This is where we start getting into more of an M rating... so fair warning. Lots of angst ahead. Lots and lots of angst.

Also, please don't forget to head over to Inkitt and vote for Book One of "Legendary" in the Fanfiction writing contest!

Chapter One

Then - Iolaus

The pain in his chest forced him to open his eyes. He blinked, vision coming into focus, and glanced around in confusion, trying to figure out where he was. The air was stale and reeked of death. Everything was dark, but he had a strange sensation that even though he could barely make out his surroundings, he had somehow been here before.

He tried to sit up but it made the pain in his chest worse. He put his hand to it, and then it pulled back just as quickly. There was something wet and hot, making his vest stick to his skin. Blood? He gingerly touched his chest again and felt a gaping hole over his heart. Oh gods… this isn't happening.

With a wave of panic, he again tried to sit up, but this time he hit his head on solid rock. No, he thought desperately. No, this isn't real. It can't be real…

He knew where he was now. This was Sumeria, he was dead, and this was his tomb. But, I'm not dead, his mind insisted. I'm not dead, this is a mistake… He tried to push the lid off the tomb but it was too heavy, refusing to budge. His breath came in quicker gasps, making his chest cream in agony. He was trapped, he was trapped in here, they had left him in here. Hercules… where was Hercules? He wouldn't leave me in here…

He started thrashing, kicking, beating the lid in pure fear, screaming for someone to let him out, this wasn't right, he wasn't dead, this was all a mistake, he wasn't dead, oh gods please, no, no, no!

"No!" Iolaus cried out loud, sitting up in the hammock. He was so startled by the drastic change in scenery that he almost toppled out of it and onto the wooden floor of the ship below. He gripped the ropes on either side and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to get himself under control. Just a dream. You were dreaming. You're not in Sumeria. You're not dead. You're on a ship. It was the same mantra he'd had to repeat to himself every time he had woke for the last week. Persia. You're going to Persia, remember?

He jumped as someone placed a hand on his shoulder. "Hey, man…. You okay?" The brown eyes of Pax, one of the ship's deckhands, were looking him over in concern.

Iolaus swallowed and nodded stiffly. "Yep."

"You going to throw up again?"

I hope not. He didn't think he had anything else left in his stomach to throw up. "I don't think so."

Pax nodded and squeezed his shoulder gently. "Look, I know you got some problems, but… you're starting to freak the other guys out. They can hear you sometimes…" He trailed off, looking uncomfortable, not wanting to embarrass Iolaus any further.

"Sorry," Iolaus muttered, collapsing back into the hammock in a heap. He put an arm over his eyes to block out the sun that was creeping through the small cracks below deck. "What time is it?"

"Midday," Pax told him.

Shit. Iolaus lifted his arm just enough to give Pax an incredulous look. "How long was I asleep?"

The deckhand shrugged. "A while. What time did you take that apollinarix?"

Iolaus frowned, trying to force his foggy brain to start working. "Sometime in between the fifth or sixth mug of ale, I think." He caught Pax giving him a disapproving look. "What?"

"You need to be careful with that stuff. Too much of it will kill you."

"I'm aware of that. I've used it before. Medicinally," he added when Pax didn't look reassured.

"Look, you're a grown ass man, and I respect what you and Hercules do, and you've done more than your fair share of the work around here…"

"But?" Iolaus prompted, shortly. The sound of Hercules' name still shot little waves of grief and regret through him.

Pax sighed, shifting uncomfortably. "But you gotta get it together until we get to Persia. I thought maybe the apollinarix would help-"

"It didn't. Nothing does." Iolaus pushed the heels of his hands into his eyes and groaned in exhaustion. He had hoped to be off the ship by now. There were no merchant vessels going out Corinth to Thrace, so he'd just had to head straight for Persia, which was always touch and go, depending on whether or not the Greeks and the Persians were on good terms that month. Or that day. It saved Iolaus a lot of walking and caravan riding time, but he had wanted to travel alone for exactly this reason. Sailors were notoriously suspicious, and he knew that his night terrors were not doing anything to reassure the crew that having him on board was the best idea.

"You only got two more days," Pax told him, trying to sound encouraging. "We're making good time."

Iolaus rolled off the hammock and stumbled to standing. Pax tried to grab his arm but he waved him off. "I'll just… sleep in the hold until we get there, or something. I don't want to disturb anybody."

"The guys like you. They do," he added at Iolaus' dubious look. "You're game for a laugh and work hard, and they know who you are, what you do. Or… did do. Don't take it personally?"

Iolaus gave the younger man a reassuring pat on the back. "It's okay, Pax. Gimme a second and I'll be up top."

Pax nodded and skirted around Iolaus to head over to the stairs that lead above deck. Once he was gone, Iolaus had to lean against one of the walls to keep himself steady. Closing his eyes, he forced the wave of nausea back down and grimaced as it made his stomach cramp. The side effects of black henbane were well documented, and he'd seen enough wounded soldiers spend most of their waking hours puking their guts out in the nearest bush for days after being treated with it. He should have known better. Especially when he'd asked Pax how in the hell he'd gotten it.

"Stole it," Pax had told him, conspiratorially. "My girlfriend is a handmaiden at one of Apollo's temples. It can, uh… make things fun, you know?"

Iolaus knew. But he didn't want fun, he wanted to be unconscious. Just beautiful, black nothingness for a while. Opium wasn't going to cut it, and he was going to have to wait until Persia to get his hands on it anyway. So he'd thought, Why the hell not, and had gratefully accepted whatever Pax had on his person.

Iolaus snorted. Now here this kid was telling him to be careful when he used henbane to get high with his girlfriend before they had sex all over Apollo's temple floor. He'd experimented with drugs before when he was younger - back in the gangs and very briefly in his first stint to the East after Anya had died - but it was something he had never told anyone, not even Hercules. But using henbane was risky enough when you were treating someone for pain. He'd seen it almost kill men the demigod's size because they'd been dosed too much. What had he been thinking?

His insides twisted as another cramp came on and he doubled over, dry heaving. He could feel all of the ale he'd drowned himself in the night before threatening to come back up and he tried, again, to swallow it back down. It was bad enough he was screaming and waking everyone up in the middle of the night. He was not going to lose any more of his credibility by looking like he couldn't hold his alcohol.

Right. No more fucking around with henbane. Iolaus laughed bitterly to himself. He could only imagine what Hercules would do or say if he could see him now. The thought at how far gone he'd gotten in the last week, and what the demigod would say about it, made him want to throw up again. He was glad there were no reflective glasses on board save in the captain's quarters; he doubted that even he could stand the sight of himself right now.

Iolaus wondered, not for the first time, if he'd made the right decision. So far, leaving Greece hadn't done much in the way of helping him combat his dreams. In fact, they'd gotten worse, and he was so terrified that he would have another episode like he'd had at Jason's and accidentally throw himself overboard that he'd tried anything and everything to black out each night. The first few times that he'd woken up he couldn't remember where he was or how he'd gotten there, and had looked around expectantly for Hercules before his frightened mind calmed down enough to recognize the mess deck of the Revival. Once that passed he would feel shaky, sick, and alone. Hercules wasn't here; Iolaus had left him standing numbly in the front yard of his childhood home. Now he didn't even have his best friend to turn to, which ironically was what he thought he wanted – to be able to figure out what was happening to him, alone. And yet, the first person he looked for when he woke up was Hercules.

Iolaus took a gulp of air and forced himself to stand upright. It's habit, he told himself. It'll pass. Pax said two more days? I can make it two more days. He nodded forcefully to himself. Just get to the East. They'll help you. They have to.

He could hear the sounds of the men working above deck and inwardly groaned. He was going to have to go up there and get to work at some point. With some effort, he pushed himself off of the wall, clumsily shoved his feet into his boots, and trudged slowly across the room to the mess hall where he persuaded the cook to give him some ginger root to try and settle his stomach. He gnawed on it absently as he climbed the stairs to the main deck, the day's sun hitting him full blast and making him squeeze his eyes shut. Blinking, he used the railing to haul himself up the rest of the way. He could feel there was a good wind, so they probably were making decent time as Pax had said. It made him feel a little bit better knowing that the kid wasn't just giving him lip service.

He popped the last piece of ginger into his mouth and forced himself to chew, glancing around and locating Pax towards the stern, tying off the ropes to the aft sails. He caught Iolaus' eye and waved. Iolaus raised an eyebrow and attempted to wave back, making Pax laugh and shake his head at him before getting back to work. Iolaus gave a heavy sigh. This is going to be a really annoying day. He tried to ignore the disgruntled looks he was getting as he headed aft to join Pax. Iolaus didn't blame them. He'd be pissed too if he was giving someone a free ride and they thought they could sleep all day.

He'd barely made it two steps when a familiar voice rang out, "Iolaus!"

He winced and turned to slowly face the bridge where the captain was staring down at him, a grim look on his face. He crooked a finger at Iolaus, motioning him up to the ship's wheel. Great, Iolaus thought wearily, and made his way across the deck and up more stairs to stand next to the captain. "Epeius," he greeted him. He tried to sound pleasant but he wasn't sure he entirely succeeded.

Epeius gave Iolaus a once over before gesturing to the door behind them. "Step into my office."

Iolaus suddenly felt like he was back at the Academy, having been caught doing one of the many things he knew he wasn't supposed to do, and was now being hauled in to see Cheiron. His heart sped up nervously, and he almost laughed at how quickly those memories elicited the same response he'd gotten back then. But he merely gave Epeius a short nod and followed the captain into his quarters, shutting the door behind him.

The captain's quarters were modest, but they contained a cot, wash basin, reflective glass, and a small writing desk at which Epeius was now sitting behind. "Take a seat," he told Iolaus, gesturing at the stool that was placed in front of it.

Iolaus ran a hand through his hair and obliged. This was sounding an awful lot like what happened after he got into Cheiron's office, too. He made sure to avoid looking over at the mirror as he sat heavily onto the stool. "I know what you're going to say-"

"Do you?" Epeius asked, casually.

Iolaus blinked, not sure how to respond. "Uh… maybe?"

Epeius stared at him across the desk for a few seconds, making Iolaus swallow anxiously. "When I agreed to let you come on board, it was under explicit instructions that you earn your keep. Which you've done," he said, putting a hand up as Iolaus made to argue. "But… I need everyone at their best, Iolaus."

Unable to resist, Iolaus raised one shoulder in a shrug and asked, "Do I not look my best?"

Epeius let some of his annoyance cross his face. "Iolaus, I'm being serious."

"I know that. And… I'm sorry. I'm trying."

"Do you consider taking henbane while aboard my ship 'trying'?" Epeius asked, flatly. Before Iolaus could answer, the captain sighed and rubbed his hand across his face tiredly. "Look, Iolaus… you and Hercules have been a big help to me in the past, which is why I said you could hitch a ride as long as you worked, because I didn't think it was going to be an issue."

"It's not," Iolaus insisted. "I just needed something to try and sleep."

"Yes, I've heard." The captain let that hang in the air before asking, "Did Pax give it to you?" Iolaus immediately grew silent. "I thought so."

"He's a good kid," Iolaus told him quickly. "He was just trying to help. It's not going to happen again, I can promise you."

Epeius just stared at him some more, and Iolaus could tell he was trying his damnedest not to sound judgmental. "Like I was saying, I need everyone at their best. Everyone on point. I can't have a member of my crew stumbling around in a daze, because that's what you are until we make port in Persia, Iolaus. You're one of my men, and I care about my men."

"It's not going to happen again," Iolaus repeated forcefully.

"And I also can't have my crew pissing and moaning about how blondie gets to sleep in and do what he wants," Epeius added.

Iolaus fixed him with a hard look. "I said… it wasn't going to happen again."

Epeius grunted an acknowledgement but didn't seem entirely convinced. "Just answer me one thing, Iolaus." When the hunter gave him a short nod, he asked, bluntly, "Do you want to die? Is that why you're stuffing henbane and ale down your throat? Are you on some kind of suicide kick?"

Iolaus snorted and shook his head. "No," he said in wry amusement. "No, I don't want to die."

The captain nodded at him firmly. "Good. Because there's nothing more dangerous on a ship than a walking dead man."

The statement almost made Iolaus laugh out loud. Walking dead man… "I've been one of those before," he said, seriously. "And I don't want to do it again. So, stop worrying." The look Epeius was giving him clearly said the captain hadn't truly been worried, until now. Nice going. You really need to start keeping your morbid sense of humor to yourself, pal. "Seriously, don't worry. Learned my lesson. And I'm not trying to disrupt how you run your ship. I appreciate you helping me out. You know that, right?" He forced the words out, because he knew they were the right thing to say.

"Of course," Epeius said, evenly. "I wasn't… well, I wasn't in Greece, when all that crazy shit went down with…" He gestured wildly and Iolaus averted his gaze. "Yeah… So, I know this isn't you. Not the real you. I've seen you in action."

"I get it, Epeius."

The captain nodded again, shortly. "I just had to make sure." He waved at the washing bin and mirror. "Why don't you have a shave, get cleaned up…? Might make you feel better."

Iolaus scratched at his beard. "Is that a hint?"

Epeius shrugged. "Maybe," he said, getting up and heading back over to the door. "Do what you want. Come back out when you're done and see Cirio down in the hold."

Iolaus started, spinning on the stool to stare at the captain. "Cirio? What about Pax?"

"I think you two have spent enough time together," Epeius said, firmly.

Iolaus felt the sudden urge to yell that he didn't need to be treated like a child but bit his tongue, settling for a glare instead. He was getting a free ride, this was Epeius' ship, and he hadn't done much this morning in the way of convincing everyone that he was fit to work above deck. "Cirio. Hold. Got it."

The captain gave another curt nod and stepped out, leaving Iolaus alone. He clenched his fists in attempt to control his temper, the feel of his nails digging into his palms inducing enough pain to snap him out of it. He couldn't blame Epeius, but he could damn well blame himself. "I know this isn't you. Not the real you," Epeius had said. Iolaus snorted. You have no idea…

He ran a hand over his face, feeling the weeks' worth of hair and sighed, disgusted with himself. No, this wasn't him. None of it was. And he couldn't sit alone in the captain's quarters feeling sorry for himself. Being busy on the ship kept his mind off things. It was just at night, when he would lay there staring at the deck head, listening to the waves and the creaking of the ship as it made its way along, that the terrible thoughts would come. And then, if he'd managed to fretfully get to sleep, they'd follow him into his dreams.

Iolaus pushed the bench back and walked over to the washing bin, digging around in the small cupboard next to it for shaving supplies. When he finally glanced up at the reflective glass, he almost didn't recognize himself. He'd lost a lot of weight in a week, probably due to not being able to keep his stomach once the dreams woke him up. His hair was a disheveled mess, more so than usual, and he was pale and drawn. Walking dead man indeed.

He didn't know why he was taking Epeius up on his offer, but really didn't want to spend any more time with Cirio than he had to, and frankly, he couldn't think of anything else better to do. Maybe if he looked normal, he could at least attempt to act normal, for the time being anyway.

Iolaus found the flint razor and jar of whale fat, and poured a small amount of the captain's water store into the basin. He picked up the razor and stared at it, as if unsure of what to do. Something as simple and mundane as shaving suddenly felt ridiculous. He studied himself in the reflective glass - the lines around his eyes, the dark blond hair on his face, following the trail it took from the curve of his jaw and down his neck. Epeius asking if he had a death wish reminded him of his talk with Jason at the Academy almost a year ago. His friend had asked him a similar question then as well. Iolaus remembered being shocked by it at the time, insisting that Jason was acting crazy, reading too much into things. Now… it just made him laugh.

He swallowed, checking the sharpness of the razor. That talk with Jason felt like a lifetime ago. He'd wished, at the time, that he'd gone to him sooner. He wished, maybe instead, that he should have found some way to talk to Hercules. He wished a lot of things. He could almost hear Jason in his head now, telling him everything was going to be okay, that he was okay, that it was all going to work out…

He felt his hand tightening around the razor's handle and closed his eyes against a sudden wave of despair. He wanted nothing more than to put his fist through the glass so he wouldn't have to look at himself anymore. He figured that probably wouldn't be the best idea. He and Epeius knew each other, but they weren't exactly friends, and smashing up the captain's quarters would just land him in the brig. Iolaus pondered that. At least then he'd be alone.

Not worth it, he told himself firmly, and dug around some more in the small cupboard until he located a sandstone and began methodically sharpening the flint. Once he was satisfied, he scooped out a glob of the whale fat and smeared it over his face and neck and got to work. The scrape of the flint against his skin, the sound the excess made as he flicked his wrist and it splatted against the copper basin, was oddly therapeutic. He forced himself to focus on what he was doing, watching each piece of hair as it came off on the razor, drowning everything else out, almost as if he was in a state of meditation. This was the closest he'd been able to come to it in recent months, and for a moment, it actually gave him the smallest, teensiest amount of peace.

But only for a moment, as he again thought back to that day at the Academy, and he could hear all the things Jason had told him, echoing in his head…

Nine Months Earlier

The kids were in an uproar.

Jason threw the scroll he was reading back down onto his desk in irritation and pushed his chair back, walking across his office to peer out the window. What in the hell have they gotten themselves into now? The smaller ones were crowding around someone over by the gate, someone with curly blond hair…

It took Jason a moment to actually figure out what he was seeing. Hercules had written to him, but actually seeing him was a different story. He was here, really here…

Jason ran out of his office and down the halls of the Academy, startling some of the older students, who had never seen their new headmaster move so fast outside of sparring practice.

By the time he'd made it into and across the yard, Iolaus was busy disentangling himself from the gaggle of younger cadets. "Sing, sing!" they were chanting.

"Tell us a joke!" another called out.

"Where's your funny hat?" asked another.

Iolaus was baffled. He glanced up as Jason came jogging over, the look on his face clearly saying, Help me.

Oh, no, Jason thought, his elation quickly evaporating. They think he's the other one… "Come on, kids!" he ordered, trying to shoo them away. "Give the man some air."

All the kids groaned in displeasure. "But, we want to see some tricks!" a young boy complained. "Can you juggle for us again?"

Iolaus sputtered, wide eyed, at a complete loss for words, and kept looking at Jason for some kind of explanation. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about…" He stared at the former king expectantly.

Jason grimaced. I'm going to kill Hercules. "Kids, go back inside. I know who he looks like, but…" The second the words were out of his mouth, comprehension dawned on Iolaus' face. His friend looked so shocked, so hurt, that it felt like someone had reached in and squeezed Jason's heart. "Just… go back inside everyone, that's an order."

The kids moped and moaned, but still obeyed, traipsing across the yard and into the main building. Iolaus watched them go, that same look on his face. Jason didn't know what to say. "Sorry" just didn't seem appropriate. Most of his apprehension melted away when Iolaus turned back to face him and Jason looked at him, really looked at him, as if unable to believe he was standing there.

"Jason, what the hell was-" Iolaus began but he was cut off as Jason grabbed his arm and pulled him into a bear hug. Iolaus felt the breath get pushed out of his lungs from the force of it.

"It's you?" Jason murmured into Iolaus' hair. "Really you?" He sounded like he was afraid that if he let go, Iolaus would suddenly vanish into thin air.

Iolaus pushed everything else aside for the moment and gripped Jason's arms, pulling back so he could look him in the eyes. "Yeah, it's me, Jason. I know Herc wrote to you, but I… I had to come see you, to tell you in person."

"My gods… I honestly thought he'd lost it, when I got the scroll. But… I figured if anyone could do it, he could."

Iolaus' brow furrowed. "Do what?"

"Get you back somehow," Jason told him. Iolaus looked confused again. "What?"

"He didn't tell you? The whole story, I mean." Iolaus looked back over his shoulder, where the younger cadets had disappeared to, and then around the yard where some of the older students were now looking more interested. "I guess that makes two of us," he muttered, darkly.

Jason sighed. "He didn't go into detail. Just the usual. You know… fate of the world, apocalyptic stuff. Said that somehow you managed to get out of wherever you were to help him, and that you were back for good. I just figured…" Jason trailed off. "He probably wanted you to tell me the story in person. It is your story, after all."

"Right," Iolaus said, noncommittally. "Why does everyone keep staring at me?"

"Oh," Jason said, numbly. "Um… about that… When Hercules came here last, he brought… well…" Jason felt immediately awkward. Gods, Hercules, what the hell? He didn't know what Iolaus knew and what he didn't know, but he saved Jason from having to give the hardest blow by saying, "He brought the jester, didn't he? They think I'm him."

Okay, so he at least knows that much. "Yeah… Hercules helped him out, when he brought him over here. Tried to get him more acclimated. They traveled around together…" Iolaus whipped his head back around to stare at Jason, who immediately shut his mouth and stared at the ground.

"He… he traveled around with him? Introduced him to you? To… everybody?" When Jason didn't answer, Iolaus clenched his jaw and stared off in the general direction of the barracks. "Lilith?" he asked, quietly.

"Yeah, she was here. And Seska… he told you about Seska, right?"

That seemed to snap Iolaus out of his bad mood for a moment. "Yes! Gods, yes… Seska! I almost forgot. That's amazing!"

Jason shrugged and gave his friend a small smile. "Yeah, I think she's pretty great. She's off with her mom now."

Iolaus gave him a knowing look. "You and Lilith… We all knew, you know. Hard not to, what with all that carrying on at night-"

"Okay, smart ass. Don't even get me started on all the times you woke me and everyone else up stumbling into the bunks, regaling us all with tales of your wild nights."

Iolaus grinned at him. "Hey, they were worth regaling." He noticed that they seemed to be drawing more attention to themselves and immediately sobered. "So… does everyone here think I'm him?"

"The older kids know you from the stories. They were more confused by the other one, but they got used to him. Now I think they're just confused again." Iolaus was looking more and more angry by the second, so Jason cleared his throat and steered him toward the gates. "How about you and I go into Corinth? Get some ale, talk, catch up? I want to hear about what happened with these Horsemen and how the hell you got back here."

Iolaus didn't seem to hear him. "This is new," he said, quietly.

Jason's brow furrowed. "What's new?"

"This feeling. People usually just forget about me. But this… it feels like… I've been erased."

Jason had no good response for that so he wisely said nothing, and instead tried again to push Iolaus towards the entrance. "Come on… I'll explain everything. But, we're both going to need a drink."

A few hours later, Jason was pushing himself back through the crowds over to the table Iolaus was saving for them, two full mugs in his hands.

"I'm sorry that Hercules didn't tell you. He's always got his mind on the bigger things that he forgets sometimes about smaller, just as important things," Jason said, sitting back down and pushing one of the ales at Iolaus. The other man was gazing across the tavern and didn't seem to have heard him, so Jason prodded his hand lightly with the mug. Iolaus turned back to face him.

"Thanks," he said, taking the drink. "No, he did. He told me… sort of. And I could see what was going on from the Light. Sort of."

Jason could tell he was being deliberately evasive. "He wasn't trying to replace you, Iolaus. You know he could never do that. Would never," he amended.

Iolaus nodded in a way that made Jason think he wasn't entirely convinced. "Yeah… so… how are things?"

Jason narrowed his eyes. "You came all the way here to tell me you aren't dead and ask how the Academy is? I don't think so." He took a gulp of his own drink, eyeing Iolaus suspiciously over the rim. "Let's have it."

Iolaus shrugged. "I told you. I wanted to see you. Tell you about what happened, in person." Iolaus had explained what had transpired a few months prior with Michael and the Four Horsemen, how he had snuck out of the Light to warn Hercules, and how he'd been sent back to Earth to rejoin the demigod once it was all over. Jason had been stunned, especially to hear Iolaus talk about this Light place. It sounded like paradise, better than all the stories of the Elysian Fields, which he had honestly thought was just about as good as it gets once you were dead. Apparently they had all been severely misinformed. Leave it to Hades to hold out on us, Jason thought, wryly.

"Is it so hard to believe that I just wanted to give the news of me being very much alive to one of my best friends in person?" Iolaus asked, but he could tell Jason wasn't buying it. He drummed his fingers on the table as Jason leaned back against his seat, waiting patiently. Well, come on… this is what you came here for. To talk to Jason. So… talk, idiot. "Okay, so… maybe that's not all."

"Shocker," Jason deadpanned.

"Are you going to listen or crack jokes?" When Jason looked properly mollified, Iolaus continued, "To be honest, I've had kind of a hard time… readjusting." At Jason's look, Iolaus gestured vaguely. "You know… to being back." Nothing. Zeus on Olympus, do I have to spell this out? "To being alive again, Jason."

"I got that. I'm just trying to make some sense out of it. You've been home now for, what… three, four months? And… you came to see me now? I'm just surprised that you didn't go to Hercules, that's all. Unless, you have already."

Iolaus gave a quick shake of the head. "I wanted to come earlier but, you know how it goes with us… we got busy. And no, I haven't talked to Herc. Not about this. It's hard for me to talk to him about this stuff, I dunno…" He trailed off and rubbed a hand over his face wearily. "I haven't been sleeping well. Neither of us have. I want to talk to him, but, you know how he gets. He's got a lot to worry about."

"He does that to himself," Jason said, shrugging. "He's your best friend. You can tell him anything. And you can tell me anything, too. So… what's on your mind?"

Iolaus stared into his cup. He wanted desperately to get some of these things off his chest, but at the same time, he was reluctant to say them out loud. Jason waited while he gathered his thoughts. Well… here goes nothing. "This whole thing with being back. I was okay, at first. Everything felt so new and bright and… alive. But…" He swallowed, as if trying to find the will to continue. "I started remembering."

Jason had an idea of what Iolaus meant, but he asked anyway. "Remembering what?"

"Things. Things I'd done. Things Dahak made me do. Like what I did to you." He looked up at Jason then, and the Argonaut was startled to see a well of pain in Iolaus' eyes. "I still need to apologize to you for that, by the way."

"Apologize for what? That wasn't you. I know that now. The thing put on a pretty convincing show though, let me tell you what. It had us all fooled. I should be apologizing to you, for not recognizing that something was wrong." Iolaus was still staring at him sadly. "Iolaus… that wasn't you," Jason insisted. "You were trapped in there but it wasn't you, out here. Don't do this to yourself."

"Can't help it. I can see it, when I close my eyes, almost like it was me. I can see everything, Jason." Iolaus closed his eyes and shook his head, as if willing away the very images he was speaking of. "And this thing recently with Sin, and how Hercules took her power to defeat Xerxos. It… brought a lot of that back. I could see it… the way it was changing him. The way I let Dahak change me, in that place. I let him manipulate me, and I let him in. Let him into the world, let him almost destroy my home…"

Now Jason understood why Iolaus was reluctant to talk to Hercules. After Dahak had been forced out of Iolaus' body and Nebula and Morrigan had helped him out of the temple, Hercules had relayed all of the things Dahak had told him about Iolaus and then proceeded to vehemently deny all of it. "He's at peace now," he had said. "That thing can't hurt him anymore. Can't twist everything Iolaus stood for anymore." He'd hemmed and hawed for days about what to do with the body. "That's not Iolaus. That thing used his body, made it something… else." In the end Jason had convinced him to bury it anyway, as therapy. And then Hercules went about trying to clear Iolaus' name from Corinth to Athens and beyond.

Jason wasn't sure himself how Dahak had managed to possess his friend and was inclined to believe Hercules, until Nebula and Morrigan had gotten into an argument about it before Hercules had gone off with the Eirish woman to Cyprus.

"What was all that about?" he had asked Nebula as Morrigan had stalked off. She glared over at him, eyes smoldering, before muttering, "Nothing." The next day she packed up and headed back to Sumeria without even saying goodbye.

Jason waited to tell Hercules about what he'd overheard until the demigod had returned from Cyprus – how Morrigan had insisted that Iolaus was the one that had let Dahak in, that it was Iolaus' fault to begin with. Hercules, already heartbroken and angry at Morrigan anyway, had argued with Jason profusely over it to the point that the former king just let the whole thing go so as not to put a rift in their friendship. Iolaus was dead, gone, and at peace. There was no use arguing about the specifics.

But now Iolaus was back, and it was clear that all the things that had happened to his friend were still haunting him. And, judging by the way Hercules had reacted when Jason had tried to bring Dahak up all those months ago, and the almost blasé way he had told Jason about the Horsemen and Iolaus being back, the demigod was not in the best place yet himself, either. "You made a mistake, Iolaus," Jason told him. "It's all right. You're human. We're all human. Human's make mistakes."

Iolaus smiled a little bitterly. "Not all of us are human," he said quietly, as if to himself.

Something like an alarm bell went off in Jason's head, but he didn't know quite what to say at first so he just sipped his ale. "So," he said, casually, after a beat, "this is about him then. You two get into a fight?"

"No, nothing like that. I almost wish we'd gotten into a fight. Herc's been more laid back than usual. Not his normal nosey self, you know?" Iolaus shrugged. "I think he's just trying to… I dunno, brush things off, make up for lost time. Things that would normally get a rise out of him don't work anymore. It's like he's afraid to get angry with me."

"Oh," Jason said, shifting uncomfortably. "That. Uh… well, you're probably right about making up for lost time, but it may also be because of-"

"The other one?" Iolaus interrupted. "Yeah, I thought of that, too."

"He was having a really shit time, Iolaus," Jason said, apologetically. "Whatever he did or didn't do back then… I kind of put it in a bucket labeled temporary insanity and leave it at that."

"I'm worried about him," Iolaus said, softly. Jason glanced up to see him staring into the ale, his brow furrowed. "Something Sin had said… about there being anger in Hercules, and that one day, it would come out. It made me think of… when I wasn't around."

"You could see all that?" Jason asked.

He tried to sound nonchalant, but Iolaus could tell that what he had said disturbed him, just like it always disturbed Hercules when he tried to talk about being in the Light. He thought he would at least be able to talk to Jason about this. Jason had dealt with demons – personal ones – when Medea had killed his family. The two of them went back almost as far as he and Hercules did, and there had always been some kind of unspoken bond between them. The two mortals who got to hang out with the son of Zeus. Iolaus and Jason had never become as close as he and Hercules had, but Jason was still like family. If he didn't have Jason to talk to, he felt like he didn't have anyone. And he couldn't talk to Hercules. Not about this.

Iolaus shrugged, trying to brush it off. "Dahak showed me some stuff," he said, flippantly. "I saw him in that place… Eire? When Morrigan was beating him up." He shook his head. "He didn't care. I think… I think he wanted to die. He wanted her to kill him." Iolaus sighed. "I don't even know if I really saw what I saw. Dahak liked to twist things around, make me see things that were real but not, to try and get me to… you know." He cleared his throat and Jason patiently waited for him to continue. "I dunno… what Sin said about him having that darkness inside got me thinking. What if she's right? What if she's right about all of us? You, Hercules… me."

"I'm going to stop you right there," Jason said, sharply. "I know what you're doing. What happened with Dahak wasn't your fault." Iolaus snorted derisively, making the former king frown. "I'm being serious, Iolaus. Like I said… you're human. No one's perfect. If it had been anyone else, they would have caved long before you did. They may not have been able to fight as hard as you did, and Hercules wouldn't have been able to save them, and we'd all be dead right now. Dead, or slaves of Dahak for eternity."

"Food," Iolaus corrected, bluntly, making Jason blink. "Sorry." He had to learn to stop doing that. Sometimes it was just better not to know.

"It's okay," Jason said, slowly, his drink forgotten. "This thing with Sin… Hercules letting her in his head… is that really what brought all this on?"

"It brought up some stuff," Iolaus admitted, "yeah. But, I felt like this before all that happened."

"Does he know?"

"I can't talk to him about this," Iolaus reiterated. "You know how he is, how he gets. I don't want to upset him. He's… we've… well, we've just both been through a lot."

Jason couldn't argue with that. "You know, it's kind of ironic that here you are, back from the dead, back from all that's happened to you, and you're sitting here worried about Hercules."

Iolaus grunted. "Yeah. Well, I'm messed up that way, Jason. It's part of my innate charm."

"You're not messed up, Iolaus," Jason insisted, sharply. "You're just a person that's had a lot of messed up things happen to them. You're a good man… one of the best I know. You let yourself think like this, and that thing wins."

"Anyway," Iolaus said, clearing his throat, "I've been trying to joke around, you know? Trying not to think about all of it. But the dreams… the dreams, Jason…"

Jason put a hand on Iolaus' arm. "I've been there. Not like this, but… I used to see their bodies. My kids. Every time I shut my eyes…"

Both men stared into their drinks. Not for the first time, Iolaus felt like cursing the gods and the Fates. All three of them – Jason, Hercules, and Iolaus – had experienced such great and terrible losses. Even Iphicles, with the death of Rena. It wasn't right or fair. The thanks you get for being a hero, Dahak had tormented him. You taunt the gods, you put your lives on the line, and everyone ends up dead. Your friends, your families... Was it worth it? Iolaus squeezed his eyes shut and tried to make the voice go away.

"You know," he said out loud, "I used to think about how lucky I was. I got to travel around with Hercules, for crying out loud. Me… the thief, the screw up… he'd picked me to be his friend. And we got to do what we had always talked about. And I felt like… like I was so lucky, because I got to play the hero, instead of doing what everyone else was doing, like being a farmer or a baker or whatever. I would sit back and think, 'My gods, this is my life'." He wasn't even sure who he was talking to anymore, Jason or himself. "And I was so proud, so proud of him. And I never, ever wanted anything that he had. Yeah, there would be occasional feelings of resentment, but I just pushed it away because it wasn't his fault. He can't help it, he can't help how people see him or that he's just great at everything. It's…" He waved his hand vaguely and then picked up his ale again, swirling it around. "It's a demigod thing. And he never, ever made me feel less important, you know? He never treated me like a sidekick. We were always partners, always best friends."

"But..?" Jason prompted.

"But… after a while… I don't know. I never did any of this for the glory. And it was fine, getting left out of the stories sometimes. But my gods… he would introduce me and two minutes later they would forget my name. They could at least try to remember my name, right?" He laughed bitterly. "It's so funny. I spent all this time trying to convince myself that I didn't need to be remembered, but a part of me couldn't help it. Like you said, I'm human right? And… I got my wish. People remember me now," he said, sadly. "Just not for what I would have wanted them to. They'll remember my name, and they'll remember what I did… what Dahak did… and they'll forget that at some point I tried to be a hero."

"You are a hero, Iolaus," Jason said, emphatically.

Iolaus just nodded. "Sure I am." Yeah, that's me… occasional hero, sometimes blacksmith, lover of women… betrayer of friends, destroyer of worlds…

Jason had never seen him like this before. Iolaus was always the most confident out of all of them, the most self-assured, the most certain. Jason had seen him take a blow that would knock anyone else unconscious and then jump right back up and start pummeling whoever had hit him. Iolaus was always the sure one, the rock. When Hercules and Jason's families had died he'd been there, helping both of them up, not even thinking about his own losses. Jason had seen him when the Enforcer had beaten him half dead, and Iolaus had somehow managed to keep himself upright and walking long enough to get to Hercules, to warn him, before succumbing to his wounds. Then Hercules had brought him home, and he'd bounced right back into action, like it was nothing. And yes, Iolaus was right that sometimes the constantly being pushed aside for Hercules got to him… Jason had seen it himself a few times, over the years. But, the hunter would always get over it. This didn't sound like Iolaus at all, and it was terrifying. What did that thing do to him?

"Iolaus," Jason began, and when the other man didn't answer he repeated, more forcefully, "Iolaus. Look at me." Iolaus rolled his eyes but then begrudgingly looked back over at the former king. "I don't know what that thing told you, or has still got you convinced of, but you are a hero. No one else here could do what you do, including me." Iolaus made a noise like he was going to argue, but Jason pressed on, "I'm being serious. I've seen you run into burning buildings, saving lives, when everyone else was standing around like idiots, too scared to move. No one made you do that, and you sure as hell didn't do it for yourself. And you're the only person I know, god or mortal, that can keep up with Hercules, and kick his ass to boot. I've seen you do it. That's how we both knew that thing wasn't you. If Dahak really had you – all your memories, all your skills – Hercules would be a puddle of goop somewhere in Sumeria and we'd all be… well… food, apparently. Don't you dare sell yourself short. You're a great hero, Iolaus."

"Stop it, Jason. You're going to make me blush," Iolaus quipped sarcastically and sipped his ale.

"Look," Jason was saying, "you may not be a god or a half god, but you still did all those things. You put your life on the line every day, do all the same things Hercules does, and you don't even have his abilities. That means something…" He trailed off, staring at Iolaus strangely. "What? What's wrong?"

Iolaus had stiffened in his seat, and he could feel all the blood draining from his face. He suddenly felt freezing cold. "You… um…" The minute Jason said the words, that feeling of fear, of thinking that none of this was real, came rising up out of the depths. It was almost the same thing Dahak had said to him, in that place between life and death, that horrible limbo. You did all those things with half his strength. In a way, that makes you better than he ever was. Iolaus suddenly had to resist going into a full blown panic. "Jason…" He swallowed, stammering. His palms were sweaty. He rubbed them on his pants in a nervous tick.

"What did I say?" Jason asked, concerned. "Iolaus?"

Calm down. This is Jason. Jason. He didn't mean it, he didn't know… "Dahak. He-he said something like that to me once. About how I was better, because I wasn't a demigod. You know, part of his process of breaking me down."

"Fuck," Jason breathed, putting a hand over his face. "Iolaus, I'm so sorry-"

"No, it's okay, it's okay," Iolaus insisted, waving him off. "You didn't know. And Dahak was never as creative as you when it came to slinging insults and curses so… I know it's you. That this isn't a dream."

Jason didn't know whether to laugh at that or not, so he just made a noncommittal noise, still looking over at Iolaus warily. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. I'm sorry that…" The older man took a deep breath. "I'm sorry all those things happened to you, Iolaus. You didn't deserve any of it. You, or Hercules." He shook his head and knocked back the remainder of his ale. "It's not right."

Iolaus just nodded dully. "No… I guess it isn't."

"I couldn't help thinking, after it was all over, if you guys had just stayed here in Greece… But… It would have just happened to someone else."

Iolaus crossed his arms and titled his head, regarding him across the table. "So, you think Hercules and I were just… in the wrong place at the wrong time?"

Jason shrugged. "Maybe," he said, but Iolaus shook his head.

"Gilgamesh sent people to look for Hercules, remember? He needed him to get the Nectar of the Gods. And he needed me there, too. He needed me to die, to let Dahak in. No… what happened wasn't an accident."

Jason's eyes widened. "What are you talking about?" he demanded, trying to keep his voice even.

Iolaus could tell he was starting to scare him, but Jason, unlike Hercules, would be able to handle it without going off the deep end. "You keep saying if it had been anyone else, they wouldn't have been able to fight it. But it was never going to be anyone else. It picked me, Jason. That's what you don't get. What none of you get. It's why I can't talk to Hercules about this, because he'll just argue with me or tell me he's forgiven me, when he shouldn't…" He could feel his temper about to boil over, out of control, and he clenched his fists. "It saw something inside. Inside me. It knew it was there. The jealousy, the anger, the resentment… And it knew exactly how to get to me. I have to live with that, Jason. Me. I have to live with it for the rest of my life, which I thought was blissfully over and now-"

"First of all," Jason interrupted, forcefully, "the way Hercules tells it, Gilgamesh picked Nebula because Dahak needed a warrior heart and she was convenient-" But Iolaus cut him off, shaking his head.

"No, Jason. It new I would save her. It knew the whole time."

Jason took a deep breath and continued as if Iolaus hadn't spoken, "And second of all… Do you wish you were still dead?"

Iolaus blinked in surprise, seeming to snap out of the dark reverie he'd gotten himself into after Jason had misspoke. "What?" he sputtered, horrified. "Of course not!" He shook his head emphatically, pushing back away from the table and staring at Jason as if he had just said something obscene. "No! No, I don't wish I was dead!"

"All right," Jason said, amicably. "Then what did you mean?"

Iolaus gaped at him. "Exactly what I said… I thought it was over. But it's not. Which is of the things that are good," he added, when Jason was still looking at him strangely. "Would it be easier, if I was still dead? Sure. Of course it would be. I wouldn't be dealing with all of this right now, for one. But I don't want easy, Jason. I want to be alive."

"You sure about that?"

"Yes!" Iolaus insisted. "Jason, I do not wish I was still dead. I may have picked up a new more morbid sense of humor recently, but come on… I'm not that sick." Dying, being dead, was horrible. He'd had to do it three times, each time even more painful and mentally disturbing than the last. Especially this last time, where he couldn't move on, when he was trapped with Dahak for who knew how long, and the only way out was to break down, to let him in, his soul damned forever. Until the Light… "No," he said again. "I enjoy being very much alive."

Jason was giving him a look that Iolaus couldn't quite read. "I was going to say that if you did… I almost wouldn't blame you."

That was just about the last thing Iolaus had expected to hear, and it completely threw him off. "Huh?" he said, stupidly.

"The way you talk about the Light, about it being pure bliss… I don't think I could give that up and then come back here. The world we live in is a hard place, Iolaus. I look at those kids at the Academy, and I'm afraid for them. People are out there dying, starving, killing, raping… I remember thinking, when my family died, how easy it would be to just end it all."

"I… I've never heard you talk about it like that before," Iolaus said softly, mostly to cover up the fact that what Jason had said had struck a significant chord. Life here was harsh, and painful, and loud, and… and wishing he was back in the Light wasn't the same thing as wanting to be dead, right? Wishing for peace wasn't the same thing as wishing for death.

Right?

"Well," Jason was saying, "I try not to think about it like that either. It's pretty dark. But, we all have those thoughts sometimes, Iolaus. Even Hercules. Especially Hercules, after you died. But, like you said… we don't want easy. Sometimes the hardest thing you have to do in this world is live in it. And that's why you and Hercules are heroes. You somehow find a way to get past all those things, to see the good in people, to see a world that could be better, and not dwell on all the bad things. You live." He caught Iolaus' eye then. "You're going to get through this. Just like Hercules did… just like I did. The two of you pulled me out of the pit that I had dug for myself and made me live again. And I'll do the same thing for you, if you need me to." He squeezed Iolaus' arm. "You're going to be okay."

Iolaus didn't know quite what to say. "You're right," he began, tentatively, "about… giving up the Light and coming back here. It hasn't been easy. But… I need to live. Like you said. I don't want to be dead, but I'm not really living, either."

"That change isn't going to happen overnight. The dreams aren't just going to go away," Jason told him.

"And I know that. But… they never will if I keep dwelling on everything. And the only way I'm going to get better is to live." It was almost as if a cloud had been lifted off Iolaus' eyes, and he could suddenly see things with brilliant clarity. "I've kind of just been going through the motions recently. I didn't even realize it until you said something just now. Jason… thank you." And he meant it. Talking with Jason, hearing the former king admit to feeling this way himself before, and forcing himself to confront everything, had done wonders for his mental state. It wasn't a one fix solution, but he unexpectedly felt better than he had in months. "I needed this. Really, I did. You've given me a lot to think about."

"I'm always here if you need me," Jason told him.

"I know that." Iolaus smiled at him. "Thanks. I needed to get a lot of that off my chest."

"You're not going to want to hear it, but I really think you should talk to Hercules about some of this. He probably doesn't even realize how bad it's been for you."

"That's just Hercules. He doesn't mean to do it. Like you said, he's got his mind on bigger things." Iolaus realized he sounded resentful again, and gave the former king a half shrug. "But, you're right. I should find a way to talk to him." He took a deep breath and let it out, feeling many of the things that had been weighing him down leave and float away somewhere. "I'm hungry," he said, abruptly, making Jason bark a laugh. "Where's one of those pretty barmaids…"

Iolaus stared at the flint razor in his hand. He had finished shaving, but for some reason he hadn't put the blade down. He kept staring at it, fascinated, as if it suddenly held the answers to all life's mysteries.

Sometimes the hardest thing you have to do in this world is live in it.

Jason had no idea how right he really was.

The only way I'm going to get better is to live.

But he'd tried that. He wasn't better. He thought the talk with Jason had helped; it seemed to give in a new zest for life. Then Dacia had happened, and he had realized that he still really wasn't living, that he was using life as an escape.

Hysterical laughter bubbled up. He was using life as an escape and he wanted to escape life… how sick was that?

My gods, I'm losing my mind.

Maybe he hadn't given himself enough time. He had thought he was better, before Dacia, but it had brought everything back and then nothing had seemed to work. How much time was enough time? He didn't know. There wasn't exactly a support group he could go to for the things that had happened to him. Hi, I'm Iolaus. I've been demon free for 276 days now. I sacrificed my soul to a dark god, and he used my body to torture my girlfriend, kill hundreds of people, and then try to destroy the world. Oh, and to do all that? He got me to betray my best friend.

He'd had friends from the wars in Parthia and Troy who never got over all the things that they had seen or done. It had been too much for them, and eventually they had broken just from sheer memories, their minds making them relive battles or tortures over and over and over again. He had felt sorry for them; he couldn't understand how someone could let those things get to them like that, to the point where they had driven themselves mad. The wars, the things he and Hercules had seen in their travels, it had bothered him, too, but… he just figured he and Hercules had seen and done so much that they were past the point of breaking. They had to be, because people depended on them. So he'd thought, Those poor bastards, and shook his head and went on about his life. He'd been so arrogant.

And now here he was, on a ship headed for Persia, standing alone in the captain's quarters with whale fat on his face thinking about how easy it would be for him to take this flint razor and just end it all. So, so easy. Years of fights, of life or death on the battlefield, had come in handy. He knew exactly where on the body to cut so that they couldn't save him. Wrists would take too long – someone would come looking for him. People that did it that way were in for a slow, annoyingly long and painful death. It could take hours.

Iolaus tore his gaze away from the razor to stare at his neck.

There.

There was an artery right there, next to the Adam's apple, above the collarbone. People that slit their wrists were idiots. If they really wanted to kill themselves, they should just take something like this razor and slit their own throats. Sure, it would be messy… there'd be blood everywhere, all over the mirror, pools of it on the floor, Pax would have to clean it up…

The razor made a sharp clanging sound as it hit the basin.

What am I doing?

All the breath left his lungs and he had to hold onto the cupboard to steady himself, he felt so weak. Without even realizing it, he had raised the razor, the tip agonizingly close to that spot on his neck…

No point, he told himself, forcefully. Too easy. You don't want easy, remember? You want to live. You have to live.

His hair fell into his eyes, tangled and greasy, and he pushed it away, growling irritably. It had gotten long again. Looking up at the mirror, he hated what he saw. Everything his father used to say to him starting echoing in his mind – how he was no good for anything, that he was a whiner, a crybaby, a weakling – and he grit his teeth against it.

No. You're not taking the easy way out. You're not going to prove him right. You're better than this. You can beat this. You are not going to die alone on this gods damned ship in the middle of the ocean, choking on your own blood and misery. Snap out of it. Snap out of it now.

He took a few more deep breaths in an attempt to get himself together, and then grabbed the carafe and splashed a little more of the precious water store into the basin. He used it to scrub the remainder of the whale fat off his face, and then pulled up the bottom of his tunic, using it to blot dry.

See? he tried to convince himself. That's better.

He couldn't believe what he had almost done. The thought of it made his stomach churn. It was this ship. It had to be. A week of being cooped up here was getting to him.

Yes. That was it.

He was still upset over leaving Hercules and being stuck here was just making him even more miserable. He should have been off of it by now, in Thrace bartering for a horse or a ride, not standing in front of a mirror hating his own reflection and contemplating grisly suicide.

Disgusted, he grabbed the jar of whale fat and the flint razor and made to put them back in the cupboard when his hair fell into his eyes again. For some reason this small act made him lose what little hold he had left on his temper entirely, and he violently threw the jar across the room, shattering it against the bulkhead.

He hated it. All of it. He hated himself, he hated this ship, he hated his stupid, messy hair…

The razor still in his hand, he grabbed a handful of it and brutally sawed it off, throwing the hunk of hair onto the floor. Breathing heavily, he grabbed another handful and cut that off, too. It felt good. He cut more, and more, and more, and before he knew it there was a pile of blond curls on the wooden deck and he just kept cutting and cutting and cutting…

Iolaus came out twenty minutes later to the shocked stares of Epeius and his crew.

"I owe you a jar of whale fat," he said, bluntly, and kept walking.

Some fun historical information: Ancient Greeks were people of the beard. That is why I always found it fascinating that everyone was kept so clean shaven on this show. For the Greeks, beards were a sign of virility, manhood, and wisdom. However, and this is where it gets interesting, Greek men would cut their beards during times of grief and mourning. If they couldn't get to a blade, they would tear out their beard with their bare hands or burn it off with fire (!)

Now, I had no idea about this when I came up with the idea for Iolaus to get into a grief induced hair trim. I just know Michael Hurst hated the long hair and has kept it pretty short over the last fifteen years, and frankly I prefer how he looks with it short as well, so I had Iolaus chop it all off. When I was researching what they used to shave with in ancient times I found that above piece of info, it was kind of weird. So I guess Iolaus is kind of keeping up with Greek tradition by taking a razor to his hair, since he is obviously still traumatized and grieving in his own, convoluted way.