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Part 4 of Devotion
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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-05
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4,518
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Desperate Measures

Summary:

Fandom: X:WP
Paring: Ares/Joxer (also mention of Cupid/Strife, Xena/Gabrielle)
Rating: PG13
Status: new
Archive: sure, just let me know
Series/Sequel: Part 4 of however many Joxer demands. This part follows No Such Thing as the Real World. Other parts can be found on my web site.
Disclaimers: I do get paid to write this, but only by my job and they don't know what they're paying me to write. So that doesn't really count.
Notes: Unbeta'd. Although I do my own betaing, so I guess I should say 'not proofread'. Mea culpa.
Summary: Joxer seeks revenge and a rash decision by Ares helps Aphrodite start to put the pieces together. I know that's a lame summary. Summaries are hard for this series, go figure.
Warnings: nope
Submitted through http://lists.squidge.org/wws/info/makebelieve

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Joxer’s sense of self-preservation had never been very strong, but from the moment he left Aphrodite’s temple he wasn’t thinking about his own survival at all. He didn’t care that confronting his father meant almost certain death – or worse – either at the hands of his father himself, or one of the questionable characters that was always around in his youth. It didn’t even cross his mind that anything could have changed in the fifteen years he’d been away, as far as he was concerned his father could never be more than the miserable bastard that had threatened to kill him and the only person in the world that cared about him.

He’d never had a doubt that his father would follow through on his threats if Joxer ever saw Timo again, but he’d foolishly assumed that if he left his father would leave Timo alone. Trusting his father was the dumbest mistake he’d ever made, and he’d as good as killed Timo with his own hands. That was the thought he couldn’t shake as he made his way back along the road he’d just traveled with Xena and Gabrielle. Every time he tried to blame his father, to hate him for going back on his word, there was a voice in the back of his head telling him he should have known better. If he wasn’t such a coward he wouldn’t have run, or at least he would have warned Timo before he left.

Ever since Aphrodite told him that Timo had been murdered he couldn’t stop picturing it, a dozen different scenarios forming in his mind about the last few minutes of his life. Maybe part of him was hoping that eventually he’d come up with a scenario that ended differently, with Timo surviving against impossible odds and disappearing somewhere safe, somewhere that even Aphrodite couldn’t find him. He knew it wasn’t true, but just for a few seconds he could almost believe it.

None of it made any sense, not the fact that his father had gone back on his word or the fact that Timo was serving in Ares’ temple when he was murdered. Not that his father had really promised not to kill Timo if Joxer never saw him again, but Joxer had assumed that as long as he disappeared they’d both be safe. He never would have guessed that even his father could be that sadistic, but part of the reason he hadn’t tried to find Timo earlier was that part of him was afraid of what he’d find if he started looking.

He thought once he knew the truth that he’d feel at peace somehow, but now that he knew he just kept coming up with more questions. Like what Timo was doing serving Ares when he’d never even set foot in the temple while he and Joxer were together. If he had some allegiance to Ares he’d kept it a secret from Joxer, which made even less sense than Joxer’s father killing Timo after Joxer ran away. And how long had he waited? He wished he’d thought to ask Aphrodite while he had the chance, but he was too shocked at the news that Timo was gone to remember the details. A night alone in the forest had given him plenty of time to think, and now he had more questions that ever.

The longer he was alone with his thoughts the more confused he got, and the more determined he was to get answers out of his father one way or the other. If nothing else at least the old man would be able to tell Joxer when he’d killed Timo, why he’d done it and what his last few moments of life had been like. He found himself praying fervently to no one in particular that Timo’s last few moments on Earth had been relatively painless, that his father or whoever he’d sent to kill Timo hadn’t tortured him first. He could only imagine what Jett did to Timo if he was the one that took his life, back before death became his profession and he learned to kill efficiently and with an eye for discretion.

Or his father might have told all his disgusting friends about the two of them, told them to keep an eye out even for a boy fitting Timo’s description. There was no telling what kind of torture they would have put him through before they finally killed him, and every time the thought crossed Joxer’s mind his stomach rolled and he had to stop and sit down until he could breathe again.

It had taken him almost two days to make the journey from Aphrodite’s temple back to the village where he grew up, but as he reached the outskirts a sense of dread crept over him and sent a chill down his spine. He’d sworn when he left that he would never set eyes on this place again, and there was only one reason that he would go back on his promise to himself. He’d never been a big believer in revenge, but from the moment Aphrodite had said the word ‘killed’ revenge had been the only thing on his mind. It was the only thing keeping him moving even now, and he couldn’t have stopped himself from seeking out his father even if he wanted to. And he wanted to; part of him wanted to turn around and run as far away as he had when he was sixteen, but a voice in the back of his head called him a coward every time the urge struck him. The voice sounded too much like his father for him to ignore, and it spurred him forward through the tiny, run-down village.

He barely registered the bleakness of his surroundings, ignoring the sense of familiarity even after fifteen years of avoiding this very place. As he got closer to the tiny, cramped house where he’d spent the first miserably sixteen years of his life his footsteps slowed, and by the time he reached the small dirt yard his heart was beating so hard in his chest that he thought it would explode before he ever laid eyes on his father. It was that moment that the old man chose to round the corner of the house, his hair gray but still as thick as Joxer remembered. His face was even more weathered than when Joxer was young, and he walked with a stoop that made him look far less menacing than the imposing figure he’d been when Joxer was still a little boy.

It took a few moments for him to realize that someone was standing at the end of his yard, and when he looked up he had to shield his eyes from the sun. "What business do you have here?"

Maybe he should have expected it, or maybe it was just the sound of the voice that had filled his nightmares for so many years. It wasn’t so surprising that his own father didn’t recognize him; it hadn’t taken Jace long to leave home without looking back after Joxer ran away, and Jett wasn’t that far behind. As far as he knew neither of his brothers felt any obligation to their parents, so he couldn’t expect his father to know him on sight.

"Are you dumb? We don’t feed beggars or foreigners here. Now move on before I give you a reason to," the old man snapped, drawing himself up to his full height. For a moment Joxer recognized the strong, bitter bully that had promised to kill him more times than he could count as a kid, and he swallowed the rush of fear and took a step forward.

"It’s Joxer. I’m Joxer. Your son."

It felt strange to have to introduce himself to a man he’d spent so many years in fear of, and stranger still when his father’s expression shifted from annoyed to confused. A moment later recognition dawned on him and his scowl returned, darker than before and mocking. "It figures the cowardly one would be the one to show up after all these years. I took you for dead, boy. It’s a wonder you made it a day by yourself, you always were weak."

"I grew up," Joxer answered, amazed at how calm he sounded. The anger was still boiling just under his skin, but as soon as he laid eyes on his father again he felt almost like he’d stepped outside himself. He didn’t feel the sting intended by the insult, all he felt as he stared back at the older man was a gnawing emptiness.

The harsh laugh that escaped his father’s throat reminded him of why he’d come there in the first place, and he curled his fists at his sides as the old man took a few steps toward him. "I should have killed you when I had the chance and saved you the trouble."

His father smiled then, his lips twisting into a malicious imitation of amusement. As soon as Joxer realized that that was probably the last thing Timo saw before he died his hand was on his sword, and before he knew what he was doing he moved forward. "You should have killed me when I was too weak to fight back," Joxer said, the mocking laughter ringing in his ears only making him more determined to finish what he'd started, "because now I'm going to kill you."

"Careful, boy," his father warned, reaching for his own weapon as Joxer advanced on him. Before he unsheathed his sword Joxer rushed forward, backing him against the side of the house and pressing the blunt edge of his sword against his father's neck.

"You killed him," Joxer hissed, his jaw clenched and his arms shaking with the rage pumping through his veins. "You didn't have to. I left, you could have just forgotten all about me. You didn't have to kill him."

His father didn't answer, but he cast a quick glance over Joxer's shoulder. He smiled grimly at the look of panic in the older man's eyes, tightening his grip and pressing the blade a little closer to his skin. "No one can save you, Father. If you'd just let him live…" He trailed off when his voice broke, swallowing the rush of emotion and shoving his father back against the wall.

Adrenaline rushed through his veins, blood pounding so loud against his ears that he didn't have a prayer of hearing someone come up behind him. All he could see was Timo's face, the smile lighting up dark eyes the last time he said 'I love you'. Hot tears stung his eyes and the image blurred, and in that moment a pair of thick hands closed around his neck. He dropped his sword automatically as he struggled against his attacker, but his father was already moving away from the house and the old man's harsh laughter was the last thing he heard before everything went black.

~

Cupid flashed into Aphrodite’s temple, followed almost immediately by Strife. They took a second to look around, finally locating the goddess of Love sitting at her desk. "Hey, Mom," Cupid said. "It’s the weirdest thing, we just came from Dad’s temple in Araxova…"

"Did you see Joxie?" she asked, her eyes wide as she finally looked up at them. "Is he okay?"

"What? No, we didn’t see Joxer," Cupid answered, his forehead furrowing as he tried to figure out what his mother was talking about. "Why would Joxer be there? I thought he was still with Xena."

She let out a frustrated sigh and sank a little further into her chair, twirling a golden curl nervously around her finger. "He’s supposed to be. When he left my temple he said he was going to find Xena, but when I looked in on him to see if he was okay he was alone. And he was headed back in the direction he’d come from. I thought maybe he went back to the temple, maybe to pay his respects or something. Mortals are big on that sort of thing."

"Wait, ya mean he already knows what Unc said? ‘Cause me an’ Cupe went to see Unc’s priest, and there’s somethin’ strange goin’ on," Strife said, resisting the urge to rub his hands together. There was definitely something off about Ares’ story, the details just didn’t add up. This kind of thing was right up Strife’s alley, and it wasn’t very often he got the opportunity to stir up a little mischief in War’s life. "Ya know there’s no record of this Timo evah workin’ for Unc?"

"Well Ares said he was an orphan, right? So maybe that old priest just never bothered to make a record of it."

"Yeah, but Unc knew," Strife said. "That means there should have been some kind of official record. At least there shoulda been a record of the murder, right? Nobody’s evah even heard of the guy. We asked around."

Aphrodite frowned and dropped the curl she’d been twirling, sitting up a little straighter in her chair as she stared at the two younger gods. "You know, Ares was acting a little strange the other day. I was so worried about Joxie that I forgot all about it."

"Strange how?" Cupid asked. "It’s not like Dad cares about Joxer. I’m surprised he even knows who he is."

"I’ve been getting some weird vibes from him lately, for one thing. I swear the other day it almost felt like he was in love. But as far as I know he’s not even seeing anybody. Strife, he’s not trying to hide an affair, is he? If anybody knew about it you would, you see him most."

"Unc in love? Yeah, right." Strife shook his head and let out an amused laugh. "Come ta think of it, though, he has been actin’ sorta weird."

"Tell me about it. You should have seen how bent out of shape he got when I mentioned bringing Joxie up here for a little while. I just wanted to make sure he took the news about his friend okay, but you'd think I suggested making him immortal or something. Ares totally freaked."

"How did he take it?" Cupid asked, trying to steer his mother and cousin back to the main reason for their conversation. He hadn't seen Ares acting any differently than usual, and secretly he wasn't so sure Ares was wrong about bringing Joxer up to Olympus. He knew from personal experience what could happen when mortals were given free rein on Olympus; look at what happened with Psyche. A shudder rolled through him at the thought of his scary ex-wife, and he pushed the thought away and inched a little closer to Strife. "I mean he's not here, so it couldn't have been that bad, right?"

"I guess he's okay," she answered, shrugging as she recalled Joxer walking out of her temple. "I mean he seemed like he was in a hurry to get back to Xena, I thought maybe he just didn't want to cry in front of me or something. Although as soon as I told him he got this look on his face, so I took a teensy peek into his thoughts. That was weird."

"Joxer an' weird kinda go togetha," Strife interjected, smirking when both love gods turned to frown at him.

"This was different," Aphrodite said. "He wasn't thinking about the dead kid, he was thinking about his father. 'If I ever catch you again you'll regret it. I'll kill you both', that's what he was thinking. Over and over, and I got the feeling it was something his father said to him."

"Geez, and I complain about Dad," Cupid muttered under his breath. As soon as he said it the energy in the room shifted, and a moment later Ares was standing in front of them. Cupid's eyes widened and he stepped a little behind Strife, crossing his arms over his chest defensively.

Ares looked around at the three of them, a characteristic scowl pasted firmly on his face. " I assumed after our discussion that this business with that dead orphan was finished," he growled, raising an eyebrow at Aphrodite before he turned to glare at Strife. "Imagine my surprise when I received word from one of my priests that Love and Mischief had been to him, asking questions about something that happened fifteen years ago."

Aphrodite rolled her eyes and stood up, letting out an indignant huff. "That 'dead orphan' happens to be very important to Joxie. Well he was. Well he still is, it's just that he's dead now. But still…"

"Enough," Ares ground out, turning back to his sister with a thunderous expression. "You told the mortal what he wanted to know, your business with my priests is done. Now let it be."

"Geez, bro, lighten up," Aphrodite said, drawing herself up to her full height and tilting her chin back to meet Ares' glare with a defiant expression. "That's what we were just talking about. I told Joxie his little friend was murdered, only now I think maybe it was a bad idea to leave him alone."

"He's got Xena to look after him, he'll be fine," Ares answered dismissively.

"Jox ditched Xena, Unc," Strife corrected him. "Coupla days ago, right after Aunt 'Dite broke the news. He's headed back toward your temple now."

"He's gone back…to Araxova?" Ares asked, his voice so low that for a second Strife wondered if he was imagining the hint of panic in his uncle's tone. He sought out Ares' eyes to see if he could tell what his uncle was thinking, but his expression was carefully neutral.

Strife shrugged and glanced at Aphrodite, but she looked as confused as he was. The only thing he was sure of now was that Ares knew something he wasn't telling, and Strife was dying to find out what it was. "Yeah, don't know why though. Aunt 'Dite said he was thinkin' somethin' 'bout his dad."

For a moment Ares' eyes clouded, then he took three long strides forward and lifted Aphrodite off the temple floor by her arms. "He went back to his father's house, and you just let him go?"

"Hey, let go, you big jerk," she snapped, her feet kicking uselessly in midair as she struggled against him. "What do you care? You don't even like Joxie."

"Do you know what you've done?" he hissed, his grip tightening painfully for a second before he let out a growl and disappeared. Aphrodite yelped as she felt herself falling, hitting the floor with a graceless thud. She glanced up at her son and nephew, but all that was left of them was a shimmer of sparkles as they flashed out of the temple.

~

The first thing Ares saw when he appeared in the dirt yard was Joxer's eyes rolling back in his head as a thick, dirty farmhand squeezed his neck. Before he even thought about the consequences Ares acted, reaching out to grab the farmhand by the scruff of his neck and yanking him backwards. He barely registered Joxer crumpling to the ground in a lifeless heap as he threw the other man backwards, listening to the satisfying crunch of bones breaking as he hit the ground.

Once the farmhand was out of the way Ares turned toward the older man that he could only assume was Joxer's father, stalking forward menacingly. "My L-lord," the man stammered, his eyes wide as he glanced from his farmhand to Ares. "This vagrant was going to kill me…"

"This vagrant is your son, and you're not worthy to die by his hand. I should have killed you myself years ago."

"Dad?"

Ares glanced over his shoulder at the sound of Cupid's voice, some of the blind fury subsiding as he realized they'd followed him. This wasn't the way this was supposed to go; he'd only told Aphrodite that Timo died so she'd quit poking around in the past. She wasn't supposed to make Joxer's heartbreak into a special project, but he should have known that she would. She'd always been fond of him, a fact that had made Ares irrationally jealous on more than one occasion. He looked down at Joxer, realizing for the first time that his breathing was shallow and strained. Panic filled him again and he forgot about teaching Joxer's father a lesson, stooping down to pick up the too-slender body as gingerly as possible before he straightened up to face his son and nephew.

"Strife, deal with this…creature," Ares said, casting a disdainful glare over his shoulder at Joxer's father. "Assume that he's been disloyal to the house of War and act accordingly."

Strife grinned menacingly as Ares and Joxer dematerialized in front of him, leaving nothing between him and the old man but a few feet of ground. "Cupe, ya might wanna…you know," Strife said, casting a quick glance at his lover. "This could get a little messy."

"Are you kidding? I love watching you work," Cupid said, grinning when Strife raised his eyebrows in surprise. "What? Okay, the blood and gore part I'm not that crazy about, but watching you enjoy yourself like that is a total turn-on."

"Yeah? Well in that case let's get this over with quick," Strife said, leaning forward for a hard kiss before he turned back to Joxer's father. When he pulled away from Cupid again the older man was halfway to the back of the house, creeping along the wall in an effort to make a quiet getaway. "Aww, ain't that cute, Cupe? He's tryin' to escape."

Cupid chuckled softly as he watched Strife disappear and then rematerialize in front of the old man. "Now that's no way to treat yer guests," Strife drawled as he lifted the old man off the ground and held him in midair. "I got a few questions I been dyin' ta ask…"

~

Ares laid Joxer gently onto the soft bed, frowning as Joxer whimpered in his sleep and tried to move unconsciously closer to him. It was tempting to stretch out next to him and pull Joxer into his arms, hold him tight until he woke up and demanded to know what Ares thought he was doing. Not that Joxer would ever demand anything of War, Ares reminded himself with a wry smile. He might try to stammer some kind of request for an explanation, but he probably wouldn't get much further than 'Where am I?'

The thought of silencing Joxer's questions with a kiss was too tempting, though, and he knew if he stayed that that was exactly what would happen. There was no way he could risk being so close to Joxer, not after Cupid and Strife had already seen what he did to that farmhand. He felt a familiar surge of rage as he remembered that man laying his hands on Joxer, and he shook himself and stood up abruptly. Nothing had changed, as far as Joxer and everyone else knew Timo was still dead and Ares had nothing to do with it. That was the way it had to stay, no matter what it did to him to know that he was the reason Joxer was suffering.

He let out a soft sigh and leaned over the sleeping figure again, checking to make sure that his breathing was slowly returning to normal. He pushed aside the collar of Joxer's tunic and fingered the marks the farmhand had left on his neck, watching them disappear as he ran his fingers over the soft skin. When Joxer was completely healed he pushed a lock of dark hair off the mortal's forehead and leaned down, brushing his lips across Joxer's skin. As soon as he realized what he'd done he straightened up again, taking a step backwards as he watched Joxer sigh in his sleep and turn over.

It was too dangerous, there were too many temptations just from being in the same room with him. This was the reason Ares had kept his distance for so long, pretended not to even know who Joxer was. He'd pretended so well, in fact, that the Goddess of Love had never even suspected. She might suspect something now, but he'd find a way to make his family forget the small lapse in judgment he'd made when he went after Joxer. If nothing else he'd make them believe that he'd done it for Xena's sake, it would be difficult but they'd known him to be sentimental about his daughter once or twice in the past.

That was the way it had to be, because if they knew the truth about Timo there was no way his secret would stay a secret for long. Even if they didn't mean for it to get out it would, these things had a way of spinning out of control quickly. Joxer was safe now and his father would pay for all the pain he'd inflicted, and that was all that mattered. He took a deep breath and backed toward the door, letting himself out of the room and turning in the direction of his sister's throne room.

When he found Aphrodite she was pacing the length of the room, worrying one of her curls between her fingers as she bit the nails on her free hand. "Your manicure, 'Dite," he said softly, smiling in spite of himself when she stopped pacing and looked down at her nails.

"Damn," she muttered under her breath, letting go of her hair to wave her other hand over the nails she'd chewed into nothing. When her manicure was once again perfect she crossed her arms over her chest and turned stormy eyes on him. "And just what exactly was that all about? One minute you're about to tear my arms off and then you just drop me and disappear. I mean come on, bro, that was high drama, even for you. If I didn't know better…"

Ares held up a hand to silence her, raising an eyebrow when she stopped speaking abruptly and snapped her jaw shut. "Joxer's here," he said quietly, looking away for a moment and clearing his throat before he continued. "He went after his father, I assume to kill the old man. I have Strife taking care of that, but Joxer's in no shape to be alone. He'll need rest and an explanation. You can take care of him this time, I assume?"

"Wait a second. You brought him here? What happened to 'Mortals die all the time, 'Dite'?"

Ares winced, but he recovered quickly and schooled his features into a scowl that told her he was in no mood to be second-guessed. "I dealt with a disloyal follower of War, the mortal in your chambers is your business." A second later he was gone, leaving his sister to stare open-mouthed at the spot where he'd been standing and wonder what kind of explanation she could give Joxer when she didn't even know what was going on.

 

end

Notes:

This orphaned work was originally on Pejas WWOMB posted by author Caroline Crane.
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