Title: Waiting for the Night to Fall
Author: JaimeBlue
Fandom: Herc/Xena
Pairing Joxer/Ares
Archive: Yes to all
Rating: NC-17
Category: angst/tear-jerker
Warnings: mpreg, character death, spoilers for TLFE
Disclaimer: They don't now, nor have they ever belonged to me.
Dedication: To my friend Justin -- may he forever live in our hearts.
Summary: One lonely night, two men console each other after the deaths of the women they loved.

*********************

Joxer pulled the reigns and stopped his horse before the decrepit temple. He sighed. Yet another town and yet another temple to the God of War, or *former* God of War. Ares had not been seen for four years -- not since Joxer had watched him disappear from a Grecian beach carrying the body of the Warrior Princess.

For four years, Joxer had traveled across Greece with Xena's longtime companion, her horse Argo. In every town, every city, every village he visited, he'd searched for clues to the whereabouts of his supposedly dead friends. He'd also made visits to every temple devoted to the Greek God of War in the hopes that the absent God would answer his summons and tell the mortal where his friends could be found.

Not once had he been answered. His only consolation was that, while he hadn't heard from Ares in four years, neither had anyone else in Greece.

After all that time, Joxer had become disheartened, fearing he would never find his friends. He had explored most of the countryside and had yet to find a single clue to justify his belief that Xena and Gabrielle were still alive. The town he'd just entered was just past the edge of Greece's border with Rome, and had been recently conquered. He barely registered the signs of recent battles, their having become all too familiar in Joxer's travels through a War Godless Greece.

Patting the palomino's neck, he dismounted, grunting as his tired feet hit the dirt road.

"Stay here, girl. You know the routine," he said, rubbing the horse's nose in comfort. "I won't be long."

Half-heartedly, Joxer made his way into the dark, dank, and very dirty temple. It looked as if it had been abandoned shortly after the people had been by their God. He instinctively moved to the main altar, which was situated in the same place in every temple, and laid his hand upon the marble.

"Hey Ares, wherever you are, get out here and talk to me," he droned, not even bothering to attempt any enthusiasm. Until recently, he'd at least felt some tendril of hope that Ares would appear after he spoke in every temple. Now, he only felt tired.

He sighed. As usual, no words, no flashes of light, no loud noises -- nothing. Straightening his shoulders, he turned and started walking for the entrance.

"What do you want?" a ragged whisper echoed against the dusty walls.

Joxer paused, holding his breath as the fact that it was in fact a voice he'd heard registered on his senses. He turned swiftly, his eyes searching the darkness for any sign of movement. There! In a far corner, what Joxer had thought was simply a bundle of dust started moving, raising onto two long legs.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Joxer sputtered.

The figure stalked toward him, brushing off the dust that covered his body, and gradually moving out of the shadows. "I should be asking you that question..." The man's face finally hit the light and two glowering eyes finally met Joxer's, only to dim with the shock of recognition. "Joxer?"

His jaw dropped a little in shock. No, this couldn't be him. He was so *dirty* and his voice was so... defeated. This man couldn't be the God of War, could he? "That's right, I'm Joxer," he managed to reply.

The man reached out and grabbed Joxer's shoulders so hard he feared they would take days to heal. As their eyes stared into one another, Joxer no longer had a doubt that this was in fact Ares who stood before him. "Joxer, what are you doing here?"

"Looking for you, Ares. I want you to tell me where they are."

The hands released Joxer as the figure turned toward the altar, grabbing onto its edge for support. "They're dead."

"They aren't dead!" Joxer yelled, moving over to Ares, grabbing his shoulder to turn him. "They aren't! You know where they are, and you're damned well going to tell me!"

The pain and unshed tears in the God's eyes were nearly his undoing.

"I held them in my arms, Joxer. Their spirits had left their bodies. I gave them a proper burial, as they deserved."

"You bastard!" Joxer shoved Ares back into the altar, his anger so all-consuming that he didn't even realize the God wasn't fighting back. "How could you do this to them?! They weren't dead! They couldn't have been." Joxer's hands ceased their shoves and grabbed onto Ares' dusty vest, more for support than in anger. "They didn't leave me."

"They left us, Joxer. They're in a far better place. And you and I, we're left here..."

"...alone." Joxer felt as if he were about to collapse, but he was held up by the hands that suddenly appeared to pry his own off the leather vest. "Oh Gods, they can't be gone. I-I don't know how to live without them..."

"Don't talk like that!" A spark lit in the God's eyes. "Don't you even think it! You can't die. You're all that's left of them. You got that? If you die, then they die too!" Joxer's face turned away from Ares', eyes squeezed tight to prevent any tears from escaping. "They need you to stay alive for them. I need you to stay alive for them."

Joxer took a deep breath and looked up into Ares' eyes. "You know, you really need a bath."

Both men let out small laughs, the first either of them had released in four years. Joxer's hands were freed from Ares' grip and he rubbed them unconsciously.

"So do you. When's the last time you slept in an inn?"

"You know, I can't remember. I've just gotten used to spending my nights with Argo. She's all I have..."

"You've been searching for them all this time, haven't you." Joxer nodded and Ares sighed. "Damn it, I'd hoped you'd have found someone and settled down by now."

"I couldn't. They were my friends, and I had to find them. I still have to find them."

"I can't take you to where they are, Joxer. It's too dangerous for mortals."

"I still have to try, Ares, whether you want me to or not."

The two men stared at one another, Joxer's eyes reinforcing his will.

"How long will you be in town?"

"I thought I'd stay the night and head off first thing in the morning. Why?"

"If you don't have a place to stay, you're welcome to spend the night here. So far, my family hasn't found me here, yet."

"Why would they be searching for you?"

"I betrayed them, taking Xena's side over theirs. They want revenge, and will stop at nothing to get it."

"Where would Argo sleep?"

A slight smile appeared on the God's face. "There's a stable out back. And don't worry, the private chambers are a little better kept than the main area."

Ares moved toward the temple's entrance and Joxer quickly followed. "And you choose to sleep out here because..."

The God stopped suddenly but didn't turn around, as if afraid to meet Joxer's eyes. "The atmosphere agrees with my mood."

Without another word, Joxer followed Ares outside where the God led Argo to a nearby stable. Once the horse was settled for the approaching night, Joxer was led inside the temple through a back entrance. As he passed through the hall and the accompanying rooms, he looked around, amazed at the difference between the main hall and the private quarters. Not only were they clean, but well-lit with many torches and braziers in almost every corner. The stone walls were highlighted with shades of gold, silver, and scarlet, lending them an air that suited their owner perfectly.

Ares finally stopped in a large bedroom, opening a door to reveal a side room containing a fair sized bathing pool.

"You can wash up in there. I will leave some clothes on the bed for when you are finished. There are towels next to the pool."

After taking a long look at the irresistibly steaming water, Joxer turned pleased eyes on his host. "Thank you."

Ares coughed. "It's nothing. When you're finished and dressed, you can go down the hall to the dining room where supper will be waiting."

Ares turned for the bedroom door, but stopped when Joxer spoke. "And what about you?"

Ares turned slightly as he replied. "I'll see you in the dining room. As you said, I too need a little freshening up."

As the God left, Joxer turned back to the pool with a small smile.

* * *

The bath had been pure Elysium on Joxer's aching muscles. After drying himself off, he'd pulled on the clothes that awaited him on the bed and couldn't help but admire how they suited him. When he'd arrived in the dining room, he suddenly felt as if he'd entered an alternate universe, for there sat Ares looking exactly as he had since the day Joxer had first met the God, completely clean with a slight snarl permanently etched on his face. The only difference was the dark eyes, which looked almost dead.

After a quiet but fulfilling meal, Ares retired with Joxer in tow to a dark room lit only by a blazing fire contained within a stone fireplace. As the room had no furniture in sight, Ares motioned for Joxer to sit on a fur rug near the fire. The moment Joxer had settled himself onto the soft material, Ares held out a large pewter goblet, which Joxer took. With a sniff, he recognized the scent of the wine and proceeded to down half the goblet at once.

"Careful with that," Ares said as he lowered himself onto the rug next to Joxer. "You'll get drunk faster that way."

"That's the plan." Joxer downed the rest of the glass.

"It doesn't do any good. All it does is make it harder to forget."

Joxer held out his empty glass and watched as Ares reached for a bottle of wine to refill it. A part of his mind thought of how strange it was that Ares didn't simply materialize a bottle for them or refill the goblet with his powers, but the thought left his mind as the goblet was filled and the taste of the wine became his sole focus.

For a long time, neither of them spoke. Both pairs of eyes simply stared into the flickering fire, turning away only to refill a goblet of wine. Finally, Joxer's voice pierced the silence.

"She used to pull my nose all the time. At first, I used to tell myself that I only let her do it because she was a girl, and real warriors didn't hit girls. Eventually, I realized that I let her do it because it was usually the only time she ever touched me, or paid me any attention. I even came to believe that every nose pinch really meant that she loved me, but was too afraid to say it."

"The first time I saw her, she was glorious," Ares intoned. "She was all fire and muscle. I could tell that every man on that battlefield couldn't decide whether to fight her or fuck her. I've done both, and there's little difference between the two. Either way, I'd have died happy."

"Once, Xena tried to teach me to fight," Joxer began as he lowered himself further onto the rug, head propped up with his hand. "After I broke two swords, a shield, shot an arrow through a bag of Gabby's scrolls, and almost tripped Argo with a staff, Xena smiles at me, puts her arm over my shoulders, and says to me: 'Joxer, I think you're our new secret weapon. The next time we come up on a warlord, I'm sending you to join his army.'"

An unexpected laugh burst forth from Ares' lips. The God lowered himself onto his back before he spoke again. "For some reason that reminds me of the time with the scroll -- you know the one I'm thinking of. You had taken off somewhere, and I was arguing with Gabrielle over whether she should write into the scroll that I got my powers back. Well, I guess I was a little too adamant because all of a sudden, she says: 'Ares, either get out of my face now, or I'll write you having sex with..."

After a few moments had passed and the sentence remained unfinished, Joxer cocked an eyebrow at a flustered Ares. "With who?"

"Umm, nobody you know," Ares lied as he brought a bottle to his lips, finishing off the last of the wine it held to avoid meeting Joxer's eyes.

Joxer reached out for his goblet to find it empty. "Hey, Arry," he slurred, "pass me another bottle, will ya?" As Ares searched for another bottle of wine, Joxer briefly wondered how many bottles they'd had already. After a moment, the sobriety passed and he welcomed the bottle that was passed to him. The sweet liquor was welcome at first as it passed over his tongue, yet as it settled in his stomach, it brought with it a wave of memories that he couldn't hold back. His tears came unbidden, and he rolled onto his stomach, cushioning his face with his arm.

The alien sensation of a hand on his shoulder distracted him from the pain of his tears' release, and he looked up into a pair of eyes as pained as his own. In a movement that lacked any sense of self-preservation, he reached out to wrap an arm around Ares' waist, pulling himself up against the hard body and crying into the God's vest. Had he not been so overwhelmed with emotion, he would have been amazed that the hand on his shoulder quickly moved to comfortingly rub his back.

Joxer had been living in denial for so long that the pain now washed over him in waves, leaving him yearning for the comfort of a touch, an embrace, any contact with another being. He pulled his tear-stained face away from the black leather, looked up into a pair of understanding eyes, and stretched out his neck until his lips could touch Ares'. The spark of their lips touching broke through the pain, giving him something to cling to in the darkness of his jumbled emotions. His hands slid up to grab the back of Ares' head, holding it close as his lips moved to devour those of the God.

Ares' response was far from what Joxer would have expected. Rather than pulling away in disgust, or even pouncing on Joxer with a growl, Ares' hands rested on his back, rubbing circles, and allowing Joxer to take the lead. Instead, it was Joxer who growled as he pushed Ares onto the rug, covering the muscled body with his own. His hands savagely pulled the leather vest apart, moving his mouth to bite his way along the exposed skin of Ares' chest.

Ares' hisses reached his ears as Joxer's tongue traced along the red marks his teeth had left. His fingers moved along the God's stomach, finally reaching the edge of the black leather pants and immediately setting to pulling apart the fastenings. His mouth left Ares' body as he moved to pull the leather from the long, muscular legs.

For one moment, he stopped and looked up, meeting Ares' eyes in a silent question. Without a single word, Joxer read in Ares every need he felt within himself. In moments, he had rid himself of his own clothing and had moved back over Ares' legs.

Joxer ran his fingers over the hard cock that stood before him, encircling the base as he took it into his mouth. He sucked hard, pumping furiously as one of his hands trailed up Ares' stomach and chest. All of a sudden, he felt his hand enveloped, and opening his eyes, saw his hand wrapped in the God's larger one. He flickered his tongue against the soft skin in his mouth and felt the hand tightening around his own. He could feel the tension increasing in the body beneath him, and soon he stopped.

He moved back up to take Ares' lips in a wild kiss, pulling away to look hesitatingly into the dark eyes.

"Go ahead," Ares whispered hungrily into Joxer's ear. "Fuck me."

Joxer kissed Ares again as his hands reached down to move the God's legs over his shoulders. He wrapped a hand around his own cock, stroking it once or twice before placing it at the entrance to Ares' body, and without a thought, he pushed inside.

Both men gasped, and neither moved as the sensations overtook them. Soon, Joxer began to move, thrusting in and out of the willing body. His mind was blank save for the feeling of his cock wrapped in hot skin as his movements grew more and more frenzied. He felt his own peak approaching, as well as a fluttering against his stomach and looked down to see Ares' hand stroking his cock in time to Joxer's thrusts. The sight alone was almost enough to take him over the edge, and with a few more thrusts, he felt himself release into Ares.

Joxer collapsed on top of Ares, his face resting against the rough skin of his lover's neck. Unbidden, tears started to form in his eyes. He wrapped his arms around a tensing Ares' waist as the movement against his stomach halted, followed by a wet and sticky sensation. He felt two arms reach around him to hold him close as his tears once again fell.

Sleep started to claim him, but just before it did, he was aware of a salty wetness against his cheek, running down to his lips where he licked it away. He lifted his face and kissed away the trail of a single tear from the toughest of Gods, then rested his head again to fall asleep.

* * *

A terrible pain brought Joxer into wakefulness. When he tried to open his eyes, daggers pierced their centers. His body ached, comforted only by the soft mattress beneath him. Once his eyes were finally able to focus, he took a look around himself to get his bearings. He was lying on his back in a very large bed. Light filtered through dark curtains that covered the windows on one wall. He squinted, trying to figure out how he came to lie in the bed, for the last he remembered, he'd been on the floor by a fireplace with...

A shifting on the mattress next to him drew his eyes. He looked over at the still-sleeping form of last night's lover. He simply gazed at the tan body, momentarily indulging in fuzzy memories of the night before. Although the details were uncertain, he remembered what had happened, with whom, and why. A part of him felt he should feel more alive with the affirmation of life, while another part said he should feel dead with the confirmation of his friends' demise.

He didn't know what to think, what to feel. He ran a hand over his face to rid the sleep from his eyes, then slowly rose from the mattress. Every ache in his body told him to stop, but he didn't listen. After several long moments, he'd finally risen onto his feet and began looking around the room for his clothing.

"What are you doing?" a gruff voice called out.

"It's morning," he replied, turning to his companion.

"I can see that," the voice continued, still awaiting an answer.

"As I told you yesterday, it's morning and time for me to move on. Where are my clothes?"

The dark figure slowly rose from the bed, reaching out to a nearby chair for a couple of pieces of silk. He threw one of the robes to Joxer, drawing his arms through the other and tying it at his waist. "They're in the room I brought you to yesterday, where you changed." Joxer nodded and started off toward the bedroom door, but stopped at the sound of Ares' voice. "You don't have to go, you know."

"Yes I do," Joxer replied. "I still have to find them."

Joxer hurried out of the room to the sound of Ares' sigh behind him. He found the room where his clothes had been kept and quickly changed into them. Fully clothed, he left the temple for the stable to start saddling Argo. Unsurprisingly, Ares followed him in, having changed into his regular black leather.

"You're too stubborn for your own good, you know that, mortal."

"Yeah, I do," Joxer answered as he tightened up the final buckle on Argo's saddle. Finally, he turned to face Ares, holding out his arm. "Thank you, for everything."

Ares took Joxer's arm, their eyes meeting several moments as they bid each other farewell. "Take care of yourself, Joxer."

Joxer reluctantly let go of the arm and turned to mount Argo. He lightly smiled down at Ares from his perch. "I always do. Good luck avoiding your family. I hope you have better luck than I did avoiding mine."

Joxer watched Ares nod, then shook the reigns in his hands. Argo immediately broke into a gallop down the road. He chanced a look back once to see Ares watching him ride off, then looked back to the road, wondering if he'd ever see Ares, or his friends, again.

* * *

Many months later, a darkly tanned finger traced along a tiny cheekbone. Two dark eyes gazed lovingly upon the tiny form that lied in the crib before them. The infant's even breathing set the man at ease momentarily, and he finally pulled himself away, almost falling into a rocking chair nearby.

He felt so weak. Not only was he a God without a domain, whose vengeful family came closer and closer with every waking moment, but his form had yet to recover from the drastic changes it had undergone in the last few months.

He hadn't really considered what had happened to him to be a possibility. Certainly, it had happened to both his father and his brother, but he'd always thought himself immune from such things.

When he'd first started feeling weak and craving ambrosia, he'd thought it was simply a product of his prolonged absence from the Olympian House of War. When he'd started gaining weight, he'd thought he'd simply eaten too much ambrosia. When he'd started breaking down into emotional heaps, he'd thought he'd simply descended into the depression that invaded most of his waking thoughts since the day his Warrior Princess had committed suicide before his very eyes. He'd finally given in to his worries and had gathered enough power to examine his earthly form, only to find it was none of the above.

He was pregnant.

He'd forgotten the possibility had existed the night he'd given himself over to a fellow man in mourning. He'd never before allowed himself to be taken, yet that night it was the only way he could regain some measure of sanity after all he had suffered.

And as a result, he was with child.

It had been the longest struggle of his life. He experienced things he'd only ever heard about and wondered if he'd ever make it through. All doubts, however, had evaporated the day he was lying in a temple, trying to rest, and felt the tiny being in his abdomen kick out. From that day on, any suffering had been tempered with awe at the life within him.

He had feared the impending birth for the pain it would bring, as well as his lack of knowledge of such peculiar births. However, he'd had little to fear, for as his father's son, his form was imprinted with the knowledge of how to birth a child.

And one day, after many hours of painful effort, he'd held his son in his arms for the first time.

He now looked through the bars of the crib at the infant within and a smile lit his face. He had loved all of the children his lovers had borne him, yet when he looked upon his son, the knowledge that this child had come from within himself enriched him.

He leaned back in the chair, his face twisting in pain. He could feel another of his old temples near the Greek border being destroyed by his rampaging family. They were getting closer, and he feared he would not be able to protect his child. Thus far, they had no knowledge of the boy, but the closer they came, the sooner that would change. He loved the boy with all his soul, despite his being born a demi-God and his having inherited his 'father's' nose.

Ares knew what had to be done for the child to be safe, yet he was reluctant to take action. He wanted to keep his son by his side forever, yet if he did so, they would both perish at the Olympians' hands. He needed to rebuild his power source in another part of the world -- Rome, perhaps -- and to do so, he needed to let go of his son, at least for a time.

His eyes closed tightly. He didn't want to say goodbye to the only true family he had left, yet their survival, or at least the child's survival, was paramount. There was only one person Ares trusted to keep the child safe, and that was the boy's 'father'.

For the first time in months, he gathered some power and pushed out his senses, searching for the man who'd shared his bed. His mind stopped at a great wall of pain and anguish and his eyes flew open. Something was wrong, and he had to see what it was. If the man was in trouble, then Ares couldn't leave the child with him.

With a final look at the crib to make certain the infant was still asleep, Ares flashed himself next to his one-time lover.

He looked around himself, confused that he was the only person on a lone dirt road. He heard a sob behind him and turned. His eyes took in the body splayed over the ground near a mound of dirt, a rounded piece of metal clutched in one hand. The body shook as an empty hand reached out blindly for a heavy leather object that topped the mound.

Ares didn't need to be told what had occurred to leave the man destroyed as he was and his heart wept with the man on the ground. He stepped over to the body, bent down, and laid a hand on a shaking shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Joxer."

The man let out a sob, unsurprised at the intrusion. "I can't believe she's gone. Th-they're all gone now."

Ares leaned over to pry Joxer's hand away from the horseless saddle. He sat on the grass next to the mound and pulled the man's body into his lap, allowing the tears to fall onto his skin and ignoring the pain of where the man gripped him with the hand that still held fast to a single horseshoe.

Within moments, the man had cried himself to sleep and Ares was able to gather enough power to flash them back to the temple where their son waited for them.

Hours later, Ares sat on the edge of a large bed, watching Joxer return to the land of the living. He brushed some stray strands of dark hair from the pale forehead, peering down at the confused face.

"Welcome back, Joxer."

"Ares, where am I? What am I doing here?"

"You were upset, so I brought you back to my temple. Are you feeling better now?" Joxer nodded. "Good. Are you hungry?" Joxer nodded again. Ares rose and walked into another room, returning moments later with a tray of bread, meat and cheese. He rested the tray on the edge of the bed, watching quietly as Joxer picked through the food, finally finding a piece to his liking and eating it greedily.

Ares was about to ask Joxer a question about Argo's death when he was interrupted by a loud cry from the next room. He ignored the questioning eyes of his companion as he rushed away to his son. He lifted the child from his crib and fetched a bottle of milk from a nearby table. He smiled as the boy drank his meal hungrily and continued to feed the child as he walked back into the other room.

Ares forced back a laugh as Joxer paused mid-bite upon seeing Ares with the child in his arms. The piece of bread was slowly lowered to the tray as wide eyes stared at the pair.

"Ares, is-is that yours?"

Ares nodded, moving to sit on the edge of the bed so that Joxer and the child could easily see each other. A pair of tiny brown eyes stared curiously at the funny looking man. Ares watched as Joxer reached out a finger to rub along the soft skin of a tiny hand.

"He's cute. He's got your eyes." Ares smiled. "Who's his mother?"

The God sighed. "I'm his mother."

Joxer's face scrunched up in confusion. "But you're a man?"

"I'm also a God. My father did it, Apollo did it, and now I have."

"Oh." Joxer shrugged and made a funny face at the child. "So, who's the father?" Ares gave Joxer a pointed look that froze him in place. "Umm, y-y-y-you aren't thinking that, um, I, I mean, no way." Joxer quickly rose from the mattress and paced along the floor. "This is impossible. This isn't happening." He paused a moment and met Ares' eyes. "You aren't serious, are you?"

"I'm very serious, Joxer. My son is your son, and there's nothing either of us can do about it."

Joxer's shoulders slumped in defeat, his eyes turning back to the child that had just finished its bottle and was being lifted onto a shoulder to be burped. He slowly made his way to Ares' side, dropping down onto one knee and placing a hand on the baby's back. Once the child was free of gas, Ares held him out to Joxer, who nervously cradled the infant in his arms. Joxer looked down at the child that gazed up at him with such trust, and Ares knew the worst was over.

"Joxer, we need your help."

Joxer glanced up at Ares a moment before returning his eyes to the child in his arms. "Yes, Ares?"

"My family's getting close to finding me, and I'm too weak to defend us against them. They don't know about him. I want you to take him and keep him safe."

Joxer's head snapped up. "What? But, I don't know how to take care of a baby all by myself. I..."

"You're the only one I trust, Joxer. Your son needs you."

Joxer's tear-filled eyes rested once again on his son as his hand brushed along the soft strands of light brown hair on the baby's head. Finally, he nodded and Ares released a breath he hadn't known he was holding.

"Thank you. When you're ready, I'll take the two of you wherever you want to go."

"There's a town about half a day's travel from Corinth. I have a friend there who I think will help me. She's always wanted a child to care for. What about you?"

Joxer's eyes lifted to meet Ares'. "I have to stay away, for both your sakes. I can't allow anything to happen to my son, even if it means never seeing him again."

Joxer offered the child to Ares, who immediately swooped him up into his arms, holding him tightly to his chest. He murmured a few words of love and farewell before loosening his hold on the child, turning once again to Joxer.

"Are you ready?" Ares asked, knowing that if he waited any longer, he wouldn't be able to let go of his son.

"Yes," Joxer replied, his eyes sympathizing with the pain he knew Ares was feeling.

Gathering what little power he had left, Ares flashed them to the edge of the town about which Joxer had spoken. He pressed his lips against the child's tiny forehead one last time before handing him over to his father. He took a step back and closed his eyes tightly, forcing the tears from his eyes.

"Goodbye," he said, but was stopped from leaving by Joxer's voice.

"Wait! What's his name?"

Ares smiled a small smile and shrugged. "I couldn't decide. You helped to give him life; you can give him his name."

Both men's eyes met one last time, exchanging silent words before Ares transferred himself back to his temple and away from his son.

* * *

Many years later, a dark figure stood in the shadows as he peered into the main room of a large cottage. He watched as a young man lifted objects from tables and shelves, placing them into a wooden box he carried at his side.

The boy turned to the mantle over a fireplace and began removing items from the cool stone. His fingers brushed against a poorly-constructed wooden figurine that vaguely resembled a horse. He almost dropped the box he held as his face twisted in grief. He set the box on the floor and reached up for the figurine, holding it close to his heart as a torrent of tears fell from his eyes.

"Why?" the anguished voice croaked. "Why did you have to be the hero, Dad?"

The man in the shadows could keep his distance no longer. He silently made his way to the young man's side, placing a gentle hand on a shuddering shoulder. The boy, however, jumped at the touch, turning and glaring at the one who'd intruded upon his private moment.

"Ares! You!" The boy pulled out his long sword and pointed it to the God's chest. "What do you want?"

Ares laid his hand on the sword's blade and lowered it. "I've come to talk."

"I have nothing to say to you," the boy said, turning away and stalking toward another room.

"Well I have a lot to say to you."

"Tell it to someone who cares," the boy said over his shoulder.

Ares sighed and took a steadying breath before responding. "I didn't know it would be Joxer!"

After several moments, the young man returned to turn a suspicious glare on Ares.

"I knew people would die, but I didn't know it would be your father. If I'd known, I would have done something to stop it."

"Why?" the young man asked incredulously. "What do you care about my family?"

"Joxer was special to me, Virgil, and so are you."

The young man's hand dropped his sword to cover his face, burying a sob as his tears once again flowed freely. After several moments, he was finally calm enough to speak. "Fuck you. Fuck you and everyone else!"

As the youth continued sputtering, Ares crossed the floor in three strides and pulled the mildly struggling Virgil into his arms. The struggle ceased and the tear-stained face fell to Ares' vest, sobbing into the black leather much as his father had done many years before.

"I never wanted you to suffer like this," the God murmured against the light-coloured hair.

"Dad was right," a small voice finally whispered after several long minutes of sobbing.

"About what?" Ares asked, never letting go of the young man in his arms.

"When I was growing up with my brothers and sisters, he would read us all these scrolls that Gabrielle had written. You were in a lot of them, and we all thought you were one of the meanest men in Greece. But whenever we'd start talking about it, Dad would stop us. He'd tell us that even someone who does bad things sometimes can have some good in them, that they can still be kind and compassionate, and that they still have feelings the same as we do. I always got the feeling he was trying to get me to remember more than anyone else. I guess because he hoped I would help him remind my brothers and sisters."

Ares ran a comforting hand along Virgil's hair, pleased that his image wasn't completely tainted in the young man's eyes. "What are you holding in your hand?"

"Oh, it's just something I made for Dad when I was young. When I touched it, I remembered how happy he was when I gave it to him. I..." Virgil paused as his voice broke. "I miss him," he whispered into Ares' vest.

"So do I," Ares replied. *I've missed you both.*

Ares felt the body in his arms grow lax. One look into Virgil's face told him the boy was mostly asleep. He shifted Virgil in his arms and picked him up, carrying him out of the room and further into the house. He looked into every room until he found one with an adult-sized bed covered with half-written scrolls. Glancing at one of the scrolls, he saw the signature at the bottom and knew he'd found Virgil's room. With a thought, he moved the objects to another corner of the room, then placed the boy in his arms onto the bed.

Ares stepped back and watched as Virgil curled up onto his side, pulling a pillow down to his chest and holding it tightly. He bent over to brush away a lock of hair that had fallen over the boy's eyes.

He had so many things to tell this young man, but this wasn't the time. Once the pain of Joxer's death was no longer fresh and the boy's grief had diminished, then Ares would tell him the truth about his relationship with Joxer and the boy's own origins.

"Goodnight, my son," Ares wished as he pressed his lips against the sleeping boy's forehead moments before returning to his temple in Rome.

The End

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