Atlantis 1. Chapter 1

A/N This is the sequel to Invictus. It _could_ be read as a stand alone story but will probably make a lot more sense if you have read Invictus first!

As before this is not a slash story.

I _still_ don't own anything - that pleasure belongs solely to the BBC.

Please be kind to me and review :-)

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_**Where The Wind Blows**_

_"There's an east wind coming, Watson."_

_"I think not, Holmes. It is very warm." _

_"Good old Watson! You are the one fixed point in a changing age. There's an east wind coming all the same, such a wind as never blew on England yet. It will be cold and bitter, Watson, and a good many of us may wither before its blast. But it's God's own wind none the less, and a cleaner, better, stronger land will lie in the sunshine when the storm has cleared." _

_(Arthur Conan Doyle – His Last Bow)_

* * *

"Did I tell you about when I wrestled the Nemean Lion?" Hercules boomed as the three of them set off down the dusty street towards home.

Feeling more benevolent towards the big man's tall tales than he usually did – largely it had to be said as a result of the danger they had all been in recently and the disaster they had narrowly averted – Pythagoras chose not to say that, yes, Hercules had told him the story of his victory over the Nemean Lion on many occasions and that it got wilder with each retelling. Really, Pythagoras wouldn't be at all surprised if the lion had actually been a very small, very docile kitten and if Hercules, far from wrestling it, had actually stolen its lunch – although the tale of how Hercules stole lunch from the Nemean Kitten had less of a ring to it than how Hercules wrestled the Nemean Lion. Smiling brightly the young genius clapped his older friend on the shoulder.

"No," he said indulgently. "I don't think I've heard that one."

Needing no further prompting Hercules launched into his story.

Trotting alongside his friends, Jason did try to keep up with Hercules' tale. The big man could be an entertaining storyteller and although his narrations were clearly massively embellished they were nearly always amusing. The problem was that Jason's energy was severely waning and he found himself struggling to concentrate. After he had visited the temple yesterday evening and been spoken to by the King, the young man had spent the rest of the night wandering the streets almost aimlessly, mind too full to let him rest. Added to that was the simple fact that he had not really slept or eaten properly in days – had been surviving on pure adrenaline and now that adrenaline surge was fading rapidly. It was all he could do to keep walking in the right direction and to remember how to put one foot in front of the other – he certainly had no concentration left for Hercules' tale. He wasn't that far off dropping where he stood, and the feeling that the fatigue gave him was almost like being drunk – the inability to concentrate or walk in a straight line accompanied by a feeling of light-headedness that was almost euphoric. Jason grinned to himself brightly and tried to focus his bleary eyes.

As Hercules' tale continued, Pythagoras glanced across at his other friend and frowned. Jason clearly wasn't watching where he was going and several people had already had to dive out of his way before he walked right into them. As he lurched towards a fruit stall, stumbling over his own feet, the mathematician reached out and grabbed him, more than a little concerned – it was not like Jason to trip over his own feet, that was more the sort of thing that Pythagoras would do. As the young genius slipped an arm firmly around his friend's waist he felt Jason stiffen and try to pull away, hissing slightly. Pythagoras' frown deepened.

"What is wrong?" he asked, clutching Jason's shoulders and turning the young man to face him.

"It's nothing," Jason answered vaguely, squinting as he tried to focus on Pythagoras. "It's just a bit tender that's all."

Pythagoras instantly dropped his hand down from Jason's shoulder and started trying to probe his side for injuries. Jason yelped and pulled back out of the way, narrowly avoiding tripping over a man selling watermelons.

"I'm fine," he said firmly, batting away the mathematician's hands, a little more awake thanks to his friend.

Hercules' story had trailed off and the large man had stopped, turning to look between his two companions with concern.

"Is he alright?" he asked the young genius.

Pythagoras ignored his older friend as he concentrated on his younger one. He knew only too well that Jason was not always forthcoming with information when it pertained to his own health and had no intention of missing anything important because of the brunette's reticence. He pursed his lips.

"When we get home I want to check your wounds," he stated.

Jason rolled his eyes.

"I'm fine," he insisted once again, trying to stifle a yawn.

"You received a head injury less than two days ago, Jason," Pythagoras pointed out, raising an eyebrow. "I would worry less if you would allow me to make sure you are alright." He looked at his dark haired friend appealingly.

Jason sighed in defeat. The one thing he would never want to do was worry his friends. After he had recovered from that bad bout of flu a few months ago, Hercules had impressed upon him in no uncertain terms that keeping secrets about his health from his friends was unacceptable. Apparently pushing himself so hard that he collapsed was something that was not to be repeated under any circumstances – even if they had been successful in taking down the merchant, Dakos, as a result. Hercules had made sure that the boy had known just how much he had worried the mathematician and that he would not be allowed to do that again – Pythagoras worried about life enough as it was. The lecture he had received from the large man had been one of the most awkward and embarrassing experiences of Jason's young life and he had no wish to repeat it any time soon. Seeing the big wrestler looking at him speculatively now, eyes narrowing thoughtfully, Jason nearly groaned, suddenly absolutely certain that he was going to be on the receiving end of one of Hercules' periodic well-meaning lectures in the near future.

"Well you can't do anything in the street," Hercules said to Pythagoras, reaching out and gently but firmly grasping Jason's arm. "Let's go home and you can check him over."

Jason wanted to protest that they really shouldn't be talking about him as if he wasn't there, but he was far too busy trying to avoid tripping over his own feet as the big man all but dragged him down the street, never relaxing his grasp on the boy's arm. Exhaustion washed over him once again and he struggled both to stay on his feet and just to stay awake as they made the short journey towards their home.

By the time they reached the front door of the house, Jason had most definitely entered the cranky stage of tiredness, which his friends noted with both amusement and exasperation. For a usually easy-going young man, he had the tendency to turn into a grumpy toddler when he was overtired. Irritated by the stream of snarky comments coming from the boy, Hercules almost hauled him in through the door and deposited him on a bench with the instruction to stay there until told otherwise. Jason folded his arms and pouted at the floor. He knew he was behaving like a brat but his sleep deprived brain was unable to focus enough to tell him how he should be acting and he was cross that his friends seemed determined not to let him go to bed. It wasn't helping that he had a headache too – the result of both his own extreme fatigue and what was in all likelihood a slight concussion from the blow to the head he had received. He looked up at Pythagoras' tired sigh, immediately contrite at having once again apparently upset his friend.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm just really tired."

Pythagoras smiled softly.

"I know," he answered. "Let me check your wounds and then you can get to bed."

With trembling fingers Jason fumbled awkwardly with the lacings on his breastplate. Noticing that he was seriously struggling to make his fingers work properly, Pythagoras came forward and batted the brunette's hands out of the way.

"Let me," he said, deftly untying the cords and slipping the leather armour over his friend's head. He repeated the action with Jason's wrist cuffs, knowing that the young man didn't like to sleep in them. Then he stood back and looked hard at his friend, checking for any obvious visible injuries. The bruise on his temple was already turning an impressive array of colours and Pythagoras was in no doubt that Jason in all probability had a fairly bad headache as a result. Aside from some cuts and scrapes to his arms that were the result of his fight with Circe, there was nothing else that Pythagoras could immediately see and he started to relax. As Jason fidgeted on the bench, however, the blonde's quick eyes caught the glimpse of a patch of dried blood near the hem of his tunic. In an instant he was there, gentle and confident hands raising the edge of the garment to see what lay beneath before Jason could stop him. On seeing the inexpertly tied bandage around his friend's waist, spots of dried blood showing through it, Pythagoras frowned deeply.

"Jason?" he asked. "What is this?"

Jason looked down at himself in apparent confusion.

"Oh that," he said sleepily on seeing the bandage. "I got shot when I was trying to get away from the Palace the other night after I failed to kill the Queen." He blinked owlishly at Pythagoras, taking in the mathematician's worried frown blearily.

"You were shot?" Hercules growled from the other side of the room. "And you didn't think to tell us?"

Jason bit his lip, more than a little embarrassed.

"I forgot," he confessed.

"Forgot being shot?" Pythagoras could not help the disbelieving note that came into his voice.

"There was so much going on," Jason defended himself. "First I was trying to get away from the Palace. Then I ended up spending the night in Ariadne's room. Then there was the business with Circe when we were all trying to think of a way to defeat her. And then Ariadne's life was in danger and we had to rescue her from the brazen bull... with all that going on I forgot I'd been shot. I would have told you when I remembered, honestly." He was almost pleading with his friends to understand that he had not on this occasion intended to keep anything from them. "Besides, it was alright," he added, brightening noticeably, "Ariadne bandaged it for me."

Pythagoras narrowly resisted the urge to roll his eyes and perhaps smack Jason around the head.

"And did she clean it?" he asked patiently.

"I think so," Jason frowned trying to force his fuzzy brain into action. "She had some water and cloths and stuff."

Pythagoras sighed as he started to unwrap the bandage. Clearly getting sense out of Jason when he was this sleepy was going to be a serious challenge. He frowned again. The blood which had seeped through the bandage at some point had dried, sticking the cloth firmly to Jason's skin. Pythagoras was loathe to pull at it in case he reopened the wound beneath but knew that he needed to remove it. Before he could move any further a bowl of water and a cloth appeared at his elbow and he looked up to see the knowing face of Hercules nodding at him. The mathematician nearly smiled. He had lived with the big man for so long now that they knew each other's moves without even needing to think about it and could anticipate each others needs when the situation demanded. He nodded his thanks to Hercules and picked up the cloth, using it to soak the blood-stained dressing around his other friend's waist before carefully peeling back the bandage. The wound was low on Jason's side, only just above his hip. Pythagoras was pleased to note that it looked clean. Still it would not hurt to be cautious so he gently cleaned it again, wiping a fresh damp cloth over the site, being careful not to reopen the wound and make it bleed again. Jason flinched slightly at the touch and bit his lip. Satisfied that the wound was as clean as it could be and was likely to heal well, Pythagoras stepped away from the table and moved over to the shelves, gathering medicinal herbs to aid healing and soft bandages. As he turned back he noted that Jason had folded his arms on the table top and had dropped his head onto them slumbering where he sat. Pythagoras smiled. All three of them had gone short on sleep lately but at least he and Hercules had managed a full night's sleep last night – it was clear that Jason hadn't and was now just about ready to drop. The mathematician almost hated to wake his friend but Jason would be a lot more comfortable sleeping in his bed – if he stayed where he was he was likely to end up with a stiff back. Besides which Pythagoras really needed him to be sitting upright to re-bandage the arrow wound. Feeling more than a little guilty, he stepped forward and placed his hand on the brunette's shoulder.

"Jason," he said softly. "You can not sleep there. Sit up for me."

His dark haired friend raised his head with an irritated groan, blinking at Pythagoras in sleepy confusion. He gave an unintelligible grumble which the blonde suspected might contain more than a few curse words, but did as he was asked and pushed himself up into a sitting position. Pythagoras grinned and shook his head as he packed the small gash in his friend's side with medicinal herbs, placing a small pad of cloth over the wound and finishing off by winding a soft bandage around Jason's waist.

"Are you finished?" Jason asked a little grumpily.

"Yes," Pythagoras answered.

"Good," Jason responded. "Because I don't think I can stay awake much longer. I'm very tired."

Hercules rolled his eyes.

"Go to bed then you fool," Hercules said without any rancour.

Jason blinked sleepily.

"Goodnight then," he said as he stood up, smiling vaguely at his two friends.

"Sleep well my friend," Pythagoras responded with a smile as Jason wandered off towards the alcove that contained his bed. He dropped face first onto his bed with a soft flump, asleep almost as soon as he dropped.

* * *

Dinner at the Palace was an awkward affair. The Queen sat in silence alongside her husband, still as regal and elegant as ever but far more subdued than any of the servants had ever seen her. The Princess Ariadne, seated on the other side of her father, was no less quiet and the two women avoided looking at each other wherever possible. It was well known within the Palace that Pasiphae and Ariadne hated one another and that the only person who had seemed unaware of the fact was the King. In the wake of all that had happened in the last few days however it seemed unlikely that Minos was _still_ oblivious to their mutual dislike.

The King himself still looked pale and haggard, his obvious fatigue mute testament to the sudden illness that had so recently nearly claimed his life. His speedy recovery had been viewed as nothing short of miraculous and Minos had ordered that offerings be made to the gods in thanks. He turned periodically to smile softly at his daughter or to look with anger at his wife. It was clear to all present that the Queen was currently out of favour with her husband and many of the servants present silently gloated, while storing every little move and word away for gossiping with their colleagues later.

Immediately after dinner Pasiphae excused herself and returned to her rooms. It would not pay her to be any less than the dutiful subservient wife at present; her position was a precarious one – at least until she could convince Minos of her affection and loyalty once more, and could persuade him that the recent events had been a simple mistake – that she had been mislead by others. It seemed that her nephew would be able to perform one last service for her even after death – Heptarian could at least be made a convenient scapegoat. Ariadne's faithless servant, Ione, was already languishing in the cells and the Queen was sure that she could make the girl's stay there a short one. It might take a little arranging but Pasiphae was certain that Ione's death could be made to look like a suicide or an accident and would occur before Minos could attempt to question her. She almost smiled to herself. What had happened here over the last few days was no more than a temporary set back. Slowly, however, her mind turned to her son. _Her son_! Part of the Queen could not believe that the boy was alive after all these years – and yet she knew without doubt that Aeson had spoken the truth. Jason was _hers_. But at the same time he could never actually be hers – she could never acknowledge him. Her heart clenched with a long forgotten pain. She had loved the child almost beyond reason. Had cried for days when she had been told he was dead. And now here he was young, strong, beautiful... and forever just beyond her reach. She had watched him from the shadows earlier today – had watched him walking away with the peasants he called friends, so happy and so full of life. Pasiphae closed her eyes as the pain and sorrow briefly flared. She had lost more than the King's favour in the last two days.

In the Palace gardens, Ariadne sat pensively looking out over a small pool. The setting sun cast long shadows across the rippling water and she shivered a little at the slight chill that came as the light faded.

"Ariadne?"

The girl turned to face her father, still a little worried by how tired and drawn he looked. Minos took in his daughter's wistful expression and came to sit on the small marble bench alongside her, placing his arm around her shoulders gently.

"The boy who saved you," he began, "he has feelings for you." It was not a question.

Ariadne tensed almost imperceptibly. Her father turned to look at her with wonder, suddenly realising something that had eluded him earlier.

"You have feelings for him as well," he said softly.

"Father," Ariadne started.

Minos frowned.

"I am sorry, my child," he said, "but you must know that this can never be."

"I know," Ariadne said sadly.

"Ariadne. You are of royal blood. A princess of Atlantis. The boy is a peasant. A brave one I will grant you, but still not an acceptable match for you."

"What will you do to him?" the girl asked, suddenly afraid.

"Nothing," Minos sought to reassure his daughter. "The boy has done me a great service in rescuing you. I will not harm him." He sighed. "But you must put him from your mind. You _must_ forget him. It will grow easier with time I promise. You can never see the boy again."

* * *

It was mid-afternoon the following day when Jason finally resurfaced, wandering across the kitchen barefoot, rubbing sleepily at one eye with his hair still rumpled from sleep. Hercules couldn't help but smile to himself at the sight. No matter how old Jason actually was (and to be honest neither he nor Pythagoras really knew the answer to that one) he somehow always managed to look frighteningly young when he first got up.

"Better now?" the big man grinned.

Jason dropped heavily onto the bench next to the kitchen table and rested his head in his hand, blinking at his older friend still a little sleepily.

"Hmm," he agreed. "Sorry. I wasn't exactly at my best yesterday."

"You should not let yourself get that tired," Pythagoras admonished, coming to join them from his room with a scroll tucked under his arm. "I know that this time it was because of the situation but I have noticed in the past that there are occasions when you do not engage in settled sleep for any reasonable period of time."

Jason smiled wryly.

"I don't do it on purpose," he said. "Insomnia and I are old friends."

"Why?" Pythagoras asked.

"I don't really know," Jason responded a little evasively. "It's always been like that." He reached for a cup of water, trying to think of a way to distract the mathematician – he had never been particularly comfortable with talking about himself.

Pythagoras frowned. He was burning to know more about his friend – to ask more questions – yet he knew that Jason was likely to shy away if he pushed too far. It was something he had learned over the months that he had known Jason – and right now the boy looked about ready to bolt. Catching a movement out of the corner of his eye he saw that Hercules was watching them both shrewdly – eyes knowing as he looked at their dark haired friend.

"We never did celebrate surviving Circe," the big man said suddenly.

Jason looked up, grateful for the change of subject.

"We could celebrate tonight," he suggested.

"We could," Pythagoras said slowly. "Unfortunately _someone_ ate the last of the pies this morning." He looked severely at Hercules who tried very hard to look innocent.

"I didn't know we were saving them for a special occasion," he remarked.

"We're out of milk too," Jason added, shaking the flagon. "I'll go. It's probably my turn anyway." He stood up and padded back across the room on bare feet, looking for his sandals, raking a hand through his hair to try and tame the curls into some semblance of order as he went.

Pythagoras turned to Hercules with a frown.

"Why did you change the subject like that?" he asked.

"You were making him uncomfortable," the big man replied bluntly.

Pythagoras blinked. It was easy in the face of Hercules' often drunken and sometimes buffoonish behaviour to forget that the man was actually far from stupid. He was stopped from further conversation by the re-arrival of Jason, wandering back across the room tying his belt in place. He stopped at the table and grabbed the milk jug.

"I won't be long," he said as he slipped out through the door.

* * *

The agora was busy even in the heat of the afternoon sun, the raucous calls of the merchants vying with one another for business raising loudly above the general hubbub. Everywhere you looked there was light and life and colour – the bustling heart of Atlantis on display. Here a workman in his plain, simple clothing joked with his mates as he pushed his way through the crowd in search of a friendly tavern at the end of the working day; there a foreigner in a bright varicoloured robe searched the marketplace for local treasures to take back home – wares that were commonplace in Atlantis but rarities in the foreigner's country of origin; and through the centre of the market a rich lady swept, her serving girl at her side, looking for the latest fashionable fabrics to arrive by sea or by land. It was noisy and dirty and overcrowded. But somehow over the last few months it had also become home. Jason looked around with a genuine feeling of contentment. This sometimes smelly, definitely dusty city was so very different from the sleepy, green English backwater where he had grown up and yet he felt a sense of belonging that he had never felt anywhere else. He smiled as he wandered down the street, milk jug in hand.

In a side alley a rail thin man watched the dark haired lad pass by with interest. His eyes hardened as he looked at the boy. In the last few months since Hercules had threatened and humiliated him in the tavern where he did business, Alektryon had pondered ways in which he could get back at the big man – could utterly destroy him. And now the answer almost seemed to have fallen into his lap. He smiled his oily reptilian smile. He would really have liked to reap his vengeance against the blonde lad that Hercules lived with; would have liked to hear the boy beg for mercy as tears rolled down his face from those big blue eyes; dreamed of returning the lad to Hercules broken beyond all repair. Unfortunately he also knew that Pythagoras knew of his reputation and would avoid him at all costs. The dark haired lad though was essentially still a stranger – would not know of Alektryon or his predilections – and he looked so strong; so vital. It would be a great pleasure to dominate this particular boy – to bring him to his knees. He smiled again, rubbing his hands together. All it would take was a little planning and he would have everything he wanted.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N Thank you for the reviews - I do like to hear that someone is reading and enjoying my scribblings...

I hope you enjoy this next chapter as much - please don't forget to let me know if you like it... I do enjoy getting reviews.

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Alektryon was beyond frustrated. A week had passed since he had seen the dark haired boy in the agora and he had made his preparations carefully. Everything was now in place. Everything was ready. All that was needed was for him to get his hands on the boy and his revenge against Hercules would be complete. Unfortunately for him, however, the boy never seemed to be on his own; was always with his friends. Alektryon had followed him for three days now and had yet to catch him on his own. Right now the boy had come out of a tavern with Hercules and Pythagoras. Although it was the middle of the day the big man seemed rather the worse for drink and was being supported on either side by his two younger companions. As the three of them drew level with the alleyway where Alektryon had concealed himself – weaving slightly from side to side as they went – the brunette boy spoke, peering around his older companion to the young mathematician on the other side.

"Remind me why we came to fetch him home again?"

"Because he is our friend," Pythagoras responded. He paused for a moment as though considering. "Besides we need _some_ money left for food and if we had left him in the tavern he would have drunk or gambled it all away."

"I'll have you know I've only had a couple," Hercules slurred. "I resemble your remark."

"You do indeed, old friend," Pythagoras retorted.

"Wait. What?" Hercules sounded confused, the alcohol making his brain foggy.

"It is the middle of the day and you are already roaring drunk," Pythagoras scolded. "You are a drunken fool and I am ashamed to call you my friend."

Although the young genius' words were harsh his tone remained friendly and he guided the big man carefully.

Holding up Hercules' other side Jason tried in vain to hold in his snort of laughter at the banter between his two friends as they made their way home. He smiled to himself. There was never enough money in the house and quite often not enough food but there was nowhere else he would choose to be. Hercules' small, cosy, modest little dwelling had become his home and its two occupants were his friends – the thought came easier now. Whilst he had cared for the other two almost from his first arrival in Atlantis and would have done anything for either of them, it had been a lot harder for him to accept that they cared for him too.

"You seem happy." Pythagoras looked at Jason a little quizzically.

Jason favoured him with a lop-sided grin.

"I was just thinking," he started.

"Careful," Hercules interjected, still slurring his words. "That could be dangerous."

Jason rolled his eyes at Pythagoras.

"We have no money," the mathematician pointed out.

"Yeah," Jason responded, "but we're still alive."

"Yes we are," Pythagoras conceded, "and so is Ariadne." He laughed at the way Jason's eyes glazed over slightly at the mention of the girl's name.

As they moved out of earshot, Alektryon emerged from the shadows. Pushing the hood of his cloak back from his face, his eyes narrowed as he watched the trio weaving their way down the street towards their home. Well, it seemed that he would not be in luck today. Still it would make it all the sweeter when he did eventually get his hands on that delicious dark haired lad – he supposed he ought to at least try to find out the boy's name but there didn't seem a lot of point really. His name did not actually matter. All that would matter would be the pleasure that Alektryon would take from the boy's ruin – and the pain it would cause Hercules. He smirked to himself. There would always be another day. He stepped out of the alley and blended into the crowd, making his way down the street in the opposite direction from the one which Hercules and the two boys had taken, unaware as he did so of another pair of eyes watching him from the deeper shadows of a recessed opening on the other side of the street.

From the opening where she had secreted herself, Pasiphae watched the tall emaciated man leave the alley opposite, her eyes burning into his back as he walked away. She had slipped out of the Palace several times in the last week just to watch her son from the shadows, drinking in the sight of him. The baby she had loved had become a man she knew only by sight and by name. Although it was painful to see him and to know that she could _never_ touch him, she found herself desperate to learn everything she could about the boy – to memorise his face; the way he moved; how he looked when he laughed; what made his heart quicken; what made him _him_. She allowed a flicker of sorrow to register on her face. Damn Aeson to the darkest pit of Tartarus. She was in no doubt that he had taken the boy from her to hurt her – and he had succeeded beyond his wildest dreams. So many memories came back to her now; of holding the boy when he was newly born; of naming him in defiance of tradition which stated that his father had the right to select his name (not that Aeson had objected – he had been infatuated with her then); of watching his first stumbling steps, falling back onto his backside with a giggle or holding onto _her_ hands for balance; of dark baby curls bobbing in a faint breeze; of the sound of a young child's laugh, bright and tinkling. She closed her eyes as pain threatened to overwhelm her.

Pulling her hood more firmly over her face, she pushed down the memories and thought about the present – and the future. While she was still out of favour with Minos, she was sure that the situation would turn to her advantage soon. She had already begun the process of placing the blame for the recent débâcle onto her deceased nephew and the apparent suicide of the girl Ione would only help her cause – especially since the girl had left a note expressing her sorrow for deceiving the Queen and making sure that everyone knew that Heptarian had coerced her into treason. The fact that Heptarian had acted on his own devices and killed the captain of the guard, Ramos, was helping her too. She had genuinely not known that the man had been killed – there had been no time for her nephew to tell her – and her reaction to his death had therefore been natural shock. She could not in all honesty say that she was unhappy with Ramos' demise – she had long suspected that he would act against her at some point – and it was helping to convince Minos of her innocence and Heptarian's guilt. In the meantime she could play the dutiful and contrite wife, apparently desperate to make amends for her folly. She could even appear sorry before that smug, crowing brat, Ariadne, however much it made her seethe inside. Pasiphae was more of a politician and more of a tactician than either her husband or his daughter would ever be. For now she would be content to be contrite in public and regain her husband's favour – and to watch her son in secret.

Several times over the past week she had spotted the thin man from the alleyway opposite watching Jason intently – although he had never seen her. Unsure why, the thought of someone else watching _her_ boy made her uncomfortable, and there was something in the man's eyes that made her shudder. Pasiphae had many faults – was in no way a good woman – and yet there was something almost soulless about the man from the alley. Frowning, she stepped back out into the street, ready to make her way back to the Palace. She wanted to know who this man was and why he was watching her son. Enquiries would have to be made.

* * *

The sun was shining brightly as Jason made his way down the steps from the Temple of Poseidon two days later. Honestly he wasn't even sure why he bothered visiting the Oracle at times. The woman was so utterly bloody cryptic most of the time that he wanted to tear his own hair out in sheer frustration. And if she told him that "everything would become clear in time" just one more time he really thought he might scream – or possibly kick her scrying bowl over, if only to see what sort of reaction he got. He sighed. He was being unfair and he knew it. The woman had _tried_ to help him ever since he had arrived in Atlantis – even if he wasn't sure that her pronouncements were actually all that helpful at times – and had never been anything but kind. People being kind still wasn't something that Jason was particularly used to so he tried not to take it for granted. Today was one of his "what am I doing here" days – the sort of day when he had to get out of the house before he snapped at Pythagoras – the sort of day when he couldn't quite work out his purpose in life. He had made the mistake of visiting the Oracle when he was already in a bit of a mood – which was never a good plan. He would end up even more frustrated at the lack of a straightforward answer and she would end up upset at his frustration. He really ought to know better by now.

Sighing again, Jason looked up to see where his wandering feet had managed to take him. The Atlantean docks, like docks all over the world, held an odour all of their own. Jason stopped by a stack of crates for a moment, drinking in the sights and sounds of the wharf-side. He had spent a lot of his life around boats and the sea, and being here now felt as natural as breathing. The tide was in and many of the ships were making ready to sail, dockers hurriedly unloading the cargo's while other ships sailed in to port. Here and there a small fishing vessel bobbed between the bigger merchantmen, often in danger of being swamped by their larger counterparts, as the fishermen hurled nets full of reeking fish up onto the wharf, ready for the fishwives to gut. Everywhere Jason looked there was activity and the noise of the port assaulted his ears. A sudden tap on his shoulder made him turn in surprise.

"You looking for work?" The man who had approached him was older and had the deeply tanned, ruddy complexion of someone who had spent his life at sea.

"Erm, yeah sure," Jason answered, desperately hoping that Atlantis didn't have such a thing as press-gangs.

The older man smiled a gap-toothed smile.

"Good," he said. "I need another worker to help unload the ships. Korax went sick this morning – got himself the pox – and only the gods know when he'll be back. You look like a strong enough lad. If you want it the job's yours until Korax is fit again." He paused. "You got a name?"

"Jason."

"Right then Jason. I'm Perdikkas and I'm the harbour-master here. That means that I'm the boss. You mess up you'll answer to me. Pay's not too bad and you'll get it at the end of each day. You'll start at sunrise and finish with the afternoon tide – normally about mid-afternoon. Sound good?"

Jason blinked at the man's rapid speech.

"Yeah," he stammered as the meaning finally filtered through.

"Good," the man grinned. "Be here at sun-up tomorrow." He clapped Jason on the back once more and limped off, his one knee stiff.

Jason stood still for a few minutes trying to work out what had just happened. Then he grinned. Hercules would be pleased – the regular wage would help to keep his burly friend in wine – and Pythagoras might enjoy having the house to himself to work in again. More importantly Jason felt he could at last contribute something to the household – there were times over the last few months when he had felt like he was sponging off his friends – and that was a feeling he didn't like at all. Suddenly gripped by the desire to tell his friends his good fortune, he turned and hared off down the street, heading for home.

It was on the harbour side of the agora – the furthest side from home – that Jason encountered the man. He was tall, thin and pale, his greying sandy hair barely covering his head. He was staggering down the street carrying a bag that looked far too heavy for his frail arms. As Jason drew alongside, the man suddenly dropped the bag, scattering clothes and belongings everywhere. Jason stopped immediately and started to help the man pick up his things, stuffing them back into the bag for him. The thin man peered at his near-sightedly.

"I thank you young man," he wheezed in a high-pitched lisp. "I am sorry to have inconvenienced you."

Jason smiled.

"It's no trouble," he said.

"I am a stranger in your fine city," the man lisped. "I came here to visit my son. I am not in good health and I fear this may be my last chance to see the boy... and I wish to make sure he is happy. He lives to the south of the Canopic Way. I was tired and my bag is _so_ heavy. I could not carry it any further."

"Then I will carry it for you," Jason responded, impulsively grabbing the man's arm. He had never been able to stop himself from helping someone in need.

Alektryon smiled to himself as the boy picked up the bag and started to follow him. It had been all too easy to lure the lad now that he was finally on his own. He had made enquiries and discovered that the young man had a bleeding heart – would always stop to aid someone that needed help.

"It's just a little way down here," he said, leading the boy down a darkened alleyway.

"Jason," a new voice boomed from the end of the alley.

Alektryon froze, recognising the voice, even as Jason turned with a smile.

"Meriones," he called brightly, genuinely pleased to see the giant man. It had actually been several months now since Meriones had visited them – his business had occupied much of his time lately and Hercules had not really been in the mood to visit him since Medusa had suffered her curse. Jason put the bag down alongside himself and stepped forward to greet the man, hand outstretched to clasp Meriones' arm.

Meriones tried hard to keep his face as impassive as possible. He had caught sight of the boy as he had left the tavern and had been both surprised and horrified to realise that he was in the company of Alektryon of all people. What the lad could be doing with him he couldn't possibly imagine. Now that he saw Jason up close, and heard the young man's greeting, he realised that the boy clearly had no idea who his companion actually was. It was all he could do not to growl.

"It has been too long my friend," he said as neutrally as possible. If the boy genuinely did not realise the danger he had been in Meriones was not going to be the one to tell him. "I was just going to visit Hercules. Perhaps I could accompany you home."

Alektryon listened to their greeting with barely concealed panic. While he wished to get revenge on Hercules he had no desire to antagonise Meriones – the man had too many contacts and was simply too powerful. The boy _would_ be his – would be the instrument of his revenge – but for now discretion was surely the better part of valour. He swept the bag up from by Jason's feet without the lad noticing and backed off down the alley as quickly as he could.

Jason looked seriously at Meriones.

"I am heading home," he said. "I just need to see this man gets to his son's house first." He turned to gesture at his companion, then turned slowly in a complete circle when he realised he was alone. "Where did he go?" he asked in confusion.

"Perhaps he did not wish to interrupt a meeting of old friends," Meriones said smoothly. He came forward and placed an arm around Jason's shoulders. "Let us go then," he said, ushering the boy out of the alley and towards home.

* * *

Pythagoras looked up from his triangles as the door banged open. He half-expected to see Jason wandering in – although the way the door clattered seemed a little noisy for his friend. The young man had been absent from the house all day. What little Pythagoras had seen of him he had seemed to be having one of what Hercules had dubbed his moody days. It was quite touching, the mathematician supposed, that Jason did not want to upset his friends with his moods and worries but he could not help wishing his brunette friend would share his problems a little more. After all they were supposed to be friends and that meant that they should share each other's burdens – at least that was how Pythagoras felt. He drew a breath, ready to try to lighten his friend's mood.

He was somewhat disconcerted to discover that it was Hercules who had come in. The big man was almost sober and had clearly come home in search of supper. It was probably just as well that Pythagoras had started a stew earlier but now he had the unenviable task of keeping his burly friend's hands off it until their younger friend decided to grace them with his presence.

"Smells good," Hercules rumbled reaching for a bowl.

"It is for all of us to share," Pythagoras responded primly, trying to hide the serving spoon behind his back.

"I'll just taste it for you," the big man said, attempting to reach around the mathematician for the spoon.

"It does not need to be tasted," the young man answered. "We need to wait for Jason."

"But I'm hungry now," Hercules nearly wailed. "I don't see why we should have to wait just because he's having a strop."

"Jason is not 'having a strop'," Pythagoras retorted. "We will eat supper together... and that means waiting until Jason comes home."

"Just as well he's here then," a low laughing voice came from the doorway.

Pythagoras looked up to see Jason leaning on the door frame, his amusement written on his face.

"I picked up a friend on the way," the brunette continued, jerking a thumb over his shoulder.

"Well my friends," another voice boomed from behind the young man, "it is good to see you all."

Meriones stepped through the doorway. Pythagoras couldn't help noticing that the room seemed much smaller with him in it from the sheer size of his personality as much as from his enormous frame.

Hercules put down his dish and stepped forward, a bright smile of greeting on his broad face. As he drew up to Meriones he noted the unaccustomed note of seriousness in his friend's eyes and frowned. Meriones was watching Jason carefully. Something was going on and Hercules immediately felt that he needed to know what that something was. Before he could ask anything, Meriones shot him a look, letting the big man know that he would speak to him in private with one flash of his eyes.

"I met Jason in the street and decided it has been far too long since I saw you all," Meriones said ingenuously.

Jason wandered across the room and sniffed at the pan of stew on the fire.

"Smells good," he said. "Pythagoras you're a star – I'm really hungry."

Pythagoras smiled with pleasure. Incident with the meat stolen from Hekate's temple aside (and to be fair he _had_ been starving at the time), Jason was sometimes a little sparing with food – much to the concern of his two friends. Pythagoras tried not to nag him (although Hercules had no such qualms) but he couldn't help but worry.

"You seem happier," he remarked, reaching for some bowls to serve the stew in.

"I've got a job," Jason answered brightly.

The news was not received with the general pleasure he had hoped. Both Pythagoras and Hercules stopped what they were doing and looked at him anxiously.

"What sort of a job?" the mathematician asked warily. He wanted to be pleased for his friend but he remembered only too well what had happened last time Jason had found a job on his own – the incident with Dakos was not something he was likely to forget in a hurry.

Jason frowned.

"It's down at the docks," he answered defensively. "I ended up down there this afternoon and the harbour-master offered me a job. It's only temporary because one of the dockers is sick but I thought you'd be pleased. It'll be a regular wage coming in and all that."

Pythagoras relaxed visibly. He couldn't think of _too_ many ways that his friend could get into trouble working at the docks – but then again this was Jason so you never really knew.

"What will you have to do?" he asked.

"Just loading and unloading. That sort of thing," Jason responded. "Don't worry I'm not leaving the city again," he added as it finally occurred to him why his friends were so concerned. "I start at sunrise tomorrow."

Hercules smiled.

"So there'll be a bit more money coming into the house," he clarified. "This is something to celebrate."

As the two boys moved off onto the balcony, still chatting about Jason's new job, the big wrestler grabbed Meriones' arm.

"What's going on?" he hissed.

Meriones sighed.

"I found Jason with Alektryon earlier."

Hercules went white.

"Don't worry, old friend," Meriones was quick to try to reassure him. "I made sure that nothing happened. The boy wasn't even aware there was a problem." He frowned bleakly. "Alektryon was posing as a helpless old man and had persuaded the lad to 'help' him."

"I'm going to kill him," Hercules breathed through clenched teeth. "I should have done it months ago."

"You must not harm him," Meriones said seriously. "I am sorry my friend but Alektryon has too many powerful friends – he is too necessary to the everyday running of this city. You would never be able to get away with killing him."

"I told him if he ever went near either Pythagoras or Jason I would castrate him," Hercules seethed. "I even held my knife against his trousers to make sure he understood what I was saying."

"And that is why he is doing this," Meriones growled. "You humiliated him in public. Surely you must have known he would not accept that."

Hercules sighed.

"At the time I wasn't thinking all that clearly," he admitted. "Jason was hurt and Pythagoras was worried and that _creature_ suggested..." he broke off, choking on his own words.

Meriones put a firm hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Do not worry," he said. "We will make sure that no harm can come to your boys."

"Thank you, old friend," Hercules responded gratefully, moving towards the balcony to join the two boys where they were deep in conversation.


	3. Chapter 3

A/N Thank you for the reviews - I always like to get reviews... :-)

Please review and let me know you like this chapter... if you do like it that is!

I _still_ don't own Atlantis.

* * *

Jason didn't sleep well that night. The knowledge that he had to be at work at sunrise (without the aid of an alarm clock to wake him) combined with the fatal mixture of excitement and trepidation at the thought of a new job, to prevent meaningful slumber. Instead he tossed and turned, sleeping in short stretches, before finally conceding defeat and getting up some time before the dawn. He supposed that he really ought to have breakfast knowing that the work was likely to be physical and that it would probably be a long time before he got the chance for lunch, but his stomach was still too knotted and clenched with nerves and he found himself baulking at the idea of food. Sitting on the floor of the balcony, back pressed to the wall, he closed his eyes as the breeze ruffled his hair. The nights were definitely getting longer and there was a distinct chill in the air – a sure sign that winter was just around the corner. It wasn't cold in the terms that Jason had known it growing up in England, but it was still a lot colder than it had been when he had first arrived in Atlantis. He pushed himself up from the floor and padded across the room barefoot having decided not to put on his sandals until the last minute so that he could avoid waking his friends if possible.

A small cloth wrapped bundle on the table made him stop. That surely had not been there when he had gone to bed. As he drew closer he saw a small piece of parchment tucked into the top with his name on it. Carefully opening the bundle, he found that it contained some bread, cheese and a few grapes. Jason smiled. It had to be Pythagoras. Hercules, for all his good points, was unlikely to have packed a lunch bundle for his friend. The mathematician really was remarkably kind. Jason shook his head, still smiling, even as he sat down to pull on his sandals.

A soft noise behind him made him turn. His mouth dropped open in surprise to see Hercules coming out of his room, leather jerkin already on over his tunic and sandals on his feet. Jason had always thought that the big man was unaware that this time of day even existed – he was normally either fast asleep in bed or passed out somewhere until the sun had well and truly risen.

"What are you doing up?" he blurted.

"No 'Good morning Hercules, isn't it a nice day?'," the burly wrestler said. "I expected as much."

"Sorry," Jason said. "You startled me." His eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You're never up this early."

"Can't a man decide that he wants to be up a little earlier than usual?"

"Yes," Jason answered. "But your idea of early is usually when the taverns open... and that isn't for another few hours yet."

Hercules placed one meaty hand against his chest.

"I'm hurt," he said. "Meriones asked me to speak to someone for him and since the docks are on the way I thought you might like some company on the journey."

Jason frowned. Something was definitely wrong. As always Hercules was about as subtle as a brick.

"Alright," he said, "what's going on?"

Hercules raised an eyebrow.

"Why does something have to be going on?" he asked defensively. "I've just got something to do... and you're going to be late for work on your first day if we don't get a move on."

Jason looked out of the window to see the first light of dawn creeping over the roofs of the houses and swore. Whatever Hercules was up to it would have to wait for later. Right now he had to get to work. He pulled his sandals on and gathered up his lunch bundle, hurrying out of the door with Hercules in tow.

* * *

It was the middle of the afternoon when Jason made his way back in through the door of the house, tired but happy. He had been right in thinking that the work would be physically challenging, but he was fit and healthy and really a little hard work never actually hurt anyone (no matter what Hercules thought). The pay wasn't bad either and he had stopped at the agora on the way home to buy a flagon of wine – the decent stuff for once, not the dishwater that Hercules sometimes brought home when he'd had a few to drink – and a couple of pies for supper. It was funny, he reflected, he hadn't seen Meriones in months and now he'd run into him for the second day running as he left the docks. The giant man had accompanied him as far as the doorway to the house before excusing himself on a matter of urgent business that he said he needed to look into further down the street.

Unexpectedly the house was silent and empty. Jason assumed that Hercules was in the tavern by now – it was certainly where he was to be found most afternoons – and a note from Pythagoras indicated that the young genius had gone to the library to do some work. Jason smiled. Glad as he often was for the presence of his friends, sometimes it was nice to have a bit of time to himself. Putting his purchases down on the side, he fetched his sword and hunting knife from under his bed and started the process of sharpening them, the rhythmic steely scrape of the whetstone along the sword blade almost lulling him as his mind wandered. Invariably his thoughts drifted to Ariadne, remembering how the girl had looked the morning when they had awoken together in her room. A soft smile graced his lips. He would gladly give his life for her in an instant but it had been almost overwhelming to discover that she felt the same way about him. What was she doing right now, he wondered as he put down his sword and started to sharpen his knife. Of course the situation was even more complicated now that the King knew Jason had feelings for Ariadne – it would be harder than ever to see her.

Jason sighed, mood darkening somewhat as he gathered up his things, task accomplished, and returned his now sharp sword and knife to their spaces beneath his bed. The first time Pythagoras had caught him pushing the jumble of clothes, weaponry and his breastplate under his bed he had given a long-suffering sigh and favoured Jason with that look of half-exasperation that he gave whenever he felt Jason was doing something particularly stupid – apparently in the mathematician's world the technique of shoving everything out of sight was not a valid method of tidying up. In fact he had told Jason not to come crying to him the first time he cut himself on his sword or knife reaching under the bed to find his tunic. So Jason hadn't. In fact he'd simply torn off a bit of cloth from a sheet and bound up the cut on his hand himself. Unfortunately Pythagoras had noticed one night at the supper table when Jason had been unable to grip a cup properly as he couldn't actually bend his slightly swollen fingers. The young genius had had the makeshift bandage undone in a trice and had discovered the by then extremely sore and obviously infected cut at the base of his friend's fingers. He had cursed loudly and for a very long time. Jason had been rather surprised to discover that he was quite good at it. Of course he'd then been treated to one of Pythagoras' most foul tasting tonics – once the blonde had cleaned and bandaged his hand properly – and yet another lecture on looking after himself and telling his friends if he was hurt. Jason had felt it was a bit hypocritical of Pythagoras – after all he _had_ told Jason not to come running to him – but wisely chose not to say anything. The most annoying thing about the whole affair was that he hadn't been able to use his hand properly for a week and had had to put up with Pythagoras cutting up his food for him and helping him to do up his trousers, all the time making pointed comments about how this could all have been avoided if Jason had just said something at the right time.

Wandering back over to the kitchen table now, Jason started to lay out plates for supper, filling them with bread, cheese, fruits, olives and the pies he had bought. It would hopefully be a nice surprise for Pythagoras to come home and find supper already made and laid out. It was only a cold supper tonight because Jason was tired enough that he wouldn't trust himself not to fall asleep and let supper burn if he tried cooking anything. He could cook of course – had lived alone for long enough to have learned to make more than cheese on toast – but most of the time the task of cooking their meals fell on the mathematician. Pythagoras never complained and Jason secretly suspected that the blonde actually enjoyed preparing and cooking food. He smiled and stepped back, making sure he had put everything out even as he yawned widely. Satisfied that the table was as laid as it was going to be and more than a little tired both from his work at the docks and the night of disturbed sleep, he disappeared back into his bedroom alcove for a short nap.

Pythagoras was startled to discover the fully laden table on his return from the library. Clearly Jason had been shopping on his way home if the presence of pies and a new jar of wine were anything to go by. Hercules would be happy. He looked across towards Jason's room and noted that his dark-haired friend was curled up on his bed apparently asleep. The blonde smiled softly to himself as he padded as quietly as possible towards his own room, silently pulling the leather satchel he used to transport his scrolls over his head. In the doorway to his room he stopped. There on the table was a small stack of coins. Walking over he picked up the note that accompanied the money. It was marked with his name and simply said 'for housekeeping' in Jason's distinctive bold scrawl. It hadn't come as a surprise to Pythagoras to discover that the younger of his two friends read and wrote as well as he himself did. But that in itself raised questions. Most Greek boys never went to school – generally only the rich could afford to send their sons for formal education – and most children of the lower classes never learned to read. Pythagoras himself had been lucky in that the doctor in their local community on Samos had taken a liking to him and had taken it upon himself to educate the boy. Hercules could read, Pythagoras knew, but not especially fluently. So where had Jason learned? The more Pythagoras thought about it the more he had become convinced that his sometimes strange young friend was not actually Greek at all – had not been brought up anywhere in the Aegean. And yet he spoke, read and wrote Atlantian Greek fluently without even the hint of a foreign accent. Despite Hercules' frequent assertions that Jason was ignorant and stupid he clearly wasn't and in fact was probably well educated. But the fact remained that he knew next to nothing about the customs, traditions and history of Atlantis, and, more surprisingly, knew very little about the gods. He was always polite when Pythagoras and Hercules fulfilled those little household rituals in honour of the various gods and clearly found some of the festivals and observances fascinating – but he equally clearly didn't understand what they were doing or why. Pythagoras found himself being curious about the household gods of Jason's hearth and wondered if, perhaps, there were any rituals or ceremonies his friend would like to observe. Perhaps he should ask? But then again, Jason was well known for clamming up as soon as any questions were asked about his past. Pythagoras sighed. He would dearly love to know exactly where Jason came from and about the culture and traditions he had been brought up with, but he simply could not think of a way to broach the subject without his friend getting that guarded look in his eyes and without suddenly darting off to 'do something important'.

Pythagoras trotted out of his room as the front door banged open, noticing almost absently that Jason hopped up off his bed at the same time. Hercules bounded into the room in his own inimitable style and stopped, a slow grin spreading across his broad features as he took notice of the fully laden table. He walked over to it rubbing his hands together gleefully and poured himself a cup of wine. The two boys joined him as he took a sip, his grin turning into a beam as he savoured the rich fruity flavour of the drink.

"If this is the result you should have got a job months ago," he said, pointing one meaty finger at Jason.

The dark-haired lad ducked his head slightly and took a gulp of his own drink, almost spluttering from the unexpected potency. Pythagoras quickly moved to take the cup out of his hand and pounded him lightly on the back. Hercules laughed.

"Lightweight," he said affectionately.

"It just went down the wrong way," Jason protested, frowning.

"Shall we eat?" Pythagoras asked, trying to shepherd the other two to sit down at the table. Sometimes he felt like he was trying to herd cats.

"Do you like it?" Jason asked Hercules, his eyes filled with an imploring hopefulness that tugged at the big man's heart.

"Yes," he answered. "You did well."

Jason gave him his brightest lop-sided grin.

"Meriones told me which one to get," he confessed. "I ran into him at the docks as I was coming home. It's odd. We don't see him for months and then I run into him twice in as many days."

Pythagoras happened to be looking directly at Hercules as Jason spoke and could not fail to see the shifty look that passed across the big man's face. He almost frowned. Hercules was hiding something and Pythagoras suddenly felt that he really ought to know what that something was. Before he could speak, Hercules jumped in.

"Meriones has always come and gone as he pleases," he said. "This food and wine is really excellent. Thank you Jason."

Jason smiled at him, and with a warm glow in his heart settled down to enjoy the meal and the company of his two friends.

* * *

The summons to the council chamber was not unexpected. Pasiphae had known that sooner or later Minos would want to deal with her officially. Smoothing the skirt of her court dress, the Queen of Atlantis straightened her back and held her head high as she glided purposefully down the corridor, every pore oozing elegance and grace. The door to the council chamber was manned by two of the Palace guards – evidence, if evidence were needed, that the King was already inside. As Pasiphae approached the doors swung open revealing Minos, standing in front of his throne, with his daughter and the rest of the court lining the walls – here to witness the humbling of the Queen, Pasiphae thought a little bitterly. Determined not to give them the satisfaction of seeing her broken, she moved purposefully towards the dais, stopping just short of the raised platform and lowering her head in apparent contrition – although not submission. Minos frowned.

"You know why you have been summoned here," he said sternly.

"Yes My Lord," Pasiphae answered smoothly.

"You tried to execute my daughter while I lay on my deathbed."

"I acted out of fear My Lord," the Queen answered, her voice throbbing emotionally. "I awoke to find an intruder in my room, his sword poised over me. I believed an assassin had gained entrance to the Palace and had attempted to kill me as I slept – although I could not understand why he had not struck. I was fast asleep. It would have been easy for him to kill me. Then I was informed by my nephew that the intruder had escaped through the passageway into the Temple. The existence of the passageway has always been a closely guarded secret known only to the royal family and a few trusted members of the court. I was led to believe that we had a traitor in our midst. When Ariadne's serving girl came to me with a cloth that she had apparently found in Ariadne's chambers and told me that it was covered with the intruder's blood I believed her." She paused, apparently to regain control of herself. "Ariadne was brought to the council chamber. When I questioned her she admitted that she had harboured the intruder in her chambers... although she claimed not to have asked his name."

"Is this true?" Minos asked, turning towards Ariadne.

"Father," the girl began.

"My Lord," Pasiphae interrupted, casting a quick glance at her step-daughter, "I believed that Ariadne knew the name of the intruder and wished me harm. I no longer believe that to be the case," she paused again. "I believe that the would be assassin was never meant to kill me. I think that it was all a plot on the part of Heptarian to discredit Ariadne and myself, ensure that Ariadne would be executed and I would be vilified and gain power for himself. I believe that the intruder threatened your daughter – said he would return and harm her if she betrayed him. I believe my nephew to have foully manipulated me into acting against Ariadne; into betraying the trust you have placed in me in the worst possible way. I humbly beg Ariadne's pardon and will accept whatever judgement you place upon me." She lowered her head contritely, hands clasped loosely before herself.

Minos looked at her seriously. He had loved this woman for twenty years. Had blinded himself to her faults and failings. When he had realised that she had threatened his beloved daughter he had been incandescent with rage. Yet everything she had just said made sense. He had seen the shock on her face for himself when she had heard of the death of the captain of the guard, Ramos, at the hands of Heptarian – and the suicide note left by the girl, Ione, seemed to back up Pasiphae's version of events. Whilst he was still angry that she had allowed herself to be so easily duped, he reminded himself that, strong though she undoubtedly was, she was still only a woman and had been forced to act without the guidance of her husband. He could feel her fear and sorrow, her words – her entire posture – spoke clearly to him and he found his heart softening towards her.

"Very well," he said. "We will speak no more of punishments at this time. That is a matter for us to discuss in private at a later time. I believe there may have been faults on both sides," he looked sternly at Ariadne before turning back to his wife, "although I do not believe Ariadne to be capable of treason and I believe that you should have seen that." He frowned at them both again. "You may both return to your duties," he added dismissing them.

Out in the corridor once more, Ariadne turned towards her step-mother with her hatred written plainly in her eyes.

"You may have convinced my father of your innocence, but I see you exactly for what you are," the girl spat.

Pasiphae allowed a small, almost triumphant smile to cross her lips.

"Ariadne," she said softly. "We should not fight. Your father's will and judgement are final. Would you defy him?"

"I am a dutiful daughter," Ariadne answered drawing herself up to her full height. "I will stand at my father's side and support him."

"And I am his wife and Queen of Atlantis," Pasiphae stated smoothly. "I have only ever wanted what is best for the city. I was mislead by Heptarian and your faithless servant – a girl who betrayed the trust placed in her and took her own life before she could suffer the consequences. It is so hard to know who to trust these days, don't you think?"

She reached out and ran a caressing hand down the side of the girl's face. Ariadne tried very hard not to shudder.

"Your father has chosen to believe and forgive me," Pasiphae continued, "and you should do the same, if only for his sake. I could be your greatest ally, Ariadne."

"I'm not afraid of you," Ariadne asserted with a certain amount of bravado, "and I will _never_ be your ally."

"Then you are a more stupid little girl than I had imagined," Pasiphae answered softly as she swept past her step-daughter and on down the corridor.

Pasiphae smiled to herself. Now that she was well on the way to regaining Minos' favour and her former influence, she could concentrate her efforts on discovering more about the man who she had seen stalking Jason. What she had learned of him so far – his name and some of his predilections – had disquieted her. She only needed a little more information and she would be able to neutralise the man. He would not be able to threaten her son. Her smile grew viscous as her eyes hardened. Soon she would act.

* * *

Perdikkas the harbour master prided himself on being a good judge of character. Watching his workers unloading another ship he smiled to himself. He had done it again. The dark-haired young man, Jason, had only worked here for five days but he already seemed to fit in well and was undoubtedly hard working – doing everything that was asked of him quietly and with the minimum of fuss. To be true some of the older dockers complained that the lad was stand-offish but that was simply because he had not volunteered his life story to them immediately and Perdikkas preferred to think of him as just a little quiet. It scarcely mattered anyway, given that the boy would only be here until Korax managed to recover from his bout of pox. Perdikkas shook his head. The man was as strong as a bull and could shift twice as much cargo as any of his colleagues but he had warned him time and time again not to visit the pornai in that brothel near the eastern gate. The pornoboskós was not known for keeping a clean house and most of his girls were reputed to have some form of disease, as Korax was now learning to his cost. Still, his temporary replacement was satisfactory enough. Perdikkas smiled to himself again as he returned to scrutinising the cargo manifests of several recently arrived ships, automatically beginning the process of working out the order of importance in which they should be unloaded.

Jason hummed happily to himself as he moved another crate, stacking it against a wall ready for transportation to a warehouse. Idly he wondered what the boxes contained. Sometimes, he had discovered, it was easy to tell what he was moving from the shape of the packages or the smells that emanated from them. Other times, as on this occasion, the boxes were so nondescript that it was impossible to tell what was in them, allowing his imagination to run free as he thought about what might be inside. It might be precious frankincense or jewels. Or perhaps fragrant perfumes, brightly coloured jewel-like silks, or exotic spices carefully packed for transportation. Of course it could also be something completely mundane like new sandals or homespun cloth for peasant clothing. You could never be sure without being able to look inside.

Moving the last box into place, Jason paused and wiped his wrist across his forehead, pushing his sweat dampened curls back out of his eyes. It felt good to be working again – and contributing to the household bills – even if the work was physically tiring. He had quickly fallen into a routine – rising before dawn quietly so as not to disturb his housemates, getting to work shortly before the sunrise, stopping at the agora on his way home each afternoon to purchase a wine skin or a jar of mead, returning to the house dead tired and taking a short nap before getting back up for supper. And tomorrow was his day off. Jason wasn't sure whether he planned to spend it catching up on sleep or whether he should drag Pythagoras out to enjoy the autumn sunshine – aside from that trip to the library on Jason's first day at work, the mathematician didn't seem to have left the house in days and looked like he could use a break from his never-ending triangles. The only dark spot in Jason's life right now was Hercules. Or perhaps to be more accurate he should say Hercules _and_ Meriones. The larger than life giant was appearing more and more frequently. In fact Jason seemed to meet either Meriones or Hercules on his way home every day and quite often one of them would suddenly appear when he was walking to work as well. There had even been at least one occasion when he had been sure he had caught site of Gelo following him at a distance. Jason frowned. He wasn't entirely sure what the two older men were up to but he was going to have to put a stop to it soon. It was beginning to make him feel like a child being walked to and from school and he _really_ didn't like it. He had been independent for a very long time now (perhaps even longer than his friends realised) and was used to having time to himself. If the constant supervision from Hercules and his old friend didn't stop soon, Jason was going to end up clawing his way out of his own skin in frustration. His frown deepened. Lost in thought he didn't notice a figure approaching behind him until a tap on his shoulder made him spin around, still frowning so deeply that he appeared to almost be scowling.

Old Sinis, one of the oldest of the dockers, raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. Jason immediately felt guilty. Of all the dockers, Sinis was the one he spoke to most often. The old man made no attempts to pry into Jason's past or to be nosy about the young man in any way. He had been open and friendly from the start, showing the boy the ropes on his first day and keeping a friendly, albeit distant, eye on him ever since.

"If you've finished unloading that one we're all going to take a quick lunch break," Sinis said gruffly. "We'll start on _The Delias _after we've eaten."

Jason nodded and followed the old man to where the other dockers were already eating, deep in raucous conversation that seemed to be about Uskelegon, one of the dockers, and his recent escapades with the wife of a city official. Jason smiled softly as he went to join them.

Further down the docks a harassed looking man was trying to hold his young daughter's hand while discussing the unloading of a small merchant vessel with Perdikkas. The little girl was strikingly pretty, blonde and delicate looking with huge blue eyes, and appeared to be about six years old. She was also keen to get away from her father and explore.

"Look," the man said, "I need to get my cargo unloaded as quickly as possible. I know it's not worth all that much but it could mean the difference between a profit and ruin to me."

"I'd like to help you friend," Perdikkas responded with no rancour, "but your cargo will have to wait. _The Delias_ needs to be unloaded first. She's carrying cargo that could spoil if there's any delay. I'm sorry but I have to unload her first."

As the harbour master and her father continued to argue, albeit in a friendly manner, the little girl managed to slip her hand out of her father's without being noticed and set off to have a good look around. She was generally a well behaved child but she had been blessed with a spirit for adventure and the sights and sounds of the docks were calling to her, just waiting to be explored. Without meaning to she strayed further and further away from her father and closer to the edge of the wharf, attempting to get a good look at the massive seeming ships while trying to imagine where they had come from and where they were going. Her name was Castianiera and she had never been anywhere outside Atlantis. Sometimes at night, when she was supposed to be in bed, she would creep to the doorway of her room and listen to her father talking to his business associates. They mentioned the names of far off places – names that set her heart alight and made her dream of travel to distant lands. Lost now in pleasant daydreams, she wandered to the very edge of the quay, looking at a particularly handsome boat that was just tying up on the wharf. Finally giving up on his argument with the harbour master the little girl's father looked up and was horrified to see how far she had managed to wander away from him – and even more horrified to see how close to the edge of the dock she was given that she could not yet swim.

"Cassie," he called. "Come back here now!"

The little girl spun around to look at her father in surprise. Unfortunately so did one of the dock workers, carrying a large and long package and completely failing to see the small child near himself. The package caught Castianiera in the chest and pushed her off the side of the dock. The child had no time to scream as the air was forced from her lungs by the blow and she was propelled off the side of the wharf and down into the waters below.

"Cassie!" her father screamed as he broke into a run, already knowing that he was too far away to reach his daughter in time. Perdikkas watched the scene unfolding with horror. It seemed certain that the child would be crushed between the side of the ship she had been inspecting and the dock – if she did not drown first. A sudden movement off to his right made the harbour master turn slightly in time to see a dark-haired figure sprint towards the edge of the wharf and dive smoothly off, following the little girl down into the azure waters in a blur of movement.


	4. Chapter 4

A/N Thanks to Vellymymare and Polly for your reviews of the last chapter.

I hope this one doesn't disappoint.

Please feel free to review - at least then I know people are still reading!

* * *

The cold of the water took Jason's breath away as he dived down off the side of the dock. As the waters closed over him he felt a brief surge of unreasoning panic. He closed his eyes against the panic as his vision darkened. This was the first time he had swum in sea water since arriving in Atlantis and for a brief moment his mind imagined he was back on the sub with the glass imploding around him, knowing he was going to die as his lungs filled with salt water and his blood started to pound, pressure building in his head. Then he opened his eyes, his vision cleared and he remembered where he was. The water was much murkier than he was expecting, the constant comings and goings of the ships having stirred up the silt from the bottom of the docks, and he struggled to see more than a foot ahead of himself. Angling down in the vague direction he had seen the little girl fall, Jason swam on, lungs burning with effort. The ships rocked on their moorings, threatening to crush him between their sides and the wall of the wharf. Suddenly he saw the child ahead of him, bobbing helplessly, her leg tangled in the trailing rope of a small fishing vessel. Reaching out Jason tried desperately to free her, but the rope refused to budge, burning the palms of his hands as he tore at it. Finally realising that what he was doing would never work, he swam up again towards the surface, lungs desperate for air.

Breaching the surface of the water, Jason gulped in air and looked up to find a crowd had gathered at the edge of the dock.

"I need a knife," he gasped. "She's caught in a rope."

The dockers on the wharfside gaped at him, their faces still stunned by the speed of the recent events. For a few precious seconds nobody moved before a short, squat fishwife pushed her way to the front and threw a knife down towards Jason, muttering profanities about the dockers and their lack of helpfulness. Jason caught it one-handed, barely looking, before diving back down into the depths towards the trapped child. Working quickly he sawed through the rope and gathered the limp body of the girl into his arms, kicking as strongly as he could for the surface once more. He was tiring rapidly now, lungs on fire and muscles burning, but he could not afford to slow down. Any delay could mean the difference between life or death for the little girl and Jason was not willing to take that risk.

Swimming back up into the daylight, he thrust the child into the waiting arms of the crowd on the quay, before allowing strong hands to pull him up beside her. The little girl lay in a small jumbled heap on the quayside, the dock workers and fishwives standing around and looking at her limp form sorrowfully. Her father stood numbly, face twisted into a mask of horror as Perdikkas held him gently around the shoulders. Jason frowned deeply. There was still time to save the little girl if they could get the water out of her lungs and get her to breathe quickly enough. With a horrified start he realised that these people would never have heard of giving someone the kiss of life. If anyone was going to save the girl it would have to be him himself. Moving quickly, he crawled over and rolled the child onto her back, tilting her head back slightly and feeling for a pulse, cursing under his breath when he realised that there was no pulse present. With his mind racing he tried desperately to recall his CPR training from years earlier, trying to work out if the ratio of breaths to compressions was different in a child this young. Tilting her head back even further, with his fingers on the point of her chin, Jason leaned down, pinched the girl's nose firmly, sealed his mouth over hers and breathed out. He was dimly aware of the horrified gasps of the crowd, quickly turning to angry muttering – knowing what this must look like to them but not daring to stop. He followed the first breath with four more and then started chest compressions, pushing down firmly and fast thirty times. Two more rescue breaths followed before he returned to the child's chest. By this point he knew the crowd were starting to turn ugly and rough hands started to try to pull him away from the girl, angry voices shouting curses. His entire focus was on the child however, the rest of the world having fallen away somewhere behind him. Suddenly a new, female voice cut in, raising above all the others.

"Leave the boy alone," the unknown woman said. "Can't you see he's trying to help the child?"

"It's obscene," another voice rumbled.

"Look at what he's doing you damned fool," the woman growled. "He's breathing for her."

Jason nearly stopped what he was doing in surprise. He had never really expected anyone to recognise that he was trying to save the little girl – had half expected to be lynched when this was all over. Looking up he saw the same squat woman who had thrown him the knife had stepped between him and the other dockers. Even as he continued pressing rhythmically on the girl's chest, alternating thirty compressions with two breaths, he saw Perdikkas and the child's father joining the fishwife. The man was pale as he turned to looked at Jason hovering over the still form of his daughter, never stopping in his efforts to save her.

"Do whatever you need to," he instructed quietly. "Just save Castianiera for me."

Jason gave a curt nod and looked back down at the child under his hands. As he pushed on her chest again, the girl gave a weak cough and drew in one shuddering breath, followed quickly by another. Jason turned her onto her side as the water in her lungs poured out of her mouth and gently rubbed her back as her father rushed to kneel down on her other side, his eyes full of tears. As Castianiera's eyes fluttered open, she started to cry weakly and her father gathered her up in his arms, rocking her back and forth.

"Thank you," he said simply looking across his daughter to the clearly exhausted young man on her other side.

Jason sat back on his heels and balanced himself on his hands, letting his head drop forward and breathing heavily as the physical exertion began to catch up with him. He looked up as a callused hand gripped his shoulder, straight into the awed face of Perdikkas.

"That was truly amazing," the harbour master said. "Where in the name of the gods did you learn a thing like that? Sailed the sea since I was a boy and I've never seen anything like that. Damnedest thing I ever saw!"

Jason blinked slowly, trying to regather his thoughts along with his breath. The crowd of dock workers, fishwives and general gawpers was pressing closer around him and suddenly he felt almost claustrophobic. He'd never done well in crowds – had never been all that comfortable when attention was fixed on him. He looked around, eyes more than a little wild. Perdikkas narrowed his eyes thoughtfully at the boy, before offering him a hand and pulling him to his feet.

"Your day off tomorrow isn't it," he stated rhetorically, already knowing the answer even before Jason nodded. "Reckon you've done a good day's work today. Might as well let you go a bit early. Get yourself off home now and I'll see you bright and early the day after tomorrow." He counted some coins out – the usual payment for a day's work – and handed them to Jason, motioning the boy to go before the crowd could press in on him any more. Jason nodded gratefully at him and turned to leave, only to be stopped by another hand on his arm. This time it was the little girl's father who had risen with his daughter clutched securely in his arms.

"Thank you," he said earnestly once again. "Castianiera is everything to me ever since I lost her mother," he paused for a moment, overcome. "My name is Talos and I am a cloth merchant... not a very successful one I am afraid. If there is ever anything I can do for you please do not hesitate to look for me and ask. The harbour master knows where I live and work." He clasped Jason's arm and smiled as the young man responded in kind.

"It was nothing," Jason muttered, more than a little embarrassed by the attention.

"Nevertheless you have my thanks. You have given my life back to me," Talos said stroking his daughter's wet hair.

Jason smiled again and backed away, leaving the little family to each other. Once again he felt the old pang catch at him at the sight of a happy family, albeit such a small one in this case. Turning wistfully away, he raced off down the street before anyone else could stop him, darting towards home as quickly as his tired legs could carry him.

The journey back to the house was made in remarkably quick time, with only a brief stop at the agora to pick up a wine skin, which he carried on a thong running crossways over his chest, the skin itself bouncing on his hip as he ran. To be true he had had to swerve a couple of times to avoid vendors selling their wares and there had been one cart that he had had to vault over (he was almost sure he hadn't actually managed to knock any of the fruit off _this_ time) but all in all he had managed to get to his own front door extremely quickly and relatively uneventfully. Pausing at the top of the stairs to get his breath, he gently pushed his way inside.

Pythagoras was seated at the kitchen table, his scrolls laid out around him, ruler in hand and stylus clenched between his teeth, deep in thought. Jason smiled at the sight. The young genius' blonde hair was sticking up in all directions from his head where he had repeatedly run his hands through it or gripped the curls as he concentrated. It made him look even younger and was truly endearing. A clatter from the doorway to Hercules' room made Jason look across. The big man stood in the entrance to his room staring at his young brunette friend with a mixture of shock and disbelief.

"You're home early," he said in surprise. "Not that you shouldn't be of course. It's just that I wasn't expecting you to be finished yet," he paused. "You didn't get fired did you?"

Jason wasn't entirely sure whether he should be offended at the suggestion he had been fired in his first week at work or suspicious that Hercules seemed to know his schedule so well given the big man's recent behaviour.

"No I haven't," he said firmly. "They just let me go a bit early today"

"You have the day off tomorrow don't you?" Pythagoras asked absently without looking up.

"Yeah," Jason responded crossing the room and dropping the wine skin onto the table, eliciting an annoyed squeak from Pythagoras as it landed near his notes.

"Well I can't stand around talking to you all day," Hercules growled. "There's things to do and people to see..."

"And wine to be drunk," Jason interjected, ducking quickly as Hercules went to cuff him lightly around the ear.

"Don't be cheeky," his bulky friend admonished with a half smile. "I'll be back later."

"Where are you going?" Pythagoras asked, finally looking up.

"That is none of your concern," Hercules answered as he made his way out of the door.

Jason watched him leave thoughtfully, shivering slightly as the cooler air inside the house chilled his damp skin, his wet clothes clinging to him uncomfortably.

"Is it just me or is he acting really strangely?" he asked.

"Mmm," Pythagoras answered non-committally. He turned to look at Jason and frowned. "Jason why are you so wet?" he asked quizzically.

Jason laughed.

"That, my friend, is a long story," he said as he made his way towards his own bed in search of some warm and dry clothes.

* * *

Jason woke slowly from a nap he'd never intended to take. He had got as far as changing into dry clothing before exhaustion engendered by the exertion of his unexpected swim in the docks and the stress of rescuing the little girl overcame him. The shadows of evening were slowly creeping up the walls as he opened his eyes and a chill wind ruffled his still somewhat damp hair. Jason shivered slightly, wishing for the first time since he had arrived in Atlantis that he had a jumper to cover his bare arms. Standing, he made his way over to the fire where Pythagoras was stirring a pot.

"What's for dinner?" he asked softly.

Pythagoras jumped nearly dropping the spoon into the pot. He had been lost in his own thoughts, dreaming of his triangles. It was strange but he felt almost as though he were on the verge of a discovery – but whatever that discovery was seemed to be eluding him. Deep in thought he had not heard Jason cross the room and join him.

"You startled me," he exclaimed, heart racing and hand fluttering at his chest.

"Sorry," Jason responded abashed. He looked into the pot. "Is that that fantastic stew you do sometimes?"

Pythagoras smiled. He knew that his pork and bean stew was one of Jason's favourites and, as his friend's new job was primarily the reason he had extra money for food this week, he had felt almost compelled to make it.

"Yes," he answered, turning back to stir the pot once more and to check on the bread he had warming on the edge of the hearth.

Jason smiled softly at Pythagoras' kindness. He was in no doubt that the mathematician had made the stew primarily for his benefit as Hercules far preferred pies and Pythagoras himself tended to favour fish dishes when they had a reasonable supply of funds for food. Edging a little closer to the fire Jason stretched out his hands to warm himself, almost yelping as his palm brushed against the rough material of his trousers. Frowning at the unexpected sting, he withdrew his hands and turned them face up to examine them. Both palms were reddened and grazed and stinging like mad now that he thought about it. They had obviously been abraded by his encounter with the rope wrapped around the little girl's leg and the salt from the water that had been rubbed in was making them burn.

"Pythagoras?" Jason asked quietly. "You know I told you about fishing the little girl out of the dock earlier?"

"Yes," the young genius responded absently, checking the seasoning of the stew.

"I think I might have burnt my hands a bit on the rope," Jason stated. "I mean they're not too bad... just stinging... and I wondered if you might have anything that would help..." he trailed off.

Pythagoras raised an eyebrow. This was probably the first time that Jason had voluntarily asked for help when he was hurt in any way and the blonde somehow felt it was significant.

"Of course," he responded, smiling reassuringly. Putting down the spoon and taking his friend's hands in his own, he turned them over and examined the reddened palms. "You are right that they do not appear to be too bad," he said. "Go and wash them thoroughly and I will look for a salve to take the sting away."

Jason did as he was asked before returning to the table and placing his hands face up in front of his friend so that Pythagoras could spread the greasy salve he scooped out of a small jar across the surface. The ointment smelt faintly of lavender and was wonderfully cool and soothing.

"The salve contains comfrey and lavender," Pythagoras smiled at Jason's quizzical look. "It should soothe the rope burns and help them heal quickly."

"Thanks," Jason said softly. He looked around the kitchen as Pythagoras continued to tend his hands and frowned in confusion at the number of small cakes he saw lined up on the shelves.

"Are we expecting company?" he asked.

Pythagoras followed his gaze.

"No," he answered. "They are offerings for Proerosia."

"Proerosia?" Jason asked.

"You know I never fail to be astounded at the level of your ignorance," a gruff voice intoned from the doorway.

Both boys looked up to see Hercules leaning on the door frame watching them.

"Proerosia is a festival to ask for Demeter's blessing of the crops before the new planting season," Pythagoras explained patiently as Jason turned back to him. "We make offerings of the first fruits and of grains – usually in the form of bread and cakes. The festival will take place during daylight hours tomorrow. It is good that you will have the day off. Everyone dresses in their best clothes and takes their offerings to the Temple to give thanks for the last year's harvest and to pray for Demeter's blessing for the coming year."

Jason tried hard not to frown at the mention of dressing in "best clothes", painfully aware that he only had two tunics and neither of them would qualify as "Sunday best" as one of his former foster mother's would have called it. Mrs Johnstone had been very keen on "Sunday best" as he recalled and had never been entirely satisfied with Jason's appearance. He had never consciously tried to get dirty or to look scruffy but his seven year old self hadn't been particularly good at staying neat and tidy. Some things never changed, he thought wryly. Mrs Johnstone had been particularly concerned with his hair as he remembered, and had waged war on his mop of unruly curls with a comb right up until the day she had grown completely frustrated and had sat him down at the kitchen table with a pair of scissors and had cropped his hair as close to his head as she could manage. He hadn't particularly liked Mrs Johnstone and was only too aware that she hadn't really liked him. Fortunately his social worker had turned up for an unannounced and unexpected visit a few days later. Jason could still remember the raised voices that had come from the sitting room as he had sat on the stairs hugging his knees. His social worker, Miss Roberts, had been quite angry – had said that she had come to see a happy child and not "a ragged little scarecrow" – and had taken him away from Mrs Johnstone on the spot. He could clearly remember the ice cream sundae that she had bought him and how she had apologised and told him she would find him a really nice family – find him new parents who would love him – as he sat in silence. Silence had always been Jason's last line of defence – one that few people could breach or knew how to cope with. Perhaps as a direct result of his experiences with Mrs Johnstone, to this day Jason still didn't like "Sunday best" clothes; didn't like getting dressed up if he could help it. But he didn't want to embarrass Pythagoras by turning up to this festival in his usual rough tunic if everyone else would be wearing fancy clothes. He bit his lip as his two friends continued to talk about tomorrow's festival.

Finally aware of Jason's discomfort, Pythagoras looked at his friend seriously. He was only too aware that Jason had very few possessions and even less clothing of his own and had noticed him stiffen at the mention of wearing best clothes for the festival. Pythagoras nearly kicked himself. Of course Jason didn't have any better clothes than the ones he was wearing. He had arrived on their doorstep with nothing but the clothes he stood up in and there had rarely been enough money in the house since to allow him to go shopping. He had over the months managed to acquire a second set of tunic and trousers, very similar to his existing ones, but had never really had enough money to spend on better quality clothing. The mathematician tried to smile reassuringly and stood up from the table, making his way into his room and returning with some dark green cloth in his hands, hoping that his friend would not take offence at what he was about to do; would not see it as charity.

"I have been meaning to ask if you would like this," he said, holding out the cloth towards Jason. "My mother bought it for me but the colour does not suit me. It tends to make me look even more pale than normal. Sallow almost. I already have a best tunic and do not really need this. We are not that far off the same size even though you are more muscular than me and the colour would suit you much better than it does me."

Jason took the proffered tunic almost reverently, feeling the soft material in his hands – much finer than the rough homespun he usually wore – and tried to swallow past the sudden lump that had formed in his throat.

"Thank you," he said softly, gratefully.

Pythagoras nodded and turned away quickly. He didn't think he would ever get used to Jason's reaction to people being kind. What was to him no more than a normal everyday occurrence was clearly not something his friend ever expected or took for granted. The look of utter confusion followed by almost desperate gratitude never failed to catch at the mathematician's heart and he wondered once again what sort of life Jason had lead before he had arrived in Atlantis. Moving back to the fire, he grabbed a cloth on the way and, using it to protect his hands from the heat, lifted the pot and started to make his way back to the table, concentrating hard on not tripping over his own feet whilst carrying the boiling stew. At the table he placed the pot down and, taking three bowls from the shelves, started to ladle out the meal, noting almost absently that Jason had yet to put his new tunic down, clutching it to his chest the way a small child might clutch a blanket for comfort. He turned to look at Hercules and noticed the big man's eyebrow raised almost speculatively as he regarded their young dark haired friend.

"You ought to think about getting some warmer clothing," he rumbled. " Preferably something with sleeves. Winter's just around the corner."

Jason looked up, startled out of his thoughts.

"It does seem to be getting a bit colder," he admitted.

"The wind has changed," Pythagoras said. "Eurus is blowing."

"Eurus," Hercules intoned with foreboding, shaking his head meaningfully.

"Who or what is Eurus?" Jason asked.

He received incredulous looks from both his companions.

"Eurus is one of the Anemoi," Pythagoras explained in his "school teacher" tone. "He is the god of the east wind."

"And that's bad because?" Jason asked.

"The east wind is unlucky," Hercules interjected suddenly.

"It brings storms," Pythagoras added. "It brings change."

Hercules nodded his agreement.

"You mark my words," he said. "Change is coming... and not necessarily for the better."


	5. Chapter 5

A/N Thank you for the kind reviews - they are always much appreciated.

Ok so I'm hoping that this chapter is alright and doesn't descend into melodrama at the end... please review to let me know

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The next day dawned bright and clear, the autumn sun shining brightly. Pythagoras hummed soft tunes to himself as he began to lay out cakes and pastries for breakfast. It was much better fare than the three of them ate on a day to day basis but Pythagoras reasoned that today was a feast day. Besides which the extra money coming into the house on a daily basis from Jason's new job – however temporary that job might be – meant that he could afford a few luxuries occasionally and still put some money away for the future. Jason's wages might not be high but Pythagoras had long since learned the benefits of frugality and, as long as he could keep his hidden savings out of Hercules' gambling hands, he should manage to preserve enough money to see them through the lean times that would undoubtedly come at some point. He paused, looking at the table thoughtfully. While Hercules would definitely prefer wine, Pythagoras could not bring himself to serve alcohol this early in the day – it reminded him too much of his father's drinking habits. Instead he grabbed a jug of water, drawn freshly from the well that morning, and placed it on the table. The water was clear and surprisingly sweet. Pythagoras had crossed to the south side of the Canopic Way to fetch it shortly after sunrise. It was far from being the nearest well to their house but was the one with the cleanest water. He looked at the table again and smiled, happy that he had managed to provide a special spread for his friends. He glanced up as the door to Hercules' room opened and the big man himself wandered in.

"Breakfast. I need breakfast," Hercules grunted, eyes still half closed. He took the cup of water that Pythagoras offered him and slurped it noisily, eyeing the food spread out on the table hopefully as he sank onto a bench. He looked at the empty seat opposite himself speculatively.

"Is _he_ not up yet?" he asked with a frown.

Pythagoras quickly glanced towards Jason's corner alcove before turning back to his bulky friend. It was unusual for Jason to lie in – usually he was up and around before either of his housemates, pottering around their small home and undertaking small tasks quietly while he waited for his friends to get up.

"He has worked hard this week," the mathematician pointed out. "This is his day off. I think he is entitled to sleep in if he wants to. You do it often enough."

Hercules held his hands up in a gesture of peace. Pythagoras pretended not to notice the pastry the big man swiped from the table as they waited for the third member of their trio. A bell sounded in the distance.

"The procession that marks the start of the festival will begin soon," Pythagoras remarked.

"So what happens at this festival?"

They both turned in response to Jason's question, as the young man made his way from his bedroom tying his wrist braces and pulling the laces tight with his teeth as he went. Pythagoras smiled. He had been right. The dark green tunic fitted Jason very well and suited him far better than it had ever suited the young genius. His necklace stood out against the material, glinting as the morning sunlight caught it. Pythagoras stared at it as though seeing it for the first time. He had always believed the trinket to be made of brass and yet now that he thought about it he realised that it did not tarnish like brass. Against the dark fabric of Jason's new tunic Pythagoras would almost swear that the necklace was made of gold – but gold was most definitely the metal of the upper classes. He knew of no working man or woman that could afford jewellery made of it. Once again he speculated futilely on just where Jason had come from and who his family might actually be. Jason had by this time sat down in his usual place at the table alongside the mathematician and reached for a plate from the small stack. Gradually he became aware of Pythagoras' gaze and shifted a little self-consciously in his seat.

"What?" he asked defensively.

Caught staring Pythagoras' face reddened in embarrassment, his blush deepening as he glanced across the table and discovered Hercules looking at him with a raised eyebrow and an amused smirk. Clearing his throat, the young genius desperately looked for a way to divert attention before the good-natured teasing could begin in earnest.

"How are your hands this morning?" he asked catching Jason's nearest wrist and turning his hand over so that he could examine the palm properly. Most of the reddening seemed to have faded overnight, although one or two places still looked a little angry. Pythagoras let his friend's hand drop and got up to fetch the pot of ointment he had used the previous evening.

"What's wrong with your hands?" Hercules asked Jason, frowning deeply.

"It's nothing," Jason answered dismissively. "I burnt them a little bit on some rope down at the docks yesterday. Pythagoras put some gloop on them last night and they feel fine now."

Pythagoras gave an annoyed squeak at hearing his healing salve described as "some gloop".

"It was a properly mixed herbal remedy," he argued primly, even as he grabbed Jason's hands once again and started to spread some of the salve across the palms.

His friends shared a tolerant but amused look.

"Looks like gloop to me," Hercules said peering into the jar.

Jason grinned at Pythagoras' obviously growing irritation. He caught hold of the sleeve of the young genius' favourite indoor robe (he often had to stop himself from referring to it as a cardigan knowing that his two friends wouldn't know what he meant) as Pythagoras stood to return the jar of salve to its place on the shelves, task accomplished.

"Thanks," he said genuinely. Whatever was in the ointment had taken the sting out of his hands and he once again found himself grateful for having such caring friends. "You still haven't told me what happens at this festival," he added.

Pythagoras returned to the table and took a plate of his own, loading it with food. He smiled as he looked at his two companions once again. Hercules, as usual, had piled his plate high and was attacking it with gusto, albeit that he was spreading crumbs everywhere. Even Jason had taken more food than he usually did. He had once told them that he had always loved sweet things and it appeared that that still held true. Even though the circumstances of the discovery had not been desirable, Jason having been badly injured and very ill at the time, Pythagoras had still been grateful to have made it over the months that had followed, as it allowed him to tempt his younger friend's sometimes capricious appetite at stressful moments when, left to his own devices, Jason would probably not have eaten at all.

"Proerosia," the mathematician said, "is a festival of sacrifice to Demeter."

"Sacrifice?" Jason asked warily, thinking of the Minotaur.

Pythagoras smiled at his friend's conclusion.

"Not a blood sacrifice," he reassured Jason. "We make offerings of the first fruits of the harvest and of grains – usually as bread, cakes or specially made pancakes – to Demeter."

"Who's Demeter?"

Pythagoras nearly frowned. He never failed to be amazed and slightly confused by how little Jason knew of the gods. Once again he wondered what gods the other young man had grown up worshipping given that he clearly knew next to nothing of the Greek ones. Where exactly had Jason grown up? Pythagoras could almost believe (although he hated to think of it) that Jason came from the lands of the the barbarians far to the north.

"Is there really no end to your ignorance and stupidity?" Hercules asked, although his tone held no rancour.

Jason ignored that, as he usually did when the big man commented on his lack of knowledge. He knew his grasp of the history and particularly the religion of ancient Greece was somewhat shaky at best (although to be completely fair he'd never actually studied classics – what he did know of the mythology of the period tended to come from primary school) but he _had_ learned a lot since his arrival in Atlantis. Logically he knew that he couldn't cram a lifetimes worth of knowledge into a few short months, but every time his friends started talking about something that he didn't understand or know about it made him feel a bit like a child – a particularly lost or dense child. He sighed silently.

"Demeter is the goddess of agriculture and the harvest," Pythagoras explained. "She brings fertility to the earth."

"And to women," Hercules interjected with a lewd waggle of his eyebrows.

"Quite," Pythagoras said, blushing slightly. "The whole of Hellas once suffered a terrible famine and the Oracle at Delphi was asked how to stop it. She said that Apollo had ordered her to say that all men should make an offering of the first fruits of the harvest to Demeter to ask for her blessings for the crops. The crops bloomed and the famine ended. Since then we celebrate the festival of Proerosia and make offerings to Demeter. We also offer thanks to Apollo for his aid. Most of the rituals take place within the home, but in a short while there will be a procession to the Temple where the offerings of the people will be given to the goddess. After the ceremonies at the Temple there will be a festival of thanks in the streets."

"There'll be free cakes," Hercules said. "What could be better than that?"

His two younger companions shared an amused and affectionate look. Hercules could always be counted on to think with his stomach.

Pythagoras stood and started to gather up some of the bread and cakes he had reserved as offerings.

"We should go soon," he remarked. "The procession will begin before much longer and it would not do to be late."

Finishing bundling up the offerings in a cloth, he turned and motioned to his two friends, shepherding them out of the door in front of him.

* * *

Standing at a window overlooking the courtyard in front of the Temple steps, Pasiphae found that her eyes sought one particular figure in the throng of people enjoying the festival now that the main offerings to Demeter and Apollo had been made. Brightly coloured market stalls lined the edges of the courtyard, giving out cakes, wine and a kykeon made of ground goat's cheese, water, barley, herbs and honey which had also been offered as a libation at the Temple ceremonies earlier. The stalls were giving their wares to the people freely, funded out of the city coffers, and the populous was enjoying the bounty to the fullest. In the centre of the square an impromptu band had started playing and people were dancing around them. Near the stalls at the edge of the square, watching from the sidelines, stood the young man who the Queen was looking for. Her son was dressed differently to usual, Pasiphae noted almost absently. The dark green tunic he was wearing looked to be better quality than his normal clothing. With his dark hair and golden tan, the colour suited him very well, and the Queen noticed with some amusement that he was attracting plenty of attention from the female population – although he himself seemed largely oblivious. For a moment Pasiphae allowed herself to imagine what he would look like in court dress – her handsome, strong son openly at her side for all to see. She closed her eyes at the sudden stab of pain that flared up in her chest as she realised that circumstances meant that it was unlikely that she would ever actually see Jason that way – he could never truly be part of her life – and once again she cursed Aeson for taking the boy away from her; for making it impossible for her to acknowledge Jason in the way she wanted.

As the Queen watched, Jason wandered away from the side and was caught up in the twirling group of dancers. Tentatively at first, obviously unsure of the steps, but with quickly growing confidence he started to join in – dancing with the same unconscious grace that marked all his movements. As the dance came to an end, he excused himself and made his way back to his two friends over at a cake stall, out of breath and smiling. The blonde one said something and Jason threw back his head in laughter, giggling openly. He looked about himself with wide-eyed wonder, before catching hold of his blonde friend's wrist and dragging him back to the centre of the square to rejoin the dancers. Usually Pasiphae would look on the activities of the masses with barely concealed contempt but today was different – today she watched the proceedings as if she was looking through her son's eyes, saw the joy and wonder in his face and smiled softly to herself at his apparently innocent pleasure.

At another window in the Palace, Ariadne also watched the proceedings in the square below, although her mind was far away. Whilst she usually enjoyed the Temple ceremonies, today had felt almost like torture, being forced as she was to stand alongside her father's wife – a woman who had sought to kill her just a few short weeks before – and to make polite conversation with Pasiphae both for the sake of her father and for the sake of appearances. Shaking herself and pulling her mind back to the present, Ariadne looked down on the scenes in the square below and smiled. Unlike Pasiphae, the girl was always happy to see people enjoying themselves. In her eyes it was her duty to care for her people and to ensure that their lives were as easy as she could make them. Almost of their own accord her eyes sought out Jason and his two friends in the crowd – although she would have been horrified to realise that her actions mirrored those of her step-mother. She couldn't see him at first and felt a little stab of sorrow at the thought that she might have missed him; that he might have already left the square. While the King had been very firm in his instruction that Ariadne was to have no further contact with Jason, she still felt compelled to watch him – even though the thought that she could not speak to him caused her an obscure kind of pain.

Suddenly the crowd parted slightly and she saw him, trying to keep his friend Pythagoras from tripping over his own feet as they made their way back through the dancers in the centre of the square to where Hercules waited for them. Ariadne could see their light hearted banter even from where she stood and for a moment imagined herself down in the square with them, exchanging soft words and light jokes, simply enjoying each others company. She sighed and closed her eyes. In some ways she envied Jason; envied the easy but deep relationships he had with his friends; envied the fact that he had people around him who he could trust without question; envied his freedom. To live a life where no-one had any real expectations of her – to be free to love and be loved as she wished without fear of the consequences – to be able to spend a quiet evening in the company of trusted friends, knowing that no-one had any ulterior motives – these were things that the Princess dreamed of. And yet if she were to be given the choice of continuing with her current life or turning her back and finding a new simpler existence – free from all the constraints of society – she wasn't sure that she would change anything. To choose that simpler life would mean turning her back on her duty, turning her back on the people of Atlantis, and that was something that Ariadne would never be able to bring herself to do. She sighed again and turned away from the window, inexplicably saddened by the happy scenes she had just witnessed.

From the shadows of a doorway Alektryon watched his target with growing frustration. After his first attempt at drawing in the dark haired lad who lived with Hercules had been thwarted by Meriones, he had taken to haunting the boy's steps – always hiding out of sight in the shadows – waiting for another opportunity to strike. To his immense annoyance the boy had never been on his own since – or at least had never been in a position where Alektryon could gain access to him. Most of the time either Hercules or Meriones seemed to pop up whenever the lad was likely to be alone, and there were simply too many people at the docks for Alektryon to try anything there. It was the same with today's festival. Whilst he was sure that he could engineer a situation to separate the young man from his friends in the general hubbub of the festivities, there were so many people around that _someone_ was likely to spot him if he tried anything here. Today would be another day wasted. Alektryon grimaced. He would wait and bide his time, no matter how frustrating that might be, until a good opportunity presented itself – it was surely only a matter of time. Even Hercules could not stay by the lad's side forever, and the moment he was left alone Alektryon would strike.

On the street, Jason slipped away from his friends to go and examine a stall on the far side of the square. The festival was great fun – particularly when he had managed to persuade Pythagoras to join the dancing in spite of the mathematician's better judgement (after all Pythagoras knew he could trip over his own feet while walking in a straight line without the added complications of dance steps) – and he did appreciate his friends presence but after days of being followed around by Hercules and Meriones (and he had yet to get to the bottom of just what the hell was going on with those two), he was almost desperate to get some time to himself. The stall he found himself at was not one of the ones giving out free food (which Hercules was taking full advantage of) but was selling small trinkets. Idly Jason wondered if there was anything either of his friends would like even as he drifted off towards a small alleyway in search of some peace and quiet.

For a few minutes neither Pythagoras nor Hercules noticed that Jason had disappeared. The young genius was enjoying the sight of the revelry, glad to see so many people had come to take their religious obligations seriously even if they were celebrating now that the sacred rites were done. Hercules on the other hand was simply enjoying sampling the delights of the free food and free alcohol, relaxed and happy. Laughing to himself at the sight of the big man's gluttony, Pythagoras turned to make an amusing comment to Jason and frowned when he realised his younger friend was nowhere in sight.

"Where did Jason go?" he asked.

"Back to the dancing?" Hercules asked, paying more attention to the pie in his hand than to his companion. "He's got far too much energy for his own good."

"No," Pythagoras said peering at the dancers. "He is definitely not there." He shrugged. "Oh well I suppose we will find him at home later."

Hercules froze.

"Maybe we should try to find him now," he said, attempting a casual tone and failing miserably. "Jason is a bit too good at getting himself into trouble."

"I am sure he will be fine," Pythagoras answered, his frown deepening at Hercules' odd behaviour.

"Yes but he might end up doing something accidentally sacrilegious and you wouldn't want that on a feast day would you," Hercules argued, starting to make his way purposefully across the square.

Pythagoras caught hold of his arm in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Alright what is going on?" he demanded. "You have been acting strangely for days."

"I don't know what you mean," Hercules answered defensively.

"Yes you do. I am not the only one who has noticed. Jason remarked on your odd behaviour just yesterday," Pythagoras said firmly.

Hercules gulped and looked into the sincere blue eyes of the young mathematician. Pythagoras looked very serious and was clearly not going to let him go until he had found out exactly what the big wrestler had been up to. Hercules could try to bluster his way out of the discussion but ultimately that would just delay the inevitable. He sighed.

"Do you remember that I went to see Alektryon when we were searching for Dakos a few months ago?" he asked.

"Of course," Pythagoras responded. "I was not happy that you were trying to get information from him. The man is not to be trusted."

"Yeah well, while I was there Alektryon made some suggestions that I didn't like and I may have lost my temper a little bit," Hercules said shifting awkwardly.

Pythagoras raised an eyebrow.

"Go on," he said a little impatiently.

"I might possibly have threatened him," Hercules continued. "There were quite a few other people around and I might have embarrassed him in public."

"Hercules!" Pythagoras sounded shocked.

"About a week ago Meriones found Jason with Alektryon," Hercules said. "I think he was trying to get revenge on me. You know his reputation, Pythagoras. You know what he is likely to do."

"Why didn't you say something?" Pythagoras asked angrily. "Why have you not warned Jason?"

"I thought I could handle it myself," Hercules admitted. "I thought that as long as either Meriones or I made sure that Jason was not left alone Alektryon would never be able to bother him. It was only going to be until I had come up with something – until I had worked out how to stop Alektryon."

"I still do not see why you would not say something," Pythagoras complained.

"Because I thought I could protect you both," the big man answered wretchedly. "I knew you would know of Alektryon's reputation but Jason wouldn't have a clue. How was I supposed to tell him that a sick freak was after him? And that it was all my fault!"

Pythagoras sighed. What was done was done. Now all that was left was to try to find their friend and make sure no harm came to him. Then they could all sit down and have a chat about what had been going on and what they were going to do about it.

"Alright," he said. "Let's go."

* * *

Jason wasn't sure how far he wandered to get away from the noise of the celebrations. Letting his mind drift through pleasant daydreams his feet seemed to take him along of their own accord. The further he got from the city centre the less people he saw. It seemed that the whole of Atlantis – those who were not working that day anyway – had gathered in the streets around the Temple and the rest of the city seemed almost abandoned by comparison. Dusk had come and gone while he wandered and night was now falling fast. Jason supposed he should really start to make his way home soon – the night air was turning decidedly chilly now that the sun was gone – but he was enjoying the quiet and the solitude. He had always been a bit of a loner before he came to Atlantis and, while there had undoubtedly been times when he had been lonely, he had grown used to keeping his own company. Although he doubted that his two friends would understand, there were times when he needed to be alone, needed the peace and quiet to sort out his own head, without the constant presence of the others. Still, Pythagoras would probably be preparing something for an evening meal and it would be impolite of him to make his friends wait for him to wander home before eating. He turned down a side street that ran roughly in the direction of the house, even as he wondered just where the hell he actually was – this was definitely a part of the city that was unfamiliar.

Gradually, as he made his way in the direction of home, the young man became aware that someone was following him. More than one someone if the footsteps were anything to go by. Resisting the urge to break into a run, Jason suddenly turned sharply into another street, trying to shake off his pursuers without them being aware that he knew they were there. To his horror he found that the street was a dead end, as he came face to face with a blank wall. Turning back he noticed that there were no side doorways and no way of pulling himself up onto a roof – no handy beams for him to somersault off. All there was was a washing line strung between two of the rooftops and held up with a line prop. That at least would make a decent weapon if he needed it. Before he could get there, however, a large figure appeared out of the darkness and caught his arms behind his back, pinioning him in place. A second large figure materialised and came to stand in front, clearly ready to grab Jason if he should manage to escape from his first attacker. A third person, tall and gaunt, glided out of the darkness. As he came closer Jason realised with a start that it was the stranger who he had tried to help nearly a week earlier.

"Ah, hello my boy. I have been waiting to speak to you for several days," the stranger said with some satisfaction, his voice peculiarly high pitched and lisping

"What do you want?" Jason asked.

"Pleasure," the stranger answered. "Although I am afraid that you might find our 'discussion' a little more painful."

As Jason started to struggle in earnest, Alektryon smiled. He had been surprised to see the boy leaving his friends and had been excited when he realised the lad was wandering towards an almost deserted part of the city – most people being either at work or at the festival. He had quickly gathered his two bodyguards (newly acquired since his encounter with Hercules) – men just as depraved in their own way as he himself was – and had made off after the boy. Now everything was just as he wanted it. It was time for him to finally get his revenge on Hercules and bring this boy to his knees.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N Thank you for the lovely reviews. I hope that this one doesn't disappoint too much!

* * *

As he stepped forward towards Jason, Alektryon allowed himself a moment to gloat and to savour his victory. With a reptilian smile he ran one pale, long-fingered hand down the side of the boy's face. Jason tried hard not to shudder at the cold, clammy feeling of the touch against his face. He was unable to hide the flicker of fear that flashed through his eyes, and Alektryon's smile widened.

"So young," the man murmured. "So innocent. You will be an unrivalled pleasure to educate."

Jason fought the sudden urge to bite the hand that ghosted along his face. It would not pay him to act too hastily. It would be far better to bide his time and wait for an opening to escape. The problem was that he was fighting down waves of panic at the moment. Ever since he had been captured and tortured by Galanus even the very thought of being restrained was enough to make him anxious, so to be held with his arms pinned behind him, unable to move, was close to being his worst nightmare. He forced himself to relax and not to struggle against his captor. There was no point expending all his energy now when there was little chance of immediate escape. Alektryon frowned suddenly.

"No, no," he chided. "You must not give in so easily. You will quite spoil my pleasure if you do not fight back... and you wouldn't want to make me angry," his tone hardened.

Jason nearly smiled in spite of his fear. Knowing that it would distract this man more than ever – would make him angry and thereby more likely to make a mistake – he allowed himself to go limp within the grasp of his captor, pulling the man slightly off balance and forcing him to take most of Jason's weight. Alektryon's frown deepened into a scowl and he stepped even closer to the boy.

"You will rue the day that your friend Hercules crossed me and humiliated me," he hissed. "I will destroy your soul. Make your every moment a living nightmare. You will long for death before I have finished. Every time you close your eyes it will be my face that you see. I will send you back to Hercules broken beyond repair. It will destroy him. Only then will my revenge be complete."

Suddenly furious he backhanded the boy across the mouth, drawing blood from Jason's lip. This was not at all the way he had imagined it would be. He had dreamed that the lad would struggle futilely against the men restraining him, would fight to the end until his spirit was broken utterly. The fact that the young man seemed to have given up without a fight took the pleasure out of the situation. Slowly Alektryon drew his hand across Jason's lips, smearing the lad's blood on his own fingers which he raised to his mouth to taste, attempting to regain some of his earlier enjoyment.

"Yum yum," he said slowly licking his fingers. "I'm going to taste every part of you before we're done..."

Reaching forwards again he mashed his lips against the boy's, savouring the taste of fresh blood in his mouth. Pulling back slightly he cupped Jason's chin with his hand, resting his fingers on the boy's lips. Finally Jason reacted. He had chosen his moment carefully – waited until this creature was fully engrossed in what he was doing. Biting down as hard as he could, Jason ripped a great chunk of flesh from the man's hand, blood filling his mouth. As Alektryon screamed and pulled away, clutching his mauled and bleeding hand, Jason went rigid against the man holding him captive, butting his head backwards into the face of his guard, even as he brought his feet up off the floor, using the man's grip on his arms as leverage, and drove his heels into the face of the thug in front of him. He was satisfied to hear his captor's nose break and to see the other malefactor drop to the floor clutching his own face. As the thug behind him loosened his grip, Jason jumped free and grabbed for the line prop, swinging it at the legs of all three men, tumbling them into a heap of jumbled limbs. Spinning on his heel he took off like a jack rabbit, running as fast as he could in the direction of home and safety.

A couple of streets from the house he finally stumbled to a halt, reasoning that there were enough people around that he was fairly certain of being safe. Pausing to gather his scattered wits and to calm himself down a little before returning home he drew in a shuddering breath. To his own annoyance he seemed to be unable to stop his hands from shaking. Everything was suddenly hideously clear. The odd behaviour and constant supervision from Hercules and Meriones made sense. Jason shook himself, his anger growing. It was clear now that Hercules had known about this man; had known that he was targeting Jason – although the young man did have to wonder why it was himself and not Pythagoras that had been the object of the man's revenge – he would have thought that the mathematician was a more obvious target. And he was angry, oh so angry, that the big wrestler had chosen not to tell him in advance; had not warned him of the danger. Just who did Hercules think he was keeping this from Jason? He was perfectly capable of looking after himself – had done so now for many years – and was beyond insulted that Hercules clearly believed he was not. Had Pythagoras known too? Jason really hoped not because if he had then it indicated that neither of his friends really trusted him despite the things they had said in the past. A soft noise behind him startled him out of his thoughts and he took off at a run again, suddenly afraid that he had been followed. All he wanted now was to be back within the safety of home, with a door between him and the horrors of the night. He would deal with Hercules and his choices later.

* * *

Pythagoras paced up and down the kitchen anxiously. He and Hercules had left the festival intent on finding Jason before anything could happen to their friend. They had not found him in any of the streets near to the Temple or on the way home. Pythagoras chewed his lip fretfully. It was almost as though Jason had disappeared. Both his friends knew, however, that he had a tendency to wander aimlessly when he needed to think. Pythagoras had secretly followed Jason once when he was having one of his darker days. Jason had walked for miles, apparently unaware of his surroundings, deep in thought. If that was what he was doing now then he could well be just about anywhere in the city. It seemed pointless to keep looking when they didn't even know the direction Jason had gone in so Pythagoras had returned home in the hope that his younger friend turned up there, while Hercules had gone looking for Meriones to explain the situation and try to get some extra help. Pythagoras had been waiting at home with growing anxiety ever since. It was now well into the night and neither of his friends had yet returned.

A noise from the doorway made him turn. Hercules walked purposefully into the room, looking about himself hopefully. When he realised Pythagoras was alone his face dropped.

"He's not back yet then?" he asked.

"No," Pythagoras started to worry at his lip again. "Did you find Meriones?"

Hercules shook his head.

"He's been called out of the city on urgent business for a few days. Gelo has gone with him. I found Kerkyon and he promised me he'll keep an eye out. I don't know what else to do." The big man's voice betrayed his worry.

"Keep an eye out for what?" Jason's voice was low and dangerous.

Both of his friends turned towards the doorway, their mouths hanging open in a way that would almost have been comical if it hadn't been immediately apparent that the situation was serious.

Jason stood with his back to the door, having pulled it shut behind himself, and was hanging on to it as though he could stop it from ever being opened again. Pythagoras flinched. His younger friend looked horrible – face pale, mouth bloody and eyes smouldering dangerously. The murderous look Jason levelled at Hercules was nothing short of frightening and the big man unconsciously took a step backwards. The young man stepped further into the room and grabbed a cup of water from the table, repeatedly rinsing his mouth and spitting the contents into a bowl without having uttered another word to his friends.

The truth was that Jason didn't actually trust his voice not to waver and break at the moment. He clung to his righteous sense of anger to keep other more painful emotions at bay. Whatever happened he would not fall apart in front of his friends and the anger helped him to achieve that. The combination of blood in his mouth – both his attacker's and his own – and the memory of the cold clammy hand on his skin made him feel sick and dirty. Rinsing his mouth out at least took the taste away even if it couldn't take the memories out of his head. Moving towards his own bed he started to strip off his tunic, needing suddenly – almost desperately – to wash and feel clean again. Grabbing his usual rough homespun top from under the bed, he came back to the table and grabbed a cloth, scrubbing hard at the skin on his arms.

Pythagoras watched his silent actions with growing horror almost scared to ask what had happened to cause Jason's unusual behaviour, but horribly afraid that he already knew the answer. He finally stepped forward and grabbed the cloth away from his dark haired friend when Jason showed no signs of stopping and seemed as though he might actually scrub off his own skin. Jason bent over, spreading his hands on the table and dropped his head forward until his chin was almost on his chest. There were finger-mark bruises darkening on his arms. For a minute no-one spoke; no-one knew what to say. Finally Pythagoras rallied himself.

"We missed you at the festival," he said trying to keep his tone light. "Where did you go?"

Jason barked a short laugh. A harsh bitter noise that sounded wrong coming from him.

"Don't know," he answered, voice still low and angry. "I needed to think. I don't seem to have had much time to myself lately – I keep running into people wherever I go." He raised his head and levelled a long hard look at Hercules.

For his part the big man returned the furious gaze with a calm look.

"Why do you think that is?" Jason continued in the same tone, turning to look at Pythagoras. "Why is it that my "friends" seem to be stalking me? To be keeping things from me?"

"Jason..." Hercules started.

Jason turned to the bulky wrestler with a twisted half-smile.

"Were you planning on telling me that there was a pervert looking for me or were you waiting for me to find out for myself? Because if that's what you were waiting for it worked."

Hercules' blood ran cold.

"What happened?" he asked desperately.

"I dealt with it," Jason answered flatly.

"Dealt with it how?"

"Does it matter?" Jason answered. "I don't think he'll bother me again." He sank onto a bench and dropped his head into his hands suddenly incredibly tired.

"He didn't hurt you?" Hercules demanded.

"A split lip is all. I didn't let him get that far."

"Thank the gods," Hercules breathed, sitting down heavily on a stool and looking hard at the young man on the other side of the table, trying to make sure that Jason was telling the truth.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Jason asked.

"I thought I could protect you," Hercules answered. "I thought I could protect both of you." He gestured towards Pythagoras.

Jason barked a short laugh again.

"What made you think I needed your protection?" he growled. "I can look after myself. I always have. And it's not as if it would have been the first time I'd been propositioned." He sounded more tired than angry by this point and Pythagoras took it as his cue to sit down and pull Jason's hands away from his face to examine the split lip and bruised arms – needing to make sure for himself that the damage wasn't any worse. He was surprised when Jason resisted his gentle hands, pulling away sharply and standing suddenly, his back rigid as he turned away from them. Jason's hands were clenched into fists by his sides in an attempt to stop his friends from seeing how much he was shaking.

"Jason, please," the mathematician started.

"Did you know too?" Jason demanded.

"Not until after you left the festival," Pythagoras said placatingly. "We both knew Hercules was acting strangely but I had no more idea than you as to why. He was forced to tell me what was going on after you disappeared."

"And what was going on?"

Hercules shifted uncomfortably.

"Do you want the long version or the short version?" he asked.

Jason scowled.

"When do you _ever_ tell the short version of anything?" he asked.

"Jason!" Pythagoras sounded shocked, distressed at the anger and bitterness in his friend's voice.

Jason flicked his hand in a curt gesture of apology before motioning Hercules to continue.

The big man swallowed hard.

"Alektryon..." he started.

"Was that his name?" Jason interjected. "He never actually bothered introducing himself... I think that would have come later."

"Alektryon is a businessman," Hercules began again. "Like Meriones only less... restrained. He's involved in dealings that Meriones wouldn't even think about. He also has a dark reputation. He likes boys and young men... not that I've anything particularly against that... it's just that he prefers it if they aren't willing."

Jason's eyes hardened.

"Go on," he said curtly.

"When I was trying to find out where the merchant, Dakos, was... before I went to see Meriones... I went to see Alektryon." Hercules paused for a moment. "I don't like dealing with him," he admitted, "but he does have access to plenty of information through some of his darker dealings. Anyway, while I was there he may possibly have made a couple of suggestions that I didn't like and I might just have knocked him to the ground and threatened to cut off his goolies."

"You did what?" Pythagoras interrupted incredulously.

"I _really_ didn't like what he was suggesting," Hercules growled. "When Meriones saw you with him last week..." he continued, turning back to Jason, "when we realised he was posing as a helpless old man to try to trap you... we knew he was trying to get revenge on me."

"Yes," Jason said bitterly. "He said. It still doesn't explain why you didn't tell me though."

"I am sure that Hercules was only trying to do his best, Jason," Pythagoras said soothingly, trying to break the tense atmosphere between his friends.

"Best for who?" Jason asked.

"Best for you," Hercules answered hotly.

"Who the hell do you think you are deciding what was best for me?" Jason finally lost his fragile grip on his temper. "You're not my father."

"No," Hercules shouted back irrationally angry. "I'm your friend." His anger drained away suddenly, replaced by sorrow at what his boy had been through tonight. "I'm your friend," he repeated softly.

"I don't need friends who'll keep this sort of thing from me because they think they're "protecting" me," Jason hissed back. "I need friends who know that I can look after myself. Who won't keep following me around until I want to scream. Friends who'll trust me." He stopped and took a deep shuddering breath, everything that had happened that evening finally catching up with him. Trying hard to keep a grip on himself, he closed his eyes and wrapped his arms around his stomach – hugging himself almost desperately.

Pythagoras stepped forward and caught hold of his younger friend's shoulders firmly, pulling Jason into an embrace in spite of the other young man's initial resistance.

"Do not shut me out," he almost pleaded. "I only want to help."

"I'm fine," Jason responded automatically.

"You are _not_ fine," the mathematician stated firmly. "You have been shaking ever since you came home."

Jason tried to smile, although anger still simmered in his eyes warring with fear and horror.

"I will be alright," he reassured Pythagoras. "Really." He pulled away again, sending another dark look towards Hercules. "I just need to calm down a bit. I think I'm going to go to bed before I say something I'll really regret."

"Jason," Pythagoras began, "you have still not told us exactly what happened tonight."

"Pythagoras I really do need to calm down," Jason said. "I'm worked up and I'm upset, but most of all I'm bloody angry... There's nothing that happened tonight that can't be fixed... he didn't get the chance to do too much to me... but I don't really want to talk about it yet. Just let me get my head sorted out and then we'll talk, okay?"

Before either of his friends could answer, Jason slipped back across the room and lay down on his bed, turning his back on the world and effectively ending all further conversation for the evening.

* * *

Queen Pasiphae was almost incandescent with rage. Her spies had reported back to her early that morning, telling her what had happened the night before. Pasiphae clenched her fist, nails digging into her palm. That man... that creature... that _thing_ had dared to attack her son in that way. She took a deep breath and tried to calm herself down, knowing that a rational head would be needed to deal with the situation. She had delayed too long already; had given the creature the opportunity to strike at Jason through her inaction. Well he would not be allowed any further chances to hurt the boy. Mind working busily, Pasiphae decided on her next move.

Quickly she stepped out of her room and hurried towards the private study where Minos usually conducted his day to day business. He would need to be in a receptive mood, she thought, but there were ways she could create that even if he wasn't. Slipping through the doorway she saw her husband ahead of her, sitting at his desk with his back to her, deep in thought as he read through some papers. Pasiphae glided over to him gracefully.

"You work too hard My Lord," she said.

Minos half turned to look at her, a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"I believe you told me that once before," he answered.

"But it is nonetheless true," Pasiphae stated.

Her husband sighed softly.

"There are simply too many decisions that the king must make himself," he said. "But my burdens always seem lighter when you are by my side." He grasped the hand she placed on his shoulder affectionately. "What has brought you to my chambers?" he asked gently

"A situation has arisen in the city," Pasiphae began. "It has been brought to my attention and I could not ignore it. I felt compelled to bring it to you so that you might bring your wisdom to bear."

Minos frowned.

"What sort of situation."

"I have been informed that there is a man in the city who has been preying on young men and boys. Many of them little more than children. He commits unspeakable acts against these young men. Hunts them as though they were animals," Pasiphae paused as though overcome by the thought.

"Why have we heard nothing about this before," Minos asked, his frown deepening. The king in him was instantly angered to hear of such violence being committed in _his_ city, while the father was horrified at the thought that such acts were being committed against young men potentially no older than his daughter.

"Because many of the boys he harmed in this way were simply too afraid, or hurt, or broken to say anything," the Queen answered. "Last night he attacked another young man. I am told that it was the boy who killed the Minotaur and so recently saved Ariadne from Heptarian's plot. The boy who we owe so much to. I am lead to believe that he got away unharmed but his attacker is free to target another one of our citizens. The people are suffering because of this creature, My Lord. I thought that in your wisdom you might know how to relieve their suffering."

Minos steepled his hands together and looked out the window. The thought that there was such a monster running free in his city disgusted him.

"Do you know this man's name?" he asked Pasiphae sharply.

"I believe it is Alektryon," Pasiphae responded. "He is a merchant."

Minos nodded and stood up. He caught his wife's hands in his own.

"You have done well to bring this to my attention," he said.

"It was no more than my duty," Pasiphae answered. "We are guardians of the people and must look to their well-being."

The King nodded and smiled, pleased by the Queen's care for the people. He crossed to the door and stopped a passing servant.

"Have the Captain of the Guard meet me in the council chamber at once," he ordered.

* * *

The sun was well and truly up when Alektryon made his way to his place of business. His hand was swathed in bandages and throbbed unmercifully. Once again Alektryon cursed the dark-haired lad who lived with Hercules, as he had already done many times since the boy had got away from him. It was not fair, he decided. First Hercules had humiliated him in public, damaging his reputation, and now this _boy_ had defied him – had hurt him. They would both be made to pay. He would have the boy; would break him. Perhaps he might even make Hercules watch. Gratified at the thought, he continued down the street, only to find his path blocked by a troop of guards. Alektryon frowned.

"You are Alektryon the merchant?" the leader of the guards asked.

"Yes," Alektryon responded, his frown deepening.

"Then you're under arrest," the guard said with a smirk. "Seize him," he ordered his men.

Suddenly Alektryon found that his arms were being held on both sides by guards. Without another word they frogmarched the man down the street towards the cells that lay beneath the Palace.

* * *

It was evening by the time that Pasiphae slipped down to the cells, having first made sure that the guards were safely out of the way having some supper. The prison was actually remarkably empty – justice in Atlantis tended to be swift and violent. Moving quickly she made her ways past the deserted cells until she came to the one she wanted. At the doorway she paused and smiled to herself.

Alektryon lay curled up in the corner of the room. His head lolled on his chest, blood still seeping from his nose and mouth, mute testament to the fact that the guards had been less than gentle with him. Pasiphae stepped forward, a rag in her hand.

"You are in a great deal of trouble," she said. "If you confess to your crimes I will see to it that your death is less painful." She dabbed at the man's nose with the cloth, soaking it in his blood while appearing to try to help him.

"I have done nothing wrong, My Lady," Alektryon answered.

"Come now," Pasiphae said. "How can you expect me to help you when you do not tell me the truth?"

"I am innocent," Alektryon responded.

"Then you have made your choice." Pasiphae almost gloated, pleased that the creature had refused her offer. He had attempted to cause her son pain and now she would make sure that the hours spent before his trial and inevitable execution were spent as agonisingly as possible.

"I am innocent."

"Wrong answer," Pasiphae said. She stood, muttering a few words under her breath and held the blood stained rag over a candle flame, smiling to herself as Alektryon began to scream.


	7. Chapter 7

A/N Once again thank you for the reviews - they really do encourage me to write (hint, hint!)

* * *

Jason tiredly shifted another box onto the growing pile by the warehouse wall. He knew he wasn't exactly at his best today – was a bit slower than usual and less inclined to engage in conversation – and he had caught the harbour master watching him carefully and frowning. The problem was that he hadn't really slept last night. Had lain awake in the dark, his encounter with Alektryon and his thugs repeating over and over in his head. He had risen even earlier than usual, unable to maintain the pretence of sleep any longer, and had slipped out of the house before either of his friends had got up. He'd done that on purpose of course, knowing that he was still far too angry to face Hercules and unwilling to start another argument, particularly so early in the morning. The thought of food had turned his stomach, however, and he had come out without either breakfast or the lunch bundle that Pythagoras had made for him – as he had been doing every day since Jason had started this job. Not wanting to risk another meeting with Alektryon and his men – however unlikely that seemed given the events of last night – Jason had run all the way to work, arriving extremely early and very out of breath. He had kept himself to himself all day, avoiding the curious gazes of the other dockers – still stunned by his saving the little girl two days before – and keeping his head down wherever possible. The constant hive of activity in the harbour took his mind off other things and Jason threw himself back into his work with renewed vigour, craving the distraction that hard work brought. All the same the sheer noise of the docks – the constant discordant shouting of the dockers and fishwives – played on his frayed nerves and he found himself jumping inexplicably every time someone brushed against him. He shook himself firmly, telling himself that he was being stupid and nothing was actually wrong.

Perdikkas watched Jason with a frown. What he had done the last time he had been in work had been truly amazing and yet the boy did not act like the "heroes" the harbour master sometimes met in the taverns – was not boasting of his achievements and seemed to be trying to avoid praise and attention. Over the last two days, thinking about his newest worker, Perdikkas had come to the conclusion that the lad was not stand-offish like some of the older dockers thought but actually probably a little shy. The harbour master smiled softly to himself. That was not a problem. With his own bluff but friendly ways he had a talent for drawing shy people out of themselves; for persuading them to make friends. Jason seemed troubled today, was not working as quickly as usual and was quieter than normal – jumpier. Perhaps a friendly ear was needed to help the lad deal with whatever was troubling him. With a nod to himself Perdikkas made his way over to the young man and placed a hand on his shoulder.

The light touch on his shoulder made Jason jump, spinning around instantly ready to defend himself if necessary, with his heart pounding and eyers wide. He had not heard the harbour master approach and his mind instantly flew back to the events of the night before. Even in the light of day the memories made him shudder, skin crawling at the thought of the pale clammy hand caressing his face and he closed his eyes for a moment to try to control his suddenly erratic breathing. Nothing had actually happened, he sternly reminded himself, pushing the memories back down – Alektryon had not been given the chance to do much – and he instantly felt slightly ridiculous for his over-reaction.

"Sorry," he muttered.

Perdikkas looked at the young man seriously, taking in the bloodshot, tired eyes, the finger bruises on the arms and the slightly swollen lip. Something had happened since the last time he had seen Jason – something that had obviously disturbed the boy – and Perdikkas felt the need to know what that something was. His workers were to a certain extent his responsibility and he liked them to be happy – happy workers got more done after all.

"Everything alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jason tried to smile, feeling the skin pull tight across his face as he plastered on the façade of being fine – hid behind the smile that had served him so well in the past. "You startled me. I must have let my mind wander a bit... sorry."

"If something's troubling you lad I want you to know you can come to me, right?" Perdikkas stated, eyes narrowing. "I know the lads can be a bit rough," he continued, gesturing towards the other dockers who were currently unloading a large merchant ship, "but we're like a family here. You haven't been here long enough to see it. But hurt one of them and you hurt them all. If you've got a problem they'll see you right."

Jason smiled more genuinely this time.

"I really am alright," he insisted. "I'm just a bit tired," he hesitated for a moment. "I mean... something did happen but it's nothing I can't handle."

Perdikkas nodded. If the lad truly didn't want to talk right now then he wouldn't be the one to push him.

"Alright," he said. "You know where I am if you need me."

Turning back to his manifests he walked away from Jason, mind already back on his job.

Jason sighed as Perdikkas walked away. For the first time since he had started to work at the docks he couldn't wait for the day to be over – couldn't wait to get back behind the doors of his home and away from prying eyes, both friendly and otherwise. Of course that would mean facing Hercules sooner or later but he was fairly sure that he could keep a grip on his temper now – at least that was what he hoped. Finally finishing stacking the crates he was working on, he moved over to join the main group of dockers at the large merchant vessel. To his horror the group parted as he walked up and started staring at him curiously, awe clearly written on several faces. Jason cringed. He had never done well under that sort of scrutiny – far preferred it if attention was diverted away from him – and tended to get a bit anxious when too many people were looking at him. Today it somehow felt even worse – as though everyone was staring at him and all he really wanted to do was bolt, to find somewhere where he could be alone and feel safe. His breath started to quicken as his heart rate sped up a little, every nerve on edge.

Old Sinis stood at the front of the group of dockers. As Jason approached he looked at the young man with a speculatively raised eyebrow.

"The lads wanted to have a bit of a chat about what happened the other day," he said.

Jason tensed even more, feeling more uncomfortable than he had at any other time since his arrival in Atlantis. The last thing he really wanted to do was talk about himself or anything that had happened recently.

"It was nothing," he muttered.

"I hardly think it was nothing," Sinis argued. "I've worked on this dock for thirty years and I've _never_ seen anyone who drowned come back to life before. Now I don't know how you did it – or what exactly you did – but that little girl was dead and you saved her. I'm not a religious man but that can only have been a gift from the gods. The lads wanted me to tell you that they're proud you're one of us. Anything you need just let us know."

Jason ducked his head, an embarrassed flush spreading on his cheeks.

"Thanks," he said awkwardly, desperately hoping that they didn't expect him to make some sort of speech – public speaking had never been one of his strong points.

Sinis smiled slightly and nodded.

"Right then," he said. "Back to work."

By the time of the afternoon tide Jason was beyond tired and wound up tighter than a spring. If one more person brushed against him he thought he might actually scream. Did people in Atlantis really have no idea of personal space, he thought irritably as he lined up with the other dockers to receive his day's pay. Stepping away from the group once he had his wages in hand he paused for a moment to try to calm himself down. It would be no good going home worked up – he would only be likely to start another argument with Hercules and that in turn would upset Pythagoras. An insistent tug at the hem of his tunic made him spin around, ready to shout at whoever was disturbing him now, and looked down into a pair of huge clear blue eyes looking back at him hopefully. He started in surprise, almost failing to recognise the little girl from the other day until her father came puffing up, out of breath from trying to catch his daughter.

"Cassie," Talos admonished the child, "how many times do I have to tell you not to go running off at the docks? Look what happened the other day!"

The child looked suitably contrite with her lower lip trembling, although her eyes still glinted with mischief. Her father turned towards Jason.

"I'm sorry," he apologised. "She just wanted to thank you herself."

Jason felt his cheeks growing hot again.

"There's nothing to thank me for," he said. "Anyone would have done the same."

"No, I don't think they would," Talos said frankly.

Jason started to duck his head in embarrassment, only to be stopped by the little girl slipping her hand trustingly into his as she produced a small clay doll dressed in a miniature replica of Princess Ariadne's court dress from behind her back and presented it to him for inspection.

"Arisbe wants to say thank you too," she informed Jason in a high and clear voice with just the faintest hint of a childish lisp.

"Arisbe is my daughter's favourite doll," Talos stated.

The little girl stamped her foot, eyes flashing angrily.

"Arisbe isn't a doll, Daddy," she told her father mutinously. "She's my best friend."

"Oh I am sorry," Talos answered with some amusement.

Castianiera's frown deepened.

"Say sorry to Arisbe too," she instructed.

"I'm so sorry, Arisbe," Talos said to the doll. "It was unforgivable of me to hurt your feelings in this way."

Jason smiled softly at the obviously close relationship between father and daughter. He crouched down to the child's level and addressed the doll seriously.

"You're very welcome, Arisbe," he said.

The little girl beamed.

"I'm Cassie," she informed Jason, "and I'm six. What's your name?"

"I'm Jason," the young man answered her softly.

"Jason," her father mused. "That's appropriate given what you did for my daughter."

Jason looked up at him with a light frown.

"Why?" he asked.

"You don't know what your name means then?" Talos responded.

Jason shrugged.

"Not really," he admitted.

Talos smiled.

"It means healer," he informed the young man. He hesitated for a minute before continuing. "You must have thought me terribly rude the other day," he said regretfully. "You saved Cassie's life and I didn't even bother to ask your name."

"You had other things on your mind at the time," Jason answered quietly. His attention was drawn back to the little girl as she tugged at his tunic again.

"Will you be my friend?" she asked.

Jason smiled and nodded. He wasn't entirely sure what being friends with a six year old girl would entail but wanted to make the girl happy.

"And Arisbe's too?" Cassie requested.

"Of course," Jason answered seriously.

Castianiera squealed with delight and threw her arms around Jason's neck. Jason tensed at the touch before forcing himself to physically relax and wrapping his own arms around the child.

Talos put his hand on his daughter's shoulder.

"We have to go," he said.

Cassie pouted, wrapping her arms a little more tightly around Jason.

"Come on," her father insisted. "We have to go home and have supper."

"Can Jason come too?"

Talos smiled.

"I think Jason probably needs to go back to his home," he answered gently. "We'll have to see if he can visit us another time," he smiled slightly apologetically at the young man.

Jason carefully peeled the little girl's arms from around his neck.

"My friends will be waiting for me at home," he told the disappointed child. "But I'm here at the docks most days."

He stood up as Talos picked up Cassie and watched them leave wistfully, the little girl chattering away in her father's arms. She was so innocent and trusting and clearly had a wonderful relationship with her father. Jason sighed thinking of his own past. Sometimes he didn't think life was very fair.

From the far side of the docks, Pythagoras watched his friend with some concern. He had arrived in time to see Jason lining up with the other dock workers to receive payment for the day, although Jason had clearly been unaware of his presence. He had noticed the way Jason flinched every time someone had jostled or brushed against him and could clearly see the tension in his friend's shoulders. Pythagoras chewed his lip fretfully, worried about his friend. Then the man and the little girl had approached Jason and the brunette had seemed to relax a little, only to stiffen when the child had hugged him. Now he was looking after them as they walked away with a pensive expression that almost broke the mathematician's heart. He frowned slightly and made his way over to Jason.

"Are you alright?" he asked, refraining from grabbing Jason's arm in case it startled his friend.

Jason whipped around and scowled.

"Are you my baby-sitter today?" he snapped irritably. "I would have thought Hercules would have at least sent one of Meriones' men."

He was instantly ashamed of his flash of bad temper when he saw the hurt expression that flickered through Pythagoras' eyes.

"No one has sent me," the mathematician answered coolly, "I had to visit the agora and I simply thought you might like the company on your journey home. As I was mistaken I will leave."

"Sorry," Jason said genuinely. "I don't know what's got into me. I've just had a bad day. I shouldn't take it out on you."

"No, you should not," Pythagoras agreed, still a little hurt.

Jason grimaced.

"Sorry," he said again.

Pythagoras looked at his friend with some concern. Up close the tension that Jason was radiating was almost palpable. He clearly needed to decompress and going home to the house and Hercules might not be the best idea. The mathematician made a quick decision about his next course of action. He smiled gently at Jason.

"Apology accepted," he said. "I did have another motive for coming down here."

"What was that?" Jason asked.

"I wanted to get out of the city for an hour or two. The triangles are annoying me. I feel as though I am on the verge of something – but I cannot think clearly. I sometimes find that a short trip to rediscover the beauty of the natural world around me stimulates my thoughts and allows me to refocus my concentration. I was intending to make a short visit to the beach to look at the wonders to be found along the shoreline. I was hoping that you might be willing to keep me company."

Jason smiled, visibly relaxing for the first time since Pythagoras had arrived.

"Lead on," he said.

* * *

The azure colour of the sea mirrored that of the sky perfectly as the bright afternoon sun baked down on the white sands of the beach. Overhead gulls veered and turned, calling raucously to one another as they swooped over the waves in search of fish, their wings blindingly white as the sun caught them. This had been a very good idea, Pythagoras decided as he watched Jason out of the corner of his eye. The brunette lad had completely relaxed now that they were away from the bustle of the city and was sitting with his feet buried in the hot sand watching the waves gently lapping at the shore.

"I think this was where I came ashore." Jason's voice startled Pythagoras out of his thoughts. He sounded almost dreamy and lost in thought. "When I first got to Atlantis I mean." He tore his eyes away from the sea and squinted at the mathematician in the bright sunshine.

"You came from the sea then," Pythagoras said softly, silently hoping that Jason would tell him more and he would finally have some of his questions about his friend answered.

Jason smiled vaguely, still lost in thought.

"Yeah," he agreed. He turned his eyes back to the sea as though he was searching for something in the scene before him. "There was a bright light and then everything imploded around me and I was in the water. I woke up on the beach – well in the surf."

Pythagoras nodded softly to himself. It sort of made sense that Jason had been shipwrecked and had washed up on the shore of Atlantis given the strange things he had said when Pythagoras had first met him – clearly he had still been in shock at the time. Looking back now with the benefit of hindsight, the mathematician couldn't believe that he had never worked it out before.

Alongside him Jason had gone quiet again. He had suddenly realised that he had been on the verge of telling Pythagoras one of his biggest secrets – the one that the Oracle had ordered him never to tell anyone. He sighed silently. There were so many secrets buried deep within him and this was just one more that he couldn't tell. He would dearly have loved to tell Pythagoras though – would have loved to tell him everything. But somehow he was afraid that his blonde friend would want nothing more to do with him if he found out the truth – that he would finally see Jason for who he really was and wouldn't like what he saw. His mood darkened and suddenly the day didn't seem as bright as it had only moments before.

"Pensiveness does not suit you." It was Jason's turn to be startled by Pythagoras. "What troubles you my friend?"

Jason half smiled.

"Nothing really," he answered. "I was just thinking about the past."

Pythagoras smiled softly.

"Our past shapes us but it does not define us," he said. "I have learned not to be a prisoner of it."

Jason chuckled slightly.

"That's very deep thoughts for an afternoon at the beach," he remarked. "I thought you were trying to clear your head not fill it." He stood suddenly and shook himself. "I fancy a swim," he added removing his tunic and running lightly down towards the surf.

The next couple of hours passed pleasantly. Jason swam to his hearts content watched from the beach by a relaxed Pythagoras who was far too comfortable on the soft sand to even think about joining his brunette friend. Finally the dark haired young man made his way back up the beach, exhausted but content and flopped down next to the mathematician, letting the sun both dry and warm him before putting his tunic back on.

"Did you have fun?" Pythagoras asked his tone amused.

Jason rolled onto his side and cracked open an eye to look at him.

"Sorry," he chuckled. "I've always liked to swim in the sea. Makes me feel clean again. My Dad's friend Mac always said he thought I must have been a mermaid in a previous life."

Pythagoras laughed at the sudden mental image he got of his friend as a mermaid. He lay back on the sand next to Jason, still snorting with laughter. Jason stared at him for a second before joining in – the mathematician's laughter was too infectious for him to ignore. Eventually they both subsided and lay side by side looking up at the cloudless sky and watching the sea birds flying overhead.

"Jason," Pythagoras asked, finally voicing the question that had been troubling him since the previous night, "what did happen last night?"

Jason tensed immediately and Pythagoras kicked himself. This afternoon had been about getting his friend to relax and open up and he felt he had blown it by pushing too hard.

"Nothing really," Jason answered aiming to be as casual as possible. "He caught up with me in a dark alley somewhere on the other side of the city. He had a couple of guys with him and one of them held my arms behind my back. He told me that he wanted to get revenge on Hercules and backhanded me across the face. I bit him. Then I head butted the guy behind me and kicked the other one in the face. There was a line prop holding up some washing so as soon as I was free I swung it at their legs and ran away as fast as I could. That's about all really." He deliberately left out the things he didn't want to think about.

Pythagoras sighed.

"You know it was not really Hercules' fault, don't you."

"I know," Jason agreed. "I'm still pretty angry at him though. He should have told me what was going on."

"Yes," Pythagoras said, "he should have. But he was only doing what he thought was best. You will not stay angry at him for too long will you?"

"Probably not," Jason answered. "It was partly my own fault anyway. I should have been paying more attention to where I was going and what was going on around me."

Pythagoras turned onto his side and regarded his friend seriously.

"It was not your fault either," he insisted.

Jason tried to smile, his face pulling uncomfortably tight as he hid behind his usual lop-sided grin. Pythagoras was a born peace-maker and clearly did not like to see his friends at odds with one another or upset in any way.

"Hmm," he agreed trying to indulge the mathematician. He squinted up at the sky again. "We should probably get going soon," he added changing the subject abruptly. "The sun isn't as warm as it was earlier. It'll be evening soon."

Pythagoras smiled in agreement and the two boys stood and began to make their way back over the dunes, heading for the city and home.

* * *

The sun was still shining brightly when Pythagoras and Jason made their way back through the agora, but the day was clearly drawing to a close – many of the stalls beginning to pack up for the night. They chatted brightly as they walked, discussing inconsequential matters as good friends often do. Suddenly Pythagoras stopped and smacked himself in the head.

"What is it?" Jason asked in concern.

"I nearly forgot the thing I came out for in the first place," Pythagoras muttered, rolling his eyes at his own forgetfulness. "We have run out of cheese and I intended to purchase some earlier."

As Pythagoras made his way purposefully over to Egina's milk stall, looking for cheese, Jason wandered over to look at the stalls on the other side of the square. One in particular caught his eye. It had animals and birds in cages. Jason frowned. He had always hated to see wild things imprisoned even as a child. A movement out of the corner of his eye made him turn in time to see the stall holder about to put what appeared to be a weakly struggling ball of white fluff into a barrel of water. Quick as a flash Jason reached out and grabbed the man's arm.

"What on earth do you think you're doing?" he asked the startled man hotly, voice perhaps a shade louder than was strictly necessary.

Pythagoras looked up at the sound and excused himself from the milk seller quickly, hurrying over to Jason before the young man could get himself into any serious trouble.

The vendor frowned.

"Let go of me," he growled. "What do you think you're doing grabbing me like that?"

"Stopping you from killing a helpless creature," Jason retorted.

"It's only a kitten," the man asserted. "It's just a scrawny, unwanted thing. It's the runt of the litter. Nobody's going to want to buy it so I'm doing it a kindness and putting it out of it's misery."

Jason scowled.

"Who says nobody wants it?" he said pugnaciously.

"You going to buy it then?" the vendor asked.

Jason narrowed his eyes dangerously, even as he reached for the coin pouch that held his wages.

"How much?" he asked softly.

The vendor looked at him as though weighing up what this apparently mad young man could afford.

"One hemiobol," he said firmly.

Without turning a hair, Jason produced the requested amount and placed it firmly on top of the man's stall.

The vendor deposited the kitten into the young man's arms with a visible sneer and turned back to his stall. Jason stood still for a moment staring at the fluffy bundle in his arms, trying to work out what he had just done. Beside him Pythagoras sighed.

"A kitten, Jason?" he asked. "What are you going to do with a kitten?"

"I'll find a home for it," the brunette lad said absently still looking at the white fluffy creature. The kitten appeared to have almost no weight and if it weren't for the fact that he could see it Jason could almost believe it wasn't there. As if it knew it was now safe, the creature stretched and nuzzled its head against the boy's hand, purring loudly. Jason smiled gently.

"I've never had a pet before," he said softly, his voice full of wonder.

Pythagoras smiled at his friends pleasure. He didn't have the heart to tell Jason that keeping the kitten in their house really was impractical given that they often struggled to feed themselves let alone an additional mouth.

"You can explain it to Hercules," he said with some amusement.

Jason rolled his eyes and tucked the kitten inside the front of his tunic, the soft fur tickling him gently. Still smiling to himself he followed the mathematician towards home.

At the top of the stairs leading from the dusty street the two boys paused for a minute, still chatting, before stepping through the door into the house.

Hercules was pacing back and forth in the kitchen like a caged lion, scowling. He looked up at his friends as they entered and his frown deepened.

"Where in the name of the gods have you two been?" he demanded testily.

Pythagoras felt Jason bristle alongside him and muttered a fervent but silent prayer that both his friends would manage to control their tempers.

"At the beach," the young genius answered as brightly and inoffensively as possible. "It was too nice a day to spend cooped up indoors. And now that winter is drawing near there will not be many more chances. I went to meet Jason after work and we decided to take advantage of the day."

Hercules stared at him for a minute.

"Without letting me know where you were?" he asked incredulously.

"Neither of us are children, Hercules," Jason snapped crossly. "We're both big boys. I didn't think we needed a note from our mothers to go out."

Hercules blinked in surprise at the young man's hostile tone. He had hoped that Jason would have calmed down and forgiven him a little by now.

"Jason!" Pythagoras admonished.

"I was worried, that was all," Hercules sounded defeated rather than angry all of a sudden.

Jason instantly felt guilty. No matter how angry he still was at the big wrestler he would never want to make the man worry unnecessarily.

"Sorry," he muttered, embarrassed by his own lack of self-control.

He was saved from any further argument by an insistent mewling coming from somewhere inside his tunic. He had forgotten that the kitten was there. Fishing down inside the top he grabbed hold of the wriggling bundle and put it firmly down on the tabletop. The kitten marched up and down, exploring its new surroundings before sitting down and starting to wash. Hercules stared at it with a horrified expression.

"What," he asked, pointing with one meaty finger, "is that?"

"It's a kitten, Hercules," Jason responded sarcastically. "You know, like a cat only smaller."

Hercules glowered.

"I know _what_ it is," he growled. "What is it doing on my kitchen table?"

"Washing I think," Pythagoras answered brightly, watching the kitten.

The big man gave a long-suffering sigh.

"I know what it's doing," he said, "but _why_ is it on my kitchen table?"

"Oh," said Jason, "Well there was this market vendor. He had all these animals in cages and he was about to drown the kitten and I couldn't stand by and watch it happen," he trailed off.

"So?" Hercules asked blankly.

"So Jason bought it," Pythagoras answered.

"Are you completely insane?" the burly wrestler asked his brunette friend. "We don't always have enough food for us let alone another mouth."

"I couldn't let it die," Jason responded defensively. "Besides it'll stop us getting mice."

"You can't keep letting a foolish sense of sentiment get the better of you," Hercules admonished. "That thing couldn't catch a mouse if it's life depended on it. It's a scrawny little thing. The mouse would probably eat it. Besides it's probably riddled with fleas." He jabbed one finger towards the kitten as he spoke, pulling it back with a startled oath as the small creature swiped its claws at him, ears back and hissing. "It just attacked me!" he yelped.

"Clever kitten," Jason muttered under his breath, picking the creature up and cuddling it to himself.

Pythagoras wandered over and started petting the kitten, smiling brightly as he elicited a purr.

Hercules sighed in defeat, knowing he was beaten.

"Fine," he said. "Keep it then. But you'd better not let it make a mess and you can look after it." He turned away and reached for a flagon of wine.

Pythagoras finally stopped stroking the kitten and turned his mind towards supper, reaching for various ingredients.

"I was surprised to see you here at this time of day," he remarked to Hercules. "You do not usually leave the tavern until later."

Hercules stared at him incredulously.

"You mean you haven't heard?" he asked.

"Heard what?" Jason responded.

Hercules looked between them both.

"Alektryon has been arrested," he said. "For crimes against the people of Atlantis."


	8. Chapter 8

A/N Thank you for the kind reviews. To jmp I'm sorry I can't send a personal message any other way than this but thank you for all the nice things you've said about this story in all the reviews you've given me so far!

I'm _really_ not sure about parts of this chapter so if you feel like giving me a review I would definitely appreciate it!

* * *

Time seemed to stand still. For the next few moments nobody spoke; nobody moved. It was as though everything had stopped at the second Hercules had made his announcement. Then an owl screeched outside the window making them all jump, a bell tolled somewhere in the distance and a goat bleated. The sounds of life returned, time flying back in through the window, reminding them all to move; to breathe. Hercules stared hard at Jason, almost willing the boy to speak, to say how he was feeling. In this he was disappointed. Jason stayed stubbornly silent, still looking down at the kitten he held clutched in his arms like a baby. Pythagoras turned slowly, knife in one hand, onion in the other and looked wide-eyed at Hercules, who still looked at Jason with burning eyes. Then he turned his gaze to his younger friend, cringing a little at the thought of what he might find. Jason's mood had been unpredictable ever since he had returned home last night and Pythagoras was worried how the news of Alektryon's arrest might have affected him. He was surprised. Aside from a little tightening across his shoulders, Jason gave no outward sign of even having heard Hercules. The mathematician frowned, unsure whether this was a good or a bad thing.

For his part Jason didn't know how he should feel – or how he should respond. Part of him was cheering inside at Alektryon's arrest, but the other part – the part that still felt dirty and ashamed – was terrified that it would inevitably mean that someone would find out what had happened; that everyone would _know_. Not that there was anything to find out, he kept reminding himself. Nothing had happened.

"Didn't you hear me?" Hercules demanded. "Alektryon has been arrested!"

"So?" Jason said flatly. He was immensely proud of the fact that he managed to keep his voice completely steady despite the fact that he felt so off balance – he had felt that way all day really; as though the world had suddenly tilted on its axis slightly and he was the only one aware of it. He dropped his head further towards the kitten in his arms, taking comfort from the small creature as it softly nuzzled the side of his face, purring all the time.

Hercules frowned. He couldn't actually see Jason's face any longer. He had half buried it in the kitten's fur and his dark curls had dropped forward to form a curtain, shielding him from view. It was impossible to gauge what the boy's reaction to the news was; impossible to see his emotions.

"What do you mean "so"?" Hercules asked incredulously. "This is important. The news is all over Atlantis! He's got away with things for years now but the guards have finally cottoned on," he paused, frowning. "I'm not sure why they suddenly worked it out now," he admitted, "but at least it means that everything can get back to normal."

Jason shrugged, still looking down.

"Things are normal," he said in the same flat, numb voice.

Hercules barked a short, disbelieving laugh. The tension in the room would have been obvious even to a complete stranger. No, things were in no way normal.

"Put that blasted animal down and talk properly to us," he instructed Jason.

If he was looking for a reaction from the young man he certainly got it. Jason looked up, eyes flashing sudden sparks of fire towards the big wrestler.

"There's nothing to talk about," he hissed. "You kept things from me that I needed to know – lied to my face when I asked you what was wrong – and now you want to talk? Now when there's nothing to talk about? If you really think I want to talk to you right now – that I want anything to do with you – then you've got another thing coming." He pushed his way out past his two friends and disappeared onto the balcony.

Hercules made to follow him. He was stopped by a hand on his arm gently restraining him.

"Don't," Pythagoras urged. "Let him calm down a bit. You will only make things worse by going out there right now."

Hercules looked at the young blonde crossly.

"I'm not putting up with him talking to me like that," he said angrily. "Just because he's having a strop doesn't give him the right to take it out on the rest of us."

Pythagoras resisted the urge to point out that Jason wasn't angry at _him_ at all. That would be unkind. Instead he gave a long suffering sigh and held Hercules' arm a bit more firmly.

"And what good do you think you are going to do going out there and confronting him?" he asked quietly. "Jason needs time."

"What he needs is a kick up the bum," Hercules asserted.

"I think he does have the right to be a bit angry," Pythagoras pointed out tiredly. "You did keep some fairly important things from him – from both of us." He gave his large friend a hard stare.

"I explained all that," Hercules said defensively. "I was only doing what I thought was right."

"I know that... and Jason does too. He knows that what happened was not really your fault. When we were at the beach earlier he said that he did not think he would stay angry at you for too long."

"Well all I can say is that I hope he hurries up and gets over it quickly," Hercules grumbled sitting down at the table and reaching for a cup and the wine flagon.

Pythagoras nodded to himself. That was one friend calmed down, now he just had to deal with the other one. He loved both his friends dearly but sometimes he wished that they weren't quite so difficult to live with. Turning back to the food he was preparing, he continued to chop vegetables in silence, adding each item to the cooking pot in turn, mind busily thinking about how to approach his younger friend. When they had left the beach he had been hopeful that Jason's black mood had been broken – that the young man had relaxed enough for life to begin to get back to normal. It appeared that he had been mistaken.

Once supper was nearly ready, the mathematician moved out towards the balcony, intending to fetch Jason inside to eat. In the doorway he paused. Jason was sitting on the floor, his back to the wall and knees tucked up with the kitten on his lap, talking to the small creature softly. Without intending to eavesdrop, Pythagoras started to listen to what his friend was saying.

Jason felt thoroughly ashamed of himself. He hadn't intended to blow up at Hercules and certainly hadn't meant half of the things he said. It was just that he seemed to be on a really short fuse today – to be getting angry about the smallest things – and his existing ire at the bulky wrestler made him an immediate target. Jason sighed and closed his eyes. He couldn't work out why he was getting so irritated. On his lap the kitten purred and nuzzled his fingers.

"It's alright," Jason said softly tickling the small creature under the chin. "I'm not cross at you, kitten." He paused. "We'll have to think of a name for you," he informed it. "I can't keep calling you "kitten" all the time."

Jason stopped, still stroking the kitten. He looked at the creature seriously.

"I suppose it depends on whether you're a boy or a girl," he said. "I'm not entirely sure how we'd find that out... I might have to ask Pythagoras. He's bound to know. He's the cleverest man I ever met... the kindest too when it comes to it."

He stroked the kitten's head again before carrying on.

"Don't worry about Hercules either. His bark is far worse than his bite. I'm sure he didn't mean it when he called you scrawny... although you are a bit small and skinny. You'll grow though."

Jason paused for a minute before he eased the kitten into a more comfortable position on his lap.

"I was always a scrawny unwanted thing too," he confessed. "At least I'm not scrawny any more."

Listening from the doorway Pythagoras thought his heart would break at Jason's last comment. The implications of his statement to the kitten were clear and the mathematician desperately wished that he could convince his friend of just how much he _was_ wanted without admitting he had been listening in and without embarrassing them both. He quickly stepped forward towards Jason with a friendly smile plastered on his face. As he approached, Jason looked up, eyes narrowing as he tried to work out whether Pythagoras had been listening to his rambling speech to the kitten.

"Supper is ready," Pythagoras announced as brightly as he could and offering Jason a hand up.

The brunette caught the outstretched hand with one of his own and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet. The kitten was deposited on the floor with an audible annoyed squeak. Pythagoras paused and bent down to pick up the little white ball of fluff.

"We need to think of a name for it," Jason said peering at the kitten in Pythagoras hands. "Do you have any idea how to work out if it's a boy or a girl."

Pythagoras smiled and nodded, turning the little creature over until it was held like a baby in his arms and examining the area just below its tail.

"It is a little girl," he announced.

"We still need to think of a name," Jason said as they stepped back into the kitchen.

Hercules looked up, confused.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because we can't keep calling her "kitten" Hercules," Jason answered patiently. He gave the big man an almost shy look. "I'm sorry about before," he said. "I didn't mean what I said."

Hercules looked at the young man speculatively but wisely chose not to say anything about the boy's apology.

"I don't really see why we need a name for the thing," he said staring at the kitten who was walking up and down the kitchen table again where Pythagoras had put her down. "Kitten seems a good enough name to me." His face softened and he smiled as the kitten started to rub against his hand.

"Every creature needs a name," Pythagoras answered, frowning lightly.

"Well what about Medesicaste?" Hercules said running his hand gently over the kitten's fluffy white head.

"You don't think that's a bit grand?" Jason asked.

"Medesicaste is the butcher's daughter," Hercules said. "Ooh she is... lovely. And all the free meat you could want!"

The two boys exchanged a look.

"Definitely _not_ Medesicaste then," Jason murmured.

Pythagoras looked at the kitten thoughtfully.

"Isosceles," he said firmly.

"What in the name of the gods is an isosceles when it's at home?" Hercules demanded.

"It's a triangle with two equal sides," Jason answered. He looked up to see both of his friends staring at him incredulously. "What?" he asked defensively. "I wasn't bad at geometry in school."

Hercules shook his head slowly.

"We can not name a cat after a triangle," he said.

"Why not?" Pythagoras asked, hurt. "Isosceles triangles are particularly beautiful."

Jason smiled at Pythagoras' defence of his beloved triangles.

"Isosceles it is then," he said lifting the kitten down off the table as Pythagoras started to serve supper.

As soon as he took the first spoonful of food Jason tasted blood in his mouth again, just as he had the night before during his encounter with Alektryon. It was all he could do to swallow the mouthful without spitting it out or bringing it back up. He bit his lip and dropped his head, breathing hard through his nose as he tried to regain control of his stomach. He hadn't eaten all day and was starving but the thought of taking another mouthful made his stomach lurch. Without being consciously aware of what he was doing Jason stirred his spoon round and round his bowl slowly. He looked up at the sound of a throat being cleared in a very pointed manner. Hercules was looking at him with an eyebrow raised.

"Are you going to eat it or play with it?" the burly man asked.

Jason smiled sheepishly and choked down a second mouthful of food. Trust Hercules to notice that he wasn't really eating. He paused again to let the second mouthful settle, feeling vaguely giddy and knowing that his burly friend's eyes were almost burning into him, before ploughing on with his meal as best he could.

Supper continued in a very subdued manner. Whenever he thought no-one was looking, Jason slipped some of the food from his bowl to the kitten at his feet. Both of his friends noticed but chose to turn a blind eye. Eventually the young man stopped and looked up at Pythagoras, his bowl still at least a third full.

"I'm sorry, I'm really tired," he said. "I didn't sleep all that well last night. Would you mind awfully if I went to bed?"

Pythagoras smiled gently.

"Of course not," he said taking Jason's bowl.

The young man nodded vaguely and stood up, catching Isosceles up with one hand.

"Sleep well my friend," Hercules added.

Jason smiled and turned towards his bedroom, talking softly to the kitten as he went.

* * *

_It was night time as Jason made his way through the dark streets of Atlantis. At first he wandered aimlessly, feet taking him down random pathways until he came to the Telapius Gate. He wondered briefly if he should have let either Pythagoras or Hercules know that he was going for a walk but it was too late now. He shrugged to himself as he wandered past the inexplicably silent guards. That was weird. The Atlantian guards were usually only too keen to stop random travellers and harass them – although it was never particularly challenging to evade them. _

_Once he was outside the city, Jason realised that he was being drawn onwards. It started as a vague pull at the back of his mind – an urge to travel in a certain direction. By the time he got through the woods and into the mountains he was nearly running, the force drawing him onwards was so great. He was confused as to how he had got through the woods so quickly – usually a journey to the mountains of Galena took the best part of a day – but looking up he realised that far from still being night time the sun was now high in the sky. More time must have passed than he had known. He ought to learn to pay more attention to his surroundings, he berated himself. Really it was getting ridiculous how often he lost track of time and found himself in a very different place from where he started. Mac had always said that he had his head in the clouds most of the time and he did seem to be getting distracted more and more frequently lately._

_The caves were dark and cool after the sunshine outside. Although he had only been here once and had not exactly had the time to explore, Jason walked confidently onwards, his feet seeming to know where they were going even if his brain had not yet caught up. Ahead of him a light was shining and he hurried towards it, suddenly desperate to see what it revealed. It was coming from a large cavern. As Jason entered he saw that the light was coming from a lantern, carried by a cloaked and hooded figure walking purposefully towards an opening on the opposite wall. There was something about the way the figure moved, the set of his head, the roll of his shoulders as he walked, that was heart-achingly familiar – and Jason knew, without knowing how he knew, that the man about to walk through the opening was his father._

"_Hey stop!" he called. "Dad! Wait!"_

_The man never paused and Jason was suddenly once again left alone in the darkness. He started across the cavern. If he could just catch up..._

"_He never wanted you, you know,"Mrs Johnstone's voice whispered in his ear. "No-one ever wanted you."_

_Jason swallowed hard and ignored the voice, knowing that it had to be his imagination – had to be inside his head. He hurried on though the entrance seemed to be getting further and further away no matter how many steps he took._

"_Weak," Mrs Johnstone continued, "weak, pathetic, useless and scruffy. Why would anyone want a child like that?"_

_A laugh rang out from somewhere on the other side of him, echoing around the cavern walls. It was a laugh he had last heard in Circe's cave. Jason froze and stiffened, ready for an attack. _

"_You swore an oath," Circe hissed coming around to stand in front of him, "and you broke it. Need I remind you that your life should have been forfeit," she smiled coldly. "You will discover what the gods do to punish oath-breakers," her eyes flashed with a dangerous light. "You have condemned yourself." The witch sashayed away with a final laugh._

_Jason shuddered and continued on. Finally making it to the opening he found himself in a passageway – a sort of rock corridor. His father was just disappearing around a corner up ahead. It didn't seem to matter how fast Jason ran he could never quite catch up with the man, turning corner after corner just to see his father disappearing around another bend. Running now, he raced after the man, catching himself on the walls, skin scraping and tearing as he ricocheted off the rough rock. A trip sent him sprawling and he lay still for a moment, lungs burning as he gasped for breath, before pushing himself back to his feet._

"_It was easy to make you scream in the end wasn't it?" a soft, sibilant voice mused. "You might not have told me what I wanted to know but I still made you scream." Galanus stepped from behind Jason, barging the young man's shoulder, his brightly coloured robe swirling around him. "I could make you scream again," he said. "I know your weakness now. I know you are a coward at heart."_

"_Shut up," Jason answered, setting off at a run again. He really didn't have time for this – was consumed by the need to catch up with his father._

_He rounded another corner and came close to running full tilt into Alektryon. The man reached out one clammy slim-fingered hand and caressed the side of Jason's face._

"_So young," he lisped. "So innocent."_

"_Not that innocent," Jason responded kneeing him in the groin and pushing past him as he fell._

_Finally he exited the passageway into another large cavern. This one seemed to be bisected by a fast running river. A boat sat moored to the bank, bobbing slightly in the current. Jason's father stood at the water's edge, seemingly lost in thought._

_Jason started towards him when a firm push in the centre of his back sent him stumbling, trying to keep his footing._

"_Coward," Galanus said._

"_I'm not," Jason responded._

"_So why haven't you told your friends the truth?" Circe asked sharply. "You're afraid, Jason. You're scared. You know they'll leave you if you tell them the truth. If you let them see who you really are."_

"_After all who could ever really care for a nasty, dirty creature like you?" Mrs Johnstone added._

"_You're only good for one thing," Alektryon said, "and you couldn't even do that right."_

"_It's just as well that your parents can't see you," Mrs Johnstone stated. "A coward and a failure. You would have been such a disappointment to them."_

_Jason stumbled forwards towards the figure on the bank. Tears pricked the backs of his eyes as he tried to escape the demons in his head and reach out to his father._

"_Dad," he implored. "Please don't go. I need you."_

_The hooded figure gave no sign of even having heard him and stepped lightly into the boat, starting to untie the mooring rope._

"_Dad," Jason was growing more desperate by the minute. "Please stay. Please."_

_He watched helplessly as the boat drifted out into the centre of the river, pulled along by the current._

"_He won't stay," a new voice said. "He never stays. No-one ever does. You know that."_

_Jason stiffened at the sound. He knew this voice. Slowly, with growing fear, he turned around to face a person he hadn't seen in nearly a decade._

"_Hello Jason," the figure said._

Jason awoke in a cold sweat, gasping for breath and sitting bolt upright in bed. It was still pitch black outside. An annoyed hiss from the floor told Jason that he'd probably pushed Isosceles off the bed when he woke up and that the kitten did not appreciate being moved from her nice warm nest cuddled into his side. He felt the irrational urge to apologise to the small creature even as he swung his legs out of bed.

Wandering across to the kitchen table, Jason picked up a jug of water and poured himself a cup, drinking deeply and greedily in an attempt to calm his nerves. He put the cup down and sighed, running one hand through his sweat dampened hair. The dream was an old one – had plagued him on and off for years – although the setting was different and the additions of Circe, Alektryon and Galanus were new, replacing the bullies of his childhood presumably because they were more immediate to him now. Not that he had been particularly badly bullied in school – no more so than any child. Actually the school bullies had barely seemed to notice he was there – one of the advantages he had found of allowing himself to fade into the background at a young age. Jason paused and poured himself some more water. His thoughts were skittering all over the place tonight and he tried desperately to pull them into order.

Making his way over to the balcony, cup of water still in hand, he leaned over the railing and looked down at the dark street below with unseeing eyes. The fact that his mind could still conjure up the last figure from his dream even after all these years bothered him. Those were memories that were better left undisturbed; better left buried. Jason had spent the best part of the last ten years studiously ignoring those particular memories and the feelings they conjured up, shoving them back down whenever they threatened to bubble up to the surface, and the idea that they could come back to haunt him so easily disturbed him. He sighed again.

"You could not sleep either?"

Jason was startled back to the present by Pythagoras' softly spoken question. He spun around to see the mathematician standing in the doorway of the balcony, shivering slightly in the cold night air, with his own cup of water in hand.

"Nah," he murmured lightly. "I told you insomnia and I are old friends."

Pythagoras came and joined him at the railing.

"It is still some hours until dawn I am afraid," he observed. "We should both attempt to get a little more sleep... although I confess I am not feeling sleepy."

Jason smiled at him, turned and slid down the wall until he was sitting on the floor, his legs bent at the knees. Pythagoras mirrored the action and they sat, facing one another, feet almost touching, as they had done on so many evenings – albeit not as late in the night as this. The enclosed side of the balcony protected them both from the night breeze that blew lightly through the house. Although the days were still warm at present the nights were definitely drawing in and becoming much colder.

The two boys sat for some time in companionable silence, listening to the night noises of the city. A soft tickling at Pythagoras' hand made the young man look down and he smiled as he realised that the kitten Jason had brought home had made its way across to them and was trying to get attention. It appeared that Isosceles was most insistent and very single minded when it came to getting something she wanted. The mathematician started to stroke down the full length of the kitten's body, smile widening as Isosceles arched her back up into his hand. He looked up to see his brunette friend watching him with a wry smile, amusement dancing in his hazel eyes.

"I fear Hercules thinks we are both quite mad for wanting to keep a kitten," Pythagoras said.

"He'll get used to her," Jason answered.

"As long as he does not try to use her for gambling everything will be alright."

Jason snorted at the mental image of Hercules trying to enter the kitten into a beetle race – trying to pass her off as a beetle in spite of the objections of the other competitors. He dropped his head back to rest against the wall.

"When I was a child there was this lady that lived on the other side of town who kept dozens of cats. Well it seemed like there were dozens anyway," Jason said softly. "All the local children were afraid of her. Called her the crazy cat woman. We used to think she was a witch I guess. We used to dare each other to run up her path and knock on her front door. Then you had to stay there for as long as you dared before she could answer and put a curse on you. She wasn't really a witch of course. Just a lady who liked cats. God we must have tormented her."

Pythagoras smiled gently.

"We had a woman much the same in our village," he admitted. "Although she was in fact a witch."

Jason chuckled quietly. It felt good to be sitting here with Pythagoras and the kitten exchanging memories – albeit ones that he had censored and decided could be told without risking any secrets coming to light.

The two boys continued to banter back and forth lightly for some time, with Isosceles wandering back and forth between them, purring. Presently Jason found his eyes growing heavy.

"We should probably try to get some more sleep," he said.

Pythagoras nodded and yawned. Moving quietly they both stood and made their way back to their respective bedrooms, bidding each other a soft "goodnight" and returning to their beds and peaceful slumber.


	9. Chapter 9

A/N Thank you to Vellymymare, The Cruelest Sea and Polly for your reviews of the last chapter. I'm now going to shamelessly ask for more reviews for this one - it's how I know that it's still worth me continuing to write!

* * *

Pythagoras woke sometime before dawn to the soft sounds of someone pottering around the house. It was probably Jason, the mathematician realised, knowing that Hercules was never normally awake at this time. Smiling, he got out of bed and made his way into the kitchen, tunic still askew and hair sticking up on end. He had been quite correct, he was pleased to note. Jason was quietly moving around the room, tidying away the dishes left out from supper and talking softly to the kitten, which he had lifted onto the table, as he fixed it a plate of breakfast. The brunette lad was smiling softly to himself as he worked, hand occasionally straying to stroke Isosceles. The kitten's breakfast seemed to consist of some salted sardines of unknown age and provenance (dredged up from somewhere in the back of the cupboard Pythagoras surmised) and some crumbled cheese. Despite the somewhat unusual nature of the meal, Isosceles seemed to be lapping it up. Pythagoras made a mental note to go shopping later and procure some meat or fish scraps to feed the animal properly. Jason, on the other hand, had helped himself to an apple and was nibbling at the edge thoughtfully as he watched the kitten eat her breakfast.

"We'll have to get her some proper food," he said suddenly, startling Pythagoras who had been unaware that Jason had even realised he was there.

The young genius smiled.

"Yes," he answered. "I had already decided to visit the agora this afternoon, if you would care to join me once you have finished work."

"Fair enough," Jason responded. "If you drop by the docks we can go together."

A sudden noise from behind them made both boys turn. Hercules stood in the doorway of his room looking at them both with sleepy confusion.

"What in the name of the gods are you both doing up at this ungodly hour?" he asked.

"Some of us have work to go to in case you'd forgotten," Jason responded.

Hercules frowned.

"You're surely not going in today?"

"Why not?" Jason looked genuinely confused. "I can't just take the day off when I feel like it."

"Because it's Alektryon's trial today," the bulky wrestler answered.

Pythagoras was looking directly at Jason. There could be no mistake that the moment Hercules spoke the young man's face shut down completely – went blank and utterly devoid of any emotion or expression.

"What difference does that make?" Jason said in the same hatefully numb tone he had used the night before.

"None whatsoever," Pythagoras stated bracingly, shooting Hercules a hard look to tell him to leave the subject alone. It was clear to the mathematician that no good would come from Hercules pressing the issue – he was only likely to cause another argument.

Hercules frowned deeply. He really couldn't understand why Jason wasn't more interested in what was going to happen to Alektryon. Ever since they had first met him Jason had been a little strange – coming out with words or phrases that made no sense to his two friends, failing to understand the most basic of their customs, and yet sometimes appearing to know what was going to happen before it actually did (just how _had_ he known not to look at Medusa after she had been cursed? And come to that how had he known she'd been cursed in the first place?) – but he had always immersed himself in whatever was going on around him. Now it was almost as if he just didn't care.

Jason felt nothing. Every time someone mentioned Alektryon's name it was as though something inside him broke – as though a creeping numbness overcame him leaving him cold. He didn't even seem to be able to summon up the energy to feel angry this morning and the hollow, empty feeling it had left in its wake threatened to overwhelm him – to drown him. He tried to summon up the energy to care about what was going to happen at Alektryon's trial, especially since it seemed to mean so much to Hercules.

"You'll be going then?" he found himself asking the big wrestler, but with little real interest in the answer.

"Of course," Hercules sounded incredulous that Jason had even bothered to ask – had not known the answer beforehand. "I want to see him get what he deserves."

"What will happen to him?" the young man enquired dully, even as he started to pick up his lunch bundle.

"It all depends on what he is charged with," Pythagoras answered thoughtfully. "If he is found guilty of course."

Hercules stared at him in disbelief.

"Of course he'll be found guilty," he exploded. "He _is_ guilty!"

"We do not yet know what he has been charged with, Hercules," Pythagoras pointed out patiently. "Crimes against the people of Atlantis could mean many things and there is no guarantee that he is actually guilty of what he is being accused of." He turned back to address Jason. "If he is found guilty of the theft of property from one or more citizens of Atlantis then he will be branded with the appropriate mark and have a hand removed. If it is for committing a violent act then he will be branded and given into slavery for a set number of years depending on the nature and severity of his crime. After the term of slavery is finished he will be exiled. If it is for sacrilege or impiety then it is regarded as being akin to treason and there would be only one punishment. In theory he _could_ beg to be sent into exile instead but in practice that would not happen. If Alektryon is found guilty of impiety or sacrilege he will be executed."

Jason closed his eyes briefly and sighed. Although the part of him that could still feel wanted to see Alektryon punished, he did not think he would ever be able to reconcile himself to the notion of capital punishment – would never be completely comfortable with the idea of someone being killed as a punishment.

"I see," he said blankly.

"I will accompany Hercules to the trial," Pythagoras said quietly. "If you wish I will let you know what happens."

Jason shrugged slowly.

"If you want," he answered as he made his way out of the door and headed for work.

* * *

The throne room was packed as the populous of Atlantis awaited the trial and judgement of the merchant Alektryon. He was well known in the city – although not necessarily well liked. There had been rumours for years of course, but as far as most were concerned that was all they were – rumours conjured up by jealous rivals. Some had known the truth but, given how powerful Alektryon's friends were, knew better than to voice it out loud. Rumours flew around the room. No-one knew why the man had been arrested now – why the authorities had chosen to act after all this time – and there was much speculation. The sun rose high and the room became stuffy as the crush of bodies raised the temperature beyond bearable in the still air.

Standing to one side near the front of the room, Hercules used his considerable bulk to shield the slender young man at his side from the general pushing of the crowd. He himself barely registered the elbow jabs to the side and feet that trampled on his own as everyone tried to get a better view of the proceedings. Not that there was anything to see at the moment. The crowd had been there for hours already, awaiting the arrival of the King and the start of the trial. Minos did not seem to be in any hurry to get things under way – it appeared that the King had a tendency towards theatricality and was waiting until the mood of the crowd was almost at fever pitch before he made an appearance. Hercules did not care about any of that. He was simply here to make sure for himself that justice was going to be done and that Alektryon could never threaten harm to either of his young friends again. He and Pythagoras had arrived early – far too early if the truth be told – but they had wanted to ensure that they would be able to both see and hear proceedings and this trial was likely to be a popular one – the citizenry of Atlantis had always enjoyed the entertainment of a good trial and one where the defendant was so well known gave added excitement.

The sun rose even higher and Hercules began to sweat, perspiration running uncomfortably down his back in little rivulets. He risked a glance at the young man by his side. Pythagoras seemed almost to wilt in the heat, face pale and eyes huge with his blonde curls sticking up in damp clumps as he wrapped his arms around himself protectively. Hercules frowned and pushed a little at the crowd alongside him, making extra space for the young mathematician and relieving some of the physical pressure on the young man. Pythagoras touched his arm gently and smiled gratefully at his burly friend as Hercules turned to look at him again. Hercules nodded in return. No words were necessary between the two – they knew each other too well.

A brazen discordant fanfare from the side doorway made both friends straighten and crane their necks in an attempt to see better. It appeared that everyone in the crowd did exactly the same thing and they rippled forwards in an undulating wave, before settling back as it became apparent that there was no better view to be found. The fanfare sounded for a second time. The horns were decidedly tuneless even to Hercules' tone deaf ears and he wondered, briefly, if anyone in the royal household had ever thought that their entrances could be made more impressive if they insisted on the musicians tuning their instruments in advance.

The room fell silent as the King and Queen stepped through the doorway, their pace measured and sedate and their bearing regal. A third figure slipped through the door after them and positioned herself to the side of the raised dais half hidden by one of the pillars. The Princess Ariadne had come to see Atlantian justice at work once again. Moving with the practiced formality that the proceedings demanded, King Minos guided his Queen to her throne, gently sitting her down before taking his own accustomed place at the centre of the dais. A whispered murmur went through the crowd. This was the first time that Minos had been seen in public since his miraculous recovery from his mystery illness and many of the rumours that had been flying around the city for weeks were being proved or disproved in this moment. The general consensus of opinion amongst the crowd was that the King was looking better than expected. With a boldly formal gesture, Minos called silently for he prisoner to be brought in.

As Alektryon was brought through a doorway at the back of the throne room the crowd nearest to him reacted with a muted gasp. The people started to murmur – a sound that grew louder the closer to the dais Alektryon got. Both Pythagoras and Hercules strained to see over the throng, trying to get a glimpse of the man and see what all the whispering as about. They were thwarted by the sheer number of people in the room and turned back towards the thrones, forced to wait until the man was brought forwards.

Alektryon looked awful. His outer robe was filthy and tattered and the tunic and trousers beneath were clearly in no better condition. The man had the remnants of dried blood clinging in the grooves that surrounded his nose and mouth and he was hunched over, blatantly in agony, although the only wound that was visible was to his hand and was partially covered by a grimy bandage. Pythagoras wondered briefly if that was where Jason had bitten him. Alektryon limped towards the front of the room, apparently unaware of his surroundings. It was his condition that had made the crowd gasp. The Atlantian guards were not known for their brutality towards their prisoners – at least before the trial – so everyone was wondering what had happened to cause the merchant to be in such obvious pain. There was a certain grim satisfaction to seeing Alektryon in this condition, Hercules realised. It might not be very nice of him to think it but he couldn't help but gloat a little at the man's downfall. Alektryon shuffled forward, bound at the wrists by irons, a guard holding the end of the chain securely. A second guard forced him to his knees in front of the dais. King Minos looked down at Alektryon contemptuously.

"Speak truthfully or face a death curse upon you," the words were part of a time honoured ritual. Pythagoras had heard them uttered by the King at the start of every trial he had ever attended – even his own after Jason had punched Heptarian in the street.

"You are the merchant Alektryon," the Minos continued icily.

"I am My Lord," Alektryon responded in his peculiar high pitched lisp.

The King stood and walked slowly towards the prisoner, his disgust at the man evident in his every gesture.

"You have been brought before me accused of crimes against the people of Atlantis. You have foully attempted to force yourself and your attentions upon young men against their wills. I am told that many of them were little more than children. You have escaped punishment for your crimes for many years. The boys you have abused in this manner have been unable to speak out against you; have been silenced by the very nature of what you have done to them. The night before last you attempted to force yourself on another young man, although I am told that, praise the gods, he escaped your clutches." Minos paused and looked around the room. For a split second his gaze seemed to linger on Pythagoras and Hercules but moved on before anyone could register it.

Pythagoras swallowed hard and exchanged a look with Hercules. Minos knew. He knew what Alektryon had tried to do to Jason and he was clearly disgusted by it.

Minos paced around the shackled Alektryon like a caged lion.

"You have violated our sacred laws. Poseidon's sacred laws. You have sought to corrupt the children of Atlantis. To have dishonoured the gods through your actions. As such you stand accused of impiety. Of sacrilege. Your actions cannot go unpunished. Do you have _anything_ to say in your own defence?"

There was a pause. A long pause. It seemed as though everyone in the gathered crowd held their breath as they awaited Alektryon's response. Surely he must deny the allegations against him. Surely he must attempt to defend himself.

"I have no defence My Lord," Alektryon answered almost inaudibly. Such was the silence in the room that his almost whispered words were heard quite clearly by every person present. He glanced fearfully at the Queen. Pasiphae sat on her throne, cold and impassive as ever, although inside she was gloating. The creature had not been hard to break, not hard at all. She had ensured that, even without the threat of a death curse hanging over his head, every word that Alektryon spoke now would be the whole truth. Of course she had also caused him whole worlds of pain while doing it and the mother in her rejoiced in the damage that she had managed to do to the _thing_ (she could not think of him as a man) who had dared to hurt her child – had dared to attempt to do such an unspeakable thing to Jason. She had also ensured that she had left no traces of her actions on Alektryon's skin. There was no proof that she had ever been near him.

"I have sought to satisfy my own base desires." Alektryon continued tonelessly. "I have committed crimes against the people of Atlantis. Have attempted to corrupt the young men of the city with my actions. There can be no defence for what I have done and I only ask for your Majesty's mercy in your judgement."

A stunned gasp went around the room, as though every person present drew a sharp breath at the same time. Alektryon had condemned himself with his words.

"Then you leave me no choice," Minos stated coldly. "You will be put to death. Five days hence, when the moon is full, you will be taken to the Sawing Tree. Your property is forfeit and belongs to the city." He turned and remounted the dais, scooping up some water from a bowl and sprinkling it before him with his back to the crowd as he began the ritual prayers to Poseidon that marked the end of the trial.

Alektryon bowed his head. He had expected that his confession would result in his execution but he had hoped that the King would be merciful and grant him a quick death. It seemed that this was not to be. He was pulled to his feet roughly by a guard and dragged back out the way he had come in to await his execution.

As soon as the condemned man had been dragged away the Queen stood to join her husband and together they swept from the room followed by the members of the court who had attended the proceedings. The crowd stood in silence for a moment before erupting in a cacophony of murmured comments. They pushed and shoved against one another as each person attempted to leave as quickly as they could, all keen to pass on the latest gossip to their friends and neighbours.

Pythagoras stood in stunned silence. The Sawing Tree was nearly as gruesome as the Brazen Bull – but without being such a marvel of engineering. It was rarely used even for the most vile of crimes and the fact that the King had invoked its use now spoke volumes for his level of anger and disgust. A touch on his arm made the young mathematician turn. He found himself being led by a grim faced Hercules through the milling crowd and back out into the sunshine of a day that suddenly seemed a lot colder.

* * *

The morning had been a difficult one for Jason. On edge, he found himself jumping at every little sound, flinching as people brushed past him. Being touched was the last thing he wanted at the moment yet the world seemed to be conspiring against him more than usual and so he found himself cringing a lot more often than he would have liked as the other workers bumped his shoulder or brushed against his hip or bare arm as they carried out their work. He bit his lip, sternly telling himself to pull himself together. His mind kept straying to the proceedings in the Palace no matter how hard he tried to forget what might be going on. He had been honest when he had said that he did not want to go and see Alektryon's trial and yet he couldn't seem to stop thinking about it. Couldn't stop worrying that somehow the truth would come out and that everyone would _know_ what had so very nearly happened.

"Watch out!" The shouted call was accompanied by a hand grasping Jason's arm and pulling him sharply to one side, making him stumble at the sudden movement. Unconsciously he pulled away from the touch, even as a large crate carried on the shoulder of one of the dockers swung around where he had just been standing. If he hadn't been pulled out of the way there was no doubt that it would have hit him, and yet Jason still felt an irrational surge of anger towards the person who had grabbed him. He regained his balance and looked at his helper crossly.

Perdikkas looked back at him coolly. He wasn't entirely sure where Jason's mind had been all morning but it clearly wasn't on the job. The harbour master was annoyed. If he hadn't noticed the boy about to be hit by the crate and if he hadn't been close enough to react, Jason could have been badly injured because of his own inattention. Perdikkas frowned.

"Wherever your head is this morning, you need to get it back here and on the job," he admonished firmly. "You've had your head in the clouds all morning and I don't have the time to keep an eye on you just because you can't seem to pay attention to what's going on around you."

Jason bristled even more.

"Look," he started, ready to blow at his boss.

"Don't know what's been wrong with you the last two days," Perdikkas continued, completely ignoring Jason's attempt to speak. "Reckon you don't want to tell me neither. Well I can respect that. Might think you'd be better off just coming out with it but whatever it is is your business. Got no need for a worker who can't keep his mind on the job though. Now I don't want to lose you because you've proved you're a good worker so whatever's going on get it sorted." He gave the lad one last glare and stalked away. As he did so he sighed. Perhaps he had been too hard on the boy. Silently he promised himself that he would keep a closer eye on his newest worker – see if he couldn't work out what was bothering him – and see if there was any way he could help.

Jason stared off after Perdikkas, grumbling under his breath. Deep down he knew that the man was right and that the docks were too dangerous for him not to be paying attention, but it still galled him to be told off like an errant child. Still grumbling quietly he returned to his work.

It was almost the end of the shift when the first rumours of what had happened at the trial arrived at the docks. Jason was busily unloading a small merchantman, trying hard to avoid the other workers while attempting to concentrate on what he was doing when he overheard a conversation between two of the other workers. Uskelegon tended to have a loose tongue, a loud mouth and an opinion on every subject (as well as being the port Lothario) and he was spouting forth to one of the other dockers, a small rat-faced man called Numa who was not necessarily very bright and easily led.

"All I'm saying is that I don't believe that we're getting the whole story," Uskelegon said loudly.

"What do yer mean?" Numa asked.

"Well the way I see it it's like this," Uskelegon answered. "I don't reckon any man would try to do that to some random boy without having been given some sort of encouragement first. You know what some boys are like. Lead a guy on and then say no... it's how they get their kicks."

" I don't know," Numa answered almost thoughtfully. "There's no smoke without fire and I heard that it ain't the first time this Alektryon's done summat like this."

Jason's blood ran cold.

"Those are just rumours though, alright," Uskelegon said forcefully. "I mean he's a merchant and he ain't gonna risk his reputation for some peasant boy. I reckon that this lad probably led him on – teased him like – and it went a bit far and the lad went and told the guards... probably scared that he'd get into trouble at home or something... though everyone knows there ain't nothing wrong with that sort of thing."

"But they said it had happened before."

"Couldn't produce no witnesses though could they?" Uskelegon was triumphant, sure he had just made the winning point. "Even this boy that the merchant's supposed to have attacked wasn't there. Didn't dare show his face I reckon. You mark my words, we ain't been told the whole story."

"I thought the merchant confessed though," Numa remarked.

"Ain't you never heard of torture?" Uskelegon asked incredulously. "He'd have said anything that they wanted him to – and now he's been condemned to death on hearsay. It's a crying shame I tell you." He shook his head gravely.

Jason pulled back away from the men, dodging out of sight behind a stack of crates, suddenly unable to breathe. He closed his eyes as panic took him. _Everyone knew_. He bit his lip hard until he could taste blood in his mouth, fists clenched at his sides with the nails digging in to his palms, and tried to remember how to breathe as his shoulders heaved with the effort. He felt dizzy and sick. He thought about the conversation he had just heard. Were they right? Had he somehow unwittingly led Alektryon on? Made the man believe that it was something he wanted? Jason didn't think so and Alektryon's own words – the words that kept coming back to him whenever he stopped to think – implied that the situation had been purely about getting revenge on Hercules. And yet the seed of doubt had now been planted. Jason bent forward, hands on his knees and heaved up what food was in his stomach.

Perdikkas watched his workers with growing horror. He had caught most of the conversation between Uskelegon and Numa and had seen Jason's reaction out of the corner of his eye. Suddenly he was absolutely certain that he knew what was troubling the boy. The thought disgusted and horrified him. Unsure how to act he stepped behind the stack of crates to find Jason. As he rounded the stack, the harbour master saw the young man. Jason was hunched over, dry heaving – although from the smell Perdikkas was fairly sure that he'd already emptied his stomach. He came up beside the lad, wanting to help and to provide comfort but not quite sure how to proceed. Finally aware of his presence, Jason looked up, wiping his mouth.

"Sorry," he muttered, clearly embarrassed. "I think I ate something that didn't agree with me. I'll get back to work."

Perdikkas frowned lightly and sighed.

"We're near enough to the end of the shift that I reckon you can get off home if you're not feeling well," he said producing the lad's wages and presenting them to him. He paused as Jason managed to pull himself together and started to turn away. "You can talk to me," he continued hesitantly. "Whatever happened I will try to help."

Jason nodded, unable to trust his own voice. He turned and raced off, suddenly desperate to get as far away from the docks – as far away from other people – as possible. Not really seeing what was around him, he ran at full speed past the startled Pythagoras who had been waiting patiently at the edge of the harbour wall for Jason to finish work, and who now stared after him with his mouth hanging open, not knowing what had happened to his friend.

* * *

Ariadne walked through the corridors of the Palace, deep in thought as her mind wandered back to the trial she had witnessed this morning. She had been surprised to see Pythagoras and Hercules there – neither of them was known for attending trials often – and had been even more surprised when she realised Jason was not with them. It was rare to see his friends without him these days – they had become an inseparable trio – and she wondered what could have happened to prevent him from attending the trial with the other two. Perhaps her father had not told her everything. Perhaps in warning Jason away from Ariadne he had threatened the young man. Perhaps he was unwell – although he had seemed well enough when she had seen him at Proerosia the other day. The Princess fretted silently over the possible reasons that might have caused Jason to be absent today.

Pulling herself together, she forced her mind back to the subject of the trial. Her quick ears had overheard the end of a conversation between her father and Pasiphae the day before with regards to the prisoner now languishing in the cells below her feet. She had heard the words "attack" and "Minotaur" mentioned and her mind had immediately flown to Jason – not that it ever left him for all that long if she were completely honest with herself. She had also worked out that it was Pasiphae who had been responsible for the arrest of the man, Alektryon. That had immediately put the Princess on her guard. She knew from bitter experience that the Queen was only too good at manipulating situations and arranging for the trials and executions of innocents to further her own schemes. Ariadne had attended the trial this morning to try to work out for herself what was going on. Even after the proceedings she was still not sure. Alektryon's "confession" had seemed genuine but then again so had the "confessions" of the men accused of plotting with her brother Therus to kill her father. That the information which had led to the arrest of this merchant had come from Pasiphae made Ariadne immediately mistrust the validity of Alektryon's confession. She frowned to herself. She _would_ get to the bottom of the matter, and if it proved that this merchant was as she suspected just a pawn in one of her step-mother's games she would not hesitate to help him free himself. Decision made, Ariadne smiled. It was time to start work and to finally prove to her father – to the whole of Atlantis – just what sort of woman Queen Pasiphae actually was.


	10. Chapter 10

A/N Two chapters in two days - what is the world coming to? I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint.

Thank you once again for the reviews. I'm now going to be completely shameless in begging for more :-)

* * *

Jason raced blindly through the crowded streets, not really looking where he was going, simply needing to get away. He wasn't really sure what he was running from – himself perhaps; his own memories and demons. In the wake of the conversation he had just overheard the horrors of last night's dream assaulted him again. On through the agora he ran, barging into people and sending items of produce flying in his wake, yet not even pausing to apologise as he normally would. Somewhere in the back of his mind he registered the affronted and annoyed cries of the merchants he ricocheted off or whose wares he sent tumbling but all his conscious mind could think of was the need to put as much distance between himself and other people as he could.

Pythagoras had watched Jason tear past him with surprise. Weren't they supposed to be going to get some food for Isosceles together this afternoon? His surprise instantly turned to worry. Jason would never normally break an arrangement like that without having a very good reason. He turned and ran after his friend, elbows flailing. By the time he had got to the agora, Pythagoras slowed. There was no way he would catch up with Jason like this. At the best of times his brunette friend was faster than he was and if the trail of destruction that Jason had left behind him in the marketplace was anything to go by then he was probably moving at top speed, not even pausing to try to apologise for any of the things he had knocked over. If his feet weren't going to be fast enough to catch the dark haired young man, however, his brain most definitely was. Pythagoras stopped and looked about him, thinking hard. Where would Jason have gone? The direction he had run in was evident from the number of knocked over items and grumbling stall-holders. Pythagoras was almost impressed by the sheer amount of chaos his friend could cause in such a short space of time without even trying. Smiling ruefully to himself, the mathematician started moving again, picking up his pace to a steady trot, and picking his way past aggrieved merchants as he went. It would probably be best if he kept Jason away from this part of the market for the next few days, he noted – at least until the stall-holders had had the chance to calm down a bit. Sometimes it seemed to Pythagoras that all he ever did was apologise for his friends or try to keep them out of trouble. He sighed. That was unfair and he knew it. Hercules' scrapes normally resulted from his drinking, his gambling or his love life and could therefore usually be classed as being his own fault. Jason, on the other hand, seemed to attract trouble without even trying – although whatever difficulties he got his friends into, he equally tended to be the one to get them out of it. Pythagoras himself was not actually immune to getting into scrapes himself, although he invariably felt immensely guilty for any trouble he caused.

Sighing again at his own wandering thoughts, the mathematician dragged his mind back to the immediate task of finding Jason. There were really only a few places the young man was likely to go if he was upset. Home was one of them – the one that Pythagoras would have put money on under normal circumstances – although with the way things had been going lately the young genius immediately discounted the idea that Jason might have gone there. Things had been far too tense at home over the last couple of days for Jason to voluntarily go there when he was clearly upset. The other possibilities were the Temple (although just why he seemed to find comfort there was anybody's guess given his lack of knowledge of the gods) or, given how much he had seemed to enjoy being there yesterday, the beach. Pythagoras looked at the direction his friend had obviously gone in. The Temple it was then.

Crossing the square Pythagoras saw his friend sitting on the steps of the Temple, much as he had the first day Jason had arrived in Atlantis and had been to visit the Oracle at the blonde's urging. The difference was that Jason's face was buried in his folded arms, resting on his knees, rather than looking out across the city. Pythagoras felt his heart clench. His friend looked so lost – so small – right then that it was almost physically painful to look at him. The mathematician hurried up the steps and sat down next to Jason, their shoulders almost touching. The brunette lad did not raise his head and gave no outward sign that he knew his friend was there. Pythagoras sat quietly for a few minutes, unsure of what to say; unsure what was troubling his friend.

"I'm sorry. We were supposed to go and get food for the cat weren't we?" Jason said suddenly, without looking up.

Pythagoras smiled softly and looked out across the square.

"Yes," he admitted, "but it does not really matter. I will go later." He turned and looked at Jason seriously. "What troubles you my friend?" he asked gently.

Jason snorted, but did, finally, raise his head and looked straight out over the city.

"It's nothing," he said. "I just heard something earlier and it triggered some bad memories."

"What memories?" Pythagoras pressed in his gentle but firm way.

"They're not important," Jason responded.

"They are if they are troubling you," the blonde countered.

Jason sighed.

"Have you ever had memories that you'd rather not have? That you'd do anything to forget?" he asked.

Pythagoras didn't answer, just raised an eyebrow. Jason blushed.

"Of course you have," he berated himself. "Your father... I'm sorry... I didn't think." He trailed off into silence, eyes far away.

Pythagoras let him sit in silence for a moment before placing his hand reassuringly on Jason's shoulder. He was startled and a little upset when his brunette friend flinched at his touch, pulling away slightly.

Jason bit his lip and looked at the blonde.

"Sorry," he muttered. "I'm not sure why I did that. I can't seem to help myself. I've been jumping when anyone touched me all day."

"And yesterday too," Pythagoras stated.

"Yeah. Maybe," Jason said, looking at the ground.

Pythagoras paused, trying to choose his next words carefully.

"Jason," he started, "is there anything you haven't told me?"

He nearly sighed as he felt his friend stiffen alongside him. He had been right then – there was definitely something that Jason was hiding.

"What do you mean?" Jason asked defensively. His mind was racing. There were so many things that he had kept from his two friends from the first moment he had arrived in Atlantis and he struggled to work out which one Pythagoras could possibly be talking about.

"Something happened to you the other night and I am concerned that it might have been more than you have told me," Pythagoras said sombrely.

Jason felt his breath quickening as the memories of the other night assaulted him again.

"I told you what happened," he snapped, irrationally angry at Pythagoras for bringing the subject up again when in his mind it was better left buried; better forgotten. "Why can't you just leave it alone?" As quickly as his anger had come it drained away, leaving him ashamed of having snapped at the gentle young man at his side. Pythagoras only wanted to help, he reminded himself.

Pythagoras was hurt by his friend's brief outburst although he did his best to hide it. Clearly Jason was not willing to talk about what had happened, although the mathematician couldn't help but feel it would be better for him if he could talk things out.

"Sorry," Jason muttered. "Nothing really happened the other night. He tried it on and I got away before he could do anything. I just _really_ want to forget about it now alright?" He looked pleadingly at his friend.

Pythagoras was far from satisfied but decided to let the matter drop rather than cause an argument in the street.

"Did you want to know about the trial today?" he asked softly.

Jason sighed.

"I think I've heard about some of it," he admitted. "There were rumours flying around the docks. He's been sentenced to death hasn't he?"

"Yes," Pythagoras nodded. "Alektryon was found guilty of impiety and sacrilege. He will be executed in five days time."

"I wish..." Jason began, biting his lip. "I mean... I don't understand how you can all be so happy with the thought of someone being killed."

Pythagoras frowned deeply.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "Execution is a good deterrent to stop others from committing crimes as well as punishing the guilty."

"Where I come from we got rid of capital punishment years ago," Jason admitted. "Long before I was growing up. I don't think I'll ever be comfortable with the idea of someone being executed, no matter what they have done."

Pythagoras instantly decided not to tell Jason about the way in which Alektryon was due to be executed – his friend seemed to be having enough problems with accepting the concept of capital punishment and certainly did not need to know the gruesome details – it would only serve to upset him further.

"Well," he said forcing a smile, "if we are to obtain any food for your kitten we should probably return to the agora now... although perhaps not to the area nearest to the docks. I am afraid that you might have upset a few of the traders by knocking over their stalls on your way here."

Jason winced.

"Sorry," he apologised again.

Pythagoras grinned openly at his friend's discomfort.

"I am sure the fruit sellers will forgive you eventually," he assured the brunette lad.

Jason winced again – what was it about him and fruit stands? There were days when he actually thought he couldn't even look at one without _something_ falling off! Standing up, he reached down and offered Pythagoras a hand, pulling the mathematician to his feet.

"Just so I know," he asked as they descended the steps, "is Isosceles going to be _my_ kitten whenever she does something wrong or whenever we run out of food for her?"

Pythagoras considered it carefully.

"Probably," he said.

* * *

The early evening sun was still streaming in through the windows of the house as the two boys entered, chatting and joking lightly, Jason's earlier upset all but forgotten. The trip to the market had proved fruitful and alongside the meat and fish scraps for Isosceles they had brought home a flagon of reasonably good wine, a pheasant pie (Hercules' favourite) and some beans that Pythagoras planned to mash to accompany the pie – all courtesy of Jason's wages. The kitchen looked cosy and warm bathed in golden sunlight and Pythagoras felt the little glow in his heart that he always got on re-entering the house. He smiled widely at Jason as they put their purchases down on the table. A soft voice was coming from Hercules' room. As Pythagoras started to unpack the food, Jason quietly made his way to the doorway of Hercules' bedroom.

The big man was sitting on the edge of his bed with the kitten stretched out ecstatically on his lap as he stroked the soft fur of her belly. Jason smiled to himself at the sight, making no attempt to let Hercules know he was there yet.

"You're a sweet little thing really aren't you," Hercules said to Isosceles. "I didn't mean it when I said you were scrawny." He ran his fingers gently through the kitten's fur. "I'm not sure how we're going to feed you," he admitted, "but the boys want to keep you and I don't think I can begrudge them." He sighed. "Pythagoras has a habit for taking in waifs and strays. Although I have to say that you're a lot smaller than the last thing he brought home – you'll take a lot less feeding than Jason too. Not that he really eats enough – he certainly didn't last night anyway." Hercules chuckled to himself. "I have to say that Jason has been the most welcome stray that Pythagoras has ever adopted though. But you needn't tell him I said that, alright?" He paused in his stroking of the kitten. Isosceles gave a discontented mew and forced her head in under his hand until he restarted stroking her. "Do you think he's _ever_ going to forgive me?" he asked with a sigh. "I didn't want him to get hurt. I would never want that. I've grown too fond of Jason to ever want to see anything happen to him. I just wish I knew that he was willing to forgive me."

Jason felt horrendously guilty. While part of him _was_ still angry at Hercules – and would probably stay that way for some time – the more rational part recognised that what had happened was not really the burly man's fault – that Hercules had never intended any harm. It would be wrong of him to keep punishing his friend for a situation that had largely been beyond his control. He stepped purposefully into the room. Hercules looked up at the sound and jumped slightly. He had been completely unaware that the two boys had returned home because he had been so wrapped up in talking to the kitten.

"How much did you just hear?" he asked Jason suspiciously.

"Just the last sentence or so," Jason lied, not wanting to embarrass his friend by admitting he had overheard everything. "We've only just got home." He moved over to the bed and sat down alongside Hercules, stretching his hand out to tickle Isosceles under the chin.

"Jason," Hercules started.

"It's alright Hercules," Jason interrupted. "I know that it wasn't really your fault that Alektryon came after me." It was all he could do not to shudder when he said the man's name. "You were only ever trying to protect me."

Hercules nodded.

"I should have been paying more attention to what was going on around me anyway," the young man continued. "If I hadn't been wandering around with my head in the clouds he'd never have got the chance to get close to me. You'd think I'd know better by now."

His older companion looked at him with a growing frown.

"This wasn't your fault," he rumbled. "The only person to blame here is Alektryon. You do know that don't you?"

Jason shrugged, looking at his hands.

"Maybe," he allowed.

Hercules looked hard at the young man next to him. He slipped a friendly arm around the boy's shoulders, almost wincing as he felt Jason stiffen.

Jason forced himself to relax. It's just Hercules, he kept telling himself, there's nothing to worry about. He was more than a bit ashamed of his own automatic reaction. Seeing Hercules' eyes on him, he forced himself to fake a bright smile at the big man, feeling the skin across his cheeks tighten uncomfortably.

Hercules nodded.

"Are we alright now?" he asked.

"No," Jason answered honestly, "but I think we will be. I'm still a bit cross with you but I am trying."

Hercules sighed and gave a rueful smile. That was the best he could ask for at the moment he supposed. Lifting the kitten down onto the floor he stood up and stretched.

"I need food," he declared. "I'm hungry."

Jason grinned.

"You were born hungry," he said.

Supper was cheerful and the atmosphere, while still not quite normal, was much less tense than it had been over the last couple of days – much to Pythagoras' delight. The born peacemaker of the trio he hated to see his friends at odds with one another, and the hope that things might soon return to normal cheered him no end. Of course they were all studiously ignoring the subject of Alektryon and his trial. Pythagoras has pre-warned Hercules before supper that Jason had asked him not to talk about it earlier. The mathematician sat back comfortably, listening to the end of a story that Hercules was telling about one of their neighbours.

"It was never going to end well," the big man declared. "What with her being the daughter of a wealthy man like Oribasius and him cleaning the drains in the bath house. I tried to warn him that it was never going to happen but anything seems possible when you're in love."

"Hercules, you gossip more than an old woman," Pythagoras laughed.

"So what happened?" Jason asked, taking a drink of wine.

Pythagoras looked at his younger friend scandalised.

"Do not encourage him!" he said.

"What?" Jason said. "I want to know what happened."

The blonde mathematician rolled his eyes. He had noticed on previous occasions that Jason could easily become wrapped up in a story – even one of Hercules' tall tales – and listened with rapt attention.

"It's just like Echo," Hercules stated sagely.

"The nymph that pined away because she fell in love with someone who loved himself?" Jason asked in confusion.

Hercules frowned at him.

"No," he said patiently, "Echo the wine merchant's daughter. Fell in love with Stolos, the one-eyed son of the butcher. Let him into her father's wine store one night to try to win his heart. He was found the next morning drunk out of his mind and she ran off to join the Maenads... she always was a strange girl."

"How is that even remotely relevant to the story you were telling?" Pythagoras asked.

Hercules took a deep breath, preparing to explain, and then stopped – even _he_ wasn't quite sure how relevant it was.

His two friends exchanged an amused look and started to laugh at the big man's expense. After a moment Hercules joined in.

"Tell me," he said looking directly at Jason. "Did I ever tell you about the time I hunted the hind of Ceryneia?"

Pythagoras smiled as he took a sip of his own cup of wine, relaxed and happy and fully prepared to indulge Hercules in an evening of storytelling.

* * *

Ariadne sneaked silently through the corridors of the Palace, the hood of a light cloak pulled up over her face. Her destination was the cells and she would far rather that no-one knew she was going there. If she was to have any chance at all of finding evidence to prove that Pasiphae had trumped up the charges against the merchant Alektryon to suit her own agenda then the utmost secrecy was needed. The Princess heard voices ahead of her and backed quickly into the darkness of an alcove. Ahead of her, at the brightly lit junction where the corridor she was in met another, two young female servants were walking, carrying bowls of fruit to replenish the supplies in the royal chambers, chatting animatedly to one another. As they passed out of view, Ariadne slipped forwards, and down the corridor in the direction the girls had come from. Time was of the essence. She did not want her chambers to be discovered empty at this time of night and for there to be any resultant hew and cry. Not that she was specifically barred from leaving her room at any time of the day or night, but her father had been extra vigilant in the wake of recent events – still afraid that someone would take his beloved daughter away from him – and there really was only so many times that she could use the "visiting the Temple to consult with the Oracle" excuse before it became too suspicious.

Having checked that the coast was clear, Ariadne started to descend the stairs to the cells. It was the time of night when the guards invariably disappeared for some supper and she could be fairly certain of having time alone with the prisoner. A flickering torch from somewhere ahead of her made Ariadne slow her pace. Someone else was visiting the prisoner tonight it seemed. Cautiously now she made her way forward, keeping to the shadows until she could hear what was going on.

"What do you want from me My Lady?" Alektryon's voice was agonised and desperate. "I have already confessed as you asked."

"I want nothing." Ariadne would swear that she could hear the smirk in Pasiphae's soft, cultured voice. "There is nothing you could possibly give me that would have any value whatsoever."

"Then why do you continue to torture me?" Desperation made Alektryon brave.

"You touched something that did not belong to you," the Queen hissed. "You played with fire and have been burned. If you had simply confessed to your crimes when I first asked I would not have been forced to hurt you... and I would not have to punish you now."

Ariadne was forever grateful that she could not see what was going on in the cell – the sounds were enough. Whatever Pasiphae was doing – whoever she had helping her – Alektryon began to scream. The screaming was horrendously loud and agonised and went on for a very long time. Finally the merchant went silent.

"I must leave you now," Pasiphae purred. "The King will expect me at his side. Rest assured I will return to resume our "discussion" tomorrow."

Ariadne stepped back out of sight just in time as Pasiphae swept past her, her own cloak billowing around her heels. Once she was sure that her step-mother had gone and she was alone, Ariadne stepped forward and made her way to Alektryon's cell.

Alektryon half lay in a huddled heap in the corner, shivering with pain. Ariadne moved up to the bars silently.

"Who's there?" Alektryon lisped.

Ariadne stepped into the light of a torch.

"My Lady," the man said in surprise. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

"I have been lead to believe that the Queen is responsible for your current predicament," Ariadne said.

"Indeed Your Highness," Alektryon responded. "I have caused offence to Her Majesty and am to be punished for it." His mind was working quickly. If rumour was to be believed then the Queen and Princess Ariadne hated one another. Perhaps that could be used to his advantage now. Every citizen of Atlantis knew that the King doted upon his daughter. Perhaps there was a way he could use the girl to persuade the King that his confession had been forced out of him and his sentence could be quashed.

"You confessed to a despicable crime in front of the King and the court," Ariadne stated. "Are you suggesting to me that your confession was less than truthful? Even under the threat of a death curse?"

"I was tortured until I agreed to confess My Lady," the man responded pitifully. "The Queen made sure that I understood that I would continue to be tortured most cruelly if I did not confess to the "crimes" she was accusing me of. I have done everything she demanded of me and _still_ she continues to torture me..."

Ariadne felt a surge of pity for the man, feeling she had been right to be suspicious of Pasiphae's part in the trial. She reached through the bars and caught hold of Alektryon's hand.

"Do not worry," she said firmly. "I will make sure that you go free."

* * *

By the time work finished the next afternoon, Jason was tired but more relaxed than he had felt in days. He had not slept well again – a combination of insomnia and nightmares preventing sound sleep – but the more relaxed atmosphere at home had helped him to feel calmer. Work had been better too. For whatever reason Perdikkas had chosen to give Jason a succession of little boats to load and unload, all of them at the far end of the docks, well away from the general hustle and bustle of the harbour. It meant that there had been few opportunities for anyone to disturb him, allowing him to immerse himself fully in his work without having to deal with other people; without any of the incidental contact that had been upsetting him and fraying his nerves for the last couple of days.

Making his way back through the agora he wondered whether he should buy some mead or a flagon of wine. Perhaps it was time for things to start getting back to normal – well as normal as they ever got in the little house he shared with his friends. While he could never reconcile himself to the idea of Alektryon being executed for the things he had done, there seemed to be little he could do to prevent it at this present time, and as such there didn't seem to be much point in worrying about it right now. It had been different with Ariadne, he mused. For a start there had been people willing to help him rescue her. He had the feeling that in this case if he so much as suggested trying to stop the execution Hercules might actually burst a blood vessel trying to stop him. He frowned slightly, suddenly feeling a little out of place in a world where everyone except him had no problem with state sanctioned killing.

Walking briskly Jason rounded a corner into the main market square and stopped. Pythagoras was ahead of him apparently purchasing milk from their usual stall. Smiling Jason moved towards him, intending to join his friend.

"Fill it up?" Egina the milk vendor asked the young mathematician.

"Yes please," Pythagoras smiled.

"Is your brother not with you today?" the motherly woman asked as she started to fill the jug.

"My brother?" Pythagoras sounded genuinely confused. "Arcas has not visited Atlantis in many months. I did not know that you had met him on his last visit."

Egina frowned.

"I meant the dark haired lad you're normally with," she said. "I assumed you were brothers."

"Jason?" Pythagoras asked with an incredulous little laugh. "No we are most definitely not brothers. We are not actually related in any way."

Jason froze at his friend's words, the greeting that had been forming on his lips dying away. Although he knew that he and Pythagoras weren't brothers – knew that they weren't really related – he had somehow dared to hope that in the last few months they had become that close. He didn't really remember what it was like to have a real family but somehow Pythagoras had become the brother he had never had. Hearing Pythagoras deny that there was anything between them now hurt – hurt more than he would ever admit. Coming on top of all the bad dreams and bad memories that the situation with Alektryon had stirred up, it felt like the bottom was once again dropping out of his world. Stupid, he berated himself, so stupid. He knew better than to think anyone would ever actually want to stick around for any length of time; knew that he was just too difficult to get on with in the end; knew better than to let anyone get that close. Turning away, he silently made his way back through the market, looking for somewhere where he could be alone and could put the pieces of himself back together before he had to go home and face Pythagoras again.

"No, we are not brothers," Pythagoras continued, oblivious to the fact that his friend had heard the first part of what he had said and was now walking away hurt. "I am closer to Jason than I have ever been to my real brother." He smiled reflectively. "Jason is the brother of my heart not the brother of my blood." He took the jug back from the smiling Egina and started to make his way back home, his busy mind alternating between thinking about his two closest friends and his beloved triangles.


	11. Chapter 11

A/N Thank you all once again for the kind reviews. Just to warn everyone, not much happens in this chapter... I hope you enjoy it and review anyway!

* * *

Pythagoras hummed happily to himself as he worked. Life was good today. The atmosphere in the house was beginning to get back to normal and his ideas were flowing – equations seeming to write themselves on his scattered pieces of parchment. A crash from somewhere in the vicinity of the shelves made him jump and look up with a frown. Isosceles sat on the floor, surrounded by the broken bits of a pot that she had knocked down. Pythagoras sighed and went to clean the pieces up.

"What did you think you were doing?" he asked the kitten.

Isosceles blinked at him.

"You were not supposed to be in the cupboard," he added, tapping Isosceles gently on the nose and eliciting an annoyed squeak from the kitten.

Pythagoras sighed and picked her up, more concerned that she would cut her paws on the shattered sherds than about the broken pot itself. He carefully deposited her on the table and went back to clean the smashed pottery up. Turning around he found that Isosceles had now started playing with the end of his stylus and had made a black mark on the parchment. Pythagoras resisted the urge to curse. It was not really the kitten's fault – she was just young and playful.

"You are going to keep getting into things that you should not, aren't you?" he asked in slight exasperation even as he picked Isosceles up and started to cuddle her. The kitten responded by purring and gently patting his face with one small paw. Pythagoras smiled in spite of himself. It was going to be impossible to stay annoyed with this little creature for any length of time he decided. Looking around, his smile widened as his eyes alighted on the long lengths of twine he customarily used to tie his pieces of parchment together into scrolls. He deposited his fluffy bundle on the floor and selected a piece, tying one end around his stylus to give himself a handle and letting the free end dangle down to the floor. Still smiling Pythagoras experimentally jiggled the string, noting with satisfaction that the free end wriggled across the floor as he did. Isosceles' eyes lit up, focussing completely on the moving twine. Dropping her head towards her paws, her bottom started to wiggle from side to side. Then she pounced, chasing the twine as though it were prey. Pythagoras grinned openly, satisfied that his makeshift toy had attracted the attention of the kitten.

By the time Hercules came home both boy and kitten were fully engrossed in their game. The shadows of evening were lengthening in the room but Pythagoras had not even noticed. His work was still strewn across the surface of the table and supper was nowhere near being started. Hercules stood in the doorway watching the normally studious Pythagoras engaged in a battle royale with the small fluffy bundle for what appeared to be a piece of string. He smiled indulgently at the young man's antics. It was nice to see Pythagoras letting his hair down. Sometimes the big man felt that the lad was far too serious for his own good – although he did have to admit that Pythagoras had relaxed and come out of his shell a lot since Jason had moved in. Perhaps all he had ever needed was an adventurous friend around his own age to bring him out of himself.

"So I come home from a hard day and there's no supper," Hercules boomed gruffly.

Pythagoras yelped in surprise and his burly friend had to stifle a chuckle. The lad quickly recovered himself and attempted to look stern and cross although his eyes sparkled with mischief. That was the main difference between the young man he saw before him now and the shy, introverted young scholar he had first met, Hercules reflected. Nowadays Pythagoras was willing to let his playful side out in public.

"Was it a hard day drinking or a hard day gambling?" Pythagoras asked with some asperity.

"Neither," Hercules sounded affronted. "I'll have you know that I was getting us a job."

Pythagoras stifled the urge to groan out loud. The jobs that Hercules found for them were rarely straightforward and rarely went well. With Jason working most mornings at the docks he could see it falling to him to help his burly friend, and his own studies had been going so well lately that he begrudged the time away from them – although he would never say that to Hercules of course.

"What sort of job?" he asked suspiciously.

"Well I happened to be in the tavern," Hercules began.

Pythagoras nearly swore. Of all the jobs Hercules had found in the past the ones that tended to go worst always started with the words "I happened to be in the tavern". He raised an eyebrow.

"I wasn't drunk," Hercules promised.

Pythagoras raised his eyebrow even further.

"I _wasn't_," Hercules insisted. "I may have gone in for a drink or two but I met Kerkyon in there. Meriones and Gelo are still out of town for a few more days and Kerkyon wants someone to help him guard a shipment of frankincense that is going to be shipped to Pathmos in a few days. It will only be in the storeroom overnight. Nice easy job for us and the pay will be good."

Pythagoras thought back to the last shipment of frankincense they were supposed to guard.

"As long as you do not get drunk and pass out again," he said primly, "and I do not want to hear about any more goat kissing incidents."

"I have never got drunk and kissed a goat," Hercules asserted. He paused and thought about it for a moment. "Well not recently," he amended.

"You have remembered that Jason will be unable to help us this time?" Pythagoras asked.

"Why not?" Hercules sounded genuinely confused. "He'll jump at the chance. It's easy money."

"I think you have forgotten that Jason has a job," Pythagoras said. "A job that requires him to get up at a ridiculously early hour. He can not go gallivanting all over Atlantis for half the night."

"Ah but that's the beauty of it," Hercules said. "It's the night before his day off."

"That may be," the young genius said, "but I think he is entitled to have a day off without you finding extra work for him. Jason has been working hard to keep food on our table."

Hercules looked around with a frown as a thought occurred to him.

"Where is he anyway?" he asked. "Shouldn't he be home by now?"

Pythagoras looked startled before narrowing his eyes as he realised just how late it was getting from the shadows on the wall.

"Yes," he answered slowly, "he is not normally this late. But you know that Jason likes his solitude from time to time. With so much having happened in the last few days perhaps he has just gone for a walk to clear his head and lost track of time. At least with Alektryon in prison he does not need to worry."

Hercules grunted in agreement.

"Right then," he said. "What's for supper?"

Pythagoras suddenly looked abashed.

"I am afraid that I have not started to cook supper," he admitted. "I was busy with my studies and lost track of time."

Hercules looked past him to the stylus with the twine tied to it that lay abandoned on the floor. Isosceles was still pouncing on the end of it, trying to get the twine to move again. He smirked. Pythagoras followed his eyes to the makeshift toy and his blush deepened. Hercules laughed and clapped him heartily on the shoulder, nearly driving his slender companion to his knees.

"You clear up this mess and I'll start supper," the big man said. "It's probably my turn anyway."

As Hercules turned to start preparing food, Pythagoras hurried to gather up his scrolls and tools, nearly tripping over the kitten in his haste. He was irrationally embarrassed at have been caught playing with Isosceles when he should have been working or preparing supper.

"This is all your fault," he said to the kitten, who had followed him into his chambers and was now merrily exploring under the bed. Pythagoras hoped that she didn't wander under Jason's bed like that – you never knew what might have been shoved under there. Isosceles reappeared with a streak of grey dust on her white head and a large cobweb attached to her nose. Pythagoras caught her up with one hand and started to dust her off with the other. It was time he had a thorough cleaning day, he reflected, even as he wandered back towards the kitchen to help Hercules prepare the food.

* * *

For the second time in as many days Jason found himself sitting miserably on the steps of the Temple. He had been sitting there so long that the stars had come out, winking brightly against the velvet blackness of the sky. The view out over the city down towards the ocean was peaceful, and yet it did nothing to calm Jason; to bring him the peace he longed for. He had been stupid to let himself believe that things could be different this time around; stupid to let himself get too close to the other two. He had learned too young that people _always_ let you down in the end – that caring was not an advantage. But, oh, he had _so_ wanted to believe that this time was different. Had wanted to believe that he had found friends who would care no matter what. Had wanted to believe that he could finally start to put down roots. Jason knew that Pythagoras' words to the milk seller had not been intended to be cruel – the young mathematician didn't have a cruel bone in his body – but they had cut deep. He had wanted so much to believe that the two of them shared a close bond – that they could be as close as brothers – and it hurt to think that Pythagoras didn't feel the same way. So he sat still, furiously fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over. Crying would not help him now any more than it had in the past.

He really ought to start thinking about heading for home, the night was more than closing in and the breeze was definitely chilly. Just a few more minutes, Jason decided. Just a few more minutes to let him pull himself together; to help him face his friends as if nothing had happened. And nothing had really happened, he supposed. It was more like the end of a particularly pleasant dream than anything. As far as Hercules and Pythagoras were concerned everything would be as it always was. Jason could go along with that if he had to. Could smile and laugh and pretend that he didn't feel like he was dying inside. He wouldn't make the same mistakes again; wouldn't let himself get too close; would be friendly without risking his heart.

"You must have known deep down that no-one would ever really care." The voice in Jason's head sounded suspiciously like _him_. The young man shuddered involuntarily, running a hand roughly through his dark curls. He had been trying to forget the owner of that particular voice for a decade now and had largely succeeded in locking the man away in the deepest, darkest recesses of his memory. At least until recently. For whatever reason the incident with Alektryon had dredged up old memories that were far better left forgotten. Jason sighed as he struggled to consign the shadow of the man he had once known back into the darkness – to bury him once more.

"It was never going to be that easy to get rid of me," the voice said. "I'm part of you now."

"Shut up," Jason muttered, unaware in his distress that he was talking to himself out loud.

"Jason?" a deep resonant voice called.

The young man looked up and saw Melas, the High Priest of Poseidon, coming down the steps towards him, his friendly face concerned. Jason swore silently to himself, trying to pull himself together and shove the bad memories away before the kindly priest got to him.

As Melas drew close his frown deepened. He had been watching the young man from the doorway of the Temple for some time and what he saw disquieted him. He liked Jason, and would have done so even without the Oracle's predictions for the young man's future – without knowing that he had the potential to save the whole of Atlantis. There was something very honest about the lad – some very good qualities that the priest saw all too rarely in people. He was brave, selfless and kind, and Melas knew just how unusual those things were. The young man before him now bore little resemblance to the Jason that he knew, however. Melas took in the pale face and red ringed eyes and saw a soul in torment. A soul that it was his duty as a priest to try to comfort – something he would have tried to do for this special boy even if it had not been his duty.

"You are troubled my child," he said softly as he sat down beside Jason, reaching out a hand and gently placing it on the young man's shoulder.

For the first time in days Jason did not flinch at being touched. There was something very calming about the priest's presence. He had no real wish to talk about his problems, however, and quickly sough a way to convince the man that he was fine

"No," he scoffed, swallowing past the burning in his throat, trying to sound nonchalant and incredulous, and instead sounding like a teenager trying to lie to his parents for the first time.

Melas smiled. He had suspected that the boy would be terrible at lying and now he had the proof. He continued to look steadily at Jason until the young man blushed and looked at the floor.

"It's nothing important," the lad said. "It's nothing I can't handle."

"Perhaps of you were to share you problems they would be easier to bare," Melas argued gently.

Jason half smiled.

"You're very kind," he said, "but I don't really want to talk."

"If that is the case then you must ask Poseidon for his guidance," Melas stated.

"I don't really believe in your gods," Jason admitted, not wanting to offend the man but not feeling able to agree with him.

Melas smiled gently. He knew that this boy had been raised in another world and that the gods of Atlantis were alien to him, and therefore took no offence. He patted the lad on the shoulder as he stood up.

"Then I will pray for us both," he said.

Jason watched him return to the Temple and turned back to his own contemplation of the city skyline. He was beyond late for supper now and it would be extremely rude to wait any longer before returning home. He had managed to pull enough of himself back together to put on a show of normality and he should be able to rebuild enough of his defensive walls on the short walk home to be able to function without any cracks showing through his façade. At least he hoped so anyway. Sighing softly to himself he started to descend the steps and pointed his feet in the direction of home, still deep in thought.

* * *

The house was dark and quiet when Jason let himself back in through the door, trying to make as little noise as possible.

"Do you want to tell us what's going on?" Hercules' deep voice boomed from behind him.

Jason jumped and spun around. His two friends were seated at the table facing the doorway. Hercules had his arms folded and was eyeing him sternly with one eyebrow raised, and Pythagoras was worrying anxiously at his lower lip. Jason cringed internally, mentally flashing back to himself at 15 letting himself in to the house of his foster family of the week two hours after curfew and coming face to face with his very irate foster father. The placement had not ended well for any of them. His foster parents had felt that he was running wild and he had felt that they were too uptight. It had been a relief to all parties when he had gone back to the children's home. Jason almost smiled at the memory. With hindsight his foster parents had been right – he _had_ been beginning to run wild, to rebel against the constraints of his life, but he'd had a hell of a lot of fun doing it.

Now, though, the serious expression on Hercules' face made him feel both very guilty and want to laugh at the same time.

"Evening," he said awkwardly.

If anything Hercules' eyebrow raised even further.

"And just where have you been?"

Jason resisted the urge to scuff his foot, feeling like a teenager again.

"Erm, I went for a walk after work and lost track of time," he said lamely.

"For all this time?" Hercules growled incredulously. "You missed supper."

"Sorry," Jason answered sheepishly. "I went to the Temple."

"You went to visit the Oracle?" Pythagoras asked.

"No," Jason answered. "Just went to the Temple."

Pythagoras frowned at that. He knew that Jason visited the Oracle at times, but given his lack of knowledge of the gods or understanding of the prayers and rituals that went with their worship, he could see no other reason for his friend to go to the Temple.

"Why?" he asked innocently.

Jason resisted the urge to growl. He had only been home for five minutes and already his grip on his temper was weakening – his defences under threat.

"Because I wanted to," he snapped.

Pythagoras blinked in surprise, startled that his innocent question had elicited such a sharp response.

"I did not mean to pry," he said in a small voice.

Jason felt guilty. Pythagoras had clearly not meant to upset him and couldn't understand what he had done wrong. It was not his fault that he did not feel as close to Jason as his friend had thought, or that Jason was afraid to talk to him about it, scared that the response might confirm his worst fears. The brunette lad sighed.

"I'm sorry," he said, striving to make his voice as close to normal as possible. "I'm tired. It's been a long day and I lost track of time this evening. I didn't want to make either of you worry."

Pythagoras smiled weakly.

"You must be hungry," he said turning towards the fire. "I saved you some supper. Hercules has made his famous fish stew."

Jason raised his eyebrows.

"Hercules cooked?" he asked.

"Yes," Pythagoras responded.

"Is it his birthday?" Jason queried with some amusement.

"Oi," Hercules said indignantly. "I'll have you know I can cook very well."

Pythagoras started to spoon the stew out into the dish, relieved that the tension in the room had once again been broken as his friends continued to banter back and forth. He placed the bowl down in front of his friend. Jason took a mouthful and froze.

"This is _really _good," he said with his mouth full, manners momentarily forgotten in his surprise.

Hercules beamed.

"You don't have to sound so surprised," he said.

Jason swallowed.

"Sorry," he apologised. "I just wasn't expecting it to taste like this."

"That is why it is famous," Pythagoras informed him. "Hercules is a good cook anyway – at least when he is sober and I can persuade him to take his turn – but his fish stew is amazing."

The big man preened at the praise. He pushed himself up from the table with his chest puffed out.

"I'm glad you appreciate it," he said with no trace of modesty. "This is just one of the reasons I am a legend among my people."

His two younger companions exchanged an amused look, openly grinning.

"Don't wait up, I might be late," Hercules stated.

"Tavern?" Jason asked in between mouthfuls of stew.

Hercules smiled.

"I might be meeting one or two friends for a small drink or two," he admitted.

"Just don't gamble away all our money," Pythagoras admonished.

"Have I ever let you down like that," the older man asked incredulously.

"Yes," the two boys answered at the same time.

"All too often," Pythagoras added.

Once Hercules had gone, the mathematician turned back to Jason with a smile.

"Now that Hercules is gone we will have to entertain ourselves," he said brightly. "Perhaps we could talk for a while."

Jason stopped and put his spoon down in his now empty bowl, swallowing hard. Now that he was alone with Pythagoras he realised that he would not be able to maintain his façade as easily as he had thought – would not be able to convince the mathematician that everything was normal for very long. What he really needed was a few days to get used to the situation himself; to get used to the new normal; to be able to keep his friends at arms length while convincing them that nothing had changed. And it really hadn't changed, he thought. They still felt about him the way they always had. It was just that he had to get used to the fact that they were clearly not as fond of him as he had come to believe – as he had hoped. No, it wasn't his friends who were any different – it was himself. Until he could harden his heart again it was better if he avoided the other two as much as possible.

"Actually I'm tired," he said abruptly. "I'm just going to go to bed."

With that Jason stood up and made his way into his bedroom, leaving a very surprised Pythagoras sitting at the kitchen table with only Isosceles to keep him company.

"What do you think that was all about?" Pythagoras asked the kitten.

Isosceles regarded him seriously and gave a little mew in response.

"I must be going mad," the young man muttered to himself. "I am actually having a conversation with a cat."

The kitten gave another little mew and pushed her head under the blonde's hand, trying to encourage him to stroke her. Pythagoras smiled at her antics and started to run his hand through her soft fur.

"Well at least you are not yet ready for bed," he observed, reaching inside his indoor robe for the twine wrapped stylus to play with Isosceles once again.


	12. Chapter 12

A/N Thank you all for the lovely reviews on the last chapter - the general consensus of opinion seems to be that Jason needs a good shaking or a slap to knock some sense into him. I can't promise that will happen yet awhile... ;-)

I'm sorry this chapter has taken so long to post but I've been away on holiday with no real access to the internet via my computer. Still it's here now.

Please read and review to let me know that you've enjoyed it - if you do enjoy it that is...

Alright - on with the show!

* * *

The air was definitely colder today, Pythagoras noted as he pulled his outer robe a little more tightly around himself. Eurus was blowing again. The young man resisted the urge to shudder. Hercules had been right the other night, Eurus had brought change and it had not been for the better. It almost felt like a lifetime ago when the three of them had sat around this table the evening before Proerosia, with Pythagoras and Hercules telling Jason the story of the east wind and yet it was only six nights ago. So much had happened since then and so much seemed to have changed between them all.

For the last day and a half Jason had been avoiding his two friends like the plague, and when he had put in an appearance he had been different – almost distant; colder somehow. Pythagoras frowned. He was more convinced than ever that something had happened to Jason that the young man wasn't saying. Still, tomorrow was the brunette's day off from the docks and Pythagoras intended to make full use of it. He planned to pin his elusive friend down and take him out for the day somewhere where they could both relax and he could try to winkle whatever was bothering Jason out of him. Perhaps another trip to the beach would work – or maybe a visit to the woods outside Atlantis. Jason might be somewhat secretive in nature but Pythagoras had been studying him for many months now and had worked out which buttons to push to persuade his friend to open up some time ago. Then, after he had found out what was troubling Jason and helped him to deal with it, Pythagoras thought they might visit the agora. Hercules had been right the other night – it really was time that Jason got himself some new clothes for the coming winter but he seemed indifferent to the prospect. Once again Pythagoras thought he just needed a gentle push in the right direction – needed someone to look after him. The problem was that Jason was usually so busy thinking about how to help other people that he didn't even consider his own needs. Pythagoras shook his head in fond exasperation. He really was surprised at times that Jason had managed to survive for as long as he apparently had without a person to make sure that he was alright – to make sure that he ate and looked after himself.

The young mathematician looked up as Hercules blundered into the room. The big man was relatively sober but clearly looking for a drink from the way he picked up the wine jug and shook it hopefully. It was empty. Hercules frowned.

"Just wonderful," he growled to himself. Looking up he seemed to notice Pythagoras for the first time. "Afternoon," he grunted.

"Hello Hercules," Pythagoras greeted the burly wrestler. "You finished it last night," he added unhelpfully, nodding at the wine jug.

Hercules grunted in response and looked around the room.

"Is Grumpy not home yet?" he asked looking over to the corner alcove that formed Jason's bedroom.

Pythagoras bit his lip. He really wanted to defend Jason but his younger friend's moods had been so volatile over the last few days that he couldn't actually blame Hercules for beginning to lose patience with the young man.

"No," he answered. "He told us last night that the other dock workers had invited him out to the tavern after work today, don't you remember?"

Hercules grunted again. It was a bit of a sore point. After the conversation he had had with Pythagoras the other day when the young genius had suggested that perhaps Jason would be a little unwilling to help with the job of guarding the frankincense tonight, Hercules had been a bit wary of approaching their dark haired friend. Still he had been sure that with a little persuasion the usually affable young man would come around and would help them. He had been somewhat surprised and disappointed when, upon broaching the subject last night, Jason had politely but firmly informed him that he would not be helping them and would instead be going out for the evening with his workmates. Hercules had perhaps grown a little annoyed and might have suggested that Jason was being unreasonable and forgetting his duty to his old friends in favour of pleasure with new ones. With hindsight that had possibly not been the right thing to say. It had resulted in the dark haired lad losing his temper once again, saying some decidedly scathing things that he would undoubtedly regret in the light of day and storming out. That had been the last they had seen of him for the evening, but his bed had clearly been slept in and his lunch bundle was gone this morning so he had at least returned home at some point.

"Jason is entitled to go out and enjoy himself from time to time," Pythagoras continued reasonably, trying to mollify his big friend. "You do it all the time."

"Yes but that's different," Hercules grumbled. "I don't go out drinking when my friends need help."

Pythagoras resisted the urge to point out that Hercules had in fact gone out drinking on many occasions when he had needed help with something. That would be unkind. The big man seemed genuinely upset that Jason was still not being particularly friendly to either one of them – was clearly still unhappy. The mathematician worried at his lip some more. He had thought that things were getting better – that everything was beginning to get back to normal – but Jason seemed more distracted and distant than ever. He silently cursed Alektryon's name. If it hadn't been for the man and his desire for revenge on Hercules they would never have been in this position. Still he was due to be executed in two days time and then things might hopefully begin to return to normal. While Pythagoras could not be pleased at the outcome, he really did not understand Jason's attitude towards capital punishment. Surely his friend could see that it was an effective deterrent and a sensible means of punishment? Pythagoras sighed silently. Sometimes he did not understand his strange friend at all.

Of course that was another reason to get Jason out of the city tomorrow. There would be a lot of gossip and speculation with regards to Alektryon's fate and it would build to fever pitch by the time of the execution itself. Pythagoras wanted to spare his friend hearing any of the inevitable gossip if possible. Jason did not need to hear the gory details of the method of execution or be subjected to the speculation of the general populous who didn't know what had actually happened and therefore would make up their own version of events. His friend seemed to have enough problems at the moment as it was – no matter how much he might claim that everything was alright his mood swings were getting more pronounced every day. Sooner or later he was going to run afoul of Hercules' own volatile temper and Pythagoras was not looking forward to the argument that would undoubtedly ensue when he did.

"I'm off out," Hercules announced suddenly. "There are still some things to arrange for tonight."

"What arrangements have you made?" Pythagoras asked.

"You will take first watch," Hercules stated. "It should be fairly quiet. I'll take over from you for the middle bit of the night and then Kerkyon will take over from me for the end of the night." He paused. "Of course if Jason wasn't being moody you wouldn't have had to come out at all," he added.

Pythagoras took no offence. He knew that Jason was Hercules' first choice of companion for this type of job. He had good reason for that too. Put bluntly the mathematician was awkward, clumsy and useless with a sword. Jason on the other hand was far more physical and much more suited to the job.

Pythagoras smiled at Hercules as brightly as he could manage – which to be honest was more than a little wanly.

"Make the arrangements and I will be ready," he promised.

Hercules nodded and clasped the young man on the shoulder in a friendly manner, before leaving quickly.

Pythagoras felt a nudge at his hand and looked down to discover Isosceles batting at him in an attempt to gain his attention. He picked up the tiny kitten and snuggled her into his arms, suddenly needing comforting. He dropped his face down towards her soft fur, nuzzling gently.

"I just want things to get back to normal," he told the kitten plaintively.

Isosceles purred and patted his face softly.

"Why won't Jason tell me what is wrong?" Pythagoras asked her sadly. "I only want to help. We are a family. I only wish Jason could see that."

* * *

It really wasn't working, Jason decided as he nursed a cup of wine in one of the taverns near to the docks. No matter how hard he tried he just didn't seem to be able to keep his friends at arms length; to harden his heart. He couldn't understand it. He'd always been able to distance himself from people – had perfected the art of protecting himself by fading into the background – by becoming part of the wallpaper. All his life he had been a ghost, leaving little impression on those around him, being friendly and affable and instantly forgettable. He had left few footprints behind in his former life; had been no more than a ripple on the water. Yet now, when he most wanted to fade away, when all he really wanted was to be able to pull back into himself once again, he did not seem to be able to do it. His friends had slotted too deeply into his heart and it almost physically hurt to pull away from them. Jason closed his eyes briefly. Everything was such a mess. Part of him longed to go back to how everything was before. To have never heard what Pythagoras had said. To be able to scrub the knowledge from his mind. To able to forget the feeling of Alektryon's hand upon his face. To be able to rid himself of all the unwanted memories he had. He swallowed hard against the burning feeling in his throat. He _had_ to be able to do this – had to be able to be the Jason his friends knew without opening his heart again – had to be able to smile and act as normal no matter how much it hurt for their sake.

All around him the sounds of boisterous revelry rang out through the darkening evening. The tavern that the other dock workers habitually frequented was a bit rowdier than anything Jason was used to – much more raucous than those Hercules usually frequented even in his darkest moments – and as soon as the young man had walked in he had correctly identified it as a trouble spot. The truth be told he wasn't really in the mood to come here tonight but it was either take up his workmates offer of an evening spent trying to drink himself into oblivion or spend another evening wandering the streets aimlessly, trying to put off going home and facing his friends for as long as possible. He sighed. It had been a mistake to come here. Even the bright and rowdy atmosphere of the tavern was doing little to brighten his dark mood. He sank deeper onto his stool and stared into the cup of wine as if it held all the answers to all the problems in the universe.

Old Sinis stood at the bar frowning as he watched his newest workmate. The lad was clearly not in the right frame of mind to be here. Was drinking heavily and almost desperately. He had seen men drinking like that before – trying to drown whatever troubled them in alcohol. He had seen it before amongst some of his workmates and it never grew any easier watching someone he worked with apparently self-destructing in front of him. Grimly he made his way over to the corner where the young man had hidden himself ever since the dockers had arrived. Trying not to startle the boy, who clearly was not aware of his presence yet, he slid onto the stool opposite and cleared his throat loudly. Jason jumped slightly and looked up from his cup in surprise.

"It's not there you know," Sinis said conversationally.

"Sorry?" Jason sounded genuinely confused.

"Whatever it is that you're looking for. Whatever's bothering you. You won't find it at the bottom of a cup of wine."

Jason laughed awkwardly.

"I don't know what you mean," he said.

"When I invited you to join the gang after work tonight I didn't really mean you to spend the evening hiding on a corner and trying to drown yourself with wine," Sinis commented. "In my experience drinking when you're unhappy only makes things worse."

Jason grimaced.

"I know," he admitted. "I've never been much of a drinker anyway." He paused. "I'm sorry. I'm not very sociable at the best of times," he admitted. "I've always been a bit uncomfortable with people – particularly people I don't know all that well."

Sinis nodded.

"Figured as much," he said. He nodded towards their workmates, who were enjoying themselves in various stages of inebriation – some were gambling on a rat race in one corner, others exchanging boastful stories, a couple were deep in conversation in another corner, and one was enjoying the dubiously pleasurable company of an over-painted young woman – her face made up garishly and her bright clothes none too clean. "They're a rough lot," Sinis admitted. "Perhaps a bit rougher than your used to. But they've got good hearts. They'll look after you if you'll let them."

"I don't need looking after," Jason protested, frowning.

"Maybe you do and maybe you don't," Sinis said amicably. "What I'm getting at is that you ought to give them the chance. You've kept yourself to yourself a lot at work. Never really got to know the other lads. Maybe that's just your way. It's not a problem if it is but it might do you some good to get to know them. To try and relax around them. Maybe let your hair down a bit. Have some fun. Can't do any harm... and it'd be a damn sight better than drinking yourself into unconsciousness all on your own." He raised an eyebrow at the young man who had the good grace to look embarrassed.

Smiling the older man stood up and offered a hand to his young companion. Jason took it and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

"Come on," Sinis said ushering the lad forward. "Come and meet the boys properly."

* * *

The frankincense was being stored in the small warehouse that Meriones had brought them to on the night they had tricked Dakos into giving up all his possessions and travelling to Samothrake so many months ago, although it was far from empty now. The shelves were full of wine amphorae and opulent silks, and the still air hung heavy and redolent with spices Hercules couldn't even name. As he looked about him, however, Hercules could still see in his minds eye Meriones sitting with Dakos while Jason looked on from his perch on the empty crates at the side of the room, pale and gaunt, his face too thin and ghostly. The big man shuddered. Despite what they had done to the merchant (and he _was_ still proud of that) those were not pleasant memories and he fought to shove them out of his mind, reminding himself that Dakos was far from Atlantis and Jason was fit and healthy – albeit moody at the moment.

The evening had so far gone well. Pythagoras had taken his turn, sitting at the small table inside the warehouse where Meriones had sat with Dakos to listen to his story, and had reported that everything had been quiet and peaceful. The young man had gone home to a well earned rest leaving Hercules to guard the frankincense for the next few hours. The big man had forgone the pleasures of the wine jug this evening. After everything that had happened lately he felt an almost desperate need not to let Pythagoras down, and so had sat through the last few hours stone cold sober. It was chilly in the warehouse and as the hours passed the cold seemed to seep into Hercules' bones. He could have done with a drink just to warm him up and he looked longingly at the shelves of wine amphorae half hidden in the darkness, the only point of light the small lantern that sat on the table, casting long shadows about the rest of the room. It was nearly time for Kerkyon to take over now. Nearly time for Hercules to go home and find his bed, content in the knowledge of a job well done and knowing that they would be paid well for the night's work. As it had turned out, the job had been even easier than the burly man had expected and they had not actually needed Jason at all. Hercules frowned. The lad's behaviour was beginning to become a distinct problem. Besides anything else he was starting to upset Pythagoras, and Hercules would not – could not – accept that. Something would have to be done soon.

A noise at the door made the big man look up suddenly, hand reaching automatically for the hilt of the sword he had placed in front of himself on the table. The door started to creak open and Hercules' hand tightened around the sword hilt as his eyes narrowed suspiciously. He lifted the lantern with his free hand, squinting into the darkness by the doorway. A figure appeared. As it stepped towards the table where Hercules waited it coalesced into Kerkyon and the bulky wrestler instantly relaxed. The blonde man squinted seriously at Hercules.

"Everything alright?" he asked in his usual laconic manner.

"Yes," Hercules rumbled. "It's all been quiet."

Kerkyon smiled.

"Good thing no-one knows the frankincense is here," he noted. "There are thieving so and so's around these days."

Hercules nodded.

"Meriones is out of town at the moment though," he said without thinking.

Kerkyon laughed and clapped him on the shoulder.

"I'll tell him you said that," he promised.

Hercules grinned.

"Wouldn't worry me if you did," he answered. "Meriones and I have been friends for too long." He passed the lantern over to the blonde.

"Goodnight my friend," Kerkyon said. "Go safely."

"You too," Hercules responded. "I hope the rest of the night is as quiet for you as it has been for me."

He made his way to the doorway and stepped out into the street.

The streets of Atlantis were dark in the early hours of the morning, although the waxing moon cast a sickly, pale light over everything. Here and there a lantern still shone, casting brief flares of light across the streets, the shadows deep and dark where the lamplight did not reach. Hercules hurried on towards home, anxious to get out of the cold night air and into his nice warm bed. A noise of running feet made him pause, drawing back into the shadows. The sound of people running in the streets of Atlantis at night was never a good one – usually it meant that the city guards were chasing someone and Hercules had no wish to get embroiled in someone else's altercation with the authorities. The sounds drew closer. A small group of men in rough work tunics raced past. One of their number stumbled and fell, tripping over a small crate. Hercules swore to himself as he realised that the young man who had tripped had very familiar dark curls and he darted out of the shadows, grabbing Jason by the scruff of the neck and dragging him back into the dark opening of an alleyway just before the guards ran past. Once the retreating of their pounding feet indicated they had gone, he dragged the lad back out of the alley and into the faint light cast by a lamp to get a good look at him. Jason looked extremely dishevelled, the split on his lip which had started to heal over the last couple of days had reopened and a thin trail of blood ran down his face. He was also very drunk. Hercules swore again. In all the time Jason had been in Atlantis neither of his friends had ever seen him really drunk. Perhaps a little tipsy on the rare occasion but never actually drunk.

"What in the name of the gods have you been up to?" Hercules growled, never relinquishing his hold on the back of the boy's tunic.

Jason squinted blearily at him.

"Hercules," he slurred after a long moment, clearly pleased with himself for recognising his friend. "I've been for a drink wiv the lads." He turned in a slow, stumbling circle and would have tripped over his own feet if Hercules hadn't kept a firm grip on him. "Where'd the lads go?" he added in confusion.

Hercules sighed.

"They had to go home," he rumbled patiently.

Jason frowned.

"But we was havin' a good time," he protested.

"Yes but it's time to go home now Jason," Hercules said, slinging one of the boy's arms across his shoulders and grasping him firmly around the waist in an attempt to stop Jason from falling over his own feet.

"Nah," Jason slurred. "I want annover drink. I want to forget."

"Forget what?" the big man asked.

Jason thought for a moment.

"I can't remember," he sniggered.

Hercules rolled his eyes and started to pull the young man off towards home. Fortunately they were not far away from their own door.

Once they had reached the house, Hercules dragged a protesting Jason up the stairs and into the kitchen. He deposited the inebriated boy onto a bench and poured a cup of water.

"Drink," Hercules instructed firmly holding the cup out the the lad.

Jason obediently drank, then frowned at the cup.

"Iss only water," he protested. "Iss not wine."

Hercules raised an eyebrow.

"I think you've probably had more than enough wine for one night," he muttered, taking the now empty cup back off Jason and pouring some more water into it. "Water will help with the hangover."

"What hangover?" Jason slurred, taking the cup and draining it again. "Iss _still_ not wine."

"The one you're going to have come morning," Hercules stated. He turned at a noise from the far side of the room to see Pythagoras coming out of his bedroom, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

"What's going on?" the young genius asked.

"Nothing," Hercules sought to quickly reassure the young man. "Why don't you go back to bed?"

Pythagoras stumbled further into the room, frowning at Hercules' obvious attempt to get rid of him. His eyes came to rest of Jason and his frown deepened.

"Is he?" he asked.

"Oh yes," Hercules rumbled. "As drunk as they come. I think he's probably been in a fight too."

Pythagoras bit his lip and stepped forwards, grabbing a soft cloth as he came. He dipped it in the water jug and stepped towards Jason, intent on cleaning the trickle of blood off his friend's lip. Jason shied away like a startled horse.

"Don't," he mumbled sharply as Pythagoras touched the cloth to his face. "Don't touch me."

"It is alright," Pythagoras said soothingly. "It's just me. I would not hurt you."

"I don't like it!" Jason asserted, trying to pull away again. "Never liked it when _he _touched me neither."

"Who?" Pythagoras asked. "Alektryon?"

"Nah," Jason said. "_Him_."

"Who?" Pythagoras asked again, thoroughly confused.

"_Him_. He was all nice to me and everyfing. Said he wanted to look after me," Jason frowned mutinously. "But I don't need no lookin' after. An' I didn't need him." He looked plaintively at Pythagoras. "I just wanna forget... why can't I forget?"

Pythagoras frowned. There was no use trying to push the conversation any further no matter how much he wanted to know what Jason was talking about – and no matter how much he thought his friend needed to talk. Jason was far too intoxicated to know what he was saying or to make much sense. It would be a far better idea to let his friend sleep the alcohol off and try to have a proper conversation in the morning. He exchanged a meaningful look with Hercules who sighed and rolled his eyes before dragging Jason up off the bench by one arm.

As they got to Jason's corner alcove the dark haired lad looked sadly at Hercules.

"I'm sorry," he slurred.

"It's alright," Hercules said softly. He might be irritated beyond belief at the state Jason had got himself into – even though it was a condition that he himself was all too frequently in – but there was no point haranguing the lad when he was too drunk to appreciate a good talking to. "Let's just get you to bed and we can talk about it in the morning."

At that apparent indication of approval from Hercules, Jason flopped face first onto the bed. Hercules gave an exasperated sigh and moved to roll the lad gently onto his back so that he wouldn't suffocate. He paused. The inebriated boy looked startlingly young passed out drunk on the bed. The big man shook his head fondly and carefully removed the lad's sandals, covering him gently with a blanket and pausing to brush the dark curls away from Jason's face. For a moment he stopped there, his hand resting in the soft hair and closed his eyes. Looking up again he saw Pythagoras watching him carefully, his face unreadable.

"Come on," the big man said. "Time we were in bed."

The mathematician nodded and turned back towards his own room.

"Goodnight," he said.

"Sleep well, my friend," Hercules answered, before making his way into his own room in search of his bed.

* * *

A soft paw patting incessantly at the side of his face woke Jason from a relatively peaceful slumber. It was the first time in days that he couldn't remember having bad dreams. For a moment he lay with his eyes closed, letting the kitten pat and nuzzle at him trying to persuade him to get up. He cracked open his eyes to look at her and his head exploded as the morning light stabbed his eyes. Somehow his brain felt too small for his skull and pounded relentlessly – a throbbing accompaniment to the rolling of his stomach. He groaned softly – doing anything loudly would _not_ be a good idea – and carefully rolled onto his side trying to find a position to rest his head that would lessen the drumbeat pounding, dislodging Isosceles from her place on his chest in the process. The kitten responded with a high pitched irritated squeak that cut straight through Jason, making his head throb more than ever. He moaned again.

"Good morning," Hercules boomed cheerfully and loudly – far too loudly in Jason's opinion. "Are we feeling a little delicate this morning?"

Jason opened his mouth to respond when a sudden lurch of his stomach sent him bolting out of bed towards the latrine. As he crouched on the floor with his eyes still squeezed shut retching painfully, he felt a soft comforting hand rubbing gently between his shoulder blades. Finally there was nothing left to empty out of his stomach and Jason sat back, curling into a miserable ball. A gentle tap on his arm made him crack his eyes open once again and saw the kind face of Pythagoras looking back at him with concern, holding out a cup of water.

"To rinse your mouth out," the mathematician explained quietly. "And once you think you can keep it down I have something that may help with the headache."

"You never do that for me," Hercules grumbled, although it was at a fraction of the volume he had used before.

Pythagoras looked up sharply.

"You are used to it," he said with asperity. "You feel unwell if you do not wake up with a hangover."

Hercules looked as though he wanted to protest for a moment. Then he thought about it.

"True," he admitted.

On any normal day Jason would have enjoyed the banter between his friends – would have joined in himself – but right now all he really wanted to do was find a quiet place where he could just curl up and die in peace. After a long moment he said as much. Pythagoras looked confused and even more concerned for a moment.

"I do not think you will die from a hangover," the young genius said. "Although you might feel like you want to. Hercules certainly never has."

"It's just an expression," Jason muttered. Once he was sure his stomach was back under control, he carefully pushed himself to his feet, waited for the room to stop spinning and then wandered back to his bed, lowering himself down slowly. He put his hands up over his face.

"Please tell me I didn't cause a riot or anything last night," he pleaded.

Pythagoras looked at him quizzically.

"Why would you have caused a riot?" he asked.

"Don't know," mumbled Jason. He frowned as memories started to filter back through his fuzzy brain. "I think I might have been singing at one point," he admitted.

"Well that is not so bad," Pythagoras said. "All things considered you could have done a lot worse."

"You've never heard me sing," Jason muttered. He tried to force his sluggish brain into gear over the throbbing in his head. "I may have been in a bar fight," he confessed.

"Yes I think we had worked that one out," Pythagoras stated.

Jason pulled his hands off his face and stared at the mathematician in surprise.

"How?" he asked.

"You were running from the city guards with a group of dockers when I found you," Hercules rumbled. "You tripped over a crate in front of me and I only just managed to drag you out of sight before they came round the corner. You'd split your lip back open so I figured you'd all probably been in a fight."

Jason groaned.

"What happened my friend?" Pythagoras asked.

Jason frowned and tried to think.

"I went to this tavern after work. It was a bit... rowdy," he said. "The bar man only had one eye and half his ear was missing." He paused, thinking as hard as his hangover would allow.

Hercules looked at him in horror.

"Down near the docks?" he asked. "Place looks like it's about to fall down? Girl with frizzy yellow hair hanging out of the upstairs window?"

Jason nodded and then wished he hadn't as the room span and the pounding in his skull increased.

"That's the roughest tavern in the whole of Atlantis," Hercules growled. "I'm surprised you managed to get out of there alive."

Jason's frown deepened.

"The guys I work with seemed to be regulars," he said defensively. "Everyone was very friendly."

Hercules raised an eyebrow.

"Friendly?" he said incredulously. "I've known people to have bits cut off them in there. I don't know what you were thinking going in there!"

"Did you want to hear what happened or not?" Jason snapped having reached the end of his admittedly very short fuse. Raising his voice turned out to be a bad idea and he moaned in pain, putting his hand up to his forehead.

Hercules held up his hands defensively, trying very hard to keep a grip on his own temper for the sake of Pythagoras who was sitting watching his two friends wide eyed and anxious.

Jason sighed.

"Sorry," he apologised. "Anyway. We went to this tavern and I was only going to have one or two," he paused, thinking. "Probably two," he concluded honestly. "Only when I got there I started thinking about things I didn't really want to think about and I might have knocked back a couple. I was sort of sitting on my own in the corner and one of the guys came over – Sinis – he's a nice guy – and he made me go and join the others," he paused again. "I guess I lost track of what I was drinking," Jason admitted, "but everyone was laughing and having a good time and I wanted to join in for once... I've never been very good at joining in," he stopped and looked at his hands.

Hercules frowned.

"So you went to the roughest tavern in Atlantis and got very drunk just so you could join in," he rumbled. "That still doesn't explain why you were running away from the city guards."

"Does there need to be a reason?" Jason asked quizzically.

Hercules thought about it.

"Not normally, no," he admitted, "but you still haven't finished the story."

"I don't really know what happened," Jason said. "There was this girl. She wasn't very pretty – or very clean come to that – and she had too much make-up on... but Numa – that's one of the guys – seemed to like her. Only there was another man wanted to talk to her too and he started to push Numa around. Numa's only little and the other guys didn't like it very much so they started to go for the other guy and then some of _his_ friends joined in."

Hercules stared at him, his eyebrows nearly disappearing into his receding hairline.

"You got in a fight over a tart," he growled crossly. "A tart that wasn't even very pretty."

Jason looked uncomfortable.

"Maybe," he acknowledged. "I don't really know. I just remember there being lots of pushing and shoving. I'm not really sure who hit who first – or who threw the first bar stool – but the guards turned up and we all ran."

"Of all the ridiculous things you've done, Jason," Hercules' voice started to rise, "this just about caps them all. All the trouble you've caused us since you came to Atlantis... What in the name of the gods did you think you were doing? Are you completely insane? Going into a place like that and getting involved in a fight that wasn't yours?"

Pythagoras looked between the two of them. Although he did actually agree with Hercules on this occasion, he still hated to see Jason looking so miserable.

"This is not helping," he murmured to the burly wrestler. He turned back to Jason. "Why were you drinking like that in the first place?" he asked. "This is not like you Jason."

The brunette lad looked even more uncomfortable.

"It doesn't matter," he mumbled, scrutinising a loose thread on his blanket to avoid having to meet Pythagoras' gaze.

"You are clearly upset," the mathematician pressed. "You have been for days... and you have been avoiding me – been avoiding both of us," he paused as a thought occurred to him. "Is it something I have done?" he asked.

"No," Jason responded, still looking everywhere but at the mathematician. "I'm fine."

Pythagoras winced. "I'm fine" usually meant that Jason was anything but fine. It seemed to be Jason code for "I'm really not fine but I don't want to admit that there's anything wrong". He sighed. Perhaps this was not going to be as easy as he thought if Jason was upset at him for some reason and determined not to speak.

"You are clearly _not_ fine," he said sharply. "We are all friends. I would have hoped that we could tell one another anything. I only wish to help. What troubles you so much?"

Jason inwardly cringed. The last thing he wanted to do was to explain to Pythagoras what he had overheard. He could not bear it if Pythagoras confirmed his worst fears by reiterating what he had said to the milk seller. The mathematician would undoubtedly be kind (as was his nature) and would try to avoid upsetting Jason as much as possible but the end result would still be the same. No, for his own protection he needed to avoid having this particular conversation until the sting of what he had overheard had faded.

"I told you the other day," he lied, "it's just some old memories that I thought I'd forgotten." It wasn't even really all that much of a lie, he tried to convince himself. The memories and nightmares that he had been trying to forget for years _were_ plaguing him – more than he cared to think about actually.

Pythagoras frowned, unsure how to broach a subject that had been worrying at him since the previous evening.

"You were upset last night," he started, tentatively. "You did not want me to help clean the blood from your face. You said that you had never liked it when _he_ touched you," he paused. "Jason, who is _he_?" Pythagoras asked softly. "I asked if you meant Alektryon and you said no."

Jason froze. He hadn't thought that the past had bothered him that much that he had unconsciously mentioned it to his friends.

"I don't know what you mean," he said casually. "I was very drunk last night. I don't really know what I was talking about. I must have meant Alektryon and you must have misunderstood." Jason looked challengingly at Pythagoras, almost daring his friend to say that he didn't believe him.

The blonde frowned deeply.

"I did not think you were talking about Alektryon," he stated, "but I _could_ have been mistaken I suppose." He sounded dubious.

Jason smiled brightly, secretly relieved that Pythagoras had not pushed any further – had not managed to make him dredge up memories that really should have been forgotten. He looked out of the window at the bright morning, trying to ignore the blistering headache that still lurked as a result of his hangover.

"It looks like a beautiful day," he announced. "I think I might go for a walk to try to clear my head."

Pythagoras almost beamed.

"I will come with you," he said. "I need to refill my stock of medicinal herbs. Perhaps we could go out into the woods to allow me to do that. I would appreciate the company actually and it is always safer to visit the woods with a companion – they can be dangerous for one person on their own."

Jason cursed silently. He had been hoping for some time alone to try to gather his thoughts; to try to pull himself together and harden his heart so that he could stop having to avoid his friends; to try to stop caring for their sakes. Try as he might, though, he couldn't think of a reason to put Pythagoras off without sounding rude and hurting the young man's feelings – something he really did not want to do.

"Splendid," he said with a weak smile, reaching for his sandals as his friend went to fetch his cloak.


	13. Chapter 13

A/N Two chapters in two days again - I'm on a roll!

Thank you all for the lovely reviews - I'm going to be absolutely shameless now and beg for more ;-)

Please don't all hate me for this chapter - I promise it _is_ necessary

* * *

The woods outside Atlantis were surprisingly peaceful. The autumn sun slipped brightly through the trees leaving dappled patches of light and shadow on the ground. Here and there the leaves were turning to shades of gold, flaming orange and chestnut brown – although as a rule the weather was still too warm for the trees to shed their leaves. Jason breathed deeply, shedding the worries, stresses, bad memories and tension of the last few days in the beautiful surroundings and still air. Alongside him Pythagoras wandered here and there, poking at the ground periodically with a stick or stooping occasionally to examine a plant. He had persuaded Jason to come here on the pretext of restocking his supply of medicinal herbs – something they seemed to get through at an alarming rate in their house. Now that they were outside the city the blonde found himself suddenly unsure how to proceed. Usually all he had to do to get Jason to open up was to get him somewhere quiet and start gently probing until he hit the right nerve. At the moment, however, Jason was resisting all attempts to draw him out – was thoroughly keeping himself to himself with that same distracted air he had had for the last couple of days. He seemed calmer here, more relaxed and at ease, but clearly had no inclination to talk to his friend, preferring to wander aimlessly, bow clasped loosely in hand, simply enjoying the wonders of nature. Pythagoras bit his lip as he bent to examine another plant.

"Is that one of the ones you're looking for?" Jason's voice came from right beside Pythagoras' ear and made the mathematician jump, turning suddenly to find that his friend had come up beside him on silent feet and was peering over his shoulder. He would never be able to work out how Jason could move so quietly when he wanted to.

"Sorry," the dark haired young man apologised, noticing how close he had come to giving Pythagoras a heart attack.

The blonde waved away the apology as unnecessary as he went back to examining the plant.

"It is rue," he said.

"For regret," Jason said softly, almost inaudibly – clearly talking to himself.

"What do you mean?" Pythagoras asked.

Jason looked a little embarrassed.

"It's from a play that I had to study in school," he explained. "There's this girl in it that hands out some herbs and flowers to some other people and she tells them what the flowers mean – what they're for. She says that rosemary is for remembrance and rue is for regret... there's others too but they're the only ones I can remember."

Pythagoras frowned in vague confusion.

"Rue is good for sprains and strained muscles," he said, "but I have never heard of it being associated with regret before." He removed a small knife from the satchel at his hip. "I should lay in a good store," he said to himself, reaching forward to harvest the herb.

Jason looked around himself. This trip was not as bad as he had feared. If he didn't think about it he could even pretend that things were back to the way they were before – that everything was as it had always been ever since he had landed on the balcony of Hercules' house. A movement in the bushes attracted his wandering eyes and he honed in on it, concentrating. After a few more minutes a hare broke from cover. Jason quickly nocked an arrow, drew the bow and fired in one smooth movement. The arrow flew true and the hare fell. The young man smiled as he wandered over to pick up the catch. He had never been hunting before coming to Atlantis and if someone had told him that he would one day be shooting at small defenceless creatures, he would have laughed. Now though it felt completely natural – had become a sensible and appropriate way of putting food on the table when money was short (as it often was). His current job meant that at present they didn't have to worry about where the next meal was coming from but he still wasn't going to turn down free meat when it was offered to him.

"You are becoming very accomplished with that bow," Pythagoras said as Jason wandered back over to him, hare in hand.

Jason shrugged and ducked his head almost shyly, faintly embarrassed by the compliment.

"Practice," he muttered.

Pythagoras raised an eyebrow.

"I do not think so," he argued. "I have seen men practice for years and not be as accurate as you have become in just a few months."

Jason bit his lip, more embarrassed than ever.

"Isn't that one of the plants you were looking for?" he asked.

Pythagoras looked where he was pointing.

"No," he laughed, "that is more likely to kill you than cure you. That is hemlock." He looked beyond it to another patch of greenery. "That, however, is fennel – good in cooking and useful for aiding the digestion and treating complaints of the chest." He smiled. "I will teach you herb lore yet."

Jason rolled his eyes at his friend's enthusiasm but obediently trotted after the mathematician as he ventured deeper into the woods in search of his herbs.

* * *

The Temple interior was decidedly cold and the fumes given off by burning herbs – offerings to Poseidon – hung heavily in the air. Jason paused next to a pillar near the door, allowing his eyes to adjust to the dimmer light. He wasn't really sure why he had come here – didn't want to talk to the Oracle at the moment and have to listen to her increasingly vague pronouncements – but it had at least allowed him to finally give Pythagoras the slip. The mathematician had been obliging although obviously slightly disappointed and had trotted off home with the herbs he had collected and the hare Jason had caught promising to make something nice for supper. It had become increasingly clear as they had wandered through the woods that Pythagoras had wanted to talk – had wanted to discuss whatever was bothering Jason. Jason on the other hand was almost desperate _not_ to have that particular conversation and had successfully managed to fend off his friend's queries without causing any offence.

"She has been waiting for you." Jason jumped as Melas' deep resonant voice came from out of the shadows. "You have questions," the priest added gently.

"Yes... no... I'm not sure really," Jason said, caught off guard.

Melas looked hard at the young man before him. The boy looked only marginally less tormented than he had the other night and the priest was saddened to see it. He wanted to help Jason in any way he could. He clearly needed to talk to someone. Perhaps the Oracle would be able to get to the heart of whatever was troubling the lad – they certainly seemed to have a closer relationship than Melas had seen the Oracle develop with someone outside the Temple complex before. Motioning Jason with one hand, he started to usher the young man down the steps into the Oracle's chamber in much the same way as he had done the first time he had met Jason.

The Oracle knelt, as she usually did, over the crack in the rock flooring which billowed forth the vapours that inspired her visions. Her hood was pulled up to conceal her face from view as she swirled her hands through the water of her scrying bowl, muttering ritual phrases to herself. As Jason stepped down off the bottom stair, she stopped and straightened, although her back was still to him. Standing, she pushed her hood back to form a cowl over the back of her shoulders, obscuring the tattoo between her shoulder blades from view, and turned, smiling, with her hands outstretched towards Jason.

"I did not know when I would see you again," she said softly, her voice warm and happy.

"Melas said you were expecting me," Jason answered in some confusion at the apparent contradiction.

"I knew you would come soon, but not precisely when. I only see what the gods permit me to see." She took Jason's hands and sat with him on the lowest step, looking into his face searchingly. "You are troubled," she said.

"Yes," Jason acknowledged. "I don't know what to do."

"I have been troubled by visions of late," the Oracle said, looking into the distance. "There is a man. He stands in the shadows, hiding his face from the light. He is not here – is not in Atlantis – but his presence troubles you. He lurks in the back of your mind. A dark memory that you wish to be rid of."

Jason closed his eyes briefly, his breath catching in the back of his throat. Unable to speak, he nodded.

"Jason you must be wary," the Oracle continued, her fingers tracing light patterns on the back of the boy's hands. "It is not for the sake of Atlantis that I speak now but for you. Two paths lie before you. One leads to destruction, the other to salvation. You will know in your heart which one you must follow. Trust yourself. Trust your judgement. And trust your friends. They will not see you come to harm."

"My friends won't care all that much," Jason said numbly.

"You are wrong," the Oracle answered, gently cupping his face. "You have embarked on a journey of the soul and I wish with all my heart that I could aid you more. I will do whatever I can to help you, but only your actions will determine the outcome of your journey. Your friends wish to help. Trust them."

* * *

Jason really wasn't looking where he was going as he left the Oracle's chamber. He stumbled back up the steps deep in thought and walked straight into the cloaked person who was about to descend. The figure fell backwards, knocked off balance by the young man. Jason reached out quickly to stop the person from falling, an apology already forming in his lips. All he seemed to do these days was apologise to people, he reflected with a frown. He just wished that for once in his life he could actually get everything right. As he caught the figure, the hood of her cloak fell back from her face to reveal the Princess Ariadne, looking every bit as startled as he felt.

"Jason," she said a little breathlessly. "I haven't seen you for a few weeks."

Setting the Princess back on her feet, Jason reluctantly let his arm drop from around her waist. Much as he wanted to hold her (and he _really_ wanted to hold her) it would not be the most sensible course of action in a public place. Word would inevitably spread around Atlantis like wild-fire and harm would inevitably be done to Ariadne's reputation as a result. Jason was not willing to be the cause of any damage or discomfort being done to the girl.

"I looked for you at the trial the other day," Ariadne continued. "I saw your friends there but you were not with them." The was any undoubted question in her voice.

Jason tensed although Ariadne did not notice.

"No," he said. "I was working."

"Working?"

"Yes," Jason answered with a slight frown. Was it really so unbelievable that he might have a job? "I've been working down at the docks. It pays the bills, you know?"

Ariadne smiled, a little embarrassed that this was the one thing she had never actually considered when she had been thinking of reasons that Jason might not be with his friends. It made perfect sense of course, it was just that it had never really occurred to her to think that Jason and his friends would need to work to keep a roof over their heads. She knew her life was privileged; knew that there were many in the city much less fortunate than her; knew that most of the population of Atlantis had to work to put bread on the table. But she had never really thought to put Jason into that category.

"Of course," she said. "I have to admit that when I saw your friends I was a little worried that you were not with them."

Jason returned her smile, more relaxed and happy in her presence than he had been in days. At least with Ariadne he could forget about his problems for a little while.

"Yeah well, someone has to keep Hercules in wine," he said. He paused for a minute. "Your father spoke to me," he continued.

Ariadne grimaced, her beautiful face falling into a frown.

"I know," she admitted. "He has forbidden me to see you again."

Jason bit his lip.

"I should go then," he said, not wanting to in the slightest. "I don't want you to get into any trouble because of me."

Ariadne caught hold of his hand without thinking.

"No," she said. "I am more than willing to risk my father's displeasure. Besides I am here to consult the Oracle. I have managed to escape from the guards for a little while, so I think we are both safe." Her eyes twinkled with mischief as she led him behind a pillar and sat down on the floor, dragging him down with her.

"Still," Jason began, "you are a princess and I'm just me. If we were to be caught here together your reputation would be damaged. I don't think your father would be very happy."

"I do not care," responded Ariadne. "I have missed you. When we are together all seems right with the world."

Jason smiled softly, unable to deny the fact that he felt the same way.

"I am glad that I met you today," the girl continued. "There is something I need to talk to you about. I need your help." She paused.

"What is it that you need?" Jason asked earnestly.

Ariadne looked around her, checking that even the priests were at a safe distance before continuing.

"I came to visit the Oracle to ask a very specific question," she said somewhat obscurely.

Jason frowned lightly, unsure why Ariadne was telling him this.

"The man who was on trial the other day. The man who is currently awaiting execution in the cells beneath the Palace," Ariadne continued. "I believe he is innocent. I need your help to rescue him and help him to escape from the city."

Jason drew in a sharp breath, his face paling. Of all the things Ariadne could have asked of him this was one option he would never even have considered. His mind whirled. If even Ariadne believed Alektryon to be innocent then what must the rest of Atlantis be thinking? Suddenly Uskelegon's words came back to him with sickening clarity. Perhaps the whole of Atlantis believed he had deliberately led Alektryon on, had caused the whole situation and deserved to be punished instead of the merchant. His stomach clenched painfully and he struggled to breathe and to concentrate on what Ariadne was still saying.

Ariadne was so wrapped up in her own righteous indignation at Alektryon's plight that she completely failed to notice her companion's distress. If she had known the turmoil she was putting Jason through she would have been horrified.

"Pasiphae was responsible for Alektryon's arrest," Ariadne went on, "and I believe she convinced my father of his guilt. I heard her torturing the poor man with my own ears. Taking pleasure in hurting him. His so-called "confession" was a result of her torture. I have reason to believe that she has trumped up the charges against Alektryon for her own ends and I have given the poor man my word that I will help him to go free."

Jason's mind raced. He couldn't tell Ariadne of his own part in Alektryon's arrest – couldn't admit to that shame. And yet there didn't seem to be any other way to avoid helping the Princess in her scheme. He swallowed hard and tried to buy himself some time.

"What is it that you want me to do?" he asked in a strangled voice.

Ariadne frowned.

"I need you to help me to free him," she said as though it were the most obvious thing in the world.

The young man closed his eyes and swallowed the sickness that was souring his stomach, his heart pounding erratically in his chest as he continued to silently panic.

"I'm not sure I can help you," he admitted. "The man confessed under the threat of a death curse. I think that probably means he's guilty."

Ariadne yanked her hand away from Jason's as if she had been burned. Of all the possible outcomes she had envisaged of asking Jason for help, the one she had never even considered was that he might say no.

"You said I could trust you," she said, voice throbbing with emotion. "You said I could always come to you for help."

"You _can_ trust me Ariadne," Jason responded.

"Then why won't you help me?" Ariadne asked sharply. "Why won't you believe me when I say this man is innocent? He was tortured, Jason. He confessed to stop any more torture, and yet Pasiphae still carries on torturing him. She is evil. We both know that. So why can you not see that this is just some plot of hers?"

Jason did not – could not – answer.

"Do you know what they will do to Alektryon?" Ariadne continued. "Do you know how they will kill him?"

The young man at her side shook his head mutely.

"They are going to take him to the Sawing Tree," the Princess stated. "When the moon is at its highest point tomorrow he will be taken there and executed."

"The Sawing Tree?" Jason asked.

"It is not really a tree," Ariadne said. "It is a wooden frame. Alektryon will be strapped to it upside down – hanging by his ankles. They will then start to saw him in half from the groin. Men have been known to stay conscious until the blade has reached their stomach. Aside from the Brazen Bull it is our most hideous method of execution and is only ever reserved for the worst prisoners."

She fell silent, staring at her hands with her lip trembling. The method of death she had just described so graphically had always disturbed her.

Jason was shaken to the core. No matter what Alektryon had done, the young man could not believe that he deserved such a gruesome fate. Capital punishment sat badly with him anyway but to hear that Atlantis engaged in such horrific methods sickened him. He really should have expected it, he thought grimly – after all the bull court was no walk in the park and the Brazen Bull was one of the most ghastly methods of death ever invented. He could not stand by and let this happen. Especially not when it was clearly upsetting Ariadne so much. Regardless of Alektryon's guilt, Jason knew that he had to try to help the man escape no matter what his own personal feelings towards the merchant might be – and to be honest he really didn't want to think about that. He sighed and caught up Ariadne's hand again.

"Alright," he said, "I'm not really sure how you think I can help but I'll meet you here tonight and we'll try and work something out."

Ariadne smiled.

"Thank you," she said simply. She looked around herself. "I must get back to the Palace before I am missed. I will meet you here three hours after sundown."

With one last smile and squeeze of Jason's hand she stood and walked away in the direction of the secret passageway between the Palace and the Temple. Jason watched her go, his thoughts still in turmoil, suddenly unsure how he would explain what he was going to do to his friends.

* * *

Pythagoras let himself back into the house quietly and put down the bounty of his trip to the woods with a soft sigh. The hare would need skinning, gutting and preparing if it was to make them a meal tonight, and the herbs needed sorting and drying before they were put away ready for the next medical emergency to befall a member of the household. Right now though Pythagoras found he just didn't care. His heart was heavy and weary, and so he sat down at the table and let his head drop into one hand.

"Well?" Hercules' booming question came from behind him.

"I managed to collect plenty of herbs and Jason caught a hare for dinner," Pythagoras answered pensively, without raising his head, knowing that this was not the answer his old friend was looking for.

Hercules sat down at the table opposite him and looked seriously at the young genius, taking in the weary, defeated slump of the lad's shoulders. He frowned. The atmosphere in the house seemed to be growing more tense each day and was clearly affecting Pythagoras badly. Something would need to be done soon – someone would need to shake some sense into Jason – and the burly wrestler had the horrible sinking feeling that it was going to have to be him.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," he said gently to the young man on the other side of the table.

"I know," Pythagoras responded. He looked up at Hercules, his blue eyes sad. "I tried," he admitted, "but I just don't know what to do. Jason will not really talk to me. He was polite but evaded all my attempts to persuade him to tell me what is wrong. I cannot shake the feeling that he is upset about something I have done, but I do not have the faintest idea what that could be and he will not tell me," he paused. "He is isolating himself. Much as I hate to think it, it feels as though we are drifting apart – as though he is drifting away from us piece by piece."

"I know," Hercules sighed. "Although I do wonder if this is just what he does." He looked uncomfortable at the thought of what he was about to say. "I mean he turned up here all those months ago, and he never really talks about where he came from, or about the people he left behind – maybe Jason just drifts away and then leaves and never looks back."

Pythagoras pushed himself up from the table, his eyes flashing sudden fire.

"You cannot mean that, Hercules," he said hotly. "Jason is _not_ like that. You know he is not. You know _him_." He turned his back on the big man, shoulders rigid.

"But do we really know him?" Hercules argued. "What do we actually know? Jason is so secretive that we really don't know all that much about him at all."

"No," Pythagoras answered sadly. "We know very little of his past." He turned and looked firmly at his bulky friend. "But I do _not_ believe that Jason would treat us in the way you are describing. He is noble and kind and has a good heart. I may not know where he comes from, or about his upbringing and family, but I _do_ know Jason and I _do_ know that we are his friends and that he cares for us."

Hercules sighed.

"You're right," he said softly. "Jason wouldn't deliberately hurt us like that. But we _are_ losing him – he's slipping away bit by bit. He's disappearing inside himself – self-destructing."

Hercules closed his eyes against the downhearted feeling that coursed through him. Pythagoras' gentle, compassionate hand on his arm renewed his vigour and sense of purpose and he opened his eyes to look into the sad and worried face of the mathematician. Pythagoras looked almost on the verge of tears.

"Don't worry," the big man tried to reassure the mathematician. "We'll find a way to bring him back to us. Even if we have to knock the sense back into him." He frowned. "Jason needs shaking out of this mood that he's in before he does any more damage – to himself or to anyone else," he added with a significant look at Pythagoras.

Pythagoras frowned, still feeling the need to try to defend his friend in spite of his recent behaviour and the distance he seemed to be putting between them.

"I'm not sure that it is as simple as knocking sense into Jason," he said firmly. "We need to find out what it is that is troubling him. He needs to feel he can talk to us – can tell us anything."

"He needs a clip round the ear," Hercules growled, his patience waning. "I won't stand for seeing him upset you just because he's got problems that he doesn't want to talk about."

"To be fair I'm not sure he means to upset me," Pythagoras started.

"Then he needs to get his head back from wherever it's gone and start seeing what's around him," Hercules interrupted.

"I do not think that getting cross is actually going to help," argued Pythagoras.

His large companion grunted. He did not want to argue with Pythagoras – the lad was blameless. Breathing deeply, Hercules visibly forced himself to calm down.

"What's for supper?" he asked.

Pythagoras smiled weakly.

"Hare," he answered.

Hercules frowned.

"Hare is always better if it's marinaded overnight," he said with the knowledge of one who spends much of his life eating. "Leave it in a mixture of wine, herbs and spices, with maybe just a touch of garlic, and slow roast it over the fire tomorrow. Serve it with maza, onions and mashed beans. Ooh it is lovely," he smiled to himself at the thought.

"That does not help with supper tonight," Pythagoras answered primly.

Hercules smiled.

"Tell you what," he said. "Let me take care of cleaning the hare and preparing it for tomorrow and you can get dinner for tonight. There are lentils in the cupboard to make a decent soup."

Pythagoras rolled his eyes but acquiesced. Where food was concerned it was often easier to just give in to Hercules. The man was a force of nature where his stomach was concerned. As the big man took the hare, a sharp knife and a couple of bowls out onto the balcony to work, the mathematician started to prepare the lentil soup, humming softly to himself as the familiar routines relaxed him.

Letting himself back into the house quietly, Jason stopped to watch Pythagoras trotting around the kitchen, preparing the evening meal with apparent pleasure. He smiled unconsciously to himself. Pythagoras would never openly admit it for fear of being ridiculed but it was obvious that he very much enjoyed the task of cooking. A tickling around his ankles made Jason look down. Isosceles was rubbing herself up against him, weaving in and out between his legs. The dark haired young man bent to pick her up, feeling the tremors that ran through her small body with her purring. The kitten mewed insistently at him.

Pythagoras looked up from what he was doing to see his younger friend standing in the doorway, Isosceles in his arms. Although Jason was smiling he still somehow looked curiously uncertain – more unsure of himself than Pythagoras had ever seen him look – as though he doubted his welcome somehow. The mathematician's heart clenched. He had thought that Jason would know that this was his home – that he would never hover in the doorway as though he thought he would not be allowed in. Forcing his tone to be bright, he greeted his brunette friend.

"Jason. How was the Oracle?"

Jason smiled wryly.

"About as vague as ever," he responded. He looked down at the wriggling, mewling bundle in his arms. "I think she's hungry," he added with a nod towards the kitten.

Pythagoras nodded, still forcing a smile. It was ridiculous how uncomfortable and forced this conversation felt given how close he had always believed he and Jason were.

"You will find a pot of fish scraps from the market on the shelves," he said. "I covered it with a lid because I did not think we would want the smell stinking out the rest of the house." He turned back to the soup.

Supper was strained. Jason seemed more distracted and distant than ever, Hercules glowered at him, his patience obviously nearly gone, and Pythagoras tried to keep up the conversation for all three of them – desperately trying to maintain some semblance of normality and keep the peace between his friends.

After the remains of the meal had been cleared away, Jason retreated to his bedroom, biting his lip as he felt about under his bed for his breastplate. It was nearly time for him to go and meet Ariadne and he still hadn't worked out how he could tell his friends that he was going to help the girl in trying to arrange Alektryon's escape from gaol. Slowly he laced the straps at the sides that held held the armour securely in place. He'd worn it so often now that it felt natural – as though he'd worn armour all his life – although that too was something he would never have believed in his former life. Sighing under his breath he reached under the bed again and grabbed his sword, sliding into the strap until it ran diagonally across his chest, the sword itself resting comfortably on his hip. With one last check to make sure that the sword was loose enough in the scabbard to be drawn quickly, Jason turned and walked purposefully back into the kitchen.

Pythagoras frowned as he saw the way his friend was dressed. While it was normal for Jason to be armed if they were going outside Atlantis, it was rare for his to wear his sword within the city walls unless something very specific was going on. The mathematician was immediately worried.

"Why have you got that on?" he asked suspiciously

The tone of his voice caused Hercules to come back out of his own room in a hurry. He also frowned deeply when he saw Jason, eyes narrowing.

"I saw Ariadne today," Jason responded, trying to be as casual as possible.

"That's nice," Hercules grunted. "She's a pretty girl and all that. But why are you wearing armour and carrying your sword?"

"She asked me to help her with something tonight," Jason answered evasively.

"What?" Pythagoras asked, his suspicions and worries growing. He resisted the urge to scream in frustration at his friend's reticence. Sometimes getting an answer out of Jason was like pulling teeth. It appeared that tonight was one of those times.

Jason flushed slightly.

"There's a prisoner in the cells that she wants me to help her get free," he said.

"And you agreed?" Hercules growled, his voice growing louder. "Are you completely insane?"

"No," Jason answered. "Ariadne asked for my help and I'm going to help her. She hadn't got anyone else that she could turn to."

"Don't you think there might be a reason for that?" Hercules snapped. "You know how hard it was to break into the Palace before. It's likely to be a lot harder than that now. Besides which the cells are the most secure part of the Palace. How, exactly, did you plan on rescuing this person?"

Jason frowned.

"I haven't worked out the details," he admitted, "but I promised Ariadne that I would meet her at the Temple tonight."

"And have you forgotten that the King has told you in no uncertain terms to keep away from his daughter?" Hercules asked acidly, no longer even able to maintain the pretence of keeping a grip on his temper. "Are you that naïve that you think she won't be followed by guards? And what do you think will happen if you get caught? Minos will not hesitate to condemn you for treason." He pointed a meaty finger, trembling with anger, at the young man. "I will _not_ see you throw your life away like that."

Jason's frown deepened.

"I'm not going to let Ariadne even think I would let her down," he snapped hotly.

"You've done plenty of stupid things since you arrived on our doorstep, Jason – have caused plenty of trouble – but even you must see that this is madness," Hercules shouted.

Jason cringed. The thought that he had been a burden to his friends – had caused trouble for them however unwittingly – was one of his worst fears, and to hear Hercules vocalise it, even in a fit of anger, cut him to the core. He stepped back slightly, towards the outer door.

"Hercules," Pythagoras firmly admonished, trying to diffuse a situation that was already out of his control. He turned towards Jason placatingly. "Who is it that the Princess wants you to help to escape?" he asked.

Jason raised his chin defiantly.

"Alektryon," he answered calmly.

For a moment you could have heard a pin drop in the room. Then Hercules exploded.

"What?" he roared. "After all he has done you would try to free that monster?"

"If it means that he will not be killed then yes," Jason answered.

"Jason I know that you do not believe in capital punishment," Pythagoras said, "but it has proved to be a good way of deterring people from breaking the laws."

"Particularly those that have already been executed," Jason responded sarcastically.

"Don't you dare get funny with him," Hercules growled gesturing towards the wide-eyed Pythagoras. "You've done quite enough to upset him with your moods in the last few days as it is."

Jason very nearly flinched. The last thing he would ever have wanted to do was hurt Pythagoras. His friend was kind and generous and the most unselfish person Jason had ever met – it was not his fault that the brunette lad had apparently misread the relationship he thought they had and had fooled himself into believing that they were close enough to be brothers.

"I'm sorry," he started to say to Pythagoras, genuinely remorseful for any upset he had caused the young genius.

"And another thing," Hercules continued, on a roll now, "why in the name of the gods would you even care what happened to Alektryon after what he did to you?"

"He didn't _do_ anything," Jason insisted angrily. "I told you the other night that he tried but I got away... and I don't see how sawing him in half is going to make it any better!"

Pythagoras winced openly. He had hoped that he would be able to keep that little bit of information from Jason. He knew his friend would have enough problems with Alektryon being executed without knowing the gruesome details of what was to happen. Jason saw the wince and froze, knowing immediately what it meant.

"You knew," he said incredulously. "You knew what they were going to do to him."

"Jason," Pythagoras began.

"Of course we knew," Hercules cut in angrily. "The King announced it when he condemned Alektryon."

"What kind of place is this?" Jason asked. "You all happily accept a man being cut in two as punishment. It's barbaric! What kind of monsters come up with this kind of stuff?"

The resounding slap made Pythagoras jump. Jason reared back, hand clapped to his stinging and reddening cheek, face pale and eyes shocked. Hercules let his hand fall back to his side, shoulders heaving. Part of him couldn't believe he had raised a hand to one of his boys – had smacked one of them across the face no matter how well deserved – but the largest part of him was still too angry to care.

"So we're all monster's are we?" he roared.

"I didn't mean you two were monsters," Jason answered defensively, still with some anger in his own tone, "but where I come from we got rid of capital punishment years ago – long before I was around. You'll never be able to persuade me that it's right."

"If where you come from was so perfect," Hercules hissed deceptively quietly, too angry to really know what he was saying, "why don't you just go back there? If Atlantis is so awful why don't you just leave?"

Pythagoras was looking right at both of them as Hercules spoke. There was no way he could miss the look of utter devastation that flashed across Jason's face. Before he could jump in – could try to assuage some of the pain caused by Hercules' angry words – before he could try to make the big man see what he was unwittingly doing in his rage – Jason turned, yanked the door open and raced out into the night.


	14. Chapter 14

A/N Thank you all for the reviews - I _do _appreciate them

Well three chapters in three days - that is most definitely a new record for me! :-)

I hope you all like this one as much as you have liked the earlier ones... please let me know...

* * *

Jason tore through the streets of Atlantis, hot tears burning his eyes and blinding him. Angrily he dashed them away with one hand as he ran. Crying wasn't going to help him in any way. God he was so pathetic. What had he been thinking? He knew better than to let people get too close. Had learned the hard way to never let it get this far; to never let other people inside his defences. In the end everyone left; everyone let you down.

"Did you think they actually cared for you?" the voice in his head taunted him as he raced through the darkened streets. "You're unlovable. You know that. You drive everyone away in the end."

Jason bit his lip hard, trying to ignore his own thoughts. His cheek still stung where Hercules had slapped him – the big man certainly had a hard hand – but the sting almost comforted him, keeping him grounded to reality. He ran on, his mind too much in turmoil to even let him think of a destination. Where could he go anyway? He actually knew very few people in Atlantis; had very few ties to the place. Besides which he didn't think he could really stand to be near other people at the moment, almost desperately needed to isolate himself – to find a bolt hole where he could hide from the world, where he could protect himself. Perhaps it would be better to leave altogether. But then, would anywhere else be any different? He had lived in too many different "homes" to trust that anything would ever change. No matter where he went he always took himself – and that was the problem in the end; _he_ was the problem. Unbidden the tears sprang to his eyes again. He had actually believed that this time had been different; that he had finally found a place where he could set down roots. He should have known it was too good a dream to last.

"I wanted to be your friend, remember?" the voice said. "I wanted to look after you. But you couldn't even get that right. You were only ever good for one thing and you failed at that."

Jason shuddered. He knew the voice was in his head; knew that it was just his mind and his memory playing tricks on him – but it still felt real. There was no way _he_ could be in Atlantis. He had been left behind many years before – deliberately torn out of an adolescent's memory like a page being torn from a book. Suppressed and locked behind the thickest doors that Jason could manage to create in his mind. And yet his presence still lingered on – tormenting, taunting, not leaving Jason alone.

"And now here you are," the voice continued cruelly, "running away again. Where will you go _this_ _time_? Where can you ever go to escape yourself?"

The irony of the fact that he was running away from home in his mid-twenties was not lost on Jason and he would have laughed if he didn't feel quite so desperate. He had left Hercules' house with only what he stood up in – his clothes, his breastplate and his sword. Any money that he had was in a pouch under his bed. Once again he had nowhere to go, no-one to turn to. Perhaps it was better this way. Perhaps he was just meant to be alone. All the times he had been sent away before, had been rejected by a world that had never really seemed to want him, welled up inside him – the memories jumping about and getting jumbled up in his head until he could no longer even pretend that he was thinking straight. Not that he'd actually been thinking clearly for some time.

Eventually exhaustion made his frantic dash slow to a stumble. Where the hell was he? The streets looked vaguely familiar (which in his current state of mind was a distinct bonus) and he finally worked out that he was somewhere near the docks. Oh well at least it would be easy to get to work in the morning he thought grimly, laughing humourlessly to himself. It could have been worse. His feet could have carried him to just about anywhere in the city without his brain playing any part in the matter. The area of Atlantis surrounding the docks was decidedly rough but at least hopefully no-one would think to look for him here – not that he really thought anyone would actually be looking anyway. The poorly lit side street he was in looked remarkably like the one where he had run into Alektryon on that fateful night that almost felt like a lifetime ago – and all at once he was back there in the alleyway with his hands pinioned behind his back and Alektryon with his hands on his face, forcing a kiss and gloating. Jason shivered as he fought down the waves of panic that accompanied the flashback, his heart pounding inside his chest. The side street felt awfully exposed all of a sudden and his darting eyes imagined all sorts of horrors lurking in the shadows. He had to find somewhere safe – somewhere that no-one could touch him. Any ideas he had had of meeting Ariadne at the Temple had been driven completely from his head by the whirlpool of emotions within his mind. He turned on his heel and ran off into the darkness again.

The alley he found was on the very edge of the harbour. It ran off what was perhaps the roughest street in the whole of Atlantis – little more than a slum. Jason did not know that, however, and to him the untidy pile of packing crates left over from the docks themselves represented only one thing – safety. Completely beyond thought now he crawled in amongst them and curled into a ball, his back resting against an unsteady pile of boxes and his arms folded on top of his knees. And there, hidden completely from the prying eyes of the world, he dropped his face down onto his arms and sobbed his heart out.

* * *

Within seconds of Jason tearing out of the house Hercules' rage had dissolved into horror. What had he done? In his unthinking anger he had lashed out with cruel words – words that he knew would have hurt Jason far more than the slap across the face he had given the boy would have done. In the months that they had known Jason it had become apparent to the big man that the one thing the young man feared more than anything else was rejection. And without meaning to, in a fit of temper, he had rejected the lad in the worst way possible – at the worst possible moment when it was obvious that Jason was already deeply troubled and not thinking clearly. No matter how much Hercules had been provoked by the young man's behaviour (and he _had_ been provoked), he had effectively told Jason that he was no longer welcome in the house – that he should just leave. The burly wrestler's mind flashed back to the scolding he had given the boy months ago when Jason had thoughtlessly tried to run off into the night when he was still hurt and ill and not strong enough to be out of the house. The lad's reaction the next day had horrified the big man – he had clearly thought that he would be forced to leave simply because Hercules had been angry at him. It had made the big man's blood boil to realise that he must have been treated that way before – probably many times – and almost expected to be rejected. But wasn't that exactly what he had done now? Hercules turned towards Pythagoras, his horror and sorrow written in his eyes.

"I didn't mean it," he pleaded.

The young mathematician looked more furious than his older companion had ever seen him, blue eyes firing sparks across the room. He too knew where Jason's insecurities lay – although he had never discussed them with anyone – and somehow sensed that, like himself, his friend had probably seen some of the darker aspects of life – probably far too many. He knew just how much damage Hercules' words could have done and how deep that damage would run, and he was incredibly angry at the big man for losing his temper in that way and for not thinking about what he was saying.

"I don't think it's me you need to be telling," he snapped, voice full of ice.

Hercules winced. It was always awe inspiring – and slightly scary – to see Pythagoras angry, partly because it so rarely happened. The mathematician was normally too gentle and even tempered for his own good and incredibly hard to provoke. The fact that he was furious now spoke volumes.

"I know," he admitted, "and I _will_ tell Jason just as soon as we find him."

"_If_ we find him," Pythagoras corrected. "But that is not going to happen if we continue to hang around here."

Hercules nodded his assent and the two friends hurried down into the street.

The street was surprisingly empty given that it was not too long after sundown. Pythagoras sighed. Wherever he had run off to, Jason was obviously long gone already and had left no apparent trace of his passing. He had not really hoped that they would find their friend outside – Jason was far too upset to have hung around – but he had hoped that there might be someone in the street who he could ask and who might have some idea of the direction the young man had gone in. He stopped and looked up and down the street, eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Since there were no obvious clues he needed to think things through. It had worked before but Pythagoras had a horrible feeling that Jason would not make himself so easy to find this time. If he was truly upset (and if the look of devastation on his face had been anything to go by he _was_ truly upset) then it was in Jason's nature to look for somewhere to go where he could be alone. That ruled out any of the usual places Pythagoras would look – the Temple would be too crowded and the smaller fishing boats would be pulling up on the beach at this time of day. Still they had to start somewhere – even if it was just to rule out places where Jason wasn't.

"What are you waiting for?" Hercules asked testily.

"I was trying to decide where Jason might have gone," Pythagoras snapped back, still unable to forgive the big man for causing this situation with his thoughtless words. The mathematician knew that Jason had been provoking the big man with his somewhat volatile moods over the last few days and that his resolution to free Alektryon had pushed Hercules over the edge. He shook his head as he thought about it. It seemed unbelievable, even for Jason, that he should want to help free a man who had tried to harm him in such a vile way. It also seemed out of character for Jason to have told them about it so calmly. It was more in his nature to sneak out and take action if he wanted to do something that he knew his friends would try to prevent, and then to confess to them later. Pythagoras froze as a thought suddenly hit him. Jason was acting so irrationally and so far from normal that the mathematician was instantly concerned that his state of mind was far worse than he had been thinking; Jason might be far closer to self-destruction than he had thought – they needed to find him, and they needed to find him now. Some of what he was beginning to fear must have bled through into his eyes because Hercules, still looking hopefully at Pythagoras, also froze, his face paling.

"What?" the bulky man asked desperately.

Pythagoras gulped.

"We need to find Jason quickly," he said.

"You don't think..."

"I don't know," the young genius answered. "I hope not but he's been spiralling into a dark place for days."

Hercules stared at his young companion helplessly. What the boy was suggesting was unthinkable.

"Come on," Pythagoras continued, mind finally made up. "We know Jason was planning to meet Ariadne at the Temple... it at least gives us a place to start looking."

* * *

He was late. Ariadne paced up and down the main hall of the Temple restlessly. Jason was never late. Soon she would have to return to the Palace before she was missed. Ariadne could only imagine the way that Pasiphae would gloat if she were to be discovered in the company of a young man she had been expressly forbidden by her father to see. She was also under no illusions that the bulk of any punishment would fall on Jason rather than herself and she had no desire to put him at any risk. It had been a mistake to stay so long with him in the Temple earlier – Pasiphae had many spies and all it would take would be one set of prying eyes in the wrong place at the wrong time to spell utter disaster for the young man she had come to care about more than life itself. The problem was that when she was with Jason all thoughts of that nature tended to fly out of her head. No matter how dangerous the situation she felt utterly safe in his company – as though nothing and no-one could harm either one of them if they were together. In the cold light of day the Princess realised that spending any length of time with Jason opened him up to unnecessary risk and she could never ask that of him – would never want to risk his life in that way. She sighed. Wasn't that exactly what she was doing by asking him to help her free Alektryon? It was treason no matter how much she might try to justify it to herself by arguing that the merchant was simply an innocent pawn in her step-mother's machinations. She would be going directly against her father's will and was asking Jason to help her in that. If they were caught... she shuddered. While her father might eventually forgive her – might put it down to her naivety and innocent desire to give aid to the helpless – she could not see him being so forgiving with Jason. He would be condemned as easily as Alektryon had been. Ariadne paused for a moment. What was she going to do? Much as she wanted to see Pasiphae brought down, how could she ask Jason to risk his life? And yet she had promised Alektryon that she would help him. Could she go back on her word? The more she thought about it the more unsure she became. Her father had seemed so convinced of Alektryon's guilt and it was more in character for Pasiphae to simply accuse the man of treason – to claim that he was plotting against Minos – than to claim he had been attacking young men. Much as Ariadne still believed that the destruction of Alektryon would in some way benefit her step-mother, she was beginning to wonder if she should perhaps have made more enquiries before making any promises to the man – and before involving Jason. But there had been so little time for her to act.

The Princess continued to pace up and down, her agitation growing with every minute that passed with Jason still not there. Where was he? She shot a death glare at a priest who started to head in her direction. It was one of the few things that she was grateful to have learned from Pasiphae. The priest took one look at her, swallowed hard and veered off. Ariadne felt an odd little surge of triumph. Earlier, when she had first arrived, Melas had come over to enquire who she was praying for. She liked the chief priest but sometimes she found his constant nosiness about the nature of her prayers more than a little irritating. Once or twice she had been tempted to say something wicked to shock him, but then her nicer nature had taken over and she had felt compelled to tell him the truth. This time she had simply told him that she had arranged to meet a friend at the Temple and that her prayers would come later. Melas had given her a knowing look, an almost mischievous twinkle in his eyes, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that he knew exactly who she was planning to meet – a feeling that was compounded when he had offered to divert as many people away from the area where she was pacing as possible.

The sound of sandals slapping hurriedly on the stone floor made Ariadne draw back into the shadow of a pillar. Someone – or perhaps more than one someone – was running in the Temple and the Princess was suddenly filled with a sense of foreboding. Surely no-one would be looking for her yet? The Queen would not hesitate to send out guards to search for her step-daughter if she thought it would discredit Ariadne or harm her in any way. She looked up in time to see Pythagoras come charging across the floor followed by a puffing and panting Hercules lumbering after him. Ariadne sighed in relief, although it almost immediately turned into a frown of worry. His two friends were here but where was Jason? And why did they look so worried? She stepped out from behind the pillar and hurried over to them.

"Where is Jason?" she demanded. "Why isn't he with you?"

Pythagoras exchanged a concerned look with Hercules.

"He has not come here then?" he asked.

Ariadne resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It was obvious that Jason was not there since she herself was asking his friends where he was.

"No," she said as patiently as she could. "I asked him to meet me here but he has not arrived yet." She bit her lip. "He is late," she confessed. "I have been growing concerned."

"Perhaps you should have thought of that before you asked him to go through with some damn fool scheme to free a convicted prisoner from the most secure place in Atlantis," Hercules growled now that he was getting his breath back.

Ariadne blinked in surprise at the hostility in the big man's tone. She was not used to being spoken to in that manner and certainly neither of Jason's friends had ever been anything less than properly courteous and deferential towards her.

"The charges against the man were brought because he was accused by Pasiphae," she explained quickly. "I know she has tortured him – that she tortured the confession out of him. I believe him to be innocent."

"Innocent?" Hercules snorted incredulously. "If Alektryon's innocent then I've never eaten a pie! The man should have been strung up years ago for all he's got away with. And you're a very silly little girl for believing him without checking."

Ariadne bristled at the way he was speaking to her. She was still Princess of Atlantis after all. She drew herself up to her full height and looked at the angry wrestler haughtily.

"As far as I am aware the only 'proof' against Alektryon was his confession," she stated. "Even the young man he apparently attacked did not come forward at his trial – if such a person even exists that is and is not simply some scheme of Pasiphae's."

"Of course he didn't come forward," Hercules growled. "He won't even admit to himself that anything happened."

"Who?" Ariadne asked thoroughly confused.

"Jason," Hercules snapped.

Ariadne froze, her blood suddenly running icy cold.

"What are you talking about?" she demanded, clutching at the big man.

It was Pythagoras who answered her.

"The young man who Alektryon attacked was Jason," he said wearily, touching the Princess' arm comfortingly. "Alektryon was attempting to get revenge on Hercules for reasons I will not go into. Jason has told us that he got away before Alektryon could truly harm him, although I am not entirely sure how true that is."

Hercules raised an eyebrow.

"I think it's fairly obvious that it's not completely true," he rumbled, "given how moody he's been for the last few days."

"But I asked him to help me free Alektryon," Ariadne said in some distress. "I told him that I thought the man was innocent. Why would he not tell me the truth? Why didn't he tell me what happened?"

"Because he's ashamed," Hercules grunted. "He's upset and ashamed and disgusted by what happened. He won't even talk about it properly with us. I think Jason would sooner die than admit what happened to you."

"I still do not understand why Jason agreed to help free Alektryon," Ariadne said. "I mean he said no at first but then he changed his mind."

"I suspect it had a lot to do with the fact that you were the one asking him, My Lady," Pythagoras answered with a weak smile. "I sometimes think that Jason would cut off his own arm if you asked him to do it and offered to kiss it better." He paused. "Plus he does not agree with capital punishment. He said that where he comes from they do not use it. I think that once he learned the manner in which Alektryon was to be executed – which I presume you told him – there was no way he was going to stand by and do nothing. Jason will never be happy with the thought that someone has been killed because of him."

"Do you know why Jason has not turned up?" Ariadne asked. "As I said earlier, he arranged to meet me and it is not like him to be late or not turn up at all."

She did not miss the accusatory look that Pythagoras threw at Hercules, or the way the big man shuffled uncomfortably.

"We had a bit of a disagreement," Hercules muttered. "I wasn't very happy with what he was planning – that he was willing to help Alektryon escape. I may have lost my temper a bit and said a few things I didn't really mean. Jason got a bit upset and ran off. We came here looking for him."

"Do not worry, My Lady," Pythagoras said, "We will find Jason." He paused again, his eyes narrowing and face dropping into a thoughtful frown. "What puzzles me is why Pasiphae would take an interest in this matter. She has proved to be no friend of Jason's over the months he has been in Atlantis and I know of several occasions when she has actively sought to end his life. Yet from the look the King directed at us during the trial it was obvious that he had been informed that it was Jason Alektryon had attacked. I do not understand why Pasiphae would want to help Jason now."

"Perhaps it was only some part of another scheme of hers," Ariadne suggested. "Regardless of Alektryon's guilt my step-mother would never have acted against him unless it suited some purpose of her own."

"Does it really matter?" Hercules asked. "He'll be safely executed tomorrow night and we can start trying to get back to normal – once we've found Jason that is... and standing about here gossiping won't get that done."

"I'm not sure it will be as simple as that, Hercules," Pythagoras murmured, still deep in thought.

"I know," the burly wrestler sighed. "I was just trying to be hopeful."

Ignoring both the Princess and his older friend, Pythagoras stepped away from them, brow furrowed in concentration as he paced up and down, obviously wrestling with the problem that was bothering him. Suddenly he turned, a stunned look on his face.

"What is it?" Hercules asked.

"I think I might be losing my mind," Pythagoras muttered.

"Why?"

"I have been speculating recently about where Jason came from," Pythagoras said.

"What's that got to do with anything?" Hercules grumbled incredulously.

"Please bear with me," Pythagoras almost begged. "I do not believe that Jason is Greek – or at least he has not been raised Greek. The Oracle told him that he was born here in Atlantis but he knows nothing of our customs, culture, laws or gods. Yet in spite of that he has clearly been educated... and probably well educated for the land he comes from. He reads and writes as well as I do and speaks our language fluently and without the hint of a foreign accent. He has clearly not been brought up to privilege but that necklace he wears is gold, Hercules."

"Gold?" the big man rumbled in surprise.

"Yes," Pythagoras said. "I thought it was brass but I realised the other day that it never tarnishes and when I saw it against that dark green tunic I realised it had to be gold. But only the people who wear gold in Atlantis are members of the court and the very wealthy. Jason once told me that his father gave it to him and it bears the symbol of the Oracle so it must have come from Atlantis originally, which makes me wonder just who Jason's parents were." He paused. "He was told his mother died when he was born and his father left when he was five, so I don't think that Jason knows all that much about them."

"Where are you going with this?" Ariadne asked softly.

"I am getting to the point," Pythagoras said. "When I was a child on Samos I was always told stories about Atlantis. About the time before the civil war and about the old King and Pasiphae."

"I was taught that the old King was a tyrant," Ariadne interjected.

"He was no tyrant," Hercules snorted. "Aeson wasn't a bad king actually, not all that different to Minos." He paused, suddenly remembering whose daughter he was with. "Sorry," he apologised.

"Which is all very interesting but rather beside the point," Pythagoras said with some exasperation.

"What exactly is the point?" Hercules growled.

"I was told that the King and Queen had a child. A son who was little more than a baby when the civil war started," the mathematician continued.

"That's right," agreed Hercules, "but I still don't see where you're going with this."

Pythagoras rolled his eyes. Time was not on his side when they still needed to find Jason but his thoughts were racing now and he needed to get through this story as quickly as he could. Perhaps he could have waited until a more auspicious time but he was talking through the ideas that had just come to him.

"The boy was special," he went on. "Touched by the gods themselves like his mother." He paused to gather his thoughts. "This is where I get a bit hazy on what happened," he admitted. "I was always told that the boy was killed."

"Yes," Hercules interrupted again. "The rumour in the city was that he was killed accidentally by one of King Minos' soldiers who panicked and fed the body to the pigs. The Queen went to her chambers and found the blankets in the child's cradle covered in blood. Pasiphae didn't leave her rooms for days afterwards. She only came out to oversee the execution of the man who killed her child," he paused. "It's probably the only time I ever felt sorry for her," he admitted.

"Quite," Pythagoras murmured. "Now we get to the bit that I'm not sure of... Hercules, what was the boy's name?"

"It was J...," Hercules trailed off, his eyes suddenly wide. "No!" he protested.

"I think I'm missing something," Ariadne admitted.

"The child's name was Jason," Hercules said, "but you can't think that it's _our_ Jason," he added looking at Pythagoras.

"It would fit," the mathematician said. "He is the right age and has special abilities."

"You think _Jason_ is Pasiphae's son?" Ariadne asked with some horror.

"I do not know," Pythagoras admitted. "I was merely speculating."

"But she has been trying to kill him for months," Ariadne protested.

"That is the one thing I cannot explain," Pythagoras said. "I am probably wrong about this... and I am certain that it has never even occurred to Jason. It is probably for the best if we forget that this conversation ever happened." He turned to Hercules. "We should get back to looking for Jason and I am sure that the Princess needs to return to the Palace."

With a curt nod, still slightly irritated at the delay, Hercules agreed and the two friends walked briskly off towards the door of the Temple, leaving Ariadne to make her way back to the Palace through the secret passageway alone.

* * *

Jason wasn't sure how long he sat among the crates. It probably wasn't all that long in reality and after the first storm of sobbing had passed, he raised his head from his arms, drained of all energy both physically and emotionally. Suddenly a noise alerted him. He wasn't alone in the darkness. Someone was coming down the alley. Someone walking purposefully. Jason sat absolutely still, scarcely breathing in case it alerted the person to his presence, irrationally afraid. The person paused by the stack and then all of a sudden the top few crates were removed in one swift movement and Jason looked up to see an enormous dark figure looming over him. He froze, staring up at the figure like a deer caught in the open by a hunter. The figure took a step towards him.


	15. Chapter 15

A/N Once again thank you for the reviews.

I _hope_ this chapter doesn't disappoint :-)

* * *

The road back to Atlantis had been long and hard and Meriones groaned slightly to himself as he dropped down from the saddle of the gigantic horse – the only one large enough in the Atlantean stables to take his size – into the stable yard in the fine autumn evening. The day had been clear and fine, still warm for the time of year even by Atlantean standards, but the breeze was picking up now – a wind from the east that chilled the bone – and the heavy clouds forming overhead held the promise of a storm later. It was easy to forget, Meriones mused to himself, that winter was nearly upon them given the fine weather Atlantis was still experiencing in daylight hours. Still, as the days drew in the storms that often racked the coast in the winter would become more frequent and fierce. It was just as well that he had laid in that new stock of wool – the fine cloth sitting in one of his warehouses awaiting distribution to various market traders around the city. Meriones had a feeling that it would be a popular item as the winter went on. He smiled as he threw the reins of his horse to a waiting groom – his instincts usually held true where business was concerned and the wool fabric promised to make him a handsome profit. It might even pay him to have some of it made up into garments himself – there was always more profit in finished items than in raw materials. Of course it did mean that he would have to make an initial outlay to pay for the making up of the material but the extra revenue that he would accrue should make it more than worth his while. As the groom started to lead the enormous horse away, Meriones stopped him and produced a small piece of fruit from inside his robes for the animal to munch.

"It was a good ride," he told the animal softly, stroking its nose. The horse nickered at him and nuzzled in an attempt to find more treats. Meriones laughed and gave the animal one last affectionate slap on the rump as it was led back towards the stables for a well earned rest.

The business that had taken the giant out of Atlantis for the last several days had taken far longer to conclude than he had initially thought it would. It had, however, been extremely successful and Meriones, with the ever faithful Gelo in tow, hurried down to the docks to make arrangements for the shipment he would be expecting in the next few days. As a successful businessman Meriones had been a familiar and recognisable figure at the docks for many years now, and Perdikkas the harbour-master hurried over to greet him as he arrived, knowing that the merchant's shipments were usually extremely profitable both for Meriones himself and for the docks. The enormous man always paid well to have his cargo unloaded quickly and efficiently. As they made arrangements, Meriones looked around, trying to see if he could spot Jason. He was aware that having been out of town for some days he had been unable to fulfil his promise to his old friend Hercules and had not been there to help protect the young man. Actually Meriones still had some misgivings about the course of action Hercules had chosen. From what he knew of Jason, the lad was extremely independent and very stubborn, and valued his freedom and, to a certain extent, his solitude. He was unlikely to take to having a constant body-guard very well and was likely to pick up on the fact that they were either accompanying him or following him at all times fairly quickly – if he hadn't already that was. Given that Hercules was adamant that the boy should not be told what was going on, Meriones could see it ending badly for his old friend. Still Hercules was closer to Jason than he was and he felt almost obliged to follow the burly wrestler's lead when it came to the welfare of one of his boys.

Failing to spot the lad, Meriones casually enquired as to his whereabouts and was informed that it was Jason's day off. Perdikkas was clearly burning with curiosity about just how the giant knew his newest worker but wisely held his tongue. Business concluded and arrangements made, Meriones excused himself from the harbour-master's company with one last hearty clap on the man's shoulder and a light joke that he himself laughed at with his huge black beard wagging.

The dockside tavern that Meriones and Gelo found their way to was decidedly rougher than the giant's usual haunts. On any other day Meriones would have headed back to one of his more regular taverns and spent the best part of the night drinking steadily. Tonight though he was tired and aching and in need of his own bed. More than that though he needed to have a drink before he went to his bed. Since this was a necessity rather than for pleasure, the enormous man decided to have a relatively quick drink in the nearest tavern before heading for home.

As Meriones entered the room the bar went silent. The giant man knew that his sheer size tended to overawe people and the force of his personality dominated any room. He smiled expansively to let the regular patrons know that he would be no threat to them or their establishment.

Settling in to a table in the corner he pulled out his dice and shook them in his hands speculatively while he waited for Gelo to get back from the bar with two cups of mead. Mead was not his usual drink of choice but it seemed unlikely that this dive would serve anything better than dishwater in the way of wine. Even "under the table" – the extremely good quality but highly illegal wine that was imported into Atlantis and sold in some of the better taverns (and Meriones of course had absolutely _no idea_ who might be importing it) – was unlikely to have found its way here. As he sat relaxing, a conversation from a nearby table caught his ears and piqued his curiosity. The man currently spouting forth his opinions was tall, broad shouldered and in a certain light might even have been said to be good looking. He was also quite clearly a loud-mouth who had an opinion on every subject – whether he understood it or not.

"What I'm saying is that it's a crying shame. They're going to execute the man tomorrow night without a scrap of real evidence."

"I don't know so much, Uskelegon," one of the man's companions said thoughtfully. "There have been rumours about this guy for years. You must have heard them."

"But that's all they are, see?" Uskelegon said, talking down all opposition. "Unless they can produce the boy that this Alektryon's supposed to have tried it on with, you ain't going to make me believe he's guilty. As far as I can see this lad's probably some rat-faced little turd who's just trying to destroy the reputation of a fine upstanding member of the community. Probably got paid by someone with a grudge to make up the story. Like as not he led this bloke on and then went running to the guards with this cock and bull story."

The dice that Meriones had been shaking rattled down onto the table unnoticed as their owner turned towards the adjoining table and with a firm hand grabbed hold of Uskelegon's arm.

"Excuse me good sir," he said smoothly before Uskelegon could object to being grabbed. "I could not help overhearing the conversation between yourself and your fine companions. I believe I may know the man of whom you speak. May I be so bold as to enquire about the nature of your conversation?"

There was a long pause while Uskelegon attempted to work his way through Meriones' speech and to work out whether or not he'd been insulted. Finally, still a little unsure, he decided it would probably be better to assume he hadn't – particularly when he took into account the sheer size of the man holding his arm. He also recognised Meriones from his frequent visits to the docks and knew this to be a man of some importance. And here this man was asking _him_ for information, he puffed himself up self-importantly before speaking.

"Well it was like I was just saying to the lads here," he began. "There's this merchant, Alektryon. He's some kind of bigwig among the merchant's – you'll know him like as not. Anyway he went and got himself arrested four days ago. _They say_ he attacked some boy the night before – tried to do the nasty with him – although the boy's supposed to have escaped without being hurt – and that he's done it before to other boys. But like I was saying to the lads there ain't a shred of real evidence. This boy he's supposed to have attacked didn't even come forward at his trial and the only thing they've got against him is that he confessed. But they probably tortured him at the Palace, see? Forced him to confess to stuff he hadn't done. Mark my words there's more to this than meets the eye. And now they're going to execute him at the Sawing Tree tomorrow night. It's a crying shame that's what it is."

"I see," Meriones said, letting the man's arm drop, his face bleak.

During Uskelegon's rambling speech, Gelo had returned with the drinks and was now sitting quietly listening to the story with concern written on his face. Meriones' thoughts whirled. There was little doubt in his mind that the young man attacked would probably have been Jason, although he was not sure how it could have happened given Hercules' constant vigilance since they had become aware of the threat to the lad. Four days ago. That would have put it on the evening of Proerosia, the day that Meriones had had to leave the city on business. He cursed under his breath. The only comforting thought in this mess was that, if reports were to be believed, Jason had got away unhurt and that Alektryon had finally been brought to justice – although Meriones could not see from the little information he had how that had happened.

"Anyway. Like I was saying. It's a crying shame that such an upstanding member of the community has been condemned with no real evidence," Uskelegon spouted forth. "I reckon this boy – whoever he was – probably led this Alektryon on. You know what some of them are like. Take pleasure in teasing a guy and then say no at the last minute. Only I reckon it probably went a bit far this time and the lad figured that he'd get into trouble so he went running to the guards with some made up story about being attacked. Either that or the man's enemies paid the boy to make the story up. I mean you can't be in business without making a few enemies, am I right?" He elbowed Meriones familiarly in the side but quickly took his arm away when he saw the frosty way the giant looked at him. "I mean what decent merchant is going to bother with messing around with some random peasant lad when there's plenty of pornai or erômenos to be found?"

"No one ever said that Alektryon was a 'decent' merchant," Meriones rumbled dangerously.

"Yeah, but..."

"No," Meriones said sharply. "You will not find the 'goods' that Alektryon deals in in any market place. He procures services and items for rich men and women with 'unusual' predilections – and thoroughly enjoys testing out these items and services himself. He has always 'enjoyed' the company of young men – some little more than boys – and the more unwilling they are the better he likes it. He has always been protected by his wealthy patrons in the past. But make no mistake he is and has always been guilty."

He turned away from the men, leaving Uskelegon open-mouthed and grabbed his drink from Gelo. His right-hand man was watching him thoughtfully with an eyebrow raised.

"I will go to Hercules and find out was has been happening first thing in the morning," Meriones said seriously.

Gelo nodded and returned to his own drink.

It was dark when they finally left the tavern. One drink had led to two – although growing lassitude had made Meriones stop far sooner than he usually would. Stepping out into the street he bade Gelo a good night, watching as the man walked away in the direction of his home. Unlike other merchants in the city, Meriones' size had meant that he had never felt the need to employ a bodyguard. Those that did not know him well often presumed that Gelo fulfilled that function. In fact Meriones valued the man for his quick mind above anything else and trusted both him and Kerkyon with tasks that went far above those assigned to a simple body-guard.

Smiling to himself the giant merchant turned in the direction of home, only to be nearly bowled over by a hurtling figure racing down the street towards him. Meriones stepped out of the way just in time. He was about to shout after the person – to berate them for their carelessness – when the figure passed beneath the glow of a lantern and he caught a glimpse of wild dark curls and a reasonably familiar leather breastplate. He had seen Jason wearing it on several occasions. The shout died on his lips. Despite nearly careening into him the young man had been quite blatantly completely unaware of his presence and was running as though stymphalian birds were after him – although he was not being chased by anyone as far as Meriones could discern. He frowned. Something was not right. Turning on his heel he walked purposefully in the direction he had seen Jason run in.

As he looked around, Meriones frowned. He knew this place, knew it to be one of the worst streets in Atlantis and knew that there was no way Jason ought to be there. If Hercules was to be believed the boy was more than a little naïve at times – in fact his old friend had said that the young man bordered on innocent – so there was no way Meriones was willing to explain to his friend that he had chosen to leave the lad in this place on his own. He set his jaw and tried to work out where Jason had gone. Passing the end of an alleyway, a dark little opening with a pile of haphazardly stacked crates at the end, a pitiful tearing sobbing caught his sharp ears. The giant's heart contracted at that wretched sound. With purposeful steps he started down the alley as the sobbing finally died away. Stopping by the pile of crates Meriones cocked his head to listen. He could hear nothing. Logically he knew that Jason was hidden somewhere amongst the stack (though just why the young man was hiding here instead of being at home where he belonged was a problem he would work out later) but he wasn't making a sound. Not even seeming to breathe. Meriones assessed the pile and worked out roughly where he thought the lad might be. Moving quickly he grabbed the top few crates of a stack and lifted them away in one smooth movement.

Jason stared up at him, his dark eyes red rimmed and frightened, tear tracks still marking his cheeks. Meriones carefully placed the crates he was holding down alongside himself, moving slowly to try to avoid scaring the young man any further. He was worried. He had seen Jason at his weakest – injured and ill – and yet he had never seen the lad look quite so desperate – so despairing. Curled into a ball, he looked far younger than Meriones knew he must be – less like the stubborn and strong-willed man that Meriones knew and more like a confused and frightened child. Knowing that the dim light in the alley would mean that he was nothing more than a looming shadow to the young man, he quickly tried to put Jason at ease.

"Jason," he rumbled gently, dropping to his haunches, "it's only me. What are you doing out here?"

Jason stared back at him dumbly, relieved beyond measure to hear a friendly voice.

Meriones frowned as he caught the faint tremors that were running through the young man's body. His first move ought to be to get Jason home where his friends could try to sort out whatever was wrong with him.

"Let's get you home," he said firmly.

He was surprised to see Jason shrink back further towards the pile of crates, shaking his head barely perceptibly. So whatever had happened it had happened at home. Meriones wondered briefly if his old friend Hercules' explosive temper had played a part in whatever was wrong with the young man. Much as he liked Hercules he knew his failings and knew that he could lash out with sudden extreme anger when provoked. So Jason didn't want to go home then. Meriones looked up at the increasingly cloudy sky. The night was turning cold and it would not be long before the storm hit. No matter what he had to get the lad off the street and into somewhere warm and safe – could not leave him out here in the darkness. It would have to be his own home then. Decision made he turned back to Jason.

"If you won't go home then you will come and stay with me," he informed the young man firmly.

Jason seemed to consider his statement for a moment before finally acquiescing and pushing himself upright, flinching back from Meriones' outstretched hand as it was offered. The giant let his hand drop, unwilling to upset the lad any more when he was clearly already on a knife-edge. The thing that did worry and unnerve him more than a little was the fact that Jason had yet to utter a sound. He seemed unwilling – or perhaps unable – to speak and Meriones was unsure how he should respond to that. Falling into step beside the boy he carefully guided him back out of the alley – although he made sure not to touch Jason since the young man was clearly unhappy with the idea – and pointed him in the direction of Meriones' own home.

"Let's go," he said.

* * *

Ariadne had sat quietly through most of dinner, not really eating much and studying her stepmother carefully. Could it be possible that Jason – _her_ Jason – was in any way related to this woman? It hardly seemed possible. Jason was everything Pasiphae was not. Where she was cold, hard, obsessed with power, a creature of evil, reputed to practice witchcraft, he was warm, kind, slightly shy (she remembered only too well some of their first awkward conversations – and how much she had loved the fact that far from uttering the polished, practised and flowery phrases of a courtier, Jason had been more than a little tongue-tied but never less than completely honest) and apparently so uninterested in power that it was almost laughable – all he really seemed to want was to be allowed to go his own way in life with those he loved with him. Ariadne couldn't help but smile as she thought about Jason. The warmth of his hazel eyes, the earnestness in his voice, the way those dimples appeared when he smiled, the way his chest rippled when... no she really needed to stop this line of thought now. It would not help with her current problems at all.

The more she thought about it though, the more the idea of Pasiphae being Jason's mother made a hideous kind of sense. The history fit just a little too neatly and it explained so many of the mysteries about him. Then she saw it. As Pasiphae tilted her head, her eyes softened briefly and Ariadne saw without doubt the connection between mother and son. He had her eyes – although his were generally undoubtedly softer than hers. She almost gasped. How had she not noticed the similarity before? And if Jason was indeed Pasiphae's son that meant that far from being a peasant he was of the same social class as Ariadne herself. There would be no social barriers to them being together and she could not see Pasiphae objecting – she would try to use the connection between herself and Jason to try to further her own grip on power. The girl allowed her mind to drift into pleasant daydreams. It was more than she could ever have dreamed of or hoped for. She had sometimes dreamed of being the daughter of a peasant; of being free to love a boy of her own choosing; of being free to love _Jason_. Yet now it appeared that he might actually be a prince. Some would even say that he had more right to the throne than Minos himself. The thought brought her up short and brought her crashing back to reality. Her father. Minos was not a bad man – albeit he was a weak one – but he would undoubtedly see Jason as a threat. Whether the boy himself liked it or not he could potentially be used by those who were unhappy with the King's rule as a rallying point – could be used as a direct challenger to Minos. Her father would never allow that to happen. He would simply have Jason killed before he could threaten the King. Ariadne's face drained of colour as she thought of it. No, it would be far safer for Jason if no-one ever learned who he might possibly be. Her father could never know what she now suspected was almost certainly the truth. But then, how could she ever be with Jason? As long as the world continued to think he was a peasant it seemed impossible. Ariadne sighed and pushed her food around her plate as she thought – her mind a whirl of different emotions.

Pasiphae had been aware that Ariadne's eyes were on her all evening. Gods but the girl did irritate her. She was so smug; so self-assured. It had almost been worth risking everything just to wipe the insufferable look off the brat's face when she had condemned her to death in the brazen bull. The girl was intelligent and perceptive too – had the potential to become a truly worthy opponent. Not that Pasiphae ever intended to let her achieve that potential. As long as Ariadne remained largely innocent and naïve; as long as she never learned the true meaning of power and how to wield it; as long as she did not learn the subtleties of politics and tactics; then the Queen remained secure. And Ariadne could yet serve a purpose, Pasiphae mused. Although she did not at present see how such a thing could be achieved, if she could inform Minos of Jason's parentage and reconcile her husband to her son's existence without the King seeing the boy as a threat and attempting to kill him on the spot, and if she could persuade Minos that Jason would make a viable suitor for Ariadne – a son-in-law that the King could be proud of (and she was sure that with some 'moulding' Jason _could_ become a young man to be proud of) – then she could potentially secure her own place for the next generation. Jason was a political infant – would never challenge for power – and Ariadne would be so deliriously happy that she could be manipulated as Pasiphae desired. All she would have to do would be to persuade the girl that for once they were on the same side and wanted the same things. Minos adored his daughter – would do almost anything to keep her happy – if Pasiphae could convince Ariadne that she only wanted the best for Jason and that she would be happy to see him with Ariadne, then she was sure the girl could be used to manipulate her father. Still it would pay her to keep a close eye on the Princess. If anyone was likely to interfere with her plans it would be Ariadne – quite probably out of simple pique.

Pasiphae looked at her stepdaughter again. She did not know why the girl was watching her so intently this evening. It was almost as though she was looking for something in the Queen's face. Now though her eyes were turned to her plate, although Pasiphae noted that she had barely touched her dinner. Sitting between his wife and daughter, Minos was frowning. It appeared he had also noticed Ariadne's lack of appetite. Suddenly the Princess stood and made to leave the table.

"Where are you going, Ariadne?" the King said firmly, scowling at his plate even as he took another morsel. "You've hardly touched your dinner."

"I'm sorry Father," Ariadne responded quietly. "I am simply not hungry tonight."

"You are unwell?" Minos asked.

The girl attempted to smile although it was a weak and pale shadow of her usual expression.

"I am quite well," she answered. "I just have a slight headache."

"I will arrange for the physician to visit you in your rooms," the King said.

"Really Father I am well. A headache is nothing for you to worry about."

Minos looked as though he wanted to say more but Pasiphae smoothly interrupted him. It would not hurt to begin to lay some groundwork with Ariadne – to begin to attempt to convince the girl that they did not always have to be enemies.

"My Lord," she said. "Your daughter is a young woman now. She is no longer a child. There are times in a woman's life when she requires a little peace and solitude," she smiled at Ariadne as affectionately as she could manage. "A slight headache does not necessarily spell a dire illness and should Ariadne become hungry later the Palace kitchens will readily provide her with the food she requires."

Minos turned towards his wife.

"You are right as usual," he said with a wry smile. He turned back to his daughter and caught her hand. "It is just that I fear losing you above all other things. I do not know what I would do if you were taken from me. Recent events have convinced me of that more than ever. I love you more than anything in this world"

Ariadne smiled softly at her father.

"And I you," she said. "You will not lose me."

With one last affectionate pat of her father's hand, Ariadne made her way out of the room.

* * *

The storm had broken before Meriones had managed to guide Jason back to his home. Although they were both soaked to the skin by the time they entered through the front door the giant couldn't help noticing with some concern the fact that his younger companion seemed largely indifferent or unaware. As the older man bustled around, lighting lamps and candles and finding cloths to use as towels, the lad stayed dripping in the doorway, eyes largely blank and face expressionless. Meriones frowned. This was not good. Not good at all. Forcing a cheerful smile back onto his face he turned back to face the boy.

Now that he saw Jason in the light he believed he had good reason to be worried. The young man was pale – clearly exhausted and overwrought – but a clear hand print showed on one cheek – parallel lines where fingers had struck him already beginning to darken with faint bruising along his cheekbone. Although his eyes were blank they betrayed the boy's despair simply through their lack of expression. Still at least he was off the street and in a place of safety now and that had been the primary concern in the giant merchant's mind. He would never have forgiven himself if harm had come to the young man when he had the power to prevent it. Still smiling, Meriones came towards Jason slowly, as one might approach a skittish horse, not wanting to startle the lad.

"That was quite a downpour," he said cheerfully. "Come, dry yourself." He held out a towel to the young man.

Jason took the cloth from his outstretched hand and started to rub his hair and arms dry almost mechanically, although the hem of his trousers continued to drip a puddle unnoticed around his feet.

"I rarely have people staying with me," Meriones continued in the same jovial tone. "It is a shame because I enjoy being a host." He looked apologetically at Jason. "I am afraid that I do not have any dry clothes that will fit you, but there are plenty of blankets and furs in my guest room and your clothes should dry out by morning."

Jason blinked at him.

"Come," Meriones said, "My guest room is this way."

He led Jason through a doorway into a well appointed chamber larger even than the bedroom Hercules occupied in his house. If he noticed that the boy did not look around himself at all, Meriones chose to ignore it – just as he chose not to draw attention to the fact that his young companion had still not spoken.

"You must be tired," he said, knowing that the dark haired lad appeared to be exhausted despite the fact that it was still quite early. He couldn't help feeling it would do Jason good to sleep and to allow that sleep to begin to heal whatever was troubling his mind.

Jason nodded – once again barely perceptibly.

Meriones allowed his smile to grow slightly broader. At least the lad was still responding to him, even if it was by means of tiny gestures. It gave him hope that whatever had happened was repairable – Jason was at least not completely shutting down.

"Then I will leave you," he said as if the young man had spoken and was behaving completely normally. "Have a good night." Resisting the urge to clap the boy on the shoulder as he would have done under normal circumstances, Meriones turned and left the room, closing the door carefully behind him and allowing Jason the privacy to get ready for the night.

* * *

Dinner in the Palace was over and the King had long since retired to his chambers to finish some work. Pasiphae glided gracefully through a large well lit room trying to decide whether it was too early for her final nightly visit to Alektryon. Tomorrow the man would be prepared for his execution and taken to the Sawing Tree as soon as the full moon had risen to the highest point in the sky. Tonight there was still time to make him suffer – to make him regret that he's ever dared to so much as _look_ in her son's direction. It would not do to arrive too early though. The guards would still be present and the Queen did not wish for her visits to the prisoner to become general knowledge. If Minos were to hear of them he might begin to question why she was spending time with Alektryon, particularly in light of the fact that she had been the one to accuse the creature in the first place – and that could prove disastrous both for her plans for the future and for Jason. A noise behind her made Pasiphae turn. A servant, a woman of indeterminate age – although she was probably somewhere in her middle years – whose face the Queen did not immediately recognise, stood in the doorway to the chamber. Although she bowed her head submissively there was a challenge in her eyes – an obvious desire for recognition and to speak. Pasiphae mentally ran through the Palace servants in her mind, trying to place the woman. Ah, she had her now, one of the under-cooks if she was not mistaken. Pasiphae coolly raised an eyebrow.

"Yes?" she demanded, her tone imperious. Over the years she had become a master at controlling her voice – of reinforcing her superiority by her posture or with a single word. It was a trick that innocent Ariadne had yet to learn properly – although Pasiphae did have to admit that the girl was better at it for her age than almost anyone else she had met.

The servant looked terrified.

"Please, Your Majesty," she started, trailing off into frightened silence.

"Well what is it?" Pasiphae asked impatiently.

The servant gulped, then seemed to steel herself.

"Please, Your Majesty," she repeated, her voice firmer than before, "I wish to ask a boon."

"A boon?" Pasiphae scoffed. "Of me?"

"Yes, My Lady," the woman said clearly, lifting her chin proudly. "I wished to ask for a place at the front of the crowd for the execution tomorrow night."

Of all the things the woman could have been asking for this was one that the Queen did not expect. She was, however, far too well versed in the art of statecraft to allow her surprise to register in any way on the face. Instead she looked impassively at the woman, her bearing regal.

"And what makes you think I would be willing to grant such a favour?" she asked.

The servant swallowed.

"I had a son," she stated proudly. "A good boy. A handsome, strong boy. The man that is in the cells took my son, My Lady. He used Iollas against his will – took him right off the street – and then sent him back to us broken. Iollas couldn't even walk when they brought him home. He couldn't stand the shame. Just lay and stared at the wall. Eventually it grew to be too much for him and one day, while I was at work, my beautiful son took a dagger and plunged it into his stomach. He was gone by the time I returned home," she paused, briefly overcome. "He was sixteen years old, My Lady. I want to see that monster suffer as my son had to suffer – as I have had to suffer."

It was all that Pasiphae could do not to shudder. How close had her own son come to this fate? She stepped towards the woman.

"Your tale is indeed a sad one," she said briskly. "I will see what may be done on your behalf."

Motioning the woman to leave and completely ignoring the fact that the servant was now weeping her thanks as she went, the Queen returned to her thoughts.

"Compassion hardly seems in character," Ariadne's clear voice rang out.

Pasiphae turned to face her stepdaughter.

"Perhaps you do not know me as well as you believe, Ariadne," she answered calmly.

Ariadne stepped forwards into the light, her eyes searching the Queen's face.

"Oh I see you for exactly what you are," she answered wryly. "But I do wonder why you would help this woman – what you could possibly gain by it."

Pasiphae half-smiled.

"I know what it is to be a mother who has lost her child," she answered honestly.

The girl looked down at the ground, suddenly abashed.

"I am sorry," she said. "I have heard the rumours over the years but I did not believe them to be true. You have never spoken of the matter."

"You are too young to remember," Pasiphae murmured. "You would only just have been born when my son was taken from me."

The Queen turned to look pensively out of the window, silently regretting all the lost years and the necessity that meant that she could not claim her son as her own. She wondered what Jason was doing tonight. It came as something of a surprise when Ariadne came to join her. Over the last few months – over the last few years really – the girl had taken to avoiding being in her company wherever possible.

"The man who is in the cells awaiting execution," Ariadne began softly, "he attacked another young man five nights ago."

"Yes," Pasiphae acknowledged, wondering where her stepdaughter was going with this – although she did not allow it to register in her tone.

"It was Jason," the girl stated, her tone still soft. "I have been led to believe that you were responsible for bringing my father's attention to the matter. For that I thank you. It must have been difficult for you to hear about... as a mother."

Pasiphae's breath caught in her throat as she was taken completely off guard. Ariadne _knew_. How she knew the Queen could not even begin to imagine, but somehow she _knew_.

Ariadne smiled.

"He has your eyes," she observed, still in that same soft tone. "Although they are not as cold as yours."

"Ariadne," Pasiphae finally found her voice, her tone strangled, "I do not know what you are talking about."

"Yes you do," Ariadne answered, "Although I would guess that Jason does not."

"No," Pasiphae answered, her eyes softer and sadder than Ariadne had ever seen them. "He was stolen from me when he was little more than a baby. Hidden away where I might never find him and told nothing of me – only that his mother was dead." Even several weeks after Aeson had told her it was still incredibly painful to think about. "I have only known the truth myself for a few weeks." Her eyes grew hard again. "What do you intend to do with this knowledge?" she asked, her voice once again the confidant tones Ariadne was used to.

"Do not worry," the girl stated, "Jason will not learn the truth from me... and neither will my father. I would never want to put Jason in danger in that way."

Pasiphae released a breath that she hadn't even realised she was holding. Her mind raced. Perhaps it would not be so difficult to win Ariadne over after all.

"We were not always enemies, you and I," she murmured.

"No," Ariadne acknowledged, "once I thought of you as my mother," her tone hardened, "then I grew up and saw you for who you are."

"Perhaps," Pasiphae said coolly, "and perhaps you still do not fully understand me. Nevertheless I believe that we have a common cause. You do not wish to see harm come to Jason and neither do I."

"We are agreed that this secret will stay between ourselves then?" Ariadne asked. On receiving Pasiphae's answering nod she smiled. "I do have one small favour to ask."

"What favour?" Pasiphae was immediately suspicious.

"Nothing that will cause you any difficulty I assure you," Ariadne said. "It is simply that I wish to visit the man, Alektryon, before you go to see him. I will not tell anyone of your 'visits' and only ask that you ensure that his final hours in the cells are not made too comfortable."

As Ariadne walked away from her stepmother, Pasiphae's lips quirked into a smile. It would appear that little Ariadne had grown up far more than anyone had realised – and that she was neither as innocent nor as gentle as the world believed. Life had just become far more interesting.


	16. Chapter 16

A/N Thank you once again for the reviews.

If you'd like to leave me a line or two on this chapter I would be grateful

* * *

Jason lay under a thin blanket staring blankly up at the ceiling. He wasn't entirely sure how he had got here – or even where here was for that matter. He vaguely remembered a friendly voice telling him what to do and how it had just seemed easier to go along with it but everything felt disjointed somehow. The world had an unreal feeling to it right now as though he was in a twisted fairy tale.

"I keep telling you, you've only ever been good for one thing," the voice tore at him. "No-one will ever want you for any other reason."

Jason shuddered, wide eyed. He wasn't going to go there no matter what – wasn't going to think about what the voice wanted him to. He whimpered soundlessly in the dark. The storm still raged outside. Jason had never been afraid of storms – had genuinely enjoyed sitting in the window of his old home on the cliffs watching lightning striking the sea. But this was Atlantis; this was the city doomed to disappear beneath the waves; to vanish from the pages of history with barely a trace. Perhaps this was the storm that would spark the beginning of the end; perhaps this was the reason that Atlantis sank. He whimpered without sound once more. Suddenly a light shone in the doorway. A candle bobbed closer. Jason burrowed down deeper under the blanket – trying to melt into the mattress – somehow it felt as though the monsters that had haunted his childhood nights were creeping back out from under the bed to get him, even though he knew that they did not exist. There _were_ real monsters in the dark but they were unlikely to be hiding under his bed.

As Meriones let himself into his guest room, candle in hand, he briefly debated the wisdom of his current course of action. He really should be letting Jason have some privacy – letting the lad sleep. The problem was that he wasn't actually sure that the lad would have got into bed without a direct instruction to go there given how detached from reality he had seemed to be. He needed to check on the young man; needed to see that he was sleeping properly. The giant smiled softly to himself as he spotted the pile of wet clothes on the floor. They would not dry like that. Stooping he picked up the dripping tunic and trousers and draped them carefully across the top of a table. As he turned to move Jason's breastplate and sword he saw a pair of burning eyes staring fearfully at him. Meriones cursed his own thoughtlessness. Of course the boy would still be awake – and in the state that he was in Meriones' appearance in his room would alarm and confuse him even further.

"Jason," he began gently. "I just came to make sure you were alright."

Jason blinked at him. Although his eyes were fearful, his face remained blank and expressionless. Meriones silently cursed again. He needed to find out exactly what had happened while he had been away. The scared and confused child currently trying to make himself disappear in the bed in his guest room bore very little resemblance to the strong and stubborn man that Jason usually was. If he was to help the lad in any way – if he was to help him get back to normal – he needed to know the truth, and there seemed little point asking Jason himself. Even if he could answer (which from his lack of verbal responses so far Meriones seriously doubted) the boy seemed too lost, too deeply traumatised and too hurt to respond. There was little he could do but wait until morning and try to get some answers out of Hercules and Pythagoras. It seemed unlikely that Alektryon's attack alone had resulted in this reaction from Jason. It had been five days ago and surely his friends would never have let him go out at night alone if he was in this state. Meriones was in no doubt that whatever Alektryon had done had started this process but it could not have been the final straw. Plus Jason himself had clearly been unwilling to return home. That indicated that something had happened at home and probably tonight. If the bruise starting to show on the lad's cheekbone was any indicator, the giant suspected that what that something was would involve Hercules' temper – and if it did he would have a few words to say to his old friend. Surely even Hercules would have realised that even an attempted assault in such a disgusting and brutal manner would have left Jason vulnerable and damaged? The lad would have needed gentle handling and treatment, and plenty of patience – which Meriones was only too aware was sometimes in short supply where Hercules was concerned.

Thunder rolled and a sudden, loud crack of lightning illuminated the room. Jason jumped, his head whipping around towards the window. Meriones forced himself to smile reassuringly.

"You don't like storms?" he asked.

The boy did not answer but did turn his head back to face the enormous man.

"I am not fond of them either," Meriones continued as though Jason had responded. "I will fetch us both a drink and we can tell stories and sit it out together until the worst has passed."

He lit a lantern on a small table beside the bed before turning back towards the main rooms of his home and bustling out through the door. Jason lay as still as he could watching the doorway, unconsciously flinching at every unexpected noise. In a remarkably quick time Meriones was back, carefully carrying two glazed wine vessels of far finer quality than anything they used in Hercules' home. He placed one of these down on the table alongside Jason and placed his own on the floor, as he turned to fetch a small chair. Looking back towards the bed he noted with some displeasure and concern that Jason had only used the thin blanket that the bed had been made up with and had not bothered to fetch anything warmer from the stack in the corner despite the cold air that slipped around the shutters, making the room chilly. Meriones selected a blanket and a fur throw from a pile on top of a carved chest in the corner. Smiling again he moved over to the bed and smoothed the fur out over the top of Jason, deliberately ignoring the way the young man shrank back from him, before pulling the blanket around his own shoulders and settling himself comfortably into the chair.

"The nights have grown colder over the past few weeks," he stated. "At least now we will not grow cold while we talk."

If Jason registered what the giant merchant was saying he gave no real indication of it.

"That is warm spiced wine to ward off the chill," Meriones said pointing to the wine cup. "Drink it up before it gets cold."

Jason reached for the cup and drank almost mechanically. Meriones on the other hand took his time, relishing the sweet flavour as the spices tingled over his tongue, warming him inside. He sighed, contented.

"Do you know the story of Pygmalion and Galatea?" Not waiting for Jason's response, knowing now that he was unlikely to speak, Meriones continued.

"Pygmalion the sculptor came from Cyprus. He was an unusual man who did not take pleasure in the company of women. One night the Goddess Aphrodite came to him in a dream and ordered him to choose a wife, admonishing him that unless he did so she would select one for him. Pygmalion agreed but begged to be allowed to complete his greatest work first – a statue of the Goddess herself carved of the finest ivory. Once the statue was complete it was perfect and Pygmalion quickly came to fall in love with it, naming it Galatea and dressing it in the finest clothes, talking to it and bringing it presents. At the feast of Aphrodite he went the the Temple and prayed for a wife who would be like his statue. When he returned home and touched the statue he discovered that Aphrodite had granted his wish and Galatea had been brought to life. They married with Aphrodite's blessing and Galatea bore Pygmalion a son, Paphos, a lovely child for whom the city of Paphos was named."

As Meriones had told his story Jason's eyes had grown increasingly heavy, until finally, lulled by the deep resonant voice, they slipped shut altogether as the boy drifted off to sleep.

Meriones smiled. He felt little guilt for having slipped some sedative herbs into Jason's wine cup before he had brought it into the room. The lad had looked desperately tired and yet had seemed unable to find peaceful slumber on his own. This way at least the giant could ensure that the young man had a night of undisturbed dreamless sleep. With one final twitch of the fur that covered the boy, he blew out the lantern and, gathering the wine cups and the now guttering candle, sought his own bed and his own rest.

* * *

Alektryon huddled in the corner of his dark and dank prison cell awaiting the Queen's nightly visit. Ostensibly this was to be his last full night in this world. Tomorrow he would be facing the unimaginable pain of his execution – although he really wasn't sure that it could actually be any worse than the pain Pasiphae had been inflicting upon him every night and at least would mark the end of his suffering in this world. What would happen in the underworld was something Alektryon had spent a great many years trying not to think about. Briefly he cursed both Hercules and the dark haired lad that lived with the wrestler for bringing him to this – if the brat had simply played his part as so many others had done before Alektryon would never be in this situation. Much as he enjoyed it when one of his 'conquests' fought back this boy had fought too hard and had actually dared to get away. The bite the boy had given him was obviously infected and throbbed unmercifully – a pulsating, tormenting reminder of everything that had gone wrong so suddenly in Alektryon's life.

Still he had high hopes for the Princess Ariadne. She had been surprisingly easy to manipulate in the end. Had been only too willing – eager even – to believe that he was the innocent party caught in a web woven by the infamy of Queen Pasiphae. If the girl could make good on her promises – and he had no reason to believe that she wouldn't – then he would be free soon. Of course he would have to leave Atlantis and start again somewhere else. It was annoying but hardly disastrous – in fact it would be little more than a minor inconvenience. Perhaps he should go to Helios. But no, he had never been _that_ fond of the desert climate. Pathmos was reputed to be lovely at this time of year – although it's reputation stemmed at least partly from the apparent beauty and willingness to please of its women, and that held no real interest for Alektryon. Athens was too crowded. It would be too difficult for him to quickly establish a position and to gain powerful patrons in such a big city – it could be done with time and effort but Alektryon was too used to the position he had occupied in Atlantis to want to spend much time working his way back up from the ground. Likewise Corinth would be too big and the citizens were too caught up in their city improvement schemes to spend any significant time on the services Alektryon could provide. He might even be expected to take up manual labour and take part in one of the improvement schemes himself. Alektryon shuddered. No, Corinth was definitely out. Kos was a possibility or perhaps Rhodes. Cyprus was enticing – what with the association the island held with Aphrodite. The young men of Cyprus were reputed to be particularly beautiful. But it was simply too far away for this first step. No Alektryon's best move would be to get to the docks and seek passage on the first available ship bound for Kos or Rhodes. He still had some assets hidden away where even the King would not be able to find them so paying his way would not be a problem and should leave him enough money to establish himself in his new location.

Before he left, however, he would be sure to seek out Hercules' dark haired brat and get his revenge on both the boy and the wrestler. He had been unprepared for the lad's tricks last time. Now he knew what he was facing and knew exactly how to deal with the boy. Hercules' guard would be down now that he believed Alektryon to be safely in prison awaiting execution and he would be unlikely to still be following the boy around like a jealous wife. Imagine his horror when he realised what had happened. Alektryon would take the boy right out from under his nose. When he was finished he might even take a little souvenir or two with him – something to remind him of his final triumph. The boy's hair would do and perhaps an ear – or maybe even his tongue. Yes, the more he thought about it the more Alektryon liked the idea of taking the lad's tongue. Of leaving him unable to scream, unable to ever tell anyone what had happened – unable to ever say anything again. Then he would make sure that when he left the boy was no longer so pretty. Would make sure that every time anyone looked at him they would know what had happened; would know that Alektryon had got his final revenge. The thought was enticing to say the least.

The sound of soft feet approaching made Alektryon smile. So the ridiculously innocent Princess was coming to see him. The Queen's footsteps always sounded more assured, firmer somehow. Pasiphae wore her authority like a cloak and walked with the same confidence with which she apparently approached every aspect of her life. She was a woman in the prime of her life, approaching the zenith of her power and she knew it. Ariadne was far more tentative. Her footsteps betrayed the fact that she was still a young girl – still a little unsure of her position at times; still lacking the self-confidence to approach any situation with the same authority. No doubt the Princess was coming to visit the cells with news of the rescue she had arranged. Soon Alektryon would get the chance for his revenge. He carefully schooled his expression into innocent subservience, making himself appear humble and wronged, as pathetic a specimen of humanity as possible. The footsteps stopped outside the cell. Alektryon kept his face downcast waiting for the Princess to speak... and waited. Finally, unsure of what was going on, he raised his eyes from the ground and dared to risk a look at Ariadne. It was immediately apparent that something had gone horribly wrong. The girl stood at the bars of the cell looking back at him with cold fury, barely concealed hatred flaring in her eyes – in that moment her expression resembled that of her stepmother more than Alektryon would have thought possible and Ariadne would have been horrified if she had known it. Alektryon shuddered inwardly. He needed to find out what had happened – what had changed the girl's opinion of him so rapidly and had made her so furious – if he was to have any chance of getting things back on track and persuading her to still help him.

"My Lady," he began.

"You lied to me," Ariadne cut in. "You allowed me to believe that you were completely innocent of the charges that have been levelled against you. You encouraged me to commit treason and to convince others to help me in that treason for the sake of saving your own skin." Her voice was cold and hard.

"It is all lies, My Lady," Alektryon said desperately. "I _am_ completely innocent. There _was_ a slight misunderstanding I will admit. A boy who led me on. Made me believe that he was something he was not. Made me behave in a foolish manner. Manipulated and teased me before changing his mind. But I swear to you that I have not done what I am being accused of. I was betrayed by the boy and have been badly wronged as a result. The Queen..."

"Is only acting in the best interests of the people," Ariadne stated. While she knew that it was not the whole truth, for once Pasiphae's interests did run parallel to those of the populous of Atlantis. For the first time she found herself agreeing wholeheartedly with her stepmother – this man, this creature, was a monster and the sooner that all chance of him gaining access to the people of Atlantis – of gaining access to Jason – was taken away the better.

"The Queen has been misinformed," Alektryon tried. "I have been a merchant for many years – a successful merchant – and I have gained many enemies as a result. These rumours that have been spread about me were started by my enemies. The boy who accused me may even have been in their employ. You notice he did not appear at my trial. He knew that if the truth were known his own life would be at risk for his lies and his crimes."

Ariadne smiled coldly.

"And yet you confessed at your trial," she said.

"Under threat of further torture, Your Highness. I scarcely knew what I was saying. What I was doing. Even the threat of a death curse over my head did not really register with me. I was simply in too much pain; was too terrified of what would be done to me if I did not confess. You know better than anyone, My Lady, that the Queen can be very terrible when provoked. She believes that I have wronged her. If she had enquired further she would have found that the charges against me were baseless. She did not enquire because she wished to see my downfall for reasons of her own. I have in the past provided useful services to several people whom the Queen has viewed as her enemies. Because of that she sees me as an enemy too. She is wrong. I have never wished Her Majesty any harm. I bear no ill will towards her. She has simply been mislead in this matter."

Ariadne stared at the man. She had to give him credit for trying. The sheer effrontery and audacity that he was displaying was breathtaking. What angered the Princess most though was the fact that if she did not know the truth she would have believed him – _had_ believed him. This monster had come perilously close to making her betray every principle she held dear – to betraying the people of Atlantis – to betraying those she loved – simply because her hatred of Pasiphae had blinded her to the truth. Ariadne shuddered. She had been naive in the extreme to let this man's lies convince her; to allow herself to be manipulated that way through her own bitterness.

"Do you think me a fool?" she demanded.

For a moment Alektryon remained silent. The truth was that he _had_ thought the Princess to be a fool. A silly, jealous, angry little girl who could be easily manipulated and swayed with fine words. He was beginning to realise his mistake and desperately sought some way out of the predicament. Perhaps a little flattery might help.

"No, My Lady," he lisped unctuously. "You are no fool. I believe you to be a highly intelligent and perceptive woman. You must know that there was not a single scrap of real evidence provided against me. The boy who accused me..."

"The man you attacked did not accuse you of anything," Ariadne interrupted. "He has not approached anyone in authority. You were seen. Spotted by a patrol."

Alektryon winced internally. He had been seen by a patrol? That had been the one thing he had not considered. But the alleyway had been deserted and he would not have thought that he and his men would have been visible from the street. Still he supposed it was possible. Now he needed to limit the damage that this revelation had caused – if he could then there might still be a chance of obtaining the Princess' help.

"I swear to you that the situation was not how it might have appeared to the patrol," he said. "They misunderstood what they saw. The boy led me on. I left him alone as soon as I realised my mistake."

Ariadne smiled icily again.

"No," she said. "It is you who have made the mistake. You who has been foolish to try to lie to me. The man you attacked is a friend of mine. Someone I care for. I will not betray the people of Atlantis and I will not betray him. You deserve your fate. You will get no help or compassion from me." She looked to one side. "Do as you will with him."

Alektryon's mouth dropped open in shock as the Queen stepped into the light near the cell bars. She smiled as the Princess stalked away.

"I told you that I could end your suffering if you told me the truth when you were first arrested," she said. "You made your choice and now you must pay the price and face the consequences."

Alektryon's first screams echoed up the stairs towards Ariadne as she walked away, her head held high.

* * *

It was well before sunrise when Meriones awoke, feeling surprisingly refreshed. Walking purposefully out into the living area of his home he paused briefly to stick his head around the door to the guest room. Jason was still sleeping peacefully. Meriones smiled softly to himself. Given how exhausted the young man had seemed last night and how much sedative the giant merchant had slipped into his drink he didn't think that Jason would actually wake up for a few hours yet. That would give him time to slip out and complete a few tasks, including a visit to Hercules to find out exactly what had been going on over the last few days, and still get back before the lad awoke. Logically Meriones knew that Jason was a fully grown young man but the state he had been in last night the giant still didn't fancy the boy waking up alone in a strange place. On silent feet he slipped across the room and straightened the fur that was covering the boy, tucking it around the errant foot that had wriggled its way out from under the covers as Jason had moved in his sleep. Like Hercules, Meriones had never been blessed with the gift of children – had never even been married – and had never thought he wanted them. In the last few months, however, watching his old friend share the joys and sadnesses of the lives of his two boys – both utterly loveable but equally frustrating – he could see why the burly wrestler had become so attached to both in such a relatively short space of time. He was perhaps a little closer to Pythagoras than to Jason but, given how much longer he had known the young mathematician, that was perhaps only natural.

Moving back into the main room and pulling the door to the guest room gently closed behind himself, Meriones helped himself to a quick breakfast, mind already turned to the morning's tasks. There was much to be done and not a lot of time to do it in. With one final check around he grabbed his over-mantle and made his way out into the street.

At this time in the morning the streets of Atlantis were largely deserted, the market vendors only just beginning to think about setting up for the day. Here and there a cart trundled by bringing in produce freshly picked from the fields and groves that surrounded the city. The bulk of supplies would come later – in some cases much later. Passing a bakery, Meriones caught the scent of freshly baking bread, and ahead of him a butchers apprentice, young, skinny and raw boned, his eyes still heavy with sleep at this early hour, began to lay out slabs of meat, game birds and the ubiquitous sausages – the one type of meat that most of the city dwellers could afford no matter what their income and social status. A young seamstress hurried to her mistress' doors, already late and fearing the consequences, and an old man, long since past the prime of life, began to make his painfully slow way towards the shrine of Asclepius to pray for healing for some infirmity. Meriones ignored them all, hurrying onwards towards his destination, even ignoring the calls of some of the more sober drunkards who recognised him from many a night at the tavern.

Finally he reached his destination. Even the Atlantean harbour was yet to start humming with the usual hustle and bustle that characterised it. It was far enough before sunrise that most of the dock workers had yet to arrive, although Meriones was pleased to note that the harbour-master was already here. That was good. He would not have to wait for the man to arrive to have this conversation. What he was about to do was perhaps overstepping the bounds of normal behaviour but he had thought about it last night and had come to one logical conclusion. Jason was due to be working today but whatever was wrong with him – whatever was troubling him – needed to be dealt with. Meriones genuinely believed that the lad would be in no fit state to be in work. If last night was anything to go by he would probably be too withdrawn, too detached from the world around him, to even realise he should be here. It would be unfair, however, for the boy to simply not turn up for work without an explanation, so Meriones had taken it upon himself to come here and speak to Perdikkas in person.

Without going into any detail Meriones simply informed the harbour-master that Jason was unwell and would not be in work today – and probably not for at least the next few days. Perdikkas looked at him shrewdly.

"Finally broke then?" he asked a little sadly.

"I am sorry," Meriones said. "I don't think I understand."

"Jason. Surprised it wasn't sooner with all the rumours flying around here. Tried to get him to talk. Told him that we were a family, but the lad seems a bit too self-sufficient to ask for help." Perdikkas looked seriously at Meriones. "You give the lad my best. He's a good worker and I'd be sorry to lose him. Korax should be back in the next couple of days and by rights I should've let Jason go then – he was only supposed to be here until Korax got over the pox. But I reckon the lad's proved himself and I was working out how I could keep him on too – the gods know that I could use the extra pair of willing hands around here. You let him know that if he wants it there'll be a job here for him any time. And if he wants to talk, reckon he knows where to find me – Old Sinis would be happy to listen to him any time too."

"You know what happened then?" Meriones asked with some surprise, not bothering to beat around the bush.

"Reckon I do," Perdikkas said. "Overheard the rumours some of the lads – well Uskelegon anyway – were talking about the day of that Alektryon's trial. Saw Jason's face too when he heard what they was saying. The lad looked like someone had hit him. Went behind the crates to be sick too. Figured out pretty sharpish what had happened to him then, but I reckoned that if he didn't want to talk about it then I wasn't going to be the one to push him. I managed to keep him away from the others a fair bit after that – he didn't seem all that comfortable around people and I reckoned he didn't need to hear any more small minded gossip."

Meriones looked out across the harbour, his eyes distant.

"Thank you," he said.

"Like I said, you tell Jason that the job's waiting if he wants it – whenever he wants it," Perdikkas said with a final glance at Meriones before he limped off to greet his workers and to start arranging the harbour schedule for the day.

Meriones stood still for a few moments, looking out across the still, blue water, processing all he had heard from Perdikkas. He mentally shook himself and left the docks, heading towards Hercules' house and hopefully some answers. On the way he briefly popped into the tavern where he usually did business to pass some instructions on to Gelo and Kerkyon. Both his men were there already, starting their day with a swift tankard of heavily watered wine before breakfast, knowing that after any business trip Meriones was usually exceptionally busy on the first day back. They took their orders quickly and without comment, leaving Meriones free to move on again. The truth was that he could probably leave the running of his entire business "empire" to the two men. Both Gelo and Kerkyon had proved over the years that they were nearly as adept and astute in business as Meriones was himself and the giant was endlessly grateful that they were both unfailingly loyal – he shuddered to think what could happen if either of them ever decided to set up in business for themselves, although it might actually be fun to have some real competition for a change. Sometimes he worried that he was getting slow and lazy due to the lack of a real challenge business-wise.

Finally, as the sun was just beginning to climb above the horizon, Meriones made it to Hercules' door. Before ascending the stairs he paused. Although the hour was still early he had a feeling that both of the current occupants of the house would be awake and around – or at least would wake up in pretty short order. If, as he suspected, something had happened in the house last night, he had a feeling that both Hercules and Pythagoras would be worrying too much to sleep properly. For a moment he felt a brief surge of pity for his old friend – one of his oldest friends in fact – but then he remembered the traumatised state he had found Jason in last night and remembered the faint finger bruising darkening on the lad's cheekbone where he'd clearly been slapped across the face and his eyes darkened and hardened again. Whatever had gone on – whatever provocation Hercules had faced – if Meriones found out he had anything to do with those bruises he would have a few choice words to say to the man. He automatically dismissed the mere suggestion that it could have been Pythagoras who struck Jason – the lad was simply too gentle and kind for that. Taking a deep breath to calm himself the giant man made his way up the stairs and knocked on the door, albeit a lot more quietly than he would usually have done in deference to the early hour and in an attempt not to disturb Hercules' neighbours. There was a short pause, followed by a bang and muted cursing from inside the house. It sounded as though someone had walked into something or tripped over a stool. Then the door swung open.

"Where in the name of the gods have you been?" Hercules asked testily, without actually looking who was on the other side.

"Good morning to you too, old friend," Meriones rumbled, his arms folded across his chest and one eyebrow raised.

Hercules looked at him dumbly for a moment, obviously surprised that Meriones was not the person he was expecting. Then he reached out and grabbed the enormous man's arm.

"Meriones," he said as he pulled his friend into the room. "Am I glad to see you. Sorry about that. I was expecting you to be someone else."

"Jason?" Meriones said.

"How did you..." Hercules began.

"You know where he is," Pythagoras stated at the same time.

Meriones nodded.

"He is at my house," he answered.

"Your house?" Hercules asked. "I'm not trying to be rude but what in the name of the gods is he doing there?"

"Sleeping I hope," Meriones said firmly. "I found the lad last night in an alley off Limáni Street."

"Limáni Street?" Pythagoras murmured. "I would not have thought to look for him there."

"Since the lad was clearly upset and there was a storm about to break I took him back to my house and he has stayed the night."

Pythagoras sighed with relief. Then he frowned.

"It is late for Jason to still be asleep," he noted. "Usually he would be up and at work by now."

"Perhaps he would have been normally," Meriones said, "But Jason was exhausted and clearly overwrought so I put some sedative herbs into his drink." He took in Pythagoras' raised eyebrow with a cool level look of his own. "Now may I ask just what is going on?"

Hercules had the grace to look a little embarrassed, although he was clearly still more than a little irritated.

"Alektryon found him," the burly wrestler said simply.

"Yes I know that part," Meriones rumbled.

"How?" Pythagoras asked.

"I heard the rumours at a tavern last evening. It was said that Alektryon attacked a young man on the night of Proerosia. I presumed it was Jason. There were other less palatable rumours as well but I do not think that they are worth repeating." Meriones turned to look seriously at Hercules. "I am sorry I was not here, my friend."

"It wouldn't have mattered if you were," Hercules grunted. "Jason slipped away from the festival to get a bit of time to himself and Alektryon struck."

"Jason was not hurt?" Meriones asked.

"He says not," Pythagoras answered. "He says he got away. He _was_ pretty angry at Hercules for not telling him the truth though."

"You are not convinced that he has told you the truth?"

Pythagoras sighed.

"I do not know," he said simply. "He has been keeping something from me – and I am afraid of what that something might be."

"That is not all though, is it?" Meriones said. "Something happened last night."

"We had a bit of an argument, that's all," Hercules said defensively. "Whatever Jason's been telling you that's all that happened. He wanted to do something absolutely insane and I objected. I might have shouted at him a bit."

"You did a bit more than shout," Pythagoras muttered with a dark look at his older friend. He was quite clearly still more than a little cross.

"Jason must have known I didn't mean it," Hercules argued. "So whatever he's been telling you I'm sure he's exaggerating," he added turning back towards Meriones.

Meriones narrowed his eyes. There was quite clearly more to this story than met the eye and he intended to get right to the bottom of it.

"Jason has not told me anything," he said. "He has not said a word since I found him last night."

"What do you mean?" Pythagoras asked with a growing sinking suspicion.

"I mean that he has not spoken to me since I found him," Meriones said solemnly. "Since last night I have not heard him make a single sound."


	17. Chapter 17

A/N Once again I need to thank you for the lovely reviews. They really mean a lot to me and do help to keep me writing!

I hope this chapter lives up to expectations - please drop me a line or two to let me know what you think.

* * *

"What do you mean he hasn't spoken?" Hercules demanded. "This is Jason we're talking about. I know he's not exactly a chatterbox at times but he _always_ says what he thinks." He glowered slightly. "Even when we'd rather that he didn't," he added darkly.

"I mean exactly what I say, Hercules," Meriones rumbled. "The boy is not speaking. He has yet to make a sound."

"He's sulking you mean," Hercules grumbled.

"Sulking?" Meriones exploded incredulously. "Last night I found the boy sobbing his heart out, hiding behind a stack of crates in a dirty alleyway off the worst street in the city, so upset – so traumatised – by whatever was going on in his head that he scarcely seemed to know where he was and could not utter a single sound… and you think he's _sulking_? If that is what you truly believe, _old friend_, then I think you need to take a long hard look at yourself. Jason was not and is not sulking. He was beside himself. Clearly overwrought and exhausted. So much so that I had to drug him to make sure that he actually slept at all."

Hercules took an unconscious step back from the venom in Meriones' voice. Although they had been friends for more years than either one of them could count, and although Meriones was usually extremely jolly and difficult to anger, he was more than a little impressive when he was cross – his sheer size became intimidating.

Pythagoras sank onto a bench at the table, his blue eyes distressed.

"I knew for days that Jason was becoming more and more distant and distracted," he murmured sadly. "We both saw it and didn't know what to do about it. I did not realise Jason was becoming this withdrawn though." He looked at Meriones helplessly. "Things were getting better for a while but then he started avoiding me. I thought it was something I had done. That he was upset at me. But I still do not know why." The young mathematician dropped his head into his hand, clearly deeply distressed.

Meriones sat down next to the boy and placed a comforting hand on the blonde's shoulder.

"What happened?" he asked gently. "If we are to help Jason now – and I am presuming that you both want to," he said with a hard look at Hercules, "then I need to know exactly what has gone on."

Hercules dropped heavily onto the bench on the opposite side of the table to the other two.

"Of course I want to help," he grunted, more than a little hurt that Meriones would even question whether or not he did. He knew he had been snappy ever since the giant had arrived on their doorstep but he had spent the night pacing the floor with worry about their dark haired young friend, and worry was making him sharp. Last night he and Pythagoras had searched for Jason in every place they could think of without success until at last the threatening storm had driven them home in defeat. The fear that Pythagoras had displayed for their friend had raised some extremely unpleasant thoughts and concerns in the big man's mind and by the time they had returned home he had been beside himself with worry. The fact that Pythagoras clearly still hadn't forgiven him had not helped either and so Hercules had given up on trying to sleep and had simply paced the floorboards until dawn, hoping against hope that either the storm would drive Jason home or the morning would bring him back to them. It was all having a somewhat detrimental effect on his temper.

"I'm glad to hear it," Meriones stated, not giving an inch. He turned back expectantly to Pythagoras.

The mathematician swallowed hard.

"It was Proerosia," he began. Then he stopped. "No," he murmured to himself, "I need to start before that – on the day before Proerosia." He settled himself in to tell the story. "The day before Proerosia Jason came back from work earlier than usual. Hercules seemed surprised to see him and was acting oddly. When he went out Jason commented on it. He was soaking wet and eventually told me that there had been an incident at the docks."

"Incident? What sort of incident? And why am I only being told about it now?" Hercules asked.

"Not that sort of incident," Pythagoras said. "There wasn't any trouble or anything. A little girl fell into the dock – got knocked off the side by a swinging crate – and Jason dived in to pull her out."

"Of course he did," Hercules said with some exasperation. "That boy has no sense of self-preservation whatsoever. He'd try and save a satyr if it looked helpless and batted its eyelids at him."

"Hercules," Pythagoras said sharply, clearly irritated by his burly friend's interruptions. "Do you want to hear this bit of the story or not?"

"Sorry," Hercules muttered.

"Anyway," the mathematician continued, "Jason rescued the little girl. He didn't exactly go into detail about what happened – you know what he's like – but I gathered that he saved her life and his boss let him come home early. I think everyone was crowding around him a bit and….."

"And Jason doesn't like that sort of attention," Hercules finished. "It makes him uncomfortable,"

"Quite," Pythagoras agreed. "So Jason came home and got changed and relaxed for a bit."

"Do you mean fell asleep?" Hercules interrupted again.

"Hercules!" Pythagoras grumbled.

"Sorry," the big man apologised again.

"Jason may possibly have fallen asleep for a while but that is not really relevant to the story," Pythagoras continued. "When he woke up," he said, blatantly ignoring Hercules' muttered comment that he had known Jason must have been asleep, "he came to me and asked for help. He had burned his hands on some rope while trying to free the little girl," he paused, smiling reflectively. "I think that is probably the first time Jason has come to me of his own accord when he was hurt. I can remember thinking at the time that it was probably significant – showed how much more he trusts me now. Well at least how much he _did_ trust me," he added sadly.

Hercules reached out and grabbed the young man's hand comfortingly.

"Jason does trust you," he said earnestly. "He might have been a bit confused over the last few days but I know that he trusts you more than anyone."

Pythagoras smiled weakly.

"Perhaps," he acknowledged. "We had a really good time at Proerosia the next day," he said. "Jason seemed to be particularly good at the dancing."

"He certainly attracted plenty of female attention," Hercules said. "There was this pretty little thing on the corner. The way she was eyeing him up I reckon she'd have liked to teach him a dance or two." He gave a lewd little wiggle of his eyebrows.

Pythagoras sighed. If there was one thing that could always be counted on it was that Hercules would always know the location of any wine, pies and pretty girls that happened to be nearby at any given time.

"Towards the end of the festival, while Hercules was eating, Jason wandered off. I think he probably wanted some time to himself. He does like to disappear off for long solitary walks at times. I don't think he actually pays attention to where he goes half the time. Just uses the walks to think." Pythagoras sighed. "I don't know how long it was before either of us noticed he was gone," he admitted. "When we did notice, Hercules was forced to explain to me what had been going on." He levelled a long hard look at both Hercules and Meriones.

Despite the fact that both men were much older and significantly larger than the young genius they both shuffled in their seats like a pair of naughty schoolboys caught out in a piece of mischief.

"I explained that," Hercules muttered defensively.

"Yes," Pythagoras answered, "and I understand your reasons for keeping the truth from us. But surely you can see that this situation would never have happened if you had just been honest with Jason in the first place?"

"Maybe," Hercules acknowledged, "but what's done is done."

"Hmm," Pythagoras said. "Anyway, Jason came home that night in a state. He was pale and shaking and his mouth was bloody. He told me the next day that Alektryon had got two of his men to hold Jason – to pin his arms behind his back – and had ended up backhanding him across the face, splitting his lip. Jason told me that he'd bitten Alektryon and fought off the other two and had run home. I went to meet him from work the next day. I watched him when he didn't know I was there. Jason was on edge. Jumpy. Startling and flinching whenever anyone touched him or brushed against him. Then the father of the little girl who he'd saved came up to him with his daughter. Jason seemed to relax around them – although he still didn't like it when the little girl hugged him. Went rigid for a minute and then visibly forced himself to relax." He paused again as Isosceles jumped up on the table in front of him, parading back and forth to get attention, running her tail just under his nose and tickling it.

"What is that?" Meriones said, laughing in spite of the serious situation.

"_That_ has a name," Pythagoras said primly. "She is called Isosceles."

"What is an Isosceles?" Meriones asked in an aside to Hercules, since Pythagoras clearly expected him to know what it meant.

"Apparently it's a type of triangle," Hercules answered just as quietly.

Meriones raised his eyebrows.

"You named a kitten after a triangle?" he demanded.

"Jason let me name her," Pythagoras said looking a little hurt. "She's his cat."

"Since when does Jason have a kitten?" Meriones asked.

"Since the other night," Hercules responded with a sigh. "The market trader selling her was going to drown her, and you know what Jason's like with helpless, needy things. Anything that needs saving and the boy jumps right in with both feet and no thought to the consequences. I tried to tell him that it wasn't practical to keep a cat but he nearly bit my head off."

"It wasn't quite like that, Hercules," Pythagoras admonished. "Besides I think that Jason….." he trailed off suddenly.

"You think that Jason, what?" Meriones gently probed.

Pythagoras grimaced.

"I overheard something I was not supposed to hear," he admitted. "When Jason was out on the balcony the night we got Isosceles, he was sitting and talking to her. He said….." he trailed off again.

"What did he say?" Hercules asked, trying hard not to get frustrated with the mathematician.

Pythagoras glared at him.

"It feels like I am breaking a confidence by telling you," he said. He paused and then sighed. "Jason said that the kitten should not worry about being a scrawny unwanted thing because he had always been a scrawny unwanted thing too. Then he said that at least he wasn't scrawny anymore." He glared significantly at Hercules.

The big man winced both at the implication of the words and the glare.

"The boy really doesn't realise how much he is wanted and cared for does he?" Meriones asked pensively.

"No," Pythagoras agreed. "I have seen some of the darker side of life myself and, although he does not talk about it, I believe that Jason has too." He sighed. "He once told us that he was not used to people being kind to him – and I still think that he is not." The young genius shook himself. "Anyway. Things seemed to be getting better for a few days. To be slowly getting back to normal. Jason was a lot snappier with Hercules than he normally is but I think that was probably only natural. He was very angry at you," he added looking at his older friend.

"Trust me I know," Hercules said. "He was more moody than a girl at that time of the moon."

Pythagoras rolled his eyes.

"He was certainly a little…. volatile," he admitted. "There were times when he seemed almost detached – distant – usually whenever Hercules mentioned Alektryon. Jason kept saying that he didn't want to talk about it and he seemed to be slowly getting back to normal so I did not push too hard. Maybe that was a mistake."

"What happened?" Meriones asked.

"He got moody again," Hercules growled. "Started sulking about something or other and avoiding us both." He sighed suddenly. "That's not fair," he admitted. "He was losing himself, disappearing inside his own head, and neither of us knew what to do about it. I even tried to get him to come out on a job with me the night before last but he decided he'd rather go out with his new friends from the docks – got himself plastered too. I virtually had to carry him home and put him to bed. Then when he got up it was back to not wanting to be near us again."

Pythagoras frowned.

"I tried to talk to him," he said almost desperately. "I wanted to help but Jason suddenly stopped talking to me a few days ago. I do not know what I did wrong."

"You didn't do anything wrong," Hercules asserted. "He was taking his mood out on you, that is all."

"I do not think that is all," Pythagoras stated. "I do not believe that Jason would avoid me simply because he is in a bad mood. Besides," he added reflectively, "he did say some decidedly odd things over the last few days."

"Odd, how?" Meriones asked.

"Something about memories he wanted to forget and when he was drunk he said something about a man who he did not like touching him, who he said wanted to look after him and was nice to him – but he did not like it. When I asked what he meant afterwards he said he was talking about Alektryon but I did not think so at the time. Then when he came home last night he seemed more distant and distracted than ever. Of course we know now that he had seen the Princess Ariadne at the Temple."

"Most ridiculous thing I ever heard," Hercules rumbled. "She got him to agree to help free one of the prisoners from the cells beneath the Palace. He didn't have a plan or anything. It was madness. Jason's done some pretty stupid things in his time, and I thought he'd never manage to top stealing and eating the offering to Hecate and getting himself turned into a rabid dog-like creature, but I think this one actually beat it hands down."

Meriones tried to follow the rambling narrative but got distinctly lost at "rabid dog-like creature" and said so.

"I forgot it was when you were over in Athens for a couple of months doing that business," Hercules mused, preparing to launch into the tale. A stern look from Pythagoras quickly silenced him. "I'll tell you about it some other time," he said awkwardly. "So Jason was all set to go and help the dratted Princess commit treason and I simply pointed out to him that it was not a good idea."

"You practically told him that it was the most insane thing he had ever done and suggested that he had been causing trouble for us ever since he came to Atlantis – that he had been a burden to us," Pythagoras said firmly. "And you were shouting at him at the time."

Meriones raised an eyebrow and stared hard at the burly wrester. Hercules shifted a little uncomfortably in his seat. In the cold light of day what he had said in the heat of anger did not sound good.

"Jason made me cross," he said defensively. "But it was when he said that the prisoner he was going to try to free was Alektryon that my blood started to boil. I mean, after what that monster tried to do Jason wanted to try to free him just because Ariadne asked him to."

"That does seem a very odd thing for him to do," Meriones murmured, thinking hard about all he had heard so far. A distinctly unpleasant picture was beginning to build up in his mind of a deeply disturbed and troubled young man who was acting on impulse rather than rational thought. How his friends had not realised it the giant could not quite comprehend – although he supposed their close proximity to the situation might have made it difficult for them to step back and put the pieces together.

"Odd!" Hercules exclaimed, his voice starting to rise just talking about it. "It was damn well insane!"

"There was more to it than that," Pythagoras murmured. "Jason had been told of the manner of Alektryon's execution by Ariadne. I had tried to keep it from him. Where he comes from they do not have capital punishment and he was already having enough problems dealing with the idea that Alektryon would be executed without knowing the gruesome details. When he realised that we already knew he was horrified. Jason could not understand why we were not as shocked as he was. He asked what sort of monsters create these punishments and Hercules took it the wrong way – thought that he was calling us monsters. He shouted at Jason because he thought Jason had upset me and ended up slapping him across the face because he was so angry."

"So it _was_ you that hit him then," Meriones growled, his own anger growing again. "I thought as much."

"What do you mean?" Hercules asked suddenly uneasy. "If Jason isn't speaking to you how did you know that I'd smacked him?"

"Because you left bruises on his cheek," Meriones hissed. "I can see the finger marks when I look at him."

Hercules was horrified. He had been struggling with the fact that he had actually raised his hand to one of his boys all night, but hearing that he had left bruising made it suddenly ten times worse.

"Is that everything?" Meriones demanded with a dark look at his old friend.

"No," Hercules admitted. "I might have suggested that he should go back to where he came from."

Meriones was silent for a moment. A very long moment.

"You did what?" he roared. "Jason had been attacked in a brutal and disgusting manner. It doesn't really matter if it was successful or not – the intent was still there. He was vulnerable, damaged, and you chose to lose your temper with him. To hit him and to essentially tell him he was no longer welcome here."

"I was provoked," Hercules responded hotly.

Meriones completely ignored the fact that the big man had even spoken.

"By your own admission Jason is not self-confident. By your own admission he has been rejected by the people who should have cared for him whenever he made them angry. By your own admission he does not expect people to be kind. You know all this and _still_ treat him that way?"

By this time he was standing almost toe to toe with Hercules. The burly wrestler faced up to him. He knew that everything his old friend was saying was true but guilt made him defensive.

"This isn't your business," he growled. "Thank you for your concern but if you send Jason back home we can get all this sorted out fairly quickly."

"I am making it my business," Meriones hissed. "And if you think I would send that boy back here in the state he's in you've got another thing coming. Jason may have been barely responsive when I found him but the one thing that was clear was that he did not want to come home."

Hercules growled. Meriones was interfering in a purely family matter. Trying to get in between him and one of his boys. How were they supposed to sort things out if the giant merchant got in the way?

Before Hercules could respond to Meriones, Pythagoras interrupted.

"This is not helping anyone," he said pushing his way in between the two larger men. "What did you mean when you said it was clear that Jason did not want to come home?" he asked, turning to Meriones.

"The boy was barely responsive," Meriones answered, suddenly sounding supremely tired. "He was only making tiny gestures and did not seem to know where he was, even after I took him to my home. But when I suggested returning here he cringed away from me and shook his head ever so slightly. He was afraid." He looked sternly at Hercules.

"I didn't mean it," Hercules muttered guiltily. "I would never want to hurt Jason."

"What's done is done," Pythagoras said before the argument could start again. He turned to Meriones once again. "I would very much like to see Jason if I may."

Meriones inclined his head.

"Of course," he said. "I would expect nothing less. I suggest you both accompany me back to my home."

"I'll need to bring some things with me," Pythagoras said. "And Jason will need a fresh tunic."

Turning, he moved across the room to gather the things he wanted, leaving Hercules and Meriones glowering at one another in uneasy silence.

* * *

Meriones' house was very different from how Pythagoras had expected it to be. Yes it was large and well-appointed but somehow the mathematician had thought that, given the enormous man's larger than life personality, it would be much more flamboyant; much more luxurious. As it was the furnishings were comfortable but functional – plain even. It was clear that they had been carefully chosen with the relaxation and general well-being of the user in mind rather than for their looks or to show off their owner's wealth. By now though, the young mathematician couldn't really care less about his surroundings. He was almost desperate to see his dark haired friend. Everything Meriones had told them about the state he had found Jason in, both back at their home and on the way over here, worried Pythagoras and he found his levels of anxiety growing with every minute that passed. He had _known_ that something was wrong with Jason for days – known that something was troubling his friend – and now he silently berated himself for not pushing harder; for not sitting Jason down and _making_ him talk. Not that Jason was known for being completely open and honest about his feelings, however. Sometimes Pythagoras felt that it had been easier to face the Furies than it was to get Jason to talk when he didn't want to. Stubborn didn't even begin to describe his younger friend. Of course if Pythagoras had known where Jason's reticence would lead he would have forced the other young man to tell him the truth – he could be just as stubborn as Jason when he wanted to be. He looked around anxiously as he placed his bag down on the table in the centre of the room. Alongside him Meriones sighed in relief.

"This is good," the giant murmured.

At Pythagoras' questioning look he continued.

"I had hoped to return before Jason awoke," he said. "I did not want him waking up alone in a strange place. Given how exhausted he was and how much sedative I gave him I thought he would probably sleep for a few more hours when I left this morning but I was not sure that it would be the case. He should wake up soon I would guess. Although for now I am relieved that he is still asleep."

"Either that or he's still having a strop and hiding," Hercules muttered darkly.

Meriones instantly bristled and Pythagoras winced. As they had walked to Meriones' house it had become increasingly apparent that the bulky wrestler was still in denial about the realities of the situation they found themselves in. The blonde mathematician had known his burly friend for years now and knew that at present he was unable to accept or admit that he had done anything wrong because of a combination of fatigue (after all he had spent the night pacing the floorboards), worry and downright guilt. Hercules would come around, but it would be in his own time and Pythagoras was worried that that may be something that they did not have a lot of – if Jason really was as withdrawn and detached from the world around him as Meriones said (and he had no reason at all to doubt the giant's word), then it would not be an easy task to bring him back home to them. Through the years Pythagoras had long since worked out that most situations could be improved by talking things through, but if Jason remained unable to speak then his job had just become much harder – and if Hercules genuinely believed that Jason was merely pretending – sulking – then he would not be as kind as he should be and that could do even more damage. When you added to that the fact that Meriones seemed to be firmly on Jason's side and ready to leap to the lad's defence against his old friend, this could all end up getting very messy very quickly. Pythagoras sighed to himself. He needed to know the worst now. He turned to Hercules quickly, before the big man's old friend could say anything and an argument could start.

"I am sure that Meriones is right and Jason is still sleeping, Hercules," the young genius said firmly. He turned to Meriones with a confidence that he did not feel and attempted to smile. "Perhaps we should all sit down – and calm down – while we wait for Jason to get up."

Meriones smiled.

"Of course," he said. "I will check if he is awake."

Pythagoras worried gently at his lip.

"Maybe I should do it," he suggested. "Jason's more familiar with me."

Meriones looked at the gentle young man. Pythagoras was almost ready to explode with pent up worry. He quite clearly needed to see for himself that Jason was alright– at least physically – and would not be able to relax in any way until he saw the brunette lad for himself. It would also not hurt for Jason to wake up to a friendly and familiar face. Meriones might be a friend but he would not even pretend to be as close to the young man as Pythagoras was. He smiled again.

"Of course," he said again. "It is through the door over there." He gestured towards the doorway.

Pythagoras stepped over to the opening. He paused for a moment with his hand on the door, readying himself to step through and face whatever problems he found on the other side, and took a deep breath, before pushing the door open and stepping through it.

* * *

For once Jason's sleep had been relatively peaceful and undisturbed – deep and dreamless. For years now he had been plagued by random bouts of insomnia, always hitting when he least expected it, and the occasional unpleasant dream where the bad memories from his past intruded to the point where he could not ignore them. It had been even worse of late – the insomnia, the dreams – it had been getting to the point where he almost couldn't remember what it was like to have a good night's sleep. True he had slept through the night in a drunken stupor the night before last but it could hardly be called restful slumber. If nothing else Meriones' sedative herbs had achieved that – had allowed Jason a night of peace, untroubled by either nightmares or the auditory hallucinations that seemed to be taking up residence in his head in his waking hours – the voice that had taunted him cruelly from within the night before had been temporarily silenced. He sighed softly in his sleep and turned slightly.

Pythagoras stood in the doorway watching his friend sleep, unconsciously worrying at his lower lip. He often forgot just how young Jason actually was in the daytime – probably no older than Pythagoras himself. In the daytime he looked older – his face marked by stress and worry that smoothed itself away when he slept, leaving him looking much younger and far more vulnerable somehow. Briefly the mathematician wondered if this was what Hercules saw when he looked at Jason. He knew that the big man often checked on them both in the night (when he was relatively sober that was – which was not as infrequent as most people assumed) and could occasionally be found smoothing out blankets, tucking in stray limbs that had worked their way out from under the covers or sitting and talking quietly with one of the boys when they couldn't sleep (and more often than not that was Jason rather than Pythagoras), even though neither of them could be classed as children and Hercules would no doubt deny it if he was ever asked. Pythagoras smiled softly to himself at the thought, before his eyes strayed back to Jason and he frowned and bit his lip again. The difference in his friend's face was even more pronounced at the moment. Somehow, now that he was sleeping peacefully, Jason looked even younger and more vulnerable than ever. The blonde mathematician hadn't realised just how much stress and anxiety Jason had been carrying with him in the waking world until now. When had things got so bad? How had he failed to notice just how _tired_ Jason had come to look? How world weary his friend had become?

Then as Pythagoras watched Jason gave a soft sigh and rolled slightly in the bed until he was fully facing the doorway. Slowly, sleepily, his eyelids fluttered open and he looked full into the face of the blonde mathematician. Pythagoras nearly gasped. He had always been told – had always believed – that a person's eyes could tell you an awful lot about them – and Jason had always had expressive eyes. No matter how reticent he might be about a subject or about how he was feeling Pythagoras had long since learned that Jason's eyes always told the truth of the matter – told whether he was happy or sad, scared, worried or mischievous. The young genius had learned to read his friend's eyes in the same way he might read a manuscript. Now though they were empty – despairing. Those hazel eyes that usually told the story of just how their owner was feeling were utterly devoid of emotion. For a moment it took Pythagoras' breath away and he stayed frozen, watching Jason almost helplessly, inwardly wincing as he noticed the two parallel lines on his friend's cheekbone, mute testament to the force of the slap that Hercules had delivered the night before – when the big man saw that bruising he would feel more guilty than ever. Then he mentally shook himself. If he was to help Jason - if he was to find a way out of this situation – then standing around in the doorway with his mouth open was most definitely not the way to start. He attempted a smile and stepped forward.

"Are you alright?" he asked casually.

Jason looked blankly at him for a moment and then gave the minutest of nods. Pythagoras released a breath that he hadn't even realised he was holding. At least Jason was responding to him in some way – even if it was far from one of their usual interactions. He allowed his smile to become wider as he stepped even closer.

Jason couldn't quite work out why Pythagoras was here – wherever here actually was. Surely he should be back at the house with Hercules? Should be at home. Home. The thought of it made his heart clench and his stomach knot painfully. For the first time in years he had actually had a home. Not just a place to sleep at night, but an actual home with actual, real friends in it. And once again he'd screwed it all up. Had wrecked what he had found. Hercules had made it absolutely clear that Jason was no longer welcome in his house and just like that his home had been ripped away from him again. He suppressed a sob. For all he knew Pythagoras felt exactly the same way – although the young genius was surely too kind to ever say anything; to ever try to make Jason feel less than welcome. But the simple fact remained that he had made the lives of his friends more dangerous, more difficult and harder in every way just by being there. He had become a burden to them without ever meaning to be. Hercules had been right to be angry and he would not blame either one of his friends for never wanting to see him again.

Yet here was Pythagoras now, standing there and asking in his gentle way if Jason was alright. But was he really here? Perhaps he was just a figment of Jason's own imagination – just as he knew that the voice he had been hearing last night must have come from within his own head. Perhaps he was seeing things now as well as hearing them.

"Why would you even think he was really here?" It was Mrs Johnstone's voice that assaulted him this time. "Why would you even think that he cared enough to be worried about you? You were never more than a pathetic, useless, scruffy little brat. You didn't deserve to be loved as a child and you still don't deserve it now. Why don't you just stop being a coward and do what you know needs to be done?"

Jason shuddered internally. _That_ had never been something he had ever considered doing even in his darkest moments and he really didn't want to start thinking about it now. Plus Pythagoras (if it really was Pythagoras and not something he had conjured up) had asked him a question and it would not be polite to not answer it. After a moment's consideration Jason gave the tiniest of nods. He wasn't sure if that was the answer that Possible Pythagoras was looking for (and had already forgotten the question) but it was at least an answer of a sort. He thought he might have done the right thing when Maybe Pythagoras smiled even more widely and stepped forwards, clearly pleased.

As his friend drew closer, however, Jason couldn't stop himself from flinching slightly, drawing back as far as he could on the bed. It was far from a conscious reaction and his face remained blank and impassive even as his thoughts skittered here and there.

Pythagoras (and Jason was fairly sure now that it was the real Pythagoras from the little line of worry that appeared between his eyes) froze again and looked at him almost helplessly, clearly hurt by his reaction. Jason wanted to reassure him – wanted to take that sad, concerned look off Pythagoras' face (because if ever there was anyone who deserved to be happy and to live a life free of worry it was Pythagoras) – but his mouth didn't seem to be able to form any words and his body reacted of its own accord.

What was Pythagoras doing here anyway? Perhaps something had happened to Hercules. Perhaps he needed Jason's help. But why would he? Why would someone as clever and kind as Pythagoras ever need the help of someone who only ever managed to cause trouble – even if he didn't mean to.

Up close Pythagoras could almost see the turmoil that was going on in Jason's head; could see for himself that Meriones had been telling the truth; could see just how deeply withdrawn Jason actually was. He wanted to cry. Now was not the time, however. He could fall apart later when he was on his own at home. Right now what was important was to try to minimise the damage Hercules' thoughtless angry words had done; to try to bring Jason back to himself and back to them.

"It's alright," he said softly. "It's just me."

Jason still watched him and his eyes flared briefly with something that might have been sorrow. It was gone in a flash leaving his eyes desperately blank again, but for Pythagoras it was enough; it was a start; an indication that Jason was still in there somewhere, and if that was the case then with enough time and patience he might be persuaded to return to the real world – to return to his family. The mathematician steeled himself with renewed determination.

"I came to fetch you for breakfast," he said. "You must be hungry."

He was rewarded with another tiny nod. Pythagoras smiled and turned to pick up Jason's tunic and trousers from where they had been laid out to dry. Turning back towards his dark haired friend, he placed the garments on the bed, noting almost absently that the flinch Jason gave as he approached was slightly less this time.

"Get dressed," he said gently. "I will be in the next room with the others when you are ready."

With that he turned and made his way out of the room, closing the door behind him and hoping against hope that Jason would follow.


	18. Chapter 18

A/N Thank you for the reviews. I always worry that what I'm posting isn't any good and that no-one is enjoying it - so to hear that at least some people are is always a relief.

Please let me know what you think of this chapter...

* * *

Hercules sat in uneasy silence at the table in Meriones' kitchen. The giant himself was moving silently around the room gathering bowls of various foods and taking them through a doorway into an as yet unexplored room. Tension crackled in the air. Hercules had so much that he wanted to say and yet could not think of a single way to broach a conversation with one of his oldest friends without causing another argument. Deep down he knew that he was in the wrong; that he had caused untold damage to one of his boys with his words – Meriones might be angry that Hercules had struck Jason, but the burly wrestler knew that what he had said would have affected the boy more. He had seen Jason shake off full blown punches with barely a murmur and forgive the person who had struck him without a second thought (Pythagoras' brother Arcas hitting him immediately sprang to mind). The big man grimaced. That was the paradox about Jason – he could face down a Minotaur, take physical blows and still stand straight back up, walk into Tartarus and fight unimaginable monsters with his eyes wide open and his head held high for the sake of a friend, but was frighteningly easy to hurt with simple words – and Hercules knew that the words he had used in the heat of the argument had been designed to hurt Jason far more than anything else ever could. He still couldn't understand what had been going through the young man's head though. What on earth could have possessed Jason to agree to free Alektryon? It was so illogical that the bulky man found himself at a complete loss to explain it. Then there was Jason's current silence. Yes the lad could be a bit quiet at times (Hercules had always thought of it as being a bit moody – although now he wondered how accurate that actually was) but he had never retreated into complete silence before. Part of Hercules still hoped that it was simply the boy being sulky, but deep down he knew that Jason really wasn't the sort of person to sulk like this – if you upset him he was more likely to face up to you and tell you exactly what he thought. Still, the big man's own worry and tiredness and ever growing guilt simply would not let him believe that Jason was really as upset – as downright disturbed – as Meriones was suggesting. Surely this could all be fixed if they could just persuade Jason to come home where he belonged. There would be wine and explanations, hugs from Pythagoras and a good stern talking to from himself, and then everything would be back to normal. In his heart of hearts Hercules knew that the situation had gone way beyond this, but somehow he still clung to the hope that it would all turn out well and that everything would be fixed quickly and easily.

He started as the door to the guest bedroom opened and Pythagoras let himself out, carefully and quietly closing the door behind him.

"Well?" Hercules demanded, his tone much sharper than he intended it to be. He could almost feel Meriones' eyes boring into the back of his neck from where the enormous merchant stood, having just re-entered the room himself.

Pythagoras sighed, his tiredness and despondency written in every line of his body.

"Jason is just getting dressed, I hope," he said. "He should join us in a few minutes." The young man looked at Meriones. "You were right," he said. "I have never seen Jason like that… never seen him so withdrawn. He is not himself… seems to be unable to speak… and his eyes," he shuddered. "I have never seen his eyes so utterly empty."

"He's not just sulking then?" Hercules asked, still trying to clutch at the last straw in his hand.

"No Hercules," Pythagoras snapped. "Jason is most definitely _not_ 'just sulking'."

Before anyone could say anymore the door to the guest bedroom opened. Jason stepped out into the room and stopped in the doorway, hugging himself gently, face blank of any expression. Hercules took a good look at him and visibly winced at the burgeoning bruises on the lad's cheekbone. He really hadn't thought he had hit Jason that hard, but in the heat of anger he clearly hadn't known his own strength. Before he could say anything – before he could even think of offering any sort of apology both for the blow and the harsh words that had followed it (not that he thought that Jason himself was without blame in the situation but under the circumstances it ought to be down to _him_ to make the first move) – Meriones had stepped smoothly forward with a smile, a hastily gathered up bowl of fruit in his hands. Hercules glowered at his old friend's back. Just when, exactly, was Meriones going to stop interfering in what ought to be a private family matter and let Hercules start trying to get everything back on an even keel? Meriones was either oblivious to the glower or chose to ignore it as he walked purposefully towards Jason, stopping a couple of feet from the young man.

"Ah Jason," he said. "Good morning. Now we can have breakfast. You must be hungry."

Jason blinked at him but offered no other response.

"Come, we will go through to the dining room. It is a little formal but I can fit more onto the table and I have Hercules' appetite to cater for." Meriones continued as though Jason had answered his first comment. He started to gently usher the lad towards the doorway he had been going in and out of with food for the past few minutes.

Hercules frowned. As far as he could tell everything was just as Meriones and Pythagoras had described it. Jason did indeed seem to be very withdrawn – distracted even – and seemed to be almost unaware of his surroundings. The burly wrestler wasn't sure just what Meriones was hoping to achieve by ignoring the lad's obvious stupor, however. In Hercules' mind it would be a far better idea to give the lad a short, sharp shock to wake him up from wherever his mind was right now. With that thought in mind he stood up from the table and started to follow into the dining room, fully intent on giving both his old friend a piece of his mind and on forcing Jason to wake up – to start talking and interacting with them again – so that he could take his boy home where he belonged.

Meriones' dining room was distinctly different from the other rooms they had seen so far. The furniture was expensive and fashionable and the walls and windows were hung with luxurious silks. The walls themselves were plastered and highly painted in rich colours that complemented both the furniture and the drapery at the window. Meriones caught the impressed looks that both Pythagoras and Hercules were throwing around the room and shrugged nonchalantly.

"It is merely for appearances," he said as he gently guided Jason towards a chair. "I sometimes have to entertain business associates who expect a certain level of luxury. I have a suite of rooms attached to this one for those purposes. Personally I prefer to be a little more comfortable – which is why I usually eat in the kitchen when I do not have guests." He gestured at some more chairs. "Sit. Eat," he said. "We will break bread together and talk of many things."

There were more plates on the table than Pythagoras had ever seen at breakfast time and at least half of them contained dishes he could not even name. Hercules, however, rubbed his hands together with glee at the thought of eating his fill. Pythagoras rolled his eyes. No matter what the situation Hercules could at least be counted on to think of his stomach.

"You have no servants?" the young mathematician asked their host, much in the manner of a man making small talk for the sake of it.

Meriones smiled briefly.

"I have an elderly lady who comes in and cleans for me every three days," he said, "and whenever I am entertaining business associates her daughters come and cook." The enormous merchant looked at the blonde lad appraisingly. "My home is not what you expected is it?"

Pythagoras shook his head, blushing.

"No," he admitted as he helped himself to some fruit and bread. "I was expecting something more… opulent. More in keeping with your character. Perhaps with some mementoes of your various journeys."

Meriones threw back his head in laughter, his great black beard wagging.

"You will find plenty of 'mementoes' in the rooms I keep to entertain my clients," he chuckled. "They are always suitably impressed with the distances I have travelled and the variety of items I have returned with." He paused. "In fact as I spend most of my time in the tavern – which I am sure Hercules can confirm – I see little need to overdress my own private chambers. Besides, as I say, I prefer comfort to luxury."

Pythagoras nodded. He understood of course – it was just that Meriones' home did not seem to match up with what he knew of the man. To cover his confusion he started to put together a plate of breakfast for Jason, who seemed increasingly unlikely to do so for himself. Remembering his friend's love of sweet things, the mathematician made sure that there were cakes and pastries filled with nuts and dipped in a sweet syrup made of honey on the plate. He handed it to Meriones and nodded towards Jason, indicating that the giant should give the plate to the young man.

Meriones smiled easily and placed the plate in front of his young house-guest.

"The cakes are still warm," he said gently. "They taste best this way. Eat them before they get too cold."

As he had with the wine the night before, Jason started to eat almost mechanically, with no real apparent pleasure – simply doing as he was told. It was easier that way. Easier to simply obey the deep and gentle but authoritative voice that was telling him what to do. It cut through the confusion in his head – cut through the loudness of his own thoughts – and it was almost a relief to submit and not have to _think_.

"This is very good cheese," Pythagoras said almost desperately, searching for another safe topic of conversation when one of the occupants at the table was alternating between shovelling food into his mouth and glowering at his companions, and another gave all appearances of having no idea where he was.

"I purchase it from a small farm to the North of Atlantis," Meriones stated. "The farmer can only make it in small quantities. If you would like I could get some for you next time."

"This is all very well," Hercules suddenly burst in, "but it isn't why we're here. We're here because he," he jabbed one meaty finger towards Jason, "decided to completely lose what little mind he had last night, agreed to do something monumentally stupid, got into an argument with me and then went wandering off." His voice had risen as he spoke, trying desperately to get a rise out of Jason.

"Hercules," Meriones growled warningly.

"And as for the two of you," Hercules continued, gesticulating at Meriones and Pythagoras, "I'm not sure what good you think pretending that nothing's wrong and we're all just here to have a nice normal breakfast is doing, but from where I'm sitting it won't do any good at all. _He_ needs snapping out of it not mollycoddling," he waved his hand perilously close to Jason's face as he spoke. None of them missed the fact that the lad flinched back from the waving hand – almost cringing – although he never made a sound and very little emotion registered on his face.

"That is it," Meriones roared, coming to his feet with a clatter as the chair behind him fell. "I have had just about enough of your attitude. You are so busy thinking that you are the only one who cares – are the only one who knows what is right – that you cannot even see past the end of your nose. You are a guest in my home and I will not have you abusing that. What you said and did last night was unforgivable – no matter how much you feel you were provoked. I will not allow you to compound that folly by making matters worse. You have been my friend for many years and I have seen what these boys do for you – what they have given you – I will not let you throw away what you have because your own guilt is blinding you."

"And I told you that you shouldn't be interfering," Hercules shouted back, once more toe to toe with his old friend. "What happens in my home is my business and no one else's."

"But you are not in your home now," Meriones bellowed. "You are in mine….. and if you cannot behave like a reasonable human being then I am forced to ask you to leave."

"What did you say?" Hercules responded incredulously.

"Leave," Meriones reiterated. "Leave now."

While they were shouting at one another, Pythagoras had been staring at the two of them wide eyed. Then he turned towards Jason and his heart almost stopped. Far from the impassive face that his friend had been displaying before, Jason looked frightened, his eyes darting wildly here and there like a wild animal caught in a snare. His breath was coming in increasingly harsh gasps as panic gripped him. Pythagoras was on his feet and around the table before his brain could catch up. Crouching down in front of his friend he put out one hand towards Jason's shoulder, intending to try to calm him down, only to freeze as Jason flinched away, breathing ever more erratically. Turning back to the two older men, the mathematician felt an ice cold anger sweep over him. Neither of the men was helping the situation with their shouting.

"Stop it," Pythagoras' raised voice cut through the room, silencing his companions immediately. "Look at what you're doing," he demanded.

Hercules turned towards the young genius. He was horrified to see that his other young friend appeared to be right in the middle of a full blown panic attack – although the silence which clung to the lad was almost eerie.

"Get out," Meriones spat at him, even as he turned and joined Pythagoras crouching down in front of Jason.

Hercules stared at them for a minute before turning and racing back out of the house.

* * *

The remains of breakfast had been tidied away by the servants some time earlier, and yet Pasiphae remained at the table, idly watching the hustle and bustle of the Palace servants as they attempted to prepare the room for the light lunch she was to take with her husband without disturbing her. Today the midday meal would be served to just her and Minos. Ariadne was undertaking her extra duties at the Temple – something she did every week as Poseidon's servant – and would not return until early afternoon, at which point the girl would eat alone in her chambers. The servants continued their quiet movements around the room. Watching them Pasiphae was suddenly struck by the similarity of their actions to a dance – each one knew where the others would be at all times and moved in such a way as to avoid crashing into one another. One or two of the braver servants cast reproachful glances in her direction when they thought she was not looking (after all it would be a brave person indeed who challenged the Queen directly), resentful of the fact that her presence was spoiling their usual routine. Pasiphae was of course far too observant not to notice the glances, just as she had noticed the speculative looks that had been cast in her direction ever since her apparent disgrace and redemption. She really ought to start thinking about putting her foot down and stopping all the looks – she did have a reputation and a position to maintain after all and some of the looks cast at her bordered on insubordination. Yet somehow she could not bring herself to care right at this moment. Just as she could not bring herself to care that there was work she should be doing; plans she should be making; a royal household to run.

She snapped her fingers for a servant, requesting a cup of milk sweetened with honey in a tone that brooked no argument. Pasiphae had always had a love of sweet things – although she enjoyed them only in moderation – and as she waited for the drink to be brought she wondered idly if Jason had inherited that same love from her. She sighed pensively. It was simply one more item to add to the list of things she did not know about her son. For all she could watch him from a distance – for all she could try to learn as much about him as possible through observation – the simple fact was that it was not enough. Part of her – the maternal part that she had thought was long since dead and buried more than twenty years before – yearned to speak with her son – to touch him. _Her son_. Her mind still reeled from that one fact in spite of the weeks that had passed since Aeson – damn him – had revealed the secret of who Jason was. Over the last few weeks he had grown in her thoughts – rarely being far from her mind – yet since last night, since Ariadne had informed her that she knew the truth, Pasiphae had been able to think of little else. He had begun to consume her every waking moment and that simply would not do. She sighed.

"Pensiveness does not suit you."

Pasiphae straightened and turned to face the newcomer.

"Ariadne," she said smoothly, "was there something you wanted?"

The girl bit her lip. She wasn't actually sure what had made her seek her stepmother out this morning. She of all people knew only too well what sort of person Pasiphae was and had learned over the years to both hate and fear the woman in equal measure. Yet there had been something vulnerable in the Queen's expression last night when she had stood at the window talking of her lost child. Something that could almost have been mistaken for sorrow – and Ariadne had found herself feeling almost sorry for the woman. She at least had had the opportunity of getting to know Jason – had had the pleasure of his company on numerous occasions – and she was only too aware that that was something that would probably forever be denied to his own mother. Yes Pasiphae was ruthless, cruel, some would say evil – but for a moment last night Ariadne had seen the bereaved mother – the woman whose child had been essentially stolen from her – and in that moment she had felt pity. Perhaps that was what made her seek out the Queen now. The desire to try to assuage some of the hurt she had felt clinging to Pasiphae. No matter what her stepmother had done, surely she had not deserved to lose her child – and yet would Jason be the person he was if he had been left with her? Or would he simply have been turned into another Heptarian? Ariadne liked to believe that he would not but in truth she did not really know. Perhaps if Jason had been raised by his mother his moral values would be very different from what they were now – perhaps he would not be the man she had come to know and love. She swallowed hard.

"I wished to speak to you," she said in her clear voice. "I believe that there is a matter of mutual interest which you might like to discuss."

Pasiphae looked at her sharply. What game was Ariadne playing now? She had been taken by surprise last night, taken unawares by the girl's apparent political maturity, but it would not be a mistake she repeated. Pasiphae had made it a rule over the years to never make the same mistake twice (although she somewhat regretfully concluded that putting her faith and trust in her idiot nephew Heptarian was one that she certainly should not have made more than once and yet still had). Making a mistake – taking a misstep – was acceptable only if it was learned from and not repeated.

"Would you care to take a walk in the gardens with me?" Ariadne continued smoothly. "I am finding the air in here a trifle stifling today."

"Of course," Pasiphae answered, her eyes narrowing as she tried to work out her stepdaughter's purpose. With infinite grace she stood and glided across the floor to join Ariadne, studiously ignoring the relieved glances that the servants cast at one another as she left.

The Palace grounds were well tended and extensive. Few in the city would realise just how much space they actually covered. Beyond a wall the fruit trees of the Palace orchard peeked into view – although these trees were largely ornamental – the fruit for the kitchen was obtained from the best local sources. Here and there gardeners could be seen tending the well-manicured plants, skimming fallen leaves and bugs from elegant pools, raking the paths so that the feet of the royal family might endure no uneven ground as they wandered through the gardens. Pasiphae ignored them as she made her way purposefully towards one particular wall, calm and in control, with Ariadne following in her wake. If the gardeners thought it strange to see the Queen and the Princess together out of choice, they wisely said nothing, even to each other, and kept their heads bowed respectfully as they went about their work.

The part of the gardens that Pasiphae had made for was older and, although it was far from neglected, less well tended and well used than the areas nearer to the Palace. As the two women approached the wall the Queen smiled softly to herself, the familiar feeling of calm that she got whenever she came to this place washing over her once again. Producing a key from somewhere inside her dress, she unlocked a door in the wall and stepped through it, ushering Ariadne ahead of her.

Once they were inside Ariadne looked around herself and froze with a gasp. The small walled garden she found herself in was one of the most beautiful places she had ever seen. It was so far different from the tasteful grandeur of the main Palace gardens that she almost had to pinch herself to believe it was real and if she had not walked through the gardens herself to get here she would have believed that they were no longer in Atlantis – that they had come across a secluded woodland grove. The walls of the garden were lined with trees, gnarled and bent over, nodding their heads sleepily. Ariadne noticed almost absently that the varieties had clearly been chosen with some care so that they did not rise above the walls, thereby hiding the secret of this particular garden's existence – yet they were varieties that the girl did not recognise as being native to Atlantis. A stream had been diverted to run through the middle of the garden, tinkling prettily down over some carefully placed stones to simulate a waterfall and gathering in a crystal clear pool at the base, before running off to disappear beneath the ground near the one wall. The banks of the stream were lined with wild flowers and sweet smelling herbs and Ariadne felt all her worries and troubles receding within this place.

She sank onto a well-placed bench, drinking in the sights around her. Alongside her Pasiphae also sat, her face far softer and more reflective than Ariadne was used to seeing it. Looking at her now the girl could clearly see the marked similarities between the Queen and Jason and marvelled at the fact that she had never noticed them before.

"What is this place?" Ariadne asked softly.

"It is mine," Pasiphae responded simply. "It has been mine for many years. This garden was created for me when I first came to Atlantis as a young bride. I was younger than you are now. Aeson – the old King – had the garden made to give me a private place to go, away from the eyes of the Palace – and to remind me of my home, so that I would not be homesick." She looked around herself with a gentle smile. "I thought that as you wished to talk this place would give us privacy. I remember..." she broke off suddenly. When she looked back at Ariadne her face and eyes had hardened back into the woman that the girl knew. "What was it you wished to speak about?"

"Jason," Ariadne answered. "If my father were to learn of his identity he would undoubtedly see Jason as a threat and have him killed."

Pasiphae's breath caught in the back of her throat. Was this the game the girl was playing? Blackmail? An attempt to use Pasiphae's secret connection with Jason to wring concessions from her?

"You said that you would not tell your father," she said.

""And I will not," Ariadne reaffirmed. "I swear he will never learn the truth from me." She paused. "But if I can learn the truth then my father certainly can, and Jason's life will always be in danger if there is any risk of that."

"How did you learn of my connection with the boy?" Pasiphae asked, genuinely curious.

Ariadne smiled softly.

"Jason's friend Pythagoras worked it out."

"Pythagoras," the Queen mused. "That would be the clever gangly one." She paused, her eyes hardening even further. "I am presuming he has not informed Jason of his speculations?"

"No," Ariadne said firmly. "He had other considerations at the time. Besides which I do not think he actually believes it himself. He would not want to upset Jason with this."

Pasiphae breathed a silent sigh of relief. If Jason was ever to learn the truth of their kinship she somehow hoped it would be from her – that she would be granted the chance to put her own side of the story to the boy.

"What is it that you want from me, Ariadne?" she asked.

"Nothing," the girl replied. "I do not really know why I am here talking to you." Her eyes grew distant. "I love Jason," she said candidly. "I know that there are many privileges to my position, and yet I have often found myself wishing that I had been born the daughter of a simple man… free to love a simple boy of my own choosing. Now I discover that the simple boy I fell in love with is far from having the humble origins I believed. Yet still we cannot be together. As long as there is a chance my father would see Jason as a threat I cannot follow my own heart."

"And if your father were to be convinced that Jason was no threat to the throne?" Pasiphae asked smoothly, her mind already beginning to plan her next move.

Ariadne looked at her sharply.

"I will not do anything to betray my father," she began.

"And I would not ask you to," the Queen answered, "but if your father were to accept Jason both as my son and as your suitor, that would be acceptable to you would it not?"

Ariadne frowned. In her experience when Pasiphae seemed to be at her most reasonable it was time to beware. She knew her stepmother had an ulterior motive in this matter and yet she seemed to be offering the chance for Ariadne to have everything she wanted. There had to be a catch.

"And how would such a thing be achieved?" she asked, her eyes probing. For now at least it might prove sensible to play along with Pasiphae's games. To watch and wait until she saw more clearly what the woman was plotting.

"I believe that there may be ways in which your father might be… convinced," Pasiphae stated. "It would simply require us to co-operate with one another for a time," she paused. "Now tell me, why did you really seek me out today?"

"I have told you that I do not really know," Ariadne answered. "Last night, when you were speaking of the son that you lost, for a moment you looked so sad. I thought… that is… I have had the chance to get to know Jason over the past few months… and I thought that you might want to learn a little more about him."

Pasiphae's breath caught in her throat again, although she schooled her expression to remain impassive. She had dreamed for weeks of having the chance to learn more about her son and here was her hated stepdaughter offering to fulfil her desires without asking for anything in return. She was immediately suspicious.

"And what would make you think that I wonder?"

Ariadne bristled at the oh-so familiar hatefully suspicious tone.

"Clearly I was wrong," she said. "I will not trouble you again."

Pasiphae reached out and caught hold of Ariadne's wrist before the girl could stand.

"Forgive me," she said, the words nearly sticking in the back of her throat. "It is hard for me to think of what might have been if Jason had not been stolen from me. The child I remember was little more than a baby – only just learning to walk. And he was such a beautiful child. Always happy; always giggling. He would hold onto my hands as he tried to walk… or let go and stumble a few steps before falling back onto his bottom and laughing. Those months that I had with him were the most precious of my life. And now I find that he is alive and a grown man – a man I know little about. It is hard."

Ariadne watched her stepmother's face softening again. If anyone had told her just yesterday that she would be sitting here talking like this with a woman she hated so much she would have laughed incredulously. Yet now, as she had the previous night, she saw the sorrowing, bereaved mother and not the cruel, power-hungry Queen. Pity swelled in her once again.

"Well then," she said. "Let me tell you about your son."

* * *

As Jason continued to shy away from both Pythagoras and Meriones, caught in the grip of ever growing panic, curling in on himself, the blonde mathematician found his own dread growing. On the incredibly rare occasions when he had seen Jason truly panicking about something in the past he had been able to calm his friend with soft words and a gentle hand rubbing soothing patterns on his back or arm. Now though his words did not seem to break through and any attempt to touch Jason was met with increasing panic. The dark haired young man's breathing had grown erratic to the point where Pythagoras was genuinely becoming afraid, knowing that Jason would pass out from sheer lack of air before much longer.

For Jason the angry voices of his friends had sparked something much deeper, much darker. The voices in his head – the echoes of a past long buried – grew louder and more insistent until the rest of the world around him dropped away and he was right there trapped in his worst nightmare. They screamed at him; tore at him; ripped whatever shreds of self-confidence and self-belief he had away until he was left bare – raw and open. He unconsciously curled in on himself to try to protect himself from an attack that on some level he knew was not genuine but felt so very real, his breath hitching and coming in short gasps as the pain in his chest increased. His head span and he could almost feel the blood pounding through it as he fought for some measure of control, fought to control the crippling fear, and scrabbled for a purchase on reality.

"Easy lad, easy," Meriones' deep but soothing voice cut through the babble of voices screaming at him. "You are alright."

Jason clung to that deep authoritative voice like a drowning man might cling to a life raft, using it to ground himself and to pull him back towards home.

A strong and gentle hand grasped his wrist firmly, and for a second the panic flared again. Then his hand was placed on a large chest, right over the heart, and held securely in place.

"Just breathe, Jason," Meriones instructed. "Breathe with me. In and out... That's the way... Focus on me. Focus on my voice."

He could feel the giant's chest rising and falling beneath his trembling hand, taking slow deep breaths, and his own body responded automatically to the gentle and kind authority he heard in the voice, his breathing slowing until it was in rhythm with Meriones', the pain in his chest receding as the panic ebbed away. Slowly, painfully slowly, he unwound himself from the curled position and sat almost upright, although with his head dropping down towards his chest. The grip on his hand was relinquished and it fell to join his other hand dangling loosely between his knees. Jason closed his eyes, utterly spent.

Pythagoras had watched Meriones spring into action with his mouth open. How the enormous merchant had known instantly what to do to ease Jason out of the panic attack he could not even comprehend, but he was eternally grateful that he had. As soon as it seemed clear that Jason's panic was diminishing, the young genius slipped out of the room and grabbed some items from his bag, returning with a cup of warm liquid in his hands.

"It is an infusion of hyperikon and chamomile," he said at Meriones' questioning look. "It should at least calm him."

Meriones nodded and took the cup from him. He put it down on the table in front of Jason. The lad looked up although his eyes remained distant and emotionless and his face had returned to its former impassivity.

"Drink that, Jason," he said softly. "It will make you feel better."

Jason took the cup without thinking. As he raised it to his lips the smell it gave off assaulted his senses and brought back a whole host of memories. Chamomile. He'd had a foster mother once, Chloe, who had loved chamomile tea and the smell still reminded him of her. He'd lived with Chloe and her husband Alexander for nearly three years – the longest he had ever stayed in one place. What had started as a short term emergency placement after Miss Roberts had taken him away from Mrs Johnstone had become a long term one by anyone's standards. Jason could remember being outside the door as Miss Roberts had told Chloe his history and explained that he didn't really like to speak all that much (had retreated into complete silence towards the end of his time with Mrs Johnstone and hadn't yet found a reason to speak again). Chloe had laughed her bright, happy laugh and said that it might be nice to have a quiet child for a change. She and Alex were young – younger than the usual people he was placed with – and he was only their third or fourth foster child. Chloe was pretty, bubbly and happy and treated him like her own from the start. She hadn't seemed to mind that it took him weeks to say a word, or that his bag had remained packed in the corner of his room for nearly two months. Alex was calmer, quieter – he reminded Jason a lot of Pythagoras in some ways – but had welcomed the child just as much as his wife. They had seemed to know instinctively what he had needed – had known that already buffeted by life at the age of seven what he had needed most was stability; a safe haven. They had been kind and loving and had made him feel for the first time that _someone_ wanted him. Jason could honestly say that the time he spent with Alex and Chloe was the happiest bit of his childhood. It hadn't been anything earth shattering – just normal life – but it was happy. It hadn't been their fault that the placement had ended in the end. Alex had lost his job and the house had to be sold. At the same time Chloe's mother (who lived hundreds of miles away) had become seriously ill. They had decided to move to look after her. They had wanted to take Jason with them but it hadn't been allowed. They had even broached the subject of adopting him, with Miss Roberts' full support, but her superiors had not been happy about the idea since Alex still did not have a new job and they were going to be living for the time being in a room of Chloe's mother's house. So it had ended like all good dreams do, although Chloe and Alex were the only foster parents Jason had ever had who he actually kept in touch with. And the smell of chamomile still reminded him of Chloe. If he closed his eyes he could almost feel her next to him.

"It's alright, Sunshine," Chloe's light voice sounded in his head, using the nickname she had always called him by. "Just relax. Everything will be okay."

Even though he knew that the voice was not real – came from within his own head just as the other voices had been doing – it calmed him; grounded him. Jason sighed softly and opened his eyes, drinking deeply from the cup Meriones had given him.

Meriones looked intently at the lad. Although he was still quite clearly deeply withdrawn Jason seemed more aware than he had been before – than he had been at any time since the merchant had found him the night before. Instinctively he sensed that they all had a long and rocky road ahead of them but at least they seemed to be pointed in the right direction now. Standing slowly he motioned Pythagoras off to one side.

"I have important business I must attend to," he said softly. "You will stay?"

Pythagoras gave a weak smile.

"I'll stay with him," he promised, nodding towards Jason. It was something he would have done even without Meriones' question or his permission. He smiled softly. "We will be fine together."

The young mathematician returned to the table and sat down opposite his friend, starting to draw parchments and writing tools from his bag.

Meriones watched the two boys for a moment, before nodding to himself and leaving them together in peace.


	19. Chapter 19

A/N Thank you for the reviews.

I hope this chapter is alright. Please let me know.

* * *

Meriones watched the young man sitting in the window and sighed. After four days Jason was finally beginning to show signs of being a bit more aware of his surroundings – of having more idea of where he was – but it was a slow process and he was still deeply withdrawn, still not really attempting to communicate. The peace and quiet of Meriones' house seemed to be doing the lad good – seemed to be relaxing him – and Pythagoras' infusions were certainly reducing the levels of anxiety that seemed to cling to Jason most of the time. Even so Meriones was more than a little concerned that the young man did not seem to be sleeping properly and was giving serious consideration to once again sedating Jason for his own good one night. But all in all he had to admit that things were getting better on the whole.

Two days earlier Jason had been much more unaware of where he was – much more detached from the real world – although his friends had not initially realised just how detached he was until there had been an incident. Meriones had slipped out of the house to visit the agora, reasoning that Jason would be fine on his own for a short time, and had bumped into Pythagoras who was on his way over to visit. On entering the house they had arrived just in time to see Jason put his hand down on the blade of a knife that Meriones had carelessly left out on the table. Neither the giant nor the mathematician believed that Jason had been intending to hurt himself but his lack of awareness of what was going on around him had led to an almost inevitable accident. The cut to the lad's hand had not been particularly deep but it had bled profusely. Pythagoras had sworn loudly. Meriones had been surprised – although he knew that Pythagoras had lived with Hercules for several years now and must at times have been subjected to the saltier aspects of the big man's vocabulary, he had not realised that the boy even knew how to swear. As it was Pythagoras used almost every curse word that he had learned from Hercules and a few more that Meriones didn't know the meaning of (and wasn't even sure were Atlantian Greek) – which, once he had calmed down, Pythagoras claimed to have learned from Jason. The young genius had then swung into action, cleaning and bandaging his friend's hand quickly and efficiently to avoid any risk of infection. What had unnerved both him and Meriones was that Jason hadn't even flinched much less made a sound. He had simply sat passively, allowing the mathematician to do what he needed to with the same detached and disinterested expression he had had most of the time since Meriones had found him in the alleyway.

That passivity was what worried Meriones most of all. Everything he had learned about Jason over the past few months told him that the young man was not given to blindly obeying orders. He was fiercely independent, headstrong and stubborn and tended to go his own way in life – marching to the beat of his own drummer. Now though he almost seemed like a child, obeying the gentle instructions that Meriones gave him apparently without thought. The giant shuddered. It all seemed so very wrong somehow.

As a result of the incident with the knife they had not left Jason on his own since, worried that in his current dazed state he might accidentally seriously hurt himself. Pythagoras came each morning and spent most of each day at Meriones' house to allow the giant merchant to go about his daily business. In the last four days they had seen neither hide nor hair of Hercules. Pythagoras reported that Hercules was apparently spending each day in the tavern, returning home drunk to sleep the alcohol off. Meriones was unsure whether to be worried or relieved by his old friend's absence. On the one hand he hated to think of Hercules, alone, guilty and worried, drinking himself into unconsciousness every night (after all in the giant merchant's mind drinking should be done for pleasure and not to drown one's sorrows) but on the other, if his old friend had not changed his attitude then he could do untold damage to Jason just as the lad was beginning to show signs of recovery, given that he was clearly still withdrawn and fragile. Still at the end of the day Hercules and his boys needed each other. Pythagoras was beginning to look worn, his nerves frayed. He quite obviously needed the support and reassurance that his burly friend usually provided; needed the quiet confidence that Hercules so often showed in him; needed the older man's strength. The mathematician was at the tavern now trying the persuade Hercules to put down the wine flagon and come home – to accept what had happened, forgive himself for what he had done and help them to persuade Jason to come back from wherever he currently was. It might take a little while for everyone to forgive one another (especially since Meriones had ordered Hercules to leave his house after their last argument four days ago) but they needed to make a start and the sooner the better.

Of course, Pythagoras' absence was what had led to Meriones' current predicament. He needed to go out. The message he had received from Gelo indicated that one of his business associates, a rather proud and self-important fool, was refusing to do business unless Meriones himself was there to do the deal personally – and it was a deal that the giant had been arranging for months. He cursed the timing of it. In all conscience he could not leave Jason alone in the house. Yes Jason was a full grown man and in the normal course of events it would not be a problem but right at the moment there was still a risk that he might hurt himself accidentally or – the gods forbid it – on purpose. Meriones had not even suggested to Pythagoras that Jason might deliberately self-harm but he couldn't help thinking it might be an outside possibility if the lad were left on his own and to his own devices. He frowned. The obvious solution was to take Jason with him to his business meeting. He was sure that Kerkyon would be happy to stay with the lad in another room until the deal was struck. His blonde employee liked Jason. Had, on the rare occasions that the two lads had visited Meriones' tavern with Hercules in the past few months, sat and played dice with the boy – and he hadn't even cheated! The only problem with that idea was that Meriones was unsure how Jason would react to the hustle and bustle of the streets of Atlantis, much less crossing the crowded agora at the busiest time of day. Loud noises were tending to make the lad flinch and if his panic attack the other day were anything to go by he would not handle raised voices very well. Still, Meriones could see no other way around it. He had no means of getting word to either Gelo or Kerkyon in time and getting them to come here to stay with Jason. If he had known earlier that Pythagoras was going to be busy trying to track down Hercules he could have made alternative arrangements. The giant sighed again and wandered over to the window seat where Jason was sitting looking out over the street.

Meriones' house stood on the corner of the Sacred Way, one of the two most important streets in Atlantis. It had been important to him to have a house on the corner as it meant that the main entrance – used by important visitors, clients and business rivals – stood on the Sacred Way itself and presented an imposing facade which led into the suite of rooms that he kept for business purposes. Around the corner, however, was Meriones' own private entrance – a small unassuming door which looked very much like a servant's entrance and led directly into his private chambers and was used only by himself and his closest friends. The window that Jason was currently sitting in overlooked the side street and Meriones found himself peering out to see what the lad was looking at – if indeed he was seeing what was around him at the moment. Out on the street the cream of Atlantian society bustled past with their servants in tow, businessmen arranged impromptu deals with one another on the corner, a young serving boy hurried by with a basket of pomegranates (dropping one as he went and stooping with a furtive look around himself to pick it up), and a rich young woman wandered home from the agora at a stately pace, her young slave girl, bare breasted and with her hair plaited into cornrows with cowry shells woven through, trotting along behind her carrying a heavy bale of silks for making up into new gowns and enduring her mistresses scorn. Meriones half smiled – a typical Atlantian street scene on a typical Atlantian day. He turned towards Jason and allowed his smile to become wider.

"I have business I must attend to," he rumbled softly. "I would appreciate your company."

Jason gave little indication of either knowing or caring what Meriones had said, although he did turn his head away from the window and towards the enormous merchant.

"Go and put your sandals on," Meriones continued, "while I fetch my cloak."

As Jason stood and started to pad across the room on bare feet towards what was rapidly coming to be known as his room, he sighed quietly. Meriones froze, his smile growing. That was the first apparently voluntary sound he had heard Jason make in days. If the boy was starting to notice the world around him again and starting to interact with it (even if it was in a very tiny way) then things were definitely looking up. The giant crossed the room to his own chambers to collect the cloak he had told Jason he needed to fetch. He had given the young man a safe haven for a few days – had given him a quiet and peaceful place to start to recover – now it was time to see how Jason reacted when he was reintroduced to the world at large.

* * *

The air hung thick with the malodorous stench of stale sweat and alcohol. The odour alone was enough to fell a fully grown man. Pythagoras swayed slightly on his feet as the fumes hit him as he descended the stairs into the underground room, gagging at the smell. Without thinking he drew the sleeve of his over-robe up to cover his nose and mouth. Having spent the best part of half a day searching the taverns for Hercules, the smell associated with drinking establishments was beginning to turn his stomach. This place could hardly be called a tavern though. It was more of a flea-pit than anything – the last chance resort of the desperate and drunken. It was not somewhere that the young genius had ever thought he would find himself, or for that matter Hercules – it was a location that would have suited his father far better. But he had searched for his old friend in all of his usual haunts – and even in a few taverns that he knew Hercules would never normally stoop so low as to drink in. He'd even tried the tavern by the docks that Jason had got drunk in – and had been propositioned by the blousy blonde hanging out of the window for his efforts. The dockside tavern had been everything Hercules had said it was, although Pythagoras was curious as to just how Hercules knew so much about the place and about the frizzy haired blonde that he seemed to indicate was a permanent fixture. Thinking about it, though, it was perhaps best not to ask.

No matter where he had looked for the big man however, Hercules had been conspicuous by his absence. Pythagoras knew that his friend had been drinking pretty much steadily for the last four days solid – had spent the nights either passed out in a gutter or had stumbled home and woken the young mathematician up with as he tripped over the table yet again and been put to bed to sleep off the alcohol in a drunken stupor – only to wake the next day and begin the cycle all over again.

Pythagoras was so tired. All he seemed to have done for the last few days was look after one or the other of his friends. Jason couldn't really help it, Pythagoras was sure. He was simply not aware enough of his surroundings to look after himself and after the knife incident two days ago it seemed imprudent to leave him alone until he was more alert. Hercules was another matter though. For all Meriones had been right to make Hercules leave after the argument they had had (and Pythagoras _did_ believe the giant had been right given how upset Jason had become), his family needed him now – Pythagoras needed him now. Enough was enough. He could not be allowed to wallow in a mixture of guilt and self-pity any longer.

This was what had brought the mathematician to this particular place at this particular time. Having exhausted all other options for where Hercules might be he had finally come to this dive. It was his last chance really. If Hercules was not here then Pythagoras had no idea where else he would look. He would have to return home empty handed and with an increasingly heavy heart. Squinting he peered ahead of him into the gloom, hoping to see his friend.

Hicetaon's tavern was part of the dark underbelly of Atlantis. Situated below ground level, with a cess pit on either side, it was disgusting, dank and dark. Most of the clientele had good reason not to be seen above ground – good reason to avoid the authorities. It was the refuge of the criminal underclass and the terminally drunk. It was a dirty, stinking dive where a person was more than likely to catch something – even if it was only lice. The floor was covered in rotting rushes and water ran freely down the walls to gather in stagnant pools in the corners. The guttering torches gave off a greasy, black smoke that hung like a miasma over the entire room and the furniture was riddled with bugs and looked likely to fall apart at any moment. This disgusting hovel suited Hercules' black mood down to the ground at the moment though. He had forgone all his usual haunts for days, reasoning that no-one would find him here – that Pythagoras (who was in all probability the only person who would even look for him) was unlikely to even know this place existed. The big man sighed miserably into his drink.

He hadn't meant things to get this far. He had really, genuinely believed that giving Jason a short sharp wake-up call would bring the lad out of his stupor, but instead he could have driven the lad even further away from them. The instant he had seen Jason start to panic and had heard Meriones quietly hiss at him to get out everything had come crashing down upon him. It didn't matter how he had tried to justify things or how provoked he had been, the simple truth remained that he had lashed out in a fit of temper and had struck one of his boys both physically with his hand and emotionally with his words. That he had not known how emotionally vulnerable – how close to the damned edge – Jason had been, made no difference. The end result was still the same. What Alektryon had started _he_ had finished. This was all his fault and he couldn't blame his other friends (if they _were_ still his friends) for wanting to keep him away – for forcing him to leave. He sighed again.

"So this is where you're hiding then," the cool voice startled Hercules out of his thoughts.

The burly wrestler looked up to see Pythagoras staring back down at him with one eyebrow raised and a disapproving frown gracing his thin face. Hercules' foggy brain tried to chug forward a couple of gears. How in the name of the gods was Pythagoras here? The lad shouldn't even know that this place existed. He was far too young and too innocent to be exposed to the seamier sections of Atlantian culture.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

Pythagoras peered around himself in the half-light, trying to work out if he dared to sit down on a rickety stool – the thing looked ready to collapse at any moment and he really wasn't sure if he wanted to risk catching anything by sitting down. He swiped ineffectually at the surface with the edge of his over-robe, trying to clear away some of the thick layer of grime that graced the stool. It didn't work. Sighing the young genius carefully sat down, trying to ignore the feeling that something was crawling all over his skin.

"I was looking for you," he said firmly.

"What for?" Hercules asked, slurring his words slightly as he poured the last dregs of wine out of a jug into his cup. "It's not as if I'm any use to anyone."

Pythagoras frowned.

"You can't stay here all day," he said. "Come on. We need you at home. Hercules."

Hercules snorted incredulously as he picked up his cup.

"You cannot sit here wallowing in self-pity," Pythagoras stated. "Jason needs you."

"Jason doesn't need me," Hercules said angrily. "Meriones made that quite clear."

"He does need you," Pythagoras answered. "We both do. Jason needs all his friends around him right now. And you are not going to be of any help sitting here getting drunk."

"Leave me alone," Hercules grumbled.

"We need to find out what is going on in Jason's head at the moment," the young genius argued, "and you are not going to find it at the bottom of a flagon of wine."

"You don't know what it's like," Hercules slurred miserably. "Jason was afraid of me. He was scared! Of me!"

"He is not scared of you, Hercules."

"He flinched away from me," Hercules said.

"Jason is flinching away from everyone," Pythagoras said tiredly. "He will not let anyone touch him right now."

"No," Hercules stated stubbornly. "It was different. He was scared. He's better off without me."

"You cannot mean that Hercules," Pythagoras said. "Come on, things will get better."

"How would you know," Hercules snapped. "All you really care about is your theories and your triangles."

Pythagoras looked hurt.

"That is not true and not fair and you know it," he said. "I _do_ care. I care about Jason…. and I care about you…. and what's more so does Meriones. Maybe if you weren't so intent on wallowing in self-pity and guilt you would be able to see that."

"Oh leave me alone," Hercules said again.

Pythagoras took a deep breath, thoroughly irritated by his big friend.

"Fine," he snapped. "I came to find you because I wanted your help but now I see that all you're interested in is yourself. Stay here and drink yourself to death for all I care. I don't have the time, the energy or the patience to deal with this right now."

He pushed the stool back with a clatter as he stood up and marched back out the way he had come, making his way back up the stairs and onto the street in a state of righteous indignation.

Hercules didn't even look up to watch him go. He simply drained his cup and called for another flagon of wine.

* * *

The agora was just as noisy and busy as Meriones had feared it would be. Alongside him Jason cringed every time someone raised their voice or a particularly loud sound was heard and it was all the giant merchant could do to persuade himself not to put his arm around the lad's shoulders or perhaps hold his hand. Somehow he didn't think that Jason would appreciate it though so he managed to restrain himself. The young man was clearly anxious, appearing to be bordering on the edge of panic now that they were away from the safety of Meriones' comfortable home. Behind them somewhere a vendor dropped a crate with a clatter. Jason jumped and span around, before edging closer to the giant merchant. Meriones swallowed a curse and thanked the gods that they were so nearly home.

The business meeting had been… interesting. It had not really been Jason's fault, Meriones sternly reminded himself. The walk across the agora and through the busy streets had set the lad seriously on edge, his anxiety levels rising and his nerves frayed. By the time they had got to the tavern he had been on the verge of another panic attack and Meriones had been forced to spend some time calming him down before the meeting could commence. Having made sure that the lad was safely ensconced in a back room, still appearing to be largely unaware of his surroundings, the giant merchant had moved into the room set aside for his meeting and had moved to greet the pompous ass that had insisted upon his personal attention. Meriones shook his head in fond exasperation as he thought about what had happened next.

"_Good Afternoon, Onias," Meriones greeted the perfume maker who was sitting comfortably in the side room at the tavern where the giant merchant usually did business._

_Onias did not bother to rise to greet Meriones and ignored the giant's outstretched hand, instead taking another sip from his wine goblet. Onias was a pompous and self-aggrandising idiot with an inflated sense of his own importance. He customarily wore a purple chiton – a garment more normally reserved for ceremonial occasions in Atlantis – rather than the tunic and trousers favoured by most of the population out of the misguided belief that it made him look both superior and important. Meriones privately despised the man but he was the only producer of a particular perfume that the enormous businessman wished to export to Athens – where it should net him a handsome profit._

_In the corner Gelo growled quietly at the studied insult offered towards the man who was both his employer and his friend. Meriones silenced him with an almost unnoticeable gesture and beamed even more widely at Onias._

"_You wished for a meeting to discuss our business," he said._

_Onias sneered superciliously._

"_Your man informed me that you were unavailable," he said. "I informed him that unless you were here to strike the deal yourself then there would be no business between us. I do not conduct business with underlings."_

_Gelo growled again, a little more loudly this time. Onias looked around at the sound with a barely concealed smirk._

"_A thousand pardons. Please accept my most profuse apologies," Meriones said smoothly. "I have been detained by a family emergency for the last few days. A sudden illness. You understand."_

"_I would have thought that you above all people would know better than to let sentiment and family get in the way of a business deal," Onias said arrogantly. "Such sentimentality will make people think that you are not a serious businessman."_

_Meriones smiled. He really could not stand this man and was looking forward to getting the best of the deal. Onias was far from being as astute a businessman as he believed._

"_I am here now," he said softly. "Let us get down to business."_

_They had been in fairly serious negotiations for some time when the door to the room opened unexpectedly. Both Meriones and Onias had started and turned to face the door. Meriones had been extremely startled when Jason had wandered in and sat down near him. It appeared that the lad had been far more aware of his surroundings than the giant had thought and, having grown used to Meriones' calming and reassuring presence over the last few days, had come looking for the man. It also appeared that Jason felt safe and secure around him as the boy visibly relaxed when he saw Meriones. A few seconds later Kerkyon had appeared in the doorway, an apologetic look on his face._

"_Sorry," he muttered to Meriones. "I only nipped out for a pee. I didn't think he'd move. He seemed quite content just to sit there." He turned to Jason. "Come on mate," he said quietly. "Let's go back and have a drink."_

_Jason blinked at him._

_Meriones turned back to Onias and smiled ingratiatingly._

"_Please excuse me," he said. "There is an urgent piece of business that requires my attention."_

_Before Onias could think to complain, or even react for that matter, the giant had stood and turned away from him. _

"_Jason," he said so quietly that Onias would not hear him, but with firm authority in his tone, "come with me into the other room."_

_He smiled softly as the lad stood up and followed him._

In the end Meriones had abandoned the meeting after Jason had interrupted for the fourth time. It had become clear that the young man would not stay in the other room while Meriones was conducting his business and he had proved remarkably good at giving Kerkyon the slip. Onias had been both livid and confused, unable to work out who the strange silent boy that kept appearing had been. Meriones could have taken advantage of his confusion to broker an extremely favourable deal but by that point he had been more concerned with getting an increasingly agitated Jason home. He had excused himself by lying and claiming that one of his warehouses had been broken into and that he had to deal with the culprits. He wasn't entirely sure that Onias had believed him but the man needed Meriones' network of contacts to sell his perfumes (no matter how important he believed himself to be) so he had not openly objected when Meriones had suggested a postponement until the next day.

So now Meriones was left trying to hurry Jason across the loud and busy agora before the lad had a total meltdown in the street. A call from behind him made the merchant turn and he saw with growing relief the gangly figure of Pythagoras rushing through the agora to join them.

"I saw you across the marketplace," Pythagoras huffed, out of breath as he finally managed to get through to them. "What are you doing out here? Is Jason alright?"

Meriones frowned.

"He will be better once we can get him home," he admitted as he tried to use his body to shield his dark haired companion from the pushing and shoving of the crowd. "I had urgent business that could not be avoided and I did not want to leave Jason on his own. Did you find Hercules?"

Pythagoras' open face darkened.

"Yes," he said. "He will not come home. I have never seen him like this. I am afraid I lost my temper and snapped at him."

"He probably deserved it," Meriones said as they started to move forward again against the flow of the crowd.

"Yes but…"

"But nothing. I have been Hercules' friend for more years than I care to count. He is one of my oldest and dearest friends. But there are times when I want to strangle him. Hercules is not always easy to get on with."

"Perhaps," Pythagoras murmured. He sighed. "I am sure he will come home eventually. We will just have to leave him to come around in his own time I suppose."

Meriones looked at the young genius and frowned. Pythagoras looked tired and drawn. This situation was weighing heavily on him, putting a heavy burden on his slender shoulders as he tried to support and care for his two closest friends. The giant once again cursed his old friend's temper for causing a lot of their current problems. At least, he reflected, they no longer had to concern themselves with Alektryon. A proclamation read on the steps of the Palace had described his execution in gruesome detail for the expectant crowd to mull over. It had been the morning after the incident with Hercules and Meriones had slipped out of the house to hear the latest news and to reassure himself that the previous night's execution had gone off without a hitch.

As he mused on this, and mulled over just what he could do to try to bring Hercules around, he failed to notice a small bundle of energy hurtling towards them. The bundle hurled itself towards Jason squealing with delight. Pythagoras caught a glimpse of flying blonde hair and tried to stop it from crashing into his friend but he was too late. The figure became a female child, all arms and legs and long blonde hair, that latched onto Jason and wrapped her arms around him tightly.

"Jason," she squealed happily. "I haven't seen you for ages." Her small face morphed into a frown.

"Cassie," the child's father came puffing up behind her. "You mustn't run off like that." He looked around at the strained faces of Meriones and Pythagoras, and at Jason's blank expression and frowned, faltering slightly. "Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Jason?" Cassie said tentatively at the same time, realising for the first time that there was something not quite right with her friend.

To his friends' astonishment, before either Pythagoras or Meriones could say anything, Jason slowly and carefully crouched down to the child and put his arms around her, although he didn't utter a sound. Drawing Cassie towards himself he closed his eyes and relaxed into a hug – the first physical contact that he had engaged in since the night Meriones had found him in the alley. His two friends watched him dumbfounded.

Cassie returned his hug for a moment before drawing back, her expression serious.

"Did you lose your voice?" she asked innocently. "My Daddy says I lost my voice once and I couldn't speak for a whole week. I don't remember but Daddy says I was too young."

Jason nodded slowly, his gestures still fairly small.

Meriones watched the interaction between the young man and the child as the girl chattered on, his mind awhirl. True Jason was still only responding to her in a fairly small way but it was still far more than any of his friends had managed to get out of him in days. The little girl seemed almost oblivious to Jason's silence, filling the quiet with bright chatter of her own. Perhaps they could use her to break through some of Jason's barriers – to persuade him to start interacting with the rest of the world and start functioning again. A tug on his arm made the giant turn. The little girl's father was watching him with serious eyes.

"Is everything alright?" he repeated.

"I believe everything will be," Meriones said softly. "I have a request to make of you and your daughter. But first might I ask your name and how you know my friend Jason?"

"My name is Talos," the man said. "I am a humble clothing merchant. I have a small business making up imported cloth into garments and then trying to sell them." He looked from his own simple clothing to Meriones' clearly more expensive garments. "I'm not very successful I'm afraid but it feeds myself and my daughter Castianiera." Talos paused. "Cassie is my life," he admitted. "I nearly lost her when she fell into the harbour. Jason saved her life."

Meriones smiled. So this was the little girl that Jason had saved.

"Cassie has claimed Jason as her friend I am afraid," Talos continued. "I'm not entirely sure that he realised exactly what that would mean but he was good enough to humour her."

"Then my friend I most definitely do have a request to make of you," Meriones said jovially. "Perhaps we should go to my home to discuss matters. I live near here." He paused and looked at Pythagoras who was still staring open mouthed at Jason holding the little girl. "But where are my manners?" he asked. "I am Meriones. I am a merchant and businessman and I am most pleased to make your acquaintance."

Talos started. He had heard of Meriones – of course he had – the man was legendary in business circles. He gulped.

"Of course," he stuttered.

"Then we shall go," Meriones smiled.

At a word from her father, Cassie disengaged herself from Jason's embrace and took hold of the young man's hand. It apparently never occurred to her that Jason might not be comfortable with this, and to be fair the young man showed no obvious signs of discomfort, despite the fact that he had been flinching away from being touched for days – ever since Alektryon's attack really, Pythagoras thought with a silent sigh. Confidently the little girl began to lead the dark haired lad down the street as the whole party turned in the direction of Meriones' home.


	20. Chapter 20

A/N Thank you for the reviews - I try to respond to them all personally but I don't always succeed! To Jmp this is the only way I can say thank you, so... well... thank you. The reviews I get do help to convince me that it's still worth carrying on (because I'm not always sure)

Please read and enjoy this new chapter - and if you feel like it please drop me a line to let me know :-)

* * *

It was late in the evening when Pythagoras finally stumbled back through the door into his own home almost too tired to stand much less walk in a straight line. He had lingered longer at Meriones' house far later than he had expected to, opting to stay and have supper with the giant merchant and Jason. Not that Jason had really done much more than pick at his dinner distractedly. The young genius frowned. Sooner or later they would need to address that particular issue. While Jason _was_ eating with some prompting he was not really eating enough to be considered healthy and both Meriones and Pythagoras suspected that he was not sleeping properly either.

"_Insomnia and I are old friends."_

Pythagoras unexpectedly recalled Jason's words of so many weeks before. In his sleep deprived state it suddenly occurred to him just how many times he had come out of his room in the middle of the night to fetch a cup of water only to discover Jason standing at a window or sitting on the balcony, or even occasionally out on the roof. He knew that Hercules had done the same at times too. The big man was known for checking up on his young friends in the night whenever he was sober – particularly since the incident months earlier when Jason had been tortured and had suffered from horrific nightmares for a time afterwards. He had commented once that he had had some very interesting conversations with the young brunette at times when they should both have been sleeping. Then there was the fact that Jason was often up into the night past the point when Pythagoras had gone to bed – would not seek his own bed until rather later – and yet was always up earlier than either one of his friends. Pythagoras wondered now just how bad Jason's insomnia got at times and whether his friend even really noticed any more that his sleeping patterns were not normal.

Still Jason appeared to have been sleeping even less than usual lately and was beginning to develop the tell-tale dark rings around his eyes. On this occasion at least Pythagoras could do something about it though. He had given Meriones some valerian with the instructions to mix it with chamomile as an infusion and give it to Jason to drink. While he was in no doubt that Meriones himself probably had access to some fairly strong sedative herbs, valerian was more gentle and would have the added bonus of calming Jason down and reducing his stress and anxiety levels. As far as Pythagoras could tell that was something that they desperately needed to do. As long as Jason remained on edge – on the borders of a panic attack – they were unlikely to have much success in getting through to him and persuading him to interact with the world around him.

Actually he wondered briefly if he should consider taking a valerian tonic himself – although he had to admit that the taste was absolutely vile even when mixed with chamomile. He had not really slept well in days and was growing snappy as a result. But what if Hercules came home drunk and passed out face down on the bed? It had happened before and he might suffocate if Pythagoras were not there to make sure he was rolled onto his side. Or he might fall and hit his head and bleed to death on the floor all because Pythagoras had taken a sleeping draught and not awoken.

The mathematician sighed and put his satchel down on the table. No he would not risk any further harm coming to either one of his friends by his own negligence. He would just have to make do and try to get some natural sleep once Hercules was home – if he managed to make it home that was and didn't end up passed out in a gutter, prey to all the common footpads and criminals that might lurk in the dark. Pythagoras' brow furrowed with worry.

He was just so tired though and his head was pounding. Surely it would not hurt to go and lie down for a little while? He was certain he would wake up the instant Hercules crashed through the door. After all the big man had all the grace and finesse of a baby Minotaur even when sober. Decision made Pythagoras stumbled sleepily towards his bedroom. Slipping in through the doorway but not bothering to close the curtain that separated his room from the rest of the house (after all he would undoubtedly be getting up again when Hercules got home), he plopped down onto his bed with a relieved sigh. Toeing off his sandals he bent to massage his aching feet. He must have walked miles today – from one end of the city to the other and back again – while he was searching for Hercules. Part of him was still hurt and upset that his old friend thought that he only cared for his triangles and his theories, although he realised that the big man was simply lashing out because of his own guilt and self-loathing. He slipped between the covers with another contented sigh, allowing his head to drop back into the pillow.

Within minutes of lying down, however, it became obvious that the universe was conspiring against him. Somewhere outside a dog started to bark loudly. Then the couple next door started to argue (they had been doing that a lot lately – Pythagoras privately suspected that it had something to do with their son who had disappeared mysteriously to Pathmos a couple of months ago) and the sound of breaking plates vibrated through Pythagoras' head. He sighed and pulled his pillow over his head, trying to muffle the sound. After a minute or two he was far too hot, however, and had to let the pillow fall back onto the bed, giving it a despairing thump.

By the time everything quietened down next door he was wide awake again, and lay staring hopelessly at the ceiling, his mind working busily. To say that he had been surprised when Jason had hugged the little girl, Cassie, would be a serious understatement. After four days of unresponsiveness on the part of his dark haired friend, to see him react so suddenly and decisively had been a shock. Yes Jason had yet to speak but at least he appeared to be beginning to wake up to the world around him. For a brief moment Pythagoras felt an irrational surge of jealousy that his friend had reacted to someone who was essentially a complete stranger rather than one of his friends. Then his rational mind kicked in and reminded him that it was a good thing that Jason was reacting to _anyone_. The more he thought about it the more it made sense too. Jason always jumped in to help the weak and the innocent – always tried to protect and look after them – it was simply part of his character. Something inside him would have responded to Cassie's innocence – would unconsciously need to protect her. And if he would react to innocent creatures then Pythagoras knew exactly what he could use to try and break through to his friend even more. He smiled in the darkness. Meriones had the right idea in trying to use the little girl to get through to Jason and to encourage him to interact with the world around him – and had asked Talos to bring the child over to his house each day to play just to see if his idea would work – but Pythagoras thought he could take it just one step further.

As he lay in the dark thinking, the young genius' mind inevitably wandered to the theories and speculations he had come up with in the Temple the other night regarding Jason's origins. What if he was right? What if Jason really was the Queen's son? He could not see Pasiphae being happy to leave Jason living the life of an ordinary peasant. He had a feeling that the Queen would want her son at her side – would have plans for Jason. And what might those plans be? He knew Jason well enough to realise that his friend would not allow himself to be used to further the Queen's power to the detriment of others. And Jason would hate to be thrust into the limelight that way anyway – would hate to be the centre of attention. That much was obvious from the way that he had allowed Hercules to publically take all the credit for slaying the Minotaur back when they had all first met – merely making the odd sarcastic comment to the big man. Perhaps he was being unfair, though. Perhaps Pasiphae would be so delighted to have her son back – to regain the child that she had lost so cruelly – that she would merely want to get to know Jason. Would happily meet him on his own terms (however unlikely that seemed given the Queen's character). But that all assumed that she had any maternal feelings for the young man; that she wanted to know her son (and the more he thought about it the more Pythagoras was coming to believe that Jason _was_ her son); that she would not see him as a threat to her own position and power. And thinking of such things, how would Minos react? Pythagoras was not naïve enough (no matter what Hercules believed) to imagine that the King would welcome Jason with open arms. After all he was potentially the son of the man Minos had usurped the throne from; a potential claimant for the throne. Minos might well view Jason as a threat and would at the very least banish him and at worst try to have him killed. And what would that mean for Jason's friends? Pythagoras knew without a doubt that he would stand at Jason's back no matter what – would try to protect his friend wherever he could – and he believed that Hercules would do exactly the same. So all their lives might be in danger from the King. Pythagoras found that he was surprisingly alright with that thought. Yes Minos might very well view Jason as a threat. There were some in Atlantis who would say that the son of the old King had far more right to the throne than the current King himself. A sudden thought occurred to Pythagoras and brought him up short. If what he was thinking were correct then Jason was a prince. A prince of Atlantis had been living under their roof for months – had spent the first couple of months sleeping on the hard floor until they had been able to afford a bed for him. He ought to be embarrassed at that but somehow he wasn't. No matter who Jason's parents might be it didn't really change a thing; didn't change who he essentially was as a person and wouldn't change how his friends felt about him.

A noise from the doorway made Pythagoras turn in the darkness. It sounded suspiciously as though someone was trying (and failing) to open the door quietly. Hercules. It had to be. Pythagoras sighed and sat up, swinging his legs out of bed. As he made it into the kitchen the door finally sprang open and Hercules all but fell through it. He latched onto Pythagoras and threw his arms around the mathematician, leaning much of his substantial weight on the lad's thin frame.

"You were right," he slurred. "I'm a hopeless drunk and I'm not helping anyone."

"It's alright," Pythagoras muttered softly. "You couldn't help it." It didn't actually matter whether he believed what he was saying or not – right now it was what Hercules needed to hear.

"I'm sorry," Hercules mumbled blearily. "I wouldn't want to hurt either of you boys."

"I know," Pythagoras answered comfortingly, "but none of it matters anyway right now."

"I'm sorry," Hercules slurred again and promptly passed out in Pythagoras' arms.

"Oh," Pythagoras groaned in frustration. "Hercules," he tried to rouse the man.

When it became obvious that Hercules would not be roused, Pythagoras swore softly and started the process of hauling the man to bed, manhandling his friend as best he could. It had been something that he had had to do all too often in the past. Over the last few months, however, he had been grateful to have someone else to share his burden with. Whereas in the past he would have to put Hercules to bed every time he came home drunk, at least half of the time now that task was taken from him. There were even nights these days when Pythagoras managed to completely sleep through Hercules' drunken entrance. He still got more than enough practice to be able to put Hercules to bed now though. Dropping the big man onto his bed, he rolled Hercules onto his side to avoid the risk of his older friend either suffocating or choking on his own vomit.

Having left the room and closed the door, Pythagoras stopped and thought about what he should do next. Logic dictated that he should at least attempt to get some sleep but he was far too wide awake and his mind was far too active for that now no matter how tired he was. It would do no good going back to bed. He would just lie awake in the dark fretting about his friends. So Pythagoras did what he always did when he was worried or stressed. He started to clean.

* * *

Hercules stumbled out of his room into the bright morning sunshine intent on finding breakfast to ease the gnawing hunger in his gut. When had he last eaten? For once he wasn't sure. Somehow the last few days had passed in a blur and while he had vague recollections of eating some sort of pie purchased from a stall in the street (containing an unidentifiable filling that Hercules really didn't want to think about in the light of day but suspected might have been rat) but he wasn't sure whether or not that had been yesterday or the day before. He winced as the glaring sunlight hit his eyes and squinted them half closed to ease his pounding head.

As he looked around the kitchen, Hercules froze. The whole house was spotless – immaculate. The big man grimaced. That spoke whole volumes for Pythagoras' state of mind. Hercules knew from long experience that the more worried and stressed the mathematician got the more obsessed he became with cleaning and tidying – making sure that everything was exactly in its place. Right now the lad was sleeping at the table, his head pillowed on his arms. Hercules looked at him with a sinking feeling growing in the pit of his stomach, correctly suspecting that Pythagoras had not actually been to bed and had spent the night reorganising the kitchen and housekeeping. As the burly wrestler sat down on a bench on the opposite side of the table to the lad, Pythagoras stirred and raised his head, blinking in sleepy confusion at his friend.

"Hercules!" he exclaimed. "You're up… and eating," he added looking at the chunk of bread that seemed to have materialised in the big man's hand.

Hercules shrugged sheepishly.

"I was hungry," he said. He looked around again. "You've been cleaning," he noted.

Pythagoras resisted the urge to roll his eyes. If nothing else Hercules was the master of stating the obvious.

"It needed doing," he said.

Hercules raised an eyebrow and looked long and hard at the young man. Pythagoras looked tired and drawn, his usually pale complexion even whiter than ever. He winced. It was obvious just looking at him how much pressure the blonde lad had been under.

Pythagoras fought the urge to shuffle awkwardly, suddenly embarrassed by the scrutiny. It wasn't as if he had done anything wrong by cleaning the house, he rationalised. Alright so he might have got a little carried away but the whole house _had _been in need of a good clean and the middle of the night had seemed an ideal opportunity when there was no one else around to disturb him. And the pots on the shelves had never looked so good. They were positively gleaming.

"How was Jason yesterday?" Hercules asked abruptly, interrupting the young genius' rambling thoughts.

Pythagoras blinked in confusion. It was the first time since the argument at Meriones' house that the big man had asked after their friend. The mathematician had tried several times to tell Hercules about Jason – to talk to him – but the older man had seemed too sunk in his own misery to be interested.

"He seemed a little better," he answered cautiously. "A little less withdrawn. He is still not speaking but he does seem to know where he is at least some of the time." He paused. "Meriones had to go to a business meeting yesterday and as we have not been risking leaving Jason alone…"

"Why?" interrupted Hercules.

Pythagoras sighed.

"Of course. You would not know," he murmured.

"Wouldn't know what?" Hercules asked, frowning slightly.

Pythagoras sighed again

"There was an incident three days ago," he admitted. "Meriones had popped out to the agora. Neither of us realised at the time how detached from the real world Jason was, so it never occurred to Meriones that he should not be left on his own. Meriones met me on the way back. We got to his house just in time to see Jason put his hand down on the blade of a knife."

Hercules went white.

"On purpose?" he demanded.

"No, no," Pythagoras sought to reassure him, knowing how upset Hercules would be. "Jason was just so unaware of what was around him that he cut himself by accident. It wasn't even that deep. Just bled a lot."

Hercules huffed out the breath he had been holding. To know his words and actions had pushed his young friend so far that he had completely withdrawn into himself was bad enough, but to think that he had caused the young man to want to deliberately hurt himself was almost unthinkable – horrifying. It was with a great deal of relief that he understood his worst fears had not been realised.

"Anyway," Pythagoras continued. "As Meriones had to attend a business meeting and I was… busy – and as we had decided not to leave Jason on his own for the time being until he is a little more aware of his own surroundings – he decided to take Jason with him. I gather that the meeting did not go too well."

"Why?" Hercules asked. He felt incredibly guilty knowing that the reason the young genius was not available to help his old friend was because he was out searching for _him_.

"It appears that Jason was not happy to be left with Kerkyon for company. He kept giving Kerkyon the slip and wandering in to sit with Meriones. I gather he was most persistent and would not take no for an answer."

Hercules burst into sudden laughter.

"That sounds like Jason," he chortled. "I've never known anyone as stubborn as he is."

Pythagoras unexpectedly found the corners of his own mouth twitching upwards in response. Hercules was right – Jason was incredibly headstrong and stubborn on any normal day, and when he set his mind on something could not easily be deterred.

"Quite," he said. "I did take it as a good sign when Meriones told me. If Jason is starting to be stubborn again then he is starting to come back to us."

He stopped for a minute as Isosceles wandered into the room mewing pitifully for her breakfast. Even the kitten had seemed to be affected by the black mood that has pervaded the house over the last few days, appearing subdued as though she were pining for her human. Although Pythagoras was fond of her (and believed from her purring and nuzzling that she was fond of him) she was quite obviously Jason's cat and had taken to spending each night and most of each day curled up miserably on his pillow apparently awaiting his return.

Pythagoras sighed tiredly. To his surprise, however before he could push himself up from the table to find some food for Isosceles, Hercules was already on his feet and had swept the tiny ball of fluff up into his arms.

"Are you hungry too?" he cooed softly.

Isosceles purred and rubbed her head against the side of the big man's face.

"Don't worry," Hercules rumbled to the kitten as he fixed her a plate of meat scraps. "I know you must be missing Jason but we'll have him home soon. We'll fix everything."

Pythagoras watched the exchange between the burly wrestler and the cat with his mouth hanging open in a most unbecoming manner. He had always known that Hercules' bark was far worse than his bite – that he was a bit of a soft touch really – but he hadn't realised how fond the man had become of the kitten already. He really should have known, he reflected. After all he had seen how attached Hercules had become to baby Oedipus in a remarkably short space of time. Gradually he became aware that the big man was watching him with one eyebrow raised sardonically. Pythagoras shut his mouth with a snap, embarrassed at having been caught daydreaming.

"Anyway," he said awkwardly, "I met Meriones and Jason coming back through the agora. Jason was clearly on edge – agitated and anxious. I think it was probably the noise and the number of people. He has not been comfortable with anyone touching him since Alektryon…." He paused. "Just as we were about to return to Meriones' house the little girl Jason rescued from the docks came out of nowhere and latched on to Jason…. and he hugged her, Hercules."

"So?"

"So, Jason has not allowed anyone to get that close to him in days. Has not allowed anyone to touch him. And yet he crouched down and hugged the little girl because she sounded upset. Reacted to her in a way that he has not been reacting to anyone else. I have been thinking about it and I think that it is because on some level he saw her as innocent – as helpless – and needing protection and you know what Jason is like about helping people."

"He can't help himself," Hercules muttered thoughtfully. "He'd try to help a hydra if it looked innocent and helpless enough."

"Indeed," Pythagoras responded. "I take it as another good sign that Jason is beginning to come back to himself though. Is beginning to wake up as it were. Meriones has asked the girl's father to bring her around to his home for a time each day to see if she can draw Jason into interacting with the world again." He looked out of the window at the position of the sun. "I have delayed too long," he fretted. "I should be on my way to visit Jason now. Meriones will need to go to work soon."

As he went to stand, however, a meaty hand on his arm made him stop, hovering halfway between sitting and standing.

"You need to have breakfast first," Hercules stated firmly. "You'll be no good to anyone if you're passing out from hunger."

Pythagoras opened his mouth to argue when his stomach growled loudly – as though Hercules' talk of breakfast had woken it up and made it decide to make its presence known. The big man grinned openly.

"See," he said. "Tell you what, let me get you something to eat and then we can head over there together. It's about time that I got involved in this myself." He paused and looked at Pythagoras, his contrition evident in his eyes. "I've been very foolish and very selfish, and I'm sorry for that. You shouldn't have been having to deal with things on your own and you certainly shouldn't have been having to try to look after me too. We're family – all three of us – and I forgot that for a while. So if you can forgive a silly old man I'd like to help. If we're going to persuade Jason to come home then I think you're going to need me too."

Pythagoras blinked at him in grateful astonishment and sat back down at the table, suddenly feeling a whole lot better about life than he had for some time.

* * *

Jason sat in what was rapidly becoming his favourite spot in Meriones' house – the window seat overlooking the street in the main living room – watching the world go by. Part of him longed to be out in the fresh air, out in the hustle and bustle of the street, but the rest of him balked at the idea of being that close to people – panic beginning to rise inside him at the mere thought of people brushing against him, shouting and shoving. He swallowed hard and took some deep breaths, trying to force the feeling back down inside. He sighed silently. Soon he would have to decide what he was going to do. Whatever happened he couldn't stay here forever – tempting though it was. This house was _so_ peaceful and safe, but he didn't really belong here – then again did he really belong anywhere? He had thought for a time that he belonged with Hercules and Pythagoras (he carefully avoided referring to it as home – wasn't sure he could take the spiralling feeling that was associated with that word anymore) but Hercules had ensured that he realised that he had been wrong. It always came down to the same problem in the end. No matter where he went he always took himself – and always managed to mess things up in the long run. Perhaps he would be better to forget the notion of having friends at all. Perhaps he would be better off going to live in a cave on his own somewhere like Medusa. Poor Medusa. He had _known_ what would happen to her. Should have been able to prevent it. He'd failed her just like he always failed everyone else. No wonder no-one ever stayed for long – he was too much of a failure for anyone to care.

But if that were true then why did Pythagoras keep appearing? Jason couldn't quite work out what was going on. By now he had come to the conclusion that Pythagoras was not related to the voices in his head – was really here some of the time – but he couldn't work out why. Perhaps he really did care in some way. But then, Pythagoras cared about most people – about most creatures. You had to be something truly awful to make it onto the list of creatures that the mathematician disapproved of and Jason hoped that he hadn't yet done anything bad enough to warrant inclusion on that list. But there was still time, he reminded himself. Sooner or later he was bound to mess up badly enough that even the gentle genius would wash his hands of him. It would be better to leave before that happened. But where was he to go? He had no ties in this world. No other friends to help him out. Nowhere to go. He sighed silently once again.

Outside the window the bustle of everyday life in Atlantis continued. The rich rubbed unwilling shoulders with the poor; the weak with the strong; the ugly aspects of life with the beautiful.

"You always were such a ridiculously pretty boy," the voice taunted him. "Always teasing. Always leading people on."

Jason's breath caught in his throat. Over the last few days the voices had begun to fade away a little, helped on their way by Meriones' unfailing kindness and patience and Pythagoras' calming tonics – although the one from last night had tasted absolutely vile. Jason had drunk it unthinkingly at Meriones' gently delivered order but he would know the smell now and wouldn't be making that mistake again, no matter how good a night's sleep it had given him or how easy it was to do as he was told. He paused. His mind had been wandering again. What had he been thinking about?

"A pretty little airhead," the voice goaded. "Can't even keep a simple thought in his head."

Jason felt his breath quickening, his anxiety rising. The voices still caught him unawares at times, and when they came they drove the real world completely out of his head – catching him in a loop of bad memories and self-loathing. This voice was the worst though. This was the one he had been running from for years. The one whose very presence made him feel sick. And it had a name. A name he had tried so hard to forget. It had once upon a time been called Hector. Jason closed his eyes against the sudden deluge of memory, the real world fading away to nothing as the past roared in his head. He let his head drop forward until it rested on his bent knees, shoulders heaving with his breathing, and arms trembling where they were clasped around his legs.

"Jason?" He heard Pythagoras' voice dimly, as though through water. "Are you alright?"

He forced his head up and his eyes open, turning towards his friend's voice. Pythagoras stood just a few feet away, his face concerned and his hands clasped to keep himself from reaching out towards his friend physically. He was here and he was real. Jason anchored himself to that, unbelievably grateful to the mathematician for being the one solid thing he could cling to right at this moment – could use to fight the demons in his head away.

On the other side of the room, Hercules was standing awkwardly, unsure of his welcome in this house; unsure of what to do. Nearby Meriones stood with his arms folded across his chest, waiting to see what his old friend was going to do or say; waiting to see if he would have to kick the burly wrestler out once again. The air between the two men crackled with tension. Hercules looked past his giant friend towards the two boys in the window. Pythagoras had turned towards him with a mute appeal in his blue eyes. Hercules nodded to himself. Both his boys needed his strength and support at the moment and he was damn well going to provide it if it was the last thing he did. He took a deep breath and turned back to Meriones.

"I'm sorry," he growled bluntly. "I've been foolish. Very foolish. No matter how much thought I was being provoked I should never have lost my temper with him," he nodded towards Jason, "and I should never have even thought he might be sulking – putting things on. It isn't in Jason's nature and I should have remembered that. Should have known better. I haven't got any excuses. I acted badly and hurt two of the three people I'm most fond of in this world. I'm sorry and I want to help now – should have been helping from the start instead of feeling sorry for myself."

Meriones raised an eyebrow, never changing expression.

"Yes you should," he said, his tone still a little cold. Over the last few days he had been surprised to discover the strength of his own feelings towards the two boys – particularly the currently vulnerable young man sitting in the window if he was being honest with himself – and he felt the need to protect them both – even from his old friend. Hercules' words were all well and good but Meriones would need to see some evidence that he meant what he said in his actions before he would completely trust the man again.

Hercules sighed. He had not expected to be forgiven easily. Being honest he had known that apologising to Pythagoras would be the easy part. The mathematician was too gentle and too forgiving to hold a grudge for long. Meriones, on the other hand, would be a much harder person to win over. They had been friends for more years than either of them would care to remember and knew each other only too well – although they had drifted apart over the years, becoming little more than casual drinking acquaintances until the incident with Dakos had re-forged their bond. Meriones was a bluff, larger than life, fun loving, and jolly drunkard with a whip-sharp mind, but those who earned his ire learned to their cost that he was a formidable opponent.

"I don't really deserve to be forgiven," Hercules rumbled softly. "What I did was unforgivable. And I'll understand if you don't want me here. But I would like to help in any way I can. Jason is special. We all know it. All I ask is for the chance to ask for his forgiveness myself – once he's more himself that is."

Meriones looked hard at Hercules. He had never seen the burly wrestler look so serious or so contrite. He sighed. It wasn't really his place to judge the man, but he would watch carefully and the first time he saw Hercules stepping over the mark he would make him leave – possibly for good. He nodded.

"Very well," he said.

"I still don't understand what Jason was thinking by agreeing to try to free Alektryon though," Hercules murmured to the enormous merchant. "It makes no sense."

"I'm not sure he was thinking," Meriones said. "From what you and Pythagoras have told me his behaviour for days had been bordering on irrational. He was teetering on a knife edge and only needed one final push to knock him over."

Hercules winced, knowing that _he_ had been the one to deliver that final push.

"I can't help feeling there's more though," Meriones rumbled quietly. "Something we are missing. Some of the things Pythagoras told me Jason said were decidedly odd. Alektryon's attack was what started all this but I can't help feeling that there is something else that has made Jason withdraw so deeply into himself. But I don't yet know what that could be."

Hercules frowned, trying to think back over the last few weeks.

"Is it important?" he murmured.

"Possibly," Meriones answered. "If we can work out why Jason has reacted like this it might help us to help him."

Hercules grunted and moved towards the window. It was extremely disconcerting, he decided, to see the usually active Jason so quiet, still and withdrawn. The young man was still watching Pythagoras with apparently little interest, although the faint tremors were still running through his frame – mute testament to the lad's level of anxiety. As Hercules watched, Pythagoras took a slow step towards his friend, as though he were approaching an animal caught in a trap. Suddenly the middle of the young mathematician's tunic writhed and a faint mewling could be heard. Pythagoras looked down almost in surprise.

"I'd forgotten you were there," he murmured, fishing inside his tunic and pulling out a slightly irate Isosceles. He carefully set the little white kitten on the floor.

Isosceles did not appear to be impressed either with her mode of transportation or her new surroundings. She hissed with her ears dropped flat and cringed back as she looked around the room, appearing smaller than ever. Then she spotted Jason. Her person was here. She scuttled across the floor as fast as her tiny legs could carry her and tried to jump up onto the window seat. Unfortunately she was far too small and missed the mark by a long way. Then a tanned hand reached down and grabbed her securely, lifting her up onto the seat. Jason plonked her onto his lap and bent over her, stroking her softly as she nuzzled his fingers. Pythagoras huffed out his held breath. It had worked. The gamble he had taken in bringing the kitten here had worked and the presence of the tiny feline had prompted a response from Jason that far exceeded what he had hoped for. He sighed, pleased that he had found yet another way to break through the walls surrounding his friend. As he watched, Jason settled back comfortably on the window seat, Isosceles ensconced securely on his lap, curled up and purring, occasionally reaching out a soft paw to pat the young man's hand whenever he stopped stroking her – both of them looking out of the window lazily. The corners of Jason's mouth twitched up as the kitten nuzzled his fingers and for the first time in days his friends saw him start to smile.


	21. Chapter 21

A/N Thank you for the (extremely) quick reviews on the last chapter... now here is the next one.

Two chapters in one day... that's a record that I'll probably never manage again! :-)

Please leave me a note or two if you like it.

* * *

All in all the day could have gone a lot worse, Hercules mused as he sat at the table in Meriones' kitchen, a goblet of wine in his hand. It was, he had to admit, a particularly good wine. But then he would expect no less from his old friend. As a merchant who essentially specialised in imported goods (although Hercules was still not sure _exactly_ what his old friend did for a living) Meriones had access to the best vintages available in Atlantis. It certainly beat the ditch water that Hercules had been drinking over the last few days hands down.

For the first couple of hours Hercules had been only too aware that Meriones was watching him like a hawk. Waiting for some sign that he was going to upset Jason again. But the burly wrestler had no intention of letting that happen. Now that he was focussed on making sure that he played his own part in bringing Jason home, he planned to do everything in his power to prevent the lad from being hurt again. After a while, though, Meriones had been forced to go out for a time and had left with some trepidation. He had returned in the late morning and was pleasantly surprised to see that there appeared to have been no sudden storms in his absence. Not long after he had come home Cassie and her father had arrived and Hercules had taken Pythagoras off to a local inn to find some food – partly so that Jason was not overwhelmed by the number of people in the room and partly to give Pythagoras a much needed break. It was becoming increasingly clear to Hercules that the young genius had very nearly been at breaking point himself the day before and the big man wanted to ensure that that did not happen. If it meant dragging the lad away for a break now and then and forcing him to eat and sleep then Hercules was going to do it. Pythagoras spent so much time worrying about others and looking after their needs that he was often in danger of neglecting himself. That was one way in which his two boys were very alike, Hercules thought, taking another long sip of wine.

By the time Hercules had allowed Pythagoras to return to Meriones' house, Cassie and Talos had left. Meriones had had to go to his business meeting with Onias shortly after and there had been no time to ask him what had happened with the little girl and her father. Hercules made a mental note to tackle his gigantic friend later. Before he had left Meriones had invited both of them (and the kitten) to spend the night and, now that Hercules was not out drinking himself into oblivion, Pythagoras had gratefully accepted, feeling that the more time they spent with Jason the more likely he was to respond to them. The lad himself had been sitting on that window seat he seemed to like so much when they had arrived back from the tavern, with the kitten still on his lap. He had been there ever since, staring out through the window at the streets below – although it was now so dark that Hercules could not begin to imagine what the lad could actually see.

Across the table Pythagoras was industriously working, drawing triangles on a piece of parchment and occasionally stopping to make a note alongside one. Hercules would never begin to pretend to understand what went on in the blonde boy's head – or what the fascination with triangles was. Personally he preferred to think of nice curves rather than sharp angles – they reminded him of a luscious, ripe, full-bodied woman. Then his thoughts turned to Medusa – as they always did when he thought of women these days – and he sighed. Pythagoras looked up with a frown.

"Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," Hercules replied shortly. "I was just thinking of Medusa."

Pythagoras reached out across the table and placed a warm hand on his older friend's arm.

"We will find a cure for Medusa," he said earnestly.

"I know," Hercules responded, attempting to smile and taking another sip of wine.

Pythagoras looked long and hard at him. Reassured that his old friend was simply a little pensive tonight and was not slipping back towards the self-destructive behaviour that he sometimes indulged in, the young blonde turned back to his work. He was nearly there; nearly at some ground breaking conclusion, he was sure of it. The numbers and letters danced tantalisingly before his eyes and sometimes he thought that all he really had to do was to reach out and touch them and all would become clear. Sighing, he pushed the parchment away. Close as he was to an answer, other more pressing problems kept intruding into his mind and he found himself once again feeling the first stirrings of an incipient headache. Better to put the work to one side now and ward off the headache if at all possible. Then he could return to it with fresh eyes and a clear mind. He looked speculatively at Hercules. The big man was still nursing his cup of wine and staring into space pensively, his eyes lost in thought as his mind focussed on his lost love. Hercules could use a distraction, Pythagoras decided, and so could he. He reached into his bag and produced his Tilia board.

"Could we have a game?" he asked timidly.

Hercules looked at him, startled out of his thoughts. Then he smiled. Tilia was not really his game – not something he was good at – but if Pythagoras wanted to play it then he was more than willing to give it a go. Right now the mathematician's happiness was of paramount importance to his older friend, and Hercules was willing to do whatever it took to ease the lad's burden and raise his spirits.

"Of course," he said.

Pythagoras smiled happily and moved to set up the board. Tilia was not a game that he played often with Hercules, knowing that the big man preferred games of chance to ones of logic. Over the past few months, however, it had become something he had grown used to playing with Jason on a regular basis – it had almost become a little ritual for them whenever they were both at home in the evening and Hercules was at the tavern. He had been surprised by how quickly his brunette friend had picked up the game and by now they were fairly evenly matched. Hercules, however, had never been quite so skilful at playing Tilia, and Pythagoras decided that he would have to tone down his own abilities to allow Hercules to enjoy the game as well – after all no-one liked losing all the time.

As Pythagoras set up the board, Hercules went and fetched a second goblet for the mathematician, pouring him some of the excellent wine as well. He knew that the blonde had issues with the consumption of excess alcohol but that did not mean that the lad did not enjoy the occasional cup or two and this wine really was superior – it would do the lad good to relax a bit and the combination of a game he enjoyed and a cup of good wine might help him to do so. While he was there the big man also fixed up a couple of bowls with snacks for them to nibble on. They had decided that it would be rude to have supper before Meriones returned but Hercules knew that the giant would not mind them having a light bite to eat while they waited. Task accomplished, he returned to the table and settled in for a game.

By the time they were on the third game, Hercules was nearly ready to throw his hands up in the air in frustration. He just didn't understand this game properly; could not see the patterns of the counters that were quite clearly so obvious to his young companion. Pythagoras was being incredibly patient with him (and wasn't that just like the lad?) and was clearly not playing to the best of his ability, but he was still trouncing Hercules at every turn. Growling with frustration the big man put his hand on a counter to move it, only to find that he was stopped by a tanned hand grabbing his wrist gently. Both he and Pythagoras looked up from the board in astonishment. Neither of them had heard Jason approach; neither of them had thought he would. The young brunette had appeared to neither know, nor care, about their presence for most of the day, lost in his own thoughts; lost in his own head.

Jason had spent most of the day trying to work out why Hercules was there. As far as he was concerned the big man had made it absolutely clear that he never wanted to see Jason again, and yet here he was, clearly pleased to see Jason and apparently worried about him if the look on his face was anything to go by. Actually Pythagoras usually looked worried these days too. Jason wanted to reassure them both; wanted to explain that he was _trying_ to get his head sorted out, but his brain and his mouth didn't seem to want to talk to each other anymore and no words came. It was funny, he thought, but the voices he had been hearing for days seemed much less real when his friends were there (could he really still call them his friends?), and he felt more grounded, more real, than he had in days. The kitten on his lap had been warm and comforting under his hand, a purring little reminder of the world around him; a reminder not to get too lost in his own head. As darkness had come on and the street outside had faded into the night he had focussed on the small creature as his mind had wandered. Perhaps – if his friends were indeed still his friends – he might actually be allowed to stay? He knew deep down that he would never be good enough for them – would always mess things up – but maybe they could forgive that; maybe they might be willing to let him hang around. At the very least it might mean that he didn't have to leave Atlantis even if they were unwilling for him to return to their home – that they would still be willing to be friendly to him. The thought was almost comforting. Looking back around the living room it had suddenly come to him that he was alone; that he only had the cat for company. And equally suddenly he had been hit by a wave of loneliness. Perhaps he should test out just how willing Hercules and Pythagoras were to accept his presence. Decision made he had stood up, unceremoniously dumping Isosceles onto the floor accidentally in the process (where she glared at him and gave an annoyed squeak), and padded on bare feet into the kitchen. Coming up silently behind Hercules, his eyes had been drawn to the game the other two were playing. A dozen memories of sitting and playing this game with Pythagoras on long evenings, sitting out on the balcony or warmly ensconced in the kitchen depending on the temperature outside, hit him at once. This was a game he knew only too well. Hercules was about to make the wrong move; about to make a losing move. The game was not lost yet although the big man was clearly losing at the moment. Without thinking Jason reached out a hand and grasped Hercules' wrist, almost compelled to stop his big friend making a disastrous move.

Hercules looked up at the young man in astonishment. Jason's eyes were on the Tilia board, his brow furrowed with concentration and Hercules could almost swear he saw the gears moving in the lad's head. Jason let go of Hercules' wrist and picked up a counter, carefully moving it to a new place. Hercules frowned, he couldn't see why the boy had made that move, although he seemed sure of himself. Without warning Jason looked up from the board and his eyes widened as though he suddenly realised what he had done. Before the lad could retreat again, before he could run away from them in any way, Hercules smiled in his usual open and friendly manner and moved up on the bench, gesturing for Jason to sit. The young man stared at him wide eyed, hovering right on the edge of bolting.

"Sit down," Hercules said gently but firmly. "The game needs finishing and you're better at it than I am."

Jason sat carefully and tentatively, his eyes returning once again to the Tilia board. As the game progressed, Hercules felt him edging closer until they were touching at shoulder and hip. The big man smiled softly but did not draw any attention to the fact. He glanced up to see Pythagoras watching them speculatively, a question on his lips, and silently gestured for the young genius to keep quiet. By the time the two boys were on their second game, both so caught up in what they were doing that they had all but tuned out the rest of the world, Hercules decided to take a risk and carefully but apparently casually slipped an arm around the dark haired lad's shoulders, although he made sure to keep his eyes on the game casting only sly sidelong looks at the young man beside him. At the first touch of his arm, Jason went rigid. Hercules silently swore, kicking himself for his own impatience and hoping he had not managed to ruin any gains they had made. He turned slightly to see Jason looking at him, his hazel eyes huge. He didn't flinch, though, and he didn't run – both of which Hercules took as a good sign.

"Hercules," Pythagoras hissed, worried that Jason was on the verge of another panic attack.

"It's alright," Hercules answered, never taking his eyes from Jason, "I was just wondering if you would like some wine?" He addressed his question to the brunette.

He could pinpoint the exact moment when the tension started to go out of his young friend. Jason nodded before turning back to the game. Hercules removed his arm, pleased that Jason had not completely rebuffed the attempt at physical contact, and got up to fetch a third goblet and replenish the snacks. Placing the wine down near his young brunette friend, he pushed a bowl of snacks towards the lad and nodded at them in a friendly manner.

"Thought you might be a bit peckish," he said quietly. "I could eat a horse myself." He grabbed a chunk of cheese and started to eat with gusto.

"And probably have," Pythagoras added sardonically. "I have never met a man whose heart and head were so ruled by his stomach."

"Oi," Hercules objected, "I'll have you know that I have never eaten a horse."

"Why?" asked Pythagoras. "Couldn't you find one large enough to match your appetite?"

Hercules subsided into silence after muttering about impudent mathematicians who could find their own snacks next time. He was gratified to see Jason's hand snake out almost absently and grab an apple. The lad's stomach had been growling for the last half an hour or so, so the big man was pleased to see him nibbling distractedly on the apple as he pondered his next move on the Tilia board. It was with some surprise that Hercules realised just how evenly matched his two boys were in this game. Pythagoras was so exceptionally clever – so utterly brilliant – that it was sometimes hard to remember that Jason was actually a very intelligent and perceptive young man too. His lack of knowledge of the culture and customs of Atlantis tended to make people think he was ignorant and stupid but in actual fact he learned fast and had a quick and retentive mind and Hercules was sometimes surprised by just how quickly the lad picked up unfamiliar things. This game was an obvious example, as was the fact that in a few short months Jason had gone from being a complete novice with a sword to being fairly competent – managing to beat men who had been practicing all their lives.

Once both boys were fully engaged in the game once more, Hercules slipped his arm casually back around Jason's shoulders. He was pleased to note that the lad did not immediately stiffen this time, but turned towards him with a question in his eyes.

"I'm sorry Jason," Hercules said softly. "What happened the other night should never have happened. I would never want to hurt either of you boys and what I said was inexcusable. I shouldn't have suggested that you should leave. I lost my temper and I didn't really mean what I was saying. I regretted it as soon as you ran out. You can ask Pythagoras."

"It's true," Pythagoras confirmed. "Hercules was beside himself as soon as he thought about what he had said. He tried to find you to apologise that night…. we both did."

Hercules wasn't sure how much of what he was saying was getting through to the young man at his side, but as Jason had still made no attempt to pull away he ploughed on.

"Your place is here. With us. We're a family and whatever else happens I want you to remember that. If you ever want to leave then we won't stop you but I don't want you to ever think that you have to leave; that you're not wanted. You and him," he gestured at the suddenly wide eyed Pythagoras, "make me feel older than the hills some days…. and you're making me lose what little hair I have…. and every time you decide to rescue some damsel in distress it's all I can do not to tie you down or strangle you…. but the pair of you are without doubt the most welcome nuisances that could have come into my life."

Jason's mind reeled. After everything that had happened, everything he had believed, to hear Hercules describe the three of them as a family was almost like being in a dream. But if this _was_ a dream then he really didn't want to wake up. Almost unconsciously he wriggled into that heavy, comforting, one-armed embrace that Hercules was giving him. Relishing the warmth he felt coming from the big man. Then he paused. Hadn't he heard Pythagoras say that they weren't family? He looked from Pythagoras to Hercules, his confusion written plainly in his eyes.

Hercules smiled reassuringly and gave Jason's shoulders an extra squeeze, before nodding back towards the game board.

"I think you might actually be beating him," he noted. "He must be losing some of that brainpower if you can beat him so easily."

Pythagoras gave an annoyed squeak and turned his own attention back to the game. Within minutes both boys were once again playing intently. Hercules smiled and sipped his wine.

By the time Meriones returned from his business meeting, Hercules had lost count of the number of games that had been played and of the score. It didn't really matter which lad was currently leading, however. What mattered to him was that, while still withdrawn, Jason _was_ interacting; was engaging with them; was mentally here; and was not rejecting their advances. He looked up as the giant merchant came in, smiled and nodded in greeting. Meriones stopped in the doorway and stood watching them open-mouthed. Then a slow smile of pleasure spread across his face as he took in the domestic scene before him, watching the two boys playing a board game while his old friend sipped at some wine, with his arm wrapped securely around one of his boy's shoulders. Allowing Hercules to come back here had been a risk – and might continue to be a risk given how volatile his temper could be and how vulnerable Jason currently was. But it appeared to have been a risk that had for the time being paid off. He slipped out of his over-mantle and made his way to the table.

"So this is what you are all doing while I am hard at work," he said jovially.

Hercules shrugged.

"It seemed like a good idea," he said.

Meriones laughed.

"Indeed it was, my friend," he rumbled. "Allow me to fetch a cup and I will join you. I have some dice that are itching to be thrown."

"I am not playing with your dodgy dice," Hercules stated.

Meriones pretended to look hurt.

"There is nothing wrong with my dice," he protested.

"One of them had three sixes!" Hercules exclaimed.

"That is a lot of sixes," Pythagoras murmured.

"Exactly," Hercules said firmly.

Meriones laughed again.

"My friend," he said expansively. "How can you believe I would ever cheat you?"

"Because I know you," Hercules sniffed. "I think it would be far safer if you and I played knucklebones."

Meriones smiled.

"As you wish," he said. "Would you care for a wager?"

* * *

It was later in the evening, much later, when Hercules and Meriones sat down together in almost comfortable companionship to play at dice. Dinner was long since over and both of the younger men had been safely despatched to bed. By the end of the meal Pythagoras had been struggling to keep his eyes open, almost nodding off over his food. The stresses and worries of the last few days had finally caught up with the lad and having had little or no sleep the previous night he had been exhausted and had taken little persuasion to seek his bed. Jason had been a whole other story, however. Although it was clear that he was still detached – still not fully functioning in the real world – he was far less dazed than he had been just a couple of days ago and his headstrong nature was beginning to reappear. The dark rings around the lad's eyes spoke of his need for rest, yet Jason had seemed somewhat reluctant to go to bed. Meriones had presumed it was because the young man was not sleeping well – although it was unclear whether this was the result of nightmares or insomnia (and Jason's ongoing insomnia was something that Hercules fully intended to investigate once the lad was back to normal – having spoken with Pythagoras, the two of them had come to the conclusion that Jason's sleeping habits were not healthy at the best of times – something which his friends now intended to address). The giant had therefore tried to give the lad a sleeping draught – one which Pythagoras had concocted the night before, made of chamomile and valerian. Jason had been so docile over the past few days that Meriones had been startled when the boy had shaken his head and put his hands behind his back, flatly refusing to drink what he had been offered. The giant had pressed the cup on the lad, instructing him gently but firmly to drink it. Jason _had_ taken the cup but had tipped it into a nearby vase as soon as Meriones' back was turned. Hercules had fought the urge to laugh out loud. While he supposed he _should_ be backing his old friend it was reassuring to see that Jason was regaining his impudence and stubbornness, and, Hercules noted, was clearly quite capable of being devious if the occasion demanded it. He smiled to himself even now. Meriones might have a good handle on dealing with Jason when he was completely docile but he clearly had no idea how to deal with a headstrong, wilful and devious Jason.

Of course the lad had gone off to bed eventually, accompanied by his kitten, but Hercules could foresee some interesting battles of wills cropping up as Jason became himself again. He grinned and took a deep drink from his cup. Meriones half-frowned as he threw the dice, giving Hercules a quizzical look.

"Why are you so happy?" he asked.

Hercules shrugged.

"It's been a good day," he said.

The dice landed as a three and both men cheered quietly, only too aware of the boys sleeping in the adjoining rooms.

"It has indeed, my friend," Meriones said handing the dice to his friend. "And I even managed to get the better of that pompous little ass, Onias. I stand to make a lot of profit from his perfumes."

Hercules threw a four.

"Luck," Meriones stated.

"Skill," Hercules answered. He stood up from the table and smiled.

"Where are you going?" Meriones asked.

"To check on the children."

The giant merchant raised one eyebrow.

"You do know they would both skin you alive if they ever heard you call them children?" he asked.

"Just as well they can't hear me then, isn't it," Hercules countered with a grin.

Meriones laughed and picked up his cup.

"I'll remind you that you said that the next time I need a favour," he remarked.

Hercules walked away, shaking his head in amusement. He knew that both the boys would object to him referring to them as children when in actual fact they were both adults of a few years standing, but there were times when their mutual innocence of the ways of the world made them seem that way to the more experienced and world weary wrestler. When you got right down to it he was old enough to be the father of both boys, although he shuddered to think that he was actually that old. Where had the years gone? It only seemed like five minutes since he was their age and yet he couldn't ever remember being that innocent, that full of life. Perhaps he had just been born old. An old soul his father would have said. His father had been dead these many years since and yet Hercules could still remember the wonderful stories the man had told and how precious those few minutes every night had been when his father had tucked him into bed and told him his tales; those last few minutes before sleep had been the most wonderful moments of his childhood, when his father's words had transported him to far off places and turned him into the hero of a hundred legends as he drifted off into peaceful slumber. Hercules wondered if either of the boys had ever had that; had ever had someone simply telling them a bedtime story. He suspected not. Pythagoras' father had been too drunk and too violent to spend time regaling his eldest son with tales, and Jason…. exactly _who_ had Jason had who would have told him a bedtime story? Hercules suspected that the answer was probably no-one. He sighed at the injustice of life. It seemed monumentally unfair somehow that neither of these wonderfully frustrating, utterly loveable lads had really had any sort of childhood as far as the big man could tell.

Picking up a lit lantern from a shelf, he made his way into the first bedroom. Pythagoras slept the sleep of the just – deep and peaceful. The worry lines that had begun to seem etched onto his forehead in his waking hours had smoothed themselves out in sleep, leaving his face young and peaceful. He slept sprawled out on his stomach on the bed, a tangle of long limbs that wound themselves into the sheets. Hercules shook his head ruefully and moved to straighten out the covers, carefully removing the single sandal that Pythagoras in his exhaustion and eagerness to get to bed had forgotten to take off his foot. As the big man left the room, he paused for a moment in the doorway, listening to the soft snores that emanated from the mathematician and smiled to himself.

The second room was still lit, much to Hercules' surprise. A single candle sat guttering on the table at the bedside, its wick almost spent. Clearly the occupant of this room had fallen asleep before he could blow it out. And looking around the room Hercules would not even have to have been told who had been using it for the last few days. Jason could not be tidy to save his life, although it had to be said that this _was_ tidier than his room at home – but Hercules suspected that that was simply because he had yet to take a great deal of interest in his surroundings. As it was the lad's sandals were strewn in the middle of the floor, just where someone could trip over them, and his tunic was hanging haphazardly off the end of the bed. Hercules shook his head in fond exasperation as he stooped to tidy up both tunic and sandals, and to tuck the errant foot that always seemed to manage to wriggle its way out of bed back under the covers. Jason was stretched out on his back with one tanned arm curled above his head. It was a position that the burly wrestler had seen him sleep in so many times that his breath caught in his throat at the sheer normality of it at a time when little else was normal. Despite the relative coolness of the night, with the wind creating a chill draught through the room, the lad slept with the covers pooled around his waist. Isosceles had curled up on Jason's bare chest and was lying, apparently fast asleep, with one tiny paw stretched out towards the lad's face, as though she was trying to ensure he was still there and to provide him with comfort. As Hercules approached, however, her eyes opened and she stared at the older man, daring him to try to move her. Hercules smiled again and scratched between the small creature's ears – a silent promise that she could rest where she was undisturbed by him. As with Pythagoras, he smoothed the covers out as best he could over Jason, trying to make sure that the young man would be warm enough throughout the long night. Standing, he became aware of a pair of very drowsy hazel eyes watching him sleepily.

"It's alright Jason," he said softly. "Just go back to sleep."

With a soft sigh, Jason's eyes drifted shut again, slipping back into sleep easily. Hercules wasn't actually sure he had ever really been awake. Smiling to himself again, the burly wrestler let his hand hover over the dark curls for a moment, wanting to reassure himself that the lad was really here but not wanting to wake him from what appeared to be much needed sleep. Then turning he blew out the candle at the bedside and, collecting his lamp as he went, slipped back out through the living area and into the kitchen.

Meriones was waiting for him.

"Well?" he asked.

"Both asleep," Hercules answered. "They both need it."

Meriones smiled and nodded.

"Yes," he agreed. "Pythagoras has been under too much pressure these last few days." He looked hard at Hercules.

"I know," the big man admitted, "and I know it's my fault. But I promise things will get better. I won't let the boy down like that again."

"Good," Meriones stated. He rattled the dice and grinned at his old friend. "Another round before bed?" he asked.

* * *

Pythagoras was late out of bed the next morning. As he awoke he stretched, cat-like. For some time he stayed where he was, luxuriating in the opportunity to have a lie in, simply too comfortable on the soft bed to move. Finally hunger and the sound of voices coming from the next rooms drove him out of bed and he rose and looked about the room for his sandals, trying to smooth down his curls with one hand as he did.

Jason was sitting back in the window seat with Isosceles curled around his neck, her body lying on his shoulders. Hercules and Meriones were bustling around the kitchen preparing breakfast – or at least Meriones was preparing breakfast. Hercules, in his own inimitable style, was trying to sample everything Meriones was preparing, earning himself a stern look from the giant and a wrap across the knuckles from his spoon. Hercules pouted, sucking at his abused knuckles and looking mournfully at the food. Pythagoras tried and failed to restrain his laugh – some things never changed and Hercules trying to steal a bit more breakfast was one of them. At the sound Hercules looked up.

"Good morning," he said, "or should that be afternoon? We thought you were going to sleep all day."

Pythagoras blushed, embarrassed that his friends had had to wait for him to get up to have breakfast.

"Don't tease him," Meriones rumbled. "He was clearly tired. Besides you have not been up all that long yourself." He turned towards Pythagoras. "It is as well you are up now though. We will all have a good breakfast together."

He called for Jason to come and join them in the dining room. Pythagoras noticed with some surprise the little eye roll Jason gave as he reluctantly left his perch. What was so interesting about the view from that particular window, Pythagoras had yet to fathom. Perhaps that was a subject for after breakfast though, he mused as he followed his friends into the dining room and prepared to start his day.


	22. Chapter 22

A/N A big thank you to all those of you who have stuck with the story so far and an especially big thanks to those who reviewed the last two chapter. I tend to get a bit disheartened at times and wonder if it's worth going on with the story and if it's really any good - so to hear that there are still people enjoying it is wonderful :-)

I don't own Atlantis and I never have... although I _do_ own this story! Please drop me a word or two if you think it's any good!

* * *

Meriones' breakfast spreads were substantial and reflected both his massive size and his extensive travels. His tastes in food certainly ranged from the mundane – those breakfast foods regularly consumed by the population of Atlantis – to the distinctly exotic. Meriones himself seemed to take most pleasure from a dish which looked deceptively mild but was actually so spicy that it set Pythagoras choking and spluttering as he reached for the water jug, his usually pale complexion turned bright red. The giant merchant laughed in a friendly manner at the young mathematician's reaction.

"It is a Persian dish," he said. "I think the city it comes from was holding a competition to see who could light the biggest fire in their companion's bellies. If you think that is too hot do not try this one," he gestured towards another innocuous looking dish.

"You have travelled to Persia?" Pythagoras asked, genuinely curious.

"When I was younger, yes. My father arranged for me to be apprenticed to a merchant from the island of Rhodes when I was little more than a boy. The merchant was growing old and no longer wished to travel but still traded extensively with Persia. As I grew to understand the business more and as he came to trust me more, the old man often sent me to Persepolis, Pasargadae, Susa and Ecbatana on his behalf. I developed a taste for the food – I did not have much choice really since it was all there was to eat – and learned to cook it to suit my own tastes. It is many years now since I have needed to visit Persia myself and the threat of war between Athens and Persia has made travel difficult, but I still remember my journeys there with fondness and still enjoy the cuisine."

Even without the two spicier dishes that Meriones was devouring with such relish, there was still enough food on the table for all of them to eat their fill – even the perpetually hungry Hercules. It was with some displeasure then that the big man noticed that Jason was doing no more than pick at the food on his plate, his dark head bowed. Hercules exchanged a look with Pythagoras. The young genius had told him over breakfast yesterday that their other friend was not exactly eating a healthy amount. Still that was nothing unusual as far as Jason was concerned. Whenever the lad was worked up or upset the first thing that disappeared was his appetite. Hercules had increasingly nagged him about it over the last few months. It was something he worried about with both the boys. Neither of them could really afford to lose much weight. Jason might be muscular but take that away and he was actually quite slender and Hercules had no wish to see him become as skinny as he had a few months earlier after the incident with Dakos. Looking at the young man now picking at his breakfast with his eyes tired and darkly ringed, the big man got an unpleasant feeling of deja-vu.

Eventually the lad gave up any pretence of eating and just sat still, staring at his plate. Before Hercules could say anything, before he could try to cajole Jason into eating a little more or flat out nag him, he heard Meriones clearing his throat meaningfully and looked across at his old friend to see the giant staring at Jason with an expression of disapproval.

"Jason," the giant rumbled firmly, "you need to eat more."

Jason looked up, startled out of his own thoughts. He had gone to sleep well enough last night but had awoken in the middle of the night and spent several hours awake, staring at the ceiling in the darkness, sleeping only fitfully at best. Yesterday evening felt a long time ago – rather like a pleasant dream. For a short time it had felt so normal, so right, sitting and playing Tilia with Pythagoras, and Hercules' arm around his shoulders had been so comforting – it had felt like coming home. Hercules had said they were family (and how many years growing up had he _longed_ to hear someone say those words?), that he belonged with them, and he'd sounded so sincere, as though he really meant it. But hadn't he told Jason to leave before? And he'd sounded like he meant that too, and Pythagoras had said that they weren't a family. In the hours before dawn these thoughts had rolled around and around in his head, his mind trying to convince him that he could not have heard what he thought he had heard; that his friends could not really want him. Jason had dropped back to sleep sometime before dawn and had awoken from the nightmares of his past into a bright morning, his head pounding as the headache that seemed to have been plaguing him for days – a constant dull throb in the back of his mind – had returned and increased in strength. He was upset and anxious and his stomach had tied itself into painful knots in response. Sitting in the window and looking out at the world with the purring kitten lying across his shoulders had helped a little – had helped him to remember that there was world out there and no matter what happened it was still going on as normal. He longed for fresh air more than anything but the thought of being around other people, of their noise competing with the babble in his head, was almost enough to make him shudder. Leaving the window having just got comfortable had been the last thing he had felt like doing and the thought of eating breakfast had turned his stomach, making it clench ever more painfully. The smell alone had been enough to make him feel nauseous and so he had sat picking at the food that Pythagoras put in front of him. Now Meriones was demanding he ate more. Jason shook his head firmly and looked back down at the floor.

Meriones stared at the young man incredulously for a moment. While he knew that Hercules had told him of Jason's stubborn and headstrong nature, and to a certain extent had witnessed it himself in the past, he had been unprepared for the lad to show a spark of defiance now, given how easily he had obeyed gently given commands over the last few days. The giant frowned. Jason had scarcely eaten enough in the last few days to keep a bird alive in his opinion, but he had at least always eaten _something_ when prompted. Meriones was certainly not willing to accept him eating next to nothing now though – it simply wasn't healthy. He tapped the plate in front of the boy.

"Eat," he repeated, his voice gentle but authoritative.

Jason glared at him in frustration. Why couldn't anyone understand that he wasn't trying to be difficult, he just really didn't feel like eating? His stomach churned and heaved at the thought of food. He nearly opened his mouth to try to explain but the words just wouldn't seem to come and he was forced to clamp his teeth shut in an attempt to force the bile rising in his throat back down. The throbbing in his head increased even more and he felt his heart start to pound as his stomach rolled. Jason just wanted to make Meriones understand but the man was still looking at him expectantly. He shook his head a little more forcefully and sighed, thoroughly frustrated.

Meriones' eyes narrowed a little. He had known that sooner or later Jason would start refusing to do as he was asked but he had hoped that the lad would be a little less detached and distracted when it happened – ideally even talking. As things were he still appeared to be in a world of his own most of the time and as yet had shown no real inclination to speak. Right at this second he was fully there with them in the room though and clearly not inclined to obey an instruction. Trust Jason to do things the hard way, Meriones thought humourlessly. His reaction to the request that the giant had made of him this time did not change the fact that he needed to eat though, but perhaps a change of tactics was needed. Meriones gently pushed the plate a little closer to the young man.

"Just have a couple more bites," he said coaxingly. "That's not unreasonable is it?"

Jason glared, the hostility growing in his hazel eyes. No-one understood and he couldn't seem to make them understand. His frustration at himself grew. Why couldn't he just _say_ what he wanted? Tell them how he was feeling. The pounding in his chest grew and the pressure in his head became almost unbearable, until he thought he might actually fly apart. And they were all _watching_ him; Meriones expectantly, Hercules frowning and Pythagoras looking worried. Jason suddenly felt trapped; hemmed in on all sides. It wasn't fair. Why couldn't they just leave him alone? Something inside him snapped and he swept the plate off the table, where it fell to the floor with a resounding crash. Pushing himself to his feet, Jason raced out of the room, slamming the door behind him as he went.

For a moment after his departure there was complete stunned silence. Then Pythagoras found his voice.

"Hercules, you know how you have always said that when Jason wandered off alone for hours he was having a strop?" he said in a neutral tone.

"Yes?" the big man answered.

"Well I think you might have been wrong," Pythagoras declared. "I think _that_ was a Jason strop."

Hercules considered it for a minute.

"Probably," he conceded. He put out a restraining hand onto Meriones' arm, stopping his old friend from rising to follow after Jason. "Let me," he said.

Meriones frowned.

"Hercules," he began.

The burly wrestler smiled faintly at him.

"I have a little more experience than you with dealing with Jason when he's being wilful," he said firmly.

"But will you be able to keep your temper?" Meriones countered.

"Better than you at the moment I should think," Hercules responded. "I'm not angry at him; I'm just going to talk."

By the time Hercules had slowly walked into the living room, carefully and quietly closing the door behind him, he had worked out exactly what he was going to say. One look at the young man huddled into a miserable looking ball in the window seat and all plans went out of his head, however. Jason did not need a lecture over his behaviour; he needed love and comfort. Hercules wandered over and looked down at him. Jason did not look up; did not acknowledge his presence but the burly wrestler was absolutely convinced that he knew he was there.

"Budge up," he said gently.

Jason scooted along the seat a little, creating just enough room for the big man to sit down, and turned to put his feet down on the floor, still hunched over.

Hercules sat down next to him, so close that they were almost touching while not actually initiating physical contact. He sat there quietly for a few minutes, marshalling his thoughts.

"Now what was that all about?" he rumbled softly.

Jason shrugged. He didn't know why he had reacted in such an intense way and couldn't seem to form the words to explain how he was feeling. He bit his lip and stared at the floor, his arms clamped securely around his aching stomach. He slid a little closer to Hercules until they were touching, almost desperate to regain the feeling of warmth and comfort that he had received from the man the night before.

Hercules felt the movement next to him; felt the warmth of the young body resting against his hip and slid his arm around the young man's shoulders in response. He felt Jason flinch slightly, stiffening against him but did not let go and was shortly rewarded by feeling the lad relax. Jason sat there for a moment but finally everything just got too much for him. He was tired and confused, and didn't know what to believe anymore and his stomach _hurt_ and all he wanted for the first time in a very long time was to be comforted. Turning, he all but launched himself at the startled Hercules, nestling into the man, curled up in a ball with his head on his friend's shoulder. To say that Hercules was surprised to find himself with his arms suddenly full of distressed brunette lad was something of an understatement, but he rose manfully to the challenge and slipped his other arm around the boy, properly hugging Jason and silently providing the support and comfort that he unconsciously knew the young man so desperately needed. He could feel Jason trembling against him and slowly placed two fingers under the lad's chin to tilt his face up to get a better look at him. Jason looked back at him wretchedly, his face pale and his tired hazel eyes so full of pain and confusion that Hercules felt his heart wrench. He looked long and hard at the boy for a moment, taking in the tightly curled posture with his arms still wrapped around himself miserably, the way the lad trembled against him and the pain filled eyes and suddenly knew without a doubt what the problem had been all morning. He let go of Jason's chin and wrapped his arms back around the boy again.

"You're not feeling well. You've had bad stomach ache all morning but you didn't have a way of telling us," he murmured.

He felt Jason hesitate for a moment before nodding into his chest. He sighed and took his arms from around the lad. He felt the silent whimper that Jason gave at the loss of his warm and comforting embrace and sighed again.

"Come on," Hercules said gently, tugging Jason to his feet. "Come and lie down for a bit and I'll see if Pythagoras can't whip up one of his tonics to fix this."

Once the lad was upright, Hercules couldn't help but notice the slightly hunched posture and wondered with a little guilty start how he had not noticed it before breakfast. He slid his arm back around Jason's shoulders and led the lad to his room, making sure that he lay down before going in search of the mathematician. He didn't have to search far. Both Pythagoras and Meriones had moved from the dining room into the kitchen and were clearly waiting for him.

"Is everything alright?" Pythagoras asked.

"It will be," Hercules reassured him. He looked at the mathematician seriously. "Have you got anything in that bag of tricks of yours to fix a bad tummy ache?"

Pythagoras gaped at him for a moment before everything clicked into place and he was moving towards his bag almost before he knew what he was doing.

"Of course," he murmured. "Ginger is good for settling the stomach. Or chamomile. Chamomile has the added bonus of being good for the nerves too. Peppermint is effective too." He reached into the bag and produced several sprigs of a green herb. "I think an infusion of peppermint would be the best option." He turned towards Meriones. "Do you have any honey?"

"Yes," the giant merchant responded, clearly puzzled. "Why?"

"Jason likes sweet food," Pythagoras said simply. "Believe me he will drink this tonic a lot more readily if it is sweetened with honey." He turned towards the fire and started gently heating a small pan of water to which he added the mint leaves.

"I'll try and get him to have a bit of a nap after he's drunk that," Hercules said. "I don't think he slept all that well last night."

Pythagoras frowned.

"Jason should have slept peacefully with the valerian sleeping draught that Meriones was going to give him," he said. "I gather it worked well the night before."

Hercules shrugged.

"I'm sure it would have if he'd actually drunk it," he said without thinking.

Meriones turned towards him with a frown.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "I know Jason was reluctant to take it at first but in the end he did give in and take the cup."

Hercules shuffled his feet a little guiltily.

"Well yes, but you see as soon as your back was turned he tipped it into a vase." He looked around. "That one," he added helpfully.

Pythagoras resisted the urge to snigger at Meriones' affronted confusion. Tipping an unpleasant drink into a vase when he thought no-one was looking was something that Jason would have done before everything that had happened recently and the mathematician couldn't help but feel encouraged – perhaps it was a sign that Jason was beginning to make his way back to them.

"And you did not think to tell me?" Meriones asked Hercules in a deceptively mild voice.

The burly wrestler winced.

"Actually I was so pleased to see a bit of Jason's stubbornness reappearing that I didn't think about it," he confessed.

"It does not matter now," Pythagoras said firmly, heading off any potential argument between the two older men. "I should have warned you that you need to stand over Jason and watch him drink every drop if the tonic you are giving him tastes unpleasant," he said to Meriones. "Otherwise he _will_ find a way to avoid taking it. I have learned that the hard way."

Meriones nodded and relaxed, although he was still slightly irritated at Hercules for not warning him that Jason had thrown away last night's sleeping draught.

"I wish there was some way that we could go to the bathhouse," Pythagoras fretted. "Jason loves water; loves to swim. He told me that at the beach the day after Proerosia. I think the warm water would help him to relax and that could only be a good thing. It's more than likely that he has got stomach ache now because he is so wound up. Besides, some of us need a bath more than others," he added with a dark look at Hercules.

The big man looked hurt.

"I don't smell that bad," he protested.

"You do not smell that good either," Pythagoras retorted. He sighed. "I cannot think of a way that we could achieve it," he admitted. "Jason is simply not ready to go out into a crowded street. It was clearly too stressful for him the other day, and I am loathe to push him into anything at the moment."

Meriones smiled easily.

"There I think I can help you my friends," he said. "When I bought this house I did so in part because there is a hot spring that runs underneath it and bubbles up out of the ground. I do not enjoy the communal bathhouses as much as others do – whenever I visit there always seems to be someone with a hideous skin complaint in the pool – so I had my own private bathhouse built here. It is only small but the water is warm and there is a small cold plunge pool attached. It should suit your needs."

Pythagoras beamed at him and even Hercules looked suitably impressed.

"I ought to be getting back in there," he said, gesturing to the bedroom.

Pythagoras handed him the cup with the warm mint infusion.

"Make sure that Jason drinks all of this," he said.

Hercules nodded and smiled briefly before slipping back in through the doorway. As he made his way over to the bed he noticed that Jason had curled up tightly in his side and was watching his every move. Hercules smiled and placed the cup down on the small bedside table and turned to close the light curtains that hung at the window, darkening the room slightly. Then he turned back to Jason and wandered over to sit down beside the bed.

"Pythagoras reckons that'll make you feel better," he said nodding towards the cup.

Jason sat up and picked up the cup. He sniffed the tonic suspiciously but, apparently reassured that the contents didn't smell _too_ bad, still drained the cup. He lay back down and started to curl in on himself on his side when he was surprised to discover strong hands easing him back out of the tight curl.

"Best if you don't curl up too much," Hercules said firmly. He hesitated for a minute. He could vaguely remember that whenever he had a belly ache as a small child his father would rub light circles soothingly on his tender stomach, his hands rough but gentle. It had always made him feel better. He wondered if it might do the same for his young friend. True Jason was not a child but the principle might still hold true. He gripped the edge of the young man's tunic and lifted it a little, pretending not to notice that Jason flinched and turned to look at him with wide eyes. Settling down more comfortably on the floor, he reached up and rubbed his warm hand gently back and forth across the lad's abdomen, trying to help Jason in any way he knew how. After a moment or two he felt the boy relax and was rewarded by a soft sigh as Jason wriggled to try to get himself more comfortable. He smiled into the semi-darkness. Jason relaxed even further. Without knowing why he felt more safe and secure than he had in a long time and Hercules' rough hand rubbing back and forth was both comforting and soothing.

"Tell me," Hercules said. "Did I ever tell you about the time my father plucked a tooth from the foaming jaws of Cerberus, the beast that guards the underworld, himself?"

Without waiting for an answer that was unlikely to come, he plunged into the story, his voice deep and soothing. Jason sighed and allowed his eyes to drift closed. Right now all the voices in his mind, all the confusion that had been attached to his thoughts for days, was quieted as he listened to his friend's frankly unbelievable tale, and, lulled by Hercules' soft voice, he allowed himself to sleep at last.

* * *

It was late in the morning and Meriones was attempting to read a document, frowning to himself as he held the papyrus at arm's length. Gods but his eyesight was getting bad. Yet another sign that he was getting old he supposed. Did that say Abdera or Abila? It was important that he knew as one was in Thrace and the other in Decapolis – very different places in terms of both trade and distance. His frown grew deeper. He supposed he would have to ask someone to read the document over for him, embarrassing though that was. Pythagoras was around somewhere. Hercules had gone out to the agora some time earlier, muttering something that Meriones hadn't quite been listening to, but the young mathematician had opted to stay behind to work on his triangles. Triangles! Of all the things in the world that the lad could have been interested in what in the name of the gods had possessed him to become obsessed by triangles? As far as Meriones could see his "work" would serve no practical purpose whatsoever. The lad was certainly clever enough that he could have done anything he wanted – would have made a fortune if he had turned his hand to business. Although perhaps not. In truth Pythagoras was not ruthless enough for the sometimes cutthroat world of the merchant. No he would be far better suited to a life of academia. But triangles! Meriones shrugged. Ah well to each his own he supposed.

As if thinking about him had summoned him, Pythagoras wandered back into the living room from the kitchen, a plate of food in his hand. He put it down in front of the startled giant.

"I thought you might be hungry," he said. "Hercules always gets hungry at this time of day."

Meriones smiled and decided not to point out that Hercules was hungry at _any_ time of day. The plate contained a mixture of bread, cold meats, olives, cheese and fruit. But what it contained was far less important than the thought that had gone into preparing it. Meriones was beginning to see why Jason had been known to say on more than one occasion that Pythagoras was the kindest man he had ever met.

"Thank you," he said simply but sincerely.

"It was nothing," Pythagoras tried to brush it off.

A creaking door behind him made him turn in time to see Jason wander in, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, tunic unbelted and wild curls awry. The young man yawned and blinked at them.

"Feeling better?" Meriones asked gently.

Jason looked seriously at him and nodded. Then his expression changed to one of embarrassment, his eyes apologetic. He wandered over to Meriones and looked at him with the same apologetic expression, biting his lip, before turning to look at the dining room and then returning to look at the giant. Meriones nodded gravely, fully understanding what the lad was trying to say without words.

"Apology accepted," he said. "It's all over now. I never particularly liked that dish anyway," he added with a surprisingly boyish and impudent grin.

Jason looked startled for a moment before offering the merchant one of his almost shy smiles. He padded over to the window and sat down on the seat, although this time he remained facing his companions in the room. Within seconds Isosceles had joined him and he lifted her up onto his lap, lazily stroking her with one hand as he watched Meriones work. Both Pythagoras and Meriones were a little surprised. Still, the merchant mused, it had to be a good thing. The young man seemed far more mentally present than he had been for days – far less distracted – and far more willing to interact with them, if not yet with the rest of the world at large.

Jason had slept surprisingly well for the last couple of hours and had woken up feeling much better. The stomach ache had gone altogether and even the ever present headache seemed to have receded into the background. The nightmares had plagued his sleep over the last few days or even weeks had been chased away by Hercules' story and he had had a very strange dream involving the bulky wrestler and Fluffy the three-headed dog from the first Harry Potter film. He was pretty sure that there had been a talking tree in it somewhere as well and possibly the odd hobbit or two. They had all been flying on broomsticks. It had all been very confusing but had made a distinctly pleasant change from the bad dreams he had been having. For now his mind didn't seem to be trying to play tricks on him either, and the confused babble of his own thoughts had been muted, if not completely, then at least to a bearable level – a level that allowed him to at least begin to function on some level. He looked at Meriones trying to read his documents and at Pythagoras who had gone and fetched his equipment having decided to work in the room with the others and smiled to himself. This felt right, although he couldn't have said why. Slipping down off the window seat he sat down on the floor and started to wriggle his fingers, tapping them back and forth in front of Isosceles. The kitten pounced on him in juvenile joy, gnawing lightly on his knuckles with her paws wrapped around his hand, until she decided to retreat and set herself up or another pounce, bottom wiggling.

Pythagoras looked up from his triangles and watched his friend playing with the kitten with a smile. Isosceles kept breaking off from what she was doing to purr and rub herself against Jason's outstretched fingers, eliciting a smile from the brunette lad every time. The mathematician gave up all pretence of working and sat back to watch the game. Eventually Jason felt Pythagoras' eyes on him and looked up with a quizzical look in his eyes. Pythagoras grinned and got up, retrieving a ball of string from his bag as he did, joining his friend on the floor to play with the kitten.

When Hercules arrived back at the house a little while later he was drawn to the sounds of Pythagoras' laughter coming from the living room. He smiled. Pythagoras didn't laugh anywhere near as much as he should and it did the wrestler's heart good to hear him being carefree. He wandered over to the doorway and stopped open mouthed at the mess that had been created in his absence. Meriones was sitting at a small table, deeply engrossed in a document – so deeply in fact that he had not noticed what was going on around him. Which was possibly a good thing, Hercules mused. If the merchant had tried to move his chair would undoubtedly have toppled over, its legs were so bound up and entangled with what appeared to be string. The string circled the chair and the small table that Meriones was sitting at and wound back and forth across the room, wrapped around every available piece of furniture as far as Hercules could see. The remains of the ball of string was being chased around the room by Isosceles. Hercules smiled. She was young and exuberant, her spirit apparently irrepressible. Pythagoras was engaged in a mock battle with her, trying to wrestle the ball away as she batted at him with tiny paws – although in reality he was laughing too hard to get very far. Over by the window, Jason was sitting watching them with a soft smile on his face. He looked up and saw Hercules and rolled his eyes at the antics of his blonde friend and the kitten. Looking around the dark haired lad picked up a feather that seemed to have drifted in through the window. A surprisingly devious grin spread across his face and he raised a finger to his lips to tell the burly wrestler to keep quiet. Hercules blinked in surprise. Not only was Jason interacting with them out of choice – was playing – but he also seemed to have found a way of communicating even if it was without words. Hercules did not know how long it would last, whether the dark fog that had so clearly been clouding his young friend's mind for days would descend again, but he prayed to the gods that it was another sign that Jason really was beginning to become himself again. As he watched the lad darted forwards and traced the feather lightly across the back of Pythagoras' neck, tickling him. The yelp that the blonde mathematician gave was truly hilarious as he let go of the ball of string (which the kitten triumphantly chased away) and rubbed at the back of his neck, whipping around to face his "attacker". By the time he managed to turn, Jason was already back in the safety of the window seat, dimples flashing as his shoulders shook with silent giggles. Hercules grinned widely. He would love to hear that giggling laughter once again but for now just seeing his boys playing and having fun was more than enough.

At Pythagoras' startled yelp, Meriones had looked up from his documents. He surveyed the state of the room and the two smiling boys and exchanged an affectionate and long suffering look with Hercules. He too was extremely pleased to see them both relaxed and apparently happy. Then he looked down and saw the tangle of string encircling his chair. He raised an eyebrow.

"I did not realise that I was going to become a captive today," he rumbled.

Hercules laughed.

Pythagoras turned to look at the two older men and embarrassed flush beginning to make its way up the back of his neck at the thought of being caught behaving in such a childish manner. He turned to look in a reproachful manner first at the kitten, who was sitting washing her ears on the end of the now completely unravelled ball of string, and then at Jason, who continued to giggle silently, tears of laughter leaking from the corners of his eyes. The blonde's eyes softened and his smile grew once more. He did, however, rush to find the end of the tangled string and started to wind it back into a ball, aiming to untie Meriones and tidy the room as soon as possible.

Hercules slipped over while his friends were engaged in trying to untangle the chair legs and stole a small bunch of grapes from the plate that Meriones had been eating from. He walked purposefully over to the window seat and sat down. He nudged Jason in a friendly manner.

"I think they might be at it for some time," he said taking a grape and offering the bunch to his companion.

Jason turned towards him, amusement still dancing in his hazel eyes, and grinned, selecting a grape from the bunch and eating it. They sat for a while, comfortable in each other's company, the young man reaching out and helping himself to more of the grapes every so often. In actual fact Hercules did not eat any more after the first one himself. He was pleased to note that his plan had worked: it might not be a meal but at least his friend had eaten _something_ this morning. After a little while the burly wrestler noticed Meriones watching them, one eyebrow raised speculatively. Hercules nodded once in silent collusion and Meriones smiled.

Once the string had been largely disentangled and the giant was largely able to move again, he came over to the window.

"It is a beautiful day," he observed casually, "although it will not be long before the weather turns. That storm the other night was simply a taste of things to come I am afraid."

"Mmm," Hercules agreed, "and both of you two still need to get warmer clothes for the winter." He looked from Jason to Pythagoras firmly.

"I have a winter tunic," Pythagoras protested.

"Yes," Hercules agreed. "I saw it last year, and the year before that, and the year before that too. It was threadbare the first time I saw it... it's not fit to be a cleaning rag now."

"It is not that bad!" the young genius exclaimed.

"No, it's worse," Hercules responded. "The pair of you need proper winter tunics with sleeves. And you need a proper travelling cloak too," he added pointing a meaty finger at Jason. "I'm guessing you've squirreled a bit of housekeeping money away," he turned to Pythagoras, "so you can't say we're flat broke."

"That money is for when work and food are scarce," Pythagoras said flatly.

"This is just as important," Hercules retorted. "I don't want to see either one of you freezing because you were too stubborn to spend the spare money on yourself."

Pythagoras sighed, knowing that he was, at least for the time being, defeated. It simply was not worth arguing with Hercules when he got a bee in his bonnet about something.

"Very well," he conceded. "I will see what they have on sale in the agora. Hopefully there will be something not too expensive."

Meriones smiled to himself. Looking at the current clothing that both his younger companions were wearing, Hercules was right – both young men would need something warmer (and less ragged) for the upcoming colder weather. Atlantis might never be as cold as more northern climes but the winter storms could be vicious and the wind cutting. He had that woollen fabric in one of his warehouses and had been considering having it made up into garments for sale. His meeting with Talos the other day had been most fortuitous in that respect. Cassie's father had, upon being asked about his profession, somewhat diffidently admitted that his business specialised in the manufacture of clothes. The problem he had was raising the capital to import the best cloth. He was operating on a small scale and most of the larger cloth merchants simply would not deal with him and those that did were making him pay through the nose for their goods. Meriones had looked carefully at the clothes that both the man and his daughter had been wearing, his sharp eyes quickly spotting the fact that, although the garments were simple, their construction was superb. He had despatched Gelo to make enquiries about the business Talos ran yesterday and was awaiting his employee's report. If everything was as promising as he believed it would be the giant merchant had every intention of approaching Talos with an offer – to provide the man with the cloth he required at a slightly discounted rate in exchange for a small cut of the profits from the finished garments. It would save Meriones the effort of having to have the material made up himself while still ensuring that he made a handsome profit. It would also have the added bonus of allowing Meriones to repay Talos' kindness in allowing Castianiera to visit Jason each day – an arrangement which the giant would felt would benefit the young man and help him to reconnect with the world but which must inconvenience Talos, if only in a small degree, as it prevented the man from going about his business for a short time each day.

If the arrangement with Talos worked out, Meriones thought he might make a gift of some winter clothing to his young friends. That would save Pythagoras from having to dip into their often meagre shared funds and would allow the mathematician the luxury of keeping the little he had set aside for the truly lean times. Hercules might gripe that he was spoiling the boys but he knew that his old friend would not really mean it. Hercules' bark had always been much worse than his bite and, although he would never admit it, Meriones suspected that he could never really begrudge either of these lads anything. He smiled softly to himself again.

"Well, my friends," he said. "I think that might be time to visit the bathhouse. More than time for some of us," he added sniffing the air and looking pointedly at Hercules.

Hercules rolled his eyes.

"I'm aware that recent events have produced their own… odour but I'm not that bad," he declared.

"Yes you are," Pythagoras stated firmly, as Jason nodded vigorously.

Hercules sighed, knowing he was outnumbered.

"Fine," he grumbled. "Let's all go to the bathhouse."

None of them missed the way Jason immediately tensed at the suggestion that they should go out, even as he cast a longing look over his shoulder out the window, his eyes beginning to cloud over and become distant again. Pythagoras frowned to himself. Jason had always hated being cooped up; had nearly ended up climbing the walls whenever illness or injury had confined him to the house; desperately missed the fresh air when he had to stay indoors. Periods of prolonged inactivity clearly did not sit well with him. So the fact that he almost appeared to fear going outside at the same time as clearly longing for it was odd to say the least. But the problem wasn't going outside, Pythagoras thought. The problem was going outside among other people. That was something they would have to address sooner or later. For now though he wanted to take advantage of Meriones' offer to use his own private bathhouse. Far better to make sure that Jason remained relaxed and unstressed while they tried to sort out what was going on in his head than to force him into a situation that might make him retreat even further.

"Actually, Hercules, I don't really fancy the public bathhouse," the young genius said. "It is always a bit too crowded for me."

"Then I think I have something you would like to see," Meriones said with a smile, playing along with Pythagoras. "Come."

He started to walk across the room when he felt a tap on his arm. Turning, he found that Jason had stood up and followed him. The lad looked appealingly at him and then pressed himself against the giant's side. Meriones smiled and slipped an arm around the young man's shoulders.

Jason could feel himself beginning to drift again, could feel his own tumultuous thoughts growing louder. It was like a darkness closing in on him; a cloud that shrouded his mind in shadow. Feeling it creeping on he was almost desperate to ground himself. Now that he felt he had finally worked out what was real he had no desire to lose track of it again. The presence of his friends made the voices in his head seem unreal (which he logically knew they were) but the mention of the outside world had brought all his fears and doubts crashing back in full force, manifesting as the voices from his past that he wanted to forget. Desperately wanting to push the thoughts away, to consign them to the darkness where they belonged, he sought out comfort; a physical link to reality. Meriones had been so kind over the last few days. Surely he wouldn't object too much to giving him a one-armed hug?

Meriones tightened his arm a little as he felt the tremor that ran through his young companion's body. Pythagoras was right; Jason really did need to relax. He smiled over his shoulder to his other two friends.

"Come," he said again. "Come with me. I have something to show you all."


	23. Chapter 23

A/N Thank you for all the reviews I have received since the last chapter was published. I'm sorry this one is a little late - all I can say is real life intruded for a time but hopefully normal service should be resumed now.

Please drop me a line or two to let me know if you like the story. It means lot to me to get reviews.

* * *

The door through which Meriones led them opened onto a broad, well lit staircase that descended from the kitchen to street level. At the base a long corridor stretched out ahead with rooms opening on either side. Through open doorways darkened rooms could just about be seen, although it was impossible to see their contents.

"These are the old servant's quarters," Meriones explained. "I have no real need for servants and no real use for the rooms so now they mainly serve as storage areas."

He moved on down the corridor, leading his friends towards the end. There in the gloom he paused.

"I really should think of putting some lamps down here," he noted. "As I am the only one who normally uses this corridor, however, I have never bothered before."

From somewhere within his robes he produced a heavy key and proceeded to unlock a large door, pushing it open with a noticeable creak.

Whatever his friends had been expecting to see on the other side it was not what they found. The door opened out onto a paved courtyard, open to the sky, with large terracotta and bronze vessels containing plants and carved stone benches surrounding a central pool. For Jason stepping through that doorway into the open air with the sky a brilliant blue above his head, it felt as though the sun had come out from behind a cloud. Dropping behind the others as they started to cross the courtyard towards a door on the other side, he stopped and closed his eyes, tilting his head up and breathing in deep lungfuls of fresh air as the late autumn sun warmed his upturned face. He could happily stay out here all day. The pointed clearing of a throat made him open his eyes reluctantly though and he turned to find that his friends were watching him, Pythagoras with a bright and happy smile. Sighing slightly to himself, Jason jogged over to join them.

"Nice of you to join us," Hercules said sarcastically, although his eyes were warm and friendly and belied his tone.

Jason blushed slightly and ducked his head, offering the burly wrestler a silent apology with his eyes.

Hercules laughed lightly and clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly manner; although with enough strength to make his young companion's eyes water slightly.

"I'm only teasing," he said, slipping an arm around the young man's shoulders and pulling Jason close.

Jason couldn't help but flinch as Hercules touched him. It wasn't something he did consciously; simply an automatic gut reaction that happened without his permission. Logically he knew that this was Hercules and that Hercules would never consciously hurt him in any way, but his body reacted without being told to. Being completely honest with himself the thought of someone else initiating any form of physical contact with him made him tense. It didn't really matter whether the person was a friend or not. He was far more comfortable at the moment if he was the one to approach his friends. After a moment though he relaxed, the warmth and friendship he felt emanating from the big man at his side overriding his gut instincts. As Jason's shoulders lost some of their rigidity – some of their obvious tension – Hercules tightened his embrace, feeling the young man lean into him slightly. The big wrestler smiled.

Without comment Meriones pushed the door open and ushered them all inside. The room they entered was large. In the centre of the floor steam wreathed above a sunken bath – big enough for nine or ten people to sit comfortably – edged in the finest alabaster with steps cut from the same material. Beyond it was a large pool, although the air above that was completely still and clear – indicating the cold nature of this particular pool – large enough for a man to swim in comfort. Near the far wall a screened off changing area was provided, testament to the legendary prudishness of the Atlantian population. Other city states around the Aegean indulged in naked public bathing but in Atlantis it was the norm to merely strip to the loincloth – the garment worn under clothing as underwear – or, in the case of women, to change into a loose tunic-like garment of soft cloth to cover the wearer's modesty. What drew Jason's eyes was none of these things, however. It was a carved marble head, shaped like that of a bull, with water pouring from its mouth in a constant stream and running down through a drainage channel to disappear back into the floor. It was a shower! For a moment he was completely thrown. Of all the things he had thought he would never experience again – would never find in the ancient Greek world – a proper shower was fairly high on the list. Almost dreamily he started to move forward, absently stripping off his tunic as he went.

"What in the name of the gods is that thing?" Hercules asked.

"It is the latest innovation in bathing from Athens," Meriones answered. "Water is drawn up through a series of pipes and flows through the head of the bull to mimic the effect of a waterfall, before draining back away into the spring below. In Athens they use only cold water but as I have access to this hot spring I decided to use it and have warm water flowing."

"And what, pray tell, are you supposed to do with it?" Hercules grumbled.

"Wash in it," Meriones rumbled. "It is supposed to wash the body clean in a way that a bath will not. To rinse any impurities away. He seems to know what it is for anyway," he added, nodding towards where Jason, now stripped down to his loincloth, was about to step into the steady stream.

Jason smiled softly to himself as the warm water hit his shoulders, easing away some of the tension that had been there for days that he had scarcely even been aware of, freeing up the knotted muscles in his upper back. He doubted that anyone would ever know just how good this felt, even if he could begin to tell them. With his back still to his friends he reached into a small jar standing on a shelf to one side and helped himself to a generous dollop of the gloop that sat inside, before reaching upwards and starting to lather it through his hair. This was what passed for soap in Atlantis – a mixture of animal fat and ashes – although Jason far preferred not to think about what it was made of. What mattered was that it got him clean and if it didn't smell particularly nice… well that was what the scented oils that were also routinely used were for. As he arched his back, hands still firmly rooted in his hair, and listened to the faint pops that came from his spine, he was blissfully unaware of the three sets of eyes watching him in an appraising manner.

Hercules frowned gently. How on earth had the lad known what that contraption was for? He shuddered to think. Perhaps Jason was Athenian? But somehow he thought not. Yet another question for another time perhaps. For now it was far more important that the young man seemed to be relaxing properly. As Jason stretched again, this time to rinse the cleansing goo from his hair, Hercules let his eyes roam across the planes of the boy's bare back, taking in the slightly hollowed channel of the backbone, the faint shadow of the ribs that showed through the pliant skin and, as Jason turned, the sharp jut of the hipbone that appeared above the top edge of the loincloth. His eyes narrowed. Jason, it appeared, had lost a little weight recently. Nothing drastic but to Hercules' eyes he had been slender enough to begin with. The wrestler's frown deepened. It was a situation that would need monitoring to ensure that the lad did not go from slender to skinny. It was bad enough that Pythagoras was so thin without Jason going the same way and adding to his older friend's worries even more. Although to be completely fair the young genius' appetite was always more than healthy – certainly more so than his dark haired friend's.

Jason turned more fully and, seeing the three of them watching him, froze, fear beginning to rise in his widening eyes. What had put that fear there none of them knew – although they each probably had suspicions. Hercules' frown grew even deeper.

_"Were you planning on telling me that there was a pervert looking for me or were you waiting for me to find out for myself? Because if that's what you were waiting for it worked."_

Alektryon. This had all started with Alektryon. More had to have happened that night than Jason had said. Or did it? Meriones' words came back to him; his speculation that there was something that they were missing; that there was something else that had triggered Jason's recent behaviour; that had caused him to withdraw so deeply and effectively rendered him mute.

_"I can look after myself. I always have. And it's not as if it would have been the first time I'd been propositioned."_

The words struck the big wrestler again as though he were hearing them for the first time. And perhaps in a strange way he was. He had heard them the night Jason had uttered them but everything had been so fraught, so tense and so emotional that he hadn't really paid them any attention; hadn't really listened. But by the gods he was listening now.

_"I should have been paying more attention to what was going on around me anyway. If I hadn't been wandering around with my head in the clouds he'd never have got the chance to get close to me. You'd think I'd know better by now."_

There was definitely something; something that hovered right at the edge of Hercules' mind; something that he couldn't quite put his finger on. And whatever that something was it was the reason – the real reason – that Jason was the way he was right now. Oh he knew that he had played his own part in this, of course he did. Rejecting the lad when he was at his most vulnerable had been the final straw; the final catalyst that had sparked a chain reaction. But it had not been the main trigger – of that Hercules was sure.

_"Don't," Jason mumbled sharply as Pythagoras touched the cloth to his face. "Don't touch me."_

_"It is alright," Pythagoras said soothingly. "It's just me. I would not hurt you."_

_"I don't like it!" Jason asserted, trying to pull away again. "Never liked it when __he __touched me neither."_

_"Who?" Pythagoras asked. "Alektryon?"_

_"Nah," Jason said. "__Him__."_

_"Who?" Pythagoras asked again, thoroughly confused._

_"__Him__. He was all nice to me and everyfing. Said he wanted to look after me," Jason frowned mutinously. "But I don't need no lookin' after. An' I didn't need him." He looked plaintively at Pythagoras. "I just wanna forget... why can't I forget?_"

All the strange things that Jason had said over the last couple of weeks – ever since his encounter with Alektryon – replayed in Hercules' head and he paused, the world around him fading as he listened to the memories in his head.

_"You are clearly __not__ fine," Pythagoras said sharply. "We are all friends. I would have hoped that we could tell one another anything. I only wish to help. What troubles you so much?"_

_"I told you the other day," Jason answered, "it's just some old memories that I thought I'd forgotten."_

_"You were upset last night," Pythagoras started, tentatively. "You did not want me to help clean the blood from your face. You said that you had never liked it when __he__ touched you," he paused. "Jason, who is __he__?" he asked softly. "I asked if you meant Alektryon and you said no."_

_"I don't know what you mean," Jason said attempting to appear casual. "I was very drunk last night. I don't really know what I was talking about. I must have meant Alektryon and you must have misunderstood."_

Hercules looked up and stared at Jason once again, the real world coming back into sharp focus as a dawning suspicion began to grow in his mind. It was a truly horrific theory and he prayed to the gods that he was wrong… but it seemed to fit. He felt sick at the thought. It would explain all of the strange comments, the way the lad had been flinching away from contact and the reluctance to be around other people. If what he suspected was true then he had a feeling that Jason had been running from it for years – running from a past he clearly desperately wanted to forget – and was still running now; had never faced his own past – had probably never been able to – and had probably never had anyone to confide in; to help him. Well it was going to end now, he thought with grim determination. If it was the last thing that he did he would make the lonely child that still lived somewhere inside his friend realise that he had a family that loved him now; that wanted to help and protect him; that he could tell anything to without fear of rejection. They would face the demons that still haunted Jason together as a family and would banish them once and for all; would consign them to the past where they belonged. Of course the first thing to do would be to get the lad talking; there was little they could do to help until then. Hercules knew now that it would take love and patience – something that he was usually sorely lacking – to draw Jason back out from inside his own head. But it was a challenge he was more than ready to face. The first step was to get the young man to relax a lot more than he had been doing – to ease away the anxiety that they all felt so clearly clinging to Jason constantly – and staring at him while he bathed was not the way to go about it; was a little creepy if nothing else. He turned resolutely towards Pythagoras and Meriones.

"Are we going to stand around here all day or are we going to have a bath?" he asked gruffly.

Pythagoras blinked in surprise.

"Of course," he answered, moving over towards the changing area with his large wrestler friend in tow.

Once they were in the large, steaming pool, Hercules began to relax, the heat of the water soothing his body as his mind began to clear. His eyes closed of their own accord. There seemed to be little point in allowing his suspicions to eat away at him until he had some way of confirming them and that would not happen until Jason had recovered a lot more. Until such time as he could settle the lad down and talk everything through – until between them they could get to the bottom of Jason's secrets – he would be better served by conserving his energy and emotions. Restraint was not something that was usually associated with Hercules but where the well-being of someone he cared for was concerned he was more than willing to attempt patience.

A faint noise from the side of the pool made Hercules look up. Jason hovered uneasily near the edge, clearly wanting to join them but at the same time almost ready to bolt – the fight or flight dilemma showing plainly in his eyes. It was a response that Hercules had seen in him many times – far too many if the truth be told. The big wrestler had always believed that Jason would always fight rather than fly but looking at the young man now he realised he had been very wrong; Jason would always stand and fight if the attack were a physical one, but if it involved his emotions he flew. Hercules sighed silently and moved over towards Pythagoras, silently allowing Jason the space to join them without adding any pressure. He deliberately looked away, engaging Meriones in light conversation about the shipment of frankincense he had helped Kerkyon guard for the giant merchant while Meriones had been away. His enormous friend looked shrewdly at him for a moment before willingly joining in with the conversation; quite clearly seeing what Hercules was attempting to do.

After a few minutes, Hercules was rewarded for his patience by hearing a slight splash – evidence that the fourth member of their group had taken the plunge and joined them. The big wrestler looked at the young man out of the corner of his eye. Jason was crouched on the steps, barely in the water, clearly fretful and ill at ease. He sighed silently again. Pythagoras had hoped that a visit to the baths would calm their friend down but at present it did not seem to be working. Hercules couldn't help but think, with a little guilty start, that that was probably because they had all openly stared at Jason as soon as he had begun to relax – putting him on edge again. Slowly, excruciatingly slowly, the lad started to uncurl himself, lowering himself into the water properly and sitting down on the steps that lined the bath, A few minutes later and he started to relax further, the warm water working its magic, although he remained tense, his shoulders almost painfully rigid. Hercules thought about saying something, about trying to put the young man at his ease, but really what could he say? In his present state of anxiety it was uncertain that Jason would even hear him properly anyway.

Suddenly a movement on the other side of the pool caught Hercules' eye. Pythagoras had got up and was wading out of the pool. The big man frowned. What was the boy up to? He hadn't washed properly yet and was therefore unlikely to be heading for the plunge pool, and the look of determination on his face made Hercules pause. The young man walked purposefully over to a shelf and started to unstopper bottles, carefully sniffing the contents until he found the one he wanted. Then he returned to the poolside and stopped, sitting down on the alabaster tiles behind Jason with his legs crossed. The brunette lad tensed even more and dropped his head back to look at his younger friend, worried hazel eyes meeting determined blue ones. Hercules wanted to ask the mathematician just what he thought he was doing but couldn't seem to give voice to the question. The air crackled with tension. Then Pythagoras smiled. That bright reassuring smile that he gave to put people at their ease.

"Do you trust me?" he asked softly.

Jason looked up at him, eyes still anxious, but nodded emphatically. Of course he trusted Pythagoras; he trusted both his friends with his life.

Pythagoras' smile grew even wider and he gently pushed his friend's head forwards again.

"Then relax," he murmured, pouring some oil onto his hands and beginning to massage Jason's taut shoulders, his thumbs working small circles at the base of his friend's neck and his long fingers carefully easing out any knots he found in the tense muscles.

Jason froze for a moment, flinching slightly away from his friend's hands.

"Just relax," Pythagoras repeated gently, never pausing in his actions.

Hercules watched the two boys nervously for a few minutes. Pushing Jason into anything – but particularly into physical contact that he had not initiated in some way – did not seem like the best idea at the moment and the burly wrestler waited with baited breath to see whether Pythagoras' actions were going to cause the lad to retreat once again. Then Jason gave a contented little moan as his friend's supple fingers eased away a particularly painful knot and seemed to almost melt into Pythagoras' hands. The mathematician beamed, looking over the top of the dark curls towards his older friend. Hercules returned the smile with a grin of his own, suddenly feeling a lot more light hearted. It was the first audible vocal sound any of them had heard Jason make in days. It was, to be true, a tiny sound but it was a start – and right now that was all that mattered.

* * *

Pythagoras sighed contentedly as he slipped between the covers of the bed he was using in Meriones' house. The sheets themselves were cool against the bare skin of his arms and, although he knew that they would quickly warm up, he couldn't help wriggling slightly to try to help the process along. In actual fact the blankets that Meriones had piled up on the bed in an attempt to ensure his guest's comfort and warmth were far thicker and softer than anything on Pythagoras' bed at home and promised to keep the mathematician far warmer than he usually was. And yet, in spite of the extra comfort, Pythagoras couldn't help but long for the time when things truly got back to normal and they could all return home once again. Still, he mused, things were definitely getting better. The events of the day had proved that. The trip to Meriones' bathhouse had been just as successful as Pythagoras had hoped. Jason had swum in the cold plunge pool until his lips had started to turn blue with the cold, teeth chattering and body shivering as he finally got out of the cold water. Hercules had rolled his eyes and steered the young man back to the warm bath until he had warmed up again. The big man had been completely unprepared at that point to encounter the more mischievous side of his dark haired friend's nature and had been left spluttering as Jason had flicked water from the bath up into his face with an impish grin as they sat together, while Pythagoras and Meriones looked on and laughed at the bulky wrestler's expense. Pythagoras smiled in the darkness. The bath had been a good idea; after a slightly shaky start it had obviously relaxed Jason and calmed him down a lot. As they had come back towards the main house, though, the young man had dropped further and further behind, clearly reluctant to leave the fresh air in Meriones' secluded courtyard garden. Eventually the giant had promised that the door would be left unlocked for any of them to go out into the garden whenever they wished. After that Hercules had dragged Pythagoras off to the agora for a few hours while Cassie and Talos visited again. Although it had been clear that the child's innocent behaviour was drawing out Jason's protective instincts and encouraging him to interact with those around him, Meriones had reported that he had made no further attempt at any sort of audible vocal sound since that contented little moan that Pythagoras' shoulder massage had drawn out of him at the baths. This evening had been good, however, and the young mathematician had watched his friend's confidence growing with pleasure.

"_Something smells good," Hercules rumbled as he tried to peer over Pythagoras' shoulder into the pot that the young man was stirring._

"_It is for supper," Pythagoras answered batting his friend away with the spoon. _

_A noise behind him made him turn slightly. Jason was laying the kitchen table with bowls and spoons ready for the evening meal. The brunette stopped for a moment, thinking, before turning to Meriones, who had been fetching a flagon of wine, and miming drinking. The giant smiled and pointed the young man to the cupboard that contained a set of simple horn cups._

_Pythagoras smiled. It was good to see Jason beginning to get back to normal, even if his silence was still a little unnerving. Still, the mathematician had faith that sooner or later his friend would regain his voice; would start speaking to them again; and was looking forward to that time. At least when Jason proved to be able to speak again they would be able to have a proper conversation about just what had been troubling him and could try to work out why he had withdrawn so completely – and to help him deal with any lingering issues that he might have. Pythagoras grabbed a cloth and lifted the cauldron from the fire, straining slightly as he heaved the heavy pot to the table._

_Supper had been helped along by a selection of tall tales from both Hercules and Meriones – reliving their misspent youths for the benefit of their younger companions. Every time Jason turned to look at Meriones, listening with rapt attention, his dark eyes huge as they often were when someone was telling a story, Hercules slipped an extra spoonful of food onto his plate. Pythagoras watched this for a while, eyes narrowed with bemusement. It wasn't until they were clearing up from the meal, however, and were carrying the plates over to a bowl of water to be washed, that he got the chance to ask what the big man had been doing._

"_He hasn't been eating properly again," Hercules answered with a shrug._

_Pythagoras frowned at him in some confusion._

"_How do you know?" he asked._

"_At the baths today," Hercules said, "Jason had clearly lost weight. Not too much yet – but I intend to keep it that way. He's slim enough already without becoming skinny like you." He gave the young mathematician an accusatory look._

_Pythagoras shuffled awkwardly, feeling the sudden need to apologise for his fast metabolism._

"_I eat plenty – when we have food that is," he defended himself._

"_I know," Hercules answered. "You eat well enough. But his eating habits are decidedly poor at times – a bit like his sleeping habits too."_

_Pythagoras found himself agreeing with Hercules. Much as he would have liked to defend Jason he had found himself worrying about his friend's capricious appetite and erratic eating habits on too many occasions for comfort._

_Once the remnants of supper were tidied away, the two older men settled in for a game of knucklebones, watched (and occasionally joined) by their younger companions. After a while Pythagoras noticed Jason beginning to nod sleepily, even as his own eyes began to grow heavy. The wine that Meriones had served was potent even when mixed with water, and the warmth and comfort of the room combined with a tiredness engendered by too little sleep recently (exhaustion that one good night's sleep could not completely cure) all formed a treacherous mix that had both young men starting to fall asleep where they sat. Before anyone could say anything, however, Jason slid along the bench towards Hercules and lifted the big man's free arm around his shoulders, burrowing into his friend's side much like a sleepy cat. Hercules did not react with the surprise that Pythagoras would have expected. He turned and smiled at the young man next to him, tightening his arm and pulling Jason as close as he could. Turning back to his game he left his arm draped around his young friend, casting the occasional knowing and sad glance at the lad. Pythagoras frowned. He really was too tired to wonder what those looks were about at the moment but he would have to remember to ask Hercules in the morning. Eventually, when it became evident that Jason was all but falling asleep against him, dark head resting on his older friend's shoulder, the big man turned and gave the lad's shoulders a squeeze._

"_Time for bed," he said firmly. "For both of you," he added looking seriously at Pythagoras._

_The young genius thought about protesting but on reflection decided that his big friend was probably right. Pushing himself up from the table and making his way back across the kitchen, Pythagoras started to tidy away the now drained and dry cooking and eating utensils, his compulsive need for order and neatness overriding his exhaustion. Hercules rolled his eyes before going to join the young man, knowing that the sooner everything was put away the sooner Pythagoras would go to bed. That left Meriones to try to persuade a clearly reluctant Jason to drink the valerian sleeping draught Pythagoras had given him. After a short time the giant joined the other two in the kitchen just as the final plates were being stacked in the cupboard. He smiled as he washed a now empty cup._

"_Jason has already slipped off to bed. He took the cat with him," he said. "He drank the tonic without a fuss with a little persuasion."_

_Pythagoras frowned. To acquiesce so easily was not in Jason's nature. While he was still withdrawn, his normal character was starting to come out and Pythagoras could not believe that Jason would have simply given in without a fight._

"_That was easy," he murmured. "Almost too easy."_

_Meriones smiled broadly._

"_Perhaps I am simply more stubborn than he is," he said._

_Pythagoras and Hercules exchanged an incredulous look. As Hercules was fond of saying neither of them had ever known anyone as headstrong and stubborn as Jason when he had made his mind up about something. There were times when their friend seemed almost frighteningly independent and self-sufficient and once he had taken a decision he would not back down no matter what. Pythagoras sometimes wondered if it was part of Jason's defence mechanisms; his way of coping with growing up alone in a cold and dangerous world. He guessed that having no family had meant that his friend had learned young to rely on himself – and only himself if the truth be told. He sighed. Life didn't seem fair at times._

_Hearing the slightly pensive sigh from the young blonde, Hercules slipped a light and friendly arm around Pythagoras' shoulders as they made their way back across the kitchen towards the living area and the bedrooms. Pythagoras smiled, grateful for the silent support his old friend provided – particularly after having had to struggle alone to hold his "family" together for several days. At the table he paused, preparing to bid Hercules and Meriones goodnight as the two older men prepared to return to their game of knucklebones. Meriones took a long sip from his cup of wine and nearly spat it out across the room._

"_What's wrong?" Hercules frowned._

"_This wine is off," Meriones exclaimed._

"_Mine is fine," the burly wrestler said._

_Pythagoras reached out and took Meriones cup, a suspicion beginning to grow in his mind. He sniffed the contents and then dipped one long and delicate finger into the liquid, tasting it thoughtfully._

"_Valerian," he proclaimed. He turned to Meriones. "Did you see Jason drinking the draught you gave him?"_

_Meriones stared at him._

"_Of course he drank it," he argued. "He refused at first but when I insisted, he took it. I remembered what you said and watched him raise the cup to his mouth before I went to get more wine. When I came back he handed me the empty cup."_

_Pythagoras quirked an amused smile._

"_You did not actually see him drink it then?" he asked._

"_Well no," Meriones said, "but what else could he have done with it? I made sure to check the vases this time."_

"_He poured it into your wine," Hercules spluttered, unable to contain his laughter any longer._

"_It is not very funny though, is it?" Pythagoras said, although his own mouth twitched at the astonishment on Meriones' face and he struggled manfully to contain the laughter that threatened to bubble out._

"_No," Hercules howled, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes. "It's hilarious!"_

"_I do not see why," Meriones grumbled. "I should go into that bedroom and pin Jason down and _make_ him drink it. I cannot believe he has been so devious when all we are trying to do is help him."_

"_I did warn you that the boy is more headstrong than anyone I've ever met," Hercules said, still chortling slightly._

"_At least it shows that Jason is coming back to us," Pythagoras stated. He turned back to Meriones. "Do not worry. I think it is fairly obvious that Jason is not willing to take the valerian infusion. I cannot actually say that I blame him – the taste is foul. Tomorrow I will make something different to try. Perhaps a stronger version of the hyperikon and chamomile infusion. Jason did not seem to object to the taste of that." He smiled vaguely at the two older men, suddenly overcome once again by a wave of tiredness. "I think I might go and get some sleep. Goodnight."_

"_Sleep well, my friend," Hercules responded turning back to his game._

Pythagoras rolled over in bed as the memories of the evening played through his mind. The muted sound of deep voices and rattling dice came through the closed door and told him that Hercules and Meriones were still deep in their games and probably in their wine cups. Briefly Pythagoras wondered if he should be kind to them both and brew up a hangover remedy in the morning – before deciding that it would only encourage them to drink more if the deterrent of a potential hangover were taken away. He rolled over again, seeking a comfortable position. Yes, it had been a good day indeed, and an even better evening. He smiled softly to himself once more as his eyes drifted closed and he dropped into a peaceful slumber.

* * *

Jason lay in the darkness staring at the ceiling. He had slept for a couple of hours, long enough at least that the house was now plunged into darkness and silent, all the occupants having long since sought their beds. He wasn't sure what had awoken him. It wasn't a bad dream, of that much he was at least certain, and nothing was really troubling him. He had finally begun to accept that his friends were indeed still his friends and relished the warmth and affection he felt coming from them both – and from Meriones. The giant merchant had been more than kind for days now. Jason wasn't entirely sure how long he had been staying here – the first few days seemed to blur into each other forming a confused blob of time. Part of his mind – the suspicious, cynical part – still told him to be wary of letting his friends get too close; warned him that people were rarely as they seemed; warned him against trusting too easily and risking getting hurt again. But right now he chose to ignore that voice. This was Pythagoras and Hercules after all and whatever else had happened or would happen in the future he could not bring himself to believe that either of them would ever deliberately hurt him.

"Yes," the voice whispered, "but they might still hurt you anyway."

Maybe, he acknowledged, but it was a risk worth taking. Just to have their friendship was more than enough. He supposed he should be embarrassed that several times now he had pressed himself into the side of one of his friends, seeking the warmth and comfort of – there was really no other word for it – a cuddle. Before coming to Atlantis Jason had never been particularly physically demonstrative; from a young age he had never expected to experience physical affection and had never been completely comfortable either giving or receiving it. Since landing on the balcony on that first day in the city he had been the recipient of more hugs than he had ever experienced before. Pythagoras, in particular, was frequently physically affectionate, hugging both his friends when he was happy, excited or even scared. Jason had grown used to the mathematician launching himself at him or draping a friendly arm lightly around his shoulders at odd times. He had even started to mentally classify the different types of Pythagoras hug – so far he was up to seven. Even Hercules was known to pull either one of his young friends into a one armed embrace when he was in a good mood. Despite all this, however, Jason had never really sought out a hug from either of his friends, so to do so now made him feel a little like a needy child – and yet right now it made him feel secure, safe and loved. And that was not something he felt embarrassed about at all. He smiled in the darkness.

But if being with his friends made him feel so safe, why did the thought of going out into the city with them make him panic, fear gripping his stomach at the mere thought of it? It was not the idea of being outside he was sure. Oh how he longed for fresh air. Those few minutes in Meriones' courtyard garden had been heavenly. No, it was the idea of being around people. Of their voices competing with his own still somewhat tangled thoughts. Of them brushing against him, touching him. Of the chance that somewhere in the city another person like Alektryon lingered; another person like _him_. He shuddered, trying desperately to draw his thoughts away from well-worn pathways; trying to avoid the darker areas of his own mind and memories; and trying to avoid the self-recriminations that those thoughts and memories usually brought with them.

For a brief moment he wished that there were some way he could explain how he was feeling to his friends – although to be honest he had never been very good at talking about himself or his feelings. Plus it might mean having to face the darker aspects of his past – things he had tried very hard to forget for many years and really didn't think ought to be dredged up now. But his mind seemed to be dredging them up anyway and he still wasn't sure that he knew how to handle it. He sighed.

There was also the unescapable fact that he seemed to be unable to give voice to anything right now. Jason couldn't really understand it. He wanted to speak to his friends but his mind and his mouth didn't seem to be able to form words – to form any sounds consciously. It worried him. There had been periods in his life before when he had retreated into complete silence. It had always been his last line of defence. But he had always felt that he _could_ speak before – he just didn't want to. This time was different, however; this time he genuinely could not seem to speak. Just what was wrong with him?

"You know what's wrong," the voice, _Hector's_ voice, taunted him. "You're afraid."

Jason clenched his hands into fists, nails biting mercilessly into his palms as he fought to push the voice away; fought to deny what it was saying.

"You're afraid that if you speak you'll tell them the truth," the voice continued. "And when they find out the truth – when they find out just what you are – how disgusting and dirty you are – they won't want to know you anymore. They won't want you."

Jason swallowed hard, fighting the panic that rose at the sound of the voice and threatened to overwhelm him. What if it was right? His breathing grew quicker, more erratic, as the real world started to drift away again. He couldn't let that happen. He needed to find a way to ground himself here in reality; to deny his demons any foothold. Perhaps some fresh air might help. Carefully, so as not to disturb her, he lifted Isosceles down from her perch on his chest and settled her onto the bed covers alongside him. The kitten raised her head sleepily before curling herself into a tighter ball. Jason envied her peaceful slumber – it seemed so long since he had slept through the night himself.

Sliding out from under the covers, he quickly found his tunic and sandals, pulling them on as quietly as possible and padded through the house until he reached the main door. Once there he paused, hand on the handle as he tried to calm himself, before yanking the door open in a rush. Stepping through it he found himself at the top of the steps that led to the street. The night was colder than he had expected, having been tucked up warmly in bed, and the breeze caught at his bare arms making him shiver. He stopped. He couldn't do this. What if there was something out there in the dark? What if the sort of demons that haunted him were out there waiting for him? He felt his panic rising again. And yet he longed to be out in the open air so much that it hurt. Was a physical ache in his chest. It would be better if there was someone with him. Someone to help him keep a grip. Quietly, Jason edged back into the house and shut the door, before making his way resolutely back across the room to find the one person he was sure would accompany him no matter what.

* * *

Pythagoras was woken up by an insistent hand shaking his shoulder firmly. He opened his eyes and looked directly into Jason's hazel ones, mere inches from his own. His friend was crouching by his bed, one hand still on his shoulder. For a moment Pythagoras was hit by a wave of deja-vu. This was eerily like the position he had seen Jason in on the first night his dark haired friend had been in Atlantis. Although then it had been because the young man had just witnessed Hercules leaving in the dead of night and had been worried enough to wake the mathematician. Then he hadn't been almost unnervingly silent either. Pythagoras half sat up, worrying about what might have caused his friend to wake him at what was surely an ungodly hour.

"What is it?" he asked urgently. "What's wrong?"

Jason opened his mouth as though he was about to speak and then shut it again, giving the young genius a helpless look. It had grown increasingly obvious to Pythagoras that no matter what the cause Jason was unable rather than unwilling to speak. The brunette lad gestured towards the door, before standing and motioning insistently for Pythagoras to follow him. The mathematician sighed and pulled on his sandals before following his friend.

At the main door of the house, Jason turned and pointed to himself before pointing at the door. Pythagoras sighed again, suddenly working out what it was his friend wanted.

"Jason we can't go out now," he said reasonably. "It's the middle of the night, it's dark and it's cold. Go back to bed and we'll go for a walk in the morning."

Jason shook his head stubbornly and pointed at the door again, looking so beseechingly at Pythagoras that the young blonde felt his heart lurch. If it really meant so much to Jason then what harm could a short walk do? It might help his friend to settle down for a good night's sleep when they returned. And at least Jason wanted to go outside again – something he had shown no signs of wanting to do for days. The streets would be relatively deserted at night which might make this the ideal time to take a little stroll while still ensuring that Jason remained calm and unstressed. It was another step back towards normality, Pythagoras reminded himself. He crossed his arms and looked seriously at his friend.

"Right," he said. "If we are going out tonight then I will fetch some cloaks. Hercules left his on the window seat earlier and I am sure he would not mind if you borrowed it. I am not willing for either of us to catch a chill going out into the night air without a cloak on."

While Jason waited by the door impatiently, Pythagoras found both his own cloak and Hercules', which he handed to his companion. Slipping his own cloak over his head, he was satisfied to see Jason following suit. Putting one hand on the door handle, he turned and smiled at his dark haired friend.

"Alright," he said, "let's go."


	24. Chapter 24

A/N Thank you once again for the reviews - I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint _too_ much.

Please drop me a few lines to tell me what you think - I always appreciate it!

* * *

There was something slightly unnerving about the streets of Atlantis this late at night, Pythagoras decided. He had been out after dark before – of course he had. It was just that it was usually much earlier in the night when the taverns were still open and the streets, whilst not being as busy as they were in the daytime, were far from deserted. Now though the only sign of life, apart from the young man at his side, came from the odd rat skittering across their path, eyes glowing red where the light from the slowly guttering torches hit them. Pythagoras shuddered. He didn't like rats.

Belatedly he wondered if this was a curfew night and just what he would do if it was and they ran into a patrol. Normally he would know of course but with everything that had been going on lately he had lost track. Silently he cursed himself for not thinking about this before they had left Meriones' house. It was just that Jason had seemed so keen – so anxious – to come for a walk and it had been so long since Pythagoras had seen him want to do something so much that he had been unable to say no. Still that did not help with the problem of what to do if it was a curfew night and they ran into the city guards. Jason would hardly be able to help him talk their way out of trouble and it seemed unlikely that he would be able to run or fight or manoeuvre in the way he normally did. And what if it was not a curfew night but they were set upon by footpads? Neither of them were armed. Pythagoras hadn't even thought of it before – that was something Jason or Hercules usually took care of. But he should have thought of it this time, he berated himself. Jason had barely been functioning for days, had not really been registering what was going on around him and was only just beginning to emerge from the stupefied state he had withdrawn into. He could hardly be expected to behave and react as normal under these circumstances, or to think of things like their protection.

Perhaps it would be better to return to Meriones' house. Surely they had gone far enough now? Had had enough of a walk to satisfy Jason's need for fresh air? Yet Jason showed no signs of wanting to stop; of slowing down at all. Now that they were out in the open air he seemed more self-assured somehow and clearly had a destination in mind. Pythagoras bit his lip and wondered how to broach the subject of turning back with his friend. Usually he would catch Jason's attention by grabbing his arm or placing a hand on his shoulder but right now he was uncertain how such a gesture might be received by his companion and how he might react. It might be that Jason would react completely normally (certainly he appeared to be becoming more comfortable with physical contact with his friends again) but equally he might react badly – might be startled and might retreat back into himself again. It was a risk that Pythagoras was not sure he was willing to take.

A soft skittering noise from an alleyway made the mathematician jump, heart suddenly pounding. Beside him, Jason had also spun around, eyes wide and fearful. Somehow that made Pythagoras feel much better. Obviously Jason was not quite as self-assured as he seemed wandering the dark and empty streets. Hard on the heels of that thought came worry, however. If being outside now when the streets were ostensibly deserted was upsetting and stressing Jason then there was absolutely no way he was ready to go out in the daytime; no way he would be comfortable enough to be anywhere near people. Perhaps the damage to his friend had gone even deeper than Pythagoras had thought.

And there was still the noise in the alleyway to deal with. What if it was a robber? Lurking in the darkness, just waiting for an unsuspecting passer by to leap out on and attack. Pythagoras' breathing quickened. Of course thinking about it logically he couldn't really see any self-respecting thief bothering with either himself or Jason. Two young men in clothing that had definitely seen better days, who looked (if Pythagoras were being brutally honest) more than a little down at heel and scruffy would hardly form an enticing prospect. But a potential thief might not have got a good look at them in the darkness and by the time he realised his mistake it would already be too late and he would have attacked. Pythagoras stared into the darkness, his anxiety growing and his breath sounding harsh to his own ears.

Suddenly a large black rat darted out of the alleyway, chased by a distinctly ragged and battered alley cat. The rat came so close that it ran over Pythagoras' foot. The young man gave a distinctly strangled squeak and jumped backwards. He lurched off balance and would have fallen if a tanned hand had not darted out and quickly caught hold of his shoulder, helping him to regain his equilibrium. Both young men looked after the fleeing rat and its pursuer, breathing hard. They turned back to one another and exchanged a sheepish look. Jason let his hand fall from Pythagoras' shoulder and gave an amused grin, rolling his eyes at his own nervous behaviour.

Pythagoras bit his lip again.

"We should go back," he said "It is late and dark and we are some distance from the house. Being out here and jumping at shadows does not seem like a healthy occupation for the evening when we should actually both be in bed and sleeping. Besides Hercules will be upset if he wakes and finds that we are gone."

Jason's face fell, the corners of his mouth turning down and his brow drawing together into a dark scowl. He shook his head mulishly and pointed on down the street.

Pythagoras sighed.

"Jason," he began, marshalling his arguments to try to persuade his stubborn friend. "We can return another time but I really think it would be better if we went back now."

Jason shook his head again before pulling away from his friend and walking a little further down the street, looking back expectantly over his shoulder at Pythagoras. The blonde sighed again and trotted to catch up with his companion.

They walked a little further in complete silence.

"So are we going anywhere in particular or are we just wandering in general?" Pythagoras asked.

Jason turned towards him with a half-smile and pointed determinedly down the street.

Pythagoras sighed.

"Right," he said with some resignation. "That way it is then."

He lapsed back into silence as they walked on. It was hard to maintain a one sided conversation while walking – particularly when he did not know their destination.

As they approached the Thálassas Gate Pythagoras paused. Where on earth was Jason leading him? The only thing in this direction was the path that led to the shore. Suddenly it hit him. Oh, so _that_ was where Jason was aiming for. Given how much his friend apparently loved the sea, Pythagoras supposed that it made sense that one of the first places he wanted to go was the beach – although he couldn't help the sudden pang of disappointment that Jason had apparently not wanted to go home. Still perhaps it was a bit soon. Jason had really only been interacting with them for a little over a day. It was surely likely that the more he recovered – the more he came back to himself – the more he would want to come home.

But what if he didn't? What if Jason decided that he wanted to leave? Wanted no more to do with them? Pythagoras' blood ran cold. Perhaps after all that had happened Jason would decide that he wanted to leave Atlantis; to leave the past behind him and forget. After all hadn't he said that he just wanted to forget the past before? He had been in Atlantis for only a few months really – certainly less than a year – and yet he had slotted into their lives and household so easily and completely that Pythagoras could no longer imagine life without him. The house just wouldn't be the same without all three of them in it together. They had become a family without even trying.

The young mathematician turned to look at his friend anxiously, right on the verge of grabbing Jason's arm and demanding that he promise to stay. He wasn't entirely sure when he had stopped and stood still but when he turned he found that Jason had stopped alongside him, concern written in his dark eyes. Jason looked seriously at Pythagoras for a moment and then reached out and pulled the young genius into a hug, patting him gently on the back. Pythagoras was more than a little nonplussed. He was usually the one to give hugs in their household not necessarily receive them. Additionally Jason had never really seemed all that comfortable with showing his affection physically (although he usually showed it in other ways – in a dozen small gestures and kindnesses that Pythagoras never took for granted) and rarely gave any sort of hug. Pythagoras did have to admit, however, that his friend had sought more hugs in the last day or so than he had ever done before. While he realised that it had an awful lot to do with Jason's current mental state he couldn't help hoping that it lasted a while. He had always been comfortable with showing his own affection openly and physically – had always believed that it cemented his relationships with his family members – and had always hoped that one day Jason would be comfortable enough to follow suit. That he would come to understand his own place in their little family and would come to accept that they loved him as much as he loved them; that he was important to them. Pythagoras knew that his friend's sense of self-worth was poor (that deep down he didn't believe that he was worthy of anyone's love or affection) and had longed for the opportunity to improve Jason's self-confidence; to make him finally believe that he deserved their love. Although the circumstances were less than ideal maybe this was a chance for that to finally happen.

The mathematician's arms snaked out around his friend's back. Hercules was right, he noted almost absently, Jason had lost a little weight – Pythagoras could feel his ribcage remarkably easily through his thin tunic.

"You need to eat more," he remarked. "You are getting too thin again."

Jason pulled back slightly from him with an incredulous expression. He slowly looked the blonde up and down, taking in the mathematician's thin frame, with his eyebrows raised and amusement dancing in his eyes. Pythagoras sighed.

"Yes I know," he responded, "but at least I eat enough. You do not."

Jason sighed and rolled his eyes. It was rare for Pythagoras to nag him about his sometimes erratic eating habits. That was usually Hercules' job. He pulled the blonde close again, once more relishing the warmth, affection and sense of comfort he was getting from close contact with a friend. Pythagoras smiled.

How long they stood there the young genius could not say. Eventually though Jason pulled back once again and looked longingly down the street towards the Thálassas Gate. Pythagoras laughed lightly at the hopeful expression on his friend's face and patted Jason lightly on the shoulder. There was no telling whether the guards on the gate would actually let them leave at this time of night but Pythagoras saw no harm in trying and no reason to disappoint his friend until they had tried.

"Yes," he said. "Of course."

Jason's face brightened noticeably. Pythagoras felt his own mood lighten considerably at the happiness he felt coming from his friend. The dark haired young man pulled away from him completely then and trotted off down the street, pausing a few steps ahead of the blonde and looking back over his shoulder at his friend, looking for all the world like an expectant puppy. Pythagoras laughed again and moved to join Jason as they moved off together into the night towards the gate out of the city.

* * *

Hercules stepped quietly but purposefully out of the room he was using in Meriones' house. He'd known deep down that he should have used the latrine before retiring to bed because, like it or not, he was now at that age where it was necessary if he didn't want to get up in the night – much as he hated to think of himself as being that old. But he hadn't wanted to admit that much – hadn't wanted to lose face in front of his old friend – even though he knew that Meriones (being the same sort of age) probably had the same problems himself.

Returning from the latrine he paused at the kitchen table to help himself to a cup of wine. He had drunk far less than usual over the last couple of days; had decided to take it a bit easy after his recent voyage around the less salubrious drinking establishments of Atlantis. Pythagoras had been right; he had been supremely selfish at the time and had been wallowing in self-pity. His boys – both his boys – had needed him and he had let them down even if he had tried to make up for it over the last two days. He sat down and took a long sip, smiling as he thought about the way Jason had got one over on Meriones earlier that evening. It was good to see the young man starting to re-emerge from within his own head and deeply amusing to see someone get the better of the giant merchant. Meriones had been Hercules' friend for more years than the wrestler cared to count and was at times just a little bit too sure of himself; over the years he had become almost cocky, knowing that with his intelligence and cunning few people could best him. His affronted astonishment at being tricked by Jason had been truly hilarious. Hercules supposed that the kind thing to do would be to give Meriones some pointers on dealing with his stubborn young friend but he had to admit that watching the man flounder and have to learn for himself was incredibly entertaining. He smiled again.

A nudge at his hand as he sat deep in thought brought his attention back to the present. Isosceles had managed to get out through the half open door to Jason's room and had made her way over to the table. Hercules frowned lightly as he started to stroke the kitten. Surely Jason's door had been closed when he had bid Meriones goodnight and gone to bed himself? He guessed that the kitten must have nudged it open although it looked too heavy for her to have moved on her own. It was strange for the small creature to get up in the night too. She had been part of the family for nearly two weeks now and Hercules had noticed that whenever she got the opportunity she spent the entire night snuggled up to Jason – and even when he hadn't been there she had spent the night on his bed. He smiled at Isosceles as she lay down on the table, stretching out to allow him to stroke her entire body.

"You really are a pretty little thing aren't you?" he cooed. "Yes you are. You like being back with Jason too don't you? But I bet you'll be even happier when we can get back home." He paused. "I know I will," he confessed. "I'll be glad when we're back under our own roof again."

He paused again and sighed, mood suddenly darkening.

"I think I know what's wrong with Jason," he said to the kitten. "I think I know what's been bothering him. But how do I talk to him about it, hey? How can I tell him that I think I know that something happened to him years ago and that I think I know what that something is? How can I get him to talk to me without driving him away again?"

He stopped and stroked the kitten absently as he thought.

"He's family," he said softly, "and I need to make him see that before we can talk about anything else, don't I? He needs to know that we want him to stay no matter what and that there's nothing he could tell us that would ever change the way we feel. Then we can try and get him to talk... of course it would help if he was talking at all, wouldn't it?"

Hercules looked down at the kitten.

"Why am I telling you this?" he muttered. "You're a cat. All you care about is getting your belly rubbed and being fed."

"A bit like you then," Meriones rumbled from the doorway of his room.

Hercules nearly fell off his stool in surprise. He swore loudly and then clapped his hand over his mouth, knowing that he really ought to be making as little noise as possible to avoid waking either of the boys.

"Sorry," Meriones said in response to his accusatory look, quirking a smile.

"What are you doing up?" Hercules asked.

"The same thing as you I would imagine, old friend," Meriones responded affably. "I am at the age where a night-time visit to the latrine is almost inevitable."

Hercules grunted a response although he refused to acknowledge the fact that Meriones was in fact quite correct. Once the giant had disappeared to the latrine he pushed himself to his feet, intending to return to bed. Near the half open door to Jason's room he paused, listening. All was silent within. Hercules hesitated for a moment. What harm could it do to just have a little peek in to check that the lad was sleeping soundly? But what if he was and Hercules woke him up? He frowned. He really didn't want to disturb Jason; knew that the young man had been sleeping badly again and quite probably could use all the undisturbed sleep he could get. But given the fact that he had managed to avoid drinking the sleeping draught that Pythagoras had made for him and had clearly not been sleeping well for some time there was a distinct chance that Jason would actually be awake and staring at the ceiling; alone and possibly unhappy in the darkness. And if he were he might very well appreciate Hercules making sure he was alright as he had on so many nights over the last few months. If nothing else he could talk and tell stories, keep Jason company until he fell back asleep. Decision made, Hercules pushed the door open wider and slipped silently through.

It actually took a while for him to register the fact that the room was empty. For a few minutes he stared blankly at the bed, his mind refusing to register what his eyes were seeing. Then his brain kicked into gear. Where in the name of the gods could the young man be? Hercules dreaded to think. There was a chance – however remote it seemed – that Jason had wandered off alone into the night. Given his level of distraction recently Hercules was worried that he would be too unaware of his own surroundings to realise where he was going or to spot any possible dangers. If he had drifted off like that then they needed to find him and bring him home as soon as possible. With a strangled cry the big man hurried out of the room, nearly tripping over his own feet in the process, and stumbled towards Pythagoras' room, intent on rousing the mathematician from his bed and putting his brilliant mind to work in finding their friend.

It was with growing horror that he found the second bed empty too and realised that Pythagoras' cloak was gone. A cursory search of the living area revealed that his own cloak was missing too. Wherever the boys were it was likely they were together then. The thought ought to have comforted him and yet it didn't. The gods knew that Pythagoras was not the most observant person in the world when it came to his own surroundings and was frighteningly innocent at times. Add to that his lack of ability with a sword and his chances of defending himself against anything were decidedly slim. Usually Hercules would expect Jason to protect them both (even if _that_ lad's own observational skills were sometimes a little lacking) but under the present circumstances it was unlikely that Jason would be in any fit state to provide any sort of defence. That was if he had even taken a sword for protection – which a further examination of his room revealed he had not. Hercules swore, even though he was not entirely surprised.

At this point Meriones returned to the room and stopped, staring in surprise at Hercules pacing up and down and swearing sulphurously.

"What is wrong?" he asked.

"The boys have gone," Hercules answered, still pacing and waving his arms around.

"What do you mean the boys have gone?" Meriones demanded, frowning.

"I mean that neither of them are in their beds and that both Pythagoras and my cloaks are gone," Hercules barked.

He sank to the bench and poured another cup of wine to steady his nerves.

"I don't understand it," he burst out. "What in the name of the gods is Pythagoras thinking? I know Jason isn't himself at the moment but Pythagoras should know better than to disappear off like this."

"Perhaps they have just gone to get some air," Meriones said reasonably. In actual fact he was no less concerned than his old friend but one look at Hercules had told him that one of them needed to stay calm. "They have probably gone for a short walk together that is all."

"In the middle of the night?" Hercules demanded incredulously.

Meriones offered him a slightly weak smile.

"The streets will be deserted and quiet," he pointed out. "Jason will probably be happier with going out now than in the daytime. You will probably find that they have gone to get some fresh air to help Jason to sleep better. They will return soon."

Hercules grunted. What Meriones was saying did make a sort of perverse sense and yet he couldn't help being worried. Without knowing which direction the boys had gone in there seemed to be little that he could do other than wait for their return. He reached for the flagon of wine again and settled in to wait for the boys to return.

* * *

The moon washed sea was as still as a millpond as the two young men climbed up over the dunes and skidded down the other side towards the Atlantian beach. In the end it had proved frighteningly easy to leave the city. Apparently their luck had held and tonight had not been a curfew night, and the guard on the gate who had wandered out, sleepy and dull eyed, to challenge their presence had been more concerned with returning to the giggling redhead that Pythagoras caught a glimpse of through the ajar guardroom door than with two unarmed and apparently harmless young men who he clearly thought were sneaking out for some fun of their own away from the prying eyes of the city. Unless there was a curfew or the city was being locked down for some reason it was rare that the populous were not allowed to leave at most hours of the day or night. Atlantis was an important port – an important trading post – and goods tended to arrive from the provinces at all hours. It was not that unusual for a cart to come rumbling through in the middle of the night carrying goods either to or from the city and the guards were used to seeing people of all descriptions passing through the gates. As long as they were not wanted for some crime or did not form some sort of obvious threat, for the most part travellers passing through any of the city gates were allowed to go through undisturbed. As was only natural, the guards would always check to make sure that those passing by were harmless and the guard tonight had seen no reason to detain the two lads and deny them their fun.

The journey to the beach was more treacherous in the dark and several times Pythagoras had slipped or tripped on the rocky path and would have tumbled down into the still water below if a firm hand hadn't darted out and caught him every time. By the time they had reached the sandy track through the dunes they had both been a little out of breath and the final descent over the last and largest dune had been more of a sliding scramble than a properly controlled walk down.

Still, at last they were there. The beach looked very different at night lit by the bright glow of the full, moon. The waves lapped gently at the shoreline, their muted roar the only sound that could be heard. Somehow it would have felt sacrilegious to break the perfect silence and stillness that seemed to pervade this place; the perfect peace. For a while the two young men meandered here and there, Pythagoras allowing himself to be led by Jason's wandering feet. Jason scarcely seemed to acknowledge or even be aware of his presence now that they were away from the city and Pythagoras wondered again at the wisdom of them coming here.

Presently, however, Jason sat down on the cool sand, still slightly damp from the receded tide, and, removing his sandals, buried his feet into the surface, eyes distant as he gazed out at the water and looked up to see the moon and stars. It seemed impossible somehow that this was the same moon that looked down upon his old home; that he had sat on the cliff top looking at so many times. He still wasn't entirely sure whether this place was another world as the Oracle had seemed to suggest at their first meeting – an alternate dimension in all probability – or if he really had gone back in time. All things considered he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to know (although the presence of mythical beings and people alongside real historical characters seemed to indicate that the "other world" theory was more likely). No matter what had changed, however – no matter how much still seemed alien to him – the moon and the stars and the sea had remained the same; had remained constants; unchanged and unchangeable. It all made him feel rather small and insignificant.

Alongside him Pythagoras had dropped down to the sand with an audible sigh. Jason turned to look at him. The young mathematician sat staring out at the waves as though they contained the answer to all the questions in the universe, his face unreadable. Eventually his arm stretched out and wrapped itself around his friend's shoulders the way it had done many times before. Jason smiled softly and leant into the touch his own arm finding its way back around Pythagoras' thin waist. It was all very warm and very comfortable and left the brunette lad with a feeling of peace that spread from somewhere deep inside himself. Eventually Pythagoras turned his head to look at him, his blue eyes serious.

"Jason," he ventured softly.

Once he was aware that he had his friend's full and undivided attention he ploughed on.

"I am really too tired to have this conversation right now and what I say may come out completely wrong – although if it does I hope that you take it the way that I mean it and not the way that it sounds – but I'm going to say it anyway because I think you need to hear this… and I don't think it can wait. At least I don't think it should wait and… oh… I am saying this all wrong already."

A gentle tap on his arm halted his babble and he looked up into the mildly worried hazel eyes. Jason tightened his embracing arm slightly in a silent gesture of support. Pythagoras patted the brunette's free hand in response.

"Sorry," he murmured. "I did not mean to start babbling." He sighed. "What I meant to say was that I know you cannot talk to me at the moment and I do not care."

He felt Jason stiffen alongside him and hurried to reassure his friend before he could retreat once more.

"What I mean is that I do not care if you cannot speak. You are still you and you are still my friend… and always will be. If you never say another word I will still love you as my friend; as my brother. Hercules was right when he said we are a family." He paused again for a moment to collect his thoughts. "I would not care if you never spoke again but I think you would… Jason you have never put limits on yourself. Do not start now. You offered yourself as a sacrifice to the Minotaur in the place of someone you barely knew because you believed that it was your destiny to kill him. When Medusa was kidnapped you literally kicked in the gates of Tartarus with Hercules to save her. You have faced everything that has been thrown at you; have saved my life – all our lives – more times than I care to think of. You are brave and noble and good-hearted. Do not let another's actions dictate the course of your life."

Jason stared at him for a moment and then turned to look out to sea, his mind racing. After all that had happened – after all that he had come to believe – he could hardly believe it when he heard Pythagoras describe them as family; as brothers. And yet his friend's eyes shone with his sincerity. That he was telling the truth Jason had no doubt. All of his old fears and insecurities seemed to burn away in the fire of Pythagoras' faith and love. No matter what demons haunted him, no matter what horrors his mind conjured to tear at him and drive him to his knees, this was something real; something he could cling to. He let his head drop onto his friend's shoulder even as he continued to gaze out to sea, more at peace than he had felt for a long time. Pythagoras smiled and adjusted his grip on his friend, securing his arm more firmly around the brunette lad.

Sitting there in the moonlight, content in each other's company and both fully and completely relaxed for the first time in days, time seemed to stand still. It was all too easy to lose track. After a while Pythagoras felt Jason shiver against him in spite of the borrowed cloak that was wrapped around his friend's shoulders. Really, now that he thought of it, he was actually no warmer himself. Meriones had been right in what he had said that morning – winter was very nearly upon them and the night air was decidedly chilly. Pythagoras gently started to push Jason back up into a full sitting position, allowing his arm to drop from around his companion's shoulders. Jason turned to look at him questioningly.

"We should be getting back now," Pythagoras said firmly. "It is getting too cold to be out here" He stood up and offered a hand to his friend.

Jason nodded and smiled softly, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet before they turned and started to make the journey back to Atlantis.


	25. Chapter 25

A/N Thank you all for the lovely reviews. They really do make my day!

Please let me know what you think this time too...

* * *

Pasiphae stood in the window of her chambers looking out across the peaceful courtyard below. Everything was still and silent. Even the night birds seemed to have gone to bed in this the deepest part of the night and the Queen could almost believe that time itself had stood still. The full moon shone down across Palace and bathed Pasiphae's upturned face in its pale light. She took a deep breath of cool air, relishing the cold, fresh feeling in her lungs. The nights were definitely beginning to turn colder, she noted almost clinically, and the days would not be far behind. Winter was rapidly approaching and the violent storm that had blown in almost a week earlier was a harbinger of things to come.

Pasiphae pulled her shawl a little tighter around her shoulders. The silver shot silk nightdress that she customarily wore in bed was beautiful but did little to keep out the chill and soon she would need to wear sandals even in her own chambers to stop the cold that rose up from the tiled floor from permeating her bones.

The Queen gazed up at the moon as her thoughts wandered. As a practitioner of the magic arts – of witchcraft – her primary allegiance should be to Hecate, and yet somehow she felt a natural affinity with Selene, the goddess of the moon. It was perhaps the last remnant of the young girl who had arrived in Atlantis all those years ago to be married to the then crown prince, Aeson. And she had been so very young – almost innocent – and certainly not the powerful political animal she had become. Theirs had been an arranged marriage – as the marriages in the upper echelons of society always were – and she had not actually met her husband to be before her wedding day. At least Ariadne would be spared that if Pasiphae's plans came to fruition – although why she should care about her step-daughter's feelings she did not know. Still she had _tried_ to be a mother to the girl once upon a time; had tried to use her to replace her own lost son and assuage her grief. It had not worked and as Ariadne had grown so had their mutual distrust and dislike, until it turned to anger and hatred; bordering at times on all-out war.

Aeson had been kind and gentle at first (this was after all long before she had declared war upon him) and had clearly been besotted by his new bride. Pasiphae, however, had felt nothing although she had tried hard to be a good wife at first. The love she had been assured would grow between herself and her husband had never developed on her part and she had found herself trapped and powerless in a loveless marriage to a man who she grew to despise more with every passing year. At first she had been convinced that the lack of feeling for her husband was directly linked to her grief over her father's recent death (she had been completely honest in what she had told Ariadne all those weeks ago even if the girl had chosen not to believe her). Eventually though, as the weeks had turned into months and the months into years and the recriminations over her lack of ability to produce an heir had grown, she had come to accept that she would never feel for Aeson what he felt for her. She had searched for something to fill her empty life and heart, and had discovered power – pure, ultimate power. Aeson had proved easy to charm – easy to deceive – but less easy to manipulate. Raised to be King he had been unwilling to share his power with his beautiful and dangerous young wife.

Would things have turned out differently if he had, Pasiphae wondered as she padded across to her dressing table and sat down, beginning the task of brushing her long and still lustrous hair almost absently. Probably not, she decided. The more power she gained the more she had craved until nothing would satisfy her but to rule – to rule in her own right would be preferable but to rule through a weak, puppet King would give some measure of satisfaction. She had found that man in Minos. Weak but with a burning desire for power he had been perfect for her needs. He was married but that would not prove too much of a problem – his delicate wife could easily be disposed of. As it had turned out, however, the woman had obligingly died in childbirth while bringing her daughter into the world not long after the coup that had deposed Aeson, thereby removing the need for Pasiphae to act against her. As for the rest? Well... Aeson was not nearly as universally loved as he wished to believe. There were always disillusioned and disaffected men ready to rise up in rebellion if you knew where to look.

The only dark spot had been her sudden pregnancy – unexpected after several years of barrenness. Aeson had been beside himself with joy and, along with the members of the court, had showered the Queen with gifts. Pasiphae had been seething, fearing that her grip on power was slipping evermore as her waistline expanded. Once more she was relegated from the capable and intelligent Queen to little more than a brood mare; her desires and whims no longer important as the needs of the baby growing within her belly took precedence with all of those around her. It was as though now, with her ultimate duty nearly fulfilled, she was expected to fade into the background; to content herself with a half-life lived in the shadows; to only wish to be a mother to one or more snivelling children. How she had hated the babe – the _thing_. Had hated the interloper whose presence she felt more with each passing day. Had imagined it growing within her, a shrivelled, twisted thing; a tumour that she longed to cut out.

When he had been born after so many long hours of agony and exhaustion, she had turned her face away. Let others look after the brat; coo over him. She had heard and ignored the exultations of the midwives, bubbling over with joy at the birth of a healthy male heir. What did she care that he had his father's dark hair? That he seemed strong and healthy? This child – this thing – had come to rob her of her power and identity, and she hated him for it.

Then the head midwife, bolder than the rest and believing the Queen to simply be tired, had placed the squalling bundle ("good strong lungs" they had congratulated each other) into her arms. The baby had quieted instantly, his affronted new-born wail trailing off as he looked up trustingly and sleepily at his mother, and Pasiphae had been forced to face her son for the first time.

He had been such a beautiful baby. Pasiphae didn't know why it should surprise her so much even looking back after all these years. After all his father had been a handsome man and she had been regarded as a beauty in her youth – was still described with words such as "elegant", "regal" and "attractive". The instant she had looked into that tiny face, Pasiphae had been captivated. And when he had wrapped one of his tiny, perfect hands around her finger (why did everyone remark on the size and perfection of a baby's hands? What were they expecting? Lobster claws?) she had been utterly lost. For the first time in years the emptiness in her heart had been filled by something other than the thirst for power and the Queen of Atlantis had felt love.

By the time Aeson had arrived, noble and beneficent and every inch the King, she had decided upon a name – Jason. The perfect name for her perfect child, his name signifying everything she felt he could become to her; her healer; her cure. It was Aeson's right to name his son seven days after birth of course (and to change his mind about that name at any time afterwards) in keeping with tradition, but he had been so besotted with the child and so grateful to her for giving him a perfect heir that he had been benevolent; had been willing to agree to anything she wanted. He didn't love her in the same way he had when they were first married, but he had to admit that his wife was beautiful, and right now she was radiant. For a moment he was as besotted with her as he was with his son, and watching her husband cradling her son Pasiphae had felt a surge of affection towards the man.

It hadn't lasted of course and now, here in her chambers, Pasiphae wondered how anyone had ever thought it could. All the wasted years crept up on her again and she once more found herself cursing Aeson's name; wishing that she had done something far worse than simply give him leprosy. She had a grown son she did not know thanks to him – although she believed she knew Jason a little better than she had thanks to Ariadne. The girl had proved remarkably forthcoming with information about the young man she loved. Part of Pasiphae marvelled at the Princess' generosity in this, while the other part – the hard, cynical part – wondered what Ariadne would want in return. It was almost as though the girl had been longing to talk to someone about Jason and with a start Pasiphae realised that she probably had. The death of Korinna had robbed Ariadne of her only real confidante and Ione had never really managed to take the dead girl's place. Ione's betrayal had further isolated Ariadne, leaving her lonely. The chance to talk about her beloved Jason had tempted the girl and had proved too much to resist, and she had found herself telling her hated step-mother things she had never intended to confess. Pasiphae had drunk in all the information eagerly, longing to know the young man her beloved baby had grown into a little better. While the relationship between the two women was still far from cordial, the common ground they had found was allowing them to co-operate.

Pasiphae smiled softly, pausing with the brush poised above her hair. She still could not really stand the insufferable brat, but it would be far better if Ariadne did not actively oppose her plans both for Jason and the future.

She sighed, suddenly. Jason. Everything kept coming back to Jason. Where exactly was the lad right now? Her sources told her he had left his friend's house (she still could not bring herself to think of such a hovel as being her son's home) on the night of the storm, some six nights ago, looking extremely upset and he had not been seen since. He had certainly not returned to the house and to all intents and purposes seemed to have disappeared off the face of the planet. Perhaps he had left Atlantis? Pasiphae's heart constricted at the thought of losing her son again. Not that she could openly acknowledge him of course but she could at least _see_ him and know he was well. His two friends had not been at home for the last few days either and before that the clever one had been seen wandering around the streets looking pale and tired with a permanent expression of worry on his face. Both Jason's regular companions had been seen in the city as lately as today, however, but neither of them seemed to be in her son's company. Pasiphae was growing increasingly worried and had sent out extra spies to seek news of the young man. She had even looked out for him at Alektryon's execution – not that she had really expected him to be there in her heart of hearts. Jason did not seem to possess that sort of vindictiveness in any way and Ariadne had informed her that he was not happy with any form of capital punishment. Still she herself had been only too pleased to see the man who had tried to hurt her son in such a horrible way disposed of. She had not taken that much pleasure in an execution since the guard who had claimed to have killed her child more than twenty years previously.

She sighed again. This would never do. Sitting up into the night worrying about Jason would not help anyone and would only cause her to be overly tired in the morning. That in turn could lead her enemies to speculate as to the reason for her tiredness and worry. She could not risk her secret being found out so soon or in that way; could not risk harm coming to Jason. No, it would be far better to get a good night's sleep and question her spies again in the morning. Someone somewhere must know where the lad was. Pasiphae put down the hairbrush and moved to the bed, slipping in under the heavy covers and allowing herself to drop into a deep and dreamless sleep.

* * *

Hercules was pacing. Meriones had long since worked out the number of steps that it took his old friend to march to one end of the room, turn and come back, before beginning the circuit all over again. The huge merchant looked up from the document he was struggling to read in the dim lamplight with a frown. Once it had become apparent that the two boys were not just in the street outside the house and that the two older men might have some time to wait for their return, Meriones had fetched some work to be getting on with. He had tried at first to distract Hercules with a game of dice but that had proved fruitless and so had decided to look over some of the plans he had for the distribution of Onias' perfumes. If he had to stay up all night then it seemed practical to make use of the time – although he was working with a flagon of wine at his elbow. Hercules' relentless pacing, however, was making it awfully hard to concentrate, so Meriones looked up with a glower, fully intending to make the burly wrestler sit down and keep quiet.

One look at Hercules and he changed his mind. Clearly the man was about to fly apart with worry. Earlier he had sat at the table to wait for his younger friends but by now he was so worked up that sitting still did not seem to be an option and he looked like he was almost ready to fly out of the door to search for the young men.

"Where are they?" he growled for the umpteenth time.

"My friend I am sure that they are alright," Meriones tried to reassure him. "They are both fully grown men and are more than capable of looking after themselves."

Hercules stared at him incredulously.

"Look after themselves?" he repeated. "Pythagoras trips over his own feet if you so much as look at him and Jason could find trouble in an empty house. I'll grant you that he's not normally too bad at getting out of it but he's hardly thinking clearly at the moment… and neither one of them is armed."

"You are worrying too much," Meriones ventured soothingly. "There is no reason to believe that they are in any trouble."

"Oh they're in trouble alright," Hercules growled darkly. "I'll teach them both not to worry me like this."

Meriones struggled not to laugh in the face of his friend's peeved comment. Where the two younger men were concerned the burly wrestler was like a mother bear whose cubs were threatened. It was almost amusing to see feckless, irresponsible Hercules – a man who had spent his life pleasing himself and trying to avoid responsibility – acting almost as Meriones imagined a father would. The boys certainly brought out the best in his old friend, he mused.

Of course he _was_ fairly worried himself no matter what he had tried to convince Hercules to the contrary. The simple truth was that Pythagoras was singularly appalling at self-defence – was completely and utterly useless with any sort of weapon and in fact was more likely to cut _himself_ if you gave him a sword than to stab an adversary – and Jason's somewhat vulnerable mental state meant that, while he could usually be counted on to protect Pythagoras no matter what, it was unclear whether he would even recognise a threat at the moment. Still, one of them needed to remain composed and rational and, as Hercules seemed incapable of that, it fell to him to hide his worries and attempt to keep his old friend calm.

"Hercules, sit down," he advised firmly.

"We should go and find them," Hercules muttered, completely ignoring Meriones' advice.

"And where do you propose we start? Do you somehow have more knowledge than I about their whereabouts? If so then perhaps you should tell me."

Hercules gazed as his huge friend helplessly.

"Old friend I am as concerned as you are," Meriones continued, "but without knowing where Pythagoras and Jason have gone, there is little we can do other than wait. It would be no good at all for us to race off into the night only to have either one of the boys return here needing our help and for neither of us to be here."

Hercules grunted and stomped over to the table, throwing himself down onto the bench with an audible thud and reaching for the wine flagon. He was anxious and angry, afraid of what might happen to his boys on the streets at night if they had no real protection, conflicted about how to approach Jason with his suspicions and beliefs about what had happened to the lad, and unsure of what else he could do to put his little family back together and back to normal. All in all he needed a drink. Seeing all this, and without needing to be asked, Meriones poured a cup out for his old friend – which Hercules took more than gratefully.

A soft noise from the stairway leading to the street made both men look up expectantly. The noise grew louder – scuffing feet and a voice, quiet in deference to the late hour but light and full of laughter. Then the door was quietly pushed open and the two boys tiptoed into the room, clearly trying to make as little noise as possible, Pythagoras' arm slung lightly around Jason's shoulders. Both young men were smiling and relaxed – if a little out of breath – and damp sand clung to the folds of the cloaks they both wore and to the back of their trousers. Meriones narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. He had a feeling that he now knew where the lads had been but it seemed strange that they would have chosen to go out of the city so late at night – especially with all the dangers that could have been lurking on the coastal path. He turned to look at his old friend, trying to gauge Hercules' reaction to the two boys' appearances. In spite of his obvious ire at them for wandering off so late at night and making him worry so much, Hercules looked pleased. Meriones hid a smile behind his hand. The bulky wrestler's bark had always been worse than his bite and seeing his surrogate sons happy was clearly making him happy in turn. It was equally clear, however, that he still intended to give them a piece of his mind – a sentiment that Meriones whole heartedly agreed with.

As the boys crept further into the room Pythagoras glanced around. The double-take he did when he noticed Hercules and Meriones sitting at the table, both with their arms folded and eyebrows raised, with identical expressions on their faces, was comical. He yelped and jumped back into Jason, who caught the mathematician's arms to steady him and prevent him from falling.

"Did you have a nice walk?" Hercules asked deceptively calmly.

Pythagoras gulped.

"Er… well… that is… erm… yes… well," he stuttered.

Hercules gave him a long hard look.

Pythagoras gulped again.

"We… erm… that is… Jason woke me up," he babbled, trying to explain. "He wanted to go out for a walk and I did not think I should let him go alone, so I went with him."

"And you didn't think that maybe it would have been a better idea to wait until morning?" Hercules asked. "Or at least leave a note to tell me where you had gone?"

"Jason seemed so keen and I thought he might go on his own if I did not go with him," Pythagoras said. "I did not think that we would be gone long and I thought that you were asleep. I wasn't entirely sure exactly where we were going but I did not think it would be too far."

Hercules glared.

"And it never occurred to you that it might be dangerous for the pair of you to be out so late at night or that I might wake up and find you were gone and be worried?" Hercules growled loudly, his voice beginning to rise. "I thought you were supposed to be the clever one!"

He was reserving most of his ire for Pythagoras partly because he felt that the young genius really should have known better and partly, it had to be said, because the last argument he had had with Jason had had such a disastrous effect. He was uncertain under the circumstances whether Jason was actually emotionally strong enough to take a scolding at the moment and did not want to risk the young man becoming overwhelmed and retreating back into the detached and withdrawn state they had all been working so hard to coax him out of.

He was somewhat surprised, therefore, to find Jason stepping between himself and the young mathematician protectively, eyes flashing fire. The young man gestured to himself and his blonde friend, before holding one hand a couple of feet from the floor and shaking his head vigorously.

"I know you aren't children," Hercules answered, "but you certainly both act enough like it at times." He paused and breathed deeply, trying to retain some grip on his temper. "Where did you go anyway?"

Pythagoras shifted awkwardly and looked at his feet, knowing that Hercules would be distinctly unhappy with the fact that they had been outside the city. As he fidgeted some sand dropped from the folds of his cloak to land in a dusty heap around his feet. Hercules stared at the pile for a moment before jerking his eyes up to look incredulously at the young man. He knew of nowhere within Atlantis itself that Pythagoras could have got that much sand on his clothing, which left just one possibility.

"You've been to the beach?" he asked disbelievingly. He stood up abruptly and stalked away from the table muttering curse words as he paced.

"Hercules," Pythagoras began in a conciliatory tone – knowing that he would have to ride out the storm of his old friend's anger but wanting to spare Jason from the backlash as much as he could by keeping Hercules' attention on himself.

Hercules turned back towards them.

"Sit down," he ordered. "We need to talk."

"Hercules," Pythagoras tried again, even as he and Jason sat down at the table almost automatically.

"When I said we needed to talk what I actually meant was that I am going to talk and you are both going to listen," Hercules growled.

Pythagoras wisely held his tongue this time. He knew from experience that now was not the moment to upset Hercules even further – in the past it had resulted in him being dangled head first from the balcony.

"I cannot understand what you were thinking in going out, and to leave the city was even greater foolishness. Still at least you made sure that you had protection," the big man continued sarcastically. "Oh that's right _you didn't_. You didn't even take his sword with you," he gesticulated towards Jason.

"At least they have returned unharmed," Meriones rumbled placatingly, attempting to appease Hercules' temper before his old friend said something that he might later regret.

"That is beside the point," Hercules groused testily. "The coastal path is treacherous in the dark. What would have happened if one of them had fallen?"

Pythagoras chose to stay silent, deciding that it was better if Hercules did not know just how close that had come to happening – there had been several occasions both on the journey to and from the beach when the only thing that had kept him from falling from the rocky edge of the path down into the water below was Jason's lightning quick reflexes and firm grasp.

"And once you get out among the dunes there are scorpions and all sorts," Hercules continued, "and you know they're more active at night. In the dark you wouldn't have seen them until it was too late."

Pythagoras blinked, feeling increasingly guilty. He had never even thought of the wild creatures that could have attacked them in the dark once they were away from the city – at the time the biggest dangers had seemed to him to lurk in the city streets.

"It's cold tonight too," Hercules said. "I suppose that at least you took cloaks to keep warm but aside from that neither of you are exactly dressed to keep out the chill."

He paused and drew a deep, shuddering breath before plunging on with what he wanted to say.

"What if you had been attacked tonight?" he said. "What if there had been someone else like Alektryon lurking in the darkness? Do you really think he's in any fit state to fight someone like that off?" He gestured towards Jason.

Pythagoras looked stricken. Of all the things he had imagined when they were out in the streets, it had never occurred to him that there might be someone else like Alektryon out there. The worst he had thought there might be lurking in the darkness was a robber or a guard patrol. He mentally berated himself for not thinking of that possibility. Hercules was right. He had exposed both himself and Jason to unreasonable risk because he had not considered the full consequences of giving in to the brunette's desires. He shuddered as he thought of what might have happened.

Hercules watched him for a moment, seeing the play of emotions across the young face, before turning towards his other young companion. Jason looked back at him emotionlessly, eyes knowing. Hercules winced. Jason, it appeared, had known exactly what sort of horrors might be awaiting him in the darkness (and that told his older friend plenty in itself) but had been too desperate to get outside to care. Suddenly the big man felt very tired and very old.

"I'm too fond of you both to want to see either one of you come to harm," Hercules muttered thickly. "You have no idea what it was like to find your beds empty tonight. You have no idea how worried I was…" he broke off, unable to continue.

Pythagoras was on his feet in an instant.

"I am sorry," he murmured. "I did not think. I would never want to worry you like this."

He made his way over to his big friend and threw his arms around the man, deeply upset at the thought that he had caused his friend any distress. Hercules returned the hug wholeheartedly before a noise made him turn, still keeping one arm around the mathematician, to see Jason approach from the other side. The dark haired lad looked at him apologetically, silently asking for permission to join in. Hercules gave a soft half-smile and opened his free arm expansively. Jason didn't hesitate any further and threw his arms around the burly wrestler too. Hercules for his part wrapped his free arm around the lad's shoulders and stood still, one boy burrowed in to his side on each side. He looked up to see Meriones watching him with a smile which he returned with a nod. His boys were with him and they were both unharmed. All was once again alright with the world.

* * *

The last five days had been strange, Pythagoras thought with a sigh as he stretched and prepared to get out of bed. There were times when everything seemed almost normal. And yet nothing was actually normal. They were still (to all intents and purposes) living in Meriones' house and Jason was still not speaking to them – was still not making any conscious sounds. It had been a week and a half now and his friends were beginning to get deeply concerned about the young man's lack of verbalisation given that in all other respects he seemed to be getting back to normal. Still, they had fallen easily into a routine. They rose each day to have breakfast together, after which Meriones would go to the tavern to keep an eye on his business dealings while the other three went about their everyday tasks around the house. Sometimes Hercules would wander out to the tavern, and sometimes Pythagoras would get out his work and start studying triangles, while Jason watched the world go by from his favourite window seat. Other times they would wander down to Meriones' bathhouse. More often, though, one or the other of them would look up to find that the brunette had wandered out into Meriones' little courtyard garden, usually with the kitten in tow, and could be found lying on one of the benches, watching the clouds go by – though what he saw when he looked at them neither Hercules nor Pythagoras could guess – or dangling one hand languidly into the central sunken pool watching the ripples created in the water, or playing with Isosceles. Then, after a light dinner, and after Meriones had returned Hercules would take Pythagoras out for a few hours, returning in time for supper. Later on in the night, the two boys would wander off for a walk after the sun had gone down and the streets had largely become deserted – although they now went with Hercules in tow. Neither of them wanted to risk upsetting the big man again the way they had five nights ago with their impromptu visit to the beach. Once they were back at Meriones' house the giant would usually persuade Jason to drink whatever sleeping draught Pythagoras had concocted (he had become noticeably better at dealing with the headstrong side of Jason over the last few days) and one by one they would drift off to bed.

It was interesting, Pythagoras mused, but since returning from that trip to the beach Jason had contented himself with wandering about the streets of the city – never venturing as far as he had that first night. They had visited the Temple (although they had not gone in) and the exterior of the Palace, the city walls and the agora. Then last night Jason had finally decided to go home. It had not been something his friends had expected him to do. But then when did Jason ever do the expected, Pythagoras wondered. They had been caught out last night by the fact that it was a curfew night – something that none of them had remembered – and had had to run from a patrol. Dashing through the streets to get away and hiding in various doorways it had felt like old times. So much so that neither Hercules nor Pythagoras had noticed the direction they were heading in once they had evaded the patrol until they were at the door to their own house. As it was Jason had seemed so relaxed and confident that the other two had just looked at each other and shrugged, before following him in. It had been strange to find that their home felt so empty. They had all been away from it before for days at a time of course, but somehow this time felt different. Pythagoras had taken the opportunity to gather up some scrolls he had left behind when they had left the other day, shoving them into the bag that Jason usually used when they went on journeys, surmising that his friend would not mind too much, while Hercules had raided the cupboards in search of a late night snack and a drink, grunting the occasional curse when he discovered another empty wine skin. Jason had wandered over to his bed and disappeared under it (much to Pythagoras' concern as he knew his friend's propensity for simply shoving things out of sight under there whether they were sharp or not), coming back out covered in dust but with something in his hands that he quickly bundled up in the cleaning rag that he usually used for his sword and wandering over to drop it into the open bag that Pythagoras had collected his scrolls in. Pythagoras' curiosity was instantly piqued but he stifled it manfully and went back to searching his room for stray bits of forgotten mathematical equipment. It had been truly unnerving both how normal and how unnatural it felt to see Jason puttering around their home. Pythagoras put it down to his friend's complete silence. Usually Jason would make some noise, even at times when he was being quiet, and Pythagoras had even begun to recognise some of the tunes he often hummed under his breath (even if the mathematician could not actually give a name to any of them) and to recognise the sort of mood his friend was in based on the tune. Eventually Jason had drifted out onto the balcony and had sat down with his back to a pillar, gazing up at the stars. Hercules had joined him out there, drink in hand and for a short while everything had seemed wonderfully normal. Of course they had made their way back to Meriones' house in the end but Pythagoras had been more than encouraged by the turn of events. The evening had ended with Jason managing to slip off to bed before Meriones had a chance to give him any sort of sedative – the first time in a few days that he had managed to outwit the huge man. Meriones had followed him into his room but had come back out presently with the full cup still in his hand, to report that he had found Jason sprawled contentedly on the bed, fast asleep with Isosceles already in her customary place on top of him. Meriones had felt that it would rather defeat the object to wake the lad up in order to give him a sleeping draught so he had bid his friends goodnight and retired to his own chambers.

Now it was morning and Pythagoras had woken up refreshed. He wondered how well his friend had slept, however, given Jason's propensity towards insomnia. Well he wasn't going to find out by spending all day in bed. He stretched again, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. He slowly stood up and ran a practiced hand through his hair, trying to tame the fluffy curls without the use of a comb or mirror. Not that these things were unavailable in the room that Meriones had lent him of course – it was more that Pythagoras could not actually be bothered to cross the room to do it properly. He tied his belt around his waist, slipped his feet into his sandals and tied the laces and prepared to face the day.

He found Meriones already up and around and sitting at the kitchen table, trying to work through the same document that he had been studying last night. Over the past few days Pythagoras had come to realise that the enormous man's eyesight was not as good as it had perhaps once been and he found reading small handwriting a chore. He sighed wishing there was something that he could do to help the giant who had been so kind to them – but particularly to Jason. As it was though the young man, despite his studies in medicine (a subject which he found interesting – if not quite so interesting as triangles), knew of no way to counteract the weakening of the eyes that seemed to come as the years passed. Meriones looked up and smiled.

"Good morning my friend," he said brightly. "I was wondering whether you all intended to sleep all day. I have been up for several hours now and was beginning to feel lonely." His smile grew to show that he was only joking and his eyes sparkled with mirth.

Before Pythagoras could respond another door opened and Jason wandered out to join them. The brunette lad looked well rested for once, much to his blonde friend's relief, and smiled in greeting.

"Ah," Meriones said. "Now we are only waiting for Hercules. Should we go ahead and start breakfast without him?"

"Without who?" Hercules rumbled, coming over to the table. Pythagoras jumped slightly, not having heard the big wrestler come in.

"Did you sleep well?" Hercules added looking at Pythagoras.

"Very," the mathematician answered, turning away to start gathering things for breakfast.

"How about you?" Hercules asked.

"Yes. Thanks." The voice that came from somewhere behind Pythagoras was quiet, barely above a whisper. It was also unmistakably Jason's.


	26. Chapter 26

A/N A big thank you to everyone who has reviewed this story so far. I have tried to respond to as many of those messages as I could personally but I would just like to thank jmp here because there's no other way I can do it. So thank you.

I have to admit I have taken some liberties in this chapter with the festival of Apatouria. It was a three day paternity festival and the names given to those three days are accurate but in reality it was not really about the family as such and was more about the _phratria_ to which a man belonged. It was, however, the occasion on which young men became citizens. Specifically the festival related to Athens but I have extended it to Atlantis too as it might have been celebrated in other areas of ancient Greece.

Please let me know what you think of this chapter.

* * *

Pythagoras froze, his back suddenly ramrod straight. For a moment those two softly spoken little words seemed to hang in air that had become remarkably thick and heavy all of a sudden. Then he turned, spinning so fast on his heel that he all but staggered sideways into the table an incredulous but joyful beam gracing his thin face. He took a step towards his friend but stopped, his bright smile dimming as Jason shifted his weight, unconsciously preparing to take a step backwards, his eyes wild. A stunned silence filled the air. Nobody spoke.

Jason shifted awkwardly. Everyone was staring at him. Had he done something wrong by speaking? It had happened so suddenly, so naturally, that he hadn't really had time to think about what he was doing or to wonder where his voice had come from after so many days of being unable to speak. It was as though one minute the words weren't there and the next they were; as though his brain and his mouth had started talking to each other and working together again. And so he had spoken without a second thought. Now though, with his friends' eyes staring at him, he wondered if he had made the right choice. Perhaps they didn't want him to speak. Yet Pythagoras was smiling so widely and Hercules was looking at him with an expression of such amazed pleasure (an expression he had only seen before when the man had discovered that the pastry seller on the corner had come up with a new type of pie) that he didn't know what to think. And the air felt heavier than usual – it was getting harder to breathe and when he did he could hear the sound of his own breath coming harshly; short, fast little gasps as the room seemed to close in slightly.

Meriones smiled broadly.

"I am glad you have had a good night," he said, turning away. He looked casually back over his shoulder. "I think breakfast is in order. Would you take the plates through to the dining room while I sort out the food?"

Jason nodded, ridiculously grateful to the huge man for giving him something to do; something to focus on and cling to. His breathing began to slow back down again and he smiled weakly.

"Yes," he murmured quietly, beginning to gather up the crockery.

As Jason carried the dishes and plates into the dining room Meriones caught hold of Hercules' arm.

"Do not make a fuss of this," he cautioned both of his companions. "Do not act as though it is a big thing."

"But it is a big thing," Hercules protested.

"Yes," Meriones agreed, "but I think it would still be all too easy to overwhelm Jason and push him back into silence. I believe that it will be better to simply treat Jason as though he has been speaking all along. To not remark upon the fact that he was mute for so many days."

Hercules sighed.

"You're right," he said, "and I would never want to do anything that might upset Jason. But there _are_ things that we need to talk about."

"Indeed," Meriones agreed, "but not yet. Allow the boy to become comfortable with talking to you again first old friend. There will be plenty of time for talking later." He released Hercules' arm. "But first we must eat!"

Pythagoras rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Meriones was very nearly as driven by his stomach as Hercules was and his apparent need to be a good host on all occasions drove him to lay on more food than most people could eat at every meal. It was fortunate, Pythagoras supposed, that Hercules was one of his guests then. The burly wrestler could be counted on to empty almost any table of victuals no matter how much had been laid on. The young mathematician began to gather up breads and pastries, cheeses and fruits, and started to take them through to the dining room, as always needing to help. He had to admit that he thought Meriones was probably right in his assessment. Jason _could_ potentially become all too easily overwhelmed at the moment and perhaps it _would_ be better not to call attention to the fact that he was suddenly speaking again. But the young genius' heart still sang with joy at the thought. His friend was getting better; was coming back to them more and more each day. There _were_ still things that they needed to talk about and Pythagoras was almost desperate to know what was going on in his friend's head and to help him – to reassure him – but now was not the time.

As he entered the dining room, arms full of food, the inevitable happened and Pythagoras tripped over his own feet. He would have fallen, and with his arms full would have been unable to stop himself, if a pair of hands hadn't darted out and caught him firmly, setting him back on his feet with only a single pastry dropped. Without a word Jason picked up the lost cake and blew it off, depositing it onto the table with a grin.

"Hercules can have that one," Pythagoras said with wry amusement. "He will not even notice any dust."

"He'll probably think it's extra flavouring," Jason murmured softly.

Pythagoras started to laugh, his heart buoyed up by the fact that his friend had attempted to make a joke – a touch of his usual humour coming through. Jason looked startled for a moment before starting to giggle helplessly himself. By the time Meriones and Hercules entered the room the two boys were clutching each other's arms for support, snorting with laughter. Both the burly wrestler and his huge friend stopped for a moment in stunned but happy silence. Finally Hercules came forward and placed a meaty hand on each lad's shoulder. Both young men jumped slightly, although their helpless giggling did not cease and in fact increased when they saw their bulky friend. Hercules rolled his eyes.

"I really can't leave you two alone for a moment can I?" he said with fond exasperation.

To be fair both boys did _try_ to sober up but every time they caught each other's eyes they dissolved once again into fits of giggling. It wasn't as if the original joke had been all that funny but somehow they both needed this release; needed to let go of the tension that had clung to them all for some time now. While it had been true that Pythagoras had spent days trying to get Jason to relax a little, he had been consumed by worry himself. This fit of laughter seemed to release those worries all in one go. Hercules smiled indulgently and propelled the boys towards their seats.

"Just sit down and try to calm your hysterics," he said with gruff affection. "Meriones and I will do the work and bring breakfast."

As he turned away from the table to go and help his old friend serve the rest of the food, Hercules spotted the single, solitary pastry sitting all alone on the edge. Completely unselfconsciously he swept it up and took a big bite.

"Does it taste good?" Pythagoras enquired innocently, although his eyes danced with laughter and his voice bubbled with supressed mirth.

"Delicious," Hercules answered around a mouthful of cake, spraying crumbs in all direction.

The two boys exploded into helpless giggles once more. Hercules shook his head in confusion, unable to work out just what was amusing his friends so much.

"Children!" he muttered under his breath as he made his way back out of the room.

Meriones stood in the doorway, his massive arms folded, grinning openly. He was amused by Hercules' paternal exasperation at his young friends' antics.

As Hercules drew level with the huge man he raised an eyebrow.

"What?" he asked.

"Nothing," Meriones responded with a smile, clapping his old friend on the shoulder.

By the time they had returned to the dining room, the two lads appeared to have largely got themselves back under control – although Pythagoras still looked a little red in the face from laughter and was wiping the remnants of tears from the corners of his eyes. They straightened as the two older men walked in.

"I thought I might go to the library today," Pythagoras said brightly.

Meriones looked at him blankly.

"But today is the first day of Apatouria," he protested.

Pythagoras blushed, embarrassed that after the turmoil of the last couple of weeks he had completely forgotten the date. A touch on his sleeve made him look up to see Jason looking back at him with a query in his hazel eyes. For once Pythagoras was extremely grateful for his friend's lack of knowledge of the local customs as it allowed him to overcome his embarrassment by explaining the significance of the day.

"Apatouria is a festival of paternity," he explained, his voice once again taking on the "school teacher" note. "It takes place over three days, two weeks after Proerosia. The first day is Dorpeia when the members of a family gather together for a feast. The second is Anarrhysis when we make offerings to the patron god of the family – most Atlantians make offerings to Poseidon – and the last day is Cureotis. That is the day when the sons of a family are welcomed into the phratria – the brotherhood. They are presented first at sixteen when their father will swear an oath that they are legitimately born. The members of his phratria then vote to enter the son's name into their register. They will then be presented again at eighteen, when their father will again swear an oath that they are the sons of a legitimate marriage and their names will be entered onto the rolls, making them full citizens of Atlantis. It can happen later in life if a young man is adopted. It is a very solemn and important occasion in the life of any young Atlantian. I myself went through a similar rite on Samos. My mother's uncle stood in for my father."

"Enough talk. Eat first. Explain later," Meriones said, helping himself to a large portion of food. "This evening we will have a family feast."

Jason blinked at him, startled by the proclamation. Then a slow shy smile started to spread across his face. He looked down at his plate, peering up at the giant merchant from under his eyelashes. Meriones smiled affectionately, knowing from conversations with both Hercules and Pythagoras that Jason was far from used to having anyone claiming him as part of their family.

The rest of breakfast was a distinctly cheerful affair. Hercules and Meriones spent much of it alternating between gorging themselves and poking fun at one another, their comments fuelled by their long shared history. Every so often Pythagoras would join in, using his quick wit to throw in a barbed comment here and there – usually at Hercules' expense. Jason still did not say much but watched the banter with obvious amusement, laughing quietly to himself whenever a particularly funny insult was delivered. The soft chuckles were like music to his friends' ears. He did, it had to be said, occasionally forget that he was supposed to be eating as he enjoyed the wit and company of his companions but a sharp tap on the arm or plate from Hercules, combined with a raised eyebrow was all it really took to draw his attention back to his breakfast. Still, the big man was less than satisfied with his younger friend's appetite.

"These spiced pears are truly excellent," he complemented Meriones.

"Thank you," the giant responded. "The secret is to soak them in warmed honey for an hour or so before adding the spices and stewing them."

"Well they certainly make breakfast a pleasure to eat," Hercules declared, perhaps a little obviously. "Speaking of which I'd like to see a bit more from you on that front," he added turning towards a startled Jason.

"Sorry," Jason answered quietly. "I guess I haven't been all that hungry lately." His voice was still barely louder than a whisper yet all his friends heard him quite clearly.

"We'd noticed," Hercules rumbled sternly, "and it wouldn't hurt you to put a bit more effort in. You can't really afford to lose all that much weight. If you carry on the way you're going you're going to end up as skinny as him." He gesticulated towards Pythagoras.

Jason bit his lip and flushed slightly, both embarrassed and slightly annoyed that attention had once again been called to his eating habits. Really would it hurt Hercules not to nag? Still he tried to force down a few more mouthfuls of breakfast to please the older man.

Hercules nodded and smiled.

"Well then," he said, pleased at his young friend's acquiescence, "I must be off out. If we're to have a feast tonight there's food to be bought."

"Just try not to eat it all on the way back this time," Pythagoras said.

"Would I do something like that?" Hercules asked in a hurt tone of voice.

"Yes." All three of his companions answered at once.

"You certainly have every time I have asked you to collect supplies for a festival," Pythagoras said coolly. "And last Apatouria you drank all the sacred wine as well. I found you passed out drunk in an animal pen… and goodness knows what had happened to your trousers."

"Do not worry, my friend," Meriones said. "I will be with him and make sure that everything arrives back here safely."

"I actually think that is worse," Pythagoras groaned. "I know what happens when the two of you go out together… just try not to get too drunk before midday."

Both older men shot him identical hurt and innocent looks. Knowing he was beaten, Pythagoras started to clear up the breakfast dishes. After a moment Jason stood and joined him, beginning the tasks that would allow them to prepare for the day.

* * *

Pythagoras looked up from the papyrus he was working on with a frown creasing his forehead. The numbers and angles were being particularly obtuse today and he seemed to be achieving very little no matter how hard he concentrated or how much he buried himself in his work. He had stared at the numbers for so long that his eyes ached and his head was starting to pound. Time for a break and some fresh air then. Perhaps a drink was in order too. Pythagoras had noticed in the past that headaches tended to develop when he hadn't drunk enough or had spent too long reading. He stood and stretched, feeling the aching pull from his shoulders where he had been leaning over the table for too long. Collecting a cup of cool, sweet water from a jug on the table, he made his way over to Jason's favourite window, drinking as he went to slake the suddenly raging thirst that seemed to have developed.

Why did Jason like this particular window so much? As far as Pythagoras could tell the view was nothing particularly special – just a typical street scene. Pythagoras smiled brightly as the thought occurred to him that at least he could ask Jason now. Not that he couldn't have asked before. It was just that there hadn't seemed to be much point when his friend had been unable to speak and therefore unable to answer.

The young mathematician's smile grew even wider. Part of him still couldn't believe that Jason had started talking again. Alright so he hadn't actually said all that much – had retreated to the window seat as soon as breakfast had been cleared away – but that was not the point. The point was that at least now he _could_ talk; was able to speak to them. Pythagoras had been so worried ever since that dreadful night when Jason had run out of the house distraught with Hercules' handprint darkening on his cheek. Now though Pythagoras almost felt like he was waking up after a particularly bad nightmare; like the sun was emerging from behind a cloud. Jason was so much better – was no longer anywhere near as withdrawn as he had been – and hopefully they would soon be going home. Not that Meriones had been anything less than wonderfully generous and kind, but the young mathematician couldn't really wait to get home; couldn't wait to sleep in his own bed.

Where was Jason anyway? The last time Pythagoras had looked he had been sitting right here in the window but the blonde supposed that his friend could have walked past him while he was deep in his work. Jason had probably decided to get some fresh air himself and was likely to be in the courtyard garden.

Actually Pythagoras wasn't really that sure just how much time had passed while he was deep in his triangles. He looked out of the window to gauge the position of the sun. With a start he realised that it was almost directly overhead. It was nearly time for the midday meal. How had he managed to lose track of so much time? Hercules would no doubt have teased him if he were here. Pythagoras rubbed absently at his still throbbing temples. Where was Hercules though? He and Meriones had gone out to buy food for tonight's feast and to fetch wine from one of Meriones' warehouses just after breakfast. While Pythagoras knew that the agora would be even busier than usual today as the population prepared for the evening's festivities, the two men should have been back hours ago. A cursory glance at the kitchen showed that no extra supplies had arrived which ruled out the possibility that the two older men had returned while he was deep in his triangles, left the shopping and gone out again. Pythagoras heaved a sigh of relief. At least he would be saved from Hercules' friendly ribbing. Then he stiffened. If the burly wrestler and his giant friend had not made it back here at all then that really left only one possibility as far as the mathematician could see: they had stopped at a tavern. He shuddered. Hercules on his own in a tavern was bad enough but add Meriones into the situation and it became akin to a natural disaster. Sooner or later they would get into a drinking contest – which to Pythagoras' knowledge Hercules had _never_ won – and eventually he would be required to go and find his bulky friend, rescue him from whatever embarrassing predicament he had got into, drag his sorry drunken behind home and put him to bed. He sighed and rubbed his temples again, the slight headache suddenly seeming much worse. It really was no use worrying he supposed but it was in his basic nature to worry about his friends.

He rubbed his forehead one more time. Some fresh air would definitely do him some good he decided, and it certainly wouldn't hurt to try to distract himself from worrying about Hercules' whereabouts. Placing the cup back on the table he made his way down the stairs and along the gloomy corridor that led outside. At the door he paused to allow his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight after the dim light of the passage, squinting slightly. As his vision cleared he saw that Jason had lain down on the paving stones near the sunken pool and was gazing up at the sky, one hand curled comfortably behind his head and the other lazily stroking the purring Isosceles who was basking in the autumn sunshine. Pythagoras smiled and made his way over to his friend.

"What are you looking at?" he asked gently.

Jason jumped slightly before squinting back over his head at his friend.

"Clouds," he answered.

Pythagoras frowned.

"Why?"

Jason smiled softly.

"When you were a child did you never imagine you could see pictures in the clouds?" he asked.

"No," Pythagoras admitted, his frown deepening. "I looked at the clouds to see if it would rain."

Jason grinned openly.

"You always were overly practical then?" he teased quietly.

Pythagoras couldn't help but smile at the attempted banter – one more sign in his eyes that Jason was recovering. He sat down on the ground next to Jason, flopped back onto his back and nudged his friend with his elbow.

"So what can you see right now?" he asked.

Jason took a deep, relaxed breath.

"Well if you look at that one over there it looks a bit like a winged horse," he said.

Pythagoras squinted at the cloud Jason was pointing at and frowned deeply.

"Jason it looks like a cloud," he responded logically.

Jason laughed quietly.

"You have to use your imagination," he murmured. "Look there's its head, there's its back and those are its wings."

Pythagoras stared at the cloud doubtfully struggling to see what his friend was seeing.

"I can't really see it," he admitted. "If anything it looks more like a distorted harpy."

Jason's smile grew wider.

"Different people see different things," he said. "It all depends on our imagination."

Pythagoras looked up at the sky again, determined to see something for himself. All of a sudden he squeaked loudly and grabbed Jason's arm, his eyes wide.

"Look," he said urgently, "it's a triangle!"

Jason laughed; a sudden deep and loud chuckle. Trust Pythagoras to see triangles in the sky. He sat up, still giggling and looked at his friend affectionately. Pythagoras peered up at him, unsure what was so amusing in what he said. Still, after the last couple of weeks if Jason was happy then so was he.

Still smiling and shaking his head, Jason flopped back to lie next to Pythagoras once again. They lay there for a while peacefully, looking at the clouds and daydreaming, occasionally pointing shapes out to one another while Isosceles trotted happily between the two of them like a furry, purring pendulum.

If Pythagoras noticed that Jason's voice was still a lot quieter than usual and his speech a bit more hesitant – as though he had to think about forming the words – he chose not to mention it, reasoning that his friend still needed time to get back to normal. For now it seemed enough that Jason's confidence was obviously growing once again. In an attempt to draw his friend into further conversation the young mathematician decided to broach a subject that had been intriguing him since breakfast.

"Jason?" he said hesitantly.

"Yeah?" his friend answered still looking at the clouds.

"Do you have nothing like Apatouria where you come from?"

"Not really," Jason responded, sitting up. Normally he would try to avoid talking about his past and the world he had grown up in as much as possible – partly because of the warning the Oracle had given him when he first arrived in the city and partly, it had to be said, because there were things in his past that he didn't want to talk about; couldn't explain; things he wasn't willing to remember. Right now though he found that he didn't mind. Pythagoras' question was innocent enough and didn't seem to encroach on any painful memories.

"The closest we have is Father's Day," he added, "but I don't think it's really the same. We don't really have any sort of ceremony to become a citizen of the place where we were born. I mean, you become an adult on your eighteenth birthday but that's about it really."

Pythagoras was more curious than ever.

"What do you do on this 'Father's Day'?" he asked.

"It's a day to honour your father," Jason replied. "People give presents to their fathers and do whatever he wants for the day. Sometimes they go out for a meal or have a special meal at home. Like I said, it all really depends on what the father wants to do."

Pythagoras smiled.

"That sounds nice," he said. "What else do people do?"

Jason grimaced.

"I don't really know," he admitted. "I don't really remember celebrating it myself."

"I'm sorry," Pythagoras said awkwardly, his blue eyes sympathetic. "I forgot that you were very young when you lost your father."

"Don't be," Jason muttered. "It isn't your fault." He wrapped his arms around his knees and gazed into the still pool, retreating back behind a wall of silence.

Pythagoras' eyes clouded over unhappily. He hadn't meant to upset his friend; hadn't meant to risk Jason withdrawing again and destroying all the progress they had made. Mentally he started to berate himself as he also sat up and crossed his legs looking at the water.

"Stop it." Pythagoras was startled by his friend's suddenly firm and serious voice.

"Stop what?" he asked with a little confusion.

"Stop beating yourself up," Jason retorted, his hazel eyes serious as he turned towards his friend.

"I did not mean to upset you," Pythagoras apologised.

"You didn't," Jason answered. "I'm just not used to talking about my Dad much anymore. I used to talk about him all the time, but other people didn't like hearing it. They thought I was obsessed with how he vanished and that it wasn't healthy. They thought I should just learn to move on."

Pythagoras frowned. Perhaps he was wrong but he couldn't help thinking that it would be far less healthy for Jason to keep things bottled up; to not talk about how he felt and what he cared about. He hesitated for a moment before asking a question that had interested him for months.

"Jason, what happened to your father? I know you said he disappeared, but how?"

Jason sighed. He wanted to tell Pythagoras the truth but it would be better if some of the details were edited; were changed into something that the mathematician would find believable.

"He went away to work and never came home," he said. "The boat he was in vanished. Everyone told me he was dead but no-one could say where or how."

"So you came looking for answers," Pythagoras said softly.

"Yeah," Jason agreed. "I never really knew why he'd gone away. I mean there was plenty of the type of work he did pretty close to where we lived and most of the time he worked there. But once in a while he'd go away – sometimes just for a few days and other times for weeks. His friend Mac used to tell me that Dad had wanderlust – was always looking for something more. Mac thought that wherever Dad had come from he was used to being the boss and he couldn't always get used to the fact that he wasn't in charge anymore."

Pythagoras nodded. If what he suspected about Jason's father's identity was true then it was no surprise that he was used to being in charge and missed the fact that he no longer wielded the same sort of power that he was accustomed to. From what he was saying though it was clear that Jason had little knowledge of his own background.

"Your father never told anyone where you both came from then?" he asked.

"No," said Jason. "He just turned up in town one day with me in his arms. Mac said I must have been about a year and a half old. He never spoke about the past. Never said anything about where we came from or who my mother was – just that she had died not long after I was born. I don't even know what her name was." He paused. "Sometimes I wish I knew a bit more about her," he admitted, "but Mac always said if wishes were horses then beggars would ride."

Pythagoras tried to work his way through that particular sentence with a small frown. He was fairly sure that he would never understand everything Jason said.

"So your father disappeared while he was away working then?" he asked, inching closer to his friend.

"Yeah," Jason answered. "He'd been away to work before but this time was different."

"How so?"

"Before he'd always told me when he'd be coming back – how long he'd be away. But that last time he didn't. It was like he knew he wouldn't be coming home again." Jason reached up and slipped his necklace off, running the trinket between his hands and feeling the smooth metal up against his fingers. He looked down at it and then up at his blonde friend. "My Dad gave it to me before he left," he said softly, sadly. "He told me that he loved me and that one day I'd understand... but I never really did. I still don't understand. I don't understand why he had to leave, or what happened to him."

Without even thinking about it Pythagoras slipped one thin arm around his companion's shoulders, needing very much to let Jason know that he was here for him; that he was not alone.

Jason patted his hand in response and slipped the necklace back on.

"What was he like?" Pythagoras asked quietly.

"Who? My Dad?"

"Yes."

Jason sighed.

"I don't really remember him all that well," he admitted. "It's been so long since he left. I can remember what he smelt like, and the way his favourite shirt felt and how his hand felt when he brushed my hair back out of my eyes. But when I try to picture his face it's just a blur. I'm told I look a little bit like him but I don't really know. I don't remember what he looked like or the sound of his voice. Everything's vague and hazy. Sometimes I think I can almost remember but he's always just out of my reach – even in my dreams. All I really have left are feelings and impressions," he trailed off for a moment, eyes distant. "Sometimes one of Dad's friends would come and visit me while I was growing up and they'd tell me all these stories about him – about what he was like and the things he did – and they'd tell me how much he loved me." He sighed again.

"I'm sure that is true," Pythagoras said.

"Maybe," Jason responded. "I just wish I could remember for myself. When I was a child I had people tell me how sorry they were for me, and how hard it must be that I never even knew my mother, and that they couldn't even imagine how difficult it was, but that I was lucky that at least I had had the chance to get to know my father… but they were wrong. Not knowing my mother was the easiest bit. It's much harder to know someone and to know that you're gradually forgetting them as the years go by. That you're losing them piece by piece," he paused and shook his head ruefully. "I'm sorry," he apologised. "I'm being pathetic. You probably don't want to hear all this."

Pythagoras squeezed his friend's shoulders a bit more tightly. He had never known Jason to talk so much about himself and his past. Although he knew that it was probably coming as a result of his friend's current vulnerability he couldn't help but be touched that Jason had finally trusted him enough to open up to him this much.

"I would like to hear your stories," he said softly. "You are one of my best friends – probably the best friend that I have aside from Hercules – and yet I know so very little about your past. I would like to hear more about your father and about where you grew up and who you lived with. I know you have said in the past that you had no family and no real friends but somebody must have brought you up. I just wish that you could trust me enough to tell me."

"I'm sorry," Jason said again. "I don't trust people all that easily… If it means anything I probably trust you and Hercules more than I've ever trusted anyone before. I trust you both with my life. It's just that there are some things that I don't like to talk about – that I find it hard to talk about."

"I do understand," Pythagoras answered. "We all have secrets that we do not want anyone to know. We all have memories that we would rather forget – trust me I know. My own father was hardly someone to be proud of and I carried the guilt of his death for many years – too many years. I do not like to speak of parts of my childhood myself. But it does no good to try to ignore the past completely. There may be memories that I do not talk about but it does not mean that I cannot share the more pleasant aspects of my past with my friends."

Jason smiled a little ruefully. Try though he might he would never understand exactly what he had done to deserve a friend as caring as Pythagoras… or as Hercules when he got right down to it. He wasn't going to argue though. Having someone that actually cared enough to want to listen to him was an incredibly good feeling.

A sudden splash made both boys look up. Isosceles, fed up of being ignored, had gone to investigate the pool. She had seen the small ornamental fish inside with growing excitement and had leant further and further out over the edge to look, her natural instincts to hunt kicking in. Unfortunately for her she had overbalanced and ended up in the water, where she was now desperately trying to swim back to the side while the fish, annoyed at the sudden furry intruder in their midst, bumped her tummy with their blunt noses, knocking her off balance.

Jason laughed at the kitten's predicament, even as he scrambled over to rescue her. Carefully he fished the tiny creature out of the water with one hand and brought her back to where Pythagoras was sitting. The young blonde's own amusement was written clearly on his face. Isosceles struggled to get out of Jason's grasp. Once she was back on the ground she sat down and started to wash herself, obviously trying to pretend that nothing had happened and she had not just received a dunking.

"Silly cat," Pythagoras said softly as he reached out to stroke the kitten gently, using his hand to plane some of the excess water away from her thin body.

Isosceles turned her back on him. The two young men exchanged an amused look.

"I suppose I should get back to my work," Pythagoras murmured reluctantly. While he would never admit it to anyone the day was so pleasant that he really didn't want to go back inside. "At the very least I should check to see whether Hercules and Meriones have come back yet."

Jason gave him a startled look.

"Have they not got back from the agora?" he asked with some surprise. "They've been gone hours."

"They had not when I came out here," Pythagoras responded. "I am beginning to suspect that they have been waylaid at the tavern."

"Oh ye of little faith," Hercules' voice boomed from the house doorway. "I'm surprised at you Pythagoras. How could you even think such a thing?"

"The time I sent you out for food for Poseidia, you went to the tavern and got so drunk that I had to fish you out of the fountain before you drowned… and you'd eaten all the food too," Pythagoras responded sharply.

"Poseidia?" Jason murmured.

"The major festival in honour of Poseidon. It will occur in a couple of months' time," Pythagoras muttered in response before turning back to Hercules with his eyebrows raised. As the big man came close the blonde sniffed the air delicately. "Your breath stinks of wine," he accused.

"We may have stopped off at the tavern for a small drink in honour of the day," Hercules answered unabashed. "One of Meriones' associates approached him with some business and we may have lost track of time a little but I promise you all the makings of the feast are up in the kitchen." He turned towards Jason. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yeah," Jason answered with a faint smile.

"Come on then," Hercules said with a jerk of his head. "There's work to be done and a feast to be prepared and we're wasting time standing around out here."

As they made their way back into the house, Jason dropped back slightly and let the other two go on ahead bantering back and forth. An idea he had been thinking about ever since breakfast sprang back into his mind. He wasn't entirely sure he could do what he was thinking but perhaps it was worth a go. He smiled slightly.

"Do you really think you're capable of doing anything that worthwhile?" Hector's voice queried within his mind. "It won't matter in the end anyway. Once they've seen you for what you really are they won't be able to wait to get rid of you."

"Shut up," Jason murmured, trying to rid himself of the darkest and most insecure part of his own subconscious. "I'm not going to listen to you anymore."

He shook himself and trotted to catch up with his friends who had by now entered the house. Hercules was right: there _was_ work to be done.


	27. Chapter 27

A/N Okay I really have to start by saying thank you all _so_ much for the lovely reviews I got for the last chapter. There really isn't all that much more to go on this story now. Only a couple of chapters left after this one, so I hope you'll all stick with me until the end.

I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint!

* * *

For the fourth time in the last half hour Hercules walked purposefully towards Jason's favourite window seat intent on having a serious and long chat with his friend and for the fourth time chickened out at the last minute, turning away and hurrying towards the kitchen. The problem was how to broach the subject, he decided. If what he had been suspecting for a few days was true then he hardly thought that Jason would be particularly happy to talk about it and given that he'd only started talking again that morning, Hercules was seriously worried that the young man might retreat back into silence just to avoid the conversation. He really didn't want to risk Jason becoming withdrawn again, especially now that he was finally getting back to normal, and yet he had the feeling that in order to truly move on his friend needed to have this talk; needed to be able to face the things that were bothering him and consign them to the past. But it was such a private subject – such a horrific thought – that the burly wrestler really wasn't sure how to broach it. Jason had a tendency towards reticence and secrecy when it came to talking about himself at the best of times. Hercules sighed and turned back to make his approach once again.

As Hercules hurried back over towards Jason, the young man spotted him coming out of the corner of his eye and hurriedly shoved something out of sight under the cushions of the seat. Hercules caught a quick glimpse of shining metal – probably the blade of a small knife he thought – and a small cloth wrapped bundle before the whole lot disappeared from view. He thought that perhaps he should be concerned that his young friend was hiding some sort of blade and yet he simply could not believe that Jason would ever do anything to deliberately harm himself. On the plus side it was good to see that the lad was taking far more notice of his surroundings now. Jason's senses were usually very acute – far more than was normal – and it was extremely difficult to sneak up on him. If he ever appeared oblivious to what was going on around him it was normally because a lack of understanding of Atlantian society made him blind to certain dangers. Added to which he was naïve enough that it was all too easy for an attacker to trick him. Hercules shuddered as he remembered how easily Jason had been tricked into trying to help the Scythian leader, believing him to be a hurt woman – the man had a full beard for goodness sake! Still, creeping up on Jason and catching him unawares was hard, and yet it was something that they had all done several times over the last week. The fact that he had noticed Hercules' approach this time and had reacted accordingly – even if it _was_ to hide whatever he was doing from sight – was another good sign. Hercules smiled.

"Dare I ask what you're up to?" he said.

Jason smiled and shrugged.

"Just watching the world go by," he answered a little evasively, moving his legs over so that Hercules could join him on the seat.

Hercules plonked himself down on the seat and looked out of the window before turning casually back towards his companion.

"You know Pythagoras is bursting to ask why you like this window so much," he remarked, trying and failing to hide his own curiosity in the matter.

Jason glanced at the window himself.

"You can see the whole of Atlantis from here," he answered softly.

Hercules frowned.

"No," he said. "You can see a street. You could see most of Atlantis if you went to the Temple steps."

"That's not what I meant," Jason responded. He closed his eyes and frowned deeply, struggling to put his thoughts into words. Opening his eyes once more he saw Hercules watching him patiently. He sighed. "Sorry," he apologised quietly. "Words still aren't coming all that easily. It's like my brain and my mouth don't always want to work together. It's hard to… it's hard to explain what I mean."

Hercules nodded and smiled softly, silently allowing his young companion the time he needed to put his thoughts into speech.

Jason sighed again.

"What I mean is that you can see all the life in Atlantis from here," he said. "Rich and poor, young and old, masters, slaves, the beautiful and the wretched – they all go by. Life carries on no matter what."

"It's reassuring to know that whatever happens in the world, the tide still goes out and the tide still comes back in," Hercules said a little sadly, thinking about the conversation he had once had with Medusa sitting on the Temple steps.

"Yeah," Jason breathed, looking out of the window once more.

"Sooner or later you have to re-join it though," Hercules pressed. "Life I mean… not the tide. That comes and goes as it wants."

"I know," Jason answered. "I can't stay here forever can I?"

"No," Hercules answered, "and I don't think you'd be very happy if you did."

"It's been… peaceful though," Jason said looking around the room, "and I needed that so much." He paused. "Before – when I was working at the docks – there were people everywhere; barging into me, brushing against me, shouting at one another. There were times when I felt like I couldn't breathe. And everything got so mixed up in my head – so confused – and I couldn't think straight any more. I couldn't tell what was real and what wasn't." He shuddered. "Most of the time it was like there were voices in my head, screaming at me. And I knew they weren't real – that it was just my mind conjuring up demons – but they _felt_ real… and it was hard not to believe what they were saying… and it still is," he confessed. "There's this one voice that just won't seem to go away. And I know it's just part of my mind but it's kind of hard to ignore."

Hercules slipped an arm around his friend without even thinking about it, wordlessly offering his support and encouragement for Jason to continue. He couldn't imagine how lonely the young man must have felt locked in his own head – his thoughts so confused that he had been unable to tell illusion from reality.

"I wasn't sure where I was at first," Jason went on quietly, "or how I'd got here. I'm guessing that Meriones found me…" he trailed off.

"Yes," Hercules confirmed. "It was after you ran off. After I…" he paused and swallowed, still feeling the residual guilt from that night. "After I hit you. Meriones ran into you in an alleyway off Limáni Street. He said that you were upset," Hercules laughed bitterly – the word 'upset' hardly seemed to cover his young friend's recent state of mind. "He said that you were overwrought, exhausted and deeply withdrawn, so he brought you here to get you off the street and help you to recover."

"I'm glad he did," Jason said simply. "I'm not sure I was in any fit state to look after myself."

"No," Hercules agreed. "You weren't… although I'm ashamed to say it took me some time to see it. I thought you were sulking."

Jason blinked in surprise.

"Sorry," he murmured.

Hercules frowned.

"What are you sorry for? You weren't sulking at all. It was just me being foolish. I was cross and guilty and worried… and it brought out the worst in me." He nudged his young companion. "Still what's done is done… and we were talking about the fact that you seem to be turning into a night owl and not leaving the house in the daytime."

Jason laughed a little wryly.

"Like I said I've been a bit confused," he said, ignoring Hercules' eye roll at his statement of the obvious. "I couldn't really hear myself think. The thought of going out there," he nodded towards the street, "and everyone talking and making noise… I just couldn't cope with it." He sighed. "I'm still trying to get my head together. Still trying to sort myself out. I really do want to go out – I've never been very good at being cooped up indoors – but every time I think about it… it's almost like I'm too scared," he finished quietly.

Hercules nodded seriously and squeezed the lad's shoulders affectionately.

"Then we take it one step at a time," he said. "Whatever happens we'll face it together – all of us. Like we keep telling you we're a family now and a family looks after each other – stands by one another. The sooner you get used to that the better."

Jason smiled.

"I _would_ like to go to the agora," he admitted, "but I'm sort of worried that I'll chicken out at the last minute or have a meltdown in the street. That'd be even more embarrassing than waking up naked in an animal pen."

Hercules laughed lightly remembering the expression on Jason's face the first morning he had arrived home in that condition to find both his friend's waiting for him.

"Baby steps, Jason," he said. "If you feel like going out at any time then let one of us know and we will. No-one's expecting you to jump back into everything straight away. I _do_ think that there's something we need to talk about though."

Jason frowned.

"What?" he asked.

Hercules paused for a moment to gather his own thoughts. How best to broach this subject? Perhaps he should start with trying to find out what had happened the night Alektryon had attacked Jason. That might somehow give a natural lead into the discussion he knew they needed to have – even if he still didn't really want to be having it.

"What _really_ happened with Alektryon?" he asked.

Jason tensed.

"Nothing," he answered abruptly.

Hercules raised an eyebrow and levelled a long hard look at his younger companion, causing Jason to squirm slightly. He nearly smiled. By the gods the boy was a truly dreadful liar.

"I already told Pythagoras," Jason mumbled unhappily.

"And now I'd like you to tell me," Hercules rumbled.

The young man sighed, running a hand through his dark curls.

"I went for a walk to get away from everything," he said numbly. "I wasn't really looking where I was going and wandered into a part of the city that I didn't know. I'd just turned for home when I felt like I was being followed. I ended up in an alleyway that was a dead end. Two men jumped me and pinned my arms behind my back. They worked for Alektryon. Then _he_ came forwards and told me what he wanted to do to me. He wasn't very happy because I didn't fight back – I thought I should probably save my strength until I had a chance to get away – so he backhanded me across the mouth and split my lip. I bit him, head butted the guy behind me and kicked the other one in the face. Once they'd let go of me I grabbed a line prop and swept the legs out from under all three of them. As soon as they were down I ran."

Hercules frowned deeply. There was something not quite right about Jason's story – something missing.

"What happened when Alektryon hit you?" he asked. "How did you get from there to biting his hand? It was his hand wasn't it – I saw the bandage at his trial."

Jason stiffened even further.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

"Probably not," Hercules lied, "but I still want to know." He levelled another serious look at Jason, noting that the lad shuffled awkwardly.

"He ran his hand across my mouth and then licked his fingers to taste the blood," Jason answered shortly. "Then he mashed his mouth against mine to get a better taste. When he drew back and brought his hand up to hold my face again I bit his hand. Ripped a fair chunk of flesh out too."

Hercules sucked in a deep breath.

"And was it the first time anything like this had happened?" he asked gently.

Jason was on his feet in an instant, his agitation at the turn in the conversation clear. He pulled away from the burly wrestler and started to pace the room like a caged animal.

"Why?" he asked. "Why would you ask that? Why would you even _think_ that? What are you suggesting? Of course it hasn't happened before." His breath was coming in short, panicked spurts.

Hercules closed his eyes briefly, pain flaring in his soul. So he had been right in his suspicions then. Jason's reaction to his question was the only confirmation he really needed. He knew without doubt what had happened to the lad in the past and knew exactly what it was he was now dealing with. Getting Jason to accept it and talk about it might prove more of a challenge though. For a brief moment Hercules considered discussing the matter with Pythagoras and Meriones but dismissed the thought quickly. This was something that was terribly, horrendously private and personal for the young man in front of him and he almost felt he would be breaking Jason's trust to discuss things with anyone else – even if they were all friends.

"There's no need to get upset," he rumbled softly. "It was only a question. I wasn't suggesting anything."

Jason looked at him, his eyes wild. Hercules winced. The last thing he wanted to do was push Jason away again. Before he could say anymore, however, Pythagoras stuck his head into the room, frowning at the strained atmosphere as his friends turned towards him.

"Is everything alright?" he asked.

"Everything's fine," Hercules answered quickly.

Pythagoras' frown deepened at the big man's response, clearly not believing him. He turned to Jason.

"You have a couple of visitors," he said. "Cassie and her father popped over. I do not think they are staying long because it is the first day of Apatouria and they will have their own feast to prepare – and family to visit – but they came to say hello."

Jason visibly forced himself to relax again and to smile at Pythagoras as he made his way towards the kitchen where the visitors were waiting for him.

"Perfect," Hercules grumbled to himself once the two young men had gone. He really did need to talk to Jason sooner rather than later but for now it would have to wait until he could get the lad on his own again and try to draw his secret out of him.

* * *

Cassie bounced on the balls of her feet as she waited for Pythagoras to fetch Jason, while her father watched her with some amusement. They had been coming to Meriones' house every day for the best part of a week and yet the child was still overly excited to be visiting her "friend". Talos sighed, feeling a little guilty. When his wife had died both friends and relatives had advised him to give his daughter to his sister and her husband to raise – or to find a place for her with another family. They had suggested that it would be better for the child to be brought up in a normal home rather than with her widowed young father. He would not find it easy to get a new wife, they had told him, while the baby was living with him and he could always reclaim his daughter once he was safely remarried. But he had not wanted to remarry and could not bear the thought of parting with Cassie. She was his wife's last gift to him; a wonderful living reminder of her beautiful mother; the last thing he had of his wife. So against the advice of everyone around him he had kept Cassie with him.

It had caused something of a rift within the family and most of the time he barely spoke to his relatives these days – only visiting them on special occasions like today. His sister was particularly bitter in her denunciation of what she called his selfishness and always took the time and trouble to point out the deficiencies she perceived in Cassie's behaviour and appearance. The child was running wild, she said. Would be unmarriageable within a few years if her wilful and stubborn nature was not curbed. Would become an embarrassment to her family unless she was taught to be properly submissive and to stay silent unless spoken to. Talos sighed again. The truth was he could see little wrong with his beloved daughter. It was true that she was high-spirited but she was also utterly charming because of it.

No, Cassie's behaviour wasn't really the problem and certainly was not something her father felt guilty about. But it had not been easy over the last few years. He had struggled to keep his business afloat and to look after his daughter. Many of his former friends had fallen by the wayside over the last few years and there had been few people willing to help him and look after the girl while he attended business meetings and tried to earn a living. So he had taken Cassie with him as he went about his work. What this meant, however, was that in some ways his beautiful, lively daughter was a lonely child. She had few friends and no-one other than her doll to play with much of the time. The fact that she had latched so completely onto the young man who had saved her life at the docks was perhaps testament to that.

Talos felt a little spurt of guilt once again. He really ought to start trying to make time for Cassie to meet other children her own age. But right now the business was floundering somewhat and he could not really afford the time. To be honest even visiting Jason for a short time each day was something he could do without but he had reasoned that it would not hurt to be in the good books of a man as rich, successful and influential as Meriones within the business community. If nothing else it might persuade some of the better cloth suppliers to do business with him. At the moment the only suppliers whose prices he could afford provided distinctly inferior material. It was hard to build any sort of decent reputation under those circumstances.

Talos half turned as Pythagoras re-entered the room with Jason in tow. The young blonde seemed like a nice enough man, he mused, and was clearly devoted to his friends, although it had to be said that he actually knew little of the mathematician. In fact he had really only met Pythagoras once before – that day in the market place when Meriones had asked him to bring Cassie over to his house each day. Every time they had visited since, Talos had merely caught brief glances of Pythagoras as he and his friend, whose name momentarily escaped the young father, hurried out of the door. He had a sneaking suspicion that they left so as not to overwhelm Jason with too many people. That in itself spoke volumes to Talos and told him exactly how much these two cared for their currently silent friend. Meriones had not gone in to detail when he had told Talos what had happened – simply informing the man that something disturbing and damaging had happened to Jason and as a result the young man had become deeply withdrawn and detached. Having seen Jason respond to Cassie more than he had to anyone in days he had simply requested that the child be brought over to see the lad each day, in the hope that her innocence would help draw Jason back out of himself and help him reconnect with the world around him. Talos had had his doubts but had to admit that the scheme did seem to have had some success.

Now that he thought about it, Talos had to admit that he actually knew very little about Jason either. The young man had saved Cassie's life, had brought her back to life when she had drowned, and Talos would be eternally grateful to him for that – even if he did not know exactly what Jason had done. To make the child breathe again when she had been dead could only be a gift of the gods. However the young man had managed to achieve the impossible, Talos could never thank him enough. If sacrificing some of the time when he should be working went any way towards paying that debt then the young father was more than willing to do it. He smiled softly to himself.

Across the room, Castianiera was regarding Pythagoras with some suspicion. The young blonde shuffled awkwardly under her scrutiny and blushed a little. The little girl had seen him before of course, both at the agora nearly a week ago and in passing almost every day since. This was the first time, however, that he had stayed in the house after she had arrived. She stared at him jealously, clearly worried that his presence would draw her new friend's attention away.

"Who are you?" she asked directly.

"He's my friend," Jason answered quietly, crouching down to the child's level. "His name is Pythagoras."

Cassie squealed and threw herself at the dark haired young man, wrapping her arms around his neck happily.

"You got your voice back," she crowed.

"Yes," Jason agreed.

As Hercules entered the room he tensed, although outwardly he tried to appear calm and happy for the sake of the smiling child in his arms.

"Did your friends help you to find it again?" Cassie asked innocently.

Jason smiled more genuinely.

"Yes they did," he confirmed. "I was mixed up and lonely and sad for a while. My friends weren't very happy with that so they looked after me and tried to stop me being so sad."

Cassie frowned and hugged Jason a little tighter.

"Did your Daddy hug you? 'Cause whenever I'm sad my Daddy hugs me."

Jason sighed.

"It's not quite that simple," he said. "Besides I don't have a Dad any more. I don't actually have any family."

Cassie's frown deepened.

"Of course you do silly!" she said. "They're your family aren't they?" she pointed at Pythagoras and Hercules and then over to where Meriones was standing near her father watching the proceedings with interest.

Jason stared at the girl in surprise. She had stated as a matter of fact something that had completely eluded him for months and had had to be pointed out to him by his friends several times over the last week. A child had seen the one thing that he had failed to understand: that he finally had the family he had spent most of his life longing for. He blinked. Then a slow almost shy smile spread across his face and he glanced back over his shoulder at his friends, his eyes warm.

"Yes they are," he murmured. "We are a family. I'm pretty lucky. Some people have really bad families. Relatives that hurt them. I may not have the family I was born into but I got to be part of a new family – one that chose me."

"It's about time you finally worked that one out," a gruff voice said as a heavy meaty hand descended on Jason's shoulder and squeezed lightly.

Jason looked up at Hercules and smiled. His eyes, however, told a different story with fear, anger and uncertainty warring with happiness and affection, and his shoulders radiated tension. Hercules sighed mentally. He knew he needed to have a long and painful chat with the young man but it was clear that Jason was far from ready for it yet. Perhaps it would be a better idea to wait for a couple of days and allow Jason to settle down more – to let him heal a little more and get those wildly swinging emotions more under control. The young man was still far more vulnerable than Hercules wanted to see and the big man was almost longing to see his friend get back to normal. A little patience now might pay dividends in the long run. Much as he truly believed that Jason needed to face his own past if he was ever fully going to get past this, he was not willing to damage the young man any further. Jason was still a bit too close to the edge for his liking. He gave the lad's shoulder another affectionate squeeze and backed away, smiling.

Jason relaxed. Clearly Hercules was not going to carry on with the conversation that they had been having earlier and he was extremely grateful for that. The burly wrestler had come frighteningly close to the truth and it was a conversation that Jason simply could not bring himself to have. No, this was one secret that needed to stay locked away forever; could never be brought out into the light of day. He had kept it hidden for so many years; surely it couldn't be that hard to lock it back inside himself once again. And yet a little voice deep in the back of his mind kept telling him that it might be a relief to finally let this particular secret go and tell someone about it; that it might be nice to finally be believed by someone – and his friends had always shown such faith in him; such belief. The voice said that they would still care no matter what he told them – but then he imagined the worst that might happen. The looks of disgust on their faces. And what if they didn't believe him? What if they thought he was lying? Jason silently sighed. Although he now knew just how much his friends cared for him and how far they were willing to go for him this was one risk he still felt he couldn't take.

As Jason struggled with his thoughts, Cassie wriggled out of his arms having spotted the washing Isosceles on the table. The little girl's reaction upon seeing the kitten for the first time had been predictably loud and affectionate. Like most little girls Cassie had a distinct preference for any creature that could be deemed 'cute' and Isosceles definitely fell into that category. Ever since that first meeting the little girl had been gripped by a burning desire – to play with the kitten. And in Cassie's mind that meant dressing her up in the clothes from her doll, Arisbe, and playing house. Understandably Isosceles was less than keen to comply and usually retreated to Jason's bedroom as fast as her little legs could carry her. Unfortunately for her, on this occasion she had failed to see just how close the child was getting until a pair of small hands wrapped themselves around her body and jerked her off the table top. The kitten gave a startled squeak and started to struggle slightly.

"I don't think she likes that very much," a soft and gentle voice informed Cassie.

The little girl turned and looked up into the face of Jason's blonde friend.

"I just want to play with her," she pouted.

Isosceles took advantage of the little girl's momentary distraction to escape and make a break for the bedrooms.

Cassie looked downcast for a moment before returning her attention to the young man in front of her.

"You're Jason's friend," she said.

Pythagoras smiled.

"That's right," he said. "My name is Pythagoras."

"Will you be my friend too?" Cassie asked quietly, her eyes beseeching.

"Of course. If you really want me to be," Pythagoras answered kindly but uncertainly.

Cassie beamed.

"Good," she answered brightly and slipped her hand into the young mathematician's. "You can play house with me then," she added firmly as she started to drag Pythagoras off towards the living room.

Jason fought the urge to laugh as Pythagoras mouthed a silent appeal for help over his shoulder as he was pulled away by the insistent little girl. He stood up and half turned as he felt someone come up to his shoulder. Hercules was grinning openly and the two of them exchanged an amused look at their other friend's discomfort.

"You know in all the time I've known him I think that's the first time I've seen Pythagoras go off with a woman," Hercules chuckled.

"She's only a little girl," Jason responded trying hard to stifle his own laughter.

"The principle's the same," Hercules retorted, "just on a smaller scale." He sobered slightly and gave Jason a friendly but semi-serious look. "I meant what I said before."

"What?" Jason was immediately on the defensive, more than half afraid that Hercules would want to talk about Alektryon again.

"When I said that whenever you decide you want to go out you just let us know," Hercules responded. "Whenever you're ready to take that step I'll be right there with you… and I know that goes for him in there too," he nodded towards the room that Pythagoras had disappeared into.

Jason smiled again.

"I suppose one of us should go and rescue him," he said softly.

Hercules levelled a long look at him with his eyebrow raised.

"Me?" Jason whined. "Why does it have to be me?"

"Because the little girl is _your_ friend and because it won't be me," Hercules responded.

Jason rolled his eyes and walked off towards the living room in search of their mathematically inclined friend, muttering under his breath and scuffing his feet slightly as he went.

On the other side of the room, Talos was struggling to contain his amusement at the scenes he had just witnessed. It was interesting watching the three men interacting. Their mutual friendship and love for one another shone clear under the thin veneer of light and amusing banter. A large hand on his arm made him turn to face Meriones.

"We cannot stay long," Talos apologised. "I know Cassie and I normally stay for a while but there are things to be done today. We are to share in the feast at me sister's house this evening," he finished unhappily.

"You do not get on with your sister?" Meriones frowned.

"My sister does not approve of me," Talos answered with a sigh. "Our father was an artisan. A potter of some renown within Atlantis. I was supposed to follow in his footsteps but I had neither the inclination nor the artistic ability and so I chose to become a merchant instead. My sister believes that I have shamed our family by going into what she calls 'trade'. It does not help I suppose that her husband is a skilled and successful artisan and that I have not achieved any great success in business." He sighed again. "She also disapproves of my decision to raise my daughter myself. Agapia believes that it would have been better for everyone if Castianiera had been given to her to raise and I had found a new wife for myself. She never fails to point out the deficiencies she perceives in Cassie's behaviour or to tell me that my daughter is a 'little hoyden'. But you do not want to hear about my problems with my family or my business."

Meriones smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling in a friendly manner.

"Actually I _do_ have some business that I desire to talk to you about."

Talos worried at his lip. What on earth could a successful merchant like Meriones wish to discuss with him?

"I am sure you have heard of my reputation," Meriones continued. "I am a cheat, a thief, a gambler, a drunk and a very successful and legitimate businessman. I am also honest with the people who I like and believe I have reason to be grateful to… and I have reason to be grateful to both you and your daughter, my friend." He levelled a long look at Talos which had the younger man squirming with embarrassment.

The giant laughed, his great black beard wagging in amusement.

"I have recently acquired some high quality woollen cloth," he went on. "I wish to have it made up into garments for sale this winter. I believe that there will be a more than reasonable profit in the venture. I have dealt in fine silks and the best quality linens and wools for many years now but have never before explored the possibility of having the fabrics I import made up into garments for sale. I have made enquiries. Your business is small and struggling and is hampered by the inferior quality fabric that your suppliers foist off on you but the garments that your workforce make are top notch. I believe that with the right raw material you would be able to turn your business into a thriving enterprise. I am willing to sell you the wool in my warehouse at a significant discount in return for a small cut of the profits from the sale of the finished clothes. I can even provide help with the sale of the finished items. My contacts are extensive."

Talos found that he had almost stopped breathing. Of all the things he had ever hoped for this offer went above and beyond anything he could have imagined.

"How big a cut of the profits would you want?" he asked softly.

"Oh not too much," Meriones said, his eyes probing. "No more than twenty-five percent."

"Five," Talos countered instantly.

"Twenty," Meriones responded.

"Ten," Talos answered. He was shocked by his own audacity and held his breath, hoping that Meriones would not take offence and he had not just lost the deal of his lifetime.

The giant merchant laughed.

"Come," he said, "let us agree on fifteen percent." He paused. "You haggle well," he complimented his younger companion.

Talos blushed.

"Why are you doing this?" he asked.

"I owe you a debt," Meriones said simply.

Talos sighed.

"I haven't been bringing Cassie here for completely innocent and altruistic reasons," he admitted. "My business has been struggling for some time and I had hoped that if I was seen in the company of such a well-known businessman as you more opportunities would open up."

"And they have, my friend," Meriones answered. "I will of course require a sample of your work."

"Of course," Talos responded.

"Good. I will arrange to have some cloth delivered to your home," Meriones said. "As a sample I will require you to produce two winter tunics – the colours do not matter – of a size say, for example, to fit one of those two young men in there," he nodded towards the living area. "I will also require one cloak. I believe these should be sufficient for me to judge the quality of your work."

Talos smiled.

"It will be done," he promised.

"Good," Meriones answered. "The quicker the samples are delivered to me the quicker we can confirm our arrangement and the quicker we can both start making a profit." He looked at Talos shrewdly. "Welcome to the world of business," he said.

* * *

It was nearly evening and the sun was beginning to dip below the roofs of the tallest buildings, casting long shadows across the dusty streets. Jason looked out of the window and bit his lip. Soon the stallholders in the agora would be packing up for the night – especially as this was a feast day and they would want to return to their own families. There were less people on the street now than there had been earlier in the day. Perhaps now would be a good time to venture out. Jason worried at his lip a little more. The idea of being around too many people at once still set his nerves on edge but it would have to be done sooner or later, and there really were a couple of things he wanted to get from the market.

Of course he knew full well that he could ask Pythagoras to go for him and knew that the young genius would do it without a murmur, but he couldn't hide behind his friends forever. Asking Pythagoras to do his shopping for him might be alright in the short term but in the long term it was only putting off the inevitable. Sooner or later he would have to go outside in the daytime. Unless he was planning on staying indoors forever that was. Jason frowned. He would not – could not – bring himself to become that much of a burden on his friends; would not live on their good graces without being able to contribute something to the household himself. It simply was not in his nature to sit back and let others do the work for him. Staying indoors forever was not an option he was willing to consider – it would be taking the coward's way – and it would be better for everyone if he took the plunge soon.

That didn't mean he wasn't worried though; wasn't afraid that, as he had said to Hercules, he wouldn't be able to go through with it – would chicken out or have a horribly public meltdown. So he had spent most of the afternoon, once Talos and Cassie had gone to prepare for their family visit, sitting in the window and trying to convince himself that leaving the house and visiting the agora was a good idea. If it was to be done today (and he really _did_ need to visit the market today) it would have to be soon though, otherwise he would be too late and all the stalls would be packed up for the night. Steeling himself, he stood up and walked purposefully into the kitchen.

Hercules was lounging at the table, a cup of wine already in his hand, while Pythagoras puttered around stirring various pots on the fire and laying out cold selections in a variety of dishes and Meriones went and opened another flagon, bantering back and forth with his old friend. As Jason walked in the burly wrestler looked up.

"I…" Jason paused and swallowed hard. "I… need… I need to go to the agora." His voice was quiet and sounded horribly uncertain.

Hercules smiled reassuringly and nodded.

"Fair enough," he said putting his cup down. "Let me get my sandals on and I'm with you." He turned to the startled Pythagoras. "And you needn't think you're going to sit this one out either."

"I would not dream of it," Pythagoras answered sharply. He turned towards Meriones. "I do not think that any of the food that is cooking should need too much attention before I return. You may need to stir things occasionally, that is all."

Meriones waved him off with a negligent hand gesture.

"I am sure I can cope with the preparations," he smiled. "Just go and have fun."

At the bottom of the stairs that led to the street, Jason paused and closed his eyes with his hand on the latch, and took a deep, steadying breath. Opening them again he found his friends watching him; Pythagoras with concern and Hercules with a slightly sad, knowing smile.

"Baby steps, Jason," he said.

"Yes," Jason responded. He paused for a moment longer to centre himself – to ground himself in the here and now – and then pulled the door open with a sudden jerk and thrust himself through it before he could change his mind.

The street outside was not particularly busy – something which Jason was incredibly grateful for. As they moved towards the agora the number of people around them increased and by the time they reached the market square itself it was clear to Jason's two companions that the young man was distinctly uncomfortable and radiating tension. Without even thinking about it Pythagoras reached up and started to gently massage the back of his younger friend's neck, trying to release some of that tension. Jason turned towards him with a weak smile.

"Sorry," he murmured. "Just not comfortable with this many people at the moment."

"Say the word and we'll go back," Pythagoras answered softly.

Jason shook his head.

"No," he answered slowly. "I need to do this… I need to be able to get through this… I'm just being stupid."

"No," Hercules disagreed. "You're not being stupid. I think you've been ill and you just need to take it one step at a time to get back to normal."

Jason looked slightly startled at the big man's insight. It was easy to dismiss Hercules as a buffoon given his usual drunken or lascivious antics.

"Yeah," he said softly. He turned back to Pythagoras. "I'll be fine. Come on, everything will be shut up if we don't stop dawdling."

As they entered the square Jason's eyes darted around nervously, his breathing quickening as he saw just how crowded the agora was even at this time on a day when the whole of Atlantis was buying special food for their festival feasts. Fortunately it seemed that the stalls he was looking for were less busy. He relaxed slightly and moved forwards with a confidence he didn't really feel. Suddenly he stopped and turned towards the other two.

"Would it be nice if we took some wine or something back with us?" he asked anxiously. "I mean, I don't know much about this festival and I don't know if it's alright or anything, but where I come from when you go for a nice meal at someone's house you take a bottle of wine or something as a present. And we've been staying in Meriones' house and we haven't really contributed anything…"

"I am sure Meriones does not mind," Pythagoras hurried to reassure his friend. "After all he invited us all to stay."

Jason grimaced.

"I'm not sure he actually invited _me_ did he?" he argued softly. "I sort of landed on his doorstep."

"Well at least it was not the balcony this time," Pythagoras answered brightly.

Jason worried at his lip.

"I'm sure Meriones will have plenty of wine," Hercules rumbled, "but we could take some more back with us if it means so much to you."

The young brunette smiled gratefully.

"I happen to know an excellent wine merchant over there," Hercules went on gesturing to the busiest part of the square, "who should have just what we need." He looked appraisingly at Jason, who was staring at the crowd with wide eyes, his face pale. "Why don't you stay here and I'll see what I can get?"

Jason nodded in relief.

"Alright," he answered. "I might have a look at some of the stalls over here," he pointed at the much quieter part of the agora where the merchants were already preparing to close down for the night. "Why don't you take Pythagoras with you?"

"Why?" Hercules frowned.

"Because we've got a better chance of getting the wine home without any of it being drunk if Pythagoras carries it," Jason answered logically.

Hercules drew in a breath to make a retort then seemed to think about it.

"Fair point," he admitted. He looked at the blonde mathematician. "Come on."

Once they had gone over towards the wine merchant that Hercules had pointed out, Jason slowly made his way towards the stalls selling the things he was interested in, flinching unconsciously when anyone brushed against him, senses on high alert.

In some ways it felt like it took forever for his friends to re-join him, although in reality they were gone no more than a few minutes and returned with Pythagoras carrying a medium sized amphora of wine while Hercules munched on a small pie that he'd picked up from somewhere.

"Just a little snack," he said in answer to Jason's curious look.

Jason smiled and shoved his own small package into his belt.

"What's that?" Pythagoras asked.

"Just some things I needed," Jason answered nonchalantly.

Pythagoras was more intrigued than ever. He opened his mouth to enquire further when a noise from an adjoining alleyway made them all turn and look.

"Psst," a voice said.

Melas stepped out of the shadows and beckoned to them.

"You must come with me," he addressed Jason. "The Oracle requires it."


	28. Chapter 28

A/N Thank you once again for the lovely reviews.

Once again I have to apologise for taking liberties with the festival of Apatouria - any rituals and observances I have mentioned have been completely made up by me!

I hope this chapter doesn't disappoint too much. Please let me know if you liked it...

* * *

Hercules growled as he stared long and hard at the chief priest. It was a quiet, guttural sound that started in the back of his throat, building in volume as his anger grew. He was acutely aware of the surprised looks he was getting from his friends and of the way that Melas almost unconsciously took a step back from him but right now he was too cross to care. It was only when Jason took a half-step away from him, the tension clearly building in the young man again, that Hercules realised what he was doing and began to tone down his anger, remembering what had happened the last time he had lost control of his temper. Without looking he reached out and placed a reassuring hand on the back of Jason's neck, wordlessly letting the young man know that everything was still alright and that he was not angry in any way with _him_.

"No," he said, never taking his eyes off the priest. "He's not going anywhere with you. We are going back to our friend's house now and you can tell your 'mistress' that Jason is not available to go off on whatever cockamamie mission she wants him for."

Melas bristled.

"The Oracle will not be denied," he said firmly. "She is the representative of the gods. Poseidon's most faithful servant. She speaks with his voice. Would you defy the gods?"

"I honour the gods as much as the next man," Hercules declared, "but there are times when there are things that are more important. You can tell Her Vagueness that it's the first day of Apatouria – a day for family – and we have a family feast to be getting back to. Now if she's as all seeing as everyone says she'll know that _he_ hasn't been all that well," he nodded towards Jason, "and he needs just a bit more time to get back to normal."

Melas half smiled, his eyes flicking towards Jason with a sympathetic and questioning look. Jason shifted awkwardly. He really wasn't all that comfortable with being spoken about like he wasn't here. More than that though he was growing increasingly uncomfortable and anxious with the number of people still on the streets and the sheer noise they were making. His heart was beginning to thud uncomfortably in his chest and his head was beginning to ache – a dull throb behind his temples that he knew from past experience would soon multiply until his entire head was pounding. At least it was just a headache and not migraine, he hoped. He'd suffered from occasional migraines for years now but he'd been lucky so far since he came to Atlantis and managed to avoid them altogether.

Right now though all he really wanted to do was to get back off the street; to return to Meriones' house and relax. Pythagoras would undoubtedly know of something that would ease his headache and perhaps no-one would mind too much if he went and laid down for a little while before they ate. And yet his own sense of duty would not let him refuse Melas' urgings. The Oracle had always been kind to him in her own way – even if he rarely understood more than half of what she was saying given the vagueness of her pronouncements – and he did not like to think he might be letting her down. Jason grimaced. He really didn't like the thought of letting anyone down, if the truth be told. Perhaps if it were just a quick visit it would not be so bad.

"Hercules it's alright," he said softly. "What does the Oracle want me for?" he asked turning towards Melas.

"I do not know," the priest responded, his deep voice kind. "She did not confide in me. I do not believe she would have requested your presence lightly however. She has been concerned for you… we both have."

"I'm alright," Jason answered, looking a little awkward.

"But you were not at our last meeting," Melas countered.

Jason sighed softly.

"No," he agreed. "I probably wasn't."

"Will you come with me?" Melas asked.

"Yes," Jason nodded.

"Jason," Hercules growled.

The young man turned towards his older companion.

"It'll be fine Hercules," he said quietly. "I'm just going to go and listen to what she has to say. I'm not planning on going off anywhere… I promise."

Hercules glowered at him.

"Fine," he said shortly, "but we're coming with you."

If Melas was in any way surprised or disapproving of the fact that Jason's two friends were choosing to come with him he wisely decided not to show it.

The journey from the agora to the Temple was not a long one but for Jason it was a distinct relief to step away from the overcrowded streets into the cool darkness of the Temple. For a moment he paused inside the doors and allowed the cool air to wash over him, closing his eyes briefly and rubbing at his temple with one hand, trying to ease away the throbbing headache that was still assaulting him. Opening his eyes he saw Pythagoras watching him speculatively.

"Are you alright?" the young blonde asked.

"Yeah," Jason murmured.

"I have a tonic that will help with your headache back at Meriones' house," Pythagoras said firmly.

Jason smiled, not even bothering to attempt to deny the fact that his head was by now pounding – Pythagoras knew him simply too well.

"Thanks," he said.

Melas ushered the three of them onwards towards the steps leading to the chamber where the Oracle delivered her visions to the faithful. As they descended the bunches of herbs and flowers burning in braziers gave off a sweet heady smell that lifted the spirit and cleared the mind. Jason smiled softly to himself. He had trodden the path to visit the Oracle many times now – it had become a familiar part of his everyday life – although it had to be said that he had never visited here in the company of others before. Just how the Oracle would react to the presence of his friends, both hovering protectively behind him, was anyone's guess, but Jason didn't have the heart or the inclination to ask them to leave and let him go on alone.

At the bottom of the stairs the Oracle was standing with her back to them, her hood thrown back over her shoulders, busying herself with cleaning her sacrificial knife. As they reached the bottom step she turned and stepped towards them her hands outstretched and her face lit with a warm smile. For Pythagoras and Hercules this was something of a surprise. They had known, of course, that Jason visited the Oracle – perhaps even more frequently than either of them had realised – but neither of them had even imagined that their housemate had such a clearly close relationship with the seeress. As she reached the trio, the Oracle caught Jason's hands in her own, flicking a brief but not unfriendly glance at his companions she led the young man to the far side of the chamber and sank to the floor with him alongside her. Pausing for a moment her eyes searched Jason's face and perhaps unconsciously she reached out and tucked a stray curl of dark hair back behind his ear. Pythagoras jolted at the gesture. His own solitary encounter with the Oracle had been tense and highly charged with emotion and yet the woman had seemed eternally impassive – untouchable. He had never imagined he would ever see her make such a motherly gesture. Then again Jason did seem to have the knack for drawing out the nurturing instinct in the strangest of people he mused, thinking about both Hercules and Meriones. He supposed it was because his independent, oft-times heroic, strong willed friend displayed at times an unconscious air of vulnerability that he was clearly unaware of.

"I am pleased to see you," the Oracle said gently, never taking her eyes from Jason.

"You sent for me," Jason murmured softly.

"I was unsure you would be able to answer my summons," the Oracle stated. She looked searchingly at Jason. "Last time you were here your mind was in turmoil. I am glad that you chose the right path."

"I don't understand," Jason admitted.

"When you last visited me I told you that two paths lay before you. One led to your destruction and the other to your salvation. I am truly glad that you have chosen the right one."

Hercules snorted in the background making the Oracle whip her head around to look at him, her eyes a little frosty.

"If you were so concerned why didn't you just tell him which 'path to choose'?" the big man grunted.

"Because I did not know which the correct path was," the Oracle bit back sharply. "I see only that which the gods permit me to see. Besides the choice had to be Jason's and his alone. It was not a choice that anyone could make for him." She turned back to the young man sitting with her and smiled again. "I told you then that you were embarking on a journey of the soul… that journey is nearly complete. There is only one last mountain to climb. I wish there was more I could do to help you but all I can do is give you some advice."

"And what is your advice?" Jason asked sounding almost choked.

The Oracle was silent for a moment, her fingers gently stroking the hands which rested in hers.

"You already know what I am going to say," she answered softly looking seriously at Jason.

Jason closed his eyes briefly and drew a long shuddering breath.

"I can't," he whispered.

"You must," the Oracle answered. "For this is a journey that only you can take and only you can finish. You have come further than you know already. There is nothing left to fear. This is my advice to you. Trust your heart," she looked over at Hercules and Pythagoras and smiled faintly at them, "and trust in those who love you. They will not let you down and they will not see you come to harm."

Jason looked down at his hands but did not say a word. The Oracle smiled sadly. She placed two fingers under his chin and tilted his face up until she was looking directly into his eyes, her hand gently cupping his face.

"Trust is not easily given when the heart has been damaged before," she said. "But you _must_ learn to trust again."

"I trust my friends with my life," Jason protested.

"Yes," the Oracle agreed, "but you do not trust them with your heart. You do not trust _anyone_ fully with that."

"I'm not sure I know how," Jason admitted softly.

"When the moment arrives you will know," the Oracle said with certainty. She stood and smiled at all three men.

Jason pushed himself up to his feet.

"Thank you," he said, "for all you've tried to do for me."

"No," the Oracle answered, "it is we who should be grateful. We waited so long for you to return and you are everything we hoped you would be. Our prayers truly were answered."

"I don't think I'm really who you want me to be," Jason said. "I'm nobody special – just me."

"And that is why you are special," the Oracle answered softly. "You are not like other men. One day you will come to see that. One day that which is hidden will be plain for all to see."

"What do you mean?" Jason asked.

"You will learn in time," the Oracle said as she swept on silent feet from the chamber and into her private sanctum.

Once she was gone Hercules let out an explosive breath.

"And that's the problem with mystic Oracles," he grumbled. "Nothing they ever say makes all that much sense. Now that we've got that particular little interlude out of the way could we get back to what we were doing and head back to Meriones' house for this feast?"

Jason smiled vaguely, his mind still trying to work out exactly what the Oracle had meant, and nodded. He instantly wished that he hadn't as his headache returned with full force and he grimaced before he could stop himself.

"I think returning to Meriones' house is an excellent idea," Pythagoras ventured, "and then one of us can take a headache remedy and lie down for a while until supper is ready." He gave Jason a long look as though daring his friend to argue.

"That might actually be a really good idea," Jason agreed as they mounted the steps that led back into the main body of the Temple.

Once at the top of the stairs the three friends turned towards the main door.

"Jason," a light and feminine voice called out, making them stop.

Jason turned, smiling more brightly than before.

"Ariadne," he said.

"There we go. We've lost him again!" Hercules grumbled to Pythagoras. "Oi," he said, snapping his fingers in front of Jason's face, "I thought we were going home."

Jason looked pleadingly at him.

"Just give me a minute?" he asked.

Hercules stalked off, grumbling under his breath. Pythagoras rolled his eyes good naturedly at Hercules' antics before following after his older friend. Jason watched them move away to give him and the Princess some privacy and then turned back to Ariadne with a smile.

"This seems to be the only place we see each other these days," Ariadne remarked.

"You are a princess of Atlantis and I am ordinary," Jason answered. "I do not think your father would be very happy even with us meeting here."

Ariadne smiled mischievously.

"I came here to pray and what my father does not know will not hurt him," she said as she caught hold of Jason's hand and led him behind a convenient pillar.

Once they were out of sight and sitting more comfortably on the ground, the girl continued.

"I am aware of the risk we take simply by speaking to one another and I know that if we are caught it would be you that my father would punish… and yet when I am with you all those thoughts fly from my mind. I feel more safe with you than I ever have with anyone else and I do not think of the risks we take. I am sorry. My father has forbidden me to see you and I know that I am endangering your life simply by being here… but I do not seem able to stop myself."

"I don't want you to," Jason said earnestly. "I've never known anyone like you. No-one as perfect or as beautiful. I would gladly risk my life to spend any time with you."

Ariadne sighed.

"I know that our position seems impossible and yet I dream of a day when we can be together. I still hope for that above all things and it is that hope that keeps me going," she admitted softly. "My father is not a cruel man. I know he can seem hard and cold at times but he is a good man at heart and I know he loves me and wishes for my happiness."

"I can't see him ever being happy with you wanting to marry an ordinary person though," Jason said.

"No," Ariadne agreed, "but I still believe that there will be a way for us." She looked down at the tanned hand gently holding her own and smiled softly. The secret of Jason's parentage was one which she must keep at present – even from Jason himself – and yet it gave her hope for the future. If Pasiphae could do as she desired and find a way to make Jason acceptable to Minos without the King seeing him as a threat, then there was everything to hope for; everything to play for. Her uneasy alliance with her stepmother might ultimately give her everything she dreamed of.

They sat for a short while in silence, drinking in each other's company. Presently Jason stirred.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly.

"What for?" Ariadne asked in confusion.

"I promised to meet you here last time we saw each other. I let you down."

Ariadne sucked in a breath.

"No," she said forcefully. "It is I who should be sorry. I did not listen to you. I allowed my hatred of Pasiphae to blind me to the truth. I asked you to commit treason for me. Practically forced you to promise to help me. Implied that you did not truly care for me when you tried to refuse. It was wrong of me. Especially when it was for a man who I have since learned was guilty of everything he was accused of."

Jason paled slightly. Ariadne could not know the truth could she? The very thought made his guts wrench.

"What do you mean?" he asked, trying hard to keep his voice steady.

Ariadne swallowed hard seeing her companion's turmoil, in spite of his attempts to appear calm. How had she failed to see just how upset Jason was the last time they had met? He would be mortified if he realised that she knew that it was him Alektryon had attacked of that she was certain. No, she could not do that to Jason. She must keep that knowledge to herself.

"I overheard a conversation," the Princess began, "between Pasiphae and a servant from the kitchens. The woman was begging to be allowed a place near the front for Alektryon's execution."

Jason shuddered. He still could not really reconcile himself to the awful fate Alektryon had been condemned to. The man must surely have been executed by now, he thought, although he had not been aware enough of his surroundings at the time to know. He made a mental note to ask Pythagoras about it at some point – although he wasn't entirely sure he really wanted to know the answer.

"Why?" he asked. "Why would someone want to see that?"

"Because her son had been attacked by Alektryon," Ariadne answered. "He was left for dead. Eventually he could not take the shame of what had happened and took his own life. He was only sixteen. When I heard the story that the woman told I knew it had to be the truth and I knew I had made a mistake. That I had allowed my distrust and my hatred of Pasiphae to blind me to the possibility that she was for once acting in the best interests of the people of Atlantis. I am truly sorry for what I asked of you. I should have made further enquiries instead of naively believing every word Alektryon told me. I was unfair to you."

"I still promised to be here though," Jason muttered, "and I still stood you up."

"Stood me up?" Ariadne asked, uncertain what the phrase meant.

"I didn't turn up when I was supposed to," Jason said. "I arranged to meet you and I let you down."

"Your friends met me here that night," Ariadne answered. "They told me that there had been an argument and that you had left very upset. They were worried about you… I have been worried about you too," she added in a small voice.

"Worried about me?" Jason responded. "Why? I'm fine."

"But you haven't been fine have you?" Ariadne said. "I can see it in your eyes."

Before Jason could answer Hercules came puffing around the pillar.

"Sorry to interrupt you two lovebirds," he huffed, "but there's a group of guards heading this way… I think the King is with them."

Ariadne grimaced.

"My father is due to visit the Oracle," she said, "but I did not think it was that time yet. It must be much later than I thought." She turned towards Jason. "I must go," she said, briefly lacing her fingers through his. "We must not be caught together," she paused. "I do not know when we will see each other again."

Jason smiled.

"We'll find a way," he promised.

Ariadne offered him one last sweet smile and danced lightly away to meet her father. Jason and Hercules stayed out of sight for a few minutes, hiding in the shade of the pillar until the King and his guards had passed. Once they had gone Hercules let out an explosive breath.

"_Now_ can we go?" he grumbled.

Jason smiled as Pythagoras came back to join them.

"Yeah," he said, pinching the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "I could probably use that headache tonic," he admitted with a look at Pythagoras as they made their way to the front of the Temple and back out into the streets.

* * *

The room was dark when Jason awoke in the groggy aftermath of his headache. By the time they had reached Meriones' house his tension had once again skyrocketed and the pounding in his skull had reached almost blistering proportions. It still wasn't anywhere near as bad as one of his migraines but was bad enough that all he had really wanted to do was curl up somewhere dark and quiet until it just stopped damned well _hurting_. Pythagoras hadn't even paused for breath as they had come in through the door. He'd simply taken one look at Jason's pale face and furrowed brow, eyes squinted against the light, and had ordered his friend off to his bedroom, following behind him quickly with one of his tonics. That Jason hadn't even bothered to argue and had acquiesced without a murmur spoke whole volumes to the mathematician. He had twitched the curtains at the bedroom window closed, not missing Jason's soft sigh of relief as he did so, and handed his friend the tonic to drink. By the time he had returned with a cool cup of water and a hot cloth to use as a compress – both things that helped _him_ when one of his own headaches got bad – Jason had stretched out on the bed, his eyes scrunched shut, with one hand massaging his own temples and forehead. Pythagoras had batted that hand away gently and laid the compress in its place. He knew that his friend's headache most likely stemmed from tension and had long since discovered that a hot cloth laid across the forehead in these circumstances could bring relief. Then he had quietly left the room to give Jason the chance to relax.

Once he was fully awake again Jason stretched, cat-like. He dislodged Isosceles from her place at his side as he did so, and the small creature emitted a distinctly disgruntled squeak of admonition. He hadn't really intended to go to sleep – hadn't thought that he would be able to given how badly his head had been pounding – and had simply meant to lie down in the darkness for a while until the headache started to die away. He had to admit to himself though that the nap seemed to have helped and, although his headache had not been completely eliminated and he still felt a little groggy, the combination of sleep and Pythagoras' remedies had reduced the throbbing to a much more bearable level – a level where he could pretty much ignore it.

Looking at the window he was surprised to see how dark it had become outside. While not being full night yet it was quickly heading that way and Jason hurried to get up, worrying that he had held up the feast that his friends had planned to celebrate the start of Apatouria. In the corner was a bowl and a jug of water which he used to wash the dust and grime of the day away from himself. The next question of course was whether or not his regular everyday tunic was really suitable for the occasion. On reflection Jason decided it probably wasn't. Pythagoras had given him that dark green tunic to use for special occasions and he had the feeling that tonight fell into that category. Fortunately the mathematician had packed it in the small bag of things he had brought from home on the first day he had come to see Jason at Meriones' house. Not that the brunette had been aware of that fact at the time – he had not really been very aware of anything – but he had found it carefully folded in the bag several days since. Shaking it out now and hoping that it wasn't too creased, Jason couldn't help but pause for a moment and rub the soft material in his hands. It really had been incredibly kind of Pythagoras to give it to him. Yes, the last time he had worn it had not ended well – he shuddered at the memory of Alektryon's hands against his face – but it did not alter the thoughtfulness that had been behind the gift. And Proerosia had been such a good day, Jason thought – Alektryon notwithstanding of course. Still, standing here daydreaming was not going to do him any good. The young man pulled the tunic on over his head and belted it, noting almost absently that he had to pull his belt just a little tighter than he had the last time the garment had been worn. Hercules was right, he realised – he _had_ lost a little weight. He sighed. That of course would mean that he would be subject to his friend's inevitable scrutiny and nagging for the foreseeable future. It wasn't that Jason didn't appreciate the sentiment – the affection – that was behind Hercules' concern, but he really could do without the nagging.

Peering into the small mirror that stood on top of a shelf in the corner of the room, Jason started to tug his comb through his dark curls, wincing every so often as the teeth got stuck in the small knots and tangles at the nape of his neck. There were definitely days when he wished his hair was dead straight and cut short, just so he could avoid the ritual of trying to drag a comb through the tangled mass of curls. He wondered briefly how Pythagoras managed to keep his own fluffy blonde curls relatively tangle free – it was something he himself had never mastered. It would have been easier if he had simply had his hair cut short, but ever since the incident with Mrs Johnstone and the kitchen scissors he had never really been comfortable with getting his hair cut – tended to put it off for as long as possible – and had never been particularly bothered with his own appearance. Getting dressed up made him feel distinctly uncomfortable and ill at ease, especially since it meant that it was usually a social occasion where he was expected to be on his best behaviour and make small talk – something he had never really been much good at. If he were being completely honest he would have to admit that most parties or social gatherings he had attended over the years had usually seen him tuck himself away in the darkest corner of the room and engage in the ever entertaining sport of people watching. No, he was far more comfortable in casual clothes, things he could really relax in, and there had always been far more important things to do than worry about how he looked.

With one last tug of the comb, and one last wince as the teeth caught in and pulled out a particularly vicious knot, he decided he would probably do. Putting the comb down on the shelf he noted to himself that he would need to think about purchasing a new one the next time he visited the agora. This one was beginning to look distinctly toothless. Peering into the looking glass one last time he decided that he was probably as neat and tidy as he was going to get. As he crossed the room towards the door he grabbed his wrist cuffs, tying them in place as he went and making sure that the knots were tight with one last tug of his teeth.

Supper was far more formal than anything Jason had experienced since arriving in Atlantis. There were little rituals and prayers that the other three went through that he didn't understand and couldn't join in. It all made him feel a little awkward and out of place, although his friends were clearly trying to include him as much as they could. He was glad that he had chosen to wear his best tunic though, given that both Pythagoras and Hercules were dressed in their own best clothes and Meriones was wearing a formal chiton of fine red silk bordered in gold. Jason knew his face must have registered his stunned amazement when he had seen it from the way Meriones had laughed and clapped him on his shoulder (nearly driving him to his knees with the force of it) and asked if he was trying to catch flies.

Finally the formal parts of the meal seemed to be over and everyone began to relax. For a while the only sounds that could be heard were the polite passing of dishes and the light cheerful banter of good friends. Then Meriones got to his feet, resplendent in his fine robes. The soft candle light accentuated the richness of the fabric he wore.

"My friends," he said. "It is traditional at this time and on this evening to give thanks to the gods for the blessings of home and family. My own family is long since gone and in years gone by I have found few people who I wished to celebrate Apatouria with. Many times I have passed the festival in the tavern in the company of strangers. This year has been different. This year I have been blessed by the presence of good friends – both old," he looked towards Hercules, "and new." He turned towards Pythagoras and Jason with a smile. "I am truly grateful for the blessing of friendship that I have been given. So my friends I wish to make the traditional libation and offer up the traditional prayer." The giant paused and poured some special wine into a chalice and lifted it reverently. "Great Poseidon, Earth Shaker and Lord of the Sea, I make this offering to you in thanks for blessings you have granted us this day. In thanks for the blessings of family and friendship and in the humble hope that these blessings will last through the year to come. We gather together this night to honour our fathers, both those who are still with us and those who have passed to the underworld. We ask you to look favourably upon them and to grant them your blessings also." He uttered a ritual phrase in a language that Jason did not understand and poured the contents of the chalice onto the marble floor near his feet, droplets of wine splashing up and marking the hem of his chiton.

As Meriones sat down again Hercules raised his cup in a salute to the others around the table.

"To family and friends," he said. "May the gods bless you as this day ends…"

"And may your hearth always burn brightly to lead you home," Pythagoras answered raising his own cup.

"May the gods grant you the gift of dutiful children," Meriones responded, also raising his cup.

"And the memories of loving parents," Hercules finished, motioning Jason to join the others in their toast.

For a moment Jason felt awkward and embarrassed. He simply did not know the wording of the toast that his friends were making and could not join in. Within seconds, however, it became apparent that he was not expected to speak or to know the words and that his friends were simply happy for him to be there with them. He smiled. If this was what being part of a family felt like then Jason was more than happy that his family had chosen him.

* * *

The second day of Apatouria, Anarrhysis, dawned cloudy and dark, the air heavy with the promise of a coming storm. Pythagoras had told Jason that it was a day given over to quiet contemplation and prayer; a day for making private offerings to the patron god of the house. Most Atlantian people rose with the sun and made small offerings at their household shrines. The royal household would of course make more extensive and impressive offerings at the Temple of Poseidon on behalf of both their family and the people of Atlantis, but for most this second day of Apatouria was a quiet, personal affair; a time to give personal thanks for the phratria and, if there were any male children of appropriate age, to prepare for Cureotis and the ceremonies where these boys would become citizens.

Jason looked out the window at the people hurrying by as the storm clouds broke and the first raindrops fell. Pythagoras had been worried. Apparently the weather was not auspicious and indicated that the gods were not happy. Jason had refrained from raising an eyebrow or snorting derisively knowing just how much the gods meant to his younger friend. He couldn't help privately thinking, however, that the incipient storm had more to do with atmospheric pressure than any divine interference. He had seen too much since arriving in Atlantis to completely dismiss the gods and their power but he did have to admit that his own faith was somewhat tidal – it came and went. Not that he would ever say any of that to Pythagoras of course, it would only hurt the young mathematician and Jason had no desire whatsoever to do that.

Soon he would have to leave the window seat. The wind was blowing from the east again and Jason was beginning to get decidedly chilly sitting here. He had to admit that, while the weather was generally still much warmer than what he had been used to growing up on the sleepy south coast of England, the winds that whipped in from the east and rattled the doors of the city, creeping in through the window shutters, were more than a little cold and raw – particularly with the light fabric that clothes were routinely made of here.

A clatter of feet on the outer stairs made him turn and look towards the kitchen with a smile. That would be Cassie and her father. While he knew that a time would come soon when Talos would have to get back to his everyday life and would not be able to devote the hours to visiting people for pleasure, Jason had to admit that he did enjoy seeing them. Cassie's games were becoming a little more boisterous now than they had been and the young man did not necessarily enjoy taking part in all of them, but he was willing to acknowledge that he generally found the little girl delightful. She was clever and funny and inquisitive about the world around her. Cassie had taken to bringing her little wax tablets with her most days and spending at least part of every visit sitting and trying to read to Jason. She did not do it very well yet but the young man still enjoyed listening to her attempts. He wondered just how much she could learn if she were to be allowed to be taught by the right teacher – someone gentle and kind who would answer her questions seriously. Of course her sex precluded her from school and Talos was unlikely to be able to afford a tutor for her so her education would always be limited by her circumstances. Jason sighed. It was one of the aspects of life in Atlantis that he could never quite get used to – that girls simply did not have the same access to education or the same rights as boys.

Still he would very much like to introduce Cassie to Ariadne one day; not least because the little girl clearly idolised the Princess, even going so far as to have her beloved doll, Arisbe, dressed in a miniature replica of Ariadne's court dress. Jason thought that Ariadne would probably be charmed by little Cassie too. The child was free-spirited and full of life. He sighed. As things stood it was unlikely that the two would ever meet. But his status with Cassie had been confirmed when Pythagoras had accidentally told the little girl that Jason was friends with the Princess before Jason had rescued him from playing house the day before.

Right now Cassie came barrelling into the room in search of her friend as her father went in search of Meriones to talk business. That was one good thing about the recent situation, Jason supposed. At least Talos was being repaid for his kindness in bringing Cassie here each day with some sort of business deal instigated by Meriones. Jason still felt a little guilty for the amount of inconvenience everyone had been put to one his behalf. He hated to think that he had caused any of his friends any trouble at all – and he was rapidly coming to count both Talos and his daughter in that small and select group.

Actually Jason wasn't entirely sure where Meriones was right now. Earlier in the day he had disappeared into the formal chambers adjoining his dining room to discuss business with some important merchants and hadn't been seen since. Perhaps they were still there. As though thinking about him had summoned him, the giant merchant stepped through the doorway from the dining room, smiling and rubbing his hands together.

"Well," he said spotting Jason, "it has been a good day indeed. A little more effort and I will have the deal I want."

Jason smiled.

"Your meeting went well then?" he asked.

"Indeed it did my friend," Meriones boomed. "But it is not over yet. I have merely stepped out to see to some refreshments."

The enormous man ambled away towards the kitchen, mind clearly still fixed upon his negotiations.

A persistent tugging at the edge of his tunic made Jason look down.

"Hello Cassie," he said softly to the child.

"I want to play," Cassie said insistently.

"What sort of game are we talking about here?" Jason asked suspiciously. He had been caught out a few days prior and made to attend a dolls party – if Hercules were ever to find out about that one… he shuddered. The teasing would be endless.

"Hide and seek," Cassie said. "You count."

Jason rolled his eyes but nodded. He couldn't see any harm in that and at least it meant that the girl would not be trying to tie a ribbon in his hair this time. He shuddered again.

Closing his eyes he started to count out loud, hearing the child giggle and the scuffling of feet as she darted off to hide – in the dining room if he wasn't very much mistaken. He continued to count slowly, allowing Cassie ample time to hide. The sound of a throat being pointedly cleared behind him made him open his eyes and turn around in a hurry.

Pythagoras was standing watching him with his eyebrows raised in confusion.

"What are you doing?" the young blonde asked.

"Hide and seek," Jason answered, more than a little embarrassed. "Cassie's hiding somewhere and I'm supposed to find her."

Pythagoras opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it, remembering how easily the little girl had persuaded him to play house with her the day before.

"It's alright," Jason added. "She's in the dining room. I heard her go in there. I'll give her a bit more time to hide and then I'll wander in to find her."

Before Pythagoras could respond to that a sudden squeal came from somewhere through the doorway to the dining room; a squeal that could only have come from a small girl.

The two young men exchanged an anxious look and raced off to find her.

Once they were inside the dining room it quickly became apparent that Cassie was not there. A door in the far wall – the door that led to Meriones' formal chambers – was ajar, clearly left unclosed by the merchant when he had come to fetch refreshments. Jason raced through it and into the rooms on the other side – rooms he had not yet seen – with Pythagoras somewhere behind him. The scene that greeted him made his blood run cold. A large man loomed over the little girl, having caught her arm in a tight grip, and he was saying something to the child in a husky voice.

Jason raced over and forced himself between the man and the girl.

"Get away from her," he hissed. "I won't let you hurt her."

If he had stopped to think about it Jason might have noticed that the man's grip on the child's arm was firm but in no way cruel – more like he was trying to stop her falling that trying to restrain her – and his eyes were kind. By this point, however, his brain had shut down and he reacted only to what he thought he could see – a large man attacking a young girl. He put his hands on the man's shoulders and pushed him backwards.

"You're not going to hurt her," he said again still pushing the man.

"Are you mad?" the man said.

By now the rest of the occupants of the house had entered the room, as had a couple more merchants. The merchant who Jason was shoving turned to appeal to Meriones.

"I wasn't doing anything," he said. "You have to believe me. The child ran into the room and ran straight into my legs. She fell over. As she fell she squealed. I was trying to put her back on her feet and check that she was alright when this boy ran into the room and attacked me." Honesty and sincerity shone from his eyes.

"It is alright, Sabas, I know you would not hurt a child," Meriones rumbled. "I have seen you with your grandchildren remember." He turned to Jason. "He is not trying to hurt the girl," he said firmly.

If Jason even heard him he gave no indication whatsoever. He stood with Cassie behind him, shoulders heaving and eyes wild. The air crackled with tension, not helped by the occasional crackles of lightning and rumbles of thunder that came from the open window.

"I won't let you hurt her," Jason hissed at the elderly merchant moving to shove the man again. "Not anymore."

Very slowly, as if he were approaching a wounded animal, Hercules moved towards Jason, one step at a time.

"It's alright," he rumbled soothingly. "He's not going to hurt her. I won't let him. I give you my word."

Jason stopped and turned towards the burly wrestler, eyes full of fear and indecision.

"You promise?" he asked.

"I promise," Hercules confirmed. "Nobody's going to hurt Cassie. Not like you were hurt. I won't let anyone do to her what was done to you." He took another step forward.

Jason gave a strangled gasp that was almost a sob.

"You know don't you?" he said, anguish taking over his eyes.

"I think so… yes," Hercules said softly. "And I'm so sorry Jason."

Jason held his gaze for a moment and then bolted, darting back out of the room as fast as he could. Hercules swore loudly and followed him, leaving the rest of the room to stare after them in consternation.


	29. Chapter 29

A/N So we're nearly at the end now. There's probably only one more chapter to go after this one...

Thank you all for the lovely reviews. Keep it up please! It really does encourage me to keep going...

* * *

As Hercules ran past him Pythagoras turned to follow only to find a large hand on his arm restraining him. Looking back in some confusion he found Meriones looking back at him sombrely. The enormous man gave a barely perceptible shake of his head.

"Do not follow them," Meriones advised, his voice so quiet that only the young man could hear him.

"But," Pythagoras began equally quietly.

"We will risk overwhelming him if we follow," Meriones responded, clearly referring to Jason. "Leave it to Hercules. He knows what he is doing. They will return soon enough."

"How can you be so sure?" Pythagoras murmured. "Jason ran off last time. He could go anywhere. If Hercules cannot keep up with him then he will need my help. We will need to find Jason – and only the gods know where he would go this time."

"Because I have no option but to trust Hercules," Meriones said. "Besides," he added with a faint smile, "they are still in the house – or at least in the garden."

"How do you know that?" Pythagoras asked.

"Because no-one has gone through the door to the street," Meriones stated. "We would have heard it opening and closing if they had."

Pythagoras suddenly felt much better. As long as Jason was still within Meriones' property they stood a much better chance of working out what was going on and fixing it. And what _was_ going on? He had to admit that he wasn't entirely sure why Jason appeared to have attacked an apparently innocent elderly merchant nor what Hercules had been talking about when he had spoken to their dark haired friend. Clearly the big wrestler knew, or thought he knew, something that Pythagoras didn't, and going over the conversation in his mind the mathematician began to have a dark suspicion as to what that something might be.

Allowing the young man's arm to drop, certain that Pythagoras was not about to dash after his two friends at the moment, Meriones turned back to his guests. Talos had rushed over to Cassie and was kneeling down hugging the child. Cassie herself looked on the verge of tears. Meriones felt a pang of sympathy for her. She was only six he reminded himself and the scene she had just witnessed must have been both confusing and frightening. Her father had gathered her up into his arms and was murmuring comfort into her ear. Meriones walked quietly towards them.

"Do you want to take her home?" he asked Talos gently.

The young father looked up.

"Actually I think we would both rather make sure that Jason is alright before we left," he said firmly. "If you don't mind that is."

Meriones smiled softly. Jason had a talent for inspiring loyalty, he thought, although the sad fact remained that he was clearly unaware just how much people cared.

"Of course," he said softly. "Perhaps it would be better if you went through to the kitchen. These rooms are a little too formal for your daughter to properly relax in. Besides I have some honey cakes warming near the fire if Cassie would like one."

He turned to Pythagoras.

"Perhaps you would accompany them and ensure that the child is made happy and comfortable," he murmured, knowing that Pythagoras would need to be kept busy until his friends returned. Giving him someone to look after would suit the gentle lad's nature – although Meriones did have to admit that Pythagoras had clearly been out of his depth with the little girl the day before.

He was relieved to see Pythagoras nod and move to usher Talos and his daughter back through the house towards the kitchen. Then he turned back to his other visitors. The two merchants who had come in during the scene with Jason looked both shocked and affronted – angry that one of their number had been the victim of an apparently unprovoked attack in a rival's home. Sabas, however, the elderly merchant who had been pushed by Jason and accused of trying to hurt little Cassie, looked at Meriones thoughtfully, a question in his eyes.

"Sabas, old friend, forgive me," Meriones boomed. "A thousand pardons. What happened was inexcusable. Please accept my most humble apologies."

"It's all very well for you to apologise," one of the younger merchants, a middle aged man with sparse hair and piggy eyes, burst out, "but Sabas was attacked in your home. Restitution will have to be made. By rights we should be calling the city guard!"

Meriones smiled coldly. He would have put money on Hyakinthos using the incident to try to obtain a better deal for himself and it appeared that he was right.

"As I said," Meriones reiterated looking at Sabas once again, "please accept my most humble and profuse apologies."

Sabas looked at him shrewdly.

"The boy is disturbed?" he asked.

Meriones sighed.

"Yes and no," he said. "Jason was… attacked a couple of weeks ago. He has been… unwell for a week or two. He is a lot better than he was and _is_ getting back to normal but right now he is a little… _traumatised_ I suppose the word would be. I promise you, my friend, that Jason would not normally behave towards you in this manner. He will be horrified when he calms down and realises what he has done."

Sabas' eyes narrowed even further.

"You care for this boy," he stated not even bothering to make it a question.

"He is a friend," Meriones answered simply. "I met Jason through one of my oldest friends but he became a friend of mine as well. He is very easy to like. He is brave and honest and kind hearted… and yet life has not been kind to him; people have not been kind I think. He is a strange boy but a special one."

He trailed off and looked at Sabas. The old man was looking back at him steadily.

"He thought I was trying to harm the child and jumped in to protect her," Sabas murmured softly. He looked sharply at Meriones. "This 'attack' you told me about… the boy was harmed?"

Meriones raised an eyebrow but did not say a word.

"This is all very well," Hyakinthos interjected suddenly, "but I think you are forgetting that this _boy_ attacked you Sabas. It could have been any of us. There's no justification for the way he acted. If Meriones was any sort of man he would be offering restitution… otherwise we might still be forced to call the guards," he finished threateningly.

Meriones drew himself up to his full height and took a step towards Hyakinthos, knowing that his sheer size was intimidating. Hyakinthos took an involuntary step back as he continued to bluster – petering out at a withering look from Sabas. The old man turned back to Meriones.

"Forgive my companion," he said. "He suffers from an affliction that causes him to put his foot into his mouth on a frighteningly regular basis."

Meriones chuckled.

"I have known Hyakinthos for nearly as many years as I have known you," he said. "I am only too aware of his shortcomings," he turned his head to glare at the other man.

Sabas laughed. Then he sobered again.

"I am right am I not?" he asked. "About your young friend being damaged by this attack you spoke of?"

Meriones sighed.

"It is not my place to speak of such matters," he said.

"Ah," Sabas said slowly. He sighed. "Look after that young man," he continued. "If he is indeed as special as you describe and as dear to you as I think he might be, then you have my sympathy and my best wishes. I hope the boy recovers soon."

"You are not angry that Jason pushed you?" Meriones asked.

Sabas smiled wryly.

"He was simply trying to protect the little girl from what he thought was an attack. I am a father and a grandfather and I love both my children and my grandchildren. How could I be angry at someone trying to protect a child? The young man must be about the age of my own eldest grandchildren. I would hope and pray that my own grandson would act so quickly in the defence of a helpless child."

"Thank you, my friend," Meriones said.

Sabas smiled again.

"I believe that our business can wait for another day," he said. "It merely requires the finalising of one or two details anyway. I will draw up the relevant papers for us both to sign and have them sent over to you. We can work out the fine details at a later date."

Meriones smiled softly.

"You are a good man," he said.

"No," Sabas laughed. "I am an unmitigated rogue… much like you are. But family is important – especially on Apatouria. Now go and find your friends."

Having bid farewell to his fellow merchants, Meriones turned, his face darkening into a grim expression. It was time to find out what was going on once and for all.

* * *

As Meriones restrained Pythagoras and dealt with his fellow merchants, Hercules raced through the house hard on the heels of his other friend. By the gods Jason could move quickly, he thought as he tore into the living room. From somewhere ahead of him a door banged. But it was not the outer door. No, Jason was still in the house at least. Hercules wasn't entirely sure what he would have done if the young man had taken it into his head to bolt out into the street. He raced into the kitchen. So if it was not the outer door then that really only left the door that led to the stairs and the courtyard garden. That was good, Hercules thought somewhat grimly. If Jason was there then he really had nowhere else to run and the big man could at least try to make the lad stop and listen. He made for the stairs, taking them two at a time in his haste and careened down the corridor towards the garden. Throwing open the door he raced through it and out into the courtyard.

It was immediately apparent that the storm that had been threatening all morning had broken with full force. The rain lashed down soaking him to the skin within seconds and thunder and lightning crashed spectacularly overhead. Hercules could barely see the other side of the courtyard through the rain but he could see his young friend more than clearly enough. Jason had huddled against the far wall, white faced and shivering – more from what was going on in his head than from the chilling effects of the weather conditions Hercules thought, although he did have to admit that the gusts of wind that were whipping through the garden were chilling him to the bone. Every time a flash of lightning or a crash of thunder came the lad jumped and flinched, looking up at the sky with wild eyes. Hercules took a deep breath and squared his shoulders, setting off across the courtyard at a slow and steady pace. The last thing he wanted to do was to startle Jason and drive him into even more of a panic attack than he already seemed to be having.

Jason watched him coming with his barely contained panic growing. His mind was awhirl, with all his hopes and fears warring with one another and creating a confused wall of noise that threatened to completely overwhelm him once again. One thought dominated all others though: _Hercules knew_. His breathing quickened a little more, pain flaring in his head and his chest. How would Hercules react to the knowledge that he apparently had? Would he be understanding or disgusted? Jason could scarcely hope that his friend would understand – would believe him – after all he still felt so disgusted and ashamed of himself even after all these years. And how had Hercules found out anyway? What had happened was so long ago and so far away. Or maybe it wasn't long ago. Maybe it was still to come; still thousands of years in the future. His head ached even more at that confusing thought. It didn't really matter when it had happened, or was to happen, or whatever. There was still no way that Hercules should have been able to find out. Unless it was obvious of course. Maybe everyone could tell just by looking at him. Maybe it was stamped on him like a badge and everyone knew. Maybe everyone could see how dirty he was; how disgusting. Jason shuddered, shame and anger flaring within his heart.

"He'll hate you," Hector's voice whispered insidiously. "He'll think you're disgusting. He won't want you to be around either him or Pythagoras. You know how protective he gets. Why would he allow you to be near Pythagoras? Why would he risk you corrupting and destroying everything? Because you do that you know. You destroy everything you touch."

Jason desperately wanted to argue. To tell the echo of the past that lingered in his mind to shut up and to banish it to the darkness forever. To believe without doubt that it was wrong and that Hercules would still accept him as part of the family. And yet there was always that little niggling doubt even on the best of days. Always the knowledge that this was one shameful secret that could never see the light of day. But now it had been dragged out into the open and he didn't know how he was supposed to react and didn't have the strength left to fight his own demons. Was so desperately tired that he just couldn't muster the energy to argue – to fight – anymore.

Hercules drew near and Jason watched him come with wide hazel eyes, half in the present and half in the past. They were both drenched – both shivering – although neither of them really noticed the rain at the moment. Hercules tried to smile reassuringly, worried that Jason would try to bolt again – although there really was nowhere left for him to run.

"We'd be a lot more comfortable talking inside," he said softly, soothingly.

Jason stared at him, his shoulders heaving with every indrawn rasping breath.

"I think I probably know what happened to you in the past," Hercules continued in that same soothing tone, "but I'd like you to tell me for yourself. I'd like to think you trusted me – trusted us – enough to do that."

Jason blinked, still wavering on the edge of a full blown panic attack.

"You _can_ tell us anything you know… Pythagoras and me. We're family and that won't change no matter what you tell us," Hercules cajoled.

"You'll be disgusted," Jason whispered, dropping his head to look at the floor. "You'll hate me."

Hercules winced hearing the shame and the pain in his friend's softly spoken words, so quiet that the big man had to strain to hear them over the sound of the storm.

"There's nothing you could tell me that would _ever_ make me hate you," he declared forcefully, "and I don't know why you'd think I'd be disgusted."

"Because _I_ disgust me," Jason answered. "Everything that happened… it was all my fault. I was so stupid. I let it happen. And if I tell you then maybe you won't want me around anymore. I damage everything I touch. No-one was ever supposed to know; no-one was ever supposed to find out. I can't even do that right. I buried this. It was in the past. No-one was supposed to know the truth. No-one was supposed to see how dirty I am; how disgusting."

He raised his head to look at Hercules, half expecting to see revulsion in the big man's face. What he actually saw nearly drove him to his knees. Far from seeing abhorrence or disgust, Hercules was looking back at him steadily with compassion and sorrow written on his face. The burly wrestler took another step towards his young friend.

Jason opened his mouth to speak again but all that came out was a despairing sob. Hercules closed the gap between them in a few short steps and enfolded the young man in a solid embrace, holding him tight as he felt Jason sob silently into his shoulder, releasing years of pent up anguish and heartbreak in one go.

"You're not disgusting and you're not dirty," the big man murmured, "and I don't believe that whatever happened was all your fault either. You'll have to tell us all about it soon enough – you've needed to tell someone for years I think – but right now you just let it all out. That's it… just let it go. Just have a good cry. You'll feel better after."

He wasn't sure how much Jason would take in right now; how much he would even hear over the outpouring of his own emotions. But he needed to try to help, needed to comfort, and this was the only way he could see of doing it at the moment. So he stood firm, holding his friend in his arms, allowing himself to be a rock for Jason to cling to, and muttering comforting words as he gently petted the wet and bedraggled brown curls. He could feel Jason shivering against his chest, shoulders heaving with silent sobs. It was the silence that disturbed Hercules most of all. Where and when had Jason learned to suppress his own emotions like this? It was decidedly unhealthy as far as Hercules was concerned.

"There's no need to be ashamed," he said softly. "Just let go. It'll all be alright, I promise. You don't need to keep quiet for my benefit. You don't need to try to be strong. Not here; not now. You don't need to hide anything anymore. No more running. You've run from this for long enough. It's time to stop now. It's alright to stop and it's alright to let yourself feel; to let yourself cry. Let go, Jason. Let it all go."

He was rewarded by feeling the lad shudder, his silent sobbing becoming audible as he finally gave in to his own emotions. He tightened his embrace, pulling Jason in closer and noting almost absently that the young man's shoulders were indeed just a bit thinner than they had been a few short weeks ago. They really would have to tackle Jason's erratic eating and sleep patterns at some point soon, although he did feel that they were probably linked to the lad's emotional state.

How long he stood there in the pouring rain with the storm raging all around him and his friend locked securely in his arms riding out his own personal storm Hercules would not like to guess. Eventually Jason's sobs tailed off with a few last gasping hiccups and his shoulders ceased their heaving shudders, although he continued to shiver slightly against his older friend's broad chest.

"Better?" Hercules murmured.

Jason blinked tiredly and nodded. He dropped his head feeling simultaneously glad of the love and support that Hercules was giving him and embarrassed and ashamed of his own neediness. He was exhausted and wrung out by his own emotions and his eyes were gritty, heavy and sore from crying. Hercules smiled softly.

"No need to be embarrassed," he said cheerfully. "Everyone needs a good cry now and then – even me. It helps clear the head and makes you feel a lot better."

Jason grimaced.

"Men don't admit to crying where I come from," he confessed quietly. "I can still remember one of my foster mothers telling me that big boys don't cry. I must have been six or seven at the time."

Hercules looked momentarily horrified.

"That's rubbish," he declared. "It must be a really strange place that you come from if nobody ever cries. I'm not saying that people should go around bursting into tears all over the place but you'd go crazy if you could never show how you felt – if you just kept it all inside forever." He pushed Jason back slightly so that he could look the lad in the face. "Now are you ready to go back inside before we both catch our deaths of cold?" He asked.

Jason nodded again.

"Yeah," he said noticing for the first time just how wet they both were and how cold he was. "Sorry," he added.

"Nothing to be sorry for," Hercules said heartily. "Pythagoras would probably say that I needed another bath anyway."

Jason half smiled.

"Mmm," he agreed, "at least he won't complain about you being smelly for a couple of days."

"I keep telling you both that that is a masculine musk irresistible to the ladies," Hercules stated. He kept one arm firmly around Jason's shoulders as they walked back across the courtyard – partly to make sure that the lad didn't take it into his head to bolt again and partly, it had to be said, to steer him in the right direction since his emotional outburst seemed to have left Jason exhausted enough that simply putting one foot in front of the other seemed to be a challenge. Left to direct himself the young man would probably have managed to walk straight into the pond.

As they entered the house Hercules turned and carefully pulled the door closed behind him, shutting out the storm and plunging the hallway into gloom. The corridor was no better lit than it had been the first time Meriones had brought them down here. The giant had spoken several times of the need to place lanterns in this passage but had so far been too busy to tend to it. Not that Hercules would have had time in his headlong dash down the stairs after Jason to light lanterns anyway. Still it would have been nice to have a little more light to see their way back up the steps now. Hercules huffed lightly and grumbled under his breath as he waited for his eyes to readjust to the lower level of light.

In the kitchen Pythagoras was waiting with Talos and Cassie, trying in a distracted manner to entertain the little girl although his mind was with his friends. Meriones bustled in and out busying himself with everyday tasks. All four looked up as the door to the courtyard corridor opened and Hercules and Jason slipped through. Without needing to look Hercules felt Jason stiffen alongside him, anxiety rising at the number of eyes staring at him, weight shifting slightly as he prepared to take a step backwards and bolt once again. It probably wasn't even a conscious decision, Hercules figured, just Jason's subconscious fight or flight response kicking in once again. Hercules automatically slipped an arm around the young man's shoulders before he could really move, providing silent support at the same time as physically preventing Jason from running. The time for running was long since over the big man decided.

For a moment they stood there, water dripping from soaked clothing to form small puddles around their feet. Then Meriones was there with towels and hearty words, ushering them into the room and near to the fire to dry off. Jason swallowed hard, mouth suddenly incredibly dry, feeling every eye on him expectantly and knowing that it was time to explain himself; time to tell the one story that he had hoped he would never have to think about again. Pulling the blanket he had been given a little more securely about his shoulders, he shivered as his limp dark curls dripped a steady stream of cold water down his back.

"I need to explain don't I?" he whispered.

"Yes," said Hercules, firmly but not unkindly. "I don't think you'll find peace until you do." He looked at the young man's pale face, and took in the dripping curls and the way Jason shivered slightly. "But first you need to get warm and dry… we both do."

Jason frowned.

"Sorry," he said. "You shouldn't have followed me."

"Not followed you?" Hercules grunted incredulously. "Do you really think I would ever leave you when you were upset like that?" He smacked Jason lightly on the shoulder. "Us three," he gesticulated between himself, Jason and Pythagoras, "we look after one another… and if that means following you out into a storm that's what we'll do."

Jason bit his lip and turned towards Meriones.

"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I messed up didn't I? I attacked your business associate. I wasn't thinking. I saw him with Cassie and I thought he was trying to hurt her; trying to attack her. I guess my brain sort of shut down at that point. I didn't mean… I mean… I didn't think… I messed up your business deal. I am sorry… I don't really know what came over me."

Meriones smiled reassuringly.

"Do not worry my friend," he answered. "Sabas is a good man. He is an old rogue of course, but he is also a father and grandfather. He understood that you were only trying to protect the child. He even said that he hoped his own grandsons would leap to the defence of an innocent child in the same way if they were ever in a position where they saw a child in danger. My business has not suffered as a result of your somewhat hasty actions. Sabas has taken no offence."

Jason heaved a sigh of relief.

"Hercules is right though," Meriones went on seriously. "You need to change into dry clothes and warm up a little and then I think you should explain what was going through your head that made you react in that manner."

Jason nodded. If he were being completely honest with himself he was feeling absolutely freezing now that he was back in the warm house. In the time he and Hercules had been outside Meriones had pulled up the shutters and closed the drapes in an attempt to keep the chill wind from the storm out and the warmth from the fire in. It had plunged the rooms into semi-darkness, even in the middle of the day, which the giant had countered by lighting extra lamps and candles, giving the house a cosy, homely feel. Still the homely setting did little to counter the chill that seemed to have settled deep within Jason's bones. He shivered again and pulled on the blanket, trying to draw a little extra warmth from it.

Pythagoras watched him and frowned, before moving away towards the kitchen shelves muttering softly under his breath as he started to gather several items together.

Jason turned and noticed Talos and Cassie properly for the first time. He had been aware of the number of eyes on him when he first came back through the door from the garden and yet he had not really registered who those eyes belonged to. He crouched down to the child's level and attempted to smile.

Cassie was holding a half-eaten cake in one hand and Arisbe in the other. She looked at Jason seriously, her blue eyes still slightly upset.

"You're wet," she said.

"Yes," Jason agreed. "That's because it's raining."

"Then why did you go out in it silly?" Cassie asked with a frown.

"I didn't know how hard it was raining when I went out," Jason answered. "Are you alright?" he asked.

"Yes," Cassie said. "Daddy gave me a hug and Pythagoras gave me a cake. I didn't like all the shouting."

"I'm sorry," Jason apologised.

"Why were you shouting and pushing that man? Daddy says it's wrong to push people."

"Yes it is," Jason answered. "But a long time ago a very bad man hurt me badly and I was scared that the man in the other room was trying to hurt you." He paused and sighed. "When I saw him holding your arm I thought for a minute that it was the man who had hurt me… I know it wasn't – there's no way _he_ can ever come to Atlantis – but I imagined I saw him and I got scared."

Cassie frowned.

"Do grown-ups get scared too?" she asked.

"Yeah," Jason answered. "Of course they do… and I was scared and upset and I lashed out. It's not something I should have done… It's not something _anyone_ should do… and I'm sorry I upset you."

He looked up as Talos placed a hand on Cassie's shoulder.

"We should be going," the young merchant said softly. "There are things that I have to do today. Things that I need to prepare and arrange. I wanted to make sure that everything was alright before we left but now that I can see that it is we really ought to be getting on… and I think that there are probably things you need to talk about without little ears being present." He glanced significantly at his daughter who frowned as she tried to work out what her father was talking about.

Jason nodded and smiled gratefully, pushing himself up to his feet and clasping the man's hand warmly.

"Thanks," he said genuinely. "You didn't have to stay but I'm glad you did." He looked at Cassie. "Take care of your father," he said softly. "He's a good man." He looked down at himself again. "I really do need to go and get changed," he said, "so I'll say goodbye now."

Talos smiled back at him and clasped his arm in return.

"Farewell," he said earnestly. "We will see all of you soon."

The young father caught hold of his daughter's hand and with one last wave from the little girl they were heading out into the street, Talos pulling the hood of Cassie's cloak up over her head as they went in an attempt to keep the child as dry as possible with the storm that was lashing the city.

Jason watched them go with a smile. As he turned back to his friends the smile drained away and he looked at them anxiously. Hercules had already left the room in search of dry clothing and Pythagoras was still busy with something by the fire. Meriones, however, was watching Jason steadily, his blue eyes serious.

"Go and find some dry clothes," he instructed handing Jason a fresh dry towel. "We will talk afterwards."

Jason nodded and swallowed, his mouth suddenly very dry again. As he moved into his room he began to strip off his tunic, allowing it to fall to the floor where it dropped and started to towel dry his hair almost automatically, his mind deep in other things. His soaked trousers soon joined the tunic on the ground and he kicked them into a corner along with his sandals. Eventually he knew that he would have to lay them out to dry but for now there were more important things to think about. Having pulled on clean and dry clothes and towelled his hair to the point where the dark curls were damp rather than dripping he stopped and took a deep breath. It was time to face his demons; time to face his past.


	30. Chapter 30

A/N So here we are at the final chapter! Thank you all so much for coming on this ride with me and for all the lovely reviews.

**Right so now here comes the serious bit: This chapter contains subjects which some people may find difficult or triggering. It is dark and contains a discussion that some may not like. If you don't like this sort of thing or are disturbed by the darker subject matter then please do not read.**

For one last time I'm going to beg for reviews... please, please, pretty please!

* * *

By the time Jason made it back into the kitchen dressed in dry, if not entirely warm, clothing, Hercules had already returned from his own room. The big man sat near the fire with his hands outstretched, clearly trying to warm himself up. As Jason crossed the room Pythagoras moved towards their older friend with a steaming cup of something in his hands which he handed to the burly wrestler with a smile. Hercules took it and sniffed it, his own smile becoming positively blissful as he savoured the scent of whatever was in the cup. Pythagoras rolled his eyes in a friendly teasing manner and moved away, handing another steaming cup to Meriones as he passed. Then he returned to the kitchen table and carefully picked up a small pot, dividing its steaming contents between two more drinking vessels. Jason slowly approached the table, his feet seeming to grow heavier with every step. Meriones turned and saw him and smiled widely, his hand outstretched welcomingly.

"Come my friend," he said expansively. "The day has grown colder. Warm yourself by the fire and we will sit and talk of many things."

Jason nodded but made no attempt to speak, his mouth and throat suddenly parched. Forgoing the stools and benches near the table he moved over to the fire and sat down on the floor alongside Hercules, his head almost touching the big man's knee and stared into the flames as though they contained the answers to all of life's secrets.

If Hercules was in any way surprised at Jason's close proximity to him he gave no indication. Without saying a word he took a long sip of his drink clearly relishing the flavour of the contents and dropped his other hand to rest lightly on the back of the young man's neck, his thumb rubbing small circles rhythmically and soothingly. Jason looked up at him and smiled before returning to his contemplation of the flames.

Pythagoras walked purposefully over to join them. Pausing for a moment he cleared his throat meaningfully, smiling as Jason looked up and handing him a cup before placing his own drink down and joining Jason on the floor, his one leg curled under himself and his other knee drawn up, his long arms wrapped around it loosely.

"The others have warm spiced wine but I thought that you might prefer that," he said nodding to the cup in Jason's hand.

Jason sniffed the cup, drawing in the scent of the spiced milk drink that always evoked memories of his Dad and the happy home life that he scarcely remembered, lost as it was in the hazy mists of time and memory. He smiled softly, gratefully. Somehow Pythagoras always knew when he needed this; always knew when the comfort of pleasant memories would be most appreciated. He took a good long sip and sighed appreciatively, the warmth of the fire and the milky drink beginning to thaw him out at last. Actually it was making him rather drowsy he noted, mentally shaking himself. There would be time enough to relax later. First he owed his friends an explanation for his behaviour earlier. He needed to tell them the truth. Jason bit his lip. He still wasn't entirely confident of their reactions when he finally told them what had happened, but the Oracle had been right: he _did_ need to learn to trust them.

He sat still for a long moment, fingers laced around the warm cup, looking for answers – looking for courage – in the flames. Finally he put the cup down with a sigh and half turned to face his friends.

"I owe you all an explanation," he said quietly.

"No," Pythagoras disagreed, his own cup discarded alongside himself as he moved into a position where he could give comfort and support if it was needed. "You owe us nothing. I think, however, you might just owe it to yourself. You owe yourself the chance to move on." He reached out and placed a gentle hand over Jason's. "What troubles you my friend? I would like to think that we are close enough that you could tell us anything without fear."

Jason closed his eyes and drew in a deep breath, releasing it slowly. When he opened them again he found Pythagoras looking straight back at him his own blue eyes full of love and understanding. Jason flinched and half turned back to the fire. It would be easier to tell his story to the flames he decided. Then he wouldn't have to see the compassion dying on Pythagoras' face and being replaced by the disgust and loathing that he still feared his tale might evoke were his friends not to react in the way that he hoped.

Pythagoras frowned at that little flinch, a little hurt by Jason's reaction although he tried hard not to show it, knowing that whatever was to follow was likely to be painfully hard for his friend. He edged a little closer and tightened his grip on Jason's hand.

"There's a story," Jason began, "a part of my past… It's something that I don't want to talk about… don't want to think about… I thought I'd buried it years ago; that I'd managed to forget; to move on. Only… over the last few weeks… ever since Alektryon… it keeps coming back to haunt me." He paused and licked his suddenly dry lips. "I really don't want to tell you this story," he admitted quietly.

"Why not?" Pythagoras asked gently.

"Because I don't want you to see me the way that I see me," Jason stated. "I'm scared that you'll hate me when I'm done. That you'll see me for what I am; that you'll see how disgusting I am and that I'll lose all this." He gestured vaguely around himself with his hand.

Pythagoras sighed, hating how vulnerable his friend sounded – how much like a lost and hurt child – and hating the way that Jason's softly spoken words sounded less like the beginning of a story and more like the start of a confession. He scrambled over to Jason, knowing full well that he was invading his friend's personal space but not wanting to give the other young man chance to pull back into himself again. He put his arm around Jason's shoulders pulling him into a friendly and loving hug.

"I know what it is to have a past that you try to bury," he admitted. "To have a secret that you pray will never see the light of day again. To be afraid to face what is behind you and to fear the reactions of your friends should they ever find out. I have always known, I think, that there was a darkness in your past; a darkness that rivalled my own. I have always seen the ways that you and I are alike."

"How?" Jason asked.

"Because like attracts like," Pythagoras said simply. "We are damaged creatures you and I. But Jason it does no good to run from the past forever – I learned that and I think deep down that you know it too. Whatever happened, whatever you have done or think you have done, we are your friends. We will not leave and we will not judge."

"How can you say that without knowing what happened?" Jason asked.

"Because someone who was wiser than he knew once told me that this is what friends are for: to save you." The young blonde gave his friend's shoulders one last squeeze and then pulled away, allowing Jason the space to begin telling his story.

Jason drew in a shaky breath. He looked deep into the fire for a moment and sighed.

"I was fifteen," he began. "No… that's wrong… I need to start before that… I need to go back to the beginning."

There was a long pause before the young man began again.

"My Dad disappeared when I was five," Jason said. "I've already told you that. I didn't have any other family. I was always told that my mother died just after I was born and my father never spoke about any other family. Never told anyone about where we came from or anything. When he left the powers that be tried to find out if I had any other family left but they couldn't find anyone. No aunts or uncles, cousins or grandparents. It was almost like Dad and I had just appeared out of nowhere. In the end they decided that there wasn't any other family to look after me."

He paused and took a sip of his drink.

"My Dad's friend Mac wanted to take me," he said. "Wanted to look after me… but he wasn't allowed to. He was a single man and he was out at sea for half of every year and the authorities didn't think that that was suitable for looking after a young child. So they took me on themselves. There are houses you see… places for children who don't have any family or who can't live with their families for whatever reason… or aren't really wanted. They're called children's homes back where I come from. Only there aren't that many and there are always more children than they have room for so sometimes you get farmed out to foster parents; to other families to be looked after. And most of them are nice people… you get the odd one that isn't… I've had my share of _them_… but mostly they're really nice. I mean they get paid to look after foster children but it's not a lot… just covers food and clothes and other expenses really," he trailed off.

"So you had these 'foster parents'?" Hercules asked.

"Yeah," Jason answered. "Lots of them. You see you don't always stay with the same people for very long. Sometimes there's an emergency and they have to move you in a hurry or sometimes it just doesn't work out… you don't get on with the people they put you with… but sometimes if you're really lucky you find a family that wants to keep you forever… or at least for a long time."

"But that never happened to you," Hercules rumbled. "You never found a permanent family."

"Nah," Jason admitted. "There was this one couple. Alexander and Chloe. I was seven when I went to them. I'd just come out of a really bad placement and they needed to find me somewhere to go in a hurry. It wasn't supposed to be for long. Just an emergency placement really until something else came up. Chloe always said that the authorities told her that I needed something a bit special too… that I needed a bit more looking after – after the last place. She was lovely. She used to laugh a lot; was always smiling. She loved music and dancing and chamomile tea."

Jason paused, his eyes soft and reflective and a faint smile playing at the corners of his mouth as he remembered.

"She didn't care that I left my bag packed in the corner for months just in case they moved me again or that I didn't say a word to her or Alexander for a couple of weeks." Jason didn't notice the way his friends started in surprise at this admission or the way they exchanged significant looks. He was too caught up right now in his own memories. "Alexander was quieter. He was a lot like you in a lot of ways," he looked at Pythagoras. "Anyway I ended up staying with them for nearly three years. It would have been longer but they had to move away to look after Chloe's sick mother and the authorities wouldn't let them take me out of the area. They wanted to. They talked about me living with them permanently. About adopting me… but it wasn't allowed in the end. So I went back to the children's home. I was in and out a lot for a few years. Never really managed to settle with anyone else." He trailed off into silence again.

"Why not?" Pythagoras asked.

"I wasn't the easiest child to get on with," Jason admitted. "Most of my foster parents were good people – kind people – but I've always been a bit difficult. Some of them tried really hard but I've never been very good at letting people in; at trusting them. I was always told I was a bit odd, a bit too serious, a bit too intense, a bit too obsessed with finding out what happened to my Dad, a bit too…"

"Shy?" Meriones interjected.

Jason looked startled.

"Why do you say that?" he asked.

Meriones smiled comfortably.

"You are still a little shy as an adult so I can only imagine what you were like as a child."

"Maybe," Jason said. "I never quite fit in where I came from. I was never quite normal. Here I'm normal… I like being normal." He paused. "I learned early on how to fade into the background; how to never let myself stand out; how to be forgettable and how be unseen. Because if people couldn't see me…"

"Then they could not hurt you," Pythagoras finished.

"Something like that," Jason said looking down at his hands in vague embarrassment. "Sooner or later my foster parents would have to admit that they just couldn't get on with me, or didn't understand me, or I'd do something to make them angry and then back I'd go. I was ten when they took me away from Chloe and Alex and I got bounced around so much over the next five years or so that I lost count of the number of times I moved. There were always good reasons for sending me back to the children's home but in the end it was really always because I just wasn't good enough; just didn't fit in."

He stared at the fire for a minute and took another long sip of his drink, noting that it was almost finished.

"By the time I was fifteen I'd started to run a bit wild… nothing too bad… just staying out after the curfew I'd been given… having a couple of drinks now and then even though it was illegal…" he scratched behind one ear, a little shamefaced. "There was a bit of graffiti here and there too… I mean I never got arrested or anything… never actually got caught… but I suppose I was rebelling a bit. Talking back to my foster parents, deliberately winding them up… you know, typical "teenage brat needs a kick up the backside" sort of stuff. I was pushing them and I knew it." He looked down at the ground again.

"Why?" Pythagoras asked.

"I suppose I wanted someone to care enough to stop me," Jason answered. "It was all a bit childish really. I was so used to people not caring… to having to look after myself and I was _so_ sick of it. I just wanted someone to notice and to act on it. My foster parents were good people but they'd only ever had little girls before, never a boy and never one quite so old. They didn't really know how to handle me. They were kind of straight laced and they set me a curfew and everything but I just used to ignore it. I'd stay out two or three hours after I was supposed to be home just to see how they'd react. It was always the same as well. I'd finally drag myself home to find that my foster mother had taken herself off to bed – usually with a "headache" – and my foster father would be waiting to give me the same old lecture about doing what I was told. I'd stand and listen to him for a bit and then I'd stomp off upstairs, making as much noise as I could, and the whole game would start again the next day." He worried at his lip. "I knew that sooner or later they'd send me back," he confessed, "and I just wanted them to get on and do it; to get it all over and done with."

Hercules had closed his eyes, listening to Jason in silence. He could well imagine how the lad had been acting at the time and it made his heart ache to hear it. How had these people who had been supposed to care for the boy not seen his behaviour for what it was: the cry of a lonely child desperate for someone to show that they cared? He opened his eyes and looked straight at the young man. Jason was an adult now and clearly had been for several years and yet Hercules couldn't shake the feeling that right at this moment he was seeing a much younger and much more vulnerable version of his friend.

"And did they?" he asked gently. "Send you back I mean."

Jason smiled almost bitterly. It was an expression that didn't suit him.

"Yeah," he said. "In the end I caused too much trouble… I _was_ too much trouble." He sighed. "Every time I went to a new foster home I always knew it would end up with them sending me back… and yet I always hoped it would be different; that one day I'd find somewhere to stay for good."

Pythagoras placed a warm hand over Jason's.

"You did," he said earnestly.

Jason smiled and patted the thin hand affectionately.

"Yeah. I know," he said softly. "It just took me a bit longer than most people. When I was sent back that time it was harder though. I don't really know why it was harder but that's how it felt. It felt like everyone had finally given up on me. I'd been back at the home for a month or two when this guy started to come around… I mean he had permission and everything. He had some kind of important job to do with money. He never did say exactly what he did for a living… but he was some kind of official. And he said he wanted to help the children in the home… to give them a bit of a treat and maybe a bit of a start in life. His name was Hector and he seemed really nice. He'd come around and bring all of us little presents. Never anything too expensive but little things we might not have had otherwise. And sometimes he'd take a group out… to the beach or to the swimming baths… you know, for a treat." Jason swallowed. "After a while he started to be really nice to me. Taking me out to places on my own – just him and me. He'd buy me things too… and he'd tell me that he thought I was bright and that I could go far; that all I needed was someone to look after me; to help me. And he'd say that he wanted to do that."

He fell silent again and stared into the fire, not meeting anyone else's eyes.

"I was lonely," he admitted, "and he was kind. I never even thought he might want something in return… stupid of me really. It was my own fault."

"Jason what did he do?" Pythagoras asked his blood running cold.

"It was winter," Jason answered, his voice becoming almost numb and detached, "and it was raining. It had got dark early. Hector had picked me up like he always did… he used to take me out a couple of times a week… and he'd taken me to the swimming baths. When we came out it was still raining and he asked me if I'd like something to eat – just a snack or something. I was a bit hungry from the exercise so I said yes. Then he told me that he knew this really good little place to eat that was near the baths and that he knew a shortcut. So we go down this dark little passage around the back of the baths and come out onto some waste ground. I asked him what was going on and where we were going. He grabbed hold of my wrist and pulled me towards him and started telling me that I was pretty. Such a pretty boy, he said. He started stroking the side of my face and there was this odd look in his eyes that I'd never seen before. I told him to stop messing about… but he didn't. He kept grabbing at me and telling me that I was special; that he was going to take care of me." He trailed off once more, chest tightening as the memories came thick and fast.

"Breathe," Pythagoras instructed firmly, gently rubbing Jason's back until he was calmer once more, only pulling away again when he was sure his friend was not about to descend into another panic attack.

"What happened?" Hercules asked, his voice as hard and brittle as glass.

"It doesn't matter," Jason murmured.

"Yes it does," Hercules insisted. "What did he do Jason?"

"You already know," Jason flared, suddenly inexplicably angry at being made to relive this. "Why do you need me to say it?"

"Jason," Hercules said firmly enunciating every word very clearly. "What. Did. He. Do?"

Through the tumult of his memories Jason heard the underlying anger in his older friend's voice. In his current state he was unable to distinguish the fact that it was not actually aimed at him. It shattered what little self-confidence he had managed to drag together and sent his heart plummeting. Not daring to look up and face his friends, desperately fearing what he would see on their faces, he curled in on himself and stared at the floor.

"I broke away from him and ran back to the alley," he said in a small voice. "Part of me still thought Hector was messing around but I didn't like it. He chased me into the alley and caught me… got me pinned face first against a wall. I kept telling him to stop but he wouldn't. I tried to push him off but he was bigger than me… I was a bit scrawny back then."

"What did he do?" Hercules asked for a third time.

Jason swallowed the bile that was rising in his throat.

"I don't really remember," he said hoarsely.

"Yes you do," Hercules stated. "What did he do?"

"He had me pinned against the wall and he kept fondling me," Jason answered his voice growing ever more detached as he lost himself in the memory of that night. "I couldn't seem to get him off me. And he kept telling me how special I was; how pretty. It was still raining. Isn't it funny the things that you remember even after all these years? It was raining and the rain kept running down the back of my neck and it was cold and it tickled."

"What did he do?"

"He forced me to… he wanted…" Jason's breath was coming in ever more desperate gasps, ragged and rasping. "He raped me," he said numbly.

As the full impact of what he had admitted hit him, Jason launched himself up onto his knees bile rising into his mouth and acid burning the back of his throat as his stomach twisted and cramped. A hand shoved a large bowl under his nose just in time as he vomited everything that he had eaten or drunk in the past few hours.

As the conversation had progressed and as it had become increasingly apparent which direction Jason's story was headed in, Meriones, realising how the lad might react to finally facing the memory he had been running from for so long, had slipped back to the kitchen cupboards unnoticed by any of the others and had retrieved the large bowl which he now thrust in front of Jason just in time.

With his stomach now completely empty, Jason continued to dry heave painfully over the bowl for some minutes, tears leaking from the corners of his eyes as agonising cramps continued to grip his abdomen. His vision tunnelled and his head swam alarmingly as his breath came in ragged pants in between the heaves. He was unaware at first of the firm hands grasping his shoulders, keeping him from falling or of the soft words of comfort being murmured into his ear, as a gentle hand rubbed up and down his back. Finally the cramps subsided and he collapsed back against something solid but warm. As the iron band of tightness that seemed to have clutched his chest eased off and he became more aware of his surroundings he was embarrassed to discover that the solid piece of furniture he had thought he was leaning against was in fact Hercules' broad chest.

The big man had slipped down to the floor as Jason broke and had slid in behind the young man, holding him safe and secure, rubbing the lad's back with one rough, callused hand. Pythagoras came around from the front and tried to calm and comfort Jason with words while his hands ran up and down his friend's arms as a physical way of reassuring him.

Exhausted and shattered Jason looked up into the young mathematician's face, terrified of what he would find there. All the fight had drained from him and he half lay against his bulkier friend, limp and sapped of all energy. If his friends really did want him to leave once he finally finished his story then he would not fight them; if they were disgusted by him then he would not – could not – argue.

Pythagoras looked back at him, his gaze unwavering and his blue eyes filled with boundless love, understanding and sorrow. Jason stared at him in confusion, unable to process what he was seeing. He risked a glance back over his shoulder at Hercules and saw the same expression on his older friend's face. He frowned. Why weren't they repulsed by him? He didn't understand.

"You never told anyone did you?" Pythagoras asked.

Jason shook his head, still beyond speech at the moment.

"Why not?" the young genius asked.

As he spoke Meriones came forwards again with a cup of cold water poured from a pitcher on the table. He handed it to Jason who took it wordlessly, looking up at the giant with grateful eyes. The young man took a sip and swilled it around his mouth, spitting into the rancid bowl. Then he took another, longer sip which he swallowed, sighing in relief as the cool liquid soothed the burning in the back of his throat. The water tasted wonderfully sweet after the disgusting combination of vomit and bile which coated his teeth and tongue. He blinked tiredly at Pythagoras, knowing that the mathematician deserved an answer to his question.

"He said that no-one would believe me," Jason murmured huskily. "After it was over he seemed surprised that I was upset. He was angry at me for struggling. Said that I'd led him on. That I'd made him believe I wanted it… Maybe I did. I don't know. I just… I didn't mean to lead him on… to give him that sort of idea… I don't really know what I did to make him think that. He said it was all my fault." He closed his eyes and swallowed convulsively. "He was right," he admitted. "It was my fault. I should have seen what was coming. I should have known better. I _did_ know better. I knew not to trust people – not to let anyone get close – and I still let it happen. I should have fought more. After it was all over I was just so ashamed and guilty… and I felt so dirty. No matter what happened I couldn't get clean again. And I couldn't tell anyone. Couldn't let them see. He said that if I told anyone then _everyone_ would know. Everyone would know how shameful and dirty and disgusting I was; how I led him on."

"This was never your fault," Hercules growled. "You were not responsible for what that evil, sick freak did to you. He knew what he was going to do from the first moment he walked into that house where you were living. He planned it and he led you up to it. This was organised from the start. He came to that house planning on finding a young boy to use. The fact that it was you and not another lad was incidental. You never led him on, even by accident – you never had to."

"He was still right though," Jason said, exhaustion dripping from every word, "there would have been no point in me telling anyone. No one would ever have thought I was telling the truth anyway. He was a pillar of the community; a well-known local figure who was going out of his way to help those less fortunate than himself. And I was a difficult, unwanted teenager, known for not being able to settle down and for not getting on with people. Who would ever have believed the likes of me?"

"I believe you," Hercules answered softly.

Jason shuddered against him, the last tension leaving him. Somehow, despite everything he had feared, his friends still cared. They were not repulsed by him and they didn't want him to leave. In spite of all the adventures and dangers that the three of them had faced together that had still been Jason's worst fear. Relief warred with shame and, unable to control his emotions, tears began to slip down his face.

Pythagoras, looking almost on the verge of tears himself, came forwards again and tugged Jason gently away from Hercules, pulling him into his own embrace and doing what he did best: comforting. He held Jason securely against his shoulder, patting and petting the still damp dark curls and drawing soothing patterns on his friend's back as his mouth poured a steady stream of reassuring words into Jason's ear until his tears had passed.

"I don't understand," Jason murmured. "I'm dirty; tainted. Why can't you see that? Why don't you want me to leave?"

Pythagoras paused a moment and swallowed, thinking carefully about his next words; knowing the impact that they could potentially have.

"Because you are my friend," he said. "I do not see someone who is dirty or repellent in any way. I see the bravest, strongest person I know. I see someone who has survived everything that life has thrown at him; has survived true darkness and horror; and in spite of all that is still the noblest, most selfless person I have ever met." He paused and sighed. "I do not see someone who in your words is "tainted" or "disgusting". I see a friend that I love. I see the friend who I am in awe of."

"How can you say that?" Jason asked brokenly. "I'm not someone to look up to."

"Jason you have taken whatever blows that life has thrown your way and picked yourself up off the floor every time," Pythagoras murmured, resuming tracing patterns on his friend's upper back. "You did not allow what happened to you change who you are. You did not become bitter or cold. You are a good man."

"He's right," Hercules added. "Whatever happened in the past is in the past. It's not who you are now. And I think we've got to know each other well enough in the time you've been here for us to have worked out what sort of person you are."

Jason raised his head tiredly from Pythagoras' shoulder and looked at his older friend.

"How did you know?" he asked. "How did you know what had happened?"

Hercules sighed.

"I didn't know the details," he admitted. "I only really had suspicions. The way you've been since Alektryon… the way you reacted when I asked you if anything like that had happened before… what happened earlier with that merchant only confirmed things really." He paused. "I should have realised it earlier though. You practically told us on the night that Alektryon attacked you."

Jason frowned.

"What do you mean?" Jason asked.

"You said that it wasn't as if it was the first time you'd been propositioned… only you hadn't just been propositioned last time. I should have picked up on what you were saying at the time – what you were trying to tell us whether you realised it or not. I'm sorry it took me so long to put it all together."

"I wouldn't have told you anything even if you had picked up on it," Jason responded.

"Maybe not," Hercules acknowledged, "but I don't think you'd have directly lied if I had asked you outright. Deflected the truth maybe; tried to change the subject or used your anger towards me to provoke an argument and avoid the conversation; but not lied." He looked seriously at Jason. "That's one thing you're not," he said. "A liar. You keep a lot of secrets that you shouldn't and evade the truth when you should tell it, but you're not a good liar and I don't think you could actually look me in the eyes and tell a bare faced lie."

Jason sighed, too shattered to argue, and laid his head back on Pythagoras' shoulder drawing comfort from his friend's unwavering support.

Hercules looked at the young mathematician and nodded, carefully sliding out from behind Jason and pushing himself to his feet.

Moving quickly and quietly Hercules made his way into Jason's room. He rolled his eyes in amused affection at the sight of the pile of wet clothes kicked into the corner and paused to pick them up, laying them out to dry on top of the chest in the corner. With a smile he turned down the sheets on the bed, making sure that there was a warm fur ready to lay out on top, retrieved Jason's kitten from the window seat in the living room and deposited her on the bed.

Satisfied that his preparations were as good as he could make them he made his way back into the kitchen. He had known that Jason was shattered after their conversation in the garden and could only be even more tired now – probably bordering on the edge of dropping from sheer exhaustion. It was time to persuade him to get a little sleep. Hercules firmly believed that the lad would feel better for it, although he knew that it would not fix everything – not by a long shot. Still they knew the worst now – his worst fears had indeed been confirmed – and they could work with it; work together to help Jason move past this.

Moving forwards he looked over at the two lads sitting by the fire, watched over by a protective Meriones. Jason was already half dozing on Pythagoras' shoulder, the mathematician's arm still wrapped securely around his friend. Hercules smiled. Somehow he didn't think it would be too difficult to persuade his dark haired friend to take a nap. The lad was actually charmingly docile when he was a little sleepy. As long as he wasn't too tired, the burly wrestler thought ruefully. Then he had a tendency to act like a grumpy toddler.

Moving forwards again the big man exchanged a look with Pythagoras, each knowing through long association what the other was thinking. Walking over Hercules crouched down in front of the two young men and, with a nod to Pythagoras, reached out a hand and gently touched Jason's shoulder.

"Come on," he said kindly but firmly. "You're tired. I think you could probably do with a nap."

Jason nodded sleepily. He let himself be pulled to his feet and stumbled over towards the bedroom guided by Hercules' warm and steady hand in the middle of his back. It was funny, he mused, after everything that had happened, everything that he had said, you would have thought that he would have been uncomfortable with being touched – particularly if that touch came from an older man – and yet he felt absolutely safe and secure with Hercules; the big wrestler would never consciously hurt him and would protect him from harm wherever possible.

Hercules smiled softly to himself as he watched Jason slip under the bedclothes. The young man really was as drowsy as the wrestler had suspected he might be and would undoubtedly be asleep within a matter of minutes. He carefully shook out the fur cover and laid it over the top of his friend, smoothing it down gently, and watched Isosceles crawl up the bed and snuggle into the lad's side, providing her own warm, furry, purring comfort blanket.

As Jason's breathing evened out into the soft rhythm of sleep, Hercules reached down with one meaty hand and gently, oh so gently, brushed the slightly too long curls back away from his eyes. It was probably past time for the lad to get a haircut the big man decided but that was really rather up to Jason. If he wanted to look like a bandit or a ruffian that was his business. And yet the big man could not help the surge of protectiveness towards his young companion. By the gods the boy looked young when he slept. Perhaps it would do no harm to lightly suggest (just suggest mind you – he refused to accept the idea that he might ever nag) that a haircut might be in order… and some food… and definitely an alteration to Jason's sleeping patterns… and some new winter clothes while he was at it… and…

Hercules shook his head ruefully. When exactly had he turned into his father? And when exactly had his friends become more than that? Had almost become his adopted children by default. It was more complicated than that, he knew – and he really had no right to treat either of the boys as anything other than just friends – and yet here he was tucking one of them into bed and worrying about whether the boy was warm enough. He smiled and lowered himself to the floor. There was a chance that after the story he had told, Jason might have nightmares as a result of the resurfacing memories and Hercules was not going to let him face them alone. It was what any good friend would do he told himself, resolutely ignoring the little voice from inside that told him that it was actually what any good _father_ would do.

A sound from the doorway made him look up. Pythagoras slipped into the room on silent feet, a pair of cups in his hands, and came to join his old friend beside the bed. Hercules gratefully took the spiced wine that the mathematician proffered and slipped an arm around the young man's thin shoulders. Pythagoras leaned into him for a moment, still appearing on the verge of tears. Hercules let him rest against his broad shoulder willingly providing the silent companionship that Pythagoras clearly needed. The day had been hard for all of them. The big man rested back against the wall, one lad secure in his arms and the other slumbering peacefully on the bed, and closed his eyes. The storm was passing, he noted almost absently as a distant rumble of thunder sounded, both outside and inside. Now it was time for healing to begin.

* * *

The day of Cureotis, the last day of the festival of Apatouria, had dawned bright and clear. The heavy storm of the previous day had long since passed, the final rumblings fading away in the night. While Atlantis never truly became cold as winter progressed, severe storms would rack the coastline and the wind that lashed the streets at those times could be bitter. Pythagoras sighed as he looked up from the food he was preparing. Those storms, which had already begun to appear infrequently, would only grow worse over the next few months both in terms of severity and frequency until spring began to arrive.

The young mathematician had to admit that he didn't really like winter. It was a lean time when work and therefore food became less. Now more than ever he was glad that he had set aside some of the money that Jason had given him for the household bills from his job at the docks. Meriones had quietly informed Hercules and Pythagoras that the harbour master, Perdikkas, had told him that there would still be a job available for their friend at the docks if he wanted it, albeit on a casual basis now that the regular worker he had been covering for was back at work. He hadn't told Jason himself yet though, correctly feeling that the young man was not yet ready to even think about returning to work and knowing that Jason would only try to push himself if he knew.

Actually since the revelations of yesterday Jason had seemed a lot calmer than Pythagoras would have expected. He had slept for several hours, clearly exhausted by his own emotional turmoil. When he had woken up he had seemed quiet and introspective – something that Pythagoras supposed was only to be expected – and that had carried on into today as well. Jason obviously needed time to adjust and to come to terms with everything that had happened yesterday. At least he had told them the worst of his secrets though; had faced his past and realised they would not think any less of him for it. That was important. Pythagoras started to hum softly to himself as he prepared the meal. It might take some time but they did see to be on the right path now at least.

As though thinking about him had summoned him, Jason drifted into the room deep in thought. In his hand he carried a small cloth wrapped bundle that immediately piqued his brilliant friend's curiosity. Pythagoras had seen him with this bundle several times over the last day or so but had yet to discover its contents.

"Something smells good," Jason remarked, wandering over to the fire and picking up the spoon to stir the pot.

Pythagoras smiled. If it had been Hercules he would have felt the need to grab the spoon from his friend's hands knowing that the big man's idea of stirring supper was to eat most of it in the name of "testing the quality". Jason on the other hand could at least be trusted not to do that.

"Today is the day of Cureotis," Pythagoras said, "when young men are presented by their fathers to the phratria and become citizens of Atlantis. Whilst there is no-one in this house – or indeed of my acquaintance – that will be going through the ceremonies I thought it would be nice if we all shared a special meal. It will not be quite the feast that we shared two days ago on Dorpeia – there will not be the rituals associated with it for a start – but I still felt that there was much to be thankful for and that it would be pleasant to enjoy a good meal in good company."

Jason smiled.

"Yeah, you're right," he said. "There is a lot to be thankful for." He glanced down at the bundle in his hands. "I'd better go and finish a couple of things before we eat then."

Now Pythagoras' curiosity was _really_ aroused. He stopped chopping vegetables and gave Jason his full attention, the knife still in his hand but completely forgotten.

"What "things" do you need to finish?" He asked, trying to appear casual.

Jason chuckled lightly, knowing that he had managed to fire his friend's inquisitive nature. What he was doing was really no great secret but he still wasn't going to spoil the surprise by letting things slip until he was ready.

"Have you never heard that curiosity killed the cat?" he teased.

Pythagoras looked bewildered.

"Which cat?" he asked. "And how could they have been killed by curiosity? Really Jason that does not make sense."

Jason grinned openly at Pythagoras' confusion. It was always fun when his logical friend failed to understand one of his sayings – Pythagoras always managed to look so sweetly befuddled. He chuckled again and clapped the young genius lightly on the shoulder.

"It's just a saying," he said lightly as he slipped away before his friend could realise he had gone.

Dinner that evening was light and cheerful. If Pythagoras closed his eyes he could almost imagine that they were sitting around the table at home – albeit with Meriones with them – the atmosphere was so comfortable and familiar. Meal over they lingered over cups of good wine and slices of juicy and succulent fruit that Pythagoras had reserved for dessert as Hercules told tall tales of his heroism or romantic conquests – tales that were added to occasionally by one of his three friends with a sarcastic comment here or there.

"So I broke into her room," Hercules said. "She was a lovely girl… with just the hint of a squint… made lovely pies."

"And of course that had no bearing on the depth of your affection," Pythagoras murmured.

"You wound me Pythagoras," Hercules said with one hand to his chest in an affronted manner. "I'll have you know that I cared deeply for Dorothea." He paused before plunging back into his story. "Anyway, as I was leaving her a token of my affection she woke up and started screaming… you've never heard such a noise."

"I'm not surprised if she woke up and found you looming over her," Jason interrupted with his eyebrow raised.

"She was clearly terrified," Hercules continued, completely ignoring Jason's comment, "and her cries woke the whole household. Her father was a terrible man… fearsome… and very jealous of his daughter's chastity. I tried to explain that I was merely leaving her a token of my feelings… something for her to remember forever… but that just seemed to make things worse. He released the dogs and I ran and I ran. They were fast… fast as Arion…"

"Arion?" Jason murmured to Pythagoras.

"The divinely-bred, immortal and eternally swift horse. A child of Poseidon. So fast that no mere man or beast could catch him unless he wished it," Pythagoras answered.

Hercules shot them an exasperated look, mildly annoyed that his story had been interrupted again.

"They chased me for miles but I was too quick for them and got away," he boasted.

"_Really_?" Jason asked.

"Yes really!" Hercules responded. "When I was your age no man on the field or in the arena could run faster…"

"Yes, yes," Pythagoras interjected. "Or jump higher. We know. You have told us."

"Frequently," added Jason.

Hercules looked mildly put out as his two younger companions teased him. Meriones watched them in amusement, noting how easily they all seemed to slip back into the light banter.

"So what happened," he asked, toying with his wine cup.

Hercules sighed.

"Her father decided it was time to return to Thebes the next day," he admitted. "Apparently he felt that Atlantis was too depraved for his innocent daughter."

"Atlantis was too depraved or you were?" Pythagoras asked.

Jason dropped his head forwards to look at the table – the way he often did when he was trying to control his laughter. Hercules smiled affectionately. It was good to see his young friend in such a happy and relaxed mood after all the trauma of the last few weeks. Realistically they all knew that it would not be that simple, that there would probably still be bad days when Jason disappeared back into his own head or had black moods, but at least life seemed to be beginning to get back on track. The big man was startled when Jason looked back up and stared straight at him, all traces of humour now gone.

Jason looked around the table and swallowed, suddenly intensely nervous. He cleared his throat and took a sip of wine to moisten his unexpectedly dry mouth.

"This is probably going to come out all wrong," he muttered quietly, "but I'm going to say it anyway." He paused and swallowed again, smiling a little bashfully at his friends. "I was talking to Pythagoras a couple of days ago and he asked if there was anything like Apatouria where I come from."

"That is right," Pythagoras encouraged him, "and you told me that the nearest thing you had was your 'Father's Day'."

"Yeah," Jason agreed. "Anyway it sort of got me thinking. I mean… on Father's Day we give presents to our Dads." He stood up and came around the table to the startled Hercules. "I know you're not my father… and I'm not really looking for a Dad… I think I'm probably a bit old for that now… but anyway I suppose I just wanted to say thanks for putting up with me and for looking after me over the last couple of weeks… I mean I know I need to thank you all… and I guess I can never thank any of you enough but… what I mean is… you were there when I did need a Dad… when I needed someone to give me a hug and tell me everything was going to be alright… and you never gave up on me no matter what… and I appreciate it… so I wanted to give you this," he held out a small leather pouch shyly, "just to say thanks I guess." He looked at the floor in embarrassment, shifting awkwardly on the spot.

Hercules took the pouch carefully, almost reverently, and tried to swallow past the lump in his throat, suddenly unable to speak. He unknotted the top carefully and gently shook out the contents into his hand. There resting on his palm were a set on knucklebones inexpertly carved from wood and decorated with brightly coloured painted patterns. He stared at them for a minute.

"You made these?" he asked thickly.

"Yes," Jason answered softly, clearly abashed. "They're a bit rough… sorry. It was probably stupid of me… I know they're not that good but…"

"They're perfect," Hercules said gruffly, his voice full of emotion, as he pulled the young man into a firm hug. "Thank you."

Jason returned Hercules' hug and let his head drop onto the big man's shoulder.

"Can we go home soon?" he asked. He turned to Meriones with a slight frown. "I mean you've been fantastic and this place has been a haven. It gave me peace when that was what I needed so very much. And I don't want to seem ungrateful but it feels like it's time to go home now."

Meriones smiled.

"If it feels like it is time to go home then it most definitely is, my friend," he said. "It has been my pleasure to give what aid I could. There will always be a bed for you here should you need it but for now you must return to where you belong."

Hercules smiled softly.

"It _is_ time to go home," he said. "For all of us." He reached out his free hand to Pythagoras, his smile widening as the young mathematician joined his friends. "We'll go home in the morning," he promised.

* * *

With a couple of brief words and a swift exchange of coins Hercules collected a loaf of bread from the bakery stall and trotted off down the street towards home. Coming around the corner he felt a hand on his shoulder as Pythagoras joined him. The young mathematician smiled, tucking his own purchases of vegetables and fruit under his arm. Both friends turned in response to a called greeting. Jason trotted over to them with the milk jug and a cloth wrapped cheese that Hercules immediately started eyeing greedily.

"What's that?" Pythagoras asked.

"Cheese, I think," Jason responded. "A present from Egina."

He was rewarded by blank looks from both of his companions.

"The milk seller," he clarified with an eye roll. "Apparently she doesn't like it when she doesn't see me for a while… that and she thought I looked like I needed feeding up," he added uncomfortably.

"I keep telling you that you need to eat more," Hercules grinned openly.

"Nagging me you mean," Jason retorted.

"I do not nag," Hercules growled. "I simply put my point across firmly. I'm only…"

"Nagging," the two boys interrupted as one.

Hercules rolled his eyes. In reality he was fairly pleased. It was true that even after two weeks at home Jason was still perhaps a little quieter than either of his friends were used to and most definitely a little thinner than Hercules liked to see, but he was slowly getting back to normal. He was sticking a little closer to home than he usually did and did not venture far on his own yet – in fact today marked the first time he had volunteered to go to the busiest part of the agora on his own, pointing out that it would save them time if they split up to do the shopping. The fact that he had wanted to do this was a very good sign as far as his friends were concerned that the young man they had both befriended all those months before – had come to know and love – was gradually recovering from his problems. He had even suggested that in a few days he might go down to the docks and see about getting his job back.

Hercules smiled and placed a light and friendly arm around the lad's shoulders.

"Well if you've both quite finished making baseless insinuations about me I think we should get this food home," he declared. "There are things that I am supposed to be doing and places that I'm supposed to be."

"And which tavern would these "things" be in?" Pythagoras asked with some asperity.

"You wound me Pythagoras," Hercules answered. "What could make you think such a thing?"

As the three men bantered back and forth, Pasiphae stood in the shadows of a recessed doorway, wrapped in a thick cloak and watching her son with a longing expression that the world would never be allowed to see, until he turned another corner and was lost from sight in the Atlantian crowd. He was thinner than he had been the last time she had seen him and seemed quieter than she would have expected. Perhaps food had been scarce lately? And yet neither of his friends appeared to have lost weight. Then there was his mysterious absence from the city for so long. The only conclusion that Pasiphae could draw was that Jason had been unwell. Her heart clenched briefly at the idea of the boy being ill without her even knowing about it. Soon things would be different she promised herself. Soon she would begin to make the moves that she needed to, to ensure Minos' eventual acceptance of the lad. Soon Jason would be by her side and no one would take him away from her again. Soon her own grip on power, through her son and Minos' brat Ariadne, would be assured.

Pasiphae smiled wolfishly. Soon Jason would know who he really was and nothing would ever be the same again.

* * *

**So that's the end then... for now at least. I hope I'll see you all again next time around. Time for a new story to begin...**


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