Just like every night, Icarus was plagued by the same terrible memories, but this time there was a new factor. Hercules was the first person outside of his family to see his night terrors, which made it difficult for Icarus to fall asleep. The intensity of the whole nighttime experience that had been a part of Icarus's life every night for four years was certainly going to be a surprise for his friend.

Hercules was abruptly startled awake in the early hours of the morning by a scream so terrible that it sent chills down his spine just to remember it even weeks later. He untangled himself from his blankets and nearly fell out of the statue head he used as a room as he struggled to think, to remember any Hero Rules that would apply to a nighttime attack before he realized it was Icarus.

When he finally looked across to the other hammock, he saw Icarus sitting bolt upright. His features were visible in rays of moonlight, tense and wild. His chest heaved as he tried to calm down, and Hercules relaxed a little, willing to wait until Icarus was ready to talk.

"Kid!" Phil shouted from below them. "You okay?"

Hercules heard the groggy undertone, and he called back. "It was just Icarus. I might come in to warm up some milk or grab a snack in a few minutes, okay?"

"Okay, kid. Just checking."

Phil meandered back to his house, and Hercules heard the door shut. He sat in the gently swaying hammock and watched as Icarus grasped at his stiff, unnatural hair and rocked backward and forward, trying to calm down. His eyes stared at nothing, lost in memories that were so horrific that Hercules knew he could never imagine them. After several long minutes, Icarus stopped moving then looked around in confusion. When he saw Hercules, he looked embarrassed and he sat up and twisted the blankets in his hands as his eyes rested on anything and everything except for his friend.

"You okay now?" Hercules asked gently.

Icarus shrugged. "I don't know." He paused. "Dadalus usually makes me something hot to drink. We sit for half an hour or so. Then we go back to bed. Is that something we can do?"

"Sure," Hercules said. He tossed aside his blanket then expertly dropped down through the hole in the statue that allowed him to get outside. "Come on."

Icarus eyed the hole then attempted to copy his friend. Unfortunately, he misjudged the distance and found himself on his smarting rear as the moon shone down on him. Hercules smiled, not a hint of amusement on his face.

"It took me a while to get the hang of it. You'll get it. Come on. I'll make a snack. We'll have to sit outside to eat since Phil's trying to sleep, but it's a nice night so it shouldn't matter."

Icarus nodded and followed Hercules into the house to watch him warm up some goat's milk and dig out a plate full of the leftover dinner they'd eaten. When everything was ready, they headed outside to sit under the stars. Icarus nibbled on a piece of bread as he sipped the warm milk, too embarrassed to say anything. He wasn't sure his nighttime contemplations would be accepted by Hercules, seeing as they revealed a very different side to his personality. Still, his mind churned as he considered the events of the day. Hercules said he was his friend. Didn't that mean he'd at least try and accept every part of him?

Icarus took a large swallow of warm milk and studied the stars. He decided to try. "Herc?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you ever wondered what the world would be like without you?"

"A couple times," Hercules said, not even missing a beat. "What about you?"

"If I hadn't been born, I never would have screwed up my parents' marriage."

"Did they divorce because you were born?" Hercules asked, surprised. "I somehow can't see Daedalus doing that."

"No. But if I hadn't been born, I couldn't have ruined the wax wings' prototype experiment. I wouldn't have existed. And Momalus and Dadalus would still be married, and maybe they'd have other kids, you know, normal ones, and things would be better."

"I don't think that would be better," Hercules said after a brief pause.

"Why not?"

"You wouldn't be here, and I wouldn't have any friends."

Icarus chewed on a bit of leftover fish and nodded thoughtfully. "Can't change it. But it's still interesting to think about."

"Yeah." Hercules paused then nudged him. "You going to be okay?"

"I don't know," Icarus answered honestly. "I need to spend a few days and just think."

"Why don't you stay home from school tomorrow?" Hercules asked. "I'm sure Phil won't mind."

"I'm definitely not going in," Icarus said grimly.

"Why not?" Hercules asked.

"I don't want to see my Dadalus." Icarus finished off his milk and stood up. "Please don't tell him I'm here, okay?"

"Course not. I'll grab an extra copy of the homework for you." Hercules stood up and brushed dirt off his toga. "Ready to try and sleep some more?"

When Icarus nodded, they carried the dishes into the house then crawled back into their hammocks. Icarus turned over to watch Hercules get comfortable then said softly, "Night, Herc."

"Night."

Icarus managed to fall asleep relatively quickly, and he was woken up by Hercules shaking him what seemed like minutes later.

"What?" Icarus mumbled, squinting in the half-light.

"Breakfast," Hercules said. "Then morning training for me. You can watch if you want."

Icarus nodded as he dropped out of the hammock, hitting his knees before standing up on the soft grass, wet with dew. He followed Hercules into the house to find a plate of hot breakfast waiting for him. He sat down and began to eat, watching and listening to Hercules and Phil talking about the morning training program. Icarus enjoyed his breakfast then walked out across the yard to the training course. It was set up for some kind of agility training, and Hercules flushed.

"You don't have to watch," he said quietly.

Icarus smiled. "Clumsy?"

"Well… yeah."

"I'll only laugh a little," Icarus teased.

Hercules blew out a breath. "Well, I guess it doesn't matter. You're my friend, so it's all in good fun."

Icarus nodded then settled on a boulder to watch. It was interesting to see what Hercules did every morning before school. In a way, it was a new dimension of friendship, more intimate than any other friendship he'd ever had, even before the accident. He sat quietly and ruminated on his blooming friendship with Hercules as he watched the hero-in-training get up again and again, tripping and slipping and crashing his way through the course, and he was very pleased that Hercules was his friend.

When Phil stopped the training session, Hercules slumped down beside Icarus, trying to get his breath back.

"So?" Hercules asked almost shyly.

"Looks tough," Icarus said, smiling briefly. "I couldn't do it."

Hercules relaxed and sat back. "It's tricky. I'll get it soon." He paused then nudged Icarus. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Depends on what you mean," Icarus replied.

"You're just not very energetic. Like you usually are. Or is that fake?"

"Not fake," Icarus promised. "Not usually, at least. It ebbs and flows. I think I've hit the ground, and I'll be down here for a while."

"Okay."

"Sorry," Icarus said, giving a half smile. "I'm not going to be very fun."

"You don't have to be fun all the time," Hercules argued.

"Kid!" Phil called. "Barge will be here in fifteen minutes. You might want to rinse off."

Hercules looked down at his legs, which were covered with dirt. "He's right. Will you be okay being here today?"

Icarus shrugged. "I haven't been alone for any substantial length of time since before the accident. Momalus and Dadalus were…"

"Overprotective?" Hercules supplied gently.

Icarus nodded. "Yeah. Go on. I'll be fine. Eventually."

Hercules patted his back, jarring Icarus to his bones. It wasn't unpleasant, and he rolled his shoulders and smiled. Hercules stood up and hurried off for a rinse. Pegasus, who was nesting in a tree nearby, flapped his wings and leaped into the sky. Icarus watched him fly, and he found himself wistfully remembering the feel of the wind in his face and the stomach-swooping freedom of being in the sky. It had been terrifying and exhilarating at the same time. He hadn't felt that way since…

…aching, searing pain, burning so hot that he couldn't stand it…

…his first flight.

Icarus breathed slowly through the memory, forcing his brain to process the full thought. He didn't want to fall apart so soon. But he knew in his heart that it was inevitable.

After Hercules called a goodbye, Icarus sat overlooking the training field. Phil was working on dragging new equipment into place for a different kind of training after school. The satyr paid no mind to the boy sitting still and quiet, and Icarus liked it that way. After the equipment was in place, Phil stood back to see that everything was where it should be. That's when he saw Icarus. Icarus watched him hesitate then trot over.

"Hey, Icarus, right?" he asked.

Icarus nodded. "Yeah."

"You wanna… I don't know, talk?" Phil asked awkwardly.

"No," Icarus murmured. "Thank you though."

Phil shifted. "Okay then. Lunch will be around noon. Be back at the house."

"Sure."

Phil studied him for a moment then turned and walked away. Icarus was stunned. That was it? That was all Phil was going to do? He wasn't going to hover and cheerfully pretend everything was okay while ignoring his oddities like Tryphaina? He wasn't going to sit in silence and wait for Icarus to feel like talking, pretending that he didn't hate himself like Daedalus? He was just going to say that and leave him alone? Icarus was stunned, and he decided then and there that he liked the gruff satyr.

When Phil was gone, Icarus stood up and wandered through the training equipment. The agility course has been hastily shoved to the side, and Icarus climbed on top of a hurdle made from strong, sturdy wood and balanced there with his arms spread. He'd enjoyed climbing and performing balancing feats as a child, scaring his mother and amusing his father. He closed his eyes and stayed perfectly still, inhaling the fresh air and focusing on his body.

He used to know how every limb moved and reacted to his thoughts, but that was before the incident. He had never learned to focus on his warped body, knowing it was different and, in more ways than he'd like to admit, inferior. Still, he decided that during this time to himself he would get past his fears and do the hardest thing he was likely to ever do: face himself and what he was now.

That decided, Icarus jumped down and looked at his hands. He really looked at them for the first time since Zeus had intervened and saved his life. They were dark, almost reddish brown instead of the smooth olive tone they had been. He flexed his fingers, focusing on the way they moved. When he clenched his fists, there was a slight spasm, a bit of stiffness. He wondered absently if he could do some stretches to ease the muscles.

He carefully stretched every finger, flexing his wrists and clenching and unclenching his fists. The spasms stopped, and the stiffness eased. That had been so successful that he decided to try another stretch. He reached for the sky, arching his back as he tried to loosen his muscles. They did not loosen this time. A spasm slammed into him so hard that he made a wild noise and hit the dirt, gasping for air as the muscles in his back cramped and hurt. He lay there, trying to breathe through the pain when a concerned voice hit him.

"What's going on, kid?"

Icarus, tears streaming down his face, couldn't reply. A grating moan came from his throat as he twitched uselessly on the ground, lying on his side and staring at the woods on the other side of the clearing. Phil came over into his field of vision and looked at him.

"Is it your back?"

Icarus managed an affirmative noise. Phil disappeared then, a minute later, he felt his toga being pulled up. He didn't even have the thought to be embarrassed. He hurt too badly.

"This'll be warm, kid. Take a breath."

Icarus did then Phil touched his back. Where his hands moved, heat followed. And his back began to loosen, the muscles to relax. Icarus sucked in a large breath then choked out a sob. He tried to move but the muscles seized again.

"Just lay there for a second, Icarus," Phil soothed, pulling his toga back down. "Let it work."

Icarus breathed slowly and deeply, feeling the warmth grow warmer. Bit by bit, his back relaxed, and his twitching slowed then stopped. He was half afraid that the heat would remind him of the incident, but it wasn't painful, it was pleasant. After a few minutes, Phil came back around into his field of vision.

"Okay. Try to sit up. Here."

Phil's surprisingly strong hands grabbed his then pulled him to sit up. Icarus shuddered, expecting more pain, but there was none.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No," Icarus said quietly.

Phil nodded. "Good." He paused. "You have stuff like that happen often?"

"No. I don't usually try to move like that."

"You mean stretching?" Phil asked, frowning. "That ain't right. You should be able to stretch without your back seizing up like that."

Icarus shrugged. "What else can you expect with this?" he asked, gesturing at his body.

Phil narrowed his eyes and clicked his tongue. "Nope. No way. You ain't pulling me into that conversation. But you do need to loosen up."

"How?" Icarus asked miserably.

"I'll come up with some starting stretches," Phil replied at once. "I'll coach you through 'em. You can do them while Herc is doing his exercises in the morning and evening. But I'm going to watch you close the first few times."

Icarus stared blankly at the satyr. "Why?"

Phil looked at him with surprise on his face. "Geez, kid, you just ended up in the dirt when doing a basic stretch. I haven't ever seen somebody seize over such a simple exercise! Heavy training, yeah, it can be easy if you don't know what you're doing. But stretching? No way."

The boy shook his head. "No. Why would you help me? You're Herc's trainer, not mine."

Phil tugged on his goatee. "Herc cares about you. A lot. He says you're his best friend. And he told me that things are rough for ya right now." He shrugged. "He's got good instincts, and he's never demanded stuff like what he did last night, you know, you staying here. This is important to him. And while you're here, I'm gonna treat you like I treat all my trainees. So I'll figure out some stretches for ya."

Icarus blinked at him and felt warmth trail down his cheeks. He looked away, wiping his tears then staggered to his feet. "Thanks," he said, not looking at the satyr.

Phil smiled and nudged him with his head. "Let's get back to the house, kid. You need to relax after a spasm like that. Take it nice and slow. I'll stay with ya."

Icarus took a deep breath and began to make his way, step by step, back to the house. Every inch of him was sore, so he decided that Phil was right. He would rest for a while. Maybe after lunch he could take a walk. A slow, easy walk.

As he shuffled toward the door of the house, a large shadow passed overhead. He looked up to see Pegasus chasing a bird. He paused and watched the broad wings flapping as the horse did an aerial trick. Phil waited patiently until Icarus looked down with a wistful expression on his dark, thin face.

"Come on," Phil said gently. "You can lay in my bed until I make ya a pallet."

Icarus nodded, took one last look up into the bright blue sky, then he bowed his head and shuffled inside. He couldn't do it.

Not now, he thought. Not yet.