Gabrielle's protest, had just waved him off and told him they'd find him later.
As if she didn't care that Joxer was making a fool of himself. As if she didn't care that, within two hours of sitting down at that bar, he would be a slurring, sobbing mess. As if Xena just didn't care.
And yeah, it was Joxer, but it was Joxer. He was their friend, and part of Gabrielle couldn't help but judge Xena for her lack of caring.
Especially since Xena was just sitting there, nodding along with Joxer as he talked.
"Bu...but Gabrielle," Joxer slurred, rolling his head to the side, "you're not a fates, are you? So how can you knows? Yous can't, and I'm never gonna be nothin." He let his head fall to the table, a dull thunk as his forehead hit the wood. For a moment Gabrielle was worried- this was the longest Joxer had been silent since his first drink. He had started out casually enough, sharing the story of how they had saved Cleopatra from his murderous twin, much to the other tavern-goers amazement. But since then he had just sunk quicker than a stone, and now he said nothing.
Her fears were silenced when he started to snore, though she couldn't help but roll her eyes at him. It would be up to them to get him a room and get him up into it, if they didn't want him robbed while sleeping at the bar. And even with this being his own fault, she couldn't in good conscious just leave him.
At least Xena was finally responding. Joxer's silence had finally seemed to catch her attention, and she stretched as she stood, rolling her shoulders to work out the strange kinks that had appeared over the last few hours as she sat there, hunched over the bar nursing her own drink as she listened to Joxer ramble. Throwing a few dinars onto the counter, she just nodded in gratitude to the innkeep as he handed over two keys.
"Come on, Gabrielle," Xena said, handing the keys off before lifting Joxer into her arms, holding him as if he was a child, his head on her shoulder and his arm dangling. "Let's get him to bed."
"It's barely dark," Gabrielle grumbled, rolling her eyes at his antics. But still she gathered their things- knowing Xena, she wouldn't want to come back down, and while the tavern was in the nicer area of the town, Gabrielle didn't trust their stuff to still be there if they left it alone. By the time she had all of their bags gathered Xena was already halfway up the stairs, and Gabrielle, taking one last longing look around the room- if Xena wasn't going to be there, neither would she, but it would have been nice to hang and chat with some of the villagers for a while- scurried after her.
"Why does he always get like this," Gabrielle sighed as she opened the door to Joxer's room, stepping aside as Xena walked in and laid him carefully on the bed. Coming to her side, Gabrielle helped to strip him out of his boots and armor, leaving the man in just his shirt and pants. "He just doesn't even seem to realize what he's doing."
"Oh, Joxer knows exactly what he's doing," Xena said with a shrug, leading them out of his room and into their own, right across the hall. It was larger then Joxer's, with one larger bed waiting for them, and a small bath off to the side. Immediately, Gabrielle felt better about not staying in the main room, if a warm soak was in store for the future. Though Xena's next words put a pause on that. "He's dealing with his fears, just like we all do."
"His fears," Gabrielle asked, tilting her head to the side. Joxer had brought up his concerns alright, his fears of never being as good as his brother, his worries about his failing as a warrior, but these were things they had talked about multiple times before, all while he was sober. "Why would Joxer have to get drunk to talk about his fears? He never has before."
"The sober mind is less believing," Xena pointed out, settling herself onto the bed and kicking off her boots, her toes wiggling against the floor underneath. "You can see it in his eyes- whenever we've talked before, he doesn't really believe us. Thinks we're just telling him what he wants to hear."
"Which I guess is true, to a point," Gabrielle admitted. Placing their bags down by the door, she kicked off her own boots before coming to Xena's side and crawling onto the bed behind her. Reaching around, she began to undo the buckles and ties that kept Xena's armor on, placing the metal pieces off to the end of the bed to be cleaned later. "We do tell him what he needs to hear, though most of it is true. To a point."
"Exactly," Xena said, grabbing one of her pieces of armor, giving it a quick glance over, rubbing unhappily at a new knick it had obtained in their last battle. A knick Gabrielle was glad for- that sword had come far too close to hitting leather and the flesh that laid underneath, a lucky shot that might have actually spelt the end for Xena. But it was an almost lucky shot that missed, leaving nothing more than her armor harmed. "When he's sober," Xena said, putting the piece with the others, "he knows. Joxer might be dumb, but he's not a complete idiot. He knows when someone's being kind, for the most part. So his sober mind doesn't believe us. He might act like he takes our word to heart, but, well..." Xena let her words trail off, and nodded over to the other door.
"If he actually did, he wouldn't be passed out drunk, would he?"
Xena didn't need to respond- it was clear Gabrielle had gotten what she was saying, so she just nodded instead. "His drunk mind, on the other hand, can believe us. He might not remember you sitting with him and talking through his fears, but it'll have helped. At least as much as it can, anyway."
Pushing herself to her feet, Xena walked over to the door and poked her head out, catching a serving girl on her way by. Handing over a couple of coins, Xena smiled as she withdrew back into the room, untying and pulling off her leathers. Wearing just her under shift, she jerked her head back towards the door as she walked over to the bath, eyeing it critically. "I got us a bath. It should be here soon. Think this tub's big enough for both of us?"
"Only if we sit on top of each other," Gabrielle snorted, rolling her eyes. It would be a bit before the water was brought up, so she busied herself with setting their things in order. Organizing their bags, resettling the fresh food they had bought at the market earlier in the day, preparing for when they would have to leave, probably early the next morning. All while Xena cleaned her armor and sharpened her sword, polishing everything until it gleamed, dents and knicks and all.
"You've never had to get drunk to talk to me, right?"
"Have you ever seen me drunk, Gabrielle," Xena asked, almost playful in tone- a direct contrast to the serious expression of concentration on her face as she examined her sword, checking for any fatal flaws that might have developed in the blade. A contradiction Gabrielle was used to.
And she hadn't, no, Gabrielle had to admit to herself. She had seen Xena after a couple of cups of wine or mead or whatever drink was being offered, normally only when in the Amazon villages or when they were with close friends (Hercules, Iolaus, one of the others who could handle themselves), but Xena was quick to stop herself after a few, no matter their company or relative safety. She didn't trust anyone or anything enough to let her guard down too much, so drunk was not a state Gabrielle had seen her in.
Something Gabrielle couldn't help but be pleased with. It bothered her, the idea that Xena wouldn't be able to talk to her, would have to resort to drink to tell her the fears that haunted her, the nightmares that kept her awake. After everything they had been through, everything they had tried so hard to build, the idea that they couldn't be honest?
She was a hypocrite, with her own secret, but it wasn't one she held by choice. And it was the only one she wanted between them.
"You'd tell me, if you had some fear or worry? Wouldn't you, Xena?"
Her voice was unconsciously soft, an accident of speaking while her mind was still musing its way through her thoughts, but Xena still heard. Heard and turned to look at her, her head tilted to the side as she studied her. Glancing back down at the weapon she held in her hands, Xena returned it to its scabbard, done with examining it for the night. She put her armor off to the side too, settling it carefully onto the floor to ensure the metal wouldn't receive any more damage than it already had, before patting the side of the bed next to her. She held her arm out as an invitation, one Gabrielle quickly took her up on.
It was nice, curling into Xena's side, her head resting on her shoulder as Xena's arm wrapped around her, holding her close. Gabrielle closed her eyes as Xena's lips pressed against her forehead, almost losing herself in the warmth and comfort the embrace brought.
Only to pull back as Xena whispered her confession to her.
"The only nightmare I have these days is of losing you."
Gabrielle wanted to deny it. She wanted to say that would never happen, that she was safe so long as she was by her side, but the words stopped before they reached her lips. Because she wasn't. Just a few months ago, she had been tied to a cross, her legs about to break. Just a few months ago, she had found herself on that alter, and everything had changed. Just a few months ago, it had become so very clear now unsafe she really was.
How could she deny Xena's fears, tell her what she wanted to hear, when there was no truth in those words at all?
Instead she just lifted her head and sighed into the kiss when Xena complied, a simple, sweet peck that offered nothing to soothe Xena's fears, but did everything in reassuring her that, for this moment, she was here. Curling back into Xena's side, they stayed like that for a little while longer, until the serving girl knocked on their door, her and some of her coworkers carrying the buckets of steaming water that would serve as their bath.
And after that they bathed and joked and forgot their little conversation about fears, instead teasing each other about the future and the lighter bits of their past before turning in for the night, just holding each other as close as they could. In the morning they would make sure Joxer was alright, make sure he could function without them, and then they would be on their way.
They were still two weeks away from the centaur's village, and they had to make sure they made good time if they wanted to be there for the peace treaty signing.
