Title: "After Ecbatana"

Author: Baliansword

Chapter: 2, "The Balcony"

A/N: To all, I own nothing here. Would like to, so if you know the owner of the deed, let me know. But can you buy from history?

Hephaestion felt the fire in his throat before he awoke it seemed. As his eyes slowly opened he felt the weakness in his body. Never before had he recalled feeling so terrible. As he shifted his eyes, he saw Alexander, asleep in his chair. For days now Alexander had not left, merely stayed in the room, waiting for Hephaestion to recover.

Silence lingered in the room. For some time now Hephaestion had not minded this. The throbbing in his head came only when it became loud, usually from voices outside, or mainly from Alexander yelling at servants. Yelling at physicians was when he was loudest. However the room now felt too big for him, the world too big.

Hephaestion raised a hand, which pained him, such a simple gesture. He touched his bottom lip only to feel the cracking skin. When he removed his hand, and ran his tongue over his lip, he tasted salty blood. In forgetfulness he closed his eyes, and sighed loudly. It was loud enough to awaken Alexander though.

"Phae," Alexander said as he sat up quickly and leaned closer to the bed. The worry was clearly visible in his eyes, and on his face, as it had been for days. If Hephaestion breathed deeply the king would worry. It was all he could do, because he could not cure him, try as he might. "What is it, are you alright? Is something the matter?"

"I am fine," Hephaestion said. It was somewhat a lie. He felt terrible, and he knew that he looked it, but he had felt the same for days. So perhaps he was fine, yet fine meant something other than well. "I did not mean to wake you."

"Its fine," Alexander immediately said. "The sound of your voice pleases me. Have you been up long? I did not realize that I had fallen asleep."

Hephaestion was not listening truly though. He was recalling what Alexander had said earlier. Another one of his long speeches, about loving him, and only him was what he had been saying. The commander thought of this for a moment, when the sunlight caught his attention.

"Alexander," he whispered in a hushed tone, hushed from his throat, for he could barely speak. He wondered if he was as raspy as he himself thought he sounded. He had been drinking nothing but water, yet his voice was still terrible, his throat constricted from its dryness.

"What can I do for you, my love," Alexander asked anxiously.

"I want out of bed," Hephaestion said. This was not the first time he had requested such. He had done so on many occasions. He never truly felt like moving around, but knew that he needed to, for his soul seemed even now to be restless. Lying around for no reason was never a talent of his, neither was having no purpose.

"Phae," Alexander said quietly. "You know that you are too ill to get out of bed. A few more days, and then you will be getting your strength. Any day now you will be able to get out of bed, and we will do as you like, but not now."

Hephaestion let out a small breath of annoyance and sunk his head further into the pillow. It was not Alexander's fault that he was sick. Nor was it his really, well, perhaps a little. If he had not fallen in love with Alexander, become his favorite man of all, perhaps he would not be hated. Death would have been a bad enough punishment, for it meant separation from Alexander, yet being confined to bed was too much.

"Aristotle used to teach us many things," Hephaestion said suddenly, seemingly in a mist, recalling their childhood. "He taught us of the world, of the men of the lands, and of philosophy. Do you know what I wish I could have been in life Alexander?"

"If you were not this you mean?"

"A philosopher," he said without taking in Alexander's comment. "I wish that I could be able to know what Aristotle does. He knows the secrets of life I imagine. As a philosopher I would say this, 'A man that dies happy, does not suffer the death of a man that dies without.'"

Alexander knew what this meant. How could he not know such a thing? Hephaestion had always been stubborn, but this, this was something else. Yet Alexander found himself rising and pulling the sheets away from Hephaestion. He then leaned down, wrapping an arm around Hephaestion's shoulder, the other around his waist. He helped him up, being very careful, for in his weakened state even a fall would likely injure Hephaestion beyond compare.

Hephaestion was shaky on his legs, even leaning against Alexander. However, he refused to sit back down. Instead he wobbled for a minute, and tried to find his balance. Upon finding it the best he could he glanced at Alexander. Alexander knew better than to try to help him. The last time he had he was scolded for it. But the pain was written on his face. He was close enough to help, yet at the same time, he was so far away.

"The balcony," Hephaestion said quietly, thinking that perhaps that would be as far as he would make it. Even now, standing was a feat. Alexander helped him along as he was told though. Before they stepped over the threshold Hephaestion was breathing hard, exhausted from his stubborn attempt to be well.

"Ecbatana," Alexander introduced as they came to the ledge. He let Hephaestion grip the ledge and support himself but was still not far away. If anything should happen he would not be far away at all. "Its not Babylon, nor is it Macedonia, but it is still beautiful."

Hephaestion felt the warmth of the sun on his aching body. It felt as if the warmth brought him some relief. However, it was looking out at the world again that really joyed him. This was the world, Alexander's world, and his world. It could not be taken from him unless the gods willed it. Upon thinking this he coughed deep in his throat.

"Hephaestion," Alexander said soothingly, "perhaps this is enough for today. Is there any way to get you back in bed?"

"No," Hephaestion replied. "I just want to see again, before…"

He himself could not bring himself to say these last words. If he were dying, he would not want to admit it. Perhaps the physicians were right, those that thought he would recover, but he knew the way of illness. It was far more likely that he would not be well. Very soon he would likely meet Patroclaus and Achilles with Hades in the Underworld.

"Alexander," Hephaestion interrupted the silence, "tell me of Arabia. What is it that you plan to do there?"

"We," Alexander corrected again. There was then a pause. "Arabia is no different from any other land that we conquer Phae. Arabia, now, has no purpose. We must unite them Hephaestion. We must unite Arabia with Babylon, as we did Babylon to Macedonia and Greece. If there is one land, one ruler, then all shall be equal. There will be no wars. The world shall be a better place, we will free the people of the world, and things will be as the gods desire."

"Spoken like a king, and the son of a god."

"You knew my father as well as I," Alexander laughed quietly. "Arabia does not matter at the moment though. What matters is your health. I will not go without you Hephaestion."

Hephaestion turned his head, and stared into Alexander's loving eyes. There was nothing in the world for him without Alexander, much like without him, there was nothing in the world for Alexander. Just as Alexander reached out, putting his palm on Hephaestion's cheek, Hephaestion suddenly felt cold. He blinked, and with that, the world around him stopped.

The next thing he saw was Alexander's face, directly over his, yet spinning it seemed as if there were two of him or there were an earthquake. Hephaestion felt weak as he had before yet now his head throbbed. He then heard Alexander screaming. At first he knew not what Alexander was saying, he couldn't make out the words, but as the ringing in his ears began to quiet down he could make out what the king was screaming about.

"Get the physicians," Alexander screamed to a page that was now running out the door. Hephaestion watched Bagoas follow the boy. "Hurry! Physicians!"

Hephaestion moved his head, turned his chin, so that he could better see Alexander. Immediately Alexander looked down at him and held his face in his hands all the more tightly. A mixture of rage and terror filled his expression and he knelt down closer to Hephaestion. He kissed Hephaestion's forehead and mumbled something that Hephaestion could not hear.

"Alexander," Hephaestion said, his voice shaking, "what's going on."

He realized now that he was no longer on the balcony. He was back in the darker rooms of the palace. He lay on the soft bed, with Alexander next to him, and he could hear the scrambling of people outside of the room. Zeus be cursed his head hurt terribly.

"Oh Hephaestion," Alexander said as he pressed Hephaestion's cheek to his chest. He could do nothing but kiss the top of his head. He was slowly rocking, and Hephaestion did not mind, but it was making him the slightest bit nauseous. "Why do you have to be so stubborn?"

"I'm fine," Hephaestion argued quietly. He noted that his hands were trembling, that he felt cool and damp. He reached up and touched his neck. Yes, he was wet, water mixed with sweat from his sickness covered his upper half. One moment he had been standing, and then, this. He could only assume that he had feinted.

The doors to the room were quickly opened and three physicians ran into the room. They were practically tripping on one another. Hephaestion tried to turn his head to see them as they approached, but Alexander held him still. The first physician carried a bandage, one a salve. What were they thinking?

"He hit the rail," Alexander explained as a physician poked and prodded at Hephaestion's forehead. Alexander was about to hyperventilate, Hephaestion realized, like when he had cut his leg at the battle of Issus. Hephaestion had joked with him, for it had after all not been the king's leg, but his. Yet Alexander had made up most of the pain in his own mind.

"I caught him," Alexander continued, "before he fell further. But I…I just couldn't stop him….before he, oh Apollo, he just hit the rail."

Hephaestion watched the physician draw back his hand. It was covered with blood. Of course, it was not enough blood to cause Hephaestion to panic, nor the physicians. Yet Alexander acted as if his head were about to be detached.

"I'm fine," Hephaestion responded. He definitely did not feel it though. He winced as a salve was put on his head. He then, drifted, back to the land of darkness. At least this time it wasn't so sudden, and it was more expected.