DISCLAIMER: All the characters mentioned in this story belong to MCA/Universal and Renaissance pictures. They are making me absolutely no money at all, this is just ABSOLUTELY for the fun of it, and as I am only borrowing them, I will return them, quite safe and sound once this little tale is concluded!

BE WARNED! This story has scenes of quite strong adult content, including ill-treatment, strong language, and consensual and non-consensual m/f sex.

NIGHTMARE  

BY MAGGIE

Chapter One

The room was black stone, and what little light came in through the window up near the ceiling, was dim and only served to torment his eyes with shadows, which flickered with movement at the corners of his eyes. Only a moment ago, he could have sworn there was someone in the room with him, hidden in the darkness in the corner of the room; a human shape more black than the walls, who slithered out of his sight when he turned to look at it.

There was a sound too; a high, thin wailing, sounding like an old man in pain, somewhere, and it tore at his heart, raised spectres of an age-old guilt, formed years before this, at a time that Iolaus thought he had forgotten. No, not forgotten; buried. Buried deep where no-one would find it, not even himself. Somehow though, whoever was making that sound seemed to have found the memories, read them like a book and given them life again.

Iolaus shuddered at the sound, the niggling guilt he had walked away with from that time, beginning to stir around inside him, upsetting the balance he had managed to finally find with his friendship and partnership with Hercules. Trying to push the feelings down and reaching for the mind-calming techniques he had learned in the East, he found he could acheive neither; there was too much adrenaline pumping through his system and he couldn't find a way to ease the nervous restlessness that it caused in him. A moan of frustration slipped away from him before he could catch and still it, and he found himself running his hands obsessively through his hair, almost needing the sensation of his fingertips against his scalp to remind himself that he was still there, physically, and not becoming some phantom of the night himself.

It had to be something they had put into the food or water they had given him; if he'd been thinking more clearly he would have been wary of just such a move, but he had been so hungry and thirsty at that point, having gone for four days without either, that he had devoured the thin cake and cup of water they had finally given him, before he had had time to think. He didn't remember much of anything after that, so it seemed likely that whatever drug they had given him had also put him to sleep as well as stirring up his nerves.

The darkness was closing in now, and Iolaus dreaded the moment when the sun would be gone and he would be left alone with the inky blackness of night. Darker, darker ...

Too quickly ... and too soon! His blood freezing to ice, Iolaus realised with dread that it was his sight that was failing, not the day that was coming to a close. Everything was blurring to vague shapes of dark and light, and then fading to black, and hurriedly passing a hand before his face, he was suddenly gasping for air, as if his departing sight had taken his breath with it.

He couldn't see anything, not anything at all. Running his hands over his face he found nothing amiss, and realised that whatever drug it was that was now coursing through his system, working its evil, was more powerful than he could have imagined. He blinked repeatedly trying to force his sight to return, hoping that somehow he was dreaming and that he would wake up at any moment and find everything as it should be. Nothing happened. He was still in the black cell, and he was still blind and there was no hope ...

There was another pit, apart from the one in which he was physically held captive; a pit from the past, which had been waiting for him, in that dark place where he had buried the guilt which had hold of him now. He was in that pit now, and try as he might to think of something, anything, anyone else, all he could see was Chloe, lifeless and cold, in the arms of her grandfather, who, with tears streaming from his rheumy old eyes, was flinging curse upon curse on Iolaus' head, as he ran from the old man's house, tortured by the weight of grief and guilt which was already devouring him like a beggar at a feast.

He had run until his legs collapsed under him and his lungs and throat were burning, and then he had curled up under a grove of trees, his body writhing helplessly as he tried vainly to escape the knowledge of what had happened because of him.

That knowledge returned to him now and he cried out at the horror of it, forgotten until now, and clapped his hands over his ears as the thin wail he could still hear just seemed to get louder until it was inside his head. The assault on his mind was unbearable and he cried out himself, yelling louder and louder to try to drown out the sound, but his words just turned into the old man's curses in his ears, and finally, driven past sense, Iolaus, crouched in a corner now like a terrified child, flung his head back against the stones repeatedly, hoping to knock himself unconscious.

He was not allowed that relief. Guards, obviously keeping a constant watch from some hidden portal, saw what he was doing, and, prepared for such behaviour, entered the cell and removed him forcibly to the centre of the room and, standing him up and spreading his arms high and wide, chained him in this position with manacles attached to opposite walls for just such a purpose.

Iolaus kicked and yelled at them, but without his sight and in the grip of the effects of the drug, wasn't able to put up enough resistance to inconvenience them too much. Once chained, the guards left him; all except one who lifted his head and poured more water down his throat, choking him, as Iolaus fought not to swallow the stuff, knowing it was tainted with more of the drug. Unfortunately he took down enough of the stuff for it to enforce the effect; the old man's curses dripped the venom of snakes into his heart, turning it into a writhing nest of pain, so bad that he could barely catch his breath, and all he could see was the broken, lifelessness of the girl who had died, her body so close that he could smell the blood that was leaking away from her wounds. It was a scent so strong and cloying that it made him sick and he heaved up whatever of the meal was left in his stomache; his throat burned, and even when his stomache was empty, he couldn't stop the spasming and dry-heaved until he could barely breath.

All he really knew of this was the pain and the discomfort; his mind was still preoccupied with the vision - the sight, sound, smell and taste of the torturous memories. He was helpless against them, and once again, frustration gained the upper hand, and he screamed to every god he could think of to please, makeitstop,makeitstop,makeitstop,makeitstop!!!......

The two friends stood on the hilltop watching the sun sink into the ocean, both of them thinking other thoughts than beauty, neither of them uttering a word. Finally Gabrielle turned to Xena, unable to say goodbye, a foreboding in her heart making her unsure of the future, but not knowing whether its portents spoke of Xena or the victim in her nightmares.

"I have to know if he's alright, Xena; I'm sorry to leave you like this, but I have got to know."

Xena reached out and clasped her shoulders, drawing her closer to look into her eyes, needing to see what it was that Gabrielle had seen that was closed to her. She shook her head; that faraway concern still held a mystery that was barred to her. Once more regret reared its ugly head and once more Xena, spurred by its cruel barbs, was stung into entreaty.

"I wish you'd let me come with you; Iolaus is my friend, too, you know."

Grasping her war staff more firmly, the blonde turned an uncompromising stare on her companion. "And what will happen to the inhabitants of that village when Hamon's men come again? There are only women and children left as it is, not that that has ever stopped him. They'll be next, you know that."

Xena bowed her head, a silent acknowledgement of the truth of Gabrielle's words.

"You know I'm right," Gabrielle continued. Xena nodded her head and when she looked up, Gabrielle could see that the Warrior Princess had accepted the situation, albeit reluctantly.

"Go on then, Gabrielle; do what you have to do. But don't forget what I said; if there is trouble and Hercules isn't there, find him. I don't want you tackling this on your own. If these dreams are real, then you could get yourself killed and then I would never forgive myself ... or you!!" and with that Xena pulled Gabrielle into a rough embrace and hugged her fiercely. Gabrielle let herself absorb the other woman's warmth and love for her, for a moment, and then, steeling herself against whatever lay ahead, pulled back and nodding an acknowledgement of every warning, and a goodbye, turned and started off back down the hill heading for the woodland beyond.

The regret which still filled Xena's heart tugged at her memories now, and try as she might, she could not keep the images from invading her mind; bitter sweet images which would haunt her until she died. Oh, she knew that Iolaus had forgiven her long ago, for using him against Hercules, and she had tried hard to forgive herself, but every time she met up with the blond hunter, with Hercules or without him, she was reminded again of how much she had hurt him. Betrayal, not once but twice, the second time being worse than the first. When she had used him to lure Hercules into a trap, she had been so wrapped up in hate that she could no longer see anyone or anything else other than her own needs. However when she had made love with Hercules ...

'Gods, can I never forget!?' she pushed the anger at the images of Iolaus, but it did no good; they just slid away and then returned, untouched. The searing passion of his aloneness, reaching out to be healed by the vulnerability she presented him so calculatingly. The whispered words which gave taste and substance to the emptiness inside him, and yes, she had listened and yes, she had given succour, both with her body and with her words, but her eyes she had always carefully veiled or covered with passionate intent to hide the icy emptiness of her own heart. She wasn't even sure any longer whether she had felt anything then; whether he had moved her and she had ignored it, or whether she had been so far gone into darkness that nothing of him had reached her at all.

Well, something had reached Gabrielle; little wonder. Xena could see Iolaus much more clearly now than she had back then, and she knew the heart of the hunter was little different from the heart of her own true salvation, Gabrielle. Little wonder they had been drawn to each other. Little wonder that Gabrielle should know, somehow, that Iolaus was in trouble. Little wonder that Xena should be denied such knowledge, forever ...

Wearily she brushed the hitherto unnoticed tears from her cheeks and, with a heavy sigh, took a better hold of Argo's reins and began slowly to walk down the hill in the opposite direction; reluctantly away from her conscience and her heart.

She had no idea of where she was going bar a direction and a knowledge of what towns lay in that direction; all she knew was that she could no more not do what she was doing now, than fly to the moon. The siren's call only her heart could hear was pulling her forward to a place, and she knew only that she would know it when she found it. As she hurried on, her thoughts waged a vain war with themselves, as to whether she should have told Xena about all the other dreams that she had had; dreams which, when she had had the chance, she had been able, at least for herself, to confirm the veracity of, in Iolaus' stories of what had been happening to him and Hercules since they had last seen each other. Sometimes even just the reply to a carefully off-hand remark or question from her. She didn't have to wonder whether these nightmares she had been having recently, were true or not; they were like the others in that she had awakened from them remembering every action, every word, so clearly were they burned into her. Almost more real than reality itself.

Stopping to catch her breath, Gabrielle dropped her pack and looked around to get her bearings. There was a walled town about five miles away on the other side of the valley; she couldn't remember ever visiting it before, certainly didn't know the name of it, but one thing she suddenly did know for sure; after two days of hard travel, she was close to her goal. A smokey, woody scent that she associated only with Iolaus seemed to assail her nostrils, and it thrust tendrils of anxiety deep into her, spurring her into a run. He was hurting, he was in pain and darkness and it was unending and he could not escape it and it was driving him insane ...

Dashing almost unnoticed tears from her face, Gabrielle ran on, abandoning her pack in a small cleft in the hillside that she might not be held up by its encumbrance, and whispered words which she prayed might somehow reach him and bring him comfort however small.

"I'm coming Iolaus; hold on, you're not alone anymore, I'm coming to help you! Please hold on, just hold on ..."

Chapter Two

The guards began to wonder if their master's latest acquisition was already dead, so quiet it had become. One of them finally raised himself up grunting from where he was slouched over a bottle and peered into the cell. What he saw there took him somewhat aback; most of the prisoners who received this treatment were in a state somewhat akin to catatonia, or dead by this stage, but this man ...

The guard shook his head and poked at his ears, wondering if he'd gone deaf. Iolaus was still screaming; there was just no sound. 'Hollered hisself hoarse', he thought distractedly. He couldn't tear his eyes away for a moment; and just for that moment something like abject pity rose up in him as he witnessed the silent agony of the man hanging, still writhing vaguely, in the chains. 'Poor sod ...'

"Hey, Grakus! What's he doin'? Is he fit for the dogs yet? They must be kinda hungry since that skinny wench two days ago!!"

Grakus turned to look at the other man who had spoken; a pot-bellied roman who had been abandoned by his countrymen for being too cruel and indulgent for even their tastes. He had finally found employment here with Hamon where his tastes were appreciated. Grakus didn't like him for that very reason. He himself prided himself that he felt nothing for anyone, and had not done since he was eight years old. What had caused this lack of feeling in him was not something he could remember; it was a memory that was locked away in a box so tightly that it could not be undone, was buried so deep that it would never be found. Nevertheless, something about this prisoner had touched something in him; there was a disturbing queasiness in his belly, which he did not like. He turned back to the cell, but then decided that it was somewhere he didn't want to go again, and he sat back down with his bottle, taking a deep drink from it, hoping to get drunk enough to sleep again tonight.

"No, he ain't dead," he threw back at the roman, "Looks like he's unconscious to me."

"He ain't goin' to the dogs," said one of the others, playing cards with another guard. "Hamon wants him as a body slave, that's what I heard."

The roman chuckled and Grakus just shrugged; he was too busy crawling into his third bottle for the night. He couldn't afford to care what happened to the prisoners, not if he wanted to keep his skin ... literally. Not if he didn't want to go mad himself.

The voice was niggling away in the back of her mind; 'get Hercules. If he's not there, find him. Find Hercules ...'

But there wasn't time, there simply wasn't time. If the street seller was right, Iolaus had already been in the hands of that animal for five days now; he might already be dead. The only regret she had was that she hadn't let Xena come along. If only she had known that the man who held Iolaus prisoner was the same one who was organising the raids on the villages ...

Too late to think about that now. Somehow she had to find a way to get Iolaus out of there and then hide him somewhere safe. Maybe then she could go find Hercules to help.

It was nearly dark already and she still hadn't found a way to get into the castle. She was holed up in an alley across from the only egress she had found in the huge stone building; from the smells coming from it, it had to lead to the kitchens. If only she could get in there, find her way down to the dungeons, and then ...

And then what? Do a hooly-hooly-whirly like Xena and knock all the guards out at one fell stroke? Hoo, yeah, that was likely ...

'I've just got to use my head instead of my impatience,' she told herself. 'Now that I can do. Something I might find in a kitchen ...'; but she couldn't immediately think of anything, and anyway she had to get in there in the first place. Then her passport to the chamber of horrors stepped out the door. It was a ragged slip of a girl who was dumping some food waste outside. She stood, one hand languidly on her hip and gazed down the back street as if she was looking for someone. With her long hair covering half her face, Gabrielle took the chance that she wouldn't see her sneak round and up behind her, so quietly she moved out of the shadows and as smoothly and silently as she could, she cut a curve of a path across the street to the wall of the castle, and then edged up behind the girl and applied pressure to the nerve clusters at the base of the girl's skull to knock her unconscious. Draping the girl's arm around her shoulders she half dragged her back into the shadows of the alley and into a vacant cell of a dwelling which she had checked earlier for inhabitants. It was empty and had been hurriedly left as if the family had all been struck down by some plague or dragged off by Hamon's guards for whatever reason.

'Or no reason at all,' Gabrielle mused glumly, considering it a likely possibility. How could people still live here, in the very shadow of one of the cruelest men alive? 'Because they have nowhere else to go,' the voice of her own practical nature told her. A voice that was growing slowly more cynical by the day as she travelled with Xena now. This bothered her deeply, but she recognised that it was part of the price she had to pay to stay as Xena's friend and travelling companion.

Tearing strips from the jerkin she wore, Gabrielle bound the girl's hands behind her back and then gagged her. "I'm really sorry about this," she told the sleeping girl, "but I'm afraid I'm going to need your clothes and you out of the way for awhile, while I go and try and rescue my friend."

Once the girl was secured, Gabrielle hurriedly removed the girl's outer garments and shrugged into them. Pulling at her hair until it came loose, she reluctantly went outside and, keeping her nose as far away from her hands as possible, plunged them into the waste that the girl had thrown out and quickly dragged them through her hair, until she was sure that she would pass muster as the less-hygenic kitchen girl. The only problem now was that she wouldn't be able to take her staff into the castle with her; it was too big to hide and she could think of no reasonable excuse for having it. She mustn't draw suspicion to herself, or she wouldn't have enough time to do what she had to do. Taking a deep breath and focussing her attention on appearing as sloppy and unconcerned as the girl had, Gabrielle left the house and walked, or rather slouched, in through the door to the kitchens.

She was lucky. The door emerged straight into the kitchen and although there was a guard at the inner door, the place was dark enough to hide any differences which might be immediately noticeable. She nearly froze in shock when a small, mean-fingered woman grabbed hold of her arm.

"Here girl, take this ale down to the guards; seems they're drinking heavy tonight. Hamon won't like it ..." This last she seemed to direct to the guard at the door, but the man just shrugged and then looked at Gabrielle.

Oh gods, please don't let him notice anything, please don't let him see, her fear whispered to her, but, knowing it was too late to back out now, even if she'd really wanted to, she took her courage in both hands, as she had always done, and decided to give him some lip. "What you staring at?" she spat out sullenly.

The guard just laughed and grabbed her by the arm. "C'mon, I've got men waiting for this downstairs, and anything else they can think of ..." he leered at her. Suddenly and with a chill in her heart, she knew what she had to do. Clearly the guard didn't just take the jug down himself because she was part of the 'provisions'. At the same time as she had to swallow back an almost choking fear and revulsion, her heart leaped; this would get her where she needed to be and it might also give her the chance she needed to free Iolaus.

All the way down her shivering fear and pride screamed at her to run, but she couldn't; she couldn't leave Iolaus to the madman, Hamon, and, after all, how hard could it be? Xena had always tried to drum into her, fighting was as much a state of mind, of attitude. If it applied to fighting, it could apply to this too ... couldn't it? 'I just hope none of them have got anything ... I hope I don't catch ... I hope none of them have got bad breath...'

Some hopes of that, the little voice told her. These are rough men who don't even know the meaning of dental hygiene, let alone practice any. 'Oh, shut up!' she told the voice, but soon had no more time to debate the pros and cons of what she was about to do. She and the guard had descended to the lower levels of the castle, and she could hear raucous voices ahead of her.

Showtime.

Chapter Three

Oblivion had claimed him at last. The drug seemed to have run its course through his system, and the visions with the accompanying sounds and smells and horrible, never-ending sense of guilt, had finally receded. Sleep had been waiting to pounce for hours and finally, thankfully, it held him in its arms. Unfortunately, dreams of the more normal kind awaited him and he was soon screaming out silently once more, this time in his sleep, and the spasming muscles only made the raw wounds at his wrists, caused by the heavy metal cuffs, bleed more profusely.

All of this meant nothing to Iolaus who was locked into a sequence of events by the workings of his own mind now, independant of the drug, his own subconscious trying to rationalise the girl's death. He came upon the scene a thousand times ...

... the fading screams, the yells of the others, the sight of Dracus pounding into the girl, and she was dying ... she knew she was dying, he heard it in her voice, the terror  ...

Then the red haze covered his sight and he was taking the body back to her grandfather's house, the few villagers who were up so early in the morning soon spreading the word to the others until there were whispers coming from every front door, eyes burning into his back as he walked, weak with grief, exhaustion and guilt, to the house at the end of the village.

The old man who had always held himself with such dignity before, had come running out like a bereft child, his heartbroken cries, only reinforcing Iolaus' overwhelming desire to just leave the body there, turn and run; but he couldn't. Much as his mind screamed at him to abandon the responsibility, his heart held him steady to the cause; the struggle left him wordless and unable to utter the simplest words of explanation. Needless to say, the old man considered his silence to be a confession and demanded punishment, but it wasn't long before the real story came out as, one by one, the other members of Dracus' gang returned home, miserable and sullen, and more than one father pried the truth from a wayward son.

So, Iolaus was cleared of all blame and declared free to leave the village without harm.  For the grandfather though, this was not enough, could never be enough ...

In the miasma of his hellish nightmares even the old man was dying, coughing out the last of his curses with his dying breath ...

Only to become a shade, haunting him every day, tormenting him at night when sleep would not come, and when it did, brought with it only more ways to make him suffer ...

Hanging breathless and broken from the chains in his cell, Iolaus fell slowly into madness; an unending spiral down into an impossible reality which felled his reason, stroke by stroke, with its unbearable horror. In the end though, there was a kind of respite as the visions began to fade into shadowy shapes which played themselves out again and again, meaninglessly, and all sound swirled into a vortex issuing only one call; a lone heartbeat, wild and erratic, which, laughing, he followed with restless feet, not knowing why, nor where it would lead him, and no longer caring ...

It had been as bad as she had feared, but no worse, thank the gods, and now, at least, she had the wherewithal to free Iolaus if only she could think of a way to make the guards leave their stations long enough for her to effect the escape.

After she had 'entertained' one or two of the guards, managing to lift the keys from one man in the process and hide them in her bodice, she had left again with a promise of more wine. She had not returned to the kitchen, hoping that anyone there would assume that she would be in the dungeons for the rest of the night, and was now holed up beneath a stairwell which led to the upper levels.

What would Xena do in these circumstances, Gabrielle wondered. Having pondered the problem for a few minutes, it seemed to her that there were a limited number of options: she could convince someone that the place was under attack, but how, and by whom? Without too much trouble, she rejected that idea as impractical, and went on to the next. She could try to convince the guards that Hamon wanted to see them but ... no that wouldn't cut it, he wouldn't send for all of them.

Sighing in frustration she raised her eyes to the gods as if asking for guidance ... and suddenly came upon the answer to her problem. High up in the far wall, there was a hole in the wall where the mortar had dried out and the stonework had fallen away, through which she could clearly see piles of hay and straw. That could only mean that she was just below the stables; if she could get enough of the straw to start a smokey fire, which would certainly get the guards out of her way quickly enough, she should be able - once she had found Iolaus and freed him - to get the two of them into the stables, take a couple of horses and be well away. The only problem was going to be reaching the hole in the wall in the first place; if only she hadn't left her pack outside the city, there was rope enough in there to scale a wall, but since she didn't have it, she would just have to find something to take the place of it.

The laundry!! She had noticed on her way down to the dungeons that the room next to the kitchen was hung full of dripping sheets! Could she get back up there, grab some sheets and get back down here, without being seen?

Only one way to find out.

So this was Tartarus. How could he have forgotten what he had done to deserve this? His heart twisted painfully as he tried to come to terms with an eternity of torture; he couldn't, he never would. To know that he was dead, when there was still so much he wanted to do, to never see the Sun again, feel the wind on his face and playing with his hair, to breathe in the sweet freshness of it, nor be surrounded by the pounding sting of a waterfall on his skin, to never love again ...

To never see Hercules again ...

Gods, why hadn't he come!!? Was this really it? The final judgment, the last - as those shepherds on that journey 'North' had mentioned - 'amen'? He couldn't accept it. Yet it seemed he had no choice ...

The only days he could see ahead of him, led unerringly, and without compromise, to madness.

Hercules!! HERCULEEEES....!!! Where are you? Iolaus tried to scream the thoughts aloud but could barely get breath past his throat, let alone give voice to his torment. He writhed against the agony beating inside him, beyond recognition of the pain from his bleeding wrists, beyond feeling any external touch now.

But he could still see. His mind's eye, unfocussed from seeing and relaying too much pain, could still register the icy fingers of Shadow, or - oh, for just one taste of it!! - the warmth of the redemption of Light.

So, how was this? It seemed he bathed in the radiance of an angel which had settled near him. Had Hercules come for him at last!? He tried to open his eyes, but it seemed that the pit he was in was so far out of touch with his closed lids that he was powerless to govern them. Buried deep inside his own mind, Iolaus struggled against immovable bonds; in his mind he screamed but his ears heard nothing, and there was pain and weakness and terror that this angel would pass him by if he did nothing to make it stay. If only he could wake ...

There!! There was the heartbeat again, growing louder, growing stronger, and suddenly able to move, though only slowly, he followed it towards the radiance; he reached out ...

Something touched him!! Something ... warm, soft ... human ... There was darkness and then a very blurry light, and he could feel the wetness of tears on his face; his senses sharp enough to trace the light path a single tear was tracing down his neck and across the front of his shoulder ...

And then an explosion of pain, everywhere, and he cried out, and there was more pain, and he heard nothing but a scrape of sound like the drag of something heavy through stonedust. More tears escaped but he didn't care, couldn't care when the pain was like a demon devouring him from the inside out. Vaguely he heard a voice, a woman's voice, anxious and hurried. Chloe ...?

NO!!!! No, Chloe was dead, and it was his fault, all his fault, 'ALL YOUR FAULT, YOUR FAULT, IF YOU HADN'T COME NEAR MY GRAND-DAUGHTER, STOLEN HER AWAY, LEFT HER WITH THOSE FRIENDS OF YOURS, SHE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE, YOU'VE KILLED HER, LOOK WHAT THEY'VE DONE TO HER, HOW DO I KNOW YOU WEREN'T WITH THEM, YOU PROBABLY WERE, YOU RAPIST, MURDERER, YOUR FAULT SHE'S DEAD, YOUR FAULT, YOUR FAULT .........!!!!!!!

The agonised scraping sound again, grotesque in his own ears, and overcome with the shame again, Iolaus, fired up to run from the demon of his own conscience again, somehow scrambled to his feet and began to run blindly, anywhere away from the radiant angel he had still not been able to identify. Run now, before it could discover his sin and expose it with that powerful light.

Unable to see, his foot hit a clump of grass and twisted him to the ground. His head hitting a stone, half buried in the earth, sent him into the merciful darkness of oblivion.

PART TWO

Chapter Four

It was a beautiful, warm night; the kind of night she liked to spend awake, with one or two friends, telling stories, and just revelling in how wonderful it was to be alive. She had never wished harder for just such simple circumstances; the unhealthy sleep which held Iolaus in its relentless grip, was producing fevered dreams which were tearing at his mind and causing sometimes unrestrainable convulsions. Heart-wrenching cries and whimpers issued from his lips and his face was at times almost unrecognisable in its rictus of agony.

She found herself wishing that Xena or Hercules were there, and she remembered her promise to Xena to find the demi-god, should she need to; but how could she, when Iolaus was in no fit state to be left and she alone couldn't move him.

'Looks like it's up to me,' she realised grimly, though in that moment, strength rose up from somewhere inside her, and she committed herself afresh, to helping Iolaus, no matter what the cost. She would help him; she would bring him back from whatever dark place his mind was hiding now. She would do whatever it took.

She had no way of knowing what had brought on this unending nightmare that Iolaus was trapped in, had no medicine - and if she had, she didn't have the knowledge of how to apply it - she only had herself. She couldn't take him any further; she couldn't leave him to fetch help.

Somehow, she had to rescue him from the nightmare, bring him back to reality; at least then she had a chance of finding out how else she could help him. He had resisted words and being half-dragged from pillar to post hadn't had the slightest effect on him. What would bring Iolaus back? What could?

He looked so cold, so vulnerable, like a child held in the grip of a fever too powerful for it to fight. All she wanted to do was hold him and soothe him; just make it all go away.

Just make it all go away ...

Xena had once told her that when confronted by an uncertainty, the best thing to do was either nothing, or to dive in and go for the throat as it were; and since doing nothing wasn't improving matters, she had no choice but to go for the throat. Gathering him into her arms she leaned down and kissed him, the warm pressure of her mouth on his serving not only to silence his incoherent cries, but to draw what there was of his attention away from the scenes of horror which replayed endlessly in his mind.

Gradually he began to respond to the contact, moving his mouth slowly beneath hers, his hands seeking the warmth of her body, his arms going up instinctively around her and pulling her closer to him. It was going to work she realised dimly, but at that moment, was as much caught up as he was, in the simple, incredible power of the siren song she had begun. Begun by her, though now it had its own measure and was singing in their blood of its own singular accord - Gabrielle could almost hear it, a vibration ringing through her veins, touching every nerve with an intense, shaking life that she could not remember ever having struck hands with before.

As his arms tightened around her, she felt the heightening sensation rush through her; a flood of emotion twining her limbs around him in an effort to be as close as possible ...

... It was a dream, just a dream like the others, it had to be; but it was the first pleasurable experience he had known for what felt like a lifetime, and he clung to it, responded to it, like one drowning. The sweet, hot, unbearable passion bruising his lips ... he didn't care who it was at that moment, the love he felt radiating out of the body moving with his, was his lifeline - without it he would fall back into the madness. Someone cared enough to be here with him, all around him, loving him, making him feel safe, warm ... wanted ...

Something was whispering to him at the back of his mind, but it was no match for the heat, the incredible sensation drawing him ever closer into the ocean-home of her soul, whoever she was, he couldn't turn back now, couldn't listen ...

It was sudden and sharp, like the burst of honeyed liquor on the tongue; and then melting heat and knowing something that she hadn't known before ... and then it was over and there was a sinking into warmth and the sounds returning and the feel of the earth on her legs and arms and this was Iolaus ... Holding still, listening to the silence and feeling the power that the knowledge had over her; this was Iolaus ...

... and then she could breathe again, and she fell to the earth beside him and gathered him close, like a mother, held him close, to protect and to comfort ...

She felt the sharp warmth of tears on her cheeks and suddenly on her neck; something else they shared. Somehow, he had touched and opened a place inside her she didn't even know she had, not even with Xena; tightening her hold on him, and settling his head more surely into her shoulder, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep ...

Gabrielle woke, hours later to the sounds of soft, choked back weeping.

Iolaus.

Looking behind her, she saw him a yard or two off, sitting in the grass, his head resting on his arms which were across his knees. He raised his head for a moment, choking back another sob, the muscles of his jaw tight with the effort of trying to hold the emotion in check.

Rolling to her knees, she rose and went over to him, kneeling up beside him, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders once more. If it had been anyone else, she realised he would have shaken them off; he was stiff in her arms as he battled for trust.

Then, with a sigh which gave up more than the breath in his body, he relaxed against her and reached up a hand to clasp one of hers in a fierce grip. She stroked back the hair from his forehead soothingly and he closed his eyes, tears squeezing out from under the lids.

"It was my fault;" he whispered. "All my fault. She died and it was down to me ..."

"Iolaus? Who died? Why d'you think it was your fault?" Reaching across, Gabrielle stroked the tears away from his face, wishing she had some way of drying the tear streaks completely; there was a wind coming up and they would sting later. Iolaus didn't seem to care; he was still staring off ahead of him.

"Chloe ..."

He breathed the name as if it was something impossible to lose, something like the spray of the ocean, or the wind in the trees.  Something that was freedom ...

"I was young, she was younger, and we were both foolish enough to believe that a dream, once we had it, could never be lost, never be ruined ..."

Gabrielle turned him in her arms, so that she could see the play of emotion in his face, judge the depth of seriousness in his eyes.  "Iolaus ...  What happened?"

"I've made enemies in my time, Gabrielle, and they were probably the first of them.  The truth was I was a good thief back then, and they wanted me to work for them, but I refused.  They were brutal and arrogant way beyond anything I'd do, and I just didn't want anything to do with them.  Matter of fact that was how I met Chloe in the first place," he continued, almost warming to the tale.  "They were going to do over her Grandfather's place and I went to warn him; he was a cantankerous old man and he would have tried to stop them, and they would've killed him without a second thought.  Chloe was there, and ... well, she was so beautiful and kind, and ..."

"And it was love at first sight?" enquired Gabrielle, almost smiling as she made a guess at the rest.

"Yeah, I guess it was.  She had the thickest, richest brown hair I've ever seen; when we made love it came down like a curtain around us ..."

He faded off, immersed in the pleasanter memories, wishing that he could stay there, and not remember what happened after.  But Gabrielle was still there, looking at him, with that patient and understanding look in her eyes, and he felt like a coward, hiding from what he saw as the consequences of his actions.

The gang had found the two of them together, still enmeshed in each other, drowsy with bliss, and had decided to have a little fun-filled revenge on Iolaus for shopping them to the old man, who had summoned the magistrate to report Iolaus' words to him.  One of the members had been found and arrested, due to the authorities knowing the gang's plan and where they would be, and had swung down on the miscreants as they broke into the old man's shop, several weeks previously.  Most had escaped, but Devas, the youngest, and only eleven, had been caught and sentenced to prison, as he was recognised by other complainants for taking part in other robberies.

Devas was Dracus' little brother, and Dracus, nineteen, was the leader of the gang, and so felt he had a special licence to get whatever he wanted from Iolaus.  And what he wanted was pain, suffering, agony; as much of all three as he could find ways to exact ...

... "They knocked me out first off, planning to deal with me later ... and then they took Chloe ... they ..." but he could get no further as his mind's eye supplied the horrendous scene yet again, and he tried to cringe away from it, writhing under it's mercilessly pinching fingers as they dug deeper and deeper inside him, relentlessly seeking out his soul to tear it to shreds ...

Gabrielle didn't need any further explanation; she had come across similar herself, in her travels with Xena, and had known horror of similar power in her own recent experiences.  She was not surprised however, when eventually Iolaus got up the courage to at least face this particular demon in an effort to exorcise it.

Holding onto her arms which were crossed beneath his neck, holding him back against her, Iolaus told her the rest.  "I came to and heard her screaming; followed the sound and found Dracus ... tearing into her ... and the others ... in a line, waiting, some of them already finished ... All I could think of was stopping it and tearing Dracus into so many pieces ... but ... but they, some of them, saw me, stopped me, he-held me down while Dracus ..."  His breath sobbed out and he wrenched himself round to face Gabrielle, took her shoulders in a bone-crushing grip which she barely noticed.  "Gabrielle ... there's a moment when someone knows they're dying ... you can hear it in ... in the sounds they make ... it's a - a horror, a disbelief ..."

Gabrielle nodded dumbly, memories of such moments forcing themselves on her.

"I heard it ... the moment she knew ... oh, god, Gabrielle ..."

He clung to her, head buried in her shoulder, whilst he wept, almost choking as the horror and guilt and sadness crowded in on him, trying to crush him, not letting him breath.  Gabrielle ran gentle hands up and down his back and gradually the tide lessened, slowed, drifted off into little irregular sobbing breaths, and then to something resembling calm again.  She continued to hold him, rocking him in her arms, murmuring soothing words in understanding.  Total understanding.

 "I know;" she intoned, treating the words as if they officiated some precious ceremony.  "I know; and no matter what they say, it's still your fault because there should have been a way for you to stop them.  That's what you're there for, it's the reason you exist.  To keep life safe, to keep it from being taken, even from being harmed.  Not to watch it disappear as if it's no more than a dream in the night, and be able to do absolutely nothing about it."

Iolaus looked up at these words, surprise and something else in his eyes now.  Something she'd seen before ... sat beneath a tree, on a hillside, some years ago, after that thing with Prometheus, when the two of them had first met ...

"You do understand," he whispered.  Bowing his head suddenly, he spoke again.  "Not like ... not like Hercules ..." was what she barely heard.  "He tries to make me feel better about myself sometimes, when I screw up, and I know he means well, but ... it doesn't really cover it; it isn't the truth.  Oh, I mean, I know he's right, that it's probably not my fault, but ... that's not how I feel, and he just doesn't understand that."  Looking back up at her finally, Gabrielle became aware of gratitude in his eyes - gratitude and a growing sense of relief.  He let out the last of the tension with a huge sigh and wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, looking for all the world, to Gabrielle, like a tired little boy.

'Well, he probably is,' she reasoned, and putting her hands on his shoulders, looked into his eyes and smiled palely, feeling a sense of exhaustion herself.

"Why don't you try and get some sleep, Iolaus;" she told him, and for a moment she thought he was about to agree.  But it seemed there was more on his mind, and he got to his feet slowly.

"No, I really should get on to Plathos where I promised to meet Hercules; he's been visiting an old friend in the area and he must be wondering where I am by now.  I don't want him to come looking and fall fowl of Hamon and the rest of those 'cuties', at least not before he and I can come up with a plan to stop that maniac for all time."

The unconscious vehemence in Iolaus' voice sent a shiver through Gabrielle; not because it spoke of something violent and unprecedented, but because she'd heard it before - in Xena, and how many times?  That just wasn't like the Iolaus she had come to know.  He would revenge a friend, and the gods knew that Hamon deserved everything she hoped he got; but she hadn't thought it like Iolaus to be so bloody and vindictive.

He caught her looking at him.  "What?" he asked her, frowning, hearing nothing amiss in himself.

"Oh, nothing, it's just that ... you've changed a bit, since we first met.  I guess I've only just really noticed it, that's all."

A tired and knowing smile sent the sentiment right back to her and she had to grin, ruefully at the truth.  "Alright;" she admitted, "I guess we both have."

They prepared to walk off together, and Iolaus had put a companionable arm around her shoulder, and taken a few steps with her, when his legs gave out from under him and he hit the deck, hard.

"Iolaus ...!"

"WOW.... I guess I'm not quite ready for this yet."  He looked up, and gave her a shakey grin.  "Just give me a minute here, I haven't got my legs back yet."

"After the way I found you in the cell, I'm surprised you could use them at all," she told him, straight from the hip.  "Why don't we just stay here for now, and carry on tomorrow, huh?"

But he was adamant.  After a few moments, he tried again, and managed to stay on his feet this time.  He mentioned dizziness, but it didn't stop him from walking for an hour before collapsing again, near the edge of a lake.  The two agreed to stop there and make camp, as it would be a good place to catch some fish for their supper.

Chapter Five

Later on that night, when they were slowly munching their way through their fish supper, the talk turned to previous history that they had together.  There wasn't that much of it, but some of it had provided the bard with some hysterical tales, and Gabrielle had obviously figured that a trip down memory lane, taking in those good times, would be just the thing to cheer Iolaus up.  It worked for a while, but eventually, as he became more aware of the warmth of the fire, and the softness of its light, and the way it played across Gabrielle's animated features, his mind began to drift off in another direction.  One he wasn't sure it should take.

Yes, she had used her love for him to bring him back, but there had been a reason for that.  He was much older than she was, and they couldn't be together, bound as they were, each of them, to another person; their destinies separate, even though their souls might share the same space.  Any more complete relationship than the one they already had, couldn't work; maybe not ever.  Iolaus knew she was strong - as strong as he was - and that she could take the knocks that she was bound for, but he didn't want to add one iota to the weight that she would have to carry.

"Iolaus ..."

"Hmm ..."  

"Are you tired?"

"Wha - no, why?"

"Well, you just laughed at something that wasn't all that funny, I thought maybe you were drifting a bit?  Maybe we should get some sleep ..."

"Er ... yeah, that's just what I was thinking myself.  I guess I'm more tired than I thought I was," and he grinned at her, gathering a blanket to cover up with against the cool night breeze coming off the surface of the lake.

His face agreed with him.  His eyes did not, and he could see in her stolid patience and unmoving posture, arms crossed over her chest, that she hadn't believed a word.  "You know, if there's something else bothering you, we should maybe talk about it, like we did earlier," she suggested.  "You know it'll help and you might be able to get some sleep then."

"Erm ... no, there's nothing like that ..."  It was a lie, but he wasn't prepared to face that particular demon; not yet.

"Well, I can tell there's something," she protested, laughing to remove any sting he might feel in her words.  "Whatever it is ... c'mon, we can talk about it ..."

Why not? he thought suddenly.  It was a truth between them, and it might help them to feel less lonely if they actually said the words to each other.  She was old enough now, not to be treated like precious pottery that would break at one wrong word.  He smiled back at her.  "Okay ... if you wanna know, there is something I've been thinking about."

"Uh, huh," and she settled herself more comfortably on her blanket, just across the fire from him, prepared to listen.  "What is it?"

"Us."

She was pulled up a little short by that, although not completely non-plussed, and a wry little grin spread across her face, her eyes twinkling.  "Us, huh?"  She nodded slowly.  "Well, I ... guess that's ... not all that ... unexpected," she began, "considering the slightly unconventional way I got you to wake up an' all," she admitted sagely.  "I mean, I can see how that would be in your mind ... considering ... you know ..." she averred.  

"Yeah.  You know," he began slowly, "we have a very important job to do, you and I; we have to look after Hercules and Xena - make sure they don't go over the edge or anything."

"Mmm;" Gabrielle agreed, suddenly almost bitter.  "Don't I know it.  Remind me to tell you about what happened over the last few months, sometime.  Not right now, though; it would take all night and all day, and I don't know whether I can tell it so it makes sense yet."

"Okay," Iolaus replied, taking that by-the-by.  "What we do," he continued, "is kind of like a destiny of its own, and while it exists, we're bound to the person - me to Herc, and you to Xena - come Tartarus or flood, no matter what."

"I know;" returned Gabrielle, ahead of him now.  "What you mean is, we can't be together, so what I did ... to get you back ... it has to be just that and no more ... it can't bind us, because, in a way, we're already spoken for."

There was a sadness in his face as he looked back at her, but also a fierce pride in his eyes.  He reached out momentarily and took her hand in his.  She squeezed it hard, giving him his own fierce, affectionate, steady gaze, right back.  "I love Xena," she told him, "she's my only family now; and in that, she's everything.  She's known the best of me and the worst, and she still loves me, and the same with her and how I feel, but I know that there's going to come a time, Iolaus, when I can't carry on with her.  I can feel it."

Looking off across the lake now, her gaze becoming distant, her voice fell silent; contemplating prophecy perhaps.  "Either she'll die and go to the Elysian fields without me, or one day I just won't be able to keep up with her anymore.  She's not quite human, you know.  She's not sure herself, but there's more than a possibility that her father is Ares."

"Ares?  Her father?" Iolaus was shocked as he contemplated that idea.  "Gods, what a parent!  Looks like she's got more in common with Herc than I thought," he concluded, bending his gaze to the fire.

"And you; how many times have you died or nearly died?"  Iolaus began to ponder the question but Gabrielle forestalled an answer, silently declaring her previous question as rhetorical.  "You'll survive him, Iolaus; Hercules, I mean.  I'm sure of it.  But there'll come a time, when you'll have no choice but to stay behind.  Maybe when that happens ... we could be together then ... I've just got this feeling ..."

She drifted into silence.  Iolaus continued to gaze into the flames; he felt a warmth, a closeness with Gabrielle, so like that moment they had first said goodbye.  But this was less of a gift between them, and more of an establishment of something more solid; something that would hold steady, warm and quiet, just under their ribs, for the rest of their lives.  It was more deeply rooted than what bound Iolaus to Hercules, or Gabrielle to Xena, though it was less intense.

"So, do I spend half an hour beating about the bush, or are you just going to make room for me over there, right now?" she asked him, "because, we don't get that much time together, and I don't intend to waste any of it sleeping alone when I don't have to.  For one thing, I hate it, and for another thing ... I'd really like to do that 'revive Iolaus' thing again, please."

Iolaus snorted with sudden laughter, his smile and shining eyes bringing the fierce starlight to earth.  "Oh, I'd hate for you to waste valuable energy beating any bushes," he told her, shifting his blanket a little to the left, to open up a space for her.  "I just wish the blankets were bigger; it's kinda cold."

Throwing her own blanket alongside his, she sank down and cuddled up as close as she could get to him.  "Oh, I don't think we'll get cold," she told him, her warm grin twinkling with humour as he reached out and put his arms around her.

His heart thudding in his chest like that of a first-time teenager almost frightened him; he loved women and he had made love with more of them than he could remember, let alone count.  He was used to the experience, used to the ebb and flow of it, and although it was never really the same twice, his responses, over the years had fallen into a certain pattern which he was, in a way, used to.

Not with Gabrielle.  He was presented with a clean slate, the only similar experience being that time he had shared with Niobe, but even that had less definition, less reality than this endless moment with Gabrielle.  He could do nothing but gaze into her eyes, feeling complete in the wells of her soul, his thoughts and feelings already tangling with hers and they hadn't even kissed yet.  She was so close and drawing nearer to taste his lips, but he was almost disappointed when he lost the contact with her eyes, only to gain it with her mouth.

Closing his own eyes, his attention became centred on touch, the warm, full, softness of her lips, those lips which he knew would never belong with anyone elses in the way they belonged with his, and his heart exploded with a melting love for her, feeling each tiny flick of her tongue against his lips, shoot lightning throughout his body, and he pressed closer, closer, almost crushing her against him, aware of every part of her that was touching every part of him.

He opened his mouth and let her in, and couldn't keep a vulnerable moan from sounding deep in his throat, as she drew his tongue into her own mouth and sucked on it, strongly and steadily, but with a hunger that spoke of a need of her own, which the nectar of only his mouth, could assuage.

Her small fingers were kneading his back, clutching and releasing, like a kitten after milk from its mother, and as the kiss deepened, her body writhed in an effort to be ever closer to him.  "Oh, gods, Iolaus," she whispered when they finally broke for breath, "I just want to crawl inside you, and never leave ..."

Tears swam in his eyes, as he heard the heated words; almost sobbing for breath, he pulled back enough to look at her for a moment.  "Gabrielle ..."

"It's alright," she told him, fiercely and quickly, forestalling any doubts on his part.  "I won't be sad when we part; but I needed you to know how I feel.  Needed you to know how much you mean to me ..." and then she was kissing him again, small, sensitive touches on his skin, bestowing benediction: his lips, the bridge of his nose, his eyes she particularly lingered over, then moving on to his ears, sucking slowly on the lobes and gold rings hung there, playing and tugging gently on them with her tongue, making him moan again.  She seemed to like the sound and continued her play in order to hear it again.

Her hands were pulling and tugging at the jacket which she eventually managed to get off one shoulder, whereupon she immediately turned her attention to the strong, burnished flesh that was revealed, pressing her lips into it, running over it and pushing into it with her tongue.  She followed the broad, strong line up from the tip of his collarbone to the hollow at the base of his throat, where already sweat pooled, and she lapped at it, moaning to herself and moving her hips against him insistently, unable to resist the instinct.  Not wanting to.

The melting heat flowing outwards from his groin in huge, overwhelming waves would normally have dominated even Iolaus' practiced responses, so powerful was it, but there was a hitherto unknown overruling calm, neutralising the impulse, emanating from the region of his heart, which kept him from pushing aside her clothing and pushing into her, even though it was obvious that she was ready for him.

He reached for the laces of her bodice and pulled, the weight of her breasts pushing the material apart, enabling them to escape to freedom and his searching fingers and mouth.  Taking the sweet flesh of her left breast in one hand, he closed his mouth over the dark nipple, laving it with his tongue, long sensuous strokes which made her gasp for breath and push into his mouth, her fingers running deep into his blond locks and pulling him against her as she twisted and writhed under the almost unbearable assault on her tender flesh.

Reaching out wildly, she encountered the sleek leather of his customary black pants, and searching desperately, finally found the belt buckle, which she struggled to undo.  Realising her mission, Iolaus - mouth still on her breast, suckling hungrily - shakily moved her hand, and undid the belt, letting the ends drop to the sides.  His supple fingers making short work of the ties on the cod piece, he was soon shimmying out of the pants and pressing himself up against her, his engorged penis dancing moltenly against her fingers as she worked to free herself of her skirt.

Then she was free and there was nothing but clutching limbs and flesh against flesh and sweet moans as Iolaus sat upright, pulling Gabrielle up against him, her legs wrapped in a bone-crushing hug around his waist, with him already inside her, buried in one smooth move, up to the hilt in her.

The passion was sweet and hot as they rode each other, each pressing the other to deeper contact, sharper and more unbearable sensation, mouths fused together, Iolaus' tongue plunging deep, in rhythm and action echoing the deep, insistent movements of his hips and his penis inside her, sending her senses ever higher, ever closer to the awareness of him.

It was a simple, intense experience, owing nothing to technique or discipline, and soon over; an explosion of holy fire, stripping away the layers to the knowledge inside, revealing a single soul, already perfect in its existence ...

... the divine fall from that higher state of grace, feathered into a languid state by the winged tongues of flame which encircled and invaded them, speaking of all their secrets, releasing them to joy and satiation ...

... still moving slowly, lazily, their wordless conversation reduced only to a pause for breath and contemplation, before they resumed, on the hunt for more secrets to be set free.

Rocking slowly, her warmth around him and against him and touching him everywhere, already filling his penis again slowly, still inside her, and her eyes opened and flashed night stars of her own.  "Mmm, Iolaus ..."

He reached out slightly shakey hands to caress the whisps of hair away from her face, and leaned in slowly to kiss her again, tightening his arms around her; she in turn moved her hands across his shoulders, fingertips lingering, to finally rest, once again in the hollow at the base of his throat which she found so intoxicating.  Drawing nearer she kissed the skin all along his neck and he arched back, sighing at the pleasure of the renewed contact.  His hands drifting from her face, traced lower, across her ears, her shoulders, stroking lightly down her sides, until they pulled up slightly to cup her breasts, fingers feathering up and down the super sensitive skin along the outside curve near her arms.

She shivered and he rubbed slowly across the dark nipples, bringing them to fiery aching life, shooting the sensations down into the most intimate part of her; squeezing with her legs, she pulled herself closer to him and pressed herself against him, arching her back, and speeding the movements again.

Suddenly he was gentling her, slowly pulling away from her, and there was a hand to her mouth.  "Sssh, Gabrielle," she heard him whisper to her; "there's someone out there. It could be Hamon's men."

Still in a sex-fogged haze, Gabrielle, gathered her clothes, and struggled to get back into them, as Iolaus, still naked, worked to dowse the fire without it smoking too much.  Then grabbing his own clothes, boots, and blankets and, keeping low, he grabbed her hand and took the two of them off into the cover of some underbrush which crowded the side of the bank which led down to the lakeside.

The two of them held still and quiet until a couple of furtive figures appeared, poles in hand, sneaking over the rise and down to the lake a little further around the bank, where they sat themselves down and proceeded to begin a little night fishing.

"Damn!!" proclaimed Gabrielle, whispering as vehemently as she could.  "I don't believe this!  There we were, finally able to take a little time just for ourselves for a change, and we have to get interrupted by a couple of poachers!!  I don't believe this!!!"

She felt him shaking against her, and looked back, wondering if something had triggered another bad memory, and she prepared to soften her tone and comfort him, when she stopped.  Staring back at him, she could see his shoulders were shaking, not with weeping, but with laughter.  His hand over his mouth, his face creased from one ear to the other in a hysterical grin, he was trying desperately not to snort when he eventually breathed in; when he didn't succeed, she couldn't keep herself from smiling.  That just made him worse, and he was going red in the face trying not to make a noise, which pulled her into the moment, and before long, she was clutching her sides and half choking with laughter, right along side him.  When they finally managed to stop, and peek out of the brush, it was to see the midnight anglers picking themselves up, and with somewhat fearful glances in their direction, were making their way hurriedly along the bank, with the obvious intention of setting up shop somewhere else.

"Er ... I think we scared them away," observed Iolaus, a big grin still lighting up his face.  Gabrielle made a big show about appearing to stop and think about this.  "Perhaps they thought we were the 'Slithery, two-headed, jagged-toothed, pike monster', she told him solemnly.  "One has been known to frequent these very parts."

'Slithery ... two-headed ... jagged-toothed, pike monster," Iolaus repeated enquiringly.  "Ah, hah, yes, I see.  And is this feisty beast going to make it into this particular scroll?" he asked her, meaning the tale she would eventually write of these events.

She nodded carefully at him, as if she were drunk, and putting her arms around him, leaned close and whispered against his lips,

"Oh, yes.  Very definitely.  No tale can be considered complete without one of those."

"Uh, huh," he returned, licking her lips softly and eliciting an  'mmm...'  from her.  "A slithery ..." (lick) "... two-headed ..." (lick) ... "jagged-toothed ..." (lick, tiny bite ... 'mmmMMM...!!') ... "pike monster;" he repeated once more for good measure, not to mention to make way for the other shoe.

"So that's what you're calling it these days ...."

Without another word, and tossing caution to the wind, they returned to the seriously lovely and insinuous business from which they had been so rudely interrupted.

Chapter Six

As love stole in, so did the nightmares intrude.

Iolaus slept like a log until a few minutes before dawn, when the dreams began again and he woke screaming Chloe's name, eyes wild to find her, his heart jumping into his throat when he saw Gabrielle lying beside him.  For a moment, the shadow on the ground before her, made by her body, looked like blood, and he snatched her up in his arms, expecting to find empty, pain-bruised eyes.  He nearly jumped out of his skin when Gabrielle, roused out of sleep and believing herself attacked, lashed out backwards with an arm and sent him flying to the blanket.

"WHO the ...!!!  Iolaus ...?  What are you doing?" she asked him, sounding angry for a second, before she came to properly and saw the wild confusion and anguish in his eyes; heard the struggle for breath, as he fought to dispel the terror.  "Hey, it's alright, everything's okay," she crooned softly, shuffling over to him and rubbing a hand between his shoulder blades.  She looked for the rueful smile she had expected and was surprised when it wasn't forthcoming.  Just more and more pain, twisting his guts, his body writhing in sympathy, trying to deny that the dream had been anything to do with him.  When he finally spoke, the words were unexpected.

"Ah, Tartarus, why'd he have to ... why me!!?  This was over, buried, why'd he have to bring it up again, why'd he have to ... Oh, gods, just give me strength, to see him dead, like I thought this was dead!!" and almost as if she wasn't there, he rose to his feet, shucked into his jacket and then just stood, arms hugging himself, looking for all the world as if he needed to be on the move.

At that moment, although Gabrielle wasn't sure what Iolaus was talking about, she did understand one thing; she was the only thing keeping him there, at their camp, and still.  There was a huge energy roiling around inside him and he needed to move with it, try and work it off.  Going with his need, she merely, put on what remaining clothing she wasn't already wearing, gathered up the blankets, rolling them and preparing them for travel, picked up his weapons and handed them to him - he tucked the knife in his belt and grasped the broadsword in it's sheath, automatically - and then, retrieving her staff, took him by the arm and began a fast-paced walk along the shore of the lake, heading North towards Plathos.

For awhile they travelled in silence; then slowly, possibly without realising he was talking, Iolaus began voicing all the little thoughts that were taunting him still, pulling at him to search restlessly and endlessly for an answer that wasn't forthcoming.  "I mean, it really wasn't my fault," he began, and Gabrielle wasn't sure he meant for her to hear or not, the words were murmured so softly.  "There was nothing I could do, there was half a dozen of them, just holding ... holding me ... down ..."

The words struggled for utterance, not wanting to be heard, but needing to be searched for flaws.

"I tried, old man, I did; gods, I loved her, d'you really think I would've just ..."

But there were other words, loud and angry and heartbroken and hating, the old man's words that wouldn't leave him alone, accusing, and even though they were wrong, they cut him to the bone, stabbed deep into his heart and twisted, cruel fingers exacting a needless and mistaken revenge for the old man's loss.

'.... LOOK WHAT THEY'VE DONE TO HER, HOW DO I KNOW YOU WEREN'T WITH THEM, YOU PROBABLY WERE, YOU RAPIST, MURDERER, YOUR FAULT SHE'S DEAD, YOUR FAULT, YOUR FAULT .........!!!!!!!......'

"... No, I didn't, you don't understand, I didn't leave her with them, they knocked me out, I couldn't stop them ..."

'.... YOUR FAULT SHE'S DEAD, YOUR FAULT, YOUR FAULT .........!!!!!!!......'

"Oh, GODS, why won't you listen to me!!?  I didn't know!  It happened, and I didn't know until it was too late, why won't you underSTAND!!!"

"Iolaus ..."

'... RAPIST, MURDERER ...'

"I'm NOT, I'm not any of those things, why won't you shut up, just shut up, shut UP!!!"

"Iolaus ...!!"

It was no good, he couldn't really hear her any more; the diatribe battered at his mind until he found himself so sick of it, that some dark thing inside him wanted nothing more than to kill the old man too.  Coming to a standstill, Iolaus looked around him.  "Where are we?"

Grasping his arms and searching his eyes for some sign that he actually saw and recognised her, she shook him.  "Iolaus!!  What's wrong?  Who were you talking to?"

"Talking ..." he looked back at her impatiently, only just grasping what she was asking him and not caring.  "Nothing, it doesn't matter," he returned shortly.  "Where are we!?"

Seeing that she wasn't about to get a coherent answer to her own question, she answered his.  "We're on our way North, to Plathos;" she told him steadily.  "To meet up with Hercules, remember?"   But Iolaus shook his head, his mind obviously on other things.

"No, that's gotta wait," he said, still sounding impatient.  "I've gotta go back there, I've gotta find him."

"Find who?" asked Gabrielle, hoping she was near an explanation here.

"The old man!!" Iolaus almost shouted at her.  "Her Grandfather!!  I've gotta face him, convince him he was wrong; I've gotta talk to him!  Now c'mon," and he grabbed her hand and went off in an Easterly direction, his hunter's instincts telling him where he needed to go, to find the old man and settle this thing between them, once and for all.

The fact that Chloe's Grandfather had to be dead by now, never occured to him at all.

Chapter Seven

The grave provided the final slap in the face and Iolaus just couldn't take it.  He collapsed to his knees in the grass, slack-jawed and glassy-eyed, hugging himself still, as if against the cold.  Within moments Gabrielle was on her knees beside him, and when she reached her arms around him, to comfort him, he felt cold; looked withdrawn and Gabrielle didn't know what to do.

She saw a someone walking by, eyeing the two of them curiously, and beckoned the woman over.  Before she got to them, she seemed to recognise Iolaus and put a hand to her mouth.  Gabrielle repeated the gathering gesture more firmly, and stood to talk to the woman.

"I thought I recognised your friend," the woman whispered, unable seemingly to take her eyes off Iolaus.  "He was the one who got picked on by Dracus all those years ago.  That poor girl, Chloe, and her Grandfather ... well, he went off the rails when he found what had happened, blamed - oh, Olympus, what was his name now?"

"Iolaus," supplied Gabrielle, realising with a sigh of relief that here she might finally get a full account of everything that had happened that still held Iolaus in its tormenting grip.

"Oh, yes, of course, I should have remembered.  Iolaus, that was it.  Well, anyway, he was blamed at first, but then the evidence came to light -"

"Look," Gabrielle was forced to interrupt.  "Is there someone around here who can help him?  He's trapped in the memories and they're eating him up," she explained.  "But he just keeps coming out with things that I don't really understand ..." and she looked back at him, moving back to his side and putting her hands on his shoulders as he ran his hands repeatedly through his hair, becoming more and more distracted.  "Look, I really need to get him to a healer for now; he needs something to calm him down, or we're never going to sort this all out.  Is there anyone nearby?"

"A neighbour of mine," the woman told her, motioning for them to go with her.  "She's only a midwife but she knows the sedatives, and will doubtless have something for him.  Will he come with you?" she asked, eyeing Iolaus doubtfully.

"I'll manage somehow," said Gabrielle, trying to get Iolaus to turn and go with her, but he stubbornly refused to leave the grave.

"Gabrielle ..."

It was the first thing he'd said to her since they'd arrived there.  "What ... what am I going to do?  He's dead.  I can't talk to him if he's dead!  How'm I ever going to get him to understand, how'm I going to get him to forgive me!!?  What am I going to do?"

"Iolaus," she tried, patiently, "You can talk to him, wherever he is now, he'll hear you won't he?  In spirit; and you know you haven't done anything to need his forgiveness -"

He tore his arm from her grasp.  "NO, no, I have to talk to him, he has to know, he has to understand ... He never gave me a chance to explain ... and then I never went back ...  I should've gone back ..."

Gabrielle looked back at the woman and shook her head.

"I'll fetch her;" the woman told her softly.  "She'll be able to give him something to calm him, no worries, - what's your name dear?"

"Gabrielle."

"Right, Gabrielle.  You keep him here if you can and I'll go and fetch Iomanthe; I'll be as quick as I can, it's not far ..."

"Thank you, er ...?"

"Martha," the woman replied and hurried off to get the midwife.

Iolaus was beginning to pace now, still talking to himself, his voice betraying how upset and distracted he was.  He never strayed far from the grave, his eyes returning to it constantly.

Gabrielle sighed and shook her head again.  Once more she wished that she could have brought Xena with her.  There was no doubt in her that she would not leave, would not give up, until Iolaus had found surcease from his pain.

What she was less certain of - against the powerful alchemy of memory and long-buried guilt - was whether she had the strength to help him find his answer.

He was quiet now, and telling the story to Gabrielle, but automatically, as if it had happened to someone else, and it seemed there were gaps in the telling, things that didn't quite come together. At the end of it she still wasn't quite sure how Iolaus had defeated the gang and saved himself from the threatened retribution, nor what had happened to Dracus.  She left him dozing before the midwife's fire and went to sit with Iomanthe, who also remembered the events of eighteen years ago.

"He seems to have forgotten a bit," she commented, and Gabrielle shook her head.

"No, he hasn't; he remembers, he just doesn't want to.  How did he manage to get himself and Chloe's body away from them?"

Passing a seed cake across to the bard, the older woman settled herself more comfortably in her chair and took a long draft of her ale, before she explained.  "It seemed that Dracus was intent on pouring punishment on Iolaus himself, and had the others let him loose so that he could beat him himself.  Well, that was his mistake.  As soon as Iolaus was freed, he ran off, and Dracus and the others followed him.  He led them into the woods, where he lay in wait for Dracus and then captured him in a trap, and ... well, he was dead when the others in the gang found him.  And he was a real mess.  Unrecognisable."

Gabrielle couldn't help but notice the involuntary shudder that the woman gave and guessed that she must have seen the body.  She wondered just how bad it could have been to leave that kind of impression even over all these years.

"Not that anyone brought Iolaus to trial for it;" Iomanthe continued.  "The magistrate had been trying to capture Dracus for the past five years and he already had a death sentence waiting for him, young though he was.  The whole town said that Iolaus had done them a favour."

"But the old man still blamed him for his grand-daughter's death?" asked Gabrielle, her voice sounding loud in her ears as she still struggled with the idea of Iolaus exacting that much punishment on anyone.  No wonder he didn't want to face it.

"Oh, yes;" continued the midwife, taking another pull at her ale.  "Lysander doted on young Chloe.  Since the death of his son and daughter-in-law, two years previous, he made Chloe his whole world and he just never faced the fact that she wasn't his to keep.  He hated Iolaus for falling in love with her, as he considered he was stealing her away from him, although, to be honest with you, it was just what the poor girl needed.  Then when Iolaus brought the body back ...  He was in shock you see, and he just couldn't explain to the old man what had happened.  He must have felt the guilt already, and Lysander said some terrible things to him in his own grief.  He even accused Iolaus of being part of the gang, and ... well -"

"I know," replied Gabrielle shortly, suddenly understanding some of the things that Iolaus had come out with, and not needing or wanting to hear the words out loud, herself.  She cast her gaze back to him, and sighed, watching him falling asleep in the chair near the fire, his head slipping lower on his chest.  "It's alright, I think I understand what he's been struggling with all this time now."

"Mmm.  Anyway, he should sleep a good few hours now," Iomanthe concluded, rising to her feet, and, indicating a room through to the right, told Gabrielle there was a bed there where he could rest.  "We'll see how he is in the morning."

"Thank you, it's very kind of you to help like this," Gabrielle told her, going over to the fire to wake Iolaus.

"That's alright, m'dear, that's what I'm here in this world for," said the woman, fetching blankets from a chest in the corner.  "I'm afraid there's only one bed, but it's big, or there's a chair in there is comfortable enough, whichever you prefer," the woman told Gabrielle, with a kind enough and knowing set to her face.  Thanking the woman once more, she levered a still sleepy Iolaus to his feet and managed to get him into the other room.

"You can sleep in in the morning, if you like, I don't necessarily rise early myself anymore, unless there's anyone due, and there isn't right now," Iomanthe told her, closing the door behind them.

"Alright, thank you," Gabrielle called back, and had no sooner settled Iolaus on the bed, than he curled up and went to sleep again.

Gabrielle eyed the big bed and then looked at the chair.  There was no doubt the bed would be more comfortable, but if Iolaus was visited by nightmares again, she could wake up with broken bones or bad bruising at least, if she wasn't careful.  Removing his boots and pulling a couple of blankets up over him, she decided on the chair and loosening her top and taking off her own boots, she grabbed a blanket and made herself as comfortable as she could in the chair.

She must have been more tired than she realised, because it was almost four in the morning when she awoke to a thumping sound coming from the bed; shooting up out of the chair, she saw Iolaus thrashing around under the blankets, thumping on the base boards of the bed, and yelling something incoherent.

Running over, she just about managed to catch hold of his wrists and pull him around to face her.  His eyes were open, but unseeing, and he caught at her arm, pulling her towards him.

"Is it ... is it you?" he asked, breathless and desperate, his grip bruising and unbreakable.  "Chloe, is it you?  I found you didn't I?  It was a dream, wasn't it, just a horrible dream!!?"  Crushing Gabrielle in a rib-breaking hug, he continued to croon, partly to her, partly to himself, in the grip of whatever vision he was seeing in his sleep.  "I found you, I was so scared, it was horrible, you don't want to know, I couldn't tell you, but you're alright, I found you, you can go back to him now, so he won't be mad at me anymore, will he?"

Icy hands froze around Gabrielle's heart as she realised why Iolaus had been banging on the bedboard; he'd thought he was banging on Chloe's coffin lid.  He'd been trying to wake the dead.

When Gabrielle caught hold of him, he'd obviously thought he had succeeded.  "Oh, gods; what do I do?  How do I get him to accept this, face it and accept it?  Oh, DAMMIT, why didn't I bring Xena with me?"

Iolaus refused to let go of her, keeping her tightly against him in a grip of iron, holding her as if she was the most precious thing in the world to him, so little by little, she managed to persuade him that everything was alright and that they should just get some sleep now, and he lay back, still clutching her, and stroking her hair now.

'I knew I'd end up in this bed before morning', she told herself ruefully and rubbed her eyes sleepily.  It wasn't until that moment that she felt the tears which had escaped her, unnoticed.  A rush of sadness suddenly rose in her for the man who held her so close, in dreams convinced she was a lost love already dead, and trying to free her from that death, held her fast as a salvation for his tortured soul.

Gabrielle could think of nothing to say to him; there was nothing, so, letting the tears fall unheeded, she lay her head on his shoulder, her hand over his grieving heart, and tried in vain, to return to sleep.

Chapter Eight

"Is he awake yet?"

Iomanthe emerged from her own room, combing her hair back and weaving it into a practical plait.  Gabrielle looked up from where she was sat on the settle, leaning down and raking out the ashes of the burned out fire.  "Oh, good morning.  I hope you don't mind me doing this," she said, indicating the fire.  "When I woke up this morning, Iolaus had started in with chills and I thought it might be a good idea to try and get something warm into him; not to mention something to try and bring his tempreture back to normal.

Instantly Iomanthe was all business.  "Yes, of course I have, and there's some chicken broth in the pot at the side there, once the fire's going.  That should help.   I wonder what's caused this?  Has he had anything to eat in the past day or so?  If he's been so distracted, I thought maybe he might not have."

"He hasn't had much, that's true.  He hasn't wanted anything, and when I found him, he'd been held prisoner by Hamon; I think all this was brought on because he'd been drugged with something."

"What kind of drug?  Do you know?"

"No, just that he seemed to be locked in his own nightmare world; I didn't think he was going to come out of it."

"He did though?" asked Iomanthe.  "What happened, did he just come out of it, was there any vomiting?  What?"

"Er ... no; he was delusional and I couldn't get him to go any farther, and well, there was a chance that Hamon would discover that Iolaus had escaped, so I had to get us out of there, so I had to just, er .... well, bring him out of it .... kind of ..."

The midwife just smiled, guessing from Gabrielle's dissembling, just how she'd gone about that.  But it still didn't explain the sudden illness.

"Hmm; I really don't know enough to be able to judge what might have caused this;" she concluded.  "But I know someone who may be able to.  Stay here with him while I go to the other end of town and fetch my brother's son.  He's been studying medicine in Athens, and is recently returned home.  Maybe he can help."

Gabrielle nodded vigorously and started the fire, whilst Iomanthe wrapped a shawl around her shoulders and stepped out.

It took Gabrielle a little while to get the fire hot enough - fetching more kindling and placing it strategically in the hearth so that it would best catch, before she put the pot over it to heat up the broth.  So, it was at least half an hour later when she finally went into the back room to check on Iolaus.

Who was no longer there.

The shutters were thrown back and a strong breeze was coming in the open window, and the room was empty.  His clothes were gone, and when Gabrielle approached the window hurriedly, and looked out, there were a few bootprints in the soft earth beneath the window that led off towards the woods on the East side of the town.  "Oh, no, Iolaus ... Dammit!!  Why didn't I think to check on you before?"

'Well, it hadn't looked like he was going anywhere, anytime soon;' a small voice of practicality reminded her.

"No excuse," she mumbled and putting on her own boots and hurriedly scribbling a note for Iomanthe on a piece of scrap parchment from her bag, Gabrielle scrambled through the window and tried to follow the boot prints in the hope that Iolaus hadn't been able to get too far away.  He was nowhere in sight, but the woods were quite near, so she headed off in their direction.

It had been a fine, hot day when Xena bumped into Hercules, who offered to help her in her quest against Hamon, but now there were storm clouds gathering, and not just on the horizon.  Hercules had reacted badly to the news that Gabrielle had gone off on her own mission, spurred by dreams, to rescue Iolaus, and the two of them had tracked her as far as the fortified township where Hamon held court with his other warlord cronies.

"What are you going to do?"  Xena asked him, all in favour of marching right in there and demanding to see Hamon.  After all, there was no more sign of Gabrielle, that they had come across, and if anything had happened to her, Xena would make sure that Hamon came to rue the day he was ever born.

Hercules looked up at the battlements of the walled town.  "It looks like Hamon's only got a skeleton crew guarding the place; I wonder why?"

"Maybe he's off on another raid," suggested Xena.  "We should go and check the entrance to this place."

Hercules grasped her arm to stall her.  "They're not just going to tell us whether their master is 'in' or not, Xena."

She smiled her best secretive grin.  "Don't worry Hercules; I'm not going to ask them."

Keeping to the underbrush which grew up to the walls of the town, they made their way around to the front entrance, situated in the South wall.  Xena sniffed the air and examined the ground carefully.  "Well, there's been no raiding party out of here for at least two days," she finally decided, "although someone has gone out with a horse-drawn cart within the last eighteen hours or so.  Whatever was in the cart was quite heavy."

"Supplies for the men?" ventured Hercules.

"No; if they'd been out of there for longer than two days then we'd have heard about it," Xena hazarded.  "It could be anything."

"Or it could be someone sneaking off to get away from Hamon's tyranny.  A family maybe, or ..."

"Or someone making an escape attempt?"  Xena looked up at the big man, more than just the question in her eyes.

"Gabrielle and Iolaus;" agreed Hercules.  "We can hope so."

"In the meantime, we still have to find out whether they're actually in there or not," Xena reminded him, straightening up and setting her sword a little straighter on her back.

"Any suggestions?" asked Hercules.

Xena thought for a moment and then smiled that secretive smile once more, heralding the appearance of a plan.  "Yeah; if you march on in there and get caught, d'you think you can get yourself free again?"

"No problem," Hercules announced, modesty in his case, totally unnecessary.  "But what are you going to do?"

"Oh, I'll be playing a few games ... taking the heat off you, as much as I can.  Meet back here in, what, six hours?"

"It shouldn't take that long," Hercules told her cheerfully, already striding off in the direction of the front gate.  Her smile only broadening, Xena took off after him.  There had been no fun in days, and she was looking forward to this ...

It really hadn't taken all that long; a disagreement in the tavern, a messy bar fight, and Hercules soon found himself, chained and under guard, presented to Hamon as a troublemaker for sentencing under Hamon's own particular justice.

'Not what I'd call it,' thought Hercules having already heard one man condemned to the cells for three years for making a simple error in handling the dogs which had resulted in one of the guards being bitten.  Now he was waiting for Hamon to look up from some document he was perusing.  Hercules was about to nudge Hamon's attention, when the warlord looked up and smiled in his direction.  His swarthy skin and crooked features made the expression more of a grimace which actually suited his temprement very well.  Nevertheless, there was something about it which sent chills down Hercules' spine.

"Ah, Hercules; at last we meet," drawled Hamon his thick voice grating in the demi-god's ears.  "I wondered how long it would take you."

"Never mind the pleasantries, Hamon; I think we both know what I think of you, so let's just get this over with, shall we?"

The man chuckled dryly, some spark of knowledge in his eyes turning Hercules' blood cold suddenly.

"Very well.  You're here to find out about your friend, Iolaus.  Bad news, I'm afraid.  He's not here," Hamon continued, his demeanour presenting a hateful mock sadness which only reinforced Hercules' presentiment of doom.  "He and that little blonde bint left, oh, hours and hours ago."

Again the chuckle, and Hercules swallowed in a suddenly dry mouth, not speaking, knowing there was more.  

"You can go after them if you like, but they've got a good head start on you, even considering how ill your friend was when he left ..."

Hercules surged forward against his restraints, breaking free from the guards easily.

"Now, now, Hercules, you're not about to do anything foolish, are you?" Hamon admonished him.  He produced a little vial of some green potion from the folds of his black robe.  "If you do anything to me, you'll never know how to administer the antidote, will you?"

Trembling with rage and fear, Hercules stood his ground, but advanced no further.  "What have you done to him?"

"It's a very interesting little-known poison, Hercules, developed in a land far from here.  The contents of this vial are the only cure, but it must be administered in a certain way, or it won't work."

"Tell me," Hercules demanded.

"Mmm, not quite yet, son of Zeus; I haven't finished explaining it all to you yet."

"JUST ... give me the antidote and tell me how to give it to him," grated Hercules, his patience growing thin.  "I don't need to know anything else."

"I know," admitted the warlord, "but this vial is the only antidote there is, and there's no more of it.  You will listen to the rest, or I shall drop this bottle; understood?"

Biting his lip, Hercules nodded tightly, too angry to say any more.

Hamon's excuse for a smile became positively indulgent, and Hercules' stomach churned, but he kept silent while Hamon continued.

"The poison affects the mind, drawing hidden secrets to the surface to madden whoever is in its grip.  Then it becomes quiescant for awhile, seeming to lose its effectiveness, only to return some hours later.  This pattern continues until the victim dies."

Hamon stood, bringing in the folds of his voluminous robe around him, and then descended the steps from his throne to the hall floor.  Waving the vial to and fro in his fingers, he paced across the room, continuing his explanation, this time with a question.

"Tell me Hercules, has your friend ever told you about a woman named Chloe?  And her grandfather?  No?  You surprise me, I've heard tell that you two are the best of friends; I'd've thought that he would tell you everything.  Ah, well, never mind.  Suffice it to say that your friend is being drawn towards a place from which he cannot escape, even should he survive that long.  Perhaps you've heard of it; the Well of Lost Souls?  Yes?"

Hercules' voice trembled as he spoke, no longer caring who heard him.  "It's a mythical place, supposedly the well spring of the waters of Lethe; any who fall in there, forget who they are and then slowly fall asleep, and drown ..."

"It's not a myth, Hercules; it is situated in a cave, near an enchanted town; both held secret from the eyes of men most of the time, in an enchanted forest, created by a people who lived a long time before most of this land was ever populated.  Really, Hercules, you should research more, as I have.  Your friend will go there and throw himself into the well, to escape the torture of the mind which my little poison provides.  If, as I say, he survives that long.  So you'd better not hang around trying to kill me, son of Zeus; if you want to find your friend in time to save him, you'd better go now.  Oh, by the way, your warrior 'pain-in-the-ass' princess is waiting for you just outside.  I had my men go collect her; I wouldn't want you to waste time looking for her ..."

Hercules had stayed silent only because he'd become aware that complying with Hamon's wishes was more important than ripping the man's heart out - if indeed, he had one.  Now he had only one question.

"Why?  Why go to all this trouble, Hamon?  What did Iolaus ever do to you?"

Walking over to the big man, Hamon handed him the vial and then returned to his throne, seeming totally unconcerned about anything.  "To me?  Nothing; but he's a very convenient way of getting to you.  I have work to do in these parts and you're a nuisance, Hercules.  I had to find some way of getting you out of my hair."

"But why this way, why not just -"

Hamon leaned forward on his throne, delivering his final blow.  "Because I have a sick, perverted mind, Hercules; I enjoy hurting people.  Listening to Iolaus - dear, sweet boy - screaming his lungs out in the grip of those nightmare visions was ... exquisite ..." and Hercules nearly lost his breakfast at the sight of Hamon licking his lips and shivering in an explicitly sexual manner, as he temporarily indulged his memories.

When he'd got himself under control again, Hamon turned to Hercules and waved him out.  "You and Xena had better get going, Hercules, or you'll never catch up to your friends in time.  Oh and you'd better tell Xena to be prepared; the people in that enchanted little town aren't all they seem, so Gabrielle is in danger too ..."

"What do you mean?" demanded Xena, who'd broken free from her guards and forced her way into Hamon's throne room.

"You'll find out my dear," said Hamon sweetly, and then left, trailing two dozen guards behind him.

"We'll come back for you Hamon!!" she yelled after him.  "You'll wish I'd only killed you!!"

Hercules grabbed her arm, and pulled her towards the entrance again.  "Come on Xena; time's running out for Iolaus, maybe for Gabrielle too.  They're more important ..."

Swallowing hard, Xena nodded.  They left at a run, not prepared to stop until they found their two friends, both of them praying that they would be in time.

Chapter Nine

He could hear the echoes in his mind now; some place cool and restful, faint whispers soothing the tumult of his thoughts.  It was in here, somewhere in the midst of this forest, he could almost smell the water, feel the moisture on his skin ...

No longer feeling the pain in his guts, and ignoring the ache in his legs as he ran on, Iolaus only knew that his salvation lay somewhere before him, somewhere along the track he was following now; he almost recognised it, and sped along it joyfully, in anticipation of the relief that this cool, dim, watery place would give him.  There were others there just like him, who had suffered similarly, who would recognise one of their own and welcome him.  It would be like coming home ...

Almost ...

A vision of Hercules, followed by Gabrielle and then Xena, rose up in his mind's eye, unbidden; Gabrielle stepped forward offering him an open scroll.  He couldn't help but look at it, but then recoiled at the sight of the words, feeling sick as he realised their meaning, one word standing out boldy to taunt him; Chloe.

"NOOOOOOO!!!  NO, I can't, I can't, don't ... don't make me .... !!!"  and falling to his knees, covered his face with his hands, but still the vision remained in his mind.  The three friends parted and behind them Iolaus saw the bloody scene again, Dracus plunging into Chloe, blood streaming down her thighs, the crow of hideous victory as the rapist's movements only grew faster, deeper, and then the sound of her screams as they changed.   Echoed with the horrified and disbelieving realisation of death, her death; she was dying and she was overwhelmed by the knowledge of it ... her own death ...

Iolaus, heart pounding unnaturally fast as the vision overtook him and conquered his will, his spirit, fell writhing to the ground, the sounds issuing from his throat, that of a weary, trapped animal in inescapable pain.

Gabrielle, running unerringly in the right direction, heard the screams and adjusting her course just slightly, ran faster, until she burst through into the clearing, where Iolaus lay writhing on the leaf-strewn floor.

"Iolaus!!"  Rushing over to him, she reached for him, trying to grasp his hands, or arms to still him.  But it became obvious that he considered her some kind of enemy, as he fought her off, and lashed out, hitting her on the side of the head, knocking her to the ground.

When she came to, Iolaus had gone.  Searching the ground for any sign of where he could have gone, she almost missed a few strands of purple snagged on a berry bush, at waist height, a little way along one trail.  She instantly recognised them as coming from Iolaus padded purple jacket, and rubbing the side of her head, ruefully telling herself to be more careful in approaching Iolaus next time, set off after him.

Xena had no trouble in following the tracks left by Gabrielle and Iolaus, outside of Hamon's fortress-town; she knew that the two of them had indeed escaped in a wagon, from what she had managed to prise out of one guard before she was confronted by Hamon's advisor, telling her that Hamon had been expecting them both and that if she wanted to see Hercules alive again, she should stop fighting.

Once the wagon had taken a fork in the road toward Thrace, the two of them had left the wagon and Gabrielle had managed to get Iolaus a few yards across country before he collapsed.

"They stayed here for awhile and then the two of them took off in that direction," and she pointed off towards a nearby tree-lined hillside.  She could see exactly what had taken place; Iolaus' collapsing to the ground, the length of time he'd lain there.  She drew in a quick breath as she realised what else had occured between the two of them at this place, and looked quickly up at Hercules; but then, for some reason, decided not to mention it.  After all, it wasn't of any life-threatening importance.  Getting up, she wasted no more time on the site and began to follow the tracks again, only to be brought up short by the signs of Iolaus collapsing to a halt once more.

"What is it?" asked Hercules, already ahead of her.

"They stopped here again for a short while; then went on again, more slowly.  Iolaus was leaning on Gabrielle from here on," she concluded, following the tracks into the distance with her eyes, before she resumed her steady fast gait along the trail once more.  Catching up to Hercules, she caught at his arm as they went, making him look back at her.  "Hercules; you know that, even here, so short a distance out from the town,  Iolaus was already weakening.  You have to be prepared to -"

"NO!!"  The hand which caught her wrist in its grasp would have broken it, had it not been the Warrior Princess.  Whether it was true or not about her semi-divine blood, she was stronger than almost anyone the demi-god had ever known.  Nevertheless, he let go and pulled his hand back as if stung, when he realised how hard he had grasped her.  "I'm sorry, Xena, but ... he's not going to die, not again.  We have to get to him, now.  Now come on," and he gestured to her urgently to begin the chase once more.  Sighing and shaking her head at his stubborn refusal to accept the realities, she pointed off ahead of her, and started off in that direction, Hercules following at her heels like a desperate puppy.

Chapter Ten

He was so near now, that he could smell the water, and although his heart was pounding painfully in his chest he increased the pace until he came to the grown over edge of the huge well.  Falling to his knees, he sobbed out his grateful relief; soon now he would be with them, in the blessed waters and then he could forget ...

Having reached his goal, Iolaus found that his strength had disappeared with most of the torment, and could only edge closer to the lip of the well, pulling himself forward, inch by inch, with his hands.  It was only by virtue of this that Gabrielle came into sight of him, before he finally managed to lever himself far enough over the drop to just let go and fall.

"IOLAUS!!!"  She rushed forward, pushing herself on the last of her breath, and threw herself down at the lip, barely able to keep herself from falling into the gaping hole herself.  "Gods!!  Iolaus, can you hear me?"  She could see more by the movement of it's surface than by anything else, that there was water at the bottom of the shaft, and she thought she could see Iolaus down there, a shadowy shape, just floating, but that was all.  There was no reply to her cry.  She called out again.

"IOLAUS!!!  It's Gabrielle!!  Can you hear me, are you alright?"

Still no answer.  Searching the trees and foliage around her for vines that she might be able to twist into a rope, she unfortunately found nothing, and for a moment was unsure of what to do.  Iolaus could be dead or drowning down there.  However, if she threw herself in, with no way to get them both out again, that would only double the trouble.  She had to find some vines or get help.

Yes!  She could go back to the town and get help.  Someone there was bound to have some rope.  Leaning back over the lip of the well, she called down once more, in the hope that Iolaus could at least hear her.

"Iolaus!!  I'm going back to town to get help and some rope.  Just hang on, we'll soon have you out of there, don't worry!!"

She waited a few moments to see if any answer was forthcoming; silence was still her only answer and so she set off at a run once more, back the way she had come.

Iolaus meanwhile, was drifting in dreams again, but they were losing their nightmare edge and growing softer.  He could hear whispers all around him, but they didn't disturb him; rather they were comforting and they soothed his mind until he seemed to be just drifting in fluffy clouds.  He smiled, sleepily, barely able to remember why he was even there.  Not that he cared.  He just wanted to sleep, and could already feel himself drifting off.  It was so peaceful there ...

Peaceful, purple and peaceful.  Purple and peaceful.

Purple...?

It never struck her at first, just how helpful these people were, her only concern being to get Iolaus out of the deep well.  However, she - wound around with a huge length of rope, alike to every man that was with her - began to realise how much they were putting themselves out to help her and Iolaus, as they continued into the depths of the forest.  To a man, they had volunteered to go with her and help, with narry a complaint, when she knew that they had lives to get on with, work that had to be done; one man had a wife who was expecting a child at any moment, and he had been one of the first to volunteer.

"It really is great of you guys to help like this," Gabrielle puffed as she ran, turning to the man nearest to her, the town blacksmith.

"Not at all, young lady;" he reassured her.  "That's what we're here for."

It only came back to her later that that was what the midwife had told her ...

When it was too late ...

Arriving at the well, Gabrielle demanded to be sent down first to see if Iolaus was alright.  "He's my friend, and I need to know if he's still alive," she told them.

They argued against it, saying it was dangerous to even touch the waters of the well.  When they told her why, she was even more adamant that she should be the one to go down first.  In the end they agreed.

Her heart in her mouth, she peered into the depths as they lowered her slowly into the dark recesses of the damp, lichen-covered shaft.  She could see Iolaus now, floating on his back, but although his eyes were open, he still looked out of it, though no longer tormented.  In fact, he looked almost ... happy?

"Oh, gods, it's begun.  He's forgetting everything!!"  Looking up, she yelled up to the men to lower her even more, and to send another rope down.

She descended, but more rapidly than she would have liked; and there was no second rope.  Just a  'splash!'  as she hit the water, and the faint echoes of voices from the top of the shaft.  "Hey!!  What do you -"

The voices sounded like they were laughing ...

A woman's voice drifted down to her; it sounded like the woman they had first met.

"We wish you peace ..."

"Yeah, peace," came another voice - a man's.  "The peace of Lethe ..."

Then nothing.

Desperately, Gabrielle searched the damp, lichen-laden walls of the well for some way out of there, but there was nothing.  She swam over to the side and tried to grasp the growths, but it was slippery and anyway, came away in her hands.

Gods!!  What was she going to do?

Swimming back over to Iolaus, who was murmuring quietly to himself now, as were the others floating there - ten or more of them, women and men - Gabrielle bent close to try to catch what he was saying.

" ... I'm your friend ...  What does it matter? ...  Do you really not remember who you are? ... "

There was more, all intoned like a chant, as if the words had no meaning except the saying of them, but even so they sparked off a tiny ray of hope in her breast.  Hadn't Hercules lost his memory at some point, because of something Hera did?  Didn't she remember Iolaus telling her about that before?  She was sure he had mentioned something like that in one of the tales he had told her last time they met up ...

Chapter Eleven

"It's around here somewhere, Hercules, I know it is, I saw it from that hilltop back there.  Dammit, where is it!!?"

Xena stalked the thick forestland, constantly looking around her for any sign of the small town that she had spotted before.

Reaching out to her, Hercules stopped her for a moment.  "Hang on, Xena; Hamon told me that the town near the Well of Lost Souls was hidden from the eyes of men most of the time; that this forest was enchanted and belonged to an ancient people we know nothing of now."

"So?" urged Xena, exasperated.

"So, if we continue forward like this, we'll go probably go right past whichever path will lead us to the Well, and we'll be too late to save them!"

For an answer, Xena pointed to the forest floor.  "Their tracks are here, Hercules; we only have to follow them, don't we?"

Hercules ran a hand through his long hair and sighed with frustration.  "I guess you're right, Xena; you're the tracker here.  It's just that I hate this not knowing!  And not being able to be sure that we'll find them ... and, dammit, what was Iolaus doing anywhere near Hamon without me, in the first place!!

"Hercules, you said that Hamon had obviously planned all this, just to get you out of the way for awhile;" Xena told him, grabbing his arm and holding his eyes, to get his attention.  "You know how long we've been fighting Hamon, and we still haven't managed to come to grips with him.  He obviously knew just where to find Iolaus, so don't go blaming him for something he didn't do."

"Alright, I guess you're right about that too; it's just that it's the sort of crazy stunt Iolaus would try.  You know, trying to bring Hamon down on his own."

Instead of the rejoinder he was expecting, as they followed the tracks, Xena suddenly struck off on another tack.  "Hercules; you said that Hamon mentioned something about a girl and her grandfather.  That they were something to do with Iolaus.  How could he have known about that?"

"He ... said he ... he listened to Iolaus suffering ... under the effects of the drug," Hercules replied reluctantly.  He still had trouble imagining anyone doing that and deriving any kind of pleasure from it, as Hamon had.  "Maybe Iolaus ... said ... something ... "

"No, but Hercules, think.  He planned for Iolaus to go off to this Well of Lost Souls; you told me the drug, or poison he was given brought up nightmare images - memories buried deep because they're too painful to live with, to drive the victims mad?"

"Yes ... "

"So how did Hamon know that Iolaus had any such memories in the first place?"

Hercules hesitated, beginning to see the thread of her reasoning.  "I don't know; maybe he ... "

"Maybe he knew because he was there at the time;" Xena supplied for him.  "Maybe he was a part of that painful memory.  Considering his present occupation, I would say one of the less pleasant parts of it."

"That makes sense," agreed Hercules.  "But how does that help us now?"

"It doesn't.  At least, not now," Xena informed him.  The blood and fire in her eyes were trumpeting witnesses to where she was going with those thoughts, though.

"You're thinking about after ..."

"I think we need to find a very special kind of justice for Hamon when we get back ..." and the velvet covered steel in her voice sent a shiver down her companion's backbone.

"Xena, we -"

But her mind was already back on her task, and she was racing ahead of him.  "C'mon, Hercules ..." she called back to him.  "They went this way ..."

"He didn't know me ... and one of us was purple ...  Anyway, he forgot ... "

"Who ... who forgot?  Who are you?  Don't I ... blooop!"

"You gotta relax, keep your head above water ... whoever you are ...  What did you say your name was?"

"I didn't! ...  Did I?  I can't remember ..."

"Me either ..."

"Will you two shut up!!?  I'm trying to remember here ..."  An old man gave the two babblers a fierce glare and then floated on by.

Iolaus and Gabrielle, holding onto each other, were desperately trying to float on the surface, whilst the undercurrent of the water tried to pull at them.  The waters of Lethe were constantly draining away into the underworld, and were constantly replenished by the spring, so the well was never dry and always maintained a certain water level, but the current caused by the pull of the water as it left the well was a constant enemy, always threatening to take hold of them and drag them under.  It made it difficult to relax enough to float.

To keep themselves alert, they kept talking to each other, fighting off the dreams and the drowsiness.  Gabrielle already had forgotten who she was, and knew only that the man she was hanging onto, and holding the rather disconcerting conversation with was someone who seemed to remember something about someone he knew and something that had happened ... but he couldn't remember who he was either ... or why either of them were there ...

It was damn confusing.

And who were those darn fools overhead somewhere, shouting and ruining their concentration?

"Will you shut up and let us think straight?" she yelled up to them.  "Some of us are trying not to drown down here, you know ..."

"Oh, Gabrielle, it's me, Xena!!  Don't you remember?"

"No, now go away!"

"Iolaus!!  Can you hear me?"

Gabrielle looked on, puzzled as her floating companion looked up and seemed to show a spark of recognition in his eyes on seeing the tall man standing hovering on the lip of the well.  "Don't I know you from somewhere?"  The tall man seemed relieved and turned to the fierce black-haired woman at his side.  He mumbled something to her and then looked back down the well at them.

"Hang on, we're going to throw a rope down to you; don't worry, we'll have you out in no time ..."

The man in the water, whom the other man above them had called 'Iolaus', turned to her and seemed okay with the situation.  "I think that guy up there is the friend I was telling you about; he does seem familiar."

"Are you sure?" Gabrielle asked him, still confused.  "I still don't know why we're down here?  We'ren't we looking for something?"

"I don't remember ..."

"Xena, we have to get them out now, they're already losing their memories!"

"I know Hercules!!  If you'll just grab this end of the rope, I can get down there and start bringing them up ..."

Staring in panicked confusion at the end of the rope she was holding out to him, for a second, Hercules realised just what it was she was saying and feeling foolish, grabbed the rope and indicated with an embarrassed nod of his head, that she should start on down.

"Anyone would think it was you down there ..." she commented under her breath as she lowered herself over the lip of the well, and began to make her slip, sliding way down into the depths.

Hercules heard her, but biting his lip, said nothing.  He was more concerned with getting the well's captives free from the effects of the well's water.  After a minute or so, he felt a tug on the rope and he began to heave away, pulling up the first victim.  It turned out to be Gabrielle and Hercules was a little put out at that, as he knew for a fact that Iolaus was in physically worse shape.  "Xena!!" he yelled down.  "Why did you -"

The Warrior Princess was ahead of him, however.  "Gabrielle's lost more of her memory than Iolaus!" she sent echoing back up to him.  "For some reason, he can still remember you, even if he's not sure who you are!"

Untieing a puzzled but nevertheless, grateful Gabrielle, Hercules sent the rope back down.  "Never mind!  Just ... get Iolaus back up here, willya?"  He felt another tug on the rope and began pulling again.  He had expected to find Xena on the end of the rope, but the rope was too light, and only Iolaus appeared when Hercules pulled the end up over the lip of the well.  Xena was still down there, trying to persuade the old man that he would really rather be up in the light and air, than forgetting and eventually drowning, down there.  He struggled, but eventually she managed to get the rope around him and tugged again.

Hercules, his eyes drinking in the sight of an alive Iolaus, pulled on the rope automatically, almost shooting the old man into the air as he brought him up to the surface.

"Hey!  No need to be so agg...agre. agr... whatever .... I'm an .... a..."

"I think you're ... an ... let me see, yes, you're an ... old man ...  yes, that's right," supplied a blinking Gabrielle, who was cradling Iolaus in her arms, instinctively.  Hercules smiled.  Those two really did go together, somehow.  He could imagine them, later in life, when they're adventuring days were over, settling down together, raising a small horde of feisty, wonderful children ...

A small ache settled around Hercules' heart at that thought; it had to come.  Someday, Iolaus would no longer be able to carry on the way he had, and although their friendship would only deepen and never end, their partnership could not go on forever.  Iolaus was mortal.  There would come a day when Hercules would be unable to bargain with Hades for his life; it was every mortal's lot to die, eventually.

Hercules would not be able to keep him forever.  An idea began to form in his mind, one that he would act on, once the rescue was effected and Hamon was dead or in prison, and they were all back safe and sound, devouring his mother's home cooking.  For now, though, there were a whole bunch of very confused and wet people to rescue and get home ...

Chapter Twelve

"Don't ask me why I could remember you were purple, Herc -"

"Er ... that was you, buddy."

"Me!?  Why was I purple?"

"You fell in a wine vat."

"Oh.  Makes sense ..."

Gabrielle wrapped her arms around him and hugged him close.  "I'm just glad that you're - I mean, we're just glad that you're ... you know, okay.  And that you can ... remember who you are ... and who we all are ... and what was my name again?"

Xena stole an arm around her best friend's neck.  "Gabrielle ..."

"Ga - bri- elle ...  Are you sure?  Seems a bit clumsy to me ...  Am I really short, or are you just way too tall?"

Hercules looked down at her and then sunk down onto a chair so that he didn't tower over her so much.  "I'm ... way too tall!" he laughed, just happy that Iolaus had, once more, been pulled from the jaws of death.  He smiled across at him, delighting in the smile that his best friend had pulled out of somewhere, though Hercules knew that he was deathly tired.  He also knew that Iolaus would sleep only when he was damn good and ready.

Even though the waters of Lethe had relieved him of the torture of the memories summoned by Hamon and his hated poison, Iolaus had been in their grip long enough to instinctively fear falling asleep.  That was something else that Hercules would make sure Hamon paid for.

Their journey back to Corinth and his mother's house had been uncomfortable sometimes; Iolaus pacing tiredly, trying to keep awake, whilst the others were trying, equally unsuccessfully, to get to sleep.  Tired and irritable, harsh words had had to be bitten off and swallowed, until Gabrielle finally managed to persuade Iolaus to let her sleep with him, keeping him close in her arms.  It seemed that was the only way he would relax enough to doze off.

This left Hercules and Xena uncomfortably alone with each other's company.  They were, both of them, still very fond of each other, but had acknowledged the passing of the time when they might have forged a relationship of love.  Both knew that as the days passed they would eventually wind up alone, bereft of their companions.  Xena had never really discussed this with Gabrielle, but when she raised the subject with Hercules, she wasn't surprised to find that his vision of Iolaus and Gabrielle together, was narry so far from her own.

"They look like they'd welcome a little privacy," said Xena softly one night, trying to smother the catch in her voice.  Hercules raised his head and looked across at the two light heads, close in murmured, and what sounded like, fond conversation.  He and Xena had already moved a little away from their two friends, to the other side of the fire; now it seemed that that wouldn't be far enough, at least not tonight.

"I know; maybe we should move down to the other side of those bushes there ..."

"Hmm, I guess so.  But then, the fire's over here and if we're over there ..."

Hercules sighed.  "Well, we don't have to freeze our asses off, we've got blankets and we can ..."

"... Snuggle up the way they are ..."

"Well, not quite the way they are," Hercules replied, wondering how much hot water he was about to get into.

"Party pooper," drifted over to him as Xena deliberately bent straight-legged to pick up the blankets.  Hercules tried to pay attention to just where they were going to put those blankets, but the rising warmth in his nether regions was making that more than slightly difficult.

"Will you shut up!?" he admonished the wayward part of his anatomy quietly.  Not quietly enough unfortunately.

Drifiting the blankets to the ground, Xena leaned across and tugged on his pants to pull him down beside her, brushing across said wayward member, as she did so.  "Don't be like that Hercules; you don't let it out often, and I'll bet if gets fed up being stuck in there all the time with nothing to do ...."

"XENA ...!!"

"Oh, hush, Hercules, you'll disturb Iolaus and Gabrielle ..."

Meanwhile, back at the fire ....

"They've moved."

"I noticed that."

"D'you think they moved because of them, or because of us?"

"Dunno.  Because of us probably."

"Oh.  Well, should we ... tell them they can come back?"

"What do you think?"

"Well, if I know Xena, she's never been one to back out of an unexpected opportunity ... and it is likely to be colder over there ..."

"You mean we should leave them right where they are ?"

Iolaus smiled as Gabrielle's warmth snuck in a little closer until she was almost providing the services of a blanket.  A pleasantly wriggling blanket.  Her teasing eyes looked at him past her pert little nose, that looked like it would make a delicious appetiser.  "I think we should leave them exactly where they are ..." she told him, no nonsense, and reaching up just a little further, put herself in a perfect position for him to nibble the appetiser he had noticed earlier.  Her grin got wider, and her hands began to wander off across the menu to see what they wanted to taste first.

Ears?  Hmm, yes, she loved the curve of them, loved the way he squirmed when she teased her tongue inside and breathed, hot and slow ...  Then across his jaw and under his chin, where he was ticklish and his soft, high, breathy chuckle shot sunbeams all the way through to her heart, and she smiled against his skin, lips and tongue sliding all the way down to 'her pool', as she thought of it, at the base of his throat, where she nibbled and nuzzled until he moaned and pushed himself against her, his legs seeking hers, to twine and tangle.

About to turn her over, Iolaus suddenly gave a sharp gasp that had more to do with pain than pleasure, and sank back to the blanket.

"Does it hurt somewhere?" Gabrielle asked him, looking back at him to try and find the source of his pain.  He was clutching his side, and looking back at her apologetically.

"I'm sorry, Gabrielle, I guess it's a pulled muscle or something ... "

"It's okay," she told him, pulling away and diverting her attention she eased her hands along his ribs, dispassionately, massaging the offending part of his anatomy.  "Let's see if I can ease it for you.  Can you turn over?"

"Yeah, I ... I think so ..." and Iolaus turned onto his front slowly, favouring his right side.  There was no wound and no sign of bruising.

"I think you're right;" the petite blond told him, soothing her hands down and across his right side.  "There's nothing here; it's probably just a sprain.  All the same, you shouldn't go putting any undue stress on the area.  No lifting or pulling or pushing or anything like that, for awhile."

"Oh," came the muffled reply.  "Does that mean we can't ... you know?"

His slow smile returned when he felt her warmth return to cover his back and her warm breath in his ear.  "Maybe we could - let me do the work ... if we're slow ... and careful ..."

He turned slowly, under her body, her legs straddling him, to keep her in position.  Looking back up at her, he was warmed by the slow burn of her eyes on his, and he dragged his lower lip through his teeth at the promise they held for him, for both of them.  Running his hands slowly down her sides to rest lightly, but possessively on her hips, his thumbs just running up and down her lower ribs, he pulled her down to him, to meet his hungry mouth, open and moving and strong and slow; slowly tasting her tongue and moving over it, caressing it.  Then she was taking the control of the moment, smoothly, as he gave it over to her, and she just as slowly, just as strongly, was sucking on his tongue, over and over.

Her hands were pushing slowly at clothing, hers and his, but they wanted to be on his body, so he took up where she left off, the exchange almost unnoticeable.  His soft moans and gently rocking pelvis against her, flooded her with a smouldering heat which built slowly; pervading her entire being, until it seemed she had liquid fire in her veins.  She wanted him inside her, but she also wanted the slow patience they were needing to practice.  This was Iolaus, and her soul sprang from the same source as his; she didn't need the fireworks and screams.  There was a deep river running, which they both shared and they could just be together and need nothing else.

Once there were no clothes in the way any more, the touches began in earnest, but still slow, and considered.  Her hands on his shoulders, roving, caressing their strength, his mouth on her breast, tongue pushing softly across the nipple, slowly, slowly ...

Her hands in his hair, stroking through it, as if trying to push away all the evil that had beset his mind over the past week; her lips pressing lingering whisper kisses across his brow and softly down across his eyes.  His arms enfolding her, hands gentle on her back, already thanking her for her care of him ... her love of him; his full penis rubbing between her legs, over her clit, smooth and hard and strong, sliding in the wetness flooding out of her, massaging the tiny head of nerves, the incredible sensuality of him, stimulating her almost beyond bearing ...

Their breathing ragged now, somehow, they still kept the pace slow and even, until Gabrielle could bare it no longer and pushing down and back, took him inside her.

Needing to bury himself in her, Iolaus nevertheless fought himself to stillness, letting her work herself against him.  Her head went back and she tossed her hair in her passion, the soft cries in her throat, becoming stronger and more ragged, but then something seemed to twist inside her and opening her eyes, he saw such yearning in them that it poured tears into his eyes, and she collapsed into his aching arms and fixed her mouth to his and kissed him; kissed him as if the world was ending and these were the last moments they would ever have.

His whole world became warmth and passion and aching sadness; her mouth and tongue, and tears ... An explosion of heat and fire and light in the darkness, and sobs echoing in his mind, tearing at his heart ...

When oblivion gradually gave him back to awareness, he could hear Gabrielle's soft sniffles still, feel the wetness across his shoulder, where her tears had fallen.  Stroking his hands across her back, Iolaus waited until the sniffles had quieted into silence before speaking to her.

"Hey, Gabrielle ... are you okay?  Where did all that grief come from?  I don't normally get that reaction ..." he said, trying to inject a little lightness into the seriousness.

Her hand reached up and she caressed the side of his neck with her fingers; looking up at him with something approaching desperation, she tried to smile.  "I'm sorry.  It's just that ... it's like I saw my future, and for a moment you weren't there; you just weren't there, had never been there, and the whole world was different.  Hercules had killed himself years before, and Xena had blazed her name across half the continent; and I ... I felt like it was me against the whole world and no-one was listening, and people were dying everywhere, because they didn't know how to fight back ..."

Having expected some small, loving female inexplicability as an answer to his question, Iolaus was stunned by what she had said.  He gathered her closer to him and hugged her for awhile, the words ricochetting off odd corners of his mind, tangling with his own thoughts.  He began to work on just what exactly she had said:

Hercules had killed himself!!?

'...When Hera destroyed his family,' his own inner mind or conscience or whatever, supplied.  'If I hadn't existed, there would have been no-one to stop that rampage he went on.  He would have become what he so hated in Hera, and in his grief and madness, would have destroyed himself ...'

That would have left a world without Hercules ...

'...Yes, and no-one to check Xena's wrath.  She would have gone on and on in her conquests, growing stronger in her hatred and her lust for blood; and Gabrielle ...'

Gods, Gabrielle!!

'... Gabrielle would have had to face the madness of such a world alone, unaided, her pure heart struggling to survive in the face of all that evil and hopelessness ...'

Iolaus tightened his grip, unable to immediately neutralise Gabrielle's fears.  It felt very strange and a little scary, to see himself through her eyes this way.  Only she could have done it.  Only she ...

But she had saved him.  Stayed with him through his guilt and madness and brought him safely through to the other side; he found himself wondering what the world would be like without Gabrielle.  For a second or two, he wondered.  But it was no good.  That was one place he really couldn't go.  And would never have to.  Somehow he knew that, whatever happened, she would survive, even as he would.  She was sure they would have a future together, someday, even if, for a moment, she had seen something different.

Her soft breathing fluttering across his chest, had deepened to the point where he knew she was asleep.  He leaned down and kissed her hair softly, and gathering her a little more snugly against him, one hand reaching across to cover them with a blanket, he settled himself for sleep.

Chapter Thirteen

It had taken a few days planning, but eventually the trap for Hamon was baited and set.  Now all they had to do was wait.

"Are you sure he'll bite?" asked Gabrielle as she, Xena and Iolaus sat around enjoying a meal of venison stew and the local red wine.

"It's just his meat," said Xena, chewing hungrily on a haunch bone.  "The fruit crop has been rich this year, and the money's in.  Besides, it's in his territory; it's too good for him to pass up, you'll see."

Iolaus was silent, uncomfortable with the talk, too close as it was to a subject that he still hadn't come to grips with.  Hamon and the memories ...  And where was Hercules?

As if he'd heard the unspoken thought, the demi-god walked in the door at that moment and sat down to dive into what was left of the repast.  "It's very quiet out there right now."

"Too quiet?" Iolaus asked him, expecting calm before the storm.

"Nah, I don't think so; just nothing going on."  Hercules poured a cup of the wine and poured it down his throat at a go.

"Hot work all this waiting around," agreed Xena, also impatient to get started on this deal, her behaviour and body language, telling Gabrielle that the Warrior Princess was looking forward to bringing Hamon to justice.  She herself also wanted the job done, but she wasn't as eager as Xena or Hercules to tangle with the self-styled warlord.  It was something that had to be done and that was all.

It was also plain to her that Iolaus didn't share the same high level of enthusiasm as the other two; the reasons were obvious, at least to her.  Much as the agony of the nightmare memories had been taken from him by the waters of Lethe, he still had the knowledge of what had happened all those years ago, inside him, and the memories of what Hamon had done to him, drugging him and imprisoning him, for no reason other than that he wanted to use him to get Hercules out of the way.

He had no way of remembering now, whether Hamon had been part of the gang that had raped Chloe, but he was of the same opinion as Xena; that he had been, and that seeing Hamon again had somehow brought out the memories of Chloe and her grandfather that had plagued him into madness and almost into death.

That he had lost those memories now was a mixed blessing for Iolaus.  He was no longer burdened with the feelings of horrible guilt; but not to be able to remember what had happened and what he had done, had left him with the uncertain feeling that he should feel guilt of some kind, and now would never be able to strike hands with what had happened.  And he still needed to find out more about the village and the forest that was enchanted.  Had it been so, back when he had first met Chloe?  Or, like his grandmother's village, had it been put under a spell some time afterwards?  It was confusing, and the whole thing was preying on his mind more than he would have liked.

"Iolaus?"

"Hmm?"  He looked up from the reverie he had fallen into, to find his three companions smiling at him.  "What?"

Hercules put a friendly hand on his shoulder.  "You were miles away, there, buddy.  Everything okay?"

"Oh; yeah, yeah.  Just ... thinking ..." and he trailed off, still not feeling very talkative.

To Hercules that meant that there was something on his best friend's mind that he was in the process of mulling over, but wasn't ready to put into words yet, and he was best left to get on with it, under normal circumstances.  However, they might have to leap into action at any time now, and Hercules wanted to be sure that whatever Iolaus was thinking about wouldn't be something that would leave him vulnerable at a bad moment.

"C'mon;" he said, "let's take a walk.  I think we need to talk," and was pleased to see that his instincts were right when Iolaus got up from his place at the table and followed him out without protest, telling the other two that they'd be back in awhile, and to carry on with the preparations.

Leaning across the table, Xena bowed her head close in to Gabrielle's.  "What was that all about?"

"Oh, I think there are some things that Iolaus is still unhappy about, to do with the memories that the drug brought up - and that he lost in the well.  He just needs to talk them out with Hercules."

"Hmm.  He'll be alright?  I mean, ready to fight?"

"Oh, yes, I think so; it's just ..." and Gabrielle searched for a parallel experience in their own lives to try and explain what Iolaus had gone through.  "You know how I came to feel about Hope?"

Xena just nodded, her eyes a little wary.

"Well, it's like he knows he's done something he should feel guilty for, but he doesn't; and it just doesn't feel right to him.  There's no-one left now, to ask forgiveness of, and he's afraid he'll never really be able to accept it and move on.  I think that's it."

"I can see how that would worry him," Xena agreed.  "Iolaus is an honourable man.  Besides, losing memories, any memories ... you're losing part of yourself."

It was Gabrielle's turn to nod silently.  Their own bad times had been hard on both of them and for awhile they just sat in silence, finishing off the wine and brooding over memories of their own.

"Iolaus?  Just what did happen all those years ago?  I mean, I know you would rather forget about it, but this amount of brooding ... it isn't like you.  Come to think of it, it's more my style."  Hercules wiped a hand across his brow to wipe away the sweat that had accumulated at his hairline, due to the day's sudden heatwave, and looked at Iolaus from under his whispy bangs.  His best friend was wrestling with some demon, it looked like, and he would need all his concentration if they were to trap Hamon successfully, without any casualties.

Iolaus looked around,  checking to see that they were alone and then made his way over to a wall at the back of the nearby barn, where the villagers kept their stores of hay for the market animals, as well as excess cereals for sale.  Heaving himself up on the wall, he gestured for Hercules to do the same, and then began chewing on a piece of long grass.

"Look, Herc, I don't exactly remember what I did; that well really does work, ya know."

Hercules nodded, taking that as a given.  "I know; I could tell just from the way Gabrielle was going on, when we hauled her out.  But you remembered more than she did, didn't you?"

"Yeah; well, you know that.  I remembered you, when you lost your memory.  Anyway ... the thing of it is ... I can't remember what I did, but I still know that I did it.  From what Gabrielle tells me, I wasn't to blame for Chloe's death - at least not directly - but it seems like I ... well, it seems like I killed a guy."

"He was one of the gang ..."

"He was the one who actually ... killed her, the way Gabrielle says she pieced it together, yeah."

"Well, you probably shouldn't beat yourself up over that, Iolaus.  And anyway, it was a long time ago; just think of all the good you've done since then.  That has to more than make up for that."

"I ... I think I killed him with my bare hands."

Iolaus seemed more than a little discomforted it by this, and Hercules wondered if there wasn't something Iolaus wasn't saying.  "Iolaus ..."

"Herc, I had a dream last night; it's not something I could remember, but I think it was so bad that it ... I don't know, marked me, somehow, so that I never could forget it, not completely."

"What was the dream?"

"It was Dracus.  I was ... "

"You were what!?  C'mon, Iolaus, spit it out, that's why we're out here!"  A large, warm hand descended gently on to the smaller, sturdy shoulder and squeezed briefly.  "Besides; if you can't tell me, who can you tell?"

A breath, a pause.  Then,

"I was tearing him apart.  Like a joint of meat.  And I was enjoying it ..."  Iolaus looked pale and as if he was about to be sick; Hercules knew how he felt.  He couldn't imagine his best friend doing something like that.

"Look, Iolaus; I'm sure that was just in the dream.  You couldn't do that to anyone, but since you can't remember, it's like you to imagine the worst, and for that to come out in a dream to accuse you.  I really don't think it could have been that bad."

Iolaus sighed and shook his head, looking unsatisfied with his friend's assessment of his unknown behaviour.

"C'mon, Iolaus, don't do this to yourself ..."

"Ah, Herc, it's not just that, it's ..."

"Now what?"

"It's the old man."

This was a little too askew, too quickly for Hercules.  "What old man?"

"Chloe's grandfather.  He blamed me for falling in love with her and being irresponsible in my behaviour around her and ... well, I guess I was."

"What do you mean, Iolaus?  I know you can be a little reckless, but I've never known you put anyone but yourself in danger, ever."

Iolaus hung his head, and sighed.  He was obviously searching for the right words to make himself understood.  Hercules held onto his impatience and waited until the hunter was ready to tell him the crux of the matter.

Even then, he stumbled a little, over the words.  "I ... see we ... The gang caught us ... off-guard ..."

Seeing the slight blush rise in Iolaus face, Hercules was able to make a rough guess what he meant by that.  "O-oh-kay ...  How 'off guard'?"

"Very off guard.  They knocked me out while I was still trying to get my pants on.  The next thing I know I could hear Chloe screaming, and ... Herc, I couldn't stop them, I couldn't stop him, and he was killing her!  Raping her and it was killing her and I could hear it, her dying screams, I can't ever forget them, oh gods!!  and the old man was beside himself with grief, she was all he had, and it was my fault, I should never have gone anywhere near her, having shopped them in the first place, I should've known they'd take it out on me somehow, I should've seen it coming, but I didn't, and I couldn't ever make it up the old man, and now he's dead and I've lost my chance ... Herc, I ran!  I ran from that place and left that old man to die, alone and angry and sad and -"

"Iolaus!!"  Hercules took hold of Iolaus' arms, unconsciously reinforcing the grip that Iolaus had taken on Hercules once the confession started to pour out of him. "Iolaus, that's not something that Gabrielle has told you; you're remembering that!"

Iolaus' tirade ground to an untidy halt as he realised that Hercules was right; he could actually see the memories now.  How in tartarus ...

"ARES!!  Ares, is this your doing!!?"  Hercules, having jumped down off the wall, was yelling to the empty air, as if he expected the god of war to pop out from behind a tree somewhere.

Suddenly they were surrounded by fifty men, all armed, all vicious-looking.  Hamon strode into view.  "Hallo, Iolaus; you're big friend managed to rescue you, I see.  What a pity you two didn't make all your preparations a little more quietly.  I'm afraid I'm not going to be walking into that nice little trap that you've set for me, any time soon; or even any time.  Get 'em boys!"

The fifty men all rushed forward, waving swords, pikes, clubs, knives ...

Unfortunately for them they had underestimated the strength of the two men's hatred of what Hamon was and what he stood for.  Righteous indignation lends strength, even where there is little.  And neither of them were weak in the first place.  Hercules on his own took out thirty of them.  Iolaus took out fifteen.  Once the rucus was noticed by villagers working out in the fields, and they had gone back to the tavern and told Xena and Gabrielle, and they had gotten there to help, there were only five left for them to polish off.

Once the troops were dealt with, they began looking around for Hamon.  Gabrielle found him hiding in a pit that his own men had dug to keep Hercules and Iolaus in.  It seemed appropriate somehow.

He was waiting there as if he had wanted it all along ...

A sword in each hand, he was backed up against the far side of the pit, just staring up at them, grim determination on his face.

"It's all over, Hamon," Xena called down to him, sheathing her own sword, not even bothering to take any kind of position against him, defensive or aggressive.

"Not quite, Warrior Princess; I see you got your little bard back in one piece.  Does she remember you though?"

"Oh yeah, pal, no worries," Gabrielle cut back, hefting her war staff in her hands.  "I remember Xoni here, just fine," mischief doing more to demonstrate her complete memory than the deliberate slip of the tongue.

"Gabrielle ..."  The familiar sigh in the voice.  Gabrielle just looked over at Xena and grinned.

"And Iolaus only lost the memories that he wanted to lose," added Hercules, getting ready to jump down into the pit to tackle the man.  Hamon couldn't keep the disappointment from his face, and Hercules smiled.  Another bad guy's comeuppance.  "I think it's about time you made the acquaintance of the local magistrate, Hamon," and Hercules was about to jump down into the pit, when Iolaus stopped him, holding onto his arm.  "Iolaus?  What - you want to take him in?  Be my guest," gestured the demi-god, happy to let Iolaus take the man in himself, if that was what it took.

But Iolaus held back, disquiet in his face, and he shook his head.  "No, you do it, Herc; I don't want to look at him anymore," and with that, Iolaus turned and began to head back to the village, too fast.  He couldn't say what it was that was driving him away from Hamon, but it was something big and uncomfortable and he couldn't get a handle on it.  Wasn't sure he wanted to, at least, not right then.  He heard a laugh, hard and uncouth behind him and it just pushed him faster.

"That's right, hero, you run away!  You gonna be sick?  You should!  After what you did to my brother, you should!  You should be the one going to prison, not me!!  You hear me, hero?  It's all your fault, hero, all of it, because of what you did to my brother!!  Did you tell 'em yet!!?  HUH!!?  Did you TELL 'EM!!!?"

The words penetrated and froze him to the spot, twenty yards down the trail back to the village.  By the end of Hamon's tirade, he had his hands over his ears.  Hercules, concerned by his friend's reaction, had gone after him and when he caught up to him, he saw wide, horror-filled eyes, set in a pale face.  Iolaus looked like he really was going to be sick.

"YOU REMEMBER THAT, HERO!!?"  Hamon's final yell drove Iolaus to his knees.  Hercules could see that Iolaus did indeed remember something.  Gabrielle had caught up to the two of them, whilst Xena was keeping an eye on Hamon, still in the pit.

"Hercules?  Is Iolaus alright?"

"I don't know, Gabrielle; he's been remembering stuff that Lethe had made him forget.  That shouldn't happen ..."  Looking back at the hunter, who was on his knees now, tears glinting on pale cheeks.  "Iolaus?  What is it, what did he -"

"I did tear Dracus apart with my bare hands, Hercules; when I found him afterwards, in the woods ..."

Iolaus was all too aware of the confused and concerned looks he was getting from his two friends and wanted nothing more than to be consumed in the earth so they wouldn't have to see his shame.  But he also knew that there was nothing he had done, nothing he could do, that would make them turn away from him; they loved him too much - he understood that.  So he faced them with the worst of himself; truth so bad he hadn't been able to admit it to himself almost since it had happened.  Their gazes remained steady; they didn't turn away, and he gained strength from that support.  Once the words had begun, he found that  he couldn't stop them ...

"I couldn't stop myself; I didn't see a human being, it was some demon ...  Some slavering beast that raped Chloe, over and over ... until she died from it ..."

The few tears of horror and shame at the memory of his dealing with Dracus, were followed, thick and fast, by others now, as the memory of Chloe's death screams filled his mind once more.  He seemed to collapse in on himself and Gabrielle knelt at his unresisting back to hold him steady against the sobs which shook his suddenly frail-seeming frame.  Hercules was ready to call a halt to the proceedings and return to the pit to take Hamon prisoner, leaving Iolaus to be comforted by Gabrielle, but despite his distress, Iolaus was determined to finish his confession, once and for all.

"I left him there, Hercules; I did what something inside me had to do, and then I went back to the field to retrieve Chloe's body.  I took her back into the village, and I tried to explain what had happened.  They said I was a hero, taking on Dracus like that ..."

The disgust he felt as he said those words, radiated from every pore of his body, and, heat flashing through him, he was soon violently depositing his lunch in the bushes.

Once his stomach was empty, and he returned to them, Hercules decided that enough was enough and fixed Iolaus with a determined eye.  "Iolaus, you said you didn't see a human being in Dracus; I think that's because there wasn't one there for you to see.  That's one of the things you have always been able to do, my friend, for as long as I've known you; recognise humanity.  No-one could do what Dracus did, without having already lost whatever humanity they had possessed.  You saw a demon because that's what it was, my friend.  You shouldn't beat yourself up about this."

However, instead of the relief that Hercules had expected to see in his friend's face, the pain and the shame were still there.  "Hercules ... I used my bare hands to tear him apart.  No matter whether it was man or demon; what does that say about me?"

"Iolaus ... "  Hercules struggled for words, understanding now, what Iolaus was going through, but still believing it to be unnecessary.  "You talked about something inside you, making you do this, that you couldn't stop yourself.  Perhaps this was just the fates using you to exact the justice that this demon had coming.  I'm sorry you had to be the one to mete it out, but ... if it hadn't been you, it might just as well have been someone else; someone even less well equipped to deal with it than you."

Iolaus nodded slowly, and was able to return the demi-god's gaze equably enough.  "But there is one more thing, Herc; Hamon was his brother, and it was all that time ago ...  he would have only been a youngster when he lost him.  That's what I was trying to tell you.  When the villagers searched the woods, looking for ... his remains ...  they found nothing, just some bloody trails leading deeper into the woods.  They figured, animals maybe ..."

"So Hamon never got the chance to say goodbye to his brother, or to bury him," guessed Gabrielle, cutting through to the heart of the matter.

Iolaus nodded, looking back at her gratefully.  "That's it.  I guess, in a way, I helped create the monster that Hamon later became. "

"Like Xena with Callisto ..."  Gabrielle became pensive as she thought about the endless problems that the monster goddess had created.  She also pondered more practical concerns.  "Iolaus, were you armed when you went after Dracus?"

"I ... I don't remember.  I don't think so ..."

"No sword, no knife, bow, nothing?" added Hercules, seeing where Gabrielle was going.

"No.  There was nothing ...  They didn't have anything, and I ... I wasn't armed when they found us ..."

"So how else were you expected to take out a creature like that!?  Something that would do that to another human being ... if you hadn't used your rage to kill him, he might very well have killed you;" Hercules figured out.  "And then who knows how many more people he would have harmed and killed?  There's no need to feel guilt over any of this Iolaus.  As for his brother ... If he'd had Dracus' example to learn from, then it's a fair bet that Hamon had already had his heart twisted.  It might even be that his brother's death only gave him another excuse to hate."

"But he was a child ..."

"Well he isn't now, Iolaus.  And you've lost people you loved before now and it never turned you into a monster," Gabrielle reminded Iolaus.

He still wasn't happy with the state of his conscience, however.  "I feel like, for that moment, it did," he told her.  He was calmer now, and began to walk back to the pit.  "I am not proud of what I did, and I can't think about it without hating myself, guys, so I guess I'm just going to have to live with it.  It won't be the first time ..."

"Iolaus -" and Gabrielle moved to go after him, still willing to argue the toss, but Hercules held her back.

"He'll be alright, Gabrielle; that's about as good as you'll get from Iolaus.  I've never known anyone beat himself up over stuff the way he does."

"Well, I guess I know how that feels," the young woman agreed, "but I wish he wouldn't ..."

"I know; it gets to me too," Hercules confessed.  And there was something else bothering him now.  "You know, that forest is dangerous.  If it keeps appearing and disappearing like that, being enchanted, others could get caught up in it, in it's village, and its inhabitants.  We need to do something to warn people about it ..."

"Don't worry," Gabrielle reassured him.  "Xena and I will warn everyone we meet; every town and village that we help or pass through."

"And we'll do the same,"Hercules agreed.  "C'mon," he urged her, taking her arm and walking with her after the hunter.  "We've got a monster to cage ..."

Chapter Fourteen

"Have you ever thought about it, Hercules?  I mean, that there'll come a day when those two won't be able to help us anymore?"

The look on the Warrior Princess' face was enigmatic, but Hercules could see the anticipation of the pain, that such a loss would cause her; no Gabrielle at her side anymore.  He couldn't bring himself to seriously consider what it would be like to no longer be able to rely on his partnership with Iolaus; his friendship and understanding, his light and love.  He had already lost that more than once in the past, and even just once had been one time too many.  The demi-god knew that he would do anything, sacrifice anything, to keep the golden hunter at his side for always.

But now there was something in Xena's face that told him that that was wishful thinking only: what he wanted simply wasn't possible.  There would come a time when Iolaus would have to abandon the road, the adventures and Hercules, leaving the son of Zeus no choice but to continue in his good deeds alone.  His one hope was that he would be able to relinquish his best friend into good hands; and he could think of no better hands than those of Gabrielle.

He, along with Xena, watched the two of them, off up the road aways, saying their goodbyes, holding each other close and tight, rocking slightly in each other's embrace ...

...  "Will you be okay?" Gabrielle asked him, hugging him close, running her hand comfortingly across his back.  She felt the silk of his hair move against her neck, as he nodded.

"Yeah, don't worry about me; and remember what I said," Iolaus reminded her, pulling back to look into her face.

"You mean about us, and 'our heroes'!"  She laughed.  He joined her.

Then, unwilling to let go quite yet, they just went back to holding each other; rocking ... rocking ... rocking ...  In memory of other dreams ...

... "They look good together, don't they?" murmured Xena whistfully.  "Their children will have hair that blinds you ..."

She was crying, and she looked confused by it; Hercules just put his own arms around her, and understood perfectly.  She cried for Solan, whom she had lost, and for the life that would never be hers; could never now be for either of them.  Gabrielle was the only family she had left and he could well understand the need for Xena to cling to her, but even more, to love her, even if that meant, one day, having to let her go.

He looked back at Iolaus over the top of the raven head so close to his own now, and realised that he was in just that same situation.  A pain, as sharp as any poisoned arrow's tip, shot through his chest, and his heart cringed in shock.  Xena looked up at him.

"Hercules ..."

"Sssh, it's nothing, Xena; it'll pass."

She hugged him a little closer.  "Like a nightmare ..."

"Yeah, just like a nightmare.  And then it's morning and you wake up, and everything's okay."

He kept on looking, filling his eyes with the sight of Iolaus, alive and whole and himself, still.  Or should that be ... once more?

He got him back.  Again.  One more time, he was lucky, he got him back.  But one of these days the nightmare would be real ...

And morning would never come again.

The End

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