#bdrpgeorgette

[gothedistance-herc]

Every Mile Will Be Worth My While ⚡ [Hercette]

In which after Hercules hurts Adella, he makes a decision with the help of the Fates...[takes place: idek honestly, late august??]

@perfectisme-georgette

[tw: talk of blood, injuries, self-hate, mentions of sexual assault, arguing]

HERCULES: Hercules stumbled home in a daze. He was sure any minute the police would be after him. If not for blatant injury, then death. He was sure that he had killed Adella. His mouth was dry, his hands were shaking. He felt like he was going to be sick. Once he managed to get his key through the door (literally, he accidentally shoved his fist through the keyhole, blasting out part of his door), he fell into the house and collapsed in a chair, immediately putting his head between his knees.

He didn’t know how long he sat like that for before he heard Georgette’s voice. She must have opened the door when she noticed it wasn’t locked (due to the huge hole.) 

Shit. He’d forgotten that they were going out to dinner tonight. 

“Shit,” he said out loud, jerking up as if someone had prodded him with a taser. His hands were still bloody. His face and shirt too. He stood up, scrambling back like an injured, abandoned dog might. Forgetting that his girlfriend was nearly indestructible. All he knew was that he could feel his own power pumping through his veins and knew that it was out of his control right now. Which meant he couldn’t, shouldn’t touch anyone. 

“Just--just stay over there,” he basically pleaded with her. 

GEORGETTE: Georgette was looking forward to her dinner with Hercules. She was even thinking of skipping the wh loool ole dinner part and just hopping straight into dessert. Hey, she was already undead, she figured she should enjoy all the best parts about it.

At least, those had been her original thoughts that were now quickly vanishing out of mind as her eyes fell over the broken through door knob in front of her.

There was a sickening feeling that began to gnaw at the pit of the blonde’s stomach, something felt wrong… and she immediately opened the door.

There was Hercules fully upright, frightened with big skittish eyes and covered in crimson red blood. An immediate rush of concern filled Georgette as she dropped her purse and walked up close to Hercules in a sprint.

Georgette had heard his plea, but she was far too shocked by the blood and clouded by fear that he was hurt that the plea hadn’t registered. All she cared about was knowing if Hercules was okay.

“Hercules, are you okay?! You’re- you’re covered in blood! Are you hurt?! Did you get hurt?! What happened?”

HERCULES: Georgette got closer and Hercules froze, becoming stiff as a board. He felt his heart, even, freeze in his chest. Terrified of hurting Georgette. He knew that he could. He didn’t remember her own strength and magic now, all he remembered was pulling her broken body from beneath the tree trunk. In just a flash, Hercules was pulled back to that moment. That agonizing moment. The pain flashed through him like a lightning bolt and he stumbled backwards, away from Georgette.

He tripped over the coffee table, smashing it to pieces as he stumbled and tried to regain his balance again. “Stay away!” he repeated, his voice tight as a violin string. Tears flooded his eyes, blurring her figure in front of him.

“It happened a-again,” he choked out. “I-I hurt someone. I’m--I’m always hurting someone.” 

He bowed his head and scrubbed at his face. He didn’t deserve to cry. 

“And it will keep happening, as a matter of fact,” came a voice that was at once foreign and familiar to him. 

Hercules blinked the tears out of his eyes and then, they widened as he noticed three women, with cloaks like smoke, sitting in his living room. Clotho, in her square glasses, was poking through the rubble of the coffee table. Lachesis was standing next to Georgette as if she were sizing her up. And Atropos was lounging in the armchair lazily. It was her who spoke next:

“Yes, it would do you good to learn some tact.” 

GEORGETTE: Hercules had all but stumbled on his own feet and landed sprawled on the floor breaking the coffee table with him. Georgette knew that he was still pushing her away and even still her immediate reaction was to approach closer and get down to his level the minute he had hit ground.

She was never good at listening especially when what asked of her was not something she wanted and in this case, all she wanted was to comfort Hercules.

This other person that was supposedly harmed was not even a concerning thought for Georgette, honestly, they didn’t even cause a blimp in her thoughts all she cared about was making sure Hercules knew she was here for him.

He wasn’t a monster to her like she was sure he was feeling of himself right now.

Tears began to coat the skin of Hercules’s cheeks and they made her heart ache and her chest bruise. Georgette very gently caught the rest that continued to spill from those beautiful dark chocolate eyes she has grown to love so much with the pad of her thumb. She inched herself closer to place a very soft kiss on Hercules’s forehead.

“Oh Hercules I’m su-” Georgette wasn’t able to complete her sentence stunted by the sudden feeling of a presence beside her. Turning her head,  just to make sure that she wasn’t going crazy, sure enough there was someone or something…? Right up next to her! 

Georgette immediately jumped right up, caught completely off guard and now staring at three women of the likes of which she has never seen before. (That was saying a lot since she has been through the Underworld)

“Who- who the fuck are they?!”

HERCULES: The feeling of the kiss was still lingering on Hercules’ forehead as he blinked and tried to register the fact that the Fates were standing in his damn living room. For a second, Hercules’ gaze jumped around. Looking for Hades...or maybe Ashton Kutcher to jump out somewhere and tell him that he was being punked.

The Fates didn’t show up in just anyone’s living room.

Hercules was just anyone. He had always felt like a just anyone, even with his powers and how he hurt people. He was still just a just anyone. 

Except he wasn’t.

Son of Diana. Demon. Demi-god. Amazon.

“Aren’t you going to introduce us to your pretty little friend?” pouted Lachesis, standing up with Georgette and reaching out to tug on a piece of her hair playfully. 

“Introduce us and you’re one more step on the mend.” This was a command from Clotho.

Hercules cleared his throat. “Er, yeah--these are the...Fates,” Hercules stammered, clearing his throat. “Clotho.” Her eyes glinted behind her glasses. “Lachesis.” She gave a little bow. “And Atropos.” She waved her scissors lazily at Georgette.

“They’ve come to help...I think. I have met them once before when you--”

“Died. So sad. So pretty. It was never supposed to happen, what a pity.” That was Atropos, her voice lilting like she was singing an advertising jingle. She laughed afterwards.

GEORGETTE: Let this important fact be noted: Georgette did not like people touching her hair, especially strangers she didn’t know a lick about. Don’t touch her hair unless you are someone she cares about and honestly that list stretched out to like three people only. Don’t touch her hair, she will verbally assault anyone who was so stupid enough to do so.

That being said, one of the Fates was currently touching her hair and a verbal assault should have followed except that Georgette was currently standing motionless and quiet.

The Fates. 

The Fates were currently standing in Hercules’s living room.

See, Georgette knew of the Fates, in the mythological sense. Her mythology was pretty on point and has only gotten more so advanced with Hercules. They would spend time together where Hercules would share mythological stories with her and she would love the excitement in his voice and the spark that would catch his eyes whenever he did. 

So, she knew of the Fates, but she often got this picture of three old shrew women who own like three pieces of yarn for hair and passed a mythical eye ball around to share in her mind.

That was not at all what she was seeing now. 

Thankfully, or rather un-thankfully really, one of the Fates had said something that immediately erased all of the shock that had settled on her features switching them over to one of a stuck nerve.

“Thank you for that recount of my death, I wasn’t at all very personally aware of it.” She snapped sarcastically. 

It probably wasn’t the best idea to throw attitude at three immortal beings who controlled the very tapestry of your life, but they had aggravated a very personal chord and Georgette had an exceptional temper.

“What are you doing here?” 

HERCULES: If Hercules wasn’t in the middle of a near-to-full-on break down, maybe he would’ve laughed at Georgette’s peevish attitude towards the Fates. He wasn’t surprised by it, even through the haze of his self-loathing, he could recognize that. He wished there was room for the fondness that he was sure he felt deep down beneath the panic. 

All the fates found it amusing, apparently, as they tittered with their dark and ghoulish chuckles that sent shivers up the spine. 

“We’ve come to help, do not doubt us. Listen close, you’ve no reason not to trust.” They chanted it in unison like the choruses of old.

Hercules laughed once, humorless, but he sat up so that his elbows hooked around his knees. “Well, you can’t make anything worse.” 

“You must go to the land of your mothers,” they recited, “and once you’re there--seek their guidance. It is only through them that your powers manifest and you have a chance.”

Hercules stared and then he stared some more. He knew that they spoke of his birth mother. Someone he tried not to think about often. The wound was still fresh. The confusion over who he was and what it meant was fresh. He hated her, in a way, for damning him to this life due to her own selfishness, but Hercules was too soft to really hold that hate in his heart. So, he pushed it out and ignored it.

But now: the Fates were telling him that she was the key.

“The--Amazons? You want me to go to the Amazons?” 

“We know you’re thick, but we thought you were more quick.”

Hercules scoffed. “Thanks. I can’t just go to the Amazons. What makes you think they’ll even listen? Or want to train me?”

“That is for you to decide, we do not see why they cannot coincide.” 

“Great.”

GEORGETTE: The Fates wanted Hercules to ask the Amazons for help?! They wanted him to return back to the Underworld and ask the very people who had left him out in this world like some worthless dog without warning or guidance as to what he was going to face?!

Georgette hadn’t even realized when she let out a steely and very unrelenting no. 

That was the thing about Georgette, she often spoke before she thought and when angry even more so. It wasn’t something she was planning to change about herself either. She had already learned what staying quiet could do to you. She had stayed quiet once about her rape and look at how that had left her later on in life. 

“No.” Georgette repeated clearly so if the Fates didn’t get it the first time they were definitely going to get it now.

“You want Hercules to return back to that god-forsaken hell hole?!” 

Quite literally and she had every right to call it as such since she had gone through the Underworld herself. She still remembered every bit of it, every ounce, second, minute and hour of that journey back to the world above. Georgette had images of the Underworld seared into her brain and she had gone through the Underworld once. Hercules had gone through it twice and these fucking hags wanted him to live through that some more?!

“To ask those heartless, barbaric bitches for help?! The same ones that left him to fend for himself in the fucking first place! Those same sorry excuses for beings that knew exactly what he was and didn’t give two flying fucks. If they didn’t care the first time why they hell would they care now? What, would you like Hercules to get on his knees too and beg for that help even though they are the reason for all of it!” 

Georgette was seething. 

None of it was fair. 

Hercules had gone through so much already. He has gone through enough, gone through more than the average person has in a lifetime and the Fates wanted him to do this? Like-like if he wasn’t worth some dignity? Or worth being treated right? 

“Did I get this all straight?” She snarled.

HERCULES: Georgette went off.

It didn’t surprise him. Georgette was always going off about something. He found this quality endearing most of the time. She was passionate and he loved that about her. He appreciated her standing up for him, because he could never find it in him to stand up for himself. She had always been good about not making him feel like a monster, like someone worth forgiveness and someone worth protecting. (People didn’t think he needed it, considering that he was nearly indestructible.) 

Hercules stayed quiet, though. 

He stayed quiet and he thought. Something that Hercules rather spent much time on. He was reactive. He acted. But, there was nothing to act on. Not this moment. He still felt shell shocked by all of this. What had happened to Adella. The Fates in his living room. And more than all of that: the instructions they gave him.

To go see his birth mother. To go venture to the Amazons. To ask them for help.

It had never occurred to him to do that before and he felt like an idiot now. It made sense. If they had the same abilities as him, of course it would make sense for him to train with them, to ask for their help. They knew how to control their abilities. He’d seen it himself.

Thinking over.

Hercules got up off the floor. 

Atropos smirked from where she was sprawled in an armchair, touching the tips of her scissors to her fingers. 

He walked towards Georgette, putting a hand on her arm.

“It would be that easy?” he directed this at Clotho.

“Easy has nothing to do with it, we’ve told you what to do. Now it is up to you.” Her eyes flicked to Georgette and back to Hercules. She smirked and then, in a blink, the three women disappeared, leaving his apartment just the way they’d come. 

The air was heavy with silence. 

“I’m going to go,” Hercules said. He turned to face his girlfriend. “If they can help me, I have to go. It doesn’t matter all the rest. I can’t live like this anymore, Georgette.” 

GEORGETTE: The Fates disappeared as quick as a batting of an eye and the room was left with a piercing silence. The silence didn’t really bare down on Georgette or cut as deep until Hercules had placed his hand on her arm. The moment he had done that gesture the blonde already knew what his decision was going to be. 

And so, she walked away, she placed some space between them and kept her back to Hercules. 

She was just so angry and in all that anger was a storm of different emotions whirling around chaotically that Georgette didn’t even know what she was supposed to feel. She wanted to shove him, yell, pound her small fists over his chest again and again. She wanted to strongly and very clearly reiterate all the damage those Amazon hags had caused since Hercules seemed to have missed it all the first time she said it. 

She wanted to plead with him not to go. She wanted Hercules to see himself the way she saw him, see how big and how entirely she really loved him because maybe, then maybe he would get it. He would understand all of this anger that was eating at her insides and why the last thing she ever wanted was for him to go back to those women.

And Georgette got it, she did, she understood why all the rest didn’t matter for Hercules. She knew how big his heart was. It wasn’t like hers that only expanded for those she cared about, his heart always yearned to stretch out to everyone, to care for everyone. All injury to himself in the process of it all didn’t matter to him, but it mattered a great deal to Georgette. 

He would go, go back through hell and swallow everything else in, risk getting hurt and humiliated and Georgette never wanted that for him.  

Was that really so bad? Was it so bad for her to want to protect him? To want more for him?

Did it even matter? He was going, he already said he was as clear as day and that was Hercules. He would go through his decision like a bull in a china shop. Georgette was proof of that herself, she was undead. 

Georgette didn’t realize how long she had been staring at the wall or when her hand had wrapped itself around her wrist, her nails sinking into her skin. She took a deep breath in for what purpose she wasn’t sure because it did nothing to suffocate her emotions but she did so anyways before she turned around to look at Hercules. Georgette knew herself very well, she knew that when she looked at Hercules, her eyes wouldn’t even try to hold a single emotion back. 

“Then it doesn’t matter what I have to say does it? You’re still going to go.”  

HERCULES: “Yeah, I am,” Hercules said hotly.

He rarely put his foot down like this. Pegasus always lovingly referred to him as the strongest pushover they’d ever met—and it was true. Sometimes, Hercules wondered if this was an instinctual habit due to the fact that…Hercules hurt so many things when he stood his ground. He became a solid wall, impossible to break through. And he hated that. So, in all other aspects of his life, he tried to be soft.

But he couldn’t be soft about this. It was tearing him apart, already. He knew that this was what he needed to do. The bloody Fates had told him so! And, besides, it felt like the right decision.

“You don’t have to understand, but it’s what I need to do, Georgette. You—you don’t get it. I can’t keep living my life like this!” His voice rose, surprising even himself. Hercules rarely got this worked up. He had always been afraid of his own temper.

He sighed harshly, his shoulders collapsing. “Look, I’ve got to at least try, Georgette. I can’t live like this. I can’t—make a life for us like this.”

GEORGETTE:  Hercules’s voice rose, something Georgette was not used to. It almost took her for a loop and made her flinch. Hercules was not the one that entered into a temper that was Georgette. She was the one that always unleashed her anger not giving a flying care where and how it landed. 

But Hercules’s voice rose and it reminded Georgette of Ryan. 

She felt awful that such a thought had even crossed her mind because Hercules could never be like Ryan, he wasn’t a monster, he would never seek to purposely hurt her. Even still the thought had formed and it left her muscles debating if they should still go ahead and flinch or make her fingernails sink even deeper into her own skin to stop her from attacking. 

She did neither.  Instead, she spoke.

“Then go!” Georgette spat venomously, releasing her hand from the clench it had on her wrist. “Go have your damn try and do everything those hags want you to do! Because apparently none of it will affect you so I’m just being the stupid one here actually giving a rats ass and worrying about how this can all just finish only fucking hurting you in the end.”

Georgette began to move now because well one, standing still never worked for her when she was angry, it always made her feel like a caged animal and two she wasn’t about to stay here when her opinions and concerns meant absolutely nothing so she needed to start looking for her purse so that she could leave. 

“So be my fucking guest, Hercules!” Where the hell was that stupid purse?!   

HERCULES: Hercules had no idea what this meant for him and Georgette...but he knew what it meant for him.

Did it hurt that she didn’t trust him on this? That she wasn’t going to support him? Definitely. However, he needed to do this. That was all he knew. That he needed to do this, with or without help. If he didn’t, he’d never be able to take care of Georgette the way he wanted. Their lives would always be plagued by this decision. This moment. Maybe, it wouldn’t matter in the end and Georgette would stay pissed at him, but for the first time in a long time, Hercules had hope. Which meant that he hoped that when all this was fixed, when he was fixed, Georgette would forgive him and see why he had to do it.

So, he didn’t try to stop her. Instead, he handed her the purse that she was looking for. He didn’t need to be told that was what she was doing. He’d seen her lose it a thousand times before, especially when in a huff.

Silently, he handed it off to her. There wasn’t much to say. Georgette could see the hurt on his face. He could see the hurt on hers. There was nothing for it, though. 

This had to be done. It was destiny. 

So, the door closed and Hercules packed his own bag. Then, he went to the only place he knew to get the gates open: to Hades’. 

His wife let him inside, heavily pregnant and clearly tired. It made him nervous just looking at her. She was so fragile. He thanked her and waited awkwardly for Hades to come down the stairs. When he did, Hercules rose quickly, but carefully. Then, he explained the situation. 

“You don’t have to come into the Underworld with me,” Hercules assured. “I know the way.” 

With that, they set off through the forest. Unlike last time, Hercules didn’t say anything. He was quiet and determined, his jaw set. The trip was silent and felt both long and unbelievably short. It was Hades who alerted him that they had a tag-a-long, as soon as the Gates had opened. The blue flames flickered silently in the backdrop.

“Georgette?” 

Hades left without preamble, telling Hercules he had about two minutes before the gates shut tight and, no, he wasn’t coming back to open them again. 

“What are you doing here?” Hercules demanded as soon as Hades disappeared.

GEORGETTE: So, Georgette hadn’t exactly thought out this decision of hers to the extent that it probably should have been thought out. She just knew that once she had made it, she immediately went into action and found herself in the forest.

By no means was it a pleasant trip reaching the Gates of Hell. Georgette was not a nature girl. She did not appreciate dirt, or grass, branches, leaves, insects and disgusting creepy crawlers. 

She hated this forest and it’s trees. They, after all, had taken her life from her.

Yet here she was trying very hard not to be daunted by her surroundings or think back to those painful memories this exact entrance could make her relive. Even against everything, against her better knowledge because this was a trip through the Underworld after all, here she was. Wasn’t that how it always ended though?

Georgette coming right back to Hercules. 

“I’m still really upset.”

She stated because it had to be well known that her being here didn’t forfeit what she felt regarding this situation. She was still pissed and she still believed all of this was a terrible and very unfair idea. 

“But I don’t want you going through hell alone.” She admitted, her voice growing soft. “I know how that feels.”

Maybe not so much literally going through actual physical Underworld hell alone, but Georgette had gone through a rape alone. She had gone through the trial of her rapist alone. The rape, the trial, both were very real.  Both had been hard and both had been excruciating painful. They were her hell.

And being alone through hell, that was something she never wanted for Hercules. If he did this alone, she would be like every other person who had deserted him in his life. She wouldn’t forgive herself, so yes, she was still pissed off, but her anger wasn’t worth deserting Hercules.

“And I don’t want that for you so… that’s what I’m doing here.” 

HERCULES: Despite the circumstances, Hercules laughed.

It wasn’t a loud laugh, more of a chuckle than anything, but it felt very out of place, here at the entrance to the Underworld.

He was just surprised—delighted, suddenly, by this turn of events and he couldn’t help the smile that showed on his face. How fond he felt of Georgette, as she glowered at him. He wanted to kiss her, even if she’d just said she was upset with him. And he would. He’d wait, maybe, but he would.

There was a relief, too. It meant that if she was here, Hercules wouldn’t have to be alone. If she was here, she couldn’t be too upset with him. Hercules could handle pissed off Georgette, but he couldn’t handle a Georgette that wasn’t speaking to him, a Georgette that hated him. He was plenty familiar with his girlfriend’s temper and while it was a sight to behold, as long as she was still talking to him, he wasn’t going to worry.

And, y’know, he didn’t know when that had happened. Once, Hercules would’ve worried at every fight, every annoyance that he caused her (which was a lot.) But now, he just—wanted to laugh.

He softened, though, at the next thing Georgette had said and he stepped forward. Reaching out, he placed his hands on her shoulders and drew her a step closer so that he could kiss her forehead. His hands moved to her cheeks and he smiled at her.

“Thank you. I didn’t want to do this without you.” He leaned in and kissed her once, softly. “Don’t worry, I won’t let anything happen to you.” 

[miss-ladyy-blog]

That Don’t Impress Me Much # [Ladette feat. Hercules]

@perfectisme-georgette

Lady was on time, for once. She was actually a few minutes early. Which was simply wild, if you knew Lady at all. However, she was trying to be at work as seldom as possible these days. It had never been her favorite, but these days, the dredge of it was truly awful.

Which meant she was eager to make Georgette and her mani-pedi appointment that they had in the next town over. She hadn’t pampered herself in so long! And she certainly needed it after that crazy dream world. She had taken her whole afternoon off!

She went to enter Hatter’s--which is where Georgette had mentioned they were meeting (she had some kind of lunch date thing)--but she happened to look over and noticed her friend sitting outside (with a boy?!)

“Georgette! Hey, girl!” Lady greeted enthusiastically as she made her way towards the blonde and her mysterious beau (whose back was to her.) 

“I don’t think we’ve met before,” Lady said, turning her eyes quickly towards the man. “I’m Annette Grant, but you can call me Lady.” She held out her hand.

The man looked up, blinked, and then smiled and waved at her instead of taking her hand. Uhm, rude much?

“Oh, hello!” he said, in a thick weirdo accent, “I’m Hercules. I’ve heard a lot about you. We’re, uh, just finishing up.” He lifted the little tray with a credit card on it to indicate they were just waiting to pay. 

[mischievousmarvelousmagical-blog]

Who’s Scruffy Lookin’? [BSW] ~ [Demipoodle]

@perfectisme-georgette

This was some sweet digs. Maui had never been somewhere so fancy. It was certainly nicer than the hunk of junk he’d (accidentally) landed on Ilargia. He’d never even heard of the place before, though, gosh it was pretty. Wandering into the capital, Maui had been looking for spare parts, when he’d seen a flyer advertising bodyguards for the Royals.

Hey--I can do that, Maui had thought to himself, patting his trusty blaster on his hip. He’d met with the head of the Queen’s security, impressed him with a few well-aimed shots, cleared the background check with a few fibs--

And now here he was on the shiniest ship he’d ever seen, in the Queen’s quarters, no less.

He ran a finger across one of the tables tucked into the corner--a breakfast nook-type situation, if he had to guess. Maui had never had a breakfast nook before. Letting out a low whistle, he looked up as the Queen came in from her private chambers, flanked by what he assumed were handmaidens.

“I told you I clean up nice,” he told her as she looked him over, gesturing at his wrinkled shirt--free of stains--and black cloth pants. He’d shined his boots himself, even if his hair was still messy and there was a scar on his cheek. 

[pretty-perdita]

I Spy |*| [Perdette Texts]

Perdita: Hello Georgie!!

Perdita: How are you?

[gothedistance-herc]

One Last Hope ⚡ [Hercette]

In which after Hercules asks the amazons for help…[takes place: idek honestly, late august??]

Part One

@perfectisme-georgette

[tw: self-hate, mentions of sexual assault, mentions of death, thoughts of death]

HERCULES: The trip through hell was...a trip through hell. 

There were monsters to fight and personal issues to get through, but Hercules had trudged forward with determination. He knew the way and he would not rest until he got to the other side. It was the promise of a better future, for himself and Georgette, that guided him onwards and filled each of his steps with a confidence he rarely had.

It was not easy, but they made it through mostly unscathed.

Hercules was glad to get in the boat, float down the water, and crawl through the bushes again. They stepped out into the clearing and it felt as if they had never left. The air was humid and tasted slightly of salt. They were near the sea, Hercules knew. He took in a deep breath and started forward, Georgette’s hand in his.

It did not take long before they came across others. 

There was a spear to his throat and he pulled Georgette slightly closer, though he regarded the older woman with calm. “I know you know me,” he told her.

The Amazon, Iphito, sucked at her teeth and dropped her spear. “You’ve brought a mortal with you. You just love breaking rules, don’t you?”

“She’s not a mortal. You made sure of that,” Hercules replied, his own voice cool. “Will you tell my--Diana, that I am here?” 

“Wait here,” Iphito commanded before turning away and disappearing into the thick vegetation.

Hercules turned to Georgette and offered her a bashful, but hopeful smile. He squeezed her hand.

It did not take long for the bushes to rustle again and for his birth mother to appear. She looked as if she had not aged a day, looked exactly as she had the first time he’d seen her; dressed in a pair of leather trousers and a tight fitted shirt, her long, thick black hair braided down her back. 

“Hercules, oh! I knew you would return. I’m so happy to see you, my son.” She came towards him and leaned in to kiss his cheek. She barely had to stand on her toes to do so. Her hand was on the back of his head, stroking lightly at his hair, and then slid to cup his cheek. “You look tired, let us get you and you’re...mortal some food.” 

GEORGETTE: The trip through hell was mentally scarring to say the least. It was bad enough the first time around and going through it a second time did not feel any easier! Of course, it helped that she had an indestructible boyfriend who took extra care to make sure she was affected as little as possible and that she was almost as indestructible herself. 

But even so, it was hell. Who could forget hell?!

And it only got better because as the pair of them stood surrounded by thick vegetation and a very sharp spear directed right at Hercules’s throat, Georgette knew she had traded in one hell for another. The amazons, she really had a very strong dislike (practically hate) for them and those were the exact emotions that were running through her when seeing one appear behind the spear.

Iphito was it…? Georgette couldn’t exactly remember, not that it mattered, all of them were irrelevant to her, but the blonde did remember this woman from the first time she had been here. 

And it took every inch and every single centimeter of Georgette’s being not to react, pounce or lash. She wanted to tell the damn bitch to remove the spear, look if she had absolutely no problem raging out at the Fates, the Amazons were of even minimal importance to Georgette’s temper.  Instead, she remained composed, so much so she had stopped breathing, quite literally. Any misstep on her part could break her composure.  

The thing was, however, that Georgette really wanted this to work for Hercules’s sake, and only Hercules’s sake. She knew how much this meant to him and Hercules meant more to her than indulging her own temper. Besides, Hercules handled the situation in a manner that brought a smile to her features and a proud warmth to her chest. She hoped he understood as much when she replied to his bashful smile with a gentle kiss to his chest.

Everything was short lived of course, because if there was anyone Georgette found of the least irrelevance than the Amazons, it was Hercules’s biological mother and here she came prancing about all cooing as if she was the best mother of the fucking year— Georgette was squeezing Hercules’s hand so hard that if he had been anyone else, all the bones in his hand would have shattered.

“I’m not hungry.” Georgette replied with a very pronounced edge to her voice.

HERCULES: “Of course, of course, my mistake,” Diana said without missing a beat. Her eyes flicked to Georgette’s and Hercules’ followed, giving his girlfriend a sheepish look. The fact was: he was starving. He didn’t even know how many days it had been, since time all but stopped in the Underworld. Could probably check his phone but he didn’t want to do that. It felt out of place. 

“Let us go, we can eat, you can tell me why you are here.”

Hercules tugged Georgette along, knowing she wasn’t at all happy about this. He squeezed her hand, knowing that she wasn’t happy about any of this, but was holding her tongue. It was appreciated, even if it also made him anxious. 

They weaved through the trees, on a path the size of a deer trail, until it opened up on a busy hub of women and children going back and forth. From the center rose a billowing smoke and the scent of seasoned meats. Around this was women preparing vegetables, stirring bowls of food, setting out plates. There were long tables stretched out--all of this under a thatched roof that was open at the sides, though he could see rolled up animal skins that were most likely used as walls during rain. Beyond this structure laid houses, all hand built, none necessarily extravagant. There was maybe twenty or so, and plenty more women than that. 

As they arrived, much of the commotion died down, people staring at them as they wandered closer.

Diana seemed unbothered by this, getting in line, with Hercules right behind her, also grabbing a plate. They piled their dishes high with food, Hercules smiling and thanking every person that served him. The trio found a table towards the outskirts and settled in.

“So, why are you here?” Diana asked eagerly.

“I--well, I want to train with you.” 

Diana frowned, placing her fork back down on her plate. “That is not possible.”

Hercules frowned, felt his heart rate tick up slightly. “I didn’t choose to be like this,” Hercules told her, his voice with a significant edge to it. “It’s ruining my life.” 

“I understand that, but we have rules here. Traditions. In order to keep everyone safe,” Diana argued softly.

GEORGETTE: The scenery around her was one unlike anywhere Georgette has ever been in and that was saying a lot having just been at the Underworld before here. It was like she had been transported back in time as if she was walking through the historic ruins of a greek temple. Not that anything around her was shattered or left in pieces on the contrary all seemed to have an order to it. 

There was just nothing modern in sight. 

No males either, not that Georgette had expected any, but it was still such a stark fact to see before her eyes. They really did give away their male children. Something about that caused a burn deep down in her gut maybe because she knew the feeling of being abandoned. It might not have been because she was a male, but her mother pretty much left her for dead. 

Georgette hadn’t taken a plate even as she followed Hercules to the table. It hadn’t been a lie what she said before, she wasn’t hungry. She couldn’t get hungry and even if she could, she probably would have still denied herself a plate. 

She didn’t like the amazons and that thought came to the forefront when hearing Diana deny Hercules his training. Diana, who went ahead and broke tradition when she decided to keep her son and in doing so imbued him with all of the Amazonian strength. When found out gave him up and left him abandoned to fend for himself. 

Seemed like this woman only found following tradition to be good when she felt like it. 

Again, it took Georgette a great deal of will power to refrain herself from reacting as quick as her temper wanted her to. Her temper at this moment would not help anyone least of all Hercules for whom she passed a gentle hand over his forearm. It was no secret that she did not want to be here and that she had warned Hercules of this very answer, but she was here for Hercules and she would be damned if he didn’t get what he came for.  

He deserved at least that.

“Well the Fates seem to believe otherwise.” Georgette stated her voice collected but not without a cooling bite to it. “He’s here at their instruction.” 

Or suggestion, but same difference. The Fates didn’t appear to just anyone, and no one needed to be an expert to know that, so if they appear to drop a “suggestion” it meant go do it. Why the hell else would Georgette have lost the argument to come here in the first place. 

“And I’m going to assume if the Fates took the time and effort to appear in front of Hercules to leave this suggestion as his solution, then they must have already weighed the importance of these traditions and yet even still, they appeared.” 

HERCULES: There was a very long pause. 

Hercules shifted a little in his seat, feeling the weight of Diana’s gaze on him. He wondered if she could read his expressions. If they were hers...or his birth father’s. Or if he was just as much a stranger to her as she was to him. The thought unsettled him as much as her gaze did and he avoided her eyes, afraid of what he’d see. Georgette could hate her all she wanted, but Hercules was too soft for that. There was a part of him that wanted to know this woman. Who wanted to know his father (if his mother even knew who he was…) Even his sister, because yeah, he remembered that he had one of those too...which felt so bizarre. Hercules wasn’t a brother. 

He wasn’t, because blood didn’t make a family.

But...it could.

Maybe.

He wasn’t sure. 

Eventually, Diana spoke. “Is this true, did the Fates appear to you?”

Hercules’ gaze darted towards her and then away again. “Mhm,” he grunted, fiddling with his hands in his lap, no longer hungry. “Not the first time.”

“The Fates have visited you more than once?” The urgency with which she said it made him lift his head, eyebrows raised in surprise.

“Er, yeah...is that--weird?” 

“My son--” Diana’s gaze darted towards Georgette and back to Hercules. “Hercules. I have lived for two hundred years, and I have never seen the Fates. Only heard of them and their visits.” 

“Oh,” Hercules said, stupidly. 

“Why did they bring you to me?”

“Well, the first time it was, uhm, for Georgette.” Hercules glanced towards his girlfriend and gave her a little smile. “I’d had given up my powers to a demon and--”

“You what?” Diana interrupted, alarmed.

“Yeah, I did. Because I hate these powers. All I ever do is hurt people. Georgette died, because of me!” His voice had raised sharply, cracking before his shoulders slumped and he put his head in his hands. “So many people have been hurt.” 

GEORGETTE: There was a piercing pang that gnawed deep within Georgette’s  gut when she heard the guilt that rang out of Hercules’s statement. 

It made her heart ache. 

Georgette was very aware that she had been so angry with Hercules when he brought her back into a somewhat life after her death. She knew she had told him awful, cutting words and had practically yelled in hatred for the decision he made for her, but she never wanted him to hold the weight of her death on his shoulders. 

Maybe his decision after the fact, yes, she will not deny the raging storm of anger and hurt she had hid behind when all of that had happened, but it was never for her death.

And even after absolutely everything she couldn’t stop loving Hercules.

Georgette took a hold of Hercules’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. She also tugged at it so that he could look at her.  She hoped that he was able to see the softness and warmth behind them.

“You didn’t cause my death, Hercules, a tree did that. You were the one who brought me back.” 

She didn’t care who was around her, Georgette leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on his cheek. When she pulled back she settled her eyes at Hercules’s mother. 

Georgette did not like this woman there was not hiding the pure dislike for her, but she did love her son and she was here for him. She would rather place herself in the position to beg for Hercules’s behalf then have him do it. 

After everything they have taken from him and made him live through, she didn’t want him to beg for their help.

“Hercules would never be a person to use anything he can be taught for wrong. He wouldn’t bring anyone harm. He saved me. He showed me kindness and love when I was the last person to deserve any of it. Please, don’t let him leave here without the help he is asking for.”

HERCULES: No matter how many times Georgette reassured him that it wasn’t his fault that she’d been killed, he was pretty sure the guilt would exist anyway. See, guilt and Hercules were very familiar bedfellows. No one had been as loyal to him as his fucking guilt. At least, not until Georgette came along. Sometimes, he couldn’t understand how she could still make excuses for him, but--

He was glad. He’d stick with her for as long as she wanted to make excuses for him.

But, see, that was the thing, wasn’t it? Hercules didn’t want to be making excuses anymore. Hercules wanted to live his life. He wanted to live it without being afraid. He wanted to live it with the ease of his mother, who lounged in front of them, her eyes sharp and vigilant, but her posture relaxed, every line of her body smooth and happy. Unlike Hercules who always sat as if he was being poked between the shoulder blades with the tip of a knife. 

His hand turned up when Georgette took it and he gave it a little squeeze. He would never take for granted such a simple gesture that so many couples did. If she had not died, they would never have been able to be together. Of that, Hercules was sure, because he would never forgive himself if something had happened to her again. After everything. Because of him. 

He smiled softly at the kiss and ducked his head down. Bashful at the praise that Georgette was lavishing on him. Still, he couldn’t disagree with it. For once, he stayed silent. Because Hercules would never use his strength against someone. The thought wouldn’t even occur to him. He wanted to harness his powers so that he didn’t hurt others. 

Georgette’s defense of him was much better than he could’ve ever given of himself. Hercules knew that. And, so, it seemed, did Diana. He heard her sigh and looked up and--somehow--he knew by the look on her face that...she agreed before she said anything.

“I will have to speak to our leaders but--” Diana reached her hand across the table, palm up.

After a moment’s hesitation, Hercules reached out and took it. She squeezed it firmly, without fear. It almost squeezed tears right out of his eyes. Hercules’ mother--his real mother--had never touched him so calmly, so assuredly. 

That was what he wanted. His heart burned with it. 

“I will help you, Hercules. It was never my intention that you live with this burden alone. I didn’t--know. Maybe, if I had--” Diana cut herself off. Hercules drew his hand away. “Nevermind. Just...let me do what I can now.” 

“Thank you,” Hercules said, as he dropped his hand back into his lap. He let his hand cover the one that was still holding Georgette’s. 

Diana nodded, smiled once--soft and sad--and then got up and left the table. 

Hercules turned to Georgette at once and kissed her sweetly.

“Thank you,” he told her. “I love you.” 

GEORGETTE: Georgette hadn’t realized that she had stopped breathing. It wasn’t a hard thing for her to do, breathing was no longer a necessity and her body simply continued to do so because it was an engraved involuntary habit she has had since birth. Right now though, she had been holding her  breath.

She didn’t know if Diana was going to listen to her words. Up until right now, Georgette has never really begged anyone for anything. Well, she had once before the night of her rape and since then she had promised herself that she will never do so again. She would never place herself in a predicament where she knowingly admitted that the power rested on another person’s hand and not her own. 

But she had just finished pleading with Diana on Hercules’s behalf.

If Hercules hadn’t swept her into a soft and sweet kiss, her breath would have still been stuck hitched in her throat until Diana returned. Then he told her those three little words that always made her heart flutter and skip all a mess in her chest and it made her realize that there really wasn’t anything that Georgette wouldn’t do for Hercules.

“You better.” She teased with a warm smile on her features.

Without realizing how it had even started, Hercules had managed to change her life so completely.  There had been some bumps and bruises in the midst of those changes, but in the end it had all been for the better. Georgette knew that she would redo and relive every moment of her life if it meant it always gave her this: Hercules beside her telling her that he loved her. 

“I love you too.” 

Unable to help herself, Georgette stole herself another kiss just as sweet as the one before, allowing this one to linger a little longer because kissing Hercules was one of her favorite things that she always cherished. When she had drawn back, she gently placed one of her hands on Hercules’s cheek, and allowed her thumb to softly run over his skin.

“And you’ll see your mother will come back and you’ll get this training. Everything will work out.” 

As soon as she had finished those words, Diana had returned with a couple of other Amazons including Iphito. Georgette assumed that these women had to be some of the leaders Diana had spoken about and so she withdrew her hand from Hercules’s cheek and instead placed it back over his own. Look, Georgette wasn’t trying to ruin any bit of Hercules’s chances because of some PDA. She wanted this for Hercules as much as he wanted it for himself because she knew how important this was for him. Squeezing his hand, she waited to hear what the verdict was. 

HERCULES: Hercules smiled into the second kiss. 

He wished that he had Georgette’s sudden optimism. He didn’t, however. When you spent your whole life fucking things up, you tended to have a rather pessimestic view of things. That things would not work out. 

Despite this, Hercules always had hope. He spoke, out loud, the pessimism because that was easier to digest, but--he believed in hope. If he didn’t have hope, he didn’t know how he would’ve made it this far. He had to have hope that at some point, he would figure out how to control his powers and be free of them in that way. Getting rid of them entirely was not an option (since the last time he’d done that, Georgette had died.) So, he had to control them. 

And this was his shot. He knew it. He was anxious, only giving Georgette a nod in return of her words. Any more than that and he thought he might burst into tears. The muscle in his jaw was tight and he could only stare straight ahead, mostly unseeing. 

It took much less time than he imagined. 

Hercules snapped back when the amazons and his birth mother reappeared. 

Iphito looked down her long, flat nose at him. 

Hercules swallowed and his grip on Georgette’s hand tightened instinctively.

“We will train you.” Her eyes flicked towards Georgette and back again. “Only you.” 

“What--really? Really? Thank you, thank you s--”

“Training will not be easy. However, there has never been an Amazon that has failed it.” Her arms uncrossed from in front of her chest. “Do not be the first.” 

“I won’t. I swear.” 

Iphito nodded and she and her posse moved off. Diana was left behind, smiling at Hercules. 

“I can show you where you’ll be staying. This way.” 

Hercules scrambled up, tugging Georgette after him. His hand was still in hers and he squeezed it, basically bouncing along. He kissed her cheek. “This’ll be amazing!” 

[gothedistance-herc]

Apple of My Eye ⚡ [Hercette]

@perfectisme-georgette

Georgette was annoyed at him.

This amused Hercules. It didn’t usually, don’t get him wrong. Georgette was rarely annoyed with him, though she definitely had her moments, and when she was, Hercules hated it usually. He tripped over himself to fix whatever it was. But, well, his girlfriend had a certain height of standards. Hercules respected this, even when he felt like he was running a marathon trying to reach them.

But today? She could be annoyed at him all she wanted as she sat in the passenger seat of the car he’d rented for the day--not knowing their final destination. This was, for the record, the reason she was annoyed and why Hercules wasn’t that stressed about it. As soon as where they got where they were going--he was pretty sure she’d be all smiles.

At least, that was the hope. This was partially for her birthday, after all. 

They turned down a road, eventually, indicated as “Sweetapple Farms.” 

As they drove down the lane, there were trees on either side, heavily laden with apples. Rows and rows of apples, in almost any color you could imagine. 

“Are you talking to me yet?” he teased, sliding a glance over at Georgette. The nerves started, just a bit. He hoped she’d like it. Apple picking, far out of town--and a picnic too, at the end. Or, well, that was the plan anyway. It wasn’t fancy or anything, but, well Hercules wasn’t much for fancy. This felt like a good compromise between their two worlds.

[gothedistance-herc]

Talk ⚡ [Hercette Texts]

Hercules: Hey, Georgette.

Hercules: Just making sure everything is okay, post-dream.

Hercules: Bye.

Hercules [deleted]: What the fuck why did you say BYE?

[gothedistance-herc]

Getaway ⚡ [Hercette]

In which Georgette gets an upsetting call and Hercules makes a suggestion...[takes place idefk in July?]

@perfectisme-georgette

[tw -- mentions of rape, non-descriptive]

GEORGETTE:  Georgette was in the comfort of her home, blissfully bare foot and in her kitchen grabbing herself a glass of water. She did everything carefully as she really didn’t want to go and break another dish ware. She has been getting better with it all, which was a tremendous deal for her, especially since she will be making a trip to NYC soon and it wasn’t going to be a confined one either. Gary had a whole scheduled set up for her that it would make anyone else’s head spin just looking at it. 

It was also the reason for why she had Hercules over. 

They were kind of sort of together. It felt like together, Georgette wanted together, and even if there were murky ground between them with everything they have both been through and put each other through, Georgette still wanted to be able to figure that all out with him. She loved him and the heavens knew she has put herself through tremendous torture trying to deny it for so long.  

This meant laying it out all out. No more trying to figure things out between the lines. It has brought them enough trouble. 

Georgette took a sip of her water and placed the glass down on the counter. She walked over to where Hercules was seated looking at him a moment with softened eyes before taking a seat next to him. She slid her hand into one of his. It made her smile to see how seemingly perfect her hand fitted right into Hercules’s and for a brief second, she had forgotten all about what has been plaguing her. 

“So, I wanted to tell you something.”   

HERCULES: Really, at this point, Hercules should not be surprised by his life. 

There were so many twists and turns that he never could’ve predicted. From being adopted to his vanished best friend reappearing on their doorstep with little to no explanation, there was nothing that had made sense to him. Still, he tried, with the valiant effort of ancient philosopher’s trying to discover the why of the world. They had succeeded much better than him.

However, he marveled, from his vantage spot on Georgette’s couch at this particular turn in his life as he watched Georgette move about the kitchen. Her hair caught in the sunlight coming from the window, shining bright. She was so pretty, Hercules was so glad he could think that without feeling a stab of shame hot as an iron through him. 

He didn’t understand it, but just this one time, he wouldn’t question it. He may not be able to easily crush Georgette physically but he wanted hold her heart as gently as he could in both his hands.

When she came back towards him he smiled a little at her. When she took his hand, he marveled at this, still afraid to squeeze, really, but he curled his fingers until the pads of them brushed against the back of her hand. 

His stomach dropped and then fluttered at her announcement, but he just smiled and nodded a little at her, feeling his heart begin to pick up the pace.

“Sure. What’s--uhm--what’s up?”

GEORGETTE:  Georgette knew there were certain words in a relationship that always felt like a dreadful bomb was going to be catastrophically dropped. “I want to tell you something” can be just as scary to hear as “we need to talk.” They just never seemed to carry good news behind them and in a way, it still held true here. What Georgette did have to say wasn’t good news at all, in fact, she had paused a moment when Hercules gave her the floor to speak.

She was trying to figure out how to word all that was going on. It was a lot and it was so tiring. It felt like this nightmare would never end for her and it was only weighing heavier and heavier on her shoulders. How does anyone place something like that into words? 

Her gaze drifted down to their hands. It amazed her to feel his fingers curl around her own and the fullness of his palm pressed against hers. She never thought she would have that again, not with Hercules. She thought she had seared all possibilities of this, of a them and to know that he could touch her without needing to be so delicate and worried it could keep her lost in her own thoughts, but then she would never say what she needed to say. 

“It’s not bad.” She squeezed his hand for reassurance as she looked up at him with a gentle smile. “Or well it is, but not anything you did. It’s more me.” Georgette paused taking a breath in and shaking her head. 

“I’m doing this horribly, but I received a phone call about a couple of weeks or so ago from Cassandra. Cassandra was the prosecutor for the trial. She informed me that my rapist’s lawyers were going to go after an appeal and she wanted to make sure that I was made aware personally instead of catching wind of the news through the media.”

Which was bound to happen as the news had already caught fire and everyone had something to say all raving their opinions left and right.  

“She wants me to meet with her to talk about the process of it all and the options available to me if…” Georgette had to pause and swallow tightly because she couldn’t believe that her next words could become a true reality for her, that it was even a possibility.  “If they were to win their appeal…” 

HERCULES: Hercules stayed quiet while Georgette spoke, but he realized as she finished that he’d been holding his breath for the entire time.

He felt this rising inside of him, like the magma of the earth billowing up from the crust of the earth. The heat of it stole his breath as he tried to process what Georgette said. 

As someone with powers like him, Hercules had spent his whole life curbing any temper he possessed. He’d always been thankful that such a thing was easy, as his temper was mild at best. There were only a handful of times he had felt himself burning with anger, he could remember each one as if they were branded into his skin.

This one was the worst of them all and he sat there, attempting to bite down on it, like iron in his mouth. He wanted to grind his anger to pieces, because he knew that Georgette did not need his anger. Not to mention, even if Georgette wasn’t easily hurt by her, she was still not as strong as him and he was sure his anger could still hurt her; he was acutely aware of her small, delicate hand in his. He could only, no matter what, consider Georgette delicate.

She was, of course, also the strongest person he knew—this was just more proof of that and he tried to remind himself of these things, lining them all up in a row in his mind and counting them: one, two, three, breathe.

It took a few moments, but Hercules turned his gaze towards her, holding all that breath in his lungs, trying to suffocate the fire in his chest.

“I’m so sorry,” he told her, his other hand coming over to cover her own, and then move up her arm slightly, rubbing gently. “I won’t let anything happen to you.”

He paused, rethought, and then said: “You won’t let anything happen to you.”

His hand moved back down her arm to her hand again. “What—do you need from me?”

Hercules didn’t want to assume anything. He’d never dealt with something like this before. He had no idea what she needed. And the last thing he wanted to do was domineer. He was still painfully aware of the last time he had been the one to make decisions for them. That had gone excellently.

GEORGETTE:  Once Georgette had finished speaking about the current situation she was facing, she remained silent. She kept a careful eye on Hercules to see how what his reaction would be after it all. Last time she dropped something along these lines she had been far too busy crying on him to notice anything.

The first time as well now that she thought about it, but the first time she had also been drunk... 

Hercules appeared so stoic. He was quiet, and Georgette honestly didn’t know if he was simply trying to process it all, the heavens knew when Cassandra called her the first time the blonde had remained locked in a petrified daze too stunned to even allow her mind to understand everything, or if he was holding back. He was just— quiet. 

Had she gone too far telling him of this? 

Georgette didn’t know, odd is it may sound, this was sort of new ground for her. Her last ex (which she tried her absolute best to never think about), the relationship had been centered around publicity really, along with most of her other relationships. She had never been with someone where well she had fallen in love with.

Hercules’s gaze turned towards her and they softened. She could see concern there and genuine tenderness. 

I won’t let anything happen to you.

Her heart dropped, and her chest grew tight. She felt stunned like if she had been stuck in mid suspension. The night of her rape, when she spoke to her mother and told her everything all she saw was coldness in her eyes. There was never a kindness there, never a thought for her. Hercules he wanted to support her, he wanted to keep her safe. She was not used to anyone ever offering so much of themselves to simply be there for her. 

“I don’t know…” Georgette squeezed Hercules’s hand but at the moment she wanted to tighten her own hand around her wrist. 

“I don’t even know how to feel. I mean this—this is real. They can actually win. They can get him out. He can be out and I’ll have to live with the knowledge of living in a world where he is freely walking the streets.” She took a shaky breath in, her voice dropping to an almost quiet whisper. “I thought this was over. I… I really thought it was done and now it’s not… I have to go through this all over again.” 

Georgette paused and allowed a silence to hang in the air. “I’m scared that I’ll revert back to how I was because I want this all to stop and to disappear and go numb.” And alcohol had done that for her, alcohol had always numbed everything. “I almost wanted to already after that Titanic dream and I could feel myself wanting to again now. Please, don’t let me.” 

HERCULES: There were certain things about the human experience that Hercules had never understood: he had never been injured--no stories littered his body in the form of scars. He had never bled. He had never been sick, not even a cold. 

The one thing fate had afforded him was the understanding--despite his powers--what it felt like to carry a weight. He had learned over his life that everyone carried weight. As if each person had been born with a bag filled with sand tied around them. It manifested for people in different ways, but it was always there. It was a lucky, strange person that did not have this--more rare than not having a leg or an arm or an eye. 

No matter how strong Hercules was, his burden weighed the same as everyone else’s.

This understanding made him soft towards others. He was always so gentle because he was always so afraid of what would happen otherwise, but also because he understood the weight, as if he could see it with his third eye, perched on the tops of people’s heads or shoulders or backs or tied to one of their hands, dragging them down. 

It had always made Hercules feel more human when his heart burned tender.

However, seeing Georgette so upset made Hercules feel like there was an itching under his skin. He wanted to scratch it out. There was no way to ignore it until it was taken care of--and it wouldn’t be taken care of until the situation with that horrible man was dealt with. Georgette would not feel safe, without him gone, and Hercules didn’t blame her. Not at all. 

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Hercules assured, rubbing his hand up her arm a little. He scoot closer to her on the couch, still moving carefully, still hyperaware. It wasn’t something he could turn off, and, besides, he didn’t know if she wanted him near. 

“It’s not going to happen, Georgette. I promise--” I’ll take care of it, if he walks free, I’ll take care of it. The words were on the tip of his tongue. He bit them down, because that wasn’t who he was. Hercules was not a violent person. He would not let this man make him stoop to his level. 

“--your lawyer knows what she’s doing. There is plenty of evidence if he was convicted once.” His hand moved gently to her back. 

“And, in the meantime--for whatever it is worth, I’m here. I--am sorry I wasn’t the first time, but I am now. Promise. I’m not going anywhere. Well, unless you get sick of me and then I’ll leave because I’d respect your wishes to do so, obviously.” 

GEORGETTE:  Hercules had placed in his hand on her back and the gesture felt comforting to her. It was strange even for as welcomed as it was because she never saw herself being comfortable with another man, not after she’s been raped. 

Somehow, Hercules had managed to turn everything upside down and completely around. 

He shifted closer to her and Georgette found herself immediately slipping into the comfort of his arms and curling close. She hadn’t given thought to her action nor did she wonder if it would be unsettling for Hercules. 

She wasn’t exactly very fragile anymore. 

Georgette rested her head on his chest and she could hear the steady rhythm of Hercules’s heart beat. It was strong, constant, solid. It soothed her. She could feel the tension laced within her muscles relaxing, her nerves unwinding. It felt safe. 

“I think I’m just expecting the worse. I’m already assuming they will win their appeal. That will be the outcome. I keep assuming that it will never go my way. I figure… at least this way if the verdict does go that way then… it won’t be a surprise. I can… I can figure out how to adjust…” 

How anyone can truly adjust with their rapist walking free… Georgette wasn’t sure but if that became the case then she didn’t have a choice did she?

A touch of a smile lit up Georgette’s features as she looked up at Hercules.

“It’s worth a lot to me. I… never had anyone who wanted to be there for me even when it had all originally happened.”

HERCULES: Georgette curled against him and yes—Hercules paused. Hercules sucked in a breath. Hercules stayed perfectly still.

These things were instincts. Whenever anyone got too close, Hercules turned into a statue. He had gotten so good at it, sometimes he was afraid that he would just stay that way one day and never move again. It was the fear that froze him. He didn’t know what else to do, there had never been anyone in his life that he could relax around when they touched him. Even when people like Melody and Pegasus did their thing and knocked into him or hugged him—he didn’t ever feel comfortable.

There had been a taste when he’d given up his powers. He remembered what it had been like then, but it felt like a dream.

Hercules had always dreamed of touching people without fear.

And he had to remind himself now as Georgette spoke, her voice soft, that she was not soft anymore. (Well, she was, her skin was soft and smooth, her hair tickled at his neck and chin.) He didn’t have to be afraid of her.

He understood expecting the worst—he was doing it right now, as he tried to convince himself to move his hand to Georgette’s head. Though, in his defense, the worst was usually what happened.

That seemed to be the case for Georgette too.

Though, this time, Hercules knew that he would do his best not to let that happen.

Hercules smiled at her when she looked at him and he did move his hand then to cup the back of her head, he kissed her forehead softly.

“I know,” he told her gently. “And we’ll figure something out, yeah? Have—I dunno, some game plan for the worst possible scenario if that’d make you feel better. Or—we can plan something, yeah? For when it’s all over. Like, I dunno—a trip? Go somewhere, either way, good or bad. It’ll give you something to look forward too, maybe. Instead of…being so worried.”

He shrugged a little and stroked his hand down her hair so it rested on her back. 

“If you want. Just a suggestion.”

GEORGETTE:  A trip, Georgette hadn’t thought about that at all. Of course, there was the trip she was going to have to make to NYC to meet with Cassandra, but that was entirely different.

This would be a trip away from stress, away from the nightmare of everything. This was something positive she could have to look forward to! It was something fun to plan, not like her NYC trip that had a negative connotation to it as she would have to hear about everything she didn’t want to hear about. 

And Georgette liked organizing these kinds of things. It could keep her well distracted.

She lifted her head, tucking her chin on Hercules’s chest so that she could look at him with a playful smile. “You would want to go on a trip with me?”

Georgette asked teasingly, but she also knew that she can be a handful. She had a lot of baggage on her and it still surprised her that Hercules had not run away because of it all. Many would have. It was a lot and the blonde knew that well enough. Trauma was never easy, it lingered even when one didn’t want it to, even when Georgette didn’t want it to and that affects all the people around her, especially the ones so close to her.

“I would love that. It can keep me distracted and that’s something I really need. It’ll keep me out of my own head because I’m drowning in it.” She admitted. “It’ll be a nice escape.” For the both of them. “Anywhere you’d like to go?”

HERCULES: Honestly, traveling for Hercules was always nerve-wracking. Being in a plane was so confined, he always felt like he couldn’t move, having visions of tripping and ripping a hole in the bulkhead or something equally as horrible. Also, after having been kicked out of several countries by the authorities, you were a little hesitant to go anywhere.

However, if it meant getting Georgette to smile the way she did? Hercules would go around the world for something like that. 

It made him smile too as he looked down at her, feeling his chest light up all warm and proud. This was not an emotion he was used to feeling. Hercules was rarely ever proud about anything. Being able to help people was really the only time, and even that was often soured by the fact even though Hercules helped, he just as frequently ruined whatever it was he was helping with. Such as when he’d--y’know, gotten Georgette turned into some sort of undead...something. Little things like that.

Right now, he wasn’t thinking about that. Right now, he was thinking about how glad he was that he knew Georgette well enough that his suggestion had not been laughed off. 

“No, not really. I’ve been pretty much everywhere.” Hercules shrugged a shoulder. “Wherever you want. This trip is for you, after all, shona.” He leaned down to kiss her forehead softly. “I’m just along for the ride, yeah? Make myself useful carrying all your luggage or something.”

GEORGETTE:  Hercules kissed her forehead and she felt the kiss and Georgette felt the tenderness of the gesture right down to her toes. It was simple, nothing grand, and yet it made her feel warm twisting her stomach into a knot. This small sweet gesture was something she thought she would never find herself having, especially not from Hercules after all they had gone through. 

Then there was the fact that the nearness of other males made her skin crawl and her stomach revolt.

But, here was Hercules being so gentle with her and giving her full reign of the entire trip all so she would be comfortable and at ease through everything that was going on. His thoughts and concerns were solely on her and that made her heart squeeze inside of her chest. 

Georgette felt like the center of his world.

“I won’t even have to limit myself with luggage then because that would be so easy for you.” She teased even laughing a little the pressing issues of her rape so far away from her mind.

“But I was thinking maybe Greece?” She offered up her idea with a glitter of excitement behind her eyes. “I have been there once before.” She wondered if he remembered as they have spoken about it in the past. “And I’ve always wanted to go back, just haven’t been able to. It was so beautiful there.”

And she couldn’t think of a better place to be with Hercules than Greece. Georgette took a hold of one of Hercules’s hands giving it a bit of a tender squeeze. 

“I would love to go there with you.”

HERCULES: Greece.

Hercules made a little face and glanced away, for just a moment. It wasn’t that he didn’t like Greece, he loved Greece. At least, he loved what he could remember of it. The streets of Athens had been narrow, the city loud and boisterous, especially in the evenings. The summers had been hot and hazy, but there had been so much fruit that had dribbled sticky from his lips and on his fingers. 

He hadn’t gone back in years and years.

Hercules had never gone back to a place he’d been asked to leave. In some places, he wasn’t allowed back. Placed on their Dangerous Magicks list. That had always hurt, like a splinter in his heart, but he usually didn’t have to think about it. Greece wasn’t one of those places, but the memory of his leaving was stickier than any of the sticky fruit. 

That was why he made the face that he did. It didn’t mean he didn’t want to go. It just meant that splinter was pressed on and it burned. He could just remember that he had been unwanted-- again...and again, and again. 

But--Georgette wanted him (for whatever reason) and she wanted to go to Greece.

And Hercules already know that he couldn’t, wouldn’t, tell her no.

So, he wiped the grimace off his face and smiled instead at Georgette.

“Yeah, Greece would be fun. Where do you want to go? Mykonos?” That seemed like kind of place Georgette would want to go, so beautiful and--Instagram worthy. “Or Santorini? Crete is supposed to be cool too.” 

GEORGETTE:  Georgette had caught that very quick look on Hercules’s features, even before he had briefly turned his face away. It really hadn’t been all that difficult to see, she had her attention placed on him after all and normally such a look wouldn’t have phased her. Hell, she wouldn’t have given it a second thought. 

In fact, Georgette would’ve started laying out all her plans for the trip. She would’ve begun listing all the places she wanted to see, all the activities that they would be able to do, what she could buy, and how excited she’ll be walking by the ocean side (because that was such a beautiful sight in Greece so obviously she needed to enjoy that). She would’ve gone on and on not once caring about what she had seen before hand.

But that was Georgette, she was selfish in that way.  

See, there weren’t many people in this world that Georgette really cared about, so she hardly felt the need to concern herself with whatever another person may be going through because of her own needs and desires. Hercules, however, she deeply cared for him. She wanted him to enjoy this trip just as much, and if Greece would only make him feel uncomfortable then she didn’t have to go to Greece. They can switch destinations. Greece wasn’t the only place in the world that had a beautiful ocean view, nor was it the only place on the planet that could distract her from everything that was going on.  

Honestly, this was Georgette, she could find something exciting to do anywhere she went, and at the end of the day, she just wanted him there with her, wherever they decide to go.

By this point, she had already ignored all the places Hercules had finished listing in Greece and hadn’t given any input about them. Instead, Georgette sat up, she didn’t push away from Hercules but did sit up. If she knew Hercules well, which she believed that she did, he would try and circle around the question she was about to ask him. She looked at him a moment before bringing up one of her hands so that her fingers could brush over the skin of his cheeks. 

It was a sweet gesture, but also one that sort of forced Hercules to keep his gaze on her (which honestly was where Georgette loved his gaze to be). 

“Are you sure you would be okay with Greece?  I saw that quick look there.” 

HERCULES: “Oh, no--it’s nothing, really.” Herc shrugged and then smiled. It was a bashful smile as much as it was a reassuring one. 

He didn’t talk about his life much--to anyone. Peg had lived a lot of it with him, had been on the other end of a phone call, and then Skype calls, while Hercules sniffled about having to move again, or about how his crush didn’t like him back, or how he hurt someone else or scared someone else or how everyone was so small and fragile and he just didn’t want to do anything to make them upset. 

Peg and his parents were the only ones who really knew anything about it.

Well, most people could summarize. Or just Google him.

Georgette had picked things up, here or there. Hercules letting out stories like slowly, slowly lowering down a rope into a well. 

But--he didn’t want to talk about it. Not right now. Not really. Maybe not ever. He hated the way it made him feel, thinking about all those disasters. Thinking about how he was the reason for them. 

He didn’t want to make this about him, either. It was about Georgette. For him, now, it was always about Georgette.

So, he smiled--and he gave Georgette’s shoulders a little squeeze.

“No, Greece would be nice. I haven’t been back in a really long time. That’s all. I promise. We should get to planning! There is so much to see.”

GEORGETTE:  Georgette eyed Hercules a moment. She already knew he wouldn’t tell her no, but she wanted to make sure that he was truly okay with the destination. After seeing that he was completely set in being okay with Greece did Georgette press her cheek gently on one of the hands Hercules had placed on her shoulder. 

She lifted her head and her eyes instantly sparkled all over again with excitement for the trip! 

“I didn’t get to see much my first trip there. It had been a short one and I left longing to see more.”

It had been a bit of short reprieve get-away the first time Georgette visited Greece. It was before she had been raped and her world consisted of constant publicity/paparazzi. She had felt so caged up in all that notoriety that she simply needed a moment to breathe and escape. Greece served her perfectly for those means.

She had loved all the cultural experiences she was able to gain in the short amount of time there. Now, however, she felt like she wanted to enjoy a more relaxing trip one in where she could delight in the beauty that Greece had to offer. 

“I went to Crete and I really enjoyed my trip there. I wouldn’t mind going back but I have never been to Santorini.”

Georgette’s smile grew wider and her energy had shifted to a more energetic eagerness at the mention of the island. 

“I heard it’s beautiful.” And less stimulation than Mykonos, which she needed. She didn’t want to be tempted back into her old alcohol days. “Have you been there before?”

HERCULES: “Nah, I was in Athens for the most part which--despite all the amazing art, I would not exactly recommend. It’s really, uh, busy and--smelly? The sanitation people go on strike a lot.”

Which, y’know, good for them, but it definitely led to unpleasantness. And probably would not be good for his girlfriend’s delicate sensibilities. (This was mostly just a joke, but was also...well, kind of true. Georgette was Georgette, after all. She wasn’t going to shake her beauty pageant days quite so easily or quickly. Hercules wasn’t even sure she entirely wanted to--and he was okay with that. As long as it wasn’t the toxic shit. Wasn’t anything bad about wanting to look nice.) Too bad everywhere you had to throw your toilet paper in the wastebasket. 

At least Santorini was a lot quieter. 

That was because it was the bougie resort island. Not that it was any less authentic, but it was nice and quiet, which would be good and besides--

“We should go there, then, yeah? Because neither of us have been? It’ll be a new experience! My Greek is a little rusty but I’ll brush up and, uh, take off work when we decide a time. August is busy but we will make it work. I’m--excited. I’ve never--done something like this before.” He meant a vacation, but also, going somewhere with a girlfriend. Like a Real Adult. 

He leaned in and kissed her softly, before pulling back and grinning. “It’s gonna be so much fun!”

[gothedistance-herc]

All Time Chump ⚡ [Hercette]

@perfectisme-georgette

Hercules had been hiding. 

He’d been hiding and a coward, and eventually, that self-loathing had driven him to leave the house. It was the Wednesday after the events of prom and the high of his decision to get rid of his powers had worn off the moment Peg’s fist had connected with his face. (He was sporting a lovely crescent bruise beneath his eye, which he’d marveled at in the mirror. He’d never had a bruise before.) 

Eventually, though, he had to leave. Wearing a hoodie, of course, and under the cover of the half-light of sunset, he set out on a mission. 

Now that he didn’t have his powers, he couldn’t hurt anyone anymore--at least, not physically. But, he knew he could hurt them emotionally. And that he had. There was--so many people he’d hurt. Elena and little Isabel and Mateo and Naomi. Gabe, of course, who was in a coma. Who may never wake up. Who Hercules may’ve killed.

The thought made him sick and he couldn’t look Elena in the face. Not yet.

There were plenty of other people he needed to apologize to. So, he would do that first. Like a test run. 

Hopefully, she didn’t hate him.

He knocked on her door. Knocked on it loud enough for her to hear, but not hard enough to hurt (you’d be surprised how hard that balance is to achieve, when you always had to knock as softly as possible and be heard every time regardless.) There were a few moments where he teetered. Wondering if she was even home. 

He hadn’t called ahead. Her voicemails still hadn’t been listened to on his phone. Her calls and texts had gone unanswered. 

But, after a few moments, the door opened.

“Before you slam the door in my face,” Hercules blurted out quickly and shoved his gifts out between them, “I brought you flowers--they’re--they’re just roses because--well, the--the shoppe doesn’t sell cherry blossoms and, uh--I-I bought chocolate too, to--make up for it.” He held them out and hoped she didn’t slam the door on him. Though, she could. He wouldn’t blame her.

[gothedistance-herc]

People Do Crazy Things ⚡ [Hercades]

In which Hercules goes to Hades help after the events that transpired on the evening of July 6th. [read more here]

@trip-downtheriverstyx, @perfectisme-georgette

[tw -- gore, dead bodies, death]

HERCULES: It was raining hard when Hercules finally made it to the door of the Acherons’. He had not figured out what he was going to say, he had no idea how to explain, how he was going to convince them to help him. All he knew was that Georgette was dead. It was his fault. And if he had any hope, any hope at all, of saving her, it was going to be Hades.

He’d do anything to make the man open the Gates of the Underworld.

That was all he knew as he came to a stop outside their door. There was a light on in the living room, illuminating the front door halfway in golden light. It shined upon Georgette’s hair. Usually, Hercules knew, that kind of light would hit it so it glowed like a halo, but even her hair was lifeless, stuck to her face in ringlets, wet from the rain. There were leaves in it and dirt smeared through it.

Hercules’ arms trembled with the weight. He was not used to carrying such a burden. Georgette hung heavy in his heart, just as she hung heavy in his arms. That heart of his, though, it beat furiously on. Even when it felt like it was going to burst right out of his chest.

He hoisted Georgette higher, lifting her towards his chest and onto his biceps, so that he could knock at the door. The sound echoed dull and haunting, like the hollow tick of a clock, still moving ceaselessly in an abandoned place.

It felt like eternity before the door opened, the light sliding open to reveal them both.

“Please,” Hercules said, looking up at Hades’ stony face, “help her.”

“Oh my god,” gasped Belle startling to a stop as she came up behind Hades.

HADES: Literally nothing good had ever come from a stranger appearing at Hades’ door.

He could count the amount of times now where a knock disturbed the peace that he and Belle fostered here together. This home was supposed to be their safe space. Wasn’t that the point? Hades figured that was the point, or so he’d read in books and seen in movies, even if every home he’d ever known would have uninvited guests no matter what, as the dead flocked to him, moths to his eternal, blue flame. But Hades knew how to deal with ghosts. For Hades, ghosts could be just another quirk of the foundation-- the creaking staircase, the door that sticks, rattling pipes. Every house had such quirks.

But not every house attracted trouble like this one did. First a dragon, then a vampire, then a vengeful, psychopathic muse, then a piss-poor, long-lost father. What could possibly come next?

So when the knock came, Hades knew they shouldn’t get it. Nothing good waited for them. It was raining, it was late, Belle was not expecting anyone and Hades had no one to expect. He had no missed calls or unseen texts.

He didn’t budge from the armchair; he just stared at the door, almost like he was challenging it.

“Hades?” Belle called from upstairs; she’d just been out before the rain unleashed, visiting Phillipe, and so she went to change out of her boots. “Is someone at the door?”

No, he wanted to say.

Oooooh, this is a good one, whispered the ghosts.

The knock came again: knock-knock-knock.

He heard the stairs creaking. It was the stairs, Belle’s impending arrival, that got Hades’ up out of the chair and to the door first, to intercept it. If they were going to be facing their next threat, he’d prefer to be the wall in front of Belle. He flung the door open, about to snarl at their intruder to leave--

The intruder was Hercules, walking disaster, and he held a dead body.

“Oh my god,” gasped Belle. Hades’ face remained neutral. He put his hand on the other side of the door frame, making a physical barrier to keep Belle on one side, Hercules on the other. He stared at his desperate, wet, terrified face, a face he actually knew quite well. For every person who hissed and spat at Hades and Persephone, there was another just like Hercules-- who believed that death could be fixed.

Death could not be fixed (unless you were Hades. But this boy was not Hades.)

“Not everyday someone shows up with a dead body on our doorstep,” he quipped. His eyes remained hard. “You’re in the wrong place, mate. I suggest you take that girl to a hospital before we call the cops.”

HERCULES: Dead body, Hades said, and Hercules’ heart twisted.

He knew it was true, though. Georgette’s skin was cold to the touch, no trace of warmth or liveliness upon her cheeks. It had taken him too long to get the tree off of her. Too long. He’d killed her—because he had wanted to be normal. And now, his arms quivered to hold her. He felt like he was on the verge of collapsing. His stomach felt sick

Hercules had never felt so awful in his entire life.

“It’s my fault,” he blubbered, his words choked as they came out of his throat. “But I-I want—I need to fix it.” His fingers curled into Georgette’s shoulder, holding her body closer to him.

He had managed to go his whole life without killing anyone, but now that he didn’t have his powers, he’d been helpless to save someone. He could hear the Fates laughing, as if they were standing on the doorstep with him.

Hercules didn’t know what had driven him to Hades’ door, but he couldn’t stop now. It was the desperation of a madman, probably, but he didn’t care. If it helped Georgette, if it saved her, he didn’t care.

“Please, she—she doesn’t—I just—I’ll do anything,” he begged, not above getting down on his knees to do so.

He meant it. He’d do anything to bring her back.

“Hades,” he heard Belle murmur, touch her husband’s side.

Hercules didn’t look away from Hades’ face.

“Hades, we should let him in,” Belle said, firmer now. “At least, out of the rain, until the ambulance comes.” She turned her face to smile gently at him, Hercules’ eyes darted to her face like a moth to a flame. He took a step forwards, drawn towards her.

“Please,” he said again, “she’s—so heavy.” His voice broke off in a sob and he dropped his head as it shook through him.

He missed the look that Belle gave to Hades, moving closer towards the frame of the door, edging him slowly out of the way.

“If you come in, you’ll let us help you, yes?” Belle coaxed him, ducking her head a little to draw his line of vision backup to her face. She smile sweetly.

Hercules knew she didn’t mean bringing Georgette back to life, but he was so exhausted. Hades was his last hope. He felt as if some string had been cut and he was falling through the center of the world—down, down, down.

“Yeah, I-I’ll—yeah,” he told her, meeting her gaze for a moment. It was just a moment, because the next second she looked at Hades and reached up to put her hand on his forearm, to draw it away from the frame of the door.

HADES: No, Hades wanted to say, as his fingers gripped the other door frame. No-- this is not our fight.

The only problem? That was, maybe, a lie he was telling himself.

Because as Belle coaxed and Hercules wavered where he stood, Hades’ eyes dropped to the lifeless body in his arms. It was not a face he knew well, though he recognized her enough to know she’d maybe come into the shoppe or he’d seen her at an event. He didn’t know her name, because Hercules had not spoken it. But Hades didn’t need these details for his sixth sense to thrum like a second heartbeat inside of him. He looked at her lifeless body, and just as he once knew that the little sparrow he and Ella had rescued was doomed to die, he knew that this woman was meant to live.

A thread, along the way, had split. It was unraveling back, not yet cut, but not yet complete. Hades had never felt this way before. His reaper sense, as he called it, had only bared its unpleasant teeth when he was around the doomed. It was a different kind of stomach-ache then; now, it felt like an itch he needed to scratch. A scab he needed to peel back, so it could heal a different way.

It was like a whisper in his ear, a whisper of a voice he knew…

Belle put a hand on his arm and he started slightly, glancing back up from the girl and looking toward Belle. The colour flushed in her cheeks, healthy and pink and alive. His lips parted like he was going to say something.

But the whisper in Hades’ brain spoke first.

“Come now, Hades-- let them in or they’ll catch their death!” said Atropos behind them, before she cackled.

“Motherfucker--” cursed Hades.

“Shh,” said Clotho. She put a finger to her lips. Her eyes twinkled. “Save your breath.”

The Fates were in his living room.

The Fates were in his living room. Hades half-turned toward them, and saw Lachesis sitting criss-cross on the armchair, Atropos lounging on his couch, and Clotho standing near one of the bookcases, holding a cup of tea-- was that his favourite mug in her hands?!

“Where the hell did you come from--” growled Hades, pushing away from the door frame (so Hercules could enter) and stalking back into the living room.

“A stupid question, though we appreciate the pun,” said Clotho. She sipped her tea. “Isn’t wordplay always fun?”

“Get OUT of MY house--”

“Is your name on the deed?” snickered Atropos.

“And did you miss me?” pouted Lachesis.

“And are you ready for one riddle more?” said Atropos. She sat up, snipping her scissors. “We’ll cut to the chase--”

“We’ve come to erase,” said Lachesis.

“What Hercules has brought to your door.” Clotho adjusted her glasses. She gestured toward the couch and Atropos got up and moved away from it. “Our hero has come a long way, with heavy burden too. Hercules, lay your burden down, and the Fates will help you.”

HERCULES: Hades and Belle shared a look. Hercules didn’t know what it said, but he knew they were communicating with it. He’d seen couples do that before. His mum and dad did it all the time. He’d never had something like that. He’d thought that—maybe now, maybe that he was—normal, he might be able to have that too.

But, now, there was a dead woman in his arms. A woman he cared about. A woman that he, may even, love.

She was dead and Hades and Belle were silently communicating and Hercules had no idea if they were going to help or if they were going to call the police on him. Honestly, if that’s what they did, he wouldn’t stop them. Not now. Even without his powers, all he did was hurt people. He deserved to be in jail.

Another voice spoke, though, one he didn’t know, a shiver running down his spine. Hades and Belle turned at the same time, their bodies opening like doorways, to reveal a woman sitting on their couch. Her cloak was heavy around her shoulders. Green, but so dark it was almost black, and drifted down like smoke, as if she came from flame.

There was another—there by the bookshelf, clad in black, and another—in an armchair, a purple sleeve reaching out to stroke the large hound who’d come to investigate.

Hercules stared.

The girls and Hades traded barbs back and forth, it rose and fell like poetry. Their voices sounded deeper and grittier than one might have expected, especially considering how lightly they spoke.

His eyes trailed to the scissors in the one woman’s hand. They winked in the light, even though they looked dull and old.

When the woman by the door spoke his name, his eyes drifted to hers. He was still holding Georgette in his arms and they were trembling. His legs trembled too. He thought Pegasus punching him in the face was the worst thing he was going to feel but—hold Georgette was like holding the world on his shoulders.

“Hercules, come on, it’s alright,” Belle said softly. He almost had forgotten she was there, standing in the doorway, her hand reaching out towards him. She seemed unperturbed by the women, a smile on her lips for him still. It was that little smile that gave him the strength and the courage to step over the threshold.

It was silent as Hercules knelt at the couch and placed Georgette’s broken body there. He touched her side gently, pulling her shirt back down over her exposed stomach from where it had ridden up. Belle was next to him, with a pillow from the couch to slide beneath Georgette’s head, smoothing her hair down gently.

Like this, she could almost be sleeping.

Hercules knew she wasn’t.

Belle stood next to him, with her hand on his shoulders, the touch warm and comforting. Hercules swallowed the sharp lump in his throat.

“Alright, what do you want with her, then?”

“Mm, always so impatient, Belle,” Atropos clicked her tongue from where she was hovering behind the couch, looking down at the body lying there.

“We were getting there, we won’t dwell,” promised Lachesis, though she wasn’t looking at Belle, but up at Hades, smiling.

“Then tell us what to do, I have a feeling whatever needs to be done will take a while and I’d rather my husband be finished with this sooner than later.” She stood with one of her hands on her hips, glaring at Clotho. “And this poor girl doesn’t need to suffer any more than she already has.”

“Fair enough, my lady,” Clotho told her, taking a sip of her tea, “so smart you’ve always been. Settle down and let the epic begin…”

HADES: He didn’t want to stand for this. Damn the ‘feeling’ in his gut, damn destiny, damn the Fates-- Hades’s nostrils flared as he stared at each Magick and wanted to will them away. Or set them on fire. But he knew that if he so much as tried to grab one, his hand would grasp at only air. Atropos didn’t even have to move if she didn’t want to; the corpse would fall right through her as if she were a ghost.

They weren’t ghosts-- they weren’t even projections, not really. They would not be solid in the Underworld or any other place because the Fates were more force and energy than flesh and bone. If another Magick of a different culture interacted with them, they’d not even appear as three women. The universe bent its magic to the stories that mortals grew up with-- that was the only way that Hades and Belle, and even Hercules, would be able to understand them.

Otherwise, Hades would be shouting at invisible energy, as intangible as the feeling in his stomach, as voiceless as the fire that danced on his fingertips.

You couldn’t kick invisible, universal, omniscient, omnipotent power out of a house.

So he had to stand for this. Un-fucking-fortunately.

“I am sure you know the tales of us three, we the Fates who know the destinies of all. At birth, we measure each hero’s lot, and Atropos decides when death shall call. 

These decisions rarely yield-- though sometimes they can change,” Clotho’s eyes flicked to Belle. “And sometimes other forces do intervene. When such events occur, we attempt to revise… Or sometimes, we discover new destinies unseen.”

“So you can be wrong, and you miss stuff, and nothing is as set in stone as you like mortals to believe, bla bla bla, get to the bloody point,” snapped Hades. He crossed his arms.

“Do you want to attempt to communicate in verse?” snarked Clotho right on back. “Because by all means, Hades, do go first.”

Hades just glared.

“Alright then.” Clotho sniffed, then looked back to Hercules. 

“We Fates wrote no such death for your friend-- she should have been saved by your hand alone. You have a chance to rewrite her end, and through your quest, perhaps, atone. Should you accept the trials before you, then the Ambassador shall bring you and the girl--”

“I’m sorry, I’ll what--” Hades interjected, leaning forward as if he’d not heard correctly. He had.

“--to the Gates, and to the Swamps of Greed and Gluttony, deep within the Underworld.”

“You want me to waltz him into the Underworld?!” Hades exclaimed. He was ignored.

“And after you reclaim the girl’s soul, if not first drowned by the monsters there--follow the River to the Amazons. The Fountain they guard shall answer your prayer.”

“Who the hell are the Amazons? What bloody fountain? There are five rivers, also, by the way--”

Clotho gave him a withering look. “The river that circles the world. Now shut up Hades, and help save the girl.”

HERCULES: Hercules listened. He listened desperately. He didn’t take his eyes off of the woman before him. Hades ranted and raved in the background, but Hercules barely heard him. His heart was pounding hard and fast and certain in his chest. He even leaned forwards on his toes, slightly, like he was going to get a running start. That was how frantic he was. The Fates, the real, honest-to-god(s?) Fates were standing before him, telling him that he had a chance to save Georgette. That he should have already saved her.

That by getting rid of his powers, he had literally twisted her destiny and stolen it away from her.

He didn’t care how he would make Hades listen to him or come along, he would do it. There would be nothing that stopped him, now that he had the blessing of the mystical women.

Go to the Gates. Go to the Swamps. Don’t drown. Find the Amazons. Find the fountain.

Sure, yeah, that was—that was definitely doable.

Hercules wasn’t even afraid. He knew he was mortal now. He knew that he could drown or be killed as easily as anything. He knew that his fate may not to make it back out of the Underworld alive, but he didn’t care.

If Georgette got to live, he’d happily sacrifice his own life to make it so.

He didn’t have questions like Hades did, he just cared about one thing: completing this mission that he had been given. There was only one other thought in his head.

Hercules looked over his shoulder slightly, to where Hades and Belle stood. She had inched closer to her husband as the Fates had spoken and now, there was a worried line creased between her brows. She hadn’t said anything, she wasn’t stopping any of this—for that Hercules was grateful, and it meant, he had to ask—

“Hades—he’ll be alright, yeah?” His eyes drifted to Atropos, with her glinting, rusted scissors.

She wrinkled her nose at him. “Such a hero, to worry so. The Ambassador will be fine. His fate is does not end here. My craft is more divine, our plan for Hades: much more dear.” Her eyes flicked to Hades and Belle and she tilted her head as she eyed them.  

Hercules nodded his head once and turned to look at Hades, standing tall. They were of a height, more or less, though beside Hercules, Hades looked even more pale, even more like a spectre himself. Hercules stepped towards him, but he looked at the woman at his side.

“I’m—sorry, Belle,” Hercules said softly.

She smiled at him and shrugged a little. “It’s his job.” Her hand came up to rest on Hades lower back as she turned her head to look at him. Hercules looked down and away for a moment, feeling ashamed of himself.

“Will you come with me, then?” he asked, glancing back to Hades. “I’ll find a way, even if you won’t.” The Fates hovered just over Hercules’ shoulder. He could feel them close, watching and waiting. He wondered what they would do if he said no.

Hercules almost wished he would. The guilt was already clawing him so deeply, he felt like he may never recover from it.

HADES: It appeared that Hades didn’t have a choice.

Appeared because, of course, Hades did have a choice. If there was anything he had learned in the past three years, it was simply this: fuck destiny. Fuck fate, fuck the Fates, fuck predetermination-- fuck all that stuff. Because Hades had believed very strongly in all those things once, and he’d quickly seen how they had unraveled. From Persephone’s death, he’d had to rebuild brand new ideas about what it meant to be the ambassador-- what it meant to hold the power that he held.

So, the Fates could snark at him all they wanted, but in the end, Hades knew he had the power to say no. He could look down at that woman’s corpse and be judge and juror. Hercules would have to live with his choices just as Hades had to live with his own. (And yes, he did think of Persephone--and how the Fates had been silent when she’d lifted the berries to her lips.)

Course Belle would kick up a fuss. They’d fight. She’d demand a reason and Hades would not have any good one because in the end-- in the end, there was the opposite of that feeling: like Georgette should be alive.

The clock was still ticking. It was not finished. But time would run out.

So Hades would “do his job” or whatever but not because of Hercules’ heartfelt plea or his destiny. He didn’t deserve any second chance, but Georgette didn’t deserve to lose her life over someone else’s mistakes. So for Georgette, Hades would take on the quest.

“No, you wouldn’t,” he said bluntly to Hercules-- because he hated egomaniacal heroes with nothing to back them up. Maybe if he’d still been immortal. “But lucky for you, I will help-- her. I’m helping her.” He looked back at the Fates. “Only one problem-- he’ll die as soon as he walks through the Gates.”

“Ah, perhaps if he were born of a more mundane blood, then the ending would be tragic,” said Clotho. “But his pedigree is strong and so--”

“Can take the magic from the boy, but not the boy from the magic,” piped up Lachesis with a grin. She wiggled her eyebrows.

“Vague and unhelpful as always, thank you,” said Hades. “So you’re saying it’s because he’s not human, he’s-- like a super strong fairy or half-troll or son of an ogre or something.”

“Something like that-- but no time for theories, you must make haste,” said Clotho and she put down her tea on the coffee table. “Georgette’s soul sinks deeper, there’s no time to waste.”

“Yeah, alright, we’re going,” said Hades. He sighed deeply then looked down at Belle. For her, he summoned a small, tired smile. “I’m sure I won’t be gone long. I’ll text you updates.” He leaned down and gently pressed a kiss to her temple.

When he looked at Hercules, there was no such softness, no such affection. He was expressionless. Didn’t even blink as Georgette rose in the air as though lifted by invisible strings. “Let’s head out then, Wonder Boy.”

[gothedistance-herc]

A Hero’s Strength ⚡ [Hercette]

@perfectisme-georgette

A few weeks had passed since Georgette had revealed her trauma to Hercules, and he was doing his best to just--stay normal. He didn’t even know if Georgette remembered or not. Which made him feel super weird, because--well, it was really private, Hercules knew that. And Georgette had been really drunk and you say things you don’t want people to know when you’re drunk, and it felt like some weird invasion of privacy for him to know and Georgette not to know that he knew, but it was kind of hard to bring up in casual conversation like--oh, by the way, you told me your deepest darkest secret and I dunno if you remember or not. And, even if she did remember, he was taking his cues from her and Just Not Mentioning It.

Though, he struggled with that too. Should he mention it? It was obvious from the drunk ramblings that Georgette was not okay. That she needed help. More help than Hercules could possibly give her. It was good if she just--talked about it to someone wasn’t it? She should keep it all bottled up, obviously that wasn’t doing her any good and she should...know that people were supportive and that they believed her and that they were there for her...

Right?

Hercules didn’t know and it was stressing him out. He was doing a pretty good job keeping things #chill, if he did say so himself. Even if he had kind of made more of a point to spend time with her, because he didn’t know if she had any other friends in town really...

Anyway, they were on their way to lunch now, walking along main street. Hercules’ hands were tucked in his pockets, hat pulled down low over his ears, scarf tucked up near his chin. This wasn’t because of the cold--even though it was cold--but because he didn’t want to be recognized. Not after breaking a girl’s collarbone, after ruining a beloved town shop. 

Georgette was just telling him about the new tattoo she was going to get--an olive branch, and Hercules was explaining the importance of olive branch in Greek mythology because he was a huge nerd.

“It’s really funny, because Athens is named after Athena because she gave them the olive branch. Poseidon gave them a spring but it was too sa--”

Hercules’ explanation was cut off by the loud screech of tires. The grounds were still icy and even though Swynlake usually did a great job with keeping roads and sidewalks clear after snow, there was always a chance that they didn’t get all of it, especially on the old cobblestone road. 

He turned to see a car coming straight for them. 

Georgette was walking closer to the road than he was and his heart clenched in his chest. He saw it as if everything was happening in slow motion. There was only a second, two, maybe, between the driver losing control of the car and Hercules grabbing Georgette by the waist and spinning her so that he was between her and the car. He didn’t want to throw her out of the way, because the projection of the car’s path was hesitant at best, if he threw her to the right, the car could go that way--if he threw her to the left, the car could go that way. Instead, he just hunched over, bending so they were back to chest, his other arm coming up around her head just in case. 

The car’s front slammed into his back so hard even Hercules stumbled a step forwards and the back tires came up off the ground. The sound was loud and awful in his ears and for a moment, it felt like the whole world was quaking around them. The metal bent around the two people, making a U-shape, practically caging them in.

Hercules blinked his eyes open, feeling a flame lick at his back. The engine had probably been shoved right into the fuel tank. 

Moving his arms from around Georgette, he stretched them out, so that he split the front of the car in two, giving Georgette room to get out from the wreckage.

“Are you okay?” he asked, panting more from holding his breath in surprise than any real exertion. There was the scent of smoke in his nose. “You--need to go. I gotta--I gotta get the driver.”

[gothedistance-herc]

Band-aids. ⚡ [Hercette]

@perfectisme-georgette

Hercules was on his way to work. Well, he was stopping to get tea from Hatter’s first, because he always brought tea for himself and the other TAs if he knew they were going to be around. And since it was the end of the semester, of course they were going to be around. He had a folder full of essays he’d been grading for Milo tucked under his arm as he strolled down the street.

It was funny in the winter, how everyone tucked down on themselves and walked with their heads tilted downwards, but Hercules didn’t. He walked just like normal, like it was 70 degrees outside and sunny. The cold just never bothered him all that much. He could feel it against his skin, register that it was cold, but it never made him shiver. It never made him sniffle.

And, it was because he was standing up so tall that he managed to spot familiar locks of white-gold hair spilling out beneath a hat and over a fashionable jacket, coming towards him. His face broke out into a smile at once, because he hadn’t seen Georgette since the fair, but he did rather like her. (In a--she was nice and sweet and kind, kind of way. Not in a like-like way, he didn’t know her well enough for like-like obviously, not that she wasn’t pretty or anything because she totally was--oi. Nevermind.)

Anyway--

He picked up the pace a little, walking straight past Hatter’s.

“Oi! Georgette! Hey!” He caught up to her easily, stopping in front of her and giving a smile--but then, not knowing what to say. He realized he’d basically just chased her down the street (okay, it was really only a few steps for him to catch up with her but...still.)

“Uh, hey,” he said again, totally lame, reaching up and rubbing the back of his neck, his head tilting down for the first time and that’s when--he caught the little flash of white on her wrist. His hand automatically came out, like he was going to reach for her, but he dropped it at the last second.

“Are you alright? What happened?”

[gothedistance-herc]

I Have Often Dreamed of a Far-Off Place ⚡ [Hercules, Hades, and Georgette (feat. the Amazons)]

In which Hercules and Hades arrive at their destination and a lot of shit goes down...[takes place evening of July 6th to evening of July 9th]

@trip-downtheriverstyx, @perfectisme-georgette 

[tw -- death, panic attack, mentions of rape, i think that’s it]

HADES: There were not many stories of Oceanus in the myths, and certainly not the ones that Hades had read over and over as a child. Mostly he recalled it mentioned in a line here or a line there. It was the river that circled the world; it was the river where the stars, moon, and the sun rose from; it was the river that the sun god, Helios, traveled, as he moved from East to West. All waters flowed from this river, or so it was said, and in that way it was the opposite of the Styx. It brought not death, but life.

Beyond that though, Hades didn’t know. He had no idea where the river might end, and in fact figured it simply wouldn’t (if it circled the world, it had no beginning or end and so in this way it was like time), and so how would they know when they reached their destination’s shores?

The boat seemed to know; the river seemed to know as it carried them forth. The smell of the swamp faded and the boat cut through the heavy fog until at last the air was clear. Hades leaned over the boat’s edge to peer into the waters, but he could no longer see the souls of the dead there. They had not followed them; the monsters, too, were left behind.

Hades reached forward and let the tip of his fingers glide over the surface. The water glistened cool. It grew blue and bluer still. Toto, I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore, he nearly snarked out to Hercules, but when he glanced toward the soggy demi-god pseudo-hero, he thought better of it.

Still-- didn’t feel like the Underworld anymore, did it? Not, at least, a part that Hades had traversed so far. And wasn’t that a comfort to know, that there was still new stuff for Hades to find.

So he was ready to go exploring himself when the boat finally found its way to a shallow shore, though yeah, the river did continue on. But it stopped and Hades jumped out, feet sinking into the sand. He looked around but there wasn’t much to look at, just one passageway lined with cool gray stone walls. Alright. Might as well go forward then.

They hadn’t walked long before they were stopped by none other than the Amazons themselves.

And oh yeah-- Hades had read myths about these women. A smirk sloped over his mouth. He tilted his head as one of them called him by his title. It made him feel taller, his own magic thrumming through his veins. Times like this, it was good to be Hades, wasn’t it?

And that confidence kept his feet exactly where they were as the Amazons turned to ‘escort’ them.

“Oi, wait a second,” called Hades after them. “Just wanna make sure we’re all on the same page, yeah? We’re here for the Fountain, which I assume you-- always know and that’s where you’re taking us, right? Now, what was that whole whispering thing about? You know something about my mate Hercules that I don’t?”

HERCULES: The Fountain.

And then, Hercules remembered everything that the Fates had said, his task, how he was supposed to do it all. He felt like an idiot, having forgotten.

Go to the Gates. Go to the Swamps. Don’t drown. Find the Amazons. Find the fountain.

“Holy hell, you’re the Amazons!” Hercules blurted, almost stumbling over a stick.

The pair of women looked at each other, unimpressed.

“Yes,” the older one said, after a moment.

Holy hell, Hercules thought again. The Amazons. Legendary female warriors. Guardians of the Fountain of Youth in certain iterations, though the lesser known ones. The fact had been dotted throughout history, but convoluted too, of course. Probably on purpose, to keep people from finding it. But, here they were. The fountain within reach. How many people could say they’d seen that?

Hercules couldn’t think too deeply about this, though, because Georgette was a burden in his arms, a duty he could not forget.

“Wait, you were talking about me?” He glanced at Hades.

“Everything will be explained, Hercules. Hades. Come, this way.”

“Wait, wait--does this...does this have anything to do with the demigod thing?”

Lykopis laughed. “Demigods? That is not what we are.”

“Wait, what do you mean we?!” Hercules blurted, but the two women were already walking away. Hercules wasn’t going to wait for Hades. He could follow or not.

They walked not for long, two--maybe three--minutes. Through thick vegetation, but over a well-worn path that had been walked for thousands of years.

“Is this--India?” Hercules blinked after a moment, recognizing his first home.

“I think that is what it is called these days,” mused the older woman.

“Oh, c’mon Iphito, don’t act so mysterious. Yes, it’s India. Polombe, I think it is called Kollam now.” She shrugged. Iphito smirked.

Hercules could hear the rush of the ocean at their backs, the sound coming clear as he oriented himself. They were walking away from it, though. Deeper into the forest. The trees parted, revealing a sprawling encampment.

“Holy shit,” Hercules said, stopping dead.

Iphito leaned in towards Lykopis. “Fetch Diana and Melani.”

Diana. Son of Diana.

Hercules stomach flipped over and he began to feel sick. “Holy shit,” he said, more of a breath now.

“The Fountain is this way, come. We should hurry. The soul will not stay within the body for long.”

That sprung Hercules into action and he followed after the woman again, towards one edge of the camp and through the trees again. She walked swiftly and with purpose a few strides in front of them. Hercules felt like his chest was bursting.

He turned to Hades, lowering his voice slightly.

“Hades,” he hissed, “I think I am an Amazon!”

HADES: His questions were not answered and Hades wasn’t a fan of that. He lifted his eyebrows and contemplated just staying here. He’d done his part after all-- he, the ambassador, had delivered the Fates’ Chosen One to his destination, with his corpse bride and all. Who said that he needed to poke around this Fountain or hang out with Amazons? Could just hang by the boat. Text Belle more. Take a nap.

He wasn’t going to do those things, if only because he was curious. But he didn’t like being ignored, and while the slight bow his way smoothed over some of that ire, Hades’ respect had not yet been earned. Yes, he knew that the Amazons were stuff of legend; yes, he knew that they held great power, because even Hades’ rudimentary perception skills could feel their thrumming magic, recognizing it as close to his own. It was power that existed beyond life and death, after all. Power that transcended time.

But Hades was like them-- also stuff of legend, also of great power. And he’d made shit decisions in the past. So sue him for not banking on the eternal wisdom of another bedtime story.

He let Hercules fangirl all he wanted-- watched him romp forward like a puppy. Hades cracked his neck, kept his face impassive, and strolled a step behind Hercules and the Amazons, determined to take everything in on his pace instead.

The farther they went, the more time trickled back under Hades’ skin, that strange quiet of the Underworld farther and farther behind. It wasn’t like the entrance to the Underworld at Swynlake at all; there were no steep stairs to climb, no light at the end of the tunnel. They simply were in the land of the living before Hades knew it. He blinked, tasting the fresh air on his tongue.

That was when Hercules hung back one step and told him his big revelation.

Hades chuckled at once. Raising an eyebrow, he shot the kid a look. “Ah, is that so? Would explain some stuff. Thought there were only women amazon though,” he pointed out. “Unless that part’s all made up.”

HERCULES: Hercules frowned, shifting Georgette’s body in his arms, more of a nervous habit than for any reason to need to readjust. Hades was right. The Amazons were women. Famed women warriors, who were equal to men.

Maybe he was wrong…

There was something in his chest that told him otherwise. A feeling. An instinct that he couldn’t quite place the name of.

He watched Lykopis trot off, but his name was called the next moment and he jumped a little before letting out a breath. Shooting Hades a look, he picked his way towards the woman, who had climbed up onto a stone dais. The stones were well-worn. Hercules could hear the trickle of water, but he could not tell where it came from. The basin was filled to the brim with beautiful, crystal water. He peaked his head over the lip to see down into it. It was no deeper than a bath, or a jacuzzi, which felt like an odd comparison to make for the infamous Fountain of Youth. There was a mosaic in the bottom, which reminded Hercules of the baths he’d seen when touring the ruins of Pompeii. There were two fish circling each other, one black, one white, the rest of the tiles shimmering blue.

He wondered who had created it. What gods. What mortal hands. What Magick.

“This will—bring her back?” Hercules asked, turning towards Iphito. She was tall, standing shoulder height to Hercules, and almost as broad. When she moved to shrug, the flowing cloth she wore wrapped around her like a sari rippled like water.  

“Yes and no,” Iphito said, “she will be different. The Fountain can mimic life, but not return it completely.”

“She will—will she be the same?” Hercules asked, his voice taut.

“Her mind, yes. The Fountain is different with each, but that remains the same.”

“I’ll do it,” Hercules said, without hesitating. It didn’t matter to him. Georgette could come out looking completely different, could be shorter, gain more weight, become taller, change the colour of her skin or hair or eyes—it didn’t matter to Hercules. As long as she was still Georgette. His Georgette. The same girl who laughed at his stupid jokes and felt so fiercely about the wrongs that had been done to him in his life. The one who kissed him sweetly and let him hold her hand when he walked her home. The one who wasn’t afraid of him, even though she should be.

“It is yours.”

Hercules didn’t hesitate then, either. He was eager to have Georgette back. To see her smile, the light in her eyes catch like a flame again. To see the blood wash from her hair until it shown like rays of sunlight again.

Walking up the three steps that encircled the basin, Hercules knelt and laid Georgette into the water, which felt cool and light and refreshing on his skin. As soon as she touched it, the water’s ripples became more apparent, washing the blood from her body.

“Let her sink,” Iphito instructed.

Hercules slipped his arms from her shoulders and knees.

She floated for a moment and then disappeared to the bottom of the Fountain, the water turning pink and then red as it swirled around her.

Hercules stayed watching. Transfixed. His heart in his throat.

GEORGETTE: Georgette awoke, eyes opening to a myriad of crystal clear blue water.

There was water everywhere, above and below her, rushing into her ears, active ripples lapping over her skin. She couldn’t understand why she was submerged under water, but her first instinct was to move. She lifted herself up from the water, eyes slowly taking in her surroundings.

Georgette had no idea where she was.

There was thick vegetation in front of her, but unlike the kind that grew around Swynlake. Her legs were now standing firm on what appeared to be.... a basin of water? The ground covered in a beautiful mosaic-tiled pattern not in the likes to anything she had seen before.

She could begin to hear the beating of her heart drowning against her own ears. It was thready at first, small, almost insignificant teetering over the line of non-existent. It grew stronger, crushed itself against her chest. It caused Georgette to take a breath in, the first without realization to be taken in since the opening of her eyes.

The oxygen swept through her lungs, filling the empty spaces, but they had hardly felt starved, hardly felt the need for the air that was pushed in.

Georgette dropped her eyes to her body, her clothes were ripped and tattered both shirt and jeans but all washed clean.  Her skin was free of all marks, all dirt and blood but appeared foreign to her own eyes: porcelain like and pristine.

Her hands dropped to her side and there by her right waist Georgette felt—nothing.

That was impossible. There was suppose to be a scar there! Thick with pungent ragged ends. What.... what was going on?!

Georgette felt as though she was covered by a veil of confusion. Everything swirled in a fuzzy haze in her mind, thoughts scattered in broken pieces. She couldn’t even remember the last thing she was suppose to remember,  where she had been, what had happened, or where she was now.

She turned, to find a mirror of faces most unfamiliar to her. Two women with stone impassive features none of whom she knew. A man pale with stark blue eyes whom she didn’t recognized either. Then there was Hercules, a cloud of utter relief settling over Georgette to see that he was at least here. She quickly moved to reach him, ignoring the presence of the others, her eyes filled with a sense of lostness and utter confusion.

“W-where are we? I-I don’t— I don’t remem—” She paused in mid sentence her brain only now clearly taking in and clicking at seeing  Hercules’s full appearance in front of her. “Hercules, why—why  are you wet and covered in-in black, thick, murky stuff?! What happened?!”  

HADES: She will be different. The Fountain can mimic life, but not return it completely.

At these words, Hades lifted his head and appraised the scene before him: the basin where the fountain waited, Hercules with his arms trembling as he held his love, and the Amazons, guards over life and death-- or so it appeared. Hades was not sure where he was supposed to fit into this scene, if his job was to remain the quiet third party, mediator between the worlds all, and nothing more than that. If that was so, he was supposed to be impartial here. It was Hercules who made the decision, and now Hades felt that it wasn’t the Fates’ intention to, necessarily, resurrect Georgette at all-- rather it was to move the chess pieces and put Hercules here.

This is about his damn tapestry, isn’t it, he thought to himself. They want to see what he’ll do.

But they must have known. Hades knew, after all, what Hercules would do and he barely knew the bloke at all. And sure enough, Hercules didn’t hesitate, only stumbled forward.

He wondered if Hercules thought, for a moment, what Georgette might want.

But then she was in the water and it didn’t matter.

The air grew water, besides the rushing of the fountain, the water sounding like any water, but Hades knowing it was anything but, the magic that emanated from the basin. He waited, his eyes flicking between that basin and Hercules, who looked like he was a second away from collapse. But the fountain would work. Hades knew that the fountain would work.

It didn’t take long. Maybe only a minute. And then Georgette emerged from the water with a heavy, dragging gasp, taking her first breath for her second chance of life.

Hades stepped back, as if he was sinking into the shadows of the scene-- content to watch, curious to see what happened next.

HERCULES: Hercules held his breath. He stepped back off the dais and he held his breath, hoping with all the hope left in his body. This had to work. The Fates were cruel, but they were also just. Georgette was not supposed to die now, so she couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She would live. Hercules could wash this mistake from him in the water too. As it scrubbed at Georgette, it scrubbed at Hercules too, and he felt his heart lighten.

And then, Georgette’s head lifted from the water, the rest of her following. Her clothes were still torn, part of her thigh and bra and arm peeking through, but she was whole and perfect again. Her hair shone like strands of sunlight. Her eyes sparkled, as blue as the water all around her. Hercules let out the shaky breath he’d been holding, the relief flooding through him like he had been dunked in the fountain too.

He clamped his own hand over his mouth to contain the sob that shook through him, the tears blinking out of his eyes. Cool with their relief. They were grateful, thankful tears.

Georgette caught his eye and reached towards him.

Hercules reached back automatically. He didn’t even think about it. His powers were back, but they had been gone for days and days, and he’d gotten used to holding Georgette. Touching her without being afraid of what he could do to her.

Their fingers brushed, and her skin was cool from the water, but there was the unmistakable, inextinguishable warmth of life beneath it. He slid his hand under her palm, so that he could help her down from the pool and the three dais steps. He reached up and tucked some of her hair behind her ear, chuckling lightly at her bewilderment. Seeing it now, he thought—that was the moment that he may’ve first fallen in love with her. Among the smoke and fire of that awful car accident, Georgette’s blue eyes wide with surprise, her spluttering so endearing.

He cupped her cheek and brushed his thumb over the smooth, porcelain skin. Just as he had remembered it. All of her, exactly as he remembered.

“Shh,” he hushed her gently, his words fond and chuckled up, that relief still escaping him. Too big to keep inside his chest. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay. You’re okay. Bloody hell, Georgette, you’re okay!” Without thinking about it, he pulled her into a hug, his hand smoothing down over the back of her wet hair.

“I’ll explain everything,” he murmured to her, the relief now hot and wet in his throat. “I’m just so glad you’re alright.”

GEORGETTE: Georgette was genuinely confused.

Everything still felt so scattered, broken pieces trying to assemble back together like the ends of a jigsaw puzzle. She still couldn’t remember much. She didn’t know what brought her to where she was now, why her clothes were ripped, why Hercules appeared the same if not worse.

What she remembered last was taking a walk with Hercules and then everything sort of went blurry from there.

But Hercules was here now, his hand gently touching the skin of her cheeks feeling so soft and warm, his eyes brimming over with tears. He kept saying that she was okay and Georgette.... she couldn’t understand why.

Had something happened?

Hercules pulled her into a hug and for a brief moment she allowed all of her confusion to wash away so that she could be engulfed in his arms. Her own came up so that they were able to wrap themselves around the nape of his neck, fingers curling into his hair.

She hugged him tight because even though she may not know what was going on, she knew Hercules had gone through something and she was glad he was okay.

Georgette pulled back slightly her eyes falling over the faces around her in whom she was still unfamiliar with. Suddenly she felt—exposed. She was standing out in the open with very tattered and ripped clothing even parts of her bra was showing through the rips.

It was uncomfortable. She felt small and vulnerable around people she didn’t know. Georgette stepped closer into Hercules’s arms where she often felt safe.

“Hercules....” She whispered, almost in a fragile voice. “What.... what happened?”

HERCULES: Georgette hugged him back. It was a fierce kind of hug. The kind that would knock one of them off balance if they weren’t careful, one of them pushing too hard and then they’d fall over. Hercules had never had a hug like that. He couldn’t hug people, not usually. They hugged him and that was it. Sometimes he could hold them loosely in return, but not in any significant way. It felt natural to hug Georgette now, though. They’d been doing that for weeks--hugging, kissing, holding hands. Because they could do that. Because Hercules didn’t have his powers--

Holy shit. Hercules had his powers back.

He felt himself freeze, all that relief flushing out of him, like someone had pulled a plug. Now, he was terrified that if he moved, just a little, he would do something to hurt her. That would be something the Fates would absolutely love, wouldn’t they?

The hero saves the girl, just to murder her in his relief.

(It would echo the story of the original Hercules to a laughable degree, wouldn’t it? The poor sot had killed his wife and children in his madness.)

There was no such thing a happy hero.

Georgette pulled away and he watched as her gaze darted from face to face and he felt her step closer to him. That urge to protect rose up in him automatically and he shifted his body as carefully as he could to cover as much of her as possible from the eyes of the other people witnessing their reunion. It wasn’t too hard, she was tall, but so was Hercules--and broader too.

He looked down at her as she spoke and smiled again, though--he didn’t know how to explain. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her more, confuse her more, or scare her more. There really wasn’t any way around it. There was no good way to say that someone had died.

“I--” Hercules started and the tears came back, squeezing his throat tight with guilt. “I saved you. I-I couldn’t--but--I did. We’re--it’s--it’s the Fountain of Youth, like--like the stories.” He said this because he knew Georgette liked those stories, he’d told her so many of them. And she was surprisingly knowledgeable about many of them.

GEORGETTE: I saved you.

But.... saved her from what?

It was all Hercules now, the only person she could see in front of her. He had managed to block the faces of those she didn’t know with his body and that gesture had brought her a tremendous measure of comfort. She felt a soothing ease settling over her skin that small sense of trepidation that came with her feelings of vulnerability simmering down.

Hercules always knew what to do to make her feel comfortable again, to make her feel safe.

She looked into his eyes now those dark, deep and beautiful rich brown eyes that she had grown to become so fond with.

They were filling up with tears though some coursing down the skin of his cheeks. Her hand lifted, fingers gently wiping at the fallen tears to brush them away. She couldn’t understand why they were forming at all.

I couldn’t but I did.

Georgette tried to wrack through her brain, tried to see if she could remember anything past their walk so that maybe she could understand what Hercules was speaking about. It was all such a blurry whirlwind of a haze parts and sections all tangled up and webbed a mush... but something must have happened then, something that caused all these ripped up clothing and Hercules to well up in tears.

It’s the Fountain of Youth.

Georgette blinked confusion evident on her features. She has heard of the legendary fountain it’s water rumored to have restorative powers but that was all.... stories..... wasn’t it? She turned her head gaze falling over the pristine clear water so beautiful and serene.

Even if it was true Georgette couldn’t understand why there would be a need for restorat—

And suddenly it all began to hit her the scattered bits and pieces falling into place.

The walk, the tree, the searing and excruciating pain that had lashed in anger through every inch of her body— “Oh my god I-I—”

Georgette couldn’t even finish her sentence much less speak. All sense of words were ending up choked up in the back of her throat. It was like her world had been suddenly snatched from right  under her feet. All air was being ripped from her lungs, and tears began pooling in rushed streams in her eyes. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t talk, she couldn’t move.

She died, oh god, she had died!

HERCULES: Hercules knew he wasn’t being the most eloquent storyteller at the moment, but when was he ever? He was a bumbling, inarticulate idiot most days--and now was no exception. Now, the relief and the excitement tangled the words on his tongue and he didn’t care to explain the nitty-gritty details. He would protect Georgette from those, if he could. She didn’t need to hear about the deep darkness of the Underworld. Or how he’d been so afraid he’d never see her smile again or hear her voice.

But, of course, it was going to come back to her.

He watched as Georgette’s eyes widened in shock. His own stomach twisted as she stuttered, the realization slamming into her.

“Hey, hey, it’s--it’s okay,” Hercules murmured to her. They were close enough that he could do murmur like that, so no one else could hear. “You’re alright.”

He wanted to say so many things. Mostly sorry, however. God, he was so sorry, he didn’t even know if he could put it into words. The sorry pumped through his veins, hot and fierce. He wished he could take it all away. He may’ve saved her, but it didn’t feel like enough. He wanted to do more.

“It’s alright,” he said again. “I’ll--I’ll explain--”

“Hercules?”

Hercules stopped talking at the sound of his name. He half-turned to see who had spoken it, still shielding Georgette half-behind him. The woman wasn’t anyone he recognized. Not really. She was beautiful, with long, dark hair and deep, dark eyes. Those eyes were shimmering and she was holding a hand to her heart, like she could keep it inside of her body. There was a girl at her side, looking at him with sharp eyes--also deep and dark, but much colder. Her arms were crossed over her chest.

“Uhm,” Hercules said, as eloquently as ever. He felt something shift, like the earth beneath his feet had begun to turn, even though it stayed solid.

“Oh, it is you!” the older woman gasped, and she did cry then, two tears curving down over her plump cheeks. She reached up and wiped them away, smiling wide.

She strode right up to him, and it was then he saw the spear strapped behind her. He turned fully, Georgette behind him--just on instinct. But the woman didn’t draw her spear like the girl who had first ‘greeted’ him at the entrance to the Underworld. Instead, she opened her arms and threw them around Hercules’ shoulders. She was strong, even with his strength, he could feel it, and he gave a little ‘oof’ as she tugged him down to hug him better.

It lasted for several seconds. Hercules cast a wild, confused look in Hades’ direction, not knowing where else to look or what else to do.

(And he knew, there was some part of him that knew. It was the woman’s reaction. Maybe it was just--instinct. But, he knew.)

The woman stepped back a little, just enough to grab his face in her hands, searching his eyes for a moment. She let out a little breath, a smile, pushed some of his hair back.

“You look just like your father,” the woman said.

Hercules felt his stomach twist inside of him. He blinked once. “Mum?”

Diana nodded, letting out a shaky breath. “Yes, that’s--that’s me. Oh my gods, I never thought I’d ever see you. You’re so handsome, isn’t he handsome, Melani?” She turned to ask the girl she had arrived with, who looked young, a teenager, nothing more.

“Yes, mother,” the girl said dutifully, though her expression didn’t change.

Diana laughed and looked back at Hercules.

Mother. “Is that--”

“Your sister?” Diana said, apparently unable to help herself, “yes. Melanippe.”

“Half-sister, technically.” Melani’s lip twitched, just the slightest bit, but her expression was so stony any movement was easily caught.

“Holy shit,” Hercules breathed out. “I gotta--I’ve gotta.” He stumbled back a step, almost knocking into Georgette, but he managed to turn and plop down on the steps of the fountain putting his hands on his head as he shook it.

“Holy shit,” he said again.

GEORGETTE: No. It was not okay!!! And no. She was not alright!!!! None of this was okay and none of this was alright.

No, no, no, NO!!!!

Georgette wanted to scream to the mountain tops, even to the freaking heavens right now!  But she also wanted to cry. To drop to her knees and allow a waterfall of emotions to drain from her eyes. She had died. She had DIED! And there was no proper form of emotion fit to describe that realization and how it continued to sink deeper and deeper in her head.

She wanted to shout, she wanted to yell, she wanted to scream, she wanted to laugh, she wanted to cry, she wanted to go through the whole damn rainbow of emotions because nothing felt like it was properly working in her mind anymore.

And she could feel tears beginning to stab and collect on the rim of her eyes. They were tears of shock, tears of hurt because it hadn’t been an easy death. It wasn’t like she died in her sleep. She died painfully.  

They were tears of anger because she’ll have to live now tortured by the memory of that pain, just like she had to live tortured by the memory of her rape too. If the death couldn’t have been prevented she should have just stayed dead! It had already happened, she had already died!

There was that part too, this part of Georgette that knew that if Hercules would’ve never relinquished his magic it could have been prevented and that in sorts made her anger simmer more, even when another part knew it wasn’t fair at all to blame this on him.

But that part was only mere whispers in comparison to everything else.

Georgette was getting ready to place into words all that was wreaking havoc in her mind, but was stifled shut by the scene that was currently being played out in front of her.

Apparently, a mother, sister and son reunion.

If Georgette was in a right frame of mind, she would’ve gone to Hercules’s side to offer him support through what was probably a very shocking moment for him now. She would’ve given that teenager a deadly glare for being so apathetic towards the reunion too, but she wasn’t in her normal frame of mind. She was still bleeding from her own wounds and as it was had remained where she stood not wanting to be a part of any of this.

She didn’t want to be here anymore and she could feel those tears started to slowly course down her eyes. Georgette wanted to leave.  

HADES: Well well well. Wasn’t this touching? Looks like Hercules had been right-- he was an Amazon.

Or, well, he was something, wasn’t he? Hades’ eyes flicked him up and down, then slid over to the rest of the women who had gathered. None but Hercules’ mother seemed particularly warmed by the family reunion or even Hercules’ existence in general. Which made sense. Hercules was a boy. Amazons were women. Hades didn’t make those rules; that’s just how the legends go.

And that was why the Fates intervened, wasn’t it? Hades’ mouth twitched, a silent snort of air leaving his nostrils. Now it was making sense.

This wasn’t about Herc’s powers. This wasn’t about being a hero. This wasn’t about second chances and it wasn’t about Georgette; the Fates couldn’t give a fuck about Georgette Midler. She’d been an easy pawn.

They had known that Hercules was born from the Amazons and the only way he’d make his way back here was through the Underworld. He wondered how much of it was orchestrated….the tree that crushed Georgette, if Atrophos had weakened its roots...or if it went even further, back to the chandelier dangling from town hall’s ceiling, which had been the first domino, leading Hercules to give away his powers in the first place.

Only the Fates would ever know because only the Fates saw Hercules’ tapestry. But Hades wondered if Herc would put two and two together. And he wondered-- well then, what next? Because there had to be a reason they wanted the prodigal son to go home.

None of that was Hades’ business. He’d been a pawn too.

Buuuut he was curious. He watched this scene unfolding with little interest to Georgette, mostly wanting to know the same answers that Hercules was probably wondering about now.

“So this is fun,” he finally announced, reminding the Amazons that he were there. Several glances jumped his way and Hades grinned. “Love a good family reunion. Only, see, I’m a bit confused. Aren’t only women supposed to be Amazons?” He tilted his head and made eye contact with Hercules’ mother. “Yet he seems to be, more or less, immortal too. How’s that work out?”

HERCULES: Hercules looked up at the sound of Hades’ voice.

It was silent for several seconds.

His gaze hovered on Diana, but it jumped to Iphito as she took a step forward. Her face was pinched, like she had been sucking on a particularly sour fruit.

“He is not an Amazon.”

Diana glanced away, her arms crossing over her chest—Hercules recognized the stance at once as defensive. How many times had he stood just like that, arms crossed, fingers indenting into his skin? It was like looking into some strange mirror.

“Amazon are skilled warriors. Trained. Poised. And, yes, women.”

Hercules swallowed the lump in his throat. “Then—what am I?”

“A mistake,” Diana said then, looking over at her adult son.

The words pierced Hercules’ heart straight through and it was his turn to look away, tears stinging at his eyes. He let out a shaky breath. That was no more than he had expected. How many times in the last year had he thought it? That he had been given up because he was a mistake. Unwanted. His powers haywire. A freak, for all intents and purposes. Too dangerous.

“That’s what they’ll have you think, anyways,” Diana continued with only a breath of a pause between, but the damage was already done. Even if her face looked stormy now and she came to sit down on the stone dais next to her son. She touched his cheek, stroked his hair. “You were not a mistake. I loved you.”

“So much so that she almost got herself excommunicated. If Amazons could be excommunicated,” his sister, Melanippe spoke up. Her face was still stony.

“Amazons are birthed inside of the Underworld. That is what gives us our powers. Ever since the first Amazon, our queen, Lysippe, wife of the first Ambassador, whose name has been lost to time, gave birth to our first daughter, Anaxilea, within the Gates.” She tilted her head a little, eyes sliding to Hades. “It is why we are honorbound to serve the Ambassadors.”

Her eyes slid back to Hercules. “When we have boys, we do not birth them within the Underworld. We birth them in the First World, and we give them to loving families. Your mother thought that if you were birthed within the Gates, she would be allowed to keep you.”

Hercules turned his head to look at his mother. She was staring stonily at Iphito. The lines on her face were smooth as stone, her skin the same shade of brown as his own. Though, her look matched that of Melanippe. Hercules had never looked so harsh.

“You weren’t allowed?” Hercules asked quietly.

Diana turned to him and lifted her hand to touch his cheek. “No,” she said with a watery voice, that stone-façade breaking as soon as she looked at him. “I fought so hard to keep you, my son. In the end—”

“It was me or you,” he filled in.

She nodded. “I’m so sorry, my son. Your absence has kept my heart broken for the last twenty-three years.” Leaning forwards she touched her forehead to Hercules’.

“We did not know what you would become,” Iphito continued, looking like she had smelled something particularly fowl. “I apologize for any grievances that your strength has caused you.”

Hercules scoffed a little. “Yeah, thanks.”

HADES: All in all, what Diane reported wasn’t far off from the myth after all. It made sense that the daughters of the gods (wasn’t it Ares or something?) would be born in a place like this, and that the Underworld-- Death, itself-- would give them their power, their might, and their brutality. He didn’t know why they would give their males away though, besides he figured...tradition. Or something. But some Magicks were so stuck in their schticks, so superstitious themselves (though they’d probably say they were spiritual-- more in tune with the Powers That Be) that it never occured to them to question why they did the things they did.

At least Diana wasn’t a complete idiot. Though in the end she’d let tradition rule their life.

If it were Hades, he’d be cast out with his son, not let his son rot alone in a world that was not built for him.

But hey, Hades was here to ambassador, not here to pass judgments on these demi-goddesses and the rules they lived by. Though they did say they were meant to serve him…

Too bad Hades was not at all invested in Hercules’ life or what became of him. Anyway, it wasn’t like they could turn back time. What was done was done. Hercules was raised in a mortal realm and Diana had lived without her son. As far as he could tell, they would continue to be separated.

Though-- okay, Iphito, no need to be so condescending.

Hades snorted too then. “Don’t seem sorry to me,” he declared. His eyes jumped to Diana. “You either, Mum. Any mother worth her salt wouldn’t let her kid go. You should have left with him at the very least. Though just so you know--” he gestured to all of the Amazons, “-- far as I can tell, that “no men” thing is a load of outdated bullshit. That’s your Ambassador’s two cents.”

He looked back at Hercules then. “Anyway. You ready to go?”

HERCULES: Hercules had let his eyes flutter closed as his birth mother touched his hair softly, said that she loved him. His heart was a bruised thing in his chest. Between what had happened to Georgette and all of…this, Hercules felt like someone had taken his heart, beaten it, and put it back into his chest. He may have regained his strength, but Hercules didn’t know if his heart would ever recover, or if it would always feel like this heavy thing in his chest.

Hades spoke from behind him and Hercules moved back, eyes opening, though he didn’t look at his mother, but past her. To Georgette, who was standing off to the side, look lost—and…there was an expression on her face he’d never seen before.

That guilt inside of him dug deeper and deeper.

He wished he could drown out Hades’ words, but the man spoke with a finality that sounded hard to argue with. Hercules certain wouldn’t be the one. Though he wished that his mother would. That she would offer some other explanation as to why she hadn’t come with him. Why she had given him up instead.

But, there was silence instead, for several moments.

“You do not get to cast your judgement so quickly, boy,” Iphito said in Hades’ direction, her eyes flashing hard as flint. “Or speak on things of which you do not know.”

But she did not offer any further explanation.

Hercules wasn’t paying much attention. He was watching his mother, as a tear, and then another, slipped down her cheeks.

“You can’t come with us, can you?” he asked, his own voice trembled, too tired to keep itself steady.

“No,” she said.

“She doesn’t want to either. What is there in the mortal world that we would want?” said his half-sister from across the clearing, where she was standing near Iphito.

Me, Hercules wanted to say, but he knew that was hardly a way to sway anyone to his cause. Hercules wasn’t even worth enough for his mother to want to keep him around. He swallowed the word down and grit his jaw. Then, he stood.

His mother stood with him. Her hand was on his arm. They were almost of a height. She searched his face for a moment. “Maybe you can come back, one day,” she said.

“Maybe,” he said, his voice a little harder than he meant it.

Her face balked a bit, but she didn’t say anything. Instead, she reached up to touch his cheek and touch their foreheads again. “I love you, my son.”

Hercules hesitated. He didn’t want to lie and say it back. He didn’t know if he loved her. He didn’t know if he was angry or hurt or—

“I love you too,” he finally said, though he didn’t mean it. He couldn’t help but say it, seeing the look on his birth mother’s face.

He stepped away after a moment, clearing his throat before stepping around Diana and going towards Georgette. He reached out his hand for her, though, dropped it almost as quickly. That was right, he had his powers back. He couldn’t touch her the way he wanted to. There was a part of him that wanted to turn right back around and demand more answers from his mother. But, there was a bigger, more stubborn part of him that didn’t want to ask for her help. She had been the one who put this curse on him in the first place.

“Come on,” he said to her softly, his voice tired, his eyes watering. He lifted his hand to touch her shoulder, as softly as he could, as much as he dared. “Time to go home.”

GEORGETTE: Georgette was standing a small ways off from the scene that was unfurling between Hercules and his mother and half-sister. She could hear words transferring between everyone but most if not all of it wasn’t processing.

She felt far off. She felt…. she felt like that very night she had been raped.

Broken, scattered, fragile. She didn’t know herself, didn’t know where one thought started and the other ended. It was a desperate sort of feeling, anxious and frightening, everything all jumbling up and whirling chaotically together.

And a part of her, a part that could probably be reached hidden somewhere under everything else that was running amok ached for Hercules. She felt for him in having to find out about such a truth in this matter. To have to see a mother who gave him up, and hear from a sister who sounded like a cold stone bitch.

Again, if she had been in her right mind, Georgette would’ve raged at all of them, even if they would’ve most likely kicked her ass in the process (being Amazons and all). No one ever stood up for Hercules, ever, not even his own biological mother who stood right in front of him.

But that wasn’t the Georgette that was standing here and now.

This one was shattering, was the same one from that night that had ruined her and turned her life into shambles.

So when Hercules had placed a tender hand on her shoulder, Georgette flinched. She felt that rigid twitch of a movement shake all the way down to her toes. Her skin crawled, it tightening and grew squirmish all in the same way it did with everyone she didn’t know, with those she felt threatened by, when she felt unsafe. It was when the tears began to fall one by one from the blue of her eyes.

This was Hercules, her Hercules, her sweet and kind and gentle Hercules. He was the one person after everything who had believed her and helped her. He was the one person she grew safe in being around with, who for once she felt comfortable in being herself with.

And now when he touched her, her body just felt repulsed. The knowledge of it all broke her.

She was right back where she started. After everything, everything Georgette was right back where she started. Right back to where she had been running from, right back from where she had been trying to fix and better herself from. Right back. All of this had brought her right back and her mind couldn’t stop from yelling at her of how it all could’ve been prevented.

Georgette looked at Hercules her eyes water filled, but those blue hues far off, rigid and cold. “I can’t.”

She choked, her words filled in grief and anger and a lostness she didn’t know if she would ever recover from. She shoved her shoulder back, her arms moving upwards to curl themselves around herself in a tight hug as she stepped back.

HERCULES: Georgette pulled away from him.

He should have expected it, but he didn’t. After a week, a little over, of touches here and there--casual, hardly a thought to them--he hadn’t thought much about this one either. He had thought careful and don’t hurt her, but he hadn’t thought--don’t scare her. And she had that wide, terrified look in her eye. Hercules had seen it there before, though rarely directed at him. She flinched away like--

Like she expected him to hurt her.

It was like she had drawn back an arrow and shot it right at him with that movement. His own face crumpled and he curled his hand back, dropping it down to his side.

“No one is gonna hurt you, Georgette,” he promised her softly, trying to catch her eye--but it was far off and glassy. It reminded him of how she had looked before she had died. Wide-eyed and terrified and not looking at him at all. Already gone--too full of pain to say anything or even look at him properly.

He felt the exhaustion heavy on his shoulders then. He didn’t know what to do.

“Georgette--”

“You cannot stay here, girl,” Iphito said then, stepping up alongside Hercules. “You must go home. You do not belong here.” Her gaze went from Georgette to Hercules to Hades, like she was casting a net about them. “None of you do.”

“Yeah, got that, thanks,” Hercules said before turning back to Georgette.

“It’s alright, no one is gonna hurt you. Let’s--let’s just go home.”

Iphito stepped away, then.

Hercules did too, backing down the dias, but keeping his eyes on Georgette, coaxing her along. He didn’t look at his mother. They had already said goodbye. His sister, apparently, had no words for him, and he didn’t know what he would say to her either.

Instead, he glanced at Hades. “Don’t touch her,” he told him, more as a warning than a threat. Georgette looked a second away from shattering into pieces and he knew anything could trigger her, even a friendly hand on the shoulder. He didn’t want to get two rings into the Underworld just for Georgette to fall apart in the middle of the marshes, or on the neverending paths.

He just wanted to get through it in one piece.

He just wanted to get home.

[gothedistance-herc]

Timber  ⚡ [Hercette]

@perfectisme-georgette

The last week and a half had been torture. 

Pegasus wasn’t talking to him. They were barely even around. Hercules had no idea where they went off to. (That wasn’t true, he knew--it was Woody’s place. And that stung, Herc wasn’t even sure why, he just knew that it did.) He felt like he’d lost all the friends that he’d met since he’d come here. Not that he wasn’t used to that--but--

Gabe was still in a coma.

Gabe wasn’t waking up.

Hercules went to bed and stared up at the ceiling, feeling his heart beating fast in his chest. He stared up at the ceiling and wished that he could take Gabe’s place. That he could do--something. 

He was exhausted. He was barely eating. (Once, that wouldn’t really have been a problem, but now, he felt more tired, and more hungry, and more sad than he ever had in his life. He had never realized how depression took a toll on the body, the physical self. Before, he’d just been locked in his brain, but now, it felt like it had spread through him.)

There was one bright spot, though--like a single star in the night.

Georgette.

They didn’t see each other every day, but almost. It was quiet usually. They didn’t talk a whole lot. Watched crap telly, went for walks, when it was half-dark, when people wouldn’t be able to recognize him. It was similar to when they’d just been...friends. Except now, when they sat on the couch, sometimes Georgette would lean against him. Except now, they held hands when they walked. They said hello and goodbye with a gentle kiss. 

That was what they were doing now, walking. 

It was hot (Hercules wasn’t used to hot), but he had his hoodie on regardless, one of his hands shoved in his pocket. The other held Georgette’s and he marveled at the smoothness and softness of it. He could squeeze it to point something out to her and she wouldn’t wince in pain, just turn to look where he was pointing. 

“There are more trees over there than there was the other day,” Hercules commented quietly as they strolled. He squinted a little. “The treeline is moving closer.” His lips twitched in a small frown.