"Iolaus, stop wiggling."

"I can't help it. I'm sick of lying in this bed with nothing to do. I want to get up." The Golden Hunter squirmed uncomfortably and then gasped as pain lanced through every part of his body. "Oh Tartarus, that hurts."

"I told you to stop wiggling."

"I want to get up."

"Well, you can't�not for at least a week. You have a six-inch gash in your leg, right to the bone. There's a lot of damage and Milius says he done all he can, it's up to the gods now. But you have to lie still."

"Up to the gods!" Iolaus squawked. "Oh boy, am I in trouble."

"Milius says if you rip open the stitches, he may have to take your leg off."

"You wouldn't let him do that." Iolaus regarded the demigod uneasily, "would you?"

"Well, if it meant a choice between that and letting you d�d�d�"

"Still having trouble with the 'd' word, huh, Herc?"

"A little."

Iolaus sighed and twisted a bit in his nest of pillows and blankets. An action he instantly regretted. He winced, gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Ribs still pretty sore, huh." Hercules patted the hunter's bandage-wrapped torso sympathetically.

"Only when I breathe."

There was a strained silence. Hercules looked down at his partner, worry etched in every line of his face, while Iolaus stared determinedly at the ceiling counting the brown water-stains. Again.

"Still twenty-three."

"Iolaus, it hasn't rained since you've been here."

"What? It's been weeks. Is there a drought?"

"It's only been three days, Iolaus."

Iolaus groaned. "You've got to be kidding. It feels like months."

"Iolaus, you were unconscious for two of those days, you just woke up last night."

Iolaus turned his head to look up at the demigod sure he was being ragged again. "Ouch!"

"Head still hurt?"

"Yeah."

"Still feeling dizzy?"

"Uh-huh."

"You hit your head on a rock when you fell."

"Tell me about it. I don't remember."

There was another brief pause while Iolaus closed his eyes and relaxed into his pillows willing the pain in his head to subside. Hercules watched him helplessly.

"You want another pillow?"

"I have six already."

"Are you warm enough?"

"Will you quit with the mother-hen routine?" Iolaus said in measured tones, cracking open one eye to glare at the demigod. "I have three blankets already and you just built up the fire again and it's hotter than Tartarus in here. Of course, I'm warm enough."

"I don't want your cold to get worse. Milius says it could easily turn into pneumonia. And I am not a mother-hen."

"You are too."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Not."

"Am." Iolaus whispered and then yawned.

"You look tired, maybe you'd better take a nap."

"Don't want a nap."

"Are you hungry. Do you want some more soup?"

"Do bears live in the woods? Of course I'm hungry. But I don't want any more soup. I want roast rabbit or a big juicy boarsteak or�."

"Milius says�."

"Milius says�Milius says. What? Did Aesclepius die and make Milius the God of Healing? Herc. I'm starving."

"Until you're better," Hercules explained, still patient, "you get soup." The demigod started to get up. "Now, shall I bring you some?"

"Don't bother," Iolaus grumbled ungraciously. "I'll just starve."

"Fine." Hercules sat back down again and reached for a cup that sat on the bedside table. "It's time for your medicine anyway."

"I think I'll take that nap now."

"After you take your medicine."

He slid one hand under the hunter's head, lifted him gently and placed the cup against the blonde's lips. Iolaus sighed resignedly but dutifully swallowed its contents. "Grwp," he squawked, his face a mask of revulsion. "Milius' medicine is the only thing that tastes worse than yours. Couldn't you put some honey in it or something?"

"Sorry, I couldn't find any. But it's good for you. Make you feel all better " Hercules laid the hunter's head back down on the pillows and patted his shoulder gently carefully avoiding the bruises.

"Yeah, right"

They lapsed into a silence that lasted until Hercules smiled brightly and held up a long, thick tree branch he had been whittling on. "Look Iolaus, I'm making you a crutch. Milius says you can't put any weight on your leg until it's completely healed, so when you can get up you can use this to get around."

"Good thinking Herc." The hunter retorted sarcastically. "But how am I going to use it with one arm broken and the other sprained?"

Hercules' face fell. "By the time you can get up your sprained arm should be much better, and," he added his voice rising, "you don't have to be so nasty. I'm just trying to help."

"Okay, okay, Herc. Chill down."

But Hercules had lost his already frayed temper. "And," he shouted above the hunter's voice, "If you had looked before you leaped, you wouldn't be in this mess."

"Looked before I leaped! If you were being chased by a great big three-headed, blood-sucking, flesh-eating slimy gray monster thingy, I'd like to see you look before you leap."

"But you jumped right off the edge of the cliff! By rights, you should have broken every bone in your body instead of just half of them."

"And I wouldn't have been on that cliff if you hadn't decided to take the shortcut."

"Well, I didn't know there was a monster up there and I told you�"

"Right. Told me. You're always telling me. Like I was some dumb kid or something."

"Yeah, well, if the boot fits�" Hercules took a deep breath and began again evenly. "And I told�I mean I suggested�politely� that it was not a good idea to poke it with that stick."

"I thought it was dead." Iolaus said reasonably.

"Well, it wasn't, was it?"

"It is now, isn't it?" Iolaus grinned at his partner sunnily. "Good kill, Herc. Er�you did kill it, didn't you?"

"Dead as a door hinge."

"So if I hadn't of poked it awake, it would have eventually hurt someone else. So we're heroes. Again. Right?"

"Right." Hercules looked down at his lifelong friend and partner. "But you were nearly k�k�killed," he stuttered. "I almost lost you again." His voice choked on the words.

"Aw. Herc. Don't start. I'm going to be fine." Iolaus patted the demigod's arm consolingly, and then convulsed with a fit of coughing. Hercules shot out of his chair in alarm.

"I knew it. I knew it. You're coming down with pneumonia. I'm going to get Milius."

"Relax, Herc." Iolaus gasped around coughs. "I'm okay, really. It's just a little congestion."

"Are you sure?" Hercules stood by the bedside, uncertainly

Iolaus smiled up at him reassuringly "See?" He picked up the demigod's hand, wincing a bit as the sprained muscles protested, and placed it on his forehead. "No fever."

"Hmm. You feel a little warm."

"Of course. I got a cold. Just a little cold. I'm fine."

"Well, alright, but I'm going to keep checking. If you get any warmer, I'm going to send for Milius."

"Okay."

Hercules sat down again contenting himself with making sure the bandages were clean and secure before tucking Iolaus warmly into his blankets, fluffing his pillows, and now and again placing his hand against the hunter's forehead, frowning as he tried to gauge the fever.

"Herc?"

"What?"

"Quit fussing."

"Oh, sorry."

Hercules placed his hands in his lap and sat very still watching Iolaus. The medicine was beginning to take effect and the hunter's eyelids were drooping.

Hercules smiled. "Time for that nap now?"

Iolaus sighed and wiggled again. "Yeah, if only I didn't itch so much.'

"It's the hives. You landed right in a strawberry patch."

"I thought you had to eat strawberries to get hives."

"Apparently not." Hercules tugged down the blanket and examined the angry red blotches that dotted the hunter's chest. "If you would only wear a shirt instead of that vest. Do you want me to put some more salve on them?"

"You've already put a whole pot of salve on them. It's not working."

"Yeah, I guess not. Milius is going to bring something stronger when he comes to check on you this evening. Until then, try to think about something else."

"Oh. Okay." The hunter gazed at the ceiling again sleepily, concentrating firmly on the brown water-stains. He had only counted eighteen of them when his eyes slowly closed and he drifted away into slumber.

Hercules sat for a while watching Iolaus sleep, listening to the sounds of his gentle breathing, thankful that the hunter was safe and dry and warm. Thankful for a skillful healer being on the scene, when he had rushed into the village with a shattered Iolaus in his arms, broken arm crudely splinted and blood oozing from the ugly wound on the leg tightly wrapped in Hercules' own undershirt. Thankful that the long two gut-wrenching days of waiting for Iolaus to awaken, always fearing the worst, were finally over.

The sun was sinking and the room was getting dark. Hercules arose, crossed the room to the stone hearth and poked the fire into a steady blaze before laying on more logs, carefully banking them to last throughout the evening. Lighting a small torch at the fireside, he went back to the table and lit the small oil lamp, chasing away the shadows and casting the room in a soft glow. Bending over his friend, he laid his palm gently on his forehead. The hunter was only very slightly warm and breathing quietly and evenly.

Hercules tucked in the blankets once more and sighed with relief. He settled back in his chair, pulling a blanket around his shoulders as he did so. The room was toasty warm, but he felt a little chilled. Maybe he was coming down with Iolaus' cold. That didn't happen often, but it could. He burrowed into his chair looking for the most comfortable spot. The landlady would be up soon with his supper and as soon as Iolaus awakened he would make him take some soup. Rather he liked it or not. Hercules closed his eyes and let his tired head fall back against the chair cushions and soon the only sound to be heard in the room was the crackling of the hearthfire and the gentle snoring of the two great heroes.