AN: Some Hercules POV.
Chapter 2
Hercules couldn't help feeling threatened by the darkness. The torch Ariadne carried didn't penetrate far into the secret passage and Hercules kept thinking there could be anything in here. Snakes, spiders, skeletons, assassins, there was no limit to what his mind could conjure. He trusted Ariadne not to lead them into a death trap but the passage did not seem well used and he wondered when it was last surveyed, if anyone had thought to deem it safe.
The tunnel was long, and the blackness made their progress slow. Hercules was carrying the weight of two and when they finally reached the end, the muscles in his arms burned. Jason had become heavier and heavier as they progressed, bearing less and less of his weight until finally he passed out, and it made him unwieldy, inelegant, as he bounced against Hercules hip, his feet dragging the earth, marking their path behind.
"Be careful opening the door," Hercules cautioned the queen. "Let Pythagoras go out first."
Pythagoras gave him a withering look. "Thanks."
"Well of course you have to go out first," Hercules griped. "You can't have the queen lead the way."
Ariadne unlocked the door and stepped back to allow Pythagoras in front of her. Pythagoras raised the shield to his chin and slipped through the entry quickly, pulling it closed behind him.
The young woman looked in despair at Jason, awkwardly limp in Hercules hold. She rested the sword in her hand against the wall and ran her fingers through the dark curls. "I'm worried for him."
"I am too," Hercules admitted. It was hard not to be worried when Jason was covered in blood, leaving a trail of it in their wake. He wondered if perhaps they should leave Jason behind, take him to the Oracle and let her tend to him. He wasn't concerned so much about Jason slowing their progress, he was concerned about him dying from lack of attention. It was an alarming amount of blood he'd lost and it urgently needed to be addressed.
Pythagoras had examined the wound briefly, after Jason passed out and couldn't complain, but there wasn't much that could be done in a tunnel. He had taken off his vest and pressed it hard against the wound, held it there for minutes until he was satisfied that the flow of blood had stopped, wrapped and tied the garment around the shoulder as tightly as he could, and then there was nothing they could do but continue.
"Jason," the queen called quietly, peering closely at his face for a response. "Jason!" But there wasn't even a flicker from the injured man and Ariadne bit her lip unhappily.
"All clear," Pythagoras informed in a loud whisper.
Hercules renewed his grasp on his unconscious friend and followed Ariadne through the door, to discover they were in the temple, in an open passageway beside the central expanse. Huge columns surrounded them, giant bronzed bulls faced away, large braziers were afire, and the door this end was concealed in deep shadow, impossible to find if you didn't know it was there. Ariadne threw the blazing torch she was holding into a brazier so that the light didn't draw attention to them.
They surveyed the area from behind a pillar, making sure there was nothing threatening in the vicinity and discovered The Oracle was striding toward them, apparently aware of their entrance, looking anxiously over her shoulder, no-one else visible in the building. As the seer drew close her eyes went soft and misty at the sight of Jason slumped against Hercules, her head tilted to the side in dismay.
"Oh Jason," she sighed, dipping a little to look into his face, her patterned hand cupping his cheek gently.
"Perhaps he should stay with you," Hercules suggested, and didn't look at the queen in case there was disagreement on her face.
"Unfortunately he cannot," the Oracle replied. "Pasiphae would kill him as surely as she would kill the queen if she found hm."
"Pasiphae?" Hercules echoed in alarm.
The seer nodded solemnly. "She has stolen into the city. She couldn't take Atlantis by force so now she is taking it by stealth. Her men are already in the palace grounds. You must leave before they search the temple."
"How did they get in?" Hercules asked in confusion.
"Through the tunnels," the woman replied. "Pasiphae knows all the city's secrets."
Hercules blinked in surprise. He had been in the tunnels under the city, they were disgusting, fetid and foul, he would not have believed Pasiphae would stoop to it, her dignity and pride must have suffered greatly in taking that route. But at the same time, it proved her determination that she would endure it.
"Pasiphae wouldn't kill Jason," Hercules said meaningfully. They both knew that Jason was Pasiphae's son, but he couldn't out and say it because neither Jason nor Ariadne were aware, and he had been sworn to secrecy.
"She might," the Oracle replied, just as meaningfully. "Jason would stand between her and the throne. She will not allow it."
Hercules was stunned, his mouth opened to argue the point but it was difficult to do without revealing the relationship. The seer had to be wrong. No woman would kill her own son, it would be inhuman, even Pasiphae wasn't such a monster.
"Lay him down," the Oracle urged, "and I will do for him what I can."
Hercules carefully lowered his friend to the floor and the seer knelt beside him, glancing around furtively like she expected men to burst into the temple at any moment. Nimble fingers removed the vest Pythagoras had wrapped around Jason's shoulder and then she removed the sodden and torn shirt leaving him bare chested.
With the wound fully exposed, Ariadne brought a hand to her mouth and turned her head away, and Hercules felt a bit squeamish. It was a gaping injury, deep and ugly, too much of what lay under the skin was visible. Hercules suspected the knife might have penetrated all the way through to other side and the thought made him squirm. He met Pythagoras' look of anguish, and moved toward Ariadne, put an arm around her shoulder, without regard for whether it was appropriate or what she wanted because he really needed some comfort. The queen took no offence at the presumptive contact, she buried her head in his chest and her shoulders shook as she cried quietly, but it only lasted a moment before it subsided into deep breathing as she tried stay in control.
The Oracle had a large pouch slung across her shoulder and she reached into it, producing a folded cloth, a rolled bandage and a bundle of fresh herbs tied together. She knew this was going to happen, Hercules thought. She was too well prepared for it to be a surprise. And he felt a buzz of irritation that she was prepared after the fact and not before, she might have warned them.
"I will need your help," she said to Pythagoras, and the mathematician disarmed himself hurriedly, placed the sword and shield he was carrying on the ground with a clatter, then moved to the other side of Jason, knelt across from her.
The cloth and bandage were handed to Pythagoras with the instruction, "When I have packed the wound with herbs, tie it tightly."
Pythagoras nodded.
The seer closed her eyes and crushed the herbs between her hands, chanting quietly as she did so, too low for Hercules to hear the words. The herbs bore a fragrant smell, even from a few paces away they tickled Hercules nose, reminding him of the street market, making him a bit hungry. The Oracle opened her eyes and pressed the crushed herbs onto the injured shoulder, still chanting. She drew back and inclined her head to Pythagoras, but didn't interrupt her recitation, and the blond man deftly dressed the wound, placing the cloth over the gash and winding the bandage high around Jason's chest, to keep the herb mix in place and the injury tightly bound.
When Pythagoras was done the seer finished her chanting and gave the mathematician a small appreciative smile, which he returned. He gained his feet, moved out of the way, and armed himself with the sword and shield once more.
The woman reached into her pouch and produced a small vial, pulled the stopper and waved it under Jason's nose. His head jerked away as he inhaled a sharp breath, his eyelids fluttered on a cough and a groan.
"Where am I?" he croaked, looking around blearily.
"In the temple," the oracle returned in her gentle voice, reaching inside her pouch to produce another vial. "Drink this," she instructed, bringing the small bottle to Jason's lips, the other hand raising his head, giving him no opportunity to deny her request.
The liquid made Jason wince as he drank. "What is it?"
"It will help with the pain," she replied.
His eyes widened as he suddenly remembered the night's events and he looked around wildly. "Where's Ariadne?" He jammed his elbows beneath him, intending to rise, and cried out at the burst of agony, collapsing back to the ground.
Ariadne hurried into his line of sight and crouched beside him. "I'm here."
Jason's face wrinkled in dismay. "Why are you still in the city? You need to leave."
"We will Jason," she placated. "We are leaving now."
"Go without me," he urged with desperate eyes. "I'll catch up later."
Ariadne pressed her lips together reproachfully. "We won't leave without you."
"It's not me they want," he exclaimed. "Something is happening in the palace, there is a plot against you and you need to get away. Hercules and Pythagoras will protect you. Go with them."
Ariadne shifted her attention to the oracle. "Can we move him?"
The woman expelled a rueful breath. "I don't think you have a choice."
Jason wrapped his fingers around Ariadne's wrist and stared at her plaintively. "Don't be stupid about this. Just go."
"Do you honestly believe I would leave you now?" she bristled, pinning him with a steely glare.
"Don't – Don't make this - You should – I mean respectfully -" he blinked long in sufferance. "It's hard to argue with a queen."
"Impossible," she returned humorlessly and flicked her gaze to Hercules. "Would you mind?" she said, motioning with a tip of her head for him to pick up Jason.
"Be gentle," she added, as the big man crouched behind the injured man and slid hands underneath him. Hercules frowned in passing offense at the warning, it went without saying that he would be gentle.
Jason groaned as he was raised to a sitting position, his head dropped to his chest and his hand automatically pressed against his sore shoulder, trying to brace it, minimize the movement and Hercules winced in sympathy.
"You ready?" Hercules asked, as he wound his arms around Jason's torso, preparing to lift him to a stand.
"Yeah," Jason sighed unenthusiastically and Hercules raised him to his feet as smoothly as he could, held onto him tightly as Jason groaned deeply and struggled to make his legs hold any weight, his knees buckling and uncooperative.
"This is pathetic," Jason muttered under his breath. "You really should leave me."
Hercules didn't dignify it with a response. He balanced Jason's body against him and ducked his head under Jason's right arm, once again in the familiar hold that would allow him to carry his friend. It felt strange with his hand against skin at Jason's stomach, he felt the need to be more delicate, worried his rough fingers might hurt.
"There is another way out of the temple," the Oracle advised, gaze darting around nervously, clearly keen for the group to make their escape. "Pasiphae's men will be in the square by now."
"Pasiphae," Jason breathed, regarding the seer soberly, and Hercules realized he'd missed the exposition.
"I'll explain later," Hercules said, "but long story short, Pasiphae has taken over the palace."
Jason's expression hardened and his eyes sought out Ariadne's. The Queen met his gaze and nodded lightly. "It is always Pasiphae," she commented through tight lips.
"Where is my sword?" Jason asked, his left hand patting clumsily at his hip, and it was no coincidence that talk of Pasiphae had Jason reaching for his weapon. A familiar weight blanketed Hercules, the heavy secret he had borne for months, that Pasiphae was Jason's mother, pricked at his conscience. Someone should tell him, he thought. Jason should know. But as always, he kept his tongue quiet.
Pythagoras handed Jason's sword to Hercules, who slotted it into the sheath at Jason's hip, and in turn, Ariadne handed the sword they had taken from the dead guard to Pythagoras, relieved to be free of it.
"This way," the Oracle prompted, and led them down stairs that Hercules had never noticed before, through an unobtrusive hole in the floor behind a pillar, not easily seen from the nave. It took them into a large crypt and the lack of light made it difficult to pass through. Even with eyes adjusted to dark it was mostly black around them, they had to fumble their way around hidden objects, and for the second time that night Hercules thought, there could be anything in here. He tried not to find any omen in being surrounded by death, stone coffins littered the room, the smell of mold and dank offended his nostrils.
"This is cheerful," Hercules commented.
"It is indicative of the evening," Pythagoras returned, a voice in the dark.
"The exit is to the left," the Oracle advised. "Make your way toward that wall."
Jason was becoming more capable as they progressed, his steps more assured, less reliant on Hercules to keep him upright. Whatever the Oracle had given him was having a marked effect and Hercules was delighted because he was already feeling the strain of carrying him, he would have been crippled by the time they reached the forest.
A gust of fresh air blew through the room and Hercules breathed it in gratefully. Jason unwound his arm from around Hercules' neck and the big man watched him closely for a moment, wary of him faltering, but he appeared steady as he moved toward the breach in the wall, the moon and stars lighting his way, and Hercules followed after him.
As Pythagoras was about to pass through the opening the Oracle said, "Take this," and removed the pouch she had slung over her shoulder, placing it over the blond head. "You may need it later."
Pythagoras darted eyes to Jason. "I hope not."
"Thank you," Ariadne offered the seer as she exited, emotion in her voice. "I am so grateful."
The Oracle gave her a warm smile. "Be safe. May the Gods be with you."
As the opening to the temple closed behind them, the group found themselves in a deserted alleyway. Hercules peered left and right getting his bearings, and in his mind tried to picture the position of the temple relative to the nearest tavern so that he could figure out where they were, nodding his head as it snapped in place.
"How do we make our escape from the city?" Pythagoras asked. "Given that we can't sneak out through the tunnels and will have to leave by one of the gates."
"Why- Why can't we use the tunnels?" Jason asked in confusion.
"Because Pasiphae is using them," Hercules returned.
Ariadne piped up. "We should assume that Pasiphae already has men at the gates."
"Yes, we should," Pythagoras agreed.
There was silence among them, each lost in thoughts of escape. Finally Hercules said, "Look, I'm going to make a suggestion that may not be popular. I think we should spend the night in the city, and try to make our escape tomorrow."
Pythagoras shook his head slowly, lips pursed. "I think it would be dangerous to linger. It will give Pasiphae an opportunity to strengthen her grip on the city. It will be harder to leave tomorrow than it will be tonight."
"But look at us," Hercules persisted. "Jason is shirtless, I'm covered in blood, the queen… looks like the queen. I believe we should take a night to think things through and better prepare ourselves."
"If we take a night we may find ourselves stuck in the city, unable to get out. And Jason is moving freely thanks to the oracle's tincture, he may not be so well tomorrow." The mathematician exhaled and ran a hand through his hair. "Your Majesty, what are your thoughts?"
Ariadne was pensive. "You are both right. Pasiphae's men will be especially wary tonight, expecting me to escape the city, and we are very noticeable. But the longer we leave it, the more of Pasiphae's men will flood the streets, and very quickly it will become impossible to escape. Jason, what do you suggest?"
The queen turned enquiring eyes to the injured man and he seemed oblivious to the attention. "Jason?" she prompted, creasing her brow.
"Oh- um- what?" Jason regarded her blankly and his eyes glittered in the moonlight, glazed and bright. "I- I-" He blew out a breath. "I'll be honest, I- um," he squinted in concentration, "I can barely finish a – uh – a- a thought right now. Um. But on the plus side – uh- I am feeling no pain."
A lop-sided smile made Hercules heart sink. His lips parted as he gaped at Pythagoras in despair. It seemed short sighted of the Oracle to alleviate Jason's pain at the expense of his brain. Not that he begrudged his friend some relief, it was nice for him, but Jason was the tactical one, they needed his considered opinion.
Pythagoras pressed a hand into the small of Hercules back and moved him away a few steps, out of earshot of the others. Under his breath he said, "Perhaps you are right. I don't know how far we can get with Jason like this. I can stay with him in the city if you want to escape with the queen."
"No," Ariadne interjected in a fierce whisper, the men unaware that she had followed. "We stay together."
"Your majesty," Pythagoras dipped his head respectfully, but the twist of his mouth telegraphed his disagreement. "The considerations for you and Jason are different. I am worried for your safety. I am worried for his health. I don't know that staying together is the best option."
"I will not leave Jason behind," Ariadne insisted. "We all stay together, I will not hear otherwise."
Pythagoras' lips turned down unhappily and he glanced at Hercules. "Then I suppose we must stay in the city tonight. Jason will be furious when his senses return."
Further argument was halted at the sound of a crash behind them. Hercules whipped his head around to find a soldier lying on the ground next to Jason, and watched as his friend plunged his sword ferociously into the man's throat. It happened so fast. Hercules blinked, frozen for a moment, unable to believe that they hadn't heard the soldier approach. He fervently hoped the man was Colchean, that Jason hadn't unwittingly killed one of the Atlantis guard, they could use an ally right now and it was difficult to tell a soldier's allegiance in the dark.
Jason tugged the sword free of the dying man, staggered a few steps to a nearby wall and slid heavily to a sit.
Hercules breath caught in his throat, worried that Jason had suffered a fresh injury, and Pythagoras bounded to their friend's side with Ariadne trailing behind. The big man moved instead to the felled soldier, to make sure he was no longer a threat and could tell by the curve of his shield, the shape of his helmet, that he was Colchean. It amazed him that Jason had the wherewithal and strength to recognize the threat and overpower the enemy soldier, his instincts and ability were remarkable.
Assured that the man posed no further danger, Hercules took the few quick steps to the group and crouched beside Pythagoras. "Is he alright?" Hercules asked.
"The spirit is willing…" Jason replied, then knitted his brow. Hercules frowned, unsure what he meant by it.
"He is no worse than he was before," Pythagoras offered.
"Take his – get his – you know-" Jason fluttered his hand up and down his chest, a gesture that was difficult to decipher.
"Armour?" Hercules finished dubiously.
"Yes," Jason said emphatically. "Armour," he repeated under his breath, as if to remember it for next time, and it made Hercules heart sting witnessing his struggle.
"Why do you want his armour?" Hercules queried, reluctant to spend the time it would take to de-clothe the man, and not sure they should be taking suggestions from Jason.
"Options," Jason replied simply.
Hercules looked questioningly at Pythagoras. "We might be able to use it to escape the city," the mathematician mused. "Couldn't hurt to have it."
If they were going to take the armour then they needed to take all of it, top to toe, because being decked out in anything less would be suspicious. As they pulled the leather off the still warm body, Hercules became increasingly uneasy about being found by another enemy guard. Where there was one there were bound to be more.
Ariadne sat beside Jason, holding his hand, watching the men unclothe the enemy.
"We're wasting time," Hercules muttered to Pythagoras.
"We are planning ahead," Pythagoras disagreed.
"Soon the city will be crawling with Colcheans and we should be making our way to safety, not dawdling in the streets."
The mathematician sighed. "We may be grateful for this armor tomorrow. I really don't know how we are going to find our way out of the city."
As they tugged the last of the dead man's protective gear from his body, Ariadne crouched at Hercules shoulder and said quietly, "I don't think Jason is well."
"He has a hole in his chest," the big man returned drolly. "Is he worse than that?"
"He is shaking," she said, brows drawn together in worry. "He is shaking quite badly, and it doesn't seem to be subsiding."
Hercules and Pythagoras exchanged a wordless glance before the mathematician rose and hastened over to their stricken friend. The night was starting to seem endless to Hercules, lurching from one problem to the next, he felt put upon and resentful and sent a silent prayer to the Gods to give them a break.
He gathered the leather and metal armour into a pile and didn't look toward Jason, didn't want to be diverted while he considered where to dump the guard's scantily clad body. His eyes alighted on a cart in the gloom nearby and he figured that was good enough, if he put the body in the cart it wouldn't be immediately apparent to any soldier who might patrol the area. With arms under the dead man's shoulders he dragged the body and dumped it unceremoniously into the cart, his eyes darting right and left to make sure there was no one in the vicinity to witness the deed.
Pythagoras approached as he walked back to the group. "Jason is not very well," the blond man advised somberly. "I think sleep might help. Any ideas for where we could go? We can't stay in the street."
"Actually I've been thinking about that," Hercules returned. "I have a friend who is visiting his daughter in Athens, his house will be vacant, we can hideout there. If I can just remember which is his house."
"What friend?" Pythagoras returned suspiciously. "I thought I knew all your friends."
"Darrick. Big guy. Meaty arms. You've met him."
"When did I meet him?"
Hercules returned impatiently, "Does it really matter? Let's get moving before another of Pasiphae's men stumbles across us."
Hercules strode over to where Jason sat. "Okay muscles, can you stand?"
With concerning sluggishness Jason raised his eyes, tilted his head back to find Hercules face. He struck out a clumsy hand, grasping at the wall. "The spirit is willing," he muttered earnestly, and it chilled Hercules to hear him repeat nonsense. "But the- the- flesh- the flesh-."
"Yeah okay," Hercules cut in, winding an arm around Jason's midriff and hauling him to his feet. The injured man wobbled drunkenly in Hercules arms, taking a moment for his legs to firm underneath him.
Jason didn't grimace or show any evidence of being in pain but he sagged like he was exhausted, his head hung low, and he shivered like he was freezing, which wasn't right, the night wasn't cold, and Hercules didn't want to consider what it meant, that was a worry for Pythagoras.
Ariadne cast wide mournful eyes at her stricken beloved.
"I hate to ask this of you," Hercules addressed the queen, "but would you mind carrying the armour we just stole."
"Yes, of course," she answered, and went to retrieve it.
"Perhaps you could swap out the shield," Hercules said to Pythagoras. "I don't think we need two of them." Pythagoras nodded and followed after Ariadne.
"I miss music," Jason sighed, and Hercules looked at him sharply, wondering what on earth would prompt a comment about music right now. "There used to be so- so much of it- so much of it. And now there's nothing. And I try to- to play it in my head, but it's getting harder."
Hercules stared at him for a long moment, mutely dismayed, no idea what he was talking about or why he was bringing it up. Jason was speaking so seriously, like it was a reasonable conversation, and it troubled Hercules, caused a tight squeeze in his chest, that his friend was sliding around mentally, no longer on solid ground. Injury for Jason in the past had followed a fairly predictable course – get hurt, pass out, recover quickly – it had never involved a mental component. Presumably it was the oracle's potion causing the deviation from the norm, he hoped that's what it was, and it was an unwelcome side effect.
The queen struggled to hold the armour comfortably but made no complaint as she moved to Hercules side.
"I believe we are ready to continue," Pythagoras announced. "Where is this house we are aiming for?"
"You know where the Goat Side tavern is?" Hercules returned.
The mathematician frowned. "They all look the same to me. Which one is that?"
"It's the one…" Hercules struggled to describe it because they did all look the same. "Near the east wall, about two streets back. With Franco. You know, Franco."
"How would I know Franco?" Pythagoras replied evenly.
"Could you make an effort?" Hercules griped with diminishing patience. "Darrick's house is near Goat Side. If you can get us to the tavern, I can find Darrick's house."
"East wall," Pythagoras confirmed. "Right."
"Keep your guard up," Hercules warned. "You will be eyes for all of us, so keep us safe."
Pythagoras swallowed. "Right," he repeated with less confidence.
The group made their way furtively through the city, Pythagoras a few steps in front, all staying hidden in the shadows. The streets were mostly empty, but every so often the mathematician would raise his hand to indicate someone nearby and they would press themselves into a dark corner and hold their breath waiting for the person to pass.
Jason was a problem. He would not stop talking. He had lost his grasp on what was going on around him, the gravity of the situation. With his young friend's arm slung around his neck, more to keep him moving than because he was incapable, Hercules had never heard Jason ramble so much. It wasn't loud, a low murmur, mostly talking to himself, but it was bizarrely out of character. Ordinarily Jason wouldn't say more than two words, the silent brooding type, but tonight he was blurting everything that came into his head. It was random and confused and repetitive and so distracting. Hercules swung between trying to follow what he was saying and trying to ignore it, most of it made no sense.
A few times Hercules clapped a hand over his friend's mouth to muffle the noise, shushed him fiercely, and Jason would quiet for a few minutes and almost appear to be aware of their situation, but then a misdirected thought would tumble from his lips and inspire a rush of disordered soliloquies. On any other occasion it might have been funny but on this occasion it was inconvenient and sharply peculiar. It was complicated by Jason's mind still being partially present, he could answer a question or respond to a comment but there was an odd disconnect about where he thought he was and what he thought they were doing- he had no idea. It was unsettling.
As they neared their destination Jason stopped talking, and it bothered Hercules in the same way as the too much talking had. He slid eyes to him. "You still with me?"
There was a long pause before Jason answered. "Yeah."
"You run out of weird and inappropriate things to say?"
Another long pause. "Am I dying?"
"Ah, there we go," Hercules said lightly, and twisted his head to see where Ariadne was, hoping she hadn't heard the question. His stomach flipped painfully, because maybe, maybe Jason was dying, a lesser man probably would be, there was a great bloody hole in his chest. He didn't want to entertain the possibility.
"You're walking around," Hercules pointed out. "Why would you think you're dying?"
"I don't know," Jason mumbled. "I can't tell anymore.
And suddenly he collapsed. It was so abrupt, from capable to unconscious, that Hercules wasn't prepared for it, for the heavy pull on him as Jason's legs folded, his body pitched forward, and the big man stumbled a few steps with the unexpected shift in weight. He cursed under his breath as he tried to regain his balance, and in the end slung Jason over his shoulder, offering him a silent apology for doing so in front of Ariadne because it wasn't a dignified way to be carried.
Impatience gripped him. Pythagoras was leading them too cautiously, and although he could see the merit in the vigilance, he'd had enough of it. They needed to lay Jason down, let him rest, and brainstorm a plan to get the queen out of the city, it was enough of roaming the streets. He picked up his pace, strode past Pythagoras and ignored the questioning bewilderment in the blue eyes as he passed.
The streetscape looked vaguely familiar. Goat Side wasn't a tavern that he frequented often, too far from their house, but he'd been there more than a handful of times and he ranged his eyes left and right, looking for the red door that marked its entry. It was close, he knew, but the alley looked much different in the day, street stalls would have guided him, or likely looking patrons. He took a chance on turning right, starting to feel directionally challenged, and let out a quiet triumphant cry when the door came into view. Darrick's house was two doors away, but was it south or north? He made an educated guess and banged on the entry, just to be sure no-one was inside and finally felt like the Gods were smiling on them when the knock went unanswered.
AN: Can I just say how much I love the idea of Jason rambling. The things that could come out of his mouth, it's a potential gold mine. If anyone knows of a rambling fic, or feels minded to write one, could you please let me know because I would love to read it.