(A/N): So, I attempt to insert some Spanish (particularly Colombian) slang into Hercules' speech (because thats where he's from) but obviously I don't know Spanish (I did take it, but I was literally like six at most so I remember none of it), so please correct me if my usage is incorrect. I figure it can't be worse than my google translate Latin.

Disclaimer: I don't speak Spanish.

Trigger Warning: Brief discussion of self harm.

Leo

It didn't take all that long to explain all the details, but we were slowed down by various outbursts from Hercules- who apparently always thought that Jonothan was a 'rat faced, scheming traitor' and that Nicholai (which is how Herc usually referred to him) was always much too lenient and laid back when it came to his brother.

When we had first gotten into contact with Hercules right after my father had passed, we had had to leave a message for him. There were multiple correspondences back and forth between Hercules and Lisbet ( who had automatically taken on the duty to try and posthumously settle all of my fathers affairs) before the earliest time I was off school, and Hercules could get a flight a leave his clan, was ascertained to be- Christmas Holidays.

Nearly four months after we had burned his body on the funeral pyre, Hercules would finally get to visit his grave- where it was situated at the edge of the old family cemetery, at the very border of the estate grounds. Nicholai's gravestone was set apart from the others like he had wanted, and while it was the newest addition, it was also by far the most decorated.

It was mostly protected from the elements by being set into an alcove in the old field stone wall that skirted the cemetery, and permanently featured at least two candles- one on each side- at any given time. The gravestone itself, and the ground around it, was strewn with flowers of all kinds, and the stone read:

Nicholai Elijas Ellwood

Sep 2nd 1743 - Aug 14th 1975

Father, Friend, Brother and Protector

The words were in a gold toned metal embedded into the stone so that it was flush with the surface of the headstone, while the stone itself was primarily black, but had rusty veins of red running all across it, looking almost like a lightning strike, or perhaps more fittingly, blood splatter.

I think Lisbet had called it 'Aurora Granite' or something like that.

"Who'd you have to mind freak to get a slab like that made, Parce?" I barely understood half of that sentence, but I was guessing he meant who we'd had to influence to get them to ignore the fact they had to engrave someone as being over two hundred and forty years old onto a gravestone.

"Uh... You'd have to ask Lisbet about that one. She was the one who set most of it up." He nodded at the same time as he crouched down in front of the gravestone.

"Good, good. I don't have much patience for this kind of thing, so at least someone's taking care of it for you." For me? Not for us, or even, for him? He reached out and brushed his thumb across the surface of the stone. "It's a bit of a bloody mess, isn't it?" I squinted, unable to tell if he knew the stone came like that, or if there was actual blood on it somewhere we had all missed.

"What is?" He turned his head to look at me, and I realised he didn't mean the stone at all.

"Us? This family? The whole damn world, even. Our uncle killed our father because he was steamed that their parents treated him better over two hundred years ago. We're only here together because we're the two most recent illegitimate, half breed children of said father, who was only alive to have children because said homicidal brother turned him into a vampire into the first place. It's an utter poop show." Well, that's some information I didn't know. And maybe didn't want to know.

"Well... I mean... you're not wrong." His face split into a big grin.

"You're funny, Mono." What does that mean?

"...Is that good?" Hercules shrugged.

"Keeps things from getting boring, certainly." He rocked back on his heels. "They treating you right, littler brother?" Huh? What did that mean?

"Who?" I asked tentatively, feeling like we were having two completely separate conversations, and not for the first time this evening.

"Them. The others. Now that we're along, I wanting to make sure they're doing right by you." Oh. "I want to make sure I do right by you." Everything in his demeanor told me he was being sincere, and I felt my expression soften.

"Yeah, Herc. They're treating me right." Better than I was treating myself, at least-

"Do they know?" I blinked. Could he read my thoughts or something?

"What do you-?" He grimaced.

"Its not obvious- not to those who don't know what to look for- but I've been around too many people throughout my lifetime who have taken their grief and rage out on themselves." My jaw snapped shut, and I crossed my arms over my chest.

"I don't-" In a flash he was on his feet in front of me, my shirt in his fist, a few inches higher than I would like it, revealing the still tender scars left over from the last time I had hurt myself. "Hey!" I smacked the fabric out of his hand, and he gave me a sad smile I absolutely hated.

"Figured it had to be either the torso or the legs, since you're happily not wearing sleeves-" I cut him off.

"I don't want to hear it- the telling me its wrong, the begging me to stop- I don't want to hear it." He held his hands up, not in a placating gesture, but a 'come at me' one.

"I'm not here to say anything, Leo. All I ask, is that if you ever feel like hurting yourself while I am here, you hurt me instead." I rolled my eyes.

"I'm not going to use you as a punching bag, Herc." In an instant I was on my back, only feeling his blow after the fact.

"And I'm not going to be your punching bag, Parce." He reached out a hand to help me up.

"You want to spar?" He blinked.

"'Spar'? Pelea- Punch, but not really angry?" I shrugged.

"To spar means to fight someone for the purposes of training, rather than to actually inflict damage." He nodded quickly, and put his fists up. "Okay, but I have to warn you, I've been told I'm stronger than I look."

(A/N):

Translations (Colombian Spanish):

Parce = friend, mate, dude, bro

Mono = I know it means monkey in Spanish but apparently in Colombia they use it to mean 'blonde'. I basically wanted Herc to call Leo 'Blondie' without Leo knowing.

Pelea = fight.

This chapter has had a minor edit made to it on 26/4/23 - Added the trigger warning.