After another typical night of memories and terror, Icarus was roused again by Hercules just after daybreak. He sat up and scrubbed his eyes, yawning. Hercules had taken the interruption in the middle of the night better the second time, and he smiled at Icarus before dropping down through the hole in the statue. Icarus followed and managed to stay on his feet, which pleased him.

The two boys walked into the kitchen to find a hearty breakfast waiting on the table. Icarus plopped down and dug in as Phil carried a platter of fried grass over for himself. As Phil took a large bite of his food, he studied Icarus. Once he swallowed, he spoke. "Alright you two. I got this morning planned. Herc, you'll be reviewing agility again. You've gotta get through that obstacle course." Hercules nodded, and then Phil surprised the demigod by turning to look at Icarus. "As for you, I've got several easy exercises for you to loosen up your muscles. We'll work our way up to more difficult stretches as we go."

"You're training Icarus?" Hercules asked, stunned.

"Just teachin' him some basic stretches. He hit the dirt and couldn't move for ten minutes after a stretch yesterday."

Compassion flashed across Hercules's face. "I'm sorry about that, Icarus."

Icarus was embarrassed, and he kept his eyes on his plate. "It's fine."

"Don't be like that," Hercules said gently. "It's okay to need help."

"You can say that because you constantly save the school."

Hercules snorted. "I need all the help I can get, Icarus."

Icarus glanced at him then smiled as he remembered Hercules's difficulty in shop class. "Okay then."

After breakfast, they headed to the field. Icarus stood back as Phil began to direct Hercules in his training. When Hercules had tripped his way through the course once, Phil told him to go again then turned to Icarus.

"Alright, kid. Take a seat, legs crossed." Icarus obeyed, staring expectantly at the satyr. "Good. Now sit up straight. Slowly twist to the left. Right hand on your knee. Yep, left hand supporting your back. There ya go! Now hold it. Keep breathing. Count to twenty then return to the center. Do it again on the other side."

Just that simple exercise made tears leap to Icarus's eyes, and he sucked in and held his breath.

"Breathe, kid. If it hurts too much, loosen it a bit."

Icarus twisted slightly more toward the center and his muscles relaxed a bit. He sighed, holding the position until he got to twenty then rotated back to center. He swallowed and looked up to see Hercules, dirty and sweaty, staring with great concern at his tear-streaked face.

Icarus flushed and looked down. "And… this is why I don't like gym," he muttered.

"You need work, kid," Phil said quietly. "I've got ya. You'll be fine. Other side now. As for you, Herc, run it again."

"I need another hurdle…" Hercules said, smiling guiltily and gesturing to splintered wood.

Phil slapped his forehead and groaned. "You're killing me, kid. Wait here and watch him do the other side. Go on, Icarus."

Icarus was very aware of Hercules watching as he slowly twisted to the side and positioned his hands. A spasm ran up his back, and he sucked in a breath and twisted back a little. He counted quietly then straightened and shivered, looking down as he wiped his streaming eyes. He wished for a moment that he was unable to cry again, but then he remembered that crying was a good thing.

"Does it really hurt?" Hercules asked.

"Pretty bad," Icarus admitted. "But it's got to get better, right?"

Hercules beamed. "Yeah! You're getting it. Training is hard, but it makes you better."

Icarus shrugged one shoulder. "Still not a fan of gym."

"Yeah. It's horrible with Adonis making fun of… things."

Hercules turned a little red, and Icarus smiled bitterly. "At least they don't say that you'll never be married because you have nothing to offer a lover."

For a moment, Hercules looked startled. "What?"

"I'm fried, remember? Every bit of me. As they enjoy laughing about. Loudly. In front of girls." Icarus looked down at the ground and picked at the grass, sadness appearing in his eyes. "And I don't know if they're right," he said softly.

"Icarus…" Hercules said gently.

"Please don't," Icarus said. "Because neither of us knows what's true in this case."

Phil strode back over. "Okay, Herc. Get to it."

Hercules looked at Icarus, so subdued and sad, and he wanted to help. But he just didn't know how. "It'll be okay, Icarus."

Icarus looked up and gave a small smile. "I know. Just don't know how it'll go."

After several more painful stretches, it was time for Hercules to rinse off. Icarus, covered in a sheen of sweat from the little movement he'd done, decided to rinse off, too. He followed Hercules to a screened-off section of a creek and was startled to see that there wasn't even a washtub. His Dadalus had invented an incredible water system that made showering possible without rain or waterfalls, and it was warm. But Hercules contentedly stripped off and wiped himself off with a rag. Icarus followed suit, a bit shy and unsure, but mostly curious about what he could do to improve the situation.

After Hercules made a mad dash for the school barge, Icarus walked back to the clearing by the stream and began to think. He measured with his eyes and then his hands, then he went to find Phil. The satyr was heaving around equipment to arrange the afternoon's lesson.

"Can I build something?"

"What?" Phil huffed and wiped his brow. "I don't care. Why?"

"I need some materials."

"There's junk all over this island," Phil said. "Look around. The tide brings trash and all sorts of things to the shores."

"Okay," Icarus said.

And he strode into the woods. He spent the morning gathering materials, including a large metal pot, plenty of timber, and lengths of rope and hollow tubes. He found some tools inside Phil's shed and he carried them over and began to work. The morning wore away as he attached and tied, his clever fingers strong yet delicate as they performed tasks. He fell into the sharp white light of focus he tried to avoid most of the time. And as he worked, he thought.

He thought of his life Before, the time that he considered golden and wonderful and perfect. Instead of brushing across memories and cringing away, afraid to see the difference, he focused into the light, peering with more mature eyes into his childhood, and actually looked at what he saw. And he remembered new things.

He remembered arguments heard through the walls late at night. He remembered his father holing up for days as a new idea sparked and his mother complaining about being lonely instead of being interested. He remembered his mother dragging his father to social events and how miserable Dadalus had been while Momalus fluttered around the room and talked business. He remembered small annoyances, many misunderstandings, big disappointments, and all the things he hadn't been aware of at the time.

But he also remembered good things. He remembered his first little project, a little handle that was attached to a rope, and when he tugged on it, he could tip a cup of water into the Big Tall Plant that Momalus kept in the living room. Dadalus had been so proud and had taken the family out to eat at an inn, a rare treat that Icarus had enjoyed immensely. He remembered painting a pretty pattern on a vase in the junior academy for a present and it had been the best in the class, and his Momalus beaming and so happy and proud of her talented son. She had treated him with his own party and so many little friends had swarmed the house and Icarus had also enjoyed the party.

As he remembered the good and the bad, he found his heart aching as he realized for the first time that he wasn't the reason for his parents' divorce. His accident was the final straw in a long list of grievances in an increasingly unhappy marriage. It was a relief to know that, but to know for sure, he needed to ask his Dadalus and Momalus to talk with him and explain what actually happened. And he wasn't ready to go back home yet.

"Icarus?"

Icarus jumped, his eyes leaping up to see Hercules standing above him, concern in his eyes.

"Herc! School's over? Already?"

"Um, yeah? It always lets out at three."

Icarus looked around and noticed at once that it was afternoon. His stomach snarled for food and he was incredibly thirsty.

"Oh. Sorry. I was working. Guess I lost track of time."

"Working on… this?"

Hercules looked at the strange contraption. Icarus had tubes connected in a long line that arched into a metal pot with holes in it turned upside down. A large tub made of wood was beneath it, and a hole was in one side at the bottom. Hercules could see a hole in the ground below and wondered where it led.

"Um, what is it?" Hercules finally asked.

Icarus sat up straight. "I'd rather not say yet, Herc. It's a surprise. I think I'll finish it tomorrow while you're at school. What's up?"

"Phil sent me to look for you. It's time for afternoon practice. So you're stretching again."

Icarus grimaced and shivered but nodded. "You trust him, so I will. Even if it hurts."

Hercules smiled a lopsided grin. "Sometimes training hurts. I should know."

Icarus laughed, and there was more energy to that laugh than the past two days combined. Icarus's eyes shone and there was a pool of energy, somewhat unnatural but not overwhelmingly so. Hercules saw Icarus for the first time since the fight at school. And a tension he hadn't even been aware of melted away. Icarus would be okay. He knew it. And if he was a little different? So what? Hercules liked Icarus for who he was, and if that changed a little, he could handle that.

Icarus tried to stand and gasped as a spasm of pain shot from his knees to his toes. He hit his knees, groaning. Hercules helped him up, holding most of his weight until Icarus could stand again.

"Sat still too long," he rasped, brushing tears from his eyes. "I'll be okay."

"Let's get you to Phil. I'll convince him to give you some herbal cream for your muscles."

"Okay."

It turned out that Hercules didn't have to convince Phil of anything. When the satyr saw Icarus staggering over beside Hercules, he slapped his forehead.

"Eh, kid, you're killing me! What happened?"

"Sat still for too long," Icarus said, refusing to look at Phil as he fought back embarrassment.

Phil looked at Hercules and sighed. "You're a mess kid. I'll give ya some more of that cream you can put on before bed tonight. Should help. Okay? Now do you feel up to a couple stretches?"

"A couple? Yeah. I think I can do a couple."

Phil scrutinized him then nodded. "Wait here. Herc, come on. It's archery this afternoon."

After both boys had finished their lessons, they hurried to wash off before dinner. At the meal, Phil studied Icarus.

"Why didn't you come for lunch?"

Icarus smiled. "I was working. I lose track of time like that sometimes. I get it from my Dadalus."

"Working," Phil said. "Working on something or working through something?"

Icarus looked at Phil and shrugged one shoulder. "Both."

"Okay then. Just let me know where you're working tomorrow. I'll come and get ya for lunch."

"Sure thing," Icarus said.

He was glad he'd get to work on the project again tomorrow. He had so much more to think about, and as painful as it was, he knew it would be good for him. He also knew he would have no trouble sleeping that night. The memories would be there, yes. But he felt for the first time in years that he was moving forward. It felt good.