Part 16 - Doctor, Doctor, Give Me the News�
He really didn't want to make a habit of this.
Not fainting and surely not waking up in a different place than he'd shut his eyes. That was a good way to get in trouble and from the serious look in the gray eyes examining him, trouble wasn't that far away. A quick scramble away wasn't possible, since his head weighed about fifteen pounds and the room was just starting to slow its spin. Plus, when he tried to lever himself up, a hand gently but firmly eased him back down to the� bed. He was in bed. Well, at least that was something. They could've left him on the ground.
"Joxer, is it?" The eyes above him had a face, a young one with classically angular Grecian-statue-like features that bore a caring look that marble never wore. He nodded once, not wanting to cause any more damage to himself with a second. "OK."
"I� where�" he found himself being shushed, a hand feeling his forehead for something.
"Easy, tiger. Rest up and save your energy. You're gonna need it." A half smile curved those artistic looking lips. "I'm Aesclepius, the god of healing. From what I hear, you've had yourself a busy day, huh?" Joxer nodded. "I'm gonna guess that right before you hit the dirt, you got dizzy, queasy� that kind of thing?"
"Light-headed," Joxer kept his voice low, but had to add that. Might as well be honest with the god of healing. Not like he couldn't figure this out on his own anyway. "Like I hadn't eaten for days."
"Uh-huh. I figured." Aesclepius rolled his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "Those guys� Sometimes I wonder about them." He walked out of Joxer's field of vision and the wanna-be warrior turned his head to watch the young god retrieve a big wedge cushion from the other side of the small but well-appointed room. The healing immortal was tall, long and leggy in a pair of pristine white leather pants and a white sleeveless shirt tucked into the waistband neatly. Twined up his arm was a silvery snake that, had it not winked at him, Joxer would have mistaken for jewelry. Golden curls topped his handsome head, a silvery laurel decorating it. "OK, I�ll help you sit up a little, then we can get on with the examination."
"Examination?" Joxer tried to remember his last trip to the healer, but somehow, traveling with Xena didn�t engender that kind of care. The best he could remember was being hauled there kicking and screaming by his mother. It had to be the leeches. They always icked him out.
"Standard fare. Make sure you�re running on all four chariot wheels. Nothing invasive or unpleasant." Aesclepius set the cushion on the floor by the bed and bent, sliding his arms underneath Joxer�s body. "On three. One anda two anda three." The god lifted him as if he was made of paper, somehow maneuvering that wedge behind him to prop him up comfortably. "OK?" Joxer nodded again. Instead of going for instruments, Aesclepius held his hand over Joxer, a hair�s breadth from his skin, and slowly passed it over him. Joxer assumed there would have to be a fair amount of concentration needed to do it this way, but apparently not. "So. I hear you�ve been helping Uncle Ares lately. How�s that working out?"
"Um� OK, I guess. I don�t know how the last thing ended up, with the whole Hermes and Eris thing interrupting and me keeling over and all that, but before that, it seemed to be fine," Joxer found himself calming a little more, probably due to Aesclepius� influence.
"He�s treating you good? Not overworking you or hollering too much?"
"No. Actually, he's been pretty� nice." Aesclepius looked pretty surprised by that, giving a small 'hm' in response. "Am I� is everything OK?"
"Hmm."
"Oh gods� just give it to me straight. Am I gonna live? Is there some kind of herb or medicine I can take? I haven't contaminated Olympus, have I?"
The God of Healing grinned softly at Joxer's worry. It seemed he was just as much in the dark as most of everyone else on this. "Don't worry, Joxer. You'll make it just fine. Though, I have to say, I'm impressed you stuck it out this long without a ready supply." A wave of his hand conjured a small metal cup filled to the brim with clearish, pink tinted liquid. "Do yourself a favor and chug this as quickly as you can. All of my powers still can't fix the flavor. I'd put it in wine, but a pure dose will help you feel better quicker."
That was all Joxer needed to hear. If this stuff would fix him up, then down the hatch it went. But the healer god wasn't kidding about the taste. Something like old rutabaga and feet mixed with morning breath. He had to wince to get it all down in one swallow.
"BLEGH!"
"I told you. Ambrosia's like that." Joxer knew his mouth was moving, though he couldn't quite hear his voice coming out of it. Did he just say� "I'll let the audience outside know you're doing better. A few of them can come in and see you, but not too many. Don't want you tiring out." And Aesclepius moved to the door, an ornate affair in burnished gold, cracking it open to address the hallway outside. A hand pushed it open and bodies spilled in quickly, Ares and Strife and Cupid hurrying their way over at the head of the pack.
"Joxer. You're all-right?" A study in non-emotion, Ares' stern expression masked his worry. Seeing Joxer hit the dirt had been agony that he couldn't share.
"Still a little woozy, but I'll make it. Sorry I worried you guys." He couldn't help but grin sheepishly. "Hey, me falling on my face had to happen again sooner or later, right?"
"If you ate properly, it wouldn't be an issue," Aesclepius intoned in that scolding schoolmarm tone they'd all heard once or twice in their own lives. Cupid and Strife met eyes, giving each other nervous, warning glances. There was a cat threatening to escape the bag here.
"You kiddin' me? Jox eats like a horse. It's all that flashin' in an' out we been doin' with him. He just ain't used to it." Strife jumped in quickly, cutting his cousin off. "We gotta be more careful with him."
"Oh gods," a trembly voice snuck up on the other side of the bed, Harmonia clutching a lacy handkerchief and dabbing her wide, worried eyes. "This is my fault. I knew I shouldn't have moved him. We could've just walked over, but no, I had to be a big showoff. Oh, Jox, I'm so sorry�"
"It's not your fault, Harm," Cupid could smell the doom thick in the air. They were thisclose to getting found out and he wanted to be everywhere else right now. But leaving would only leave everyone else open for� whatever was on the way. And rest assured, it was coming. "We all forget how fragile mortals are."
"Hey!" Feeling better by the minute, Joxer knew pity when he heard it and had to protest. "I might not be the burliest guy in Greece, but I do manage to survive on my own, thank you."
"Uh, I hate to correct you guys, but�"
"We know, Ace. But the stress hasta get to 'em sooner or later. We can't play so rough." Strife tried desperately to mentally warn his cousin to shut his yap before he sunk them all, but it was in vain.
"He will be fine, won't he?" the dark, stormy gaze of the War God pinned both his nephews in place, cautioning and demanding in turn.
"Yes. He will. You just need to remember that�"
"Ace, isn't that yer mama callin' you?" Strife slapped his hand over his cousin's mouth and shoved the tanned young god away, directing him for the door. "We can take care of him ourselves, if ya ain't got nothin' else to do for 'im."
Aesclepius snorted indignantly. Wasn't this his temple? But the look his uncle was fixing him with was nothing he wanted any part of. No sense in getting whomped for whatever Strife and them were up to. He straightened himself out with a few stern tugs and glared at them. "Fine. But I've told you guys before, you make these new gods, you gotta learn how to take care of them. I can't keep fixing your fuck-ups, OK?"
"Shit." Strife could feel his heart and stomach hit his boots as the god of healers left the room. That glare of his uncle's bore into him like daggers. He put on his bravest, widest smile and hoped for the best.
Or at least, the least of the worst.
