Now that I got a semi-blurb up, here's an actual chapter. A nice insomnia fueled chapter! Because sleep is for the weak! Also my fucking spellcheck isn't working so pardon spelling and grammar errors. Once I figure out how to turn it back on in Microsoft Word I will edit this chapter and re-post it.

Sheep: I agree, Hercules isn't one for spontanaiety. However, I feel the stress of the storm, of leaving a very worried Meg behind, he felt impulsed to try and soothe her with affection as he is not exactly good with words. As to one of your other comments: I am not abandoning any story, the variety is actually what keeps me going. I am rewriting a story because people BEGGED ME not to give up on Reopened Wounds. I hate that story, my writing when I wrote it was aweful. So to continue the story I decided to rewrite it.

The icy wind stung Hercules's exposed skin, the meager cloak failing to offer adequate protection. Half-blinded by the wind he strained to see more than an arm's length away, placing his trust in Pegasus to reach their destination and ducked his head down, burying his face into the beast's mane. It felt as if the flight took hours, worry and discomfort distorting his sense of time. He felt the jarring impact of a clumsy landing, and lifted his head to see he was at his parent's doorstep. He could smell the burning wood from outside, and managed to convince himself to calm.

"I'll be back boy," he promised, rubbing Pegasus's nose and turned to the door. Like the stable wind and snow coated the wood in a thick layer of ice. Not wanting to destroy his parents' door he pulled his hunting knife from his belt to carve away at the barrier. "Mom! Pop! It's me! Hercules! I just have to get some ice off the door!" The howling wind nearly muted their reply, but he was able to identify that it was their voices. The cold numbed his fingers, making his movements awkward and clumsy. One hand was braced against the door, as he struggled with the knife. He could hardly feel the handle, and his body began to tremble violently with shivers. The knife slipped, and sliced cleanly through the tissue of his wrist just below his thumb. "Damn!" He dropped the knife, watching as the blood stained the fresh snow. His hand was blissfully numb from the cold, dulling the pain and the bleeding. His cloak was too valuable to tear into bandages, and he was forced to ignore the wound. He picked up the knife with his left hand, cursing under his breath as he resumed his work.

Even with his strength carving out the ice took far longer than he would have liked. His fingertips were white, the shivering jerking his hands awkardly as he bit his tongue to keep his teeth from chattering. With the ice carved away he pulled the door, feeling the snow resist opening the door. Inside his parents had been sitting close to the fire, mirroring the sight he had left at home. The couple looked up at their son; his face pale and his lips blue, blood dripping from a gash in his wrist. His ginger hair was coated in ice, his wind-burned cheeks bright red.

"Son!"

"Hercules!" His parents rushed to him as he tugged the door closed behind him, cutting off the blistering wind that brought a penetrating chill to the small home. He had purchased his parents a large villa, but they felt a sentimental attatchment to this small shack. They collided with him, and he happily embraced them, pulling them both closely to his chest.

'I'm so happy you're both safe! I was worried with this storm, and it's so early in the year I didn't think you would have enough firewood to keep a fire going…"

"Son, your hand," Amphityon murmored, lifting his wounded limb.

"Oh! Herc! Let me take care of that for you!" Alcmene chimed, fluttering her hands at him with tears flushing her eyes.

"I'm okay, really. Just a bad cut. I'm here to bring you back to the villa, I always keep firewood stockpiled… besides something about this storm just feels weird. I'd feel better if I knew you guys were safe at the villa,"

"It's just a snowstorm, we've bore many in our years," his father rebuked, turning to watch Alcmene rifle through some belongings looking for a way to tend to Hercules's wound.

"It's not exactly the time of year for this. And it never even snows like this in winter!" He defended, feeling his anxiety grow. He wasn't expecting them to resist coming back to the villa. His mother rushed back holding a needle and thread.

"How did you managet this?" She asked, blotting away the blood with a cloth and attempting to sew the wound shut.

"I was carving the ice away to open your door. My hand must have slipped," He looked down, seeing the ragged fur of the old mule Penelope. "Well hey there old girl," he rubbed behind her ears, and the old animal almost looked like she was smiling at him. His parents had often brought her inside during winter so she wouldn't freeze, the shack would forever smell of mule. But growing up in poverty you did what you had to to survive. But despite the hardship, he loved his childhood home.

"Oh, my little one... I'll fix you right up," Hercules sighed at the nickname. She had called him that throughout childhood, and long after he had surpassed her in height. She doted on his hand, crudely sewing the wound shut while he argued with his father over going back to his villa.

"Mom, Pop, please… I'd feel much better knowing you're safe. Something about this storm feels wrong," Fear was beginning to overhwelm him, and the resulting loss of control began to make the fear worse.

"Honey, maybe he's right," Alcmene interjected, stopping the argument between her son and husband. She was satisfied with her stitching job, and went in search of herbs to help stave infection so she could wrap his hand. "We don't have much firewood, we just chop what we need for a few days we havent't stockpiled yet," the elder man sighed, seeing the concern in their faces. Accepting defeat, he agreed to return to the villa.

"Thank you," Hercules hugged his father, and then his mother when she returned to finsih bandaging his hand. "I have to get this girl from the coastal district. It'll be easier if I bring her here then we make a few trips to my villa…" he trailed off, thinking of all the people huddled in their homes. How many were freezing, struggling to stay warm? Was Phil safe, trapped on his island? How can I rescue Phil. Megara was right, if Pegasus tries to fly across the sea in this we'll crash. I'm surprised we made it here. I don't even know if I can get Cassandra's friend. He bit his lip. His mother saw the concern written on his face and hugged him again, holding him tight, rubbing his back as she would when she soothed his fears as a child.

"You can't save everyone Hercules, people have firewood, there are plenty of trees around in an emergency. People will be okay," She assured him, having a faith in people's ability to tend to their needs that Hercules did not.

"I at least need to find that girl, I promised Cassandra,"

"Cassandra? The prophet of doom? Is that why you're so frightened, did she see something?" the confidence in her voice diminished,

"No, just a weird coincidence her and Ikarus came to visit…" He paused, Oh Gods. I never told them about Meg! The never even knew she was pregnant… 'bad luck to tell people too early' he hesitated, wondering if he should bring it up. If they came to the villa they would clearly see she was not herself. "Meg… she…" He hesitated, recalling finding her on the floor

"Is she alright?" Alcmene asked hesitantly, thinking about her beloved daughter-in-law. She had become enamoured with the woman from the day Hercules had introduced her. A bit of a spit-fire, but she made her son happier than she had evern seen him.

"She… had a miscarriage. She bled… a lot. Umm… still is, but she's okay. Well, umm… as okay as you can expect… it's why Ikarus and Cassandra came to visit," He stammered, finding it difficult to have to again acknowledge the loss of their first pregnancy.

"Oh Gods…" She hugged him again, and he felt the firm hand of his father against his back, "I'm so sorry dear, a miscarraige is always difficult. But Megara… she's… alright? You said she bled a lot…" She had lost a dear friend to a hemmorhage, and it was how her own mother had died. It was an unfortunately common event, and the thought of Megara enduring such a fate wretched her heart with fear,

"She's okay. She's a tough one… she won't even stay in bed. She'll be fine. It's just been… difficult," Hercules explained, alleviating her fear. "She'll deny it up and down, but I think company cheers her up. I think seeing you guys will make her feel better," He smiled. She was feircely independent, but he knew her well enough to know that she enjoyed the company of others although she would never admit it.

"Oh thank the Gods…"

"I'll be back fast. Stay warm," he wanted to divert the conversation, he could feel tears stinging at this eyes. The warmth was beginning to return to his limbs, making his fingers nose and toes burn as if he had touched hot embers. He wanted to get back into the storm before he grew too comfortable.

"Stay safe son…" Both parents worried, and hugged him before watching him struggle through the door once more. Hercules looked outside for Pegasus, straining his eyes but his friend was out of sight. He whistled, the sound carrying poorly. A breif break in the wind allowed him to see the stable where their mule Penelope was spending her retirement years. He marshed through thich-deep snow, with drifts reaching his shoulders. He whistled again, hoping it would carry adequately. He heard the vague echo of a tweet, and whistled again. This time his companion seemed to hear, and emerged from the kicked-down door of the stables.

"Come on Pegasus, Let's get Amarantha so we can go home," His friend snorted agreement, and they started back through the storm.

I hope this update was adequate… I originally wanted to just complete Hercules getting Amara and his parents back to the villa but I have been awake for just about 20 hours and I can't think anymore. I just hope this chapter is up to snuff, considering how #$%ing tired I am writing it…