Work Text:
When Hercules first materialized at the campsite, babbling about Timeron and Daphne and honeymoons and second chances, Iolaus thought that his friend was dead, that Sisyphus had tricked his way out of Tartarus again. By the time he dragged the story out of him, Iolaus was ready to kill something. Anything. Preferably Hercules. But Hercules couldn't remain visible for long, and Iolaus was left with the campfire and a small rock that rolled around aimlessly on the ground. The light dimmed as the fire burned low, but Iolaus kept watching the rock. It was going to be a long night.