A/N So this one makes a bingo! I'm definitely pleased to have finished it. Last year I crept in under the wire on the last day of posting so to finish a bingo this early this time around is a definite improvement.

The story has been written to fill the 'Arena' prompt on my card for round 7 of hurt/comfort bingo. It's a prompt that almost has Atlantis written all over it and yet it's the one I struggled most with when it came to actually writing a story. The story is sort of an episode tag to 1.07 The Rules of Engagement. I hope you enjoy it.

It was cool in the competitor's area beneath the arena. Jason tuned out the world around him, trying to focus on the fight to come. Pythagoras' words from last night still rang in his ears no matter how hard he tried to forget them. Should he deliberately lose? He wasn't sure he could bring himself to do that no matter what the risk to himself. But was the mathematician right? Would his friends suffer the consequences too if he were to beat Heptarian? Was he risking their lives as well as his own?

He tried to loosen himself up, rolling his shoulders and trying to ignore the flare from his right one as he did. God, he was hurting so much right now. He would try to keep that to himself though; did not want to worry his friends any more than they already were. He had fought through the pain ever since Hercules had reset his shoulder after the first round and he would fight through it now, but every blow he had suffered, every time he had been thrown to the floor or across the sand of the arena, was beginning to take a toll. The bruising around his shoulder and collarbone was already beginning to make itself evident but Jason suspected that by the time it had all come out in the next few days he was likely to be black and blue pretty much all over.

"Don't let him get too close too early on."

Jason jumped as Hercules' rumbling voice came from in front of him. He had not registered the burly wrestler's approach.

"Keep your distance and don't let him get you on the ground," Hercules went on, coming forwards and lightly resting his hands on top of his younger friend's shoulders, broad face serious. "Heptarian's never been beaten but that doesn't mean he can't be. Watch for an opening and try to exploit his weaknesses. When you see one, in… but you know that already."

He worked his thumbs in small circles across Jason's shoulders, trying to ease out any knots he found in the taut muscles, never stopping with his constant litany of motivation and advice.

Jason focussed on that rather than on how he was feeling or on Pythagoras' remembered words. He needed to concentrate to have any chance of winning (to have any chance of surviving – he was in no doubt that Heptarian would kill him if he got the chance after all). Hercules' support was comforting and his gently probing fingers, trying to massage away any aches and pains, told their own story of his affection. The young hero exhaled hard and looked at the floor as he centred himself.

Motivational speech over, Hercules slapped Jason gently on the upper arm.

"He's ready," he stated quietly.

Jason stepped away, turning his back on his friends and rolling his shoulders a few more times in a perhaps vain attempt to loosen them up a little more. He was aware of Pythagoras and Medusa approaching.

"Jason," Pythagoras started softly.

Jason had no desire to continue the conversation from last night; did not want to fight with Pythagoras.

"I don't want to know," he said, turning back towards his friends but keeping his eyes on the floor.

"I was just going to say… good luck," Pythagoras replied earnestly.

Jason looked up at the young genius.

Pythagoras looked back at him steadily, eyes full of affection and unfailing support. Jason smiled and reached out to clasp his hand warmly, feeling the soft punch to his shoulder from Hercules – although part of him wished the big man would find another way to show his support under the circumstances; even the lightest tap was hurting a little. Once he got into the arena, adrenaline would take away any discomfort he might be feeling but for now he was left trying to hide how much he was hurting.

Medusa followed Pythagoras and swooped in for a hug. Jason returned it awkwardly. He liked Medusa, might even love her as a friend, but had no wish to upset Hercules by even hinting at the fact that there might be anything else between them. Which there wasn't. At all. He just didn't see Medusa as anything other than a friend.

Besides which, Jason wasn't entirely sure he was comfortable with being hugged like that. He'd always preferred to be the one to initiate physical contact; was decidedly uncomfortable with being touched without warning. He had grown used to it where his two friends were concerned. Both Pythagoras and Hercules were remarkably tactile men and to refuse a hug from either one of them would hurt them – something Jason was always very keen to avoid. So he had forced himself to learn to accept unexpected contact from them – wordless displays of affection – and had even begun to enjoy them. But he still didn't really like anyone outside of their group of three hugging him unexpectedly and, friend though she undoubtedly was, Medusa fell into that category.

She stepped away before it could become too awkward and Jason allowed himself a few moments of peace, surrounded by the support of the people he was closest to, knowing that the time was rapidly approaching when he would have to enter the arena once more. He exhaled sharply and looked up at the grate in the ceiling that let light into the area, breathing deeply and trying to calm and centre himself.

From somewhere up above him a drum started to pound. It was time.

All in all the evening had been pretty pleasant. Hercules was delighted by the fact that not only had Medusa completely forgiven him, but she seemed to be more than willing to start a proper relationship with him. They were sitting together on the far side of the table, the empty dishes from supper laid out before them, talking quietly together and exchanging smiles.

Jason half watched them through heavy-lidded eyes from his own seat at the table, his mind still wandering down pleasant pathways, reliving the kiss Ariadne had given him a few hours earlier, while Pythagoras puttered about in the background, fetching himself a drink of something and returning to sit down next to his dark-haired friend.

Hercules stretched.

"Well I'm off to walk Medusa home," he stated, pushing up from the table and offering his hand to help the aforesaid lady to her feet. "And then perhaps for a small libation in the tavern afterwards."

"Try not to make too much noise when you stumble home drunk," Pythagoras answered wryly.

"I'm surprised at you Pythagoras," Hercules protested. "How can you think such a thing?"

"Past experience," Pythagoras sniffed.

Hercules ignored him and came around the table, stopping in front of Jason. The young man looked up at him in surprise, eyes wide.

"You did well today," he said earnestly, dropping a hand onto Jason's shoulder. "It will be talked about for years. The crowd loved you."

Jason dropped his head, suddenly feeling awkward and bashful.

"Thank you," he muttered uncomfortably.

Hercules' face softened with an understanding smile. He gently patted his friend on the shoulder and then turned back to Medusa.

"Come my love," he said expansively. "This is no place for beauty such as yours."

Medusa laughed and rolled her eyes.

"I don't need to be flattered, Hercules," she stated. "But you are right… I do need to be getting home. Some of us have to be at work in the morning." She looked at Pythagoras and Jason. "Farewell," she added.

"Farewell." Both young men responded.

The room fell into silence after Hercules and Medusa had gone, both young men wrapped up in their own thoughts. Jason reached out without thinking to grab a cup from the table but stopped with a wince as stabbing pain flared in his shoulder. He let his arm drop back down and reached up with the other hand to rest it lightly against the point of pain, unsure whether to try to rub to ease the ache or whether that would actually make it worse.

"Will you let me see?" Pythagoras' voice was soft and concerned.

Jason jumped. Somehow he had managed to forget that his friend was there. Wordlessly he dropped his hand away from his shoulder and allowed his mathematically inclined friend to pull back the neck of his tunic and peer inside. Pythagoras pulled a face.

"It would be easier for me to examine you if you were not wearing your tunic," he ventured.

Jason grimaced, knowing that pulling the garment up over his head would be painful. He reached down and undid the laces on the back of his belt, allowing it to drop into his lap, before grasping the hem of his tunic. Before he could attempt to remove the garment, however, his hands were batted away by an apparently very determined Pythagoras.

"You are stiff and sore," Pythagoras pointed out crisply, a hint of irritation creeping into his tone. "It will be easier for both of us if you allow me to help you."

His head was bent low, stopping Jason from seeing his face, only his reddish blonde fluffy curls visible. Moving carefully, he manoeuvred the tunic up over his friend's head and slid it down off Jason's arms, trying to keep his friend from having to move too much and aggravating the injuries Pythagoras knew he had sustained.

"Pythagoras," Jason began.

"Hercules was worried that the bones in your left hand might be somewhat misaligned," Pythagoras murmured, ignoring Jason. "And although he believes that your shoulder is healing I am concerned that the nerves are overstretched. I am sure that I have a poultice that will help with the bruising and swelling but you should try not to use your arm. You need to rest it to allow your shoulder to heal properly. I will fashion a sling once I have finished examining you."

"Pythagoras," Jason tried again.

"Does this hurt?" Pythagoras asked, prodding his friend's ribcage with perhaps a little more force than he intended.

Jason drew in a sharp breath and gritted his teeth.

"Yes," he ground out.

Pythagoras nodded and probed the area carefully, ignoring the way Jason flinched at his touch.

"You are fortunate in that your ribs seem to be only bruised and not broken," he stated briskly. "They may be sore but there will be no long-term harm." He stood back up and turned away from Jason towards the shelves. "I know of several balms that may be helpful and a tonic or two that may prove beneficial."

"Pythagoras," Jason interrupted his flow once more.

The mathematician stopped still, his back still turned to his friend.

"Don't Jason," he said quietly. "Just don't."

"You were right," Jason replied softly.

"About what?"

"About all of it." Jason swallowed hard and looked at Pythagoras' rigid back. "There was no way I would ever have been allowed to get away with beating Heptarian. I should never have entered the Pankration in the first place."

"Well at least that is something we can agree on," Pythagoras responded.

"I'm sorry," Jason murmured. "I should have listened to you."

"Yes. You should," Pythagoras replied. He turned back to face his friend. "There are few people in this world who I am truly close to and you are one of them. I do not enjoy seeing you hurt."

"Trust me, I don't enjoy being hurt," Jason answered, trying to lighten the atmosphere somewhat.

"Don't try to make light of this," Pythagoras said sharply.

"I'm sorry," Jason repeated earnestly. "I really don't want us to fight. I just…" he sighed and dropped his head into his hands.

He felt rather than saw Pythagoras come back to sit next to him on the bench.

The young genius sighed.

"I know you were only doing what you thought was best," he murmured.

"I still don't really understand this place," Jason replied, his voice raw. "I'm playing a game where I don't understand the rules."

Pythagoras sighed again.

"Life and love are never easy," he answered softly.

"Ariadne thanked me," Jason said, still not taking his hands away from his face. "She kissed me and said I gave her strength… but I don't really know how."

Pythagoras scooped a little balm out of the pot he had brought back from the shelves and began to gently work it into his friend's shoulder.

"By being you," he replied. "By refusing to give up even though you really should have." He hesitated for a moment. "I slipped down to the agora to get some bread earlier… the betrothal between Heptarian and Ariadne has been broken. Everyone was talking about it."

Jason looked up at him, confusion written in his eyes.

"I don't understand," he admitted. "Why would the betrothal be broken?"

"Because Heptarian was beaten," Pythagoras answered, "and everyone knows it. The King has taken it as a sign that the Gods did not look favourably on the marriage."

"I didn't win," Jason replied.

"But you did not lose either," Pythagoras pointed out, taking some more balm from the pot and continuing to work it across his friend's shoulder blade and up the back of his neck. "You had Heptarian on the floor and could have beaten him but you took the sensible course for once and chose not to… and I for one am very glad that you did since I suspect we would not be here tonight if you had actually claimed the victory. Still, the fact that Heptarian had vast experience in the Pankration and had never been beaten and yet you came from nowhere to challenge his supremacy did not look good for him. It implied that he did not have the blessing of the Gods in this matter."

Jason looked down at the floor again.

"So what now?" he asked.

Pythagoras paused.

"Now we get on with our lives, much as we have done every day," he answered softly. "We will need to try to earn some money fairly soon. I will work on my triangles, you will dream of Ariadne and Hercules will long for pies… and wine. Pretty much what we have done on any normal day since you came to Atlantis. Beyond that, what happens is in the hands of the Fates and the Gods."

He set to work on Jason's hand as he was speaking, cracking and manipulating everything back into place properly, forcing himself to ignore the little grunts of pain Jason gave. He scooped some more of the balm from the pot and massaged it deeply into his friend's hand.

"I am nearly done," he said gently. He stood up and moved back to the shelves, coming back with several bunches of herbs and a jug of oil. He narrowed his eyes as he looked at Jason, nodded to himself and went to fetch a small amphora of wine and a pestle and mortar.

Pythagoras chopped and ground some of the herbs which he mixed with a cupful of watered down wine. The other herbs he ground up and mixed into a poultice with the oil. He came back around the table and sat down next to Jason with a soft smile.

"The herbs in the tonic should ease any pain you might be feeling and the poultice should help with the bruising," he said, handing Jason the cup.

He dipped his long fingers into the oily mixture and began to apply it to his friend's ribcage and anywhere else he saw bruising developing.

"What would I do without you?" Jason asked with a smile as he drained the cup.

"Probably get yourself into a great deal of trouble," Pythagoras answered. "There," he added, "I am all finished." He looked appraisingly at Jason. "You will need to put your tunic back on," he advised. "You will grow more stiff if you become cold."

Once Jason's tunic was back in place, the young mathematician immobilised his friend's arm in a makeshift sling.

"Thanks," Jason said softly.

"It is no trouble," Pythagoras replied.

Jason snorted.

"I think we both know that's not entirely true," he said.

Before Pythagoras could reply, Jason gave a massive yawn.

"Sorry," he said. "I'm a bit tired."

"Then perhaps it would be a good idea to go to bed," Pythagoras suggested. "You are clearly exhausted from the past few days and will heal quicker if you rest."

"Maybe you're right," Jason acknowledged, pushing himself up from the table with his good arm. "Goodnight."

Pythagoras stood up too and smiled.

"Sleep well my friend," he said, heading off towards his own room.

Jason slipped easily beneath the covers of his bed and snuggled down in gratefully. He was sore and he was tired but despite that he was happy. Ariadne had kissed him, Hercules and Medusa were back on speaking terms and possibly heading towards a proper relationship and all seemed to be forgiven between himself and Pythagoras. Everything was once again right with the world.