SquidgeWorld Archive

In This World of Strangers
by Caroline Crane

I wanted to be like you
I wanted everything
So I tried to be like you
And I got swept away
I didn’t know that it was so cold and
You needed someone to show you the way
So I took your hand and
We figured out that
When the tide comes I'll take you away
If you want to
I can save you
I can take you away from here
So lonely inside
So busy out there
And all you wanted was somebody who cares

-- "All You Wanted", Michelle Branch

A soft sigh punctuated the otherwise still night as Xena crouched next to the fire and watched her traveling companions sleep. Normally they would have made it to Thebes and gotten a room for the night, but after Joxer's panicked reaction to his nightmare their pace had been slower than usual. She was sure he realized that she was keeping an eye on him and that the slower pace was part of that, but she wasn't going to apologize for worrying. Regardless of the fact that he was a grown man and had taken care of himself – somehow, although she still wasn't sure exactly *how* he'd managed all this time on his own – for years before they met, she was responsible for him now and she didn't take that lightly.

Her gaze wandered over to the other figure sleeping in the low light of the fire, a familiar ache tugging at her heart at the sight of golden hair and smooth, pale skin. Ever since Joxer had voiced what she'd tried so hard to ignore she hadn't been able to think about much else. She would have been blind to miss the way Gabrielle looked at her sometimes, or the extra gruffness Xena put behind her own words in an effort to keep her friend at arm's length. It wasn't that she wanted to push Gabrielle away, but for her friend's safety she knew it was for the best. The bard was all Xena had, the only person in the world she could truly count on no matter the circumstances.

Maybe it was fear that kept her from acting on the undeniable bond they shared, but she'd always thought that she did a good job of concealing how much she really cared about her best friend. In fact, until Joxer woke from his nightmare and quietly informed her that she was throwing away something potentially amazing she'd just assumed that no one else knew. And that was another thing that didn't make any sense; wasn't Joxer supposed to have a crush on Gabrielle? So how did this man that seemed so naïve and simple see something that Xena had been so careful to keep hidden? Granted Joxer had been traveling with them more and more frequently in recent months, but she'd never really given much thought to the idea that he might be sensitive enough to pick up on what she wasn't saying. He'd always just seemed so innocent…child-like, really, and Xena had taken on the responsibility of keeping him out of trouble because in spite of his clumsiness she genuinely liked him.

The anguished screams that had woken both her and Gabrielle from sleep that morning made her wonder how well she really knew Joxer after all. In the past she'd always taken him at face value, humored his bravado as best she could and assumed that his overblown self-image was just part of what he considered his charm. The real pain in his voice as he'd called out that name, though…she couldn't ignore that any more than she could ignore the flash of wisdom in his eyes when he'd urged her to explore her feelings for Gabrielle. It was an expression she'd never seen on him before, and she couldn't help wondering how much private pain he kept hidden behind his happy-go-lucky façade.

A familiar, niggling pull at her senses distracted her from her thoughts, and her features darkened into a scowl as she straightened up and looked around at the darkness. "Show yourself, Ares," she hissed, careful not to wake her companions as she waited for War to appear.

"I hate it when she does that," a familiar voice said a moment before two figures materialized, and Xena's guard dropped marginally as she realized that it wasn't War she sensed, but Cupid and…Strife?

"What do you two want?"

Strife snorted his amusement from just behind Cupid as the Love god crossed his arms over his chest and sniffed indignantly. "It's nice to see you too, Sis."

"Don't call me that," Xena said, only allowing the faintest trace of exasperation to creep into her voice. She knew he'd never stop, if for no other reason than because it annoyed her. It was a familiar, albeit tiresome, game they played whenever their paths happened to cross. "Why are you here…and with Strife? Ares is too busy to do his own dirty work now?"

Both gods smirked at the disgust in her voice, the similarity of their expressions startling her in spite of her resolve not to let them get to her. It had been a long day and she wasn't in the mood to deal with what passed for fun in their minds, especially not if it came at her expense.

"Nah, Unc doesn't even know we're here," Strife said, although the expression on his face did nothing to convince Xena that she should believe him. "Just doing a little digging around for Aunt 'Dite."

"Aphrodite?" Before she could stop herself Xena's gaze flitted toward Gabrielle, but as soon as she caught sight of the other woman she remembered herself and shifted her attention back to the gods. "What does she want with us?"

"Not you," Cupid corrected her. "We're here to talk to Joxer."

A sudden flash of Joxer screaming and thrashing about in his sleep rocked Xena, and she paled as she glanced over her shoulder at the sleeping man. It couldn't be possible that his dreams had something to do with the house of Love, could it? When he'd woken them up that morning he'd sounded like he was being murdered, but if she really stopped to think about it she could vaguely remember traces of heartbreak in his anguished expression. "He's asleep," she said quietly, hoping he still was so her half-brother and cousin wouldn't get a chance to talk to him. She wasn't sure why, but she had a feeling their sudden appearance had something to do with Joxer's nightmare and she didn't want him to have to relive that any more than necessary.

"What, already?" Strife peered out from behind Cupid, frowning at the sleeping figure on the far side of the fire. "So let's wake him up."

Cupid's gaze shifted from Joxer to his cousin, an indulgent grin lighting up his features at the expression on Strife's face. Xena watched the two of them with interest and more than a little alarm, willing herself not to believe what she was seeing. She *really* didn't need to think about her half-brother…and with her cousin? They were gods and all but Cupid and Strife? It just didn't add up. "You're not waking anyone up," she hissed between clenched teeth. "What do you want with Joxer, anyway?"

"Sorry, Sis," Cupid said, blinking and turning abruptly away from Strife. "Mom says it's top secret, can't tell you. Tell you what, if it means that much to you we'll come back when he's awake. I don't know how you mortals stand it, having to trudge around all over the place all day." Twin shudders rolled through both gods at the thought, and a moment later the spot where Strife had been standing was empty.

Xena gazed expectantly at the remaining god, hands on her hips as she waited for him to finish his thought and follow his cousin. For a long moment he stood gazing back at her, head tilted slightly and red lips parted as though he were trying to puzzle something out. "What?"

Cupid smirked and glanced over at Gabrielle before turning back to Xena. "If you'd just learn to lighten up you'd be so much happier," he said, ignoring her menacing growl. "Hey, what kind of God of Love would I be if I didn't at least try to get my own sister to stop taking everything so seriously? Watch out for Joxer, we'll be back."

She opened her mouth to remind him that she didn't need to be told to look after her own friends, but before she got the words out the clearing was empty again. The niggling pull that alerted her to the presence of one of her family members was gone as well, and she sighed as she sank heavily onto her bedroll and fixed her gaze on the fire again. So Aphrodite was interested in Joxer for some reason – that just meant that she'd have to be even more diligent about protecting him. She wasn't about to let any of her scatter-brained immortal relatives use Joxer for their own amusement, not as long as she could help it.

~

"So stubborn, just like her father."

"Who?"

A knowing smirk lit up Aphrodite's features as she glanced over her shoulder at her brother. "Xena, of course."

Ares rolled his eyes to cover the irritating surge of pride that always accompanied any mention of his daughter. "What business do you have with Xena?" Surely his daughter wouldn't have any use for the house of Love, not when she was busy doing everything in her power to ruin all Ares' plans. He couldn't really blame her, she was mortal after all. Besides, she thought she was doing the right thing. So she was a little misguided; he couldn't expect her to understand the intricacies of protecting an entire world from their human foibles. And if anything she was just an amusing distraction; nothing she did ever really interfered with his plans, and she was nothing if not loyal to those she cared about. He wouldn't have steered Joxer into her care if he didn't trust her implicitly where her friends were concerned.

"I don't," Aphrodite answered, oblivious to her brother's brooding. She was used to it, after all; Ares was almost always brooding about *something*, it came with the job description. "She just happened to be there when I sent Cupie to do a little errand for me. He keeps hinting around that maybe she'd be happier if she admitted how she felt about her little blonde friend, but she's too stubborn to see the truth."

As soon as it dawned on him who Aphrodite meant by 'her little blonde friend' he groaned and shut his eyes against the disturbing image. The idea that any of his offspring could have such…annoying taste was nothing short of horrifying. Cupid had fallen head over heels for Strife, true, but Strife was house of War and Ares couldn't fault his son for being drawn to that kind of darkness. So his nephew was a little crazy, that was nothing compared to the never-ending babble that came out of that insipid bard's mouth. He shook his head and shifted his focus back to the original purpose of his presence in Aphrodite's halls, namely finding out where exactly his dark nephew had wandered off to this time.

He opened his mouth to ask if Strife had disappeared with Cupid again when the two young gods appeared in front of him. "Hey, Unc," Strife said, ignoring the glare Ares directed at him. "I was just gonna go looking for ya. Maybe you can help us out, we're coming up empty."

"Help you with what?" Ares demanded, doing his best to disguise his curiosity under a mask of indignation. He'd never admit it but he always found Love's day-to-day work fascinating; the idea of uniting people that truly belonged together appealed to him for sentimental reasons that he didn't like to think too hard about. War and destruction was rewarding in its own right, and he was well aware of how important his role in the Pantheon was. Still, he couldn't quite blame Strife for tagging along with Cupid when he had the chance. Love and Mischief went hand in hand, ironically enough. "By all means, enlighten me as to what's so fascinating that you've been shirking your duties again."

Strife just grinned maniacally, ignoring the attempt at a threat. He was practically bouncing on his heels with pent-up energy, and Ares knew he wasn't going to get a reaction out of his nephew when he was in one of his moods. "Ya got that old temple near Araxova, the one hardly anybody ever uses anymore. Ya ever have a foundling working for any of your priests there? A kid named Timo. We've been looking everywhere for him but no luck."

For a moment the universe stood still, and Ares was positive he was the only living being left in existence. He could still see the scene in front of him, three pairs of eyes staring expectantly at him as they waited for an answer. He couldn't hear anything but the sound of a fifteen-year-old fear pounding against his ears, however, and he knew his expression must be thunderous if his sister's reaction was any indication. That name, though…and the temple…there could only be one reason…and Aphrodite had always been so fond of him, even though she didn’t know why. She had no idea that her own brother had manipulated her into looking out for him in the hope that he'd move on and find a little happiness as an adult. It was the only thing he could give Joxer, so he'd done what he could. Only it didn't work, obviously, because now his whole family was betraying him without even realizing it.

"Ares?" The hand on his arm was soft and feminine, familiar in a comforting way and he blinked and looked down at his sister. "Ares, what is it?"

"It's not Strife's fault. I asked him to help me," Cupid interjected, stepping in front of his cousin in a protective stance that under normal circumstances would have forced Ares to swallow a proud smile.

"Why are you looking for him?" he asked, shaking off his sister's hand as gently as possible and taking a few steps toward his son.

Cupid blinked and glanced over at his mother, scowling when she just shrugged helplessly. Finally he turned back to his father and braced himself for whatever War decided to throw at him. "You know how Mom likes to look out for Joxer. You know, that guy that's always following Xena around?" He waited while Ares nodded his understanding, then took a deep breath and continued. "Yeah. So he asked Mom to help him out, said this kid Timo was a friend of his. His first love. He just wanted to make sure he was happy or whatever, that he'd gotten on with his life, I guess."

"Yeah, Unc, me and Cupe were just looking for him as a favor for Aunt 'Dite," Strife added, daring to peer out from around his cousin. "But we can't find a trace of the kid anywhere. Figured since ya got a temple right there maybe you or one of yer priests would know something. We weren't gonna do anything to him, I swear."

Ares shook his head, letting his dark hair fall over his forehead to shield the pain he was sure he couldn't keep out of his eyes. He didn't fall apart like this, not even in front of the few beings in creation that knew him well enough to see past the public image he presented. He wasn't going to react to the fact that Joxer was asking after a ghost after all these years, not even if it was his own fault for allowing Aphrodite to take notice of the sweet, gentle man Joxer had grown into. Once he'd swallowed his emotion he cleared his throat and looked up again, fixing his gaze directly on his son. "He's dead."

It wasn't a lie; not really, anyway. The boy that Joxer had fallen in love with was a ghost, in a sense. He was long gone, at any rate, and that was all they needed to know. The mere thought of the pain it would cause Joxer to hear that threatened to drain him of all his strength, but he managed to hold his ground somehow as he waited for them to challenge him.

"Dead? When? How?" Strife asked. Ever the pragmatic one, Ares reminded himself ruefully, his mouth twisting into a menacing smile at the thought. His nephew might be a little mad and a lot over-enthusiastic when it came to certain things, but he was all business when it came to the details of his job. He liked to know the how and why of things, whereas Cupid and Aphrodite were more concerned with the end result.

"Oh, my poor Joxie," his sister murmured from a few feet away, and Ares forced himself not to turn and see the pained expression she was no doubt wearing. He couldn't afford to look at her, not if he wanted to get through this without giving himself away.

"It's hardly worth shedding tears over an orphaned waif," Ares growled, his tone brooking no argument from his family. "The boy used to hang about my temple, doing odd jobs for the old priest there in exchange for the occasional meal. I never took much notice of him, only long enough to give my priest permission to feed the brat. He was robbed and murdered before his eighteenth birthday. My priest sent him on an errand to a neighboring village and some thieves stopped him before he got to town. I made sure they understood the folly of robbing from one of War's servants," he added as an afterthought. It wasn't a bad story considering he'd come up with it off the top of his head, and from the somber hush that had fallen over the room he could tell his family had bought it. A rough laugh escaped his throat as he glanced around at them, his heart breaking all over again at their expressions. "Why in Hades does any of you care about the miserable little wretch?"

"How am I going to tell Joxie?" Aphrodite whispered, ignoring Ares' last words as she turned a mournful gaze to her son and nephew. "This is going to break his little heart."

"Why should he care? Didn't you say he hadn't seen the boy since he was a child?"

Aphrodite sighed dramatically and fixed her brother with a stern glare. "Honestly, Ares, that's cold even for you. If you knew Joxer the way I do you'd understand. He's sensitive, and he only wanted to know that his little friend was happy. I can't tell him that the boy was brutally murdered, it would kill him."

Ares rolled his eyes at her penchant for drama, schooling his features into an impatient scowl. "Seems like a lot of wasted emotion over a mortal," he muttered. With one final glare at his son and nephew, he added something about spending his time doing something useful like instigating war and flashed out of the room. He was too busy focusing on not giving himself away to notice the guarded, pensive look in his normally jovial nephew's eyes.

~

Hours later, covered in blood and bits of gore, Ares flashed back into his private chambers and let out a heavy sigh. Not even the stench of death or the rush of hand to hand combat had been able to chase the nagging worry out of his system. Joxer was asking about him – no, Joxer was asking after a ghost, someone who didn't exist anymore – and even though Ares had hoped that this day would never come he couldn't deny the small thrill that came along with the knowledge that Joxer hadn't forgotten.

He'd known when it started that it would end one day, and he'd known that it would necessarily end more or less exactly the way it had. So it shouldn't bother him; shouldn't keep him awake at night wondering and drive him to antagonize his daughter just so he could catch a glimpse of that gentle smile. He was War, by the gods, and he should be able to forget a little dalliance with a mortal and move on to his next conquest. The trouble was that it was a six-year dalliance, and the first four years of it had been spent watching a child struggling to grow into a remarkable, insightful young man in the face of the most crippling odds. Somehow a whim that struck him on a particularly dull day had turned into a twenty-one year obsession, and no matter how many battles he immersed himself in it would never be enough to chase away the memory of that sweet smile or the heart that was handed over to him without hesitation.

If he outlived the whole of existence Ares knew he'd never have a dearer memory than the whisper of a much-loved voice saying five words that sealed their fates forever: *Of course. I love you.* Just like that Joxer had handed over his heart, and seventeen years later Ares still held it in hands that could so easily crush it with the truth.

He knew he could do something about it. He could go to Joxer, tell him the truth, and claim the man for his own whether Joxer liked it or not. As a god he had the right, and woe to any mortal that had the audacity to refuse him. He was War, he could do what he liked and things like consequences meant nothing to him. So he could have Joxer again any time he wanted, all he had to do was reach out and…take.

As loathe as he was to admit it even to himself, though, he couldn't do it. He couldn't just take without asking, not when he'd been given such a tremendous gift of trust from someone he loved. He still loved Joxer, as much as he'd tried to convince himself that he was long past such a useless sentiment. It was still there, eating away at the core of what made him not just War, the invincible, terrifying god of destruction, but Ares. So few people knew the real Ares, the one that scrutinized over every battle plan to make sure he was destroying only where it would advance civilization. Even those closest to him rarely caught a glimpse of the Ares that was the devoted servant of the people of Greece, even as they worshipped him as their protector. Mortals didn't seem to understand that the gods needed them as much as they needed the gods, but that was just as well.

So Ares had had this one thing that was all his own – not War, not Ares, son of Zeus and heir to the Pantheon, but Ares, the man within the god – and he'd held onto it for as long as he could. He'd never told anyone about his devotion to Joxer, no matter how tempting it had been on the nights when he'd had just a little too much to drink and he found himself steeped in the memories. He'd go out and fuck some nameless, faceless mortal, or he'd go start a skirmish somewhere where trouble was already brewing and come home exhausted and covered in blood. Usually that was enough to chase away the temptation to confess his private pain to someone he knew he could trust, but this time not even hours of carnage had done the trick.

All because of an innocent, selfless prayer that escaped Joxer's lips and perked his sister's interest. And Ares only had himself to blame, because if he hadn't nudged Joxer into Aphrodite's normally fickle heart none of this would be happening. He couldn't bring himself to regret trying to bring Joxer a little bit of happiness, though. That was all he'd been doing when he attracted Love's attention with the sweet, open heart of the man he would always love. It was no different than sending Joxer to Xena so she'd look after him, only because if someone didn't watch out for him Joxer would have gotten himself killed long ago.

As soon as he'd run away from home he'd gone right back to the fantasy of being one of Ares' warriors, and sometimes as he watched from the privacy of the Hall of War Ares was sure that Joxer was trying to get himself killed. He was just a little *too* careless, just a touch too clumsy for Ares to believe that it was completely unintentional. Besides, Ares knew Joxer so intimately that he was well acquainted with the quiet grace the other man was capable of, so his hapless and often life-threatening habit of rushing in where gods themselves feared to tread was alarming at best.

The fact that Xena was a former warlord as well as his daughter gave Ares a perfect excuse to drop in on Joxer whenever he couldn't stand it anymore, and although he was careful to ignore the man as much as possible it made him feel better just to be in Joxer's company for a few moments. He always spent the next few days fighting the urge to just go to Joxer and tell him the truth, then beg him to understand why he'd done it, but he always managed to stop himself in time. It wouldn't do him any good anyway; Joxer would never forgive Ares if he knew the truth and he'd rather have Joxer think his Timo was dead than to know Ares was alive and hate him for it. He could live with his own daughter's disdain, but he knew he couldn't go on if Joxer despised him.

It had all started out so innocently that by the time he realized he might be in too deep it was too late to stop it. The whole thing happened by chance; he hardly ever bothered to visit that ill-used temple in the middle of nowhere, and he wouldn't have been there that day either if his priest hadn't called for his guidance. He held council with the old man for a few moments, and he was about to leave when he sensed someone approaching the temple. He shielded himself from view out of curiosity, wondering which of his less-than-loyal followers was bothering with an offering that day. When he saw the little boy and the way the old priest chased him away curiosity drove him out into the clearing, he wasn't sure why even then but suddenly he wanted to know why such a small child would offer his service to War.

Sensing that the presence of the actual god would terrify the poor kid beyond repair, he affected a glamour that made him appear about the same age as the boy. His intention had only been to find out what the boy was doing in the temple in the first place, but something about the bravery the kid tried to show in spite of his obvious fear touched Ares. Before he knew it they were playing in the woods behind the temple, and for the first time in ages Ares was actually able to relax and let go of all his private worries for awhile. He began keeping an eye on Joxer, appearing in the woods the next time he saw the boy outside the temple. Before long it became a habit, and as he noticed bruises or welts on Joxer's face and arms he started to piece together the truth about the boy's life.

Feeding him seemed like such a small thing, but it was so appreciated by the boy that Ares couldn't help but delight in the simple act of watching him eat. Despite the fact that the boy was so young and even smaller than his age dictated he possessed a strength of character that fascinated Ares; it was something he saw so rarely in mortals or gods that he found himself craving any opportunity to study the boy as he grew. It certainly hadn't been his intention to fall in love, and even on that fateful day when Joxer kissed him clumsily Ares wasn't sure if he should encourage those kinds of feelings. Faced with the prospect of losing the trust he'd come to crave, though, it had seemed like the only alternative. As far as Joxer was concerned they were learning together, just two boys who somehow found each other in world full of unkindness, full of strangers that would hurt them if given half a chance.

He knew Joxer's own family hurt him worse than any stranger could, and he wanted to give the boy a place where he could feel safe and even loved. Especially loved, because there was no denying that Ares had loved him for as long as he'd known him. He'd loved the boy that somehow found a way to forget the misery of his life long enough to find joy with his only friend, then later he'd loved the guileless young man that offered himself so completely to the one person in the world he could trust.

Ares didn't deserve that trust. He knew even then that he didn't deserve it, even though he'd tried lying to himself and telling himself that he was just doing what he could to give Joxer a little joy. In the end his love had turned out to be selfish after all, because it wasn’t enough to keep Joxer safe. It wasn't enough to protect him from his father, to keep him safe from the evils of the world. In the end Joxer had left him just like Ares always knew he'd have to, but he'd left with the memory of being loved completely by someone who lived and breathed only for him.

And it was true, because Timo was born the day he first smiled at the pale, shivering boy and he died the day Joxer walked away. Ares kept watch over him as he made his way in the world, even spoke to him from time to time disguised as this person or that person. He made sure that Joxer never got too close, though; that he never looked too closely at dark eyes that held endless secrets and a love so overwhelming that sometimes the god of War himself found it hard to breathe. He hadn't been able to protect Joxer from everything, but he'd kept him alive in spite of Joxer's apparent efforts otherwise. He'd steered him toward Xena and gifted him with the protection of Aphrodite herself, hoping that surrounding Joxer with the people he trusted most in the world would bring him a little happiness.

He'd braced himself for the day Joxer would fall in love again; it was inevitable, after all, and when he began making the first awkward overtures toward Gabrielle Ares thought the day had finally come. It didn't take long for Joxer to give up on that half-hearted venture, though, and now Ares' worst fear and dearest wish had been realized. Joxer had asked Aphrodite to find him, and even though he knew it could never be a part of Ares couldn't help hoping that somehow, some way Joxer would find his way back to him again. He'd said in the note that he knew he'd see Timo again someday, but did it really count when Joxer didn't know it was him? A weary sigh escaped his throat as he flashed away the blood still clinging to his clothes and settled heavily in his chair, staring at the drawer where he kept a yellowed parchment full of promises made fifteen years ago by a boy that loved him more than Ares had ever deserved.

He'd promised that he'd be okay, and Ares had made sure of it. He'd promised to love Ares, and that he'd done with a force that still took Ares' breath away. And he'd promised that they'd see each other again…well, Ares had made that come true as well, even if Joxer could never know. And he couldn't ever know, because if he did it would destroy the only thing that had ever given Joxer a moment of joy. If he knew who his Timo really was it would destroy all those memories, and no matter how much Ares wished things were different he knew he couldn't take that away from Joxer. He couldn't rob him of the memories Ares had stolen from a child, even if it meant breaking his heart one more time by letting him believe that his first love was lost forever.

end