This story is not intended to violate any copyrights held by MCA, Universal Studios, or Renaissance Pictures concerning Hercules: The Legendary Journeys. This story is for fun and no money was made from it.
Hercules wished he wasn’t so big. Big was bad and he was big. He was six and was bigger than boys twice his age. And strong. He could already lift bags of feed for his mother or pull a loaded cart. The only real friend he had was Iolaus. At least Iolaus wasn’t afraid of him or called him names.
Iolaus walked slowly down the dirt road, toward Hercules’ house. He was almost nine, now, but small for his age. He had developed a head of wild, thick blond curls and a beautiful face for a boy. A face that his father, the General, found an affront.
That was one reason, as he walked, he fingered his left eye. It was already swelling shut from the blow the General had delivered earlier in the day. Iolaus hadn’t moved fast enough to please his father and the man had lashed out, hitting Iolaus in the face.
“Maybe a black eye will put some character in that pretty face, runt.”
The blow had knocked Iolaus to his knees, at his father’s feet. Despite all he could do, Iolaus could feel the tears falling from his eyes, landing on the floor as he hung his head. The General had grabbed him by his shirt collar, hauling him to his feet.
“Pretty little crybaby.” He shouted as he shook Iolaus. “Little, worthless, crybaby runt.”
Dragging the terrified boy to the front door, he had tossed him effortlessly into the yard and slammed the door shut. Iolaus had dragged himself to his knees, unsure what to do. His father wasn’t due to leave again for at least a week and Iolaus had no wish to stay around for the next go round with him.
So, that was how he found himself on the road to Hercules’ house. Timidly, he knocked on Alcmene’s front door, waiting. He had no idea what to do, but he knew she would help him.
”It’s all right, Alcmene.” Iolaus tried to comfort her as she put a cold, wet rag on his eye. Tears shown in her eyes and her hands shook as she held the cloth. Hercules sat silently beside his friend, almost in tears. Sometimes, because of his size, it was hard to remember he was only six.
“How did this happen?” She asked, a note of anger in her voice.
“I ran into a door,” he lied.
Alcmene snorted and started to ask if this door had a fist, but then she saw Hercules, his eyes as large as saucers.
“I see,” she answered. “Well, I think it might be a good idea for you to stay here for a while, until your mother can get rid of that door.”
Iolaus smiled at her, gratefully. She kissed the blond on the cheek and ran her hand through his hair.
Later, as they lay in Hercules’ room, both boys were unusually quiet. Iolaus had his own bed now, pushed up under the only window in the room. On this night, he stared out the window, watching the stars shine in a cool, clear sky. Suddenly, he felt the covers lift and Hercules slip into the bed beside him. They were really too old to be sleeping together, but on this night, Iolaus needed Hercules near. He wondered if what his father said about him was true. He had begun to doubt himself, even at his young age. He needed Hercules. Hercules looked up to him, saw something in him that no one else did. Hercules looked up to Iolaus, even if he had to look down to do it. In his eyes, Iolaus could do no wrong.
“I’m all right, Herc. It’s just a black eye.”
Hercules put a large arm around his friend.
“You’re my only friend, Iolaus. I’m lonely without you. Please don’t leave me.”
Shocked, Iolaus looked at Hercules. Tears were running down his cheeks, wetting the pillow. He patted the arm lying across his chest.
“I won’t, Herc. No matter what, we’ll always be friends. When we’re old, like your mother, we’ll still be friends. In fact, we’ll be heroes. You and me. We’ll fight back to back, always, battlefield heroes. How’s that?”
But Hercules had already fallen asleep, his thumb in his mouth. Iolaus sighed. He always did that when he was scared or upset. He knew he was destined to spend the night on his back with Hercules’ massive arm across his chest, getting kicked in the legs by Hercules. But, he wouldn’t be anywhere else, right now, with anyone else. And, he knew in his heart, the future, his future, lay in Hercules’ hands. His destiny was entwined with Hercules.
His future and his destiny would be glorious. Hercules would see to that.
finis
Melinda is not online at this time, but if you would like to give her feedback on this story, email it to me, Quiet Wolf, and I will pass it on to her.
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