(Available for reading on AO3 as well /with graphics/. Link on my profile!)

Title:: A Longing That Persists

Author:: Aislin

Fandom:: Atlantis (BBC) [with some added elements of Merlin (BBC)]

Pairing:: Jason/Pythagoras [with mentions of Merlin/Arthur]

Rated:: PG-13

Word count:: 6 700

Genre:: Future Fic, Drama/Angst, Unfulfilled Romance

Disclaimer:: I hereby state that I don't own anything from either of the shows – which is a damn good thing because I never want to see this happening in canon.

Warnings:: Jason-centric, slash, depression, regret, flashbacks, swearing, apocalypse in Atlantis. Not exactly a crossover, but Merlin makes a cameo appearance. Can be read without knowledge of Merlin BBC.

A/N:: Let me apologise in advance for any heart malfunction this fic might cause! Also, let's pray that TPTB never comes across this story and gets funny ideas. (Save for the Jagoras. They can absolutely get inspired by that.)

Special thanks to a-majestic-clotpole, for beta-reading and making numerous great suggestions – thank you, Tash!

Summary::

After losing the closest friends he'd ever had, the people he'd come to consider his own and the land that had become his home, Jason finds it very hard to adapt back to 21st century London.

ETA (20/10/2013): Now partly available in Chinese thanks to lengfeilee.

ETA (10/12/2013): Bellecat made a really nice cover for the story, wow!

ETA (16/02/2014): Finally had some time to self-translate the fic into Hungarian.

Links to all on my profile~ Thank you!

A Longing That Persists

.

Jason is munching on his hamburger half-heartedly, but he already regrets his decision to go and buy it. Really, if the taste hasn't improved one bit in the last six months he's been back in London, then perhaps he should stop experimenting with it.

The first time he ate junk food after five years of going completely without it, he thought it'd be a feast to his taste buds. Immediately, he was proven wrong when he had to rush to the toilet and heave after a few bites.

Living in the city where he can eat just about nearly anything one could possibly ask for, Jason longs for the poor stews, stale slices of bread and the tasteless meals he had usually shared with Pythagoras and Hercules.

As his thoughts wander near to the mental case which Jason has locked his memories of Atlantis in, his heart suddenly tightens as though someone was clutching painfully at it. For long moments, he struggles with keeping up the rhythm of his steps, to not halt and stare at the pavement as he plunges into memories he should forget about already…but he can't do that, he still can't.

"Oi! Get out of the way, man!" a brusque man shouts at him from behind.

Jason slowly comes back to full consciousness. Mumbling an apology, he steps aside, letting the gathering crowd flood through beside him on this hectic London morning, his feet carrying him to the nearest bin to throw his half-eaten hamburger out.

He has lost his appetite.

"Jason! Open your eyes! Jason!"

Opening his eyes to the bright blue sky, he is immediately cut off by a paramedic and the face of another man who looks decisively rather familiar.

A few moments later, he recognises him as the last man who'd ever saw Jason before he disappeared beneath the surface.

At least five people are shouting around him now, checking his pulse, shining a light into his eyes, massaging his chest as he coughs up water. Jason can't hear a thing over all the noise, can't focus his thoughts on mapping out where he is.

The only thing he knows is that Atlantis is gone, and that Pythagoras' wide blue eyes were the last things he'd seen of that world.

Jason never returns to see his psychologist.

It was just a waste of time to begin with, anyway. Technically, he wasn't fond of going in the first place, but with being in a collision in a submarine in the ocean, nearly drowning and then raving deliriously over "Atlantis", "the city is sinking" and "help Pythagoras and Hercules" to everyone within five feet are apparently a definite way to get an instant ticket to the best therapist in town.

According to the diagnoses, he has suffered shock and brain damage due to the long duration of time he'd spent unconscious under the water.

Jason knows that he is suffering from heart-break from having to leave the world he'd come to call his home so abruptly, not to mention the only true friends he's ever had in life.

And if the regret upon how one of them could have been something more eats his soul in every waking and dreaming hour, well, there is absolutely nothing some stupid doctor can do to mend that.

It starts with the earthquakes. With every passing day, they grow more intense. At first, Jason pays little attention to them, but when the reports come in how the level of the water is rising, he is suddenly sure that the worst is to come.

The Oracle says nothing, but closes her eyes in grief and brushes a warm yet trembling hand to Jason's face.

"I thought it was my destiny to stop this from happening!" he croaks out.

Tears roll down the woman's cheeks as she faintly shakes her head. "No one can stop this from occurring, Jason. Not when the gods have made their decision."

"How much time?" Jason asks, demands, pleads. "How much time do we have?"

Minutes later, Jason races through the city like his life depends on it. He can think of nothing else but to get his friends to safety. After that, he'll go and warn everyone at the palace. Ariadne will listen to him. She must.

"Jason, what's wrong?" Pythagoras asks worriedly as soon as he catches sight of the panting, grim-faced man. Hercules, too, frowns at their friend's appearance.

Jason swallows before mustering up the most serious tone he's ever had to use. "I have to tell you something."

Once, out of misery, Jason puts on Walt Disney's Hercules and watches it on his Mac.

When he was a boy, he adored it. He knew most of the songs by heart and sometimes tortured the tiles in the bathroom by singing loudly to them as he took a shower.

Now, however, he can barely watch it through. He snorts at the sight of the gawky young Hercules who resembles more of Pythagoras than the actual Hercules. (Frankly, fat womaniser Philoctetes is a good deal closer to the original.) Megara reminds Jason of the beautiful Ariadne; the sight of the amazing temples and enormous columns constantly sing about the wonders of his now lost home.

Why does the gods, those damn gods always have to do something? It's a good thing that Poseidon doesn't appear in this movie, or else Jason might actually break his laptop.

In lack of that, he just closes the film and shuts off the computer.

This was not a good idea.

" What do you mean you came from the future?" Hercules exclaims in disbelief.

Jason takes a deep breath to calm the hammering of his heart before looking his friend in the eye. "I'm not sure if it's the future or a completely different world, but yes, that's the truth. If you saw the city that I'm from, you wouldn't believe it... But that's not important. The only thing that matters right now is that we have many ancient stories... legends about Atlantis. We know it as The Lost City, because those legends tell how the gods have envied the wealth and knowledge of your people, and how they have been angered by the arrogance of your leaders so much that they decided to… well, Zeus ordered Poseidon to sink the entire island into the ocean."

Pythagoras makes a small, choking sound; Hercules however just frowns and snaps, "Jason, I think you've been out in the sun far too much. You're speaking nonsense! How can you say-?"

"I speak the truth!" Jason shouts in anger, in despair... in fear. "Do you know me as someone who would joke with that? The water-level is rising, a huge storm is coming and the birds have been dead silent for days... I've been to the temple. Poseidon's symbols have all cracked and fell down from the walls. The Oracle herself told me that there was nothing I could do to prevent the catastrophe; she cried and bid farewell…"

Jason glances at his friends with plea in his eyes. Hercules has finally shut up, but he still eyes Jason with doubt - though the hard set of his mouth and the thin sheen of sweat on his forehead suggest that he has started questioning himself at last.

On the other hand, Pythagoras is white as a sheet of paper. He hasn't uttered a word since Jason began confessing, his mouth however is constantly open in wonder and shock, wide eyes boring into Jason's like he's trying to look inside of him.

After long minutes of silence, Jason turns back to Hercules.

"Please," he begs, "if you don't believe the man who came from the future, believe your friend whom you've come to know better than your palm these past years."

Something flashes across Hercules' eyes, his mouth opens - but Pythagoras is quicker with his statement. "I believe him."

Two heads snap to look at him in unison.

"Really?" Jason murmurs, suddenly not quite daring to believe his ears.

The nod Pythagoras gives him is firm and definite. "I do." Then, he glances at Hercules, expanding his statement further. "Jason muttered the same thing the day I met him. When I told him he was in Atlantis, he looked utterly shocked and muttered something about 'the lost, mythological city under the ocean'…" He glimpses toward Jason, and his eyes fall closed for a second, as if he is reliving that moment of the past. "I thought you were delirious."

Jason's heart is still beating like crazy, now with the added effect of the fact that Pythagoras can apparently still recall things Jason had said to him three minutes into their acquaintance. Suddenly, as he gazes into those blue eyes, he wishes to say something, ask, give or demand... But then he remembers the situation they're in, and that shatters the moment like glass.

"Then... Then what are we to do?" Hercules asks, his voice tight with barely suppressed panic. "If the whole damn city is to sink, where the hell could we go?"

Jason can only think of one place that could possibly work.

"To Greece."

In Atlantis, Jason never missed electricity and the Internet half as much as he now misses the orange of oil lamps, the fusty, uncomfortable beds, the weekly washes within the basins. He is almost physically ill by the modern vehicles he used to take for granted, and would give half of his arm to be able to hop on a horse and trot into the marketplace when he feels like it. He misses the clanging sounds that swords make when dancing together, the coolness of hard metal against his skin, the strange but oddly reassuring scent of Pythagoras' old, yellow parchments.

Today, he visits a library. He circles the shelves, looking for books about his late friends or 'the myth of Atlantis', but not quite daring to ask.

Maybe he shouldn't do this after all. Maybe this is just as bad of an idea as watching Hercules was.

Yet it's as if he was a child picking at a scab; even though he knows it will bloody hurt, he still desperately longs for the faintest fragments he can gather about his former life. To prove himself he didn't just dream it all up, like the doctors mention.

As he passes a corner, the name of Pythagoras catches his ears, making him halt in disbelief. He skims the area and spots a group of high school students gathered around one of the large tables with lots of books before them.

"God, I hate this topic! Why did the guy have to discover such ridiculous things?" one of the boys groans.

"Yeah, who the hell cares about triangles anyway?"

"Don't talk about Pythagoras like that!" a gentle-looking girl mutters in defence. "He was a genius who solved problems and answered questions that went way beyond his age."

"Well, he must've been a right boffin," another girl sniggers, mocking the mathematician. "Going on about bloody triangles all day and never doing anything besides chatting about geometry! I'm surprised he wasn't stoned to death for boring thousand generations of kids to death and to suck at learning his theorems."

When the girl looks up, she catches Jason eyeing them. Abruptly, the laughter soon dies out like it was slashed with a knife.

It takes a few moments for Jason to realise that he's been burning holes into the kids with his gaze, his face heated up from anger, his fists so tightly clenched that his knuckles are threatening to break skin.

Before the brats could figure whether to summon a librarian and have him thrown out for glaring at them as if he was soon-to-be a mass-murderer, Jason hastily retreats and storms out of the building.

" Another ship has gone down!" Hercules shouts over the sharp cry of the wind.

Eyes fluttering shut, Jason murmurs a soft prayer for the spirit of the deceased. This being the fourth ship to have sunk in the last twenty minutes, Jason's heart aches for them, especially because these were of the few people who have believed him when he stormed into the marketplace and yelled about the upcoming flood until his throat felt like splitting in two.

The guards soon took him to the palace for causing panic. Jason hastily told the royal family about the upcoming catastrophe - though he mentioned that he saw it in a dream sent directly by the gods, having said that, the king only chortled and summoned the Oracle.

"Is there truth to what this man proclaims?" King Minos asked her later, amusement clear on his arrogant face. "Is our great kingdom's fate to fall through the hands of gods who've abandoned us?"

The Oracle looked deep into Jason's eyes, and he knew her response to the King's question before the words slipped from her mouth.

"No, your highness. I see no such thing in our future."

Jason closed his eyes in sorrow even though the king laughed out triumphantly.

"There you see, Jason, hero of Atlantis!" the sarcastic words fell from his mouth like dripping venom. "In the light of your past heroic deeds, I let you off now with a warning. Go, and never cause such disturbance again among my subjects!"

Regardless of the King's commands, Jason remained at the palace, not departing until he was able to pull the princess away for the moment.

"I wasn't lying," he protested in a hushed, hurried tone for her ears only. "The Oracle believes it is our fate to sink into the ocean along with the island, so she lied to your father. Please believe me."

Ariadne searched his face for a long moment before reaching up and slowly stroking a soft hand over his cheek. "I believe you, Jason." A pause came. "Find a ship and escape with your friends while you still can."

Jason quivered. "But you-"

She silenced him with a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth.

"Take my bracelet. It's gold; buy ships for everyone who believes you. I will pray for your success." Then, before Jason could breathe another words, she scurried along."

Now, as they are rocking on the harsh waves further away from Atlantis, they can see that the entire island is rumbling, the earth shaking like invisible giants were playing roughly with it. By now residents of Atlantis seem to have realised the inevitable danger, but for them it is too late now to shelter themselves.

"By the name of the gods!" an alarmed outcry is suddenly heard from below. "There is a leak in the ship! We have a leak!" There are no words to describe the panic that breaks out. Dozens of people start running around the deck, shouting, cursing and crying.

"We are all going to sink like the others!"

"The gods really want us to see our deaths!"

"What have we done to deserve this?"

In the midst of chaos, Jason scans the area for his friends. When he finds them, Hercules turns to look at him with terror in his eyes, not an inch of colour left on his face. Pythagoras, who's barely standing on his feet next to the older man, is equally as pale.

"We are going to die," he whispers in a ghostly tone, voice barely audible and yet rising goose-bumps on Jason's skin. "Poseidon won't let us escape."

"He must!" Jason snaps firmly, and grabs the trembling Pythagoras by the arm. "Go and find a boat; we're leaving the ship!"

"What? Have you gone mad?"

"Jason, if no one's-"

"I don't care about the others!" Jason yells, successfully cutting both his friends off. "You, Pythagoras, and you, Hercules, will survive! You'll have a long and full life in Greece, and mankind will talk about you thousands of years from now! Trust me, I know!"

His friends stare at him in stunned silence, until a sudden noise, a crash, makes them all shudder in surprise.

They shift to stare back at Atlantis. The island has just split into two, one half already flooded by the rising water. Biting on his lip, Jason tears his eyes away from the dying land and pushes his friends in the direction of the boats as the panic of the passengers aboard the ship reaches its peak.

"Get inside, now! We've got to leave. It's started."

"I don't belong here."

It's some time past 11pm, and Jason is finishing up his third pint of beer. (It's not even worth comparing to some of the drinks he'd experimented with Hercules in the past five years that has now reduced to nothing but a 'bad dream', but it's still enough to make his throat burn from alcohol and his brain to stop thinking so much for a while.) He feels terrible, and doesn't mind that the steward clearly doesn't give a fuck of Jason's shit life that he's continuously rambling about.

He doesn't expect an answer, so he's more than surprised when he does get one.

"I know the feeling, mate."

Jason cocks his head back, gazing at the source. The bloke, who must be around his age, is parched at the table behind Jason with only a small glass of gin as company. He's got dark hair, sharp cheekbones, and bright blue eyes that seem to bore straight into Jason.

"Want to natter about it?" the stranger asks him, raising his glass to his lips.

Jason waves to the pub steward for another pint before answering. "I lost everything. Everything, you see? My home. Friends. The reason for living. This…" he mutters, making a wild gesture with his arms, "this is no longer my home. And I just…" He breaks off, sniffs, and turns away. "Right now, I just want to wake up from this and find myself where I belong."

"If you ever find a way to do that, then please let me know." The bloke stands up, gathers his glass and crosses the gap over to Jason, eyeing the empty chair next to him. "Mind if I sit with you? I could use some company."

"Sure, take a seat." The man takes the chair next to him, Jason offering him his hand the second he is sitting. "I'm Jason."

The bloke smiles and shakes his hand. "Merlin."

Huh. Jason shrugs, and goes back to his drink, but can feel the man - Merlin - eyeing him with so much intensity that he's sure his shirt might catch fire. After a minute or so, he can't bear it for longer. "What is it?"

"You're something," Merlin says with another light smile that makes his face lit up like he was much younger than Jason after all. "When I tell people my name, they usually snort and make jokes about it, or think I'm having them on."

"My best friends are called Pythagoras and Hercules," Jason blurts without thinking (and isn't that strange? He never told a soul about his Atlantian friends before), not quite daring to look directly at Merlin and see what kind of face he makes at that. "I won't be thrown off the hook by unusual names."

"Is that so?"

The strange hum that follows his confession sort of unnerves him, so Jason takes a gulp from his glass, knocking back some of the beer. Clearing his throat, he then asks as casually as he can manage, "And what about you?"

"Me? I'm waiting for my friend."

"Oh. Is he not coming?'

Merlin's mouth pulls up into an odd smile that is more like a pained grimace. "He's late."

"Well, that's a bit crap. Have you been waiting long?"

Jason is surprised by the dead silence that follows his innocent - or so he'd thought - question. He turns to glance at the man, like, really look, and is shocked to see how defeated he seems to be. The shoulders of the man have slugged, lips hardened into a line, his previously bright blue eyes now dark and heavy with sorrow.

Suddenly, Merlin resembles a broken, frail man, and Jason can hardly resist the urge to rub at his eyes in disbelief. Never had he met a man more… out of age, as to say.

"Yeah," Merlin finally sighs, peering into the pit of his glass but clearly not seeing it. "But I won't stop waiting for him. Who knows when he might show up? This might be just the night."

"I hope it is," Jason finds himself saying. "It would be nice. Not having both of us depressed, I mean. My problem can't be solved, yours on the other hand…" Shit, not quite a good direction of thoughts. Attempting to close his eyes against them, he fails, the images of Atlantis sinking into the ocean all the more vivid.

"Tell me about this home of yours," Merlin murmurs, almost visibly tearing himself off his memories. "Is it a nice place?"

"The most beautiful city I have seen in my life." He can't help it; he must refrain from opening his eyes in order to map out the image in front of him. He unsure as to whether it was either the alcohol or the sympathetic company of Merlin; regardless, the memories sooth his soul like balm. Jason continues rambling. "So different from London! It was nothing I initially expected and everything I never knew I wanted. Always full of miracles, danger; even those I enjoyed, I lived for adventure… And I found friends, great friends. I never had real friends growing up here, you know? These on the other hand were so much more. And with their help, I came to know myself. I realised who I was and my place in life… but…"

His voice slowly halts. "In the end, I could do nothing. Everything sank before my very eyes, and now I'm back here, and it's as if those years were nothing but dreams. Who knows, maybe I've gone nuts since I crashed with the sub. But you know what?" He lifts his head and slowly focuses on Merlin's eyes. "If I was dreaming until now, I prefer to return to sleep and never awake, not to this.

His therapist didn't know this much into Jason's life. Perhaps now he's beginning to open up due to the alcohol making him tipsy and rather social, but somehow Jason believes that the strange young man's company is to be 'blamed'. Jason can't help but ramble on. Merlin's expression is full of understanding and compassion that never before had Jason seen on another man. Maybe he really understands.

"It was the same with me," Merlin admits a low tone, so softly like he was afraid of waking up a baby. "When I went into that new city, never in my life did I imagine that it'd be the place where I met my almost-father, my best friends, my family. I came to understand myself… or so I'd thought. In all though, I failed my destiny." His voice turns bitter. "I suppose that's why I have to wait so much for him. It's my punishment for failing."

Jason looks down at his glass and thinks about the way Atlantis disappeared from the earth like it was never there. Has he also failed his destiny? The Oracle told him that there was nothing he could do, but maybe if he'd tried harder… maybe if he'd challenged the gods…

But he couldn't think of anything else but getting Pythagoras and Hercules to safety. Above everything else, he knew that they must stay alive.

"And I fell in love," Merlin whispers. Jason looks up, and is stunned to instantly meet the other man's earnest gaze. "Did it happen to you as well?"

Jason swallows around the hard lump that has formed in his throat. Staring at the blue eyes of Merlin, he thinks of another, similar pair… but he can't gather enough brainpower to form thoughts, never mind a sentence.

Merlin however seems to understand, for his mouth suddenly tilts up in a reminiscence of a smile. "Have you ever told him?"

Jason doesn't wonder how he knows it's a 'him'. Instead, he just shakes his head, watching the small smile wither away from Merlin's face.

"No? Then you're a fool." The bloke sighs and downs the remainder of his drink in one go, firmly placing the glass back on the table. "I was a fool, too. I also never told mine, so I've been living in regret for longer than you can possibly imagine."

"But you can still make it right," Jason croaks out, not quite meeting Merlin's eyes. "When your friend finally shows up… You can still tell him. For me, I can't - my friends have all long been dead. And you can't send messages through time."

This one fact is what hurts Jason the most - that by now they've been long, long gone from this world. When he'd come round six months ago after being fished out of the ocean like some merman, the past five years of his life vanishing without a trace, asking on the whereabouts of his friends was the first thing that had come to his mind. "What about Pythagoras? What do you know of him? And Hercules? Tell me!"

The paramedics concluded that he was delirious, assuming that he'd swallowed too much saltwater, affecting his brain - and for the first few days whilst Jason was hospitalized, he too, believed that. The assumptions stuck with him for a short while, his experience and life in Atlantis was just made up stories from his mind.

Gradually he began to physically recover, days turning into weeks, although his mind and soul never recovered, his heart forever broken.

The first time he turned his computer on after the incident with the sub, he searched Pythagoras' name on Google. The search results came up with this: "Pythagoras of Samos, the great mathematician and philosopher. Not much is known about his youth, but he became well-known around Greece for the countless discoveries and theorems he had made during…" That was the moment Jason realised that it all had happened, his mind not delirious. Now, he wonders if it would be easier if he could just write it off as a delirious dream. Sometimes the weight of his memories is just too much for him to bear.

Merlin suddenly leans closer to him, eyeing him with an odd, calculating expression on his face. "Tell me, do you believe in magic?"

"I do."

Jason doesn't hesitate for a second. Had someone asked him five years… or even half a year ago, undoubtedly he'd have laughed at them. Following his life in Atlantis, his opinion has changed. Without a doubt he knows that magic is a pulsing, a very much live part of the world, and regardless as to whether people are aware of it or not, it still affects their lives. They're just fortunate enough not to know about magic quite like he does.

"Good," says Merlin with a nod of his head. "Not many people believe in it nowadays. I'll tell you something, then: well, I'm sort of what you'd call a wizard."

Jason's heart leaps at that, but Merlin doesn't give him enough time to comment. He just leans even closer and looks at Jason like he was the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen.

"And I sense an amazing amount of magic oozing from you," he whispers. "That's what first caught my eye. The problem is, I've never encountered such magic before. It's blazing and vivid and bright… but doesn't act out like mine. I have a feeling you can't even use it, it's just there as part of yourself. If I were to compare it with others, it's very similar to what I've felt when I visited ancient ruins in Greece… but still not quite that. How can this be, Jason?"

Jason's breath hitches, his throat closing up so tightly that he can't even gulp anymore. He opens his mouth to mutter something, but nothing comes.

Finally, Merlin takes pity on him. Pulling out a tissue out from one of his pockets, he strokes his hand lightly over it whilst mumbling something with a low tone, and Jason swears he can see his blue eyes flash glimpsing a bright golden light… A second later, the bright light fades, his eyes returning to their usual blue, and Merlin hands Jason the tissue with a light smirk on his face.

There is a name - the name being Merlin Emrys - with a phone number and an e-mail address written down on it, like it was a business card.

"I'm glad I met you," he says while standing up and fishing out his wallet. "I think we should talk more sometime. Ring me up if you feel the need to chat and be miserable together."

Jason watches his new acquaintance pay for his drink in silence (oh, and apparently for Jason's as well), put on his jacket and wave to him - before he could leave the pub, however, Jason abruptly grabs his wrist.

"You said you're a wizard," he murmurs hastily, his heart thumping as it pounds through his ears. "Then send me back to them. Please, send me back! I beg you!"

The look Merlin gives him is full of sorrow and sympathising grief.

"I'm sorry I can't be of help, Jason," he murmurs. "I truly am."

He then leaves, Jason once again alone with the remainder of his pint.

If he weeps after that, he later pretends he doesn't remember.

The last of the escaping ships disappears into the depths of the ocean before their very eyes.

Hercules, big strong Hercules trembles like fragile leaves on a breezy autumn day. Pythagoras leans into Jason, eyes fixed on the sinking ship, tears rolling down his cheeks, leaving wet marks on the shoulders of his tunic.

Jason looks past the ship and watches the top of the mountains that were once towering high into the sky now barely above the water-level. The enormous walls of the city are long gone from sight, yet it's as if he can still hear the screams of the drowning people.

"Everyone's gone," Pythagoras chokes out in a broken voice. " Everyone."

"We are still here," Jason says firmly, hugging the man closer to himself and trying to find some peace in how his heart hammers against Jason's own.

Hercules shots a grim look at them. "Yeah, but for how long?"

As if in answer to that, the waves beneath them begin to intensify, growing stronger with each incoming wave, causing the boat to shake.

"What's happening?" Pythagoras spurts out ice-cold water after an extremely long wave comes into contact with them.

"The gods are adamant in not letting any of us go," Hercules forces through his gritted teeth. "I'm afraid we are going to meet our end here, my friends."

"No!" Jason slams his fist into the wooden board under his feet, shouting over the crackling of their boat, "You're going to live, and people will never stop telling the stories of your lives! There will be sculptures, books, films and paintings dedicated to you, Hercules, and the name of Pythagoras will be forever known as one of the greatest mathematicians in history!"

"You hear me, Poseidon?" Jason cries into the wind. "They are going to live!"

As a result, the next incoming wave upturns the boat, sending the three the ocean.

The freezing water hits Jason like a physical punch, his breath stuck in his lungs. After painfully long moments, he struggles back to the surface and gulps hungrily from the cold air.

Hercules is already up with him, holding onto their boat with both hands, trying to turn it back up. When he sees Jason though, his already pale face turns ghostly white. "Where's Pythagoras?"

Jason's heart skips a beat.

In a second, he dives back under the ocean in auto-pilot, eyes searching desperately for his friend. To his relief, he soon catches sight of the man; judging by the look of it, his members must have perished from hypothermia from the freezing water.

Jason reaches for Pythagoras, grabs him by the arms, and then forces their way back up to the surface - but abruptly some unseen power starts clinging to his ankles, stopping him and trying to pull him back down. With some struggle, he manages to shake the invisible hands off and pulls Pythagoras up. The blond coughs heavily, but at least he is conscious.

"Come on, get in," Hercules pants at them, reaching for Pythagoras from the boat he has managed to turn the right way up.

Jason barely finishes manoeuvring the shivering Pythagoras up when the invisible hands return with renewed force to claw into his legs again.

"Jason!" Pythagoras grabs his arms before he could be dragged down under the ocean.

Jason might have swallowed a bit too much water after all, because he thinks he can hear a dark chuckle resonating long in his ears.

But suddenly, he understands.

"He wants me," Jason pants with the sudden realisation as he next breaks free of the clench.

"Wha-?"

"It's me. Poseidon, he wants me!" He closes his eyes and tries very hard to ignore the sick feeling in his stomach. "He brought me here through the ocean… and now he intends to take me back through it."

"No… NO!" Pythagoras now clings to Jason with such a force that it should physically hurt him, but this doesn't compare to the agony that intends to destroy his heart. The wide blue eyes bore into him, fear and terror flashing through the shining orbs. "Jason, that's not true, that can't be true-"

"If I go, he'll let you through-"

"You don't know that!"

"-and you can go to Greece-"

"He's just destroyed a whole kingdom; you can't possibly believe he'll just let us escape!"

" -where no harm will come to you," Jason finishes firmly, even though his soul shatters into tiny little pieces with every uttered word. "Hercules, keep him down!"

Hercules shares a short but hard look with Jason, then grabs Pythagoras without question and forces him to let go.

"Let me go, Hercules, we can't let him- Jason!"

There is so much fear in his eyes, so much worry, so much affection… it breaks Jason's heart just to glance at him. But he doesn't tear his eyes away - he knows that this is probably the last time he will get to merge in them.

He tears the necklace from around his neck and pushes it into Pythagoras' hand, which is cold like ice against his fingers. "Keep this with you. I know he'll let you go. The waves will direct you to the mainland. I suspect it's no further than two days time-"

"Fuck Poseidon!" If the rare act of swearing wasn't a clear enough indicator of his rage, Pythagoras elbows Hercules hard in the side and makes a grab for Jason again. "He can't take you away! I don't care where you came from, you belong here!"

Tears are streaming down his pale face, and Jason would like nothing more than to wipe them away. Instead, he shifts away from the range of his arms and meets Hercules' eyes grimly. "Take care of him."

He's surprised to see that his other friend's eyes are also shining with unshed tears, but he sets his jaw hard and nods firmly at the request.

At that moment, Pythagoras jumps forward and manages to get a grip on Jason's shoulders. His eyes have never been this wide before, and Jason would happily get lost forever in the depths of those huge, dark pupils. "Jason, I-"

But then the invisible claws suddenly tear into his ankles, and Jason is already being dragged deeper and deeper into the ocean…

He keeps seeing the bright blue eyes until the blinding white light takes over his sight.

Sipping on a steaming hot cup of coffee, Jason is sitting in his flat in front of his Mac, browsing job advertisements on various websites.

The problem is, all of them want frequently updated CVs, which is not so good because how the hell should he update his? He can just see it in front of himself:

'Additional skills: Talented in swordsmanship, as well as performing divine acrobatics and saving big cities from falling at the hands of various threating beasts and/or evil people. Has thorough experience handling magical matters.

Achievements: Known as The Minotaur Slayer, The Doom of Numerous Beasts, Hero of Atlantis.'

Jason snorts and chuckles, though in truth he'd like to weep instead. Only eight or so months ago he was fighting with Medusa, running from angry palace guards, bantering with Hercules, hunting for a cursed griffin, listening to Pythagoras babble triumphantly about the hypotenuse… and now here he is, sitting in front of a computer he almost completely forgot how to use properly, updating his CV.

It aches so much that sometimes, he can barely find the will in himself to get up in the morning.

Suddenly, a small message window pops up in the corner of his screen. Jason clicks on it and is surprised to see that he got an e-mail from Merlin.

It's quite short, and there's a link to a news website attached.

Thought you might find this interesting.

Apparently, you were wrong. We can send messages through time.

- M.

Jason frowns, but clicks on the link, sipping his coffee until the site has loaded.

The headline makes him sway in the chair.

ANCIENT GREEK MEMORIAL RECOVERED FROM ITALY

- Lost message of world-known Greek figure Pythagoras

Last week a group of Italian archaeologists were able to recover the fragments of a unique memorial from an unnamed area in Croton, Italy. The 70x150 cm wide marble tablet was discovered accidentally by a couple of Swedish tourists who got lost during a sightseeing tour and found themselves in a hidden cave.

The tablet bears a wonderfully detailed embossing about the figure of a mythical Greek character, presumably Theseus, and is said to be one of the most significant artistic findings of the past five years. The identity of the artist is unfortunately not indicated anywhere on the memorial. Archaeologists however have every reason to believe that it was commissioned by none other than the great Greek philosopher and mathematician, Pythagoras of Samos.

The tablet proved to have been created around the time Pythagoras had resided in Croton, Magna Graecia, and the cravings found on the lower half of the tablet suggests that he had it made solely for personal reasons.

As the memorial is heavily damaged, so far only fragments of the original text have been determined, but archaeologists are doing their best to recover as much of the craving as it is possible. The English translation of the text is as follows:

As your people talk about the stories of our lives,

we shall keep on sharing yours with our own.

- for there is no greater hero - you, friend.

- from before our eyes.

Let us meet again, -

or, if there is no closer place, in the afterlife.

With love, till my last breath and after,

Pytha-ras

As the signature apparently seems to be that of Pythagoras of Samos, the existence of this memorial seems to call forth several exciting questions - among which one of the most interesting no doubt concerns the identity of this uncanny lost beloved, and the fact that this side of the famous Greek mathematician could have been undiscovered for thousands of years. After the initial examinations are over, the newly found art object will be taken back to Greece for further-

Jason closes the window and buries his head into his trembling palms.

His eyes sting like hell; he can't breathe without letting out all kind of muffled, strangled sounds, and from the loud heartbeats that are pounding in his ears, he feels as if he's going to go deaf.

With love, till my last breath and after, it said.

With love, till my last breath and after.

With love…

Jason pulls at his own hair until his head aches, yet it's nothing compared to what's going on inside his chest. He shuts his eyes tight and bites on his lip, but the burning hot wetness that rolls down his face crumbles the last of his willpower.

He chokes out a broken sob into the silence of the room.

"I want to go home," he whispers at the walls.

But no one is there to answer.