Hopeful

by Swiss
Author's notes: A Young Hercules drabble, drawn from watching adolescent Herc run around seeking daddy'€™s approval. I was disappointed by the last episode when Hercules met Zeus in a mortal guise and didn'€™t recognize him in time for the conversation I wanted them to have. This is me envisioning a might have been for that episode. Because creepy, ulterior-motive Zeus is much cooler than emotionally-constipated-father-figure Zeus.

Title: Hopeful Author: Swiss (dragonswissarmyknife@hotmail.com) Characters: Hercules, Zeus, Iolaus Challenge: #18 - Hope Summary: [Young Hercules - "Vally of the Shaddow"] Hercules gets the conversation he'd always wanted from his father, and learns some things he would rather not have known.

For his entire life, Hercules had longed to meet his father. He'd risked his life - and the lives of his friends - more than once in his desperate quest to see him. He didn't miss the irony that when he finally got the chance, those lives were almost the sacrifice he'd been required to make for the experience. And he hadn't been willing to pay it.

They'd all lived, no thanks to Zeus. The god had very deliberately put them in peril. Hercules wasn't prepared when his blood had frozen in his chest seeing Iolaus in the hands of that beast, or the way the anticipation he'd been building had dried up into a frenzy of helpless panic. Panic...

But they'd lived.

Hercules still hadn't recovered his heart by the time they four of them were huddled around a low burning fire that night. Sick with might-have-beens, he managed to keep the trembling, terrified rage behind his teeth until Theseus and Iolaus had dropped off and he was left sitting alone with the mortal who wasn't mortal. Who was his father.

He muttered softly, "You might have killed him." Iolaus. He might have killed Iolaus.

"Hm. He's alright, isn't he?" the manifestation grunted carelessly.

"No thanks to you." He looked to the cacophony of curls curled close, almost lost in the large, heavy cloak Aegeus had dropped carelessly around him. He could only see half his face in the firelight, but gazed at him with affection that he didn't bother to veil.

"Do you like him so much?" there was a curl of his lips, twitching upward against weathered grey grizzle. The aged yellow of rotted teeth just showed, truly hideous in his mortal facade.

Hercules's face drained of emotion, carefully impassive. Half of him terrified of what he may have revealed, the other half knowing he couldn't have hid it from this...Being...anyway. But his heart still beat hard.

Gods didn't care what advantage they took to get their way. And he didn't want any of them - even his father - meddling with Iolaus' life.

"Too late, boy," Zeus chuckled out of the mouth of the old man, and it was a cruel kind of sound to the ears of his son. The half-cocked smile was back, crocked on his face, like an old scar. He offered, "It's good that you're fond of him."

"What business is it of yours?" Hercules wanted to know. He was unaware that he had drawn back instinctively, further into the fire's orangey light and closer to where his friend slept.

The god looked up at him, a dim amusement in his eyes. "I gave him to you, didn't I?"

Ignoring the way his child had whitened, he continued offhandedly, "One of my poorer gifts to my children, perhaps. But you were just a little child, and I had to be careful. Besides, what would you have done with a chariot of fiery horses, eternal youth, a weapon, or a kingdom. No, you weren't ready for something of the gods. So, I gave you something of the mortal world." His eye trailed behind Hercules to the smaller sleeping youth, a wry expression snaking it way onto his face. "And he's been better than expected, hasn't he? A very loyal animal."

It took much of the will in his body to keep the dawning fear and horror locked wordless behind his teeth. He shifted between his father and Iolaus, cutting his friend from the god's sight. "He," was said with high emotion, just contained, "Is my best friend."

And Zeus looked at him - half gentle affection and something like pride, half patronizing him, as if he'd spoken naively, like a infant. Then he looked away, back to the fish he'd been idly cleaning, as if he needed the brutish tools and the corporal hands. "You're still a child, son. But one day you'll understand. And you'll always have the boy, as long as he lives. I made him for you."

"Iolaus belongs to himself and no one else!"

"Oh?" The being was looking at him, with eyes that could see through him.

"Leave," Hercules hissed. When his father blinked at him, seemingly incredulous at the command, he shouted, "Leave!"

For a moment longer he suffered under that measured, measuring look. A look at seemed to say, `are you sure, after all this time searching?' But Hercules was not so nave as he had been just hours before. Seeming to read this in the coldness of his eyes, his father grinned and gave a nod. Then, the man was simply gone, without even a wisp of smoke or a lingering sparkle.

Hercules whispered after him, hoarse with his fear and anger, "And stay away from him."

"Herc," the voice from beside the fire drew his eyes. Iolaus moved underneath the clock, stirring. Hercules went to sit beside him, frowning with some worry. He had taken some hard blows today. It was natural for him to sleep, but...

He shook the other youth gently by the shoulder, "Iolaus. Can you open your eyes for a moment."

Wincing a bit, the other slowly drug open soft blue eyes that seemed dazed and cranky and very, very tired. He shivered slightly in spite of the heavy cloth and shifted so that he could sink against his friend's shoulder. Hercules smiled when he sighed deep, settling against the warm weight of his friend as though he were in a soft bed, safe at home.

As he put his arm around him, the younger man's mind drifted to his father and he felt a catch in his throat that he couldn't swallow. Fear again, fear always. But also a stubborn protectiveness. He didn't care what Zeus had intended for Iolaus. They'd never abided by the plans of the gods anyway.

And sitting there beside his friend, he pondered his father's "gift" with a sense of something like wonder. Wonder, that in spite of all of his intentions, Zeus may have finally given a gift that came out right. Indeed, that was greater than the god could ever have imagined.

Home, happiness, and love. For him, they were all tied up here, in this body snoring lightly beside him, pillowed against his shoulder as if he belonged there.

And by fate or design, maybe he did.

Despite their thoughtlessness, Hercules found it was almost hopeful that sometimes the gods could do great things accidentally. It was hopeful. Though what that said for his world he didn't know.

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