flooded lungs | hercahontas
There were a lot of times Hercules wished he was better with words, but in recent events all he wanted was for everyone including himself to stop talking all together. Words seemed to get less and less important since they all swirled in the same pattern. Since his debut as an official hero he had been able to solve almost everything (save his engagement) by simply defeating the thing labeled monster before him. Now there was no monster and just a bunch of the same words over and over.
After time passed with the same news he grew the habit of sprawling out on a couch with Pocahontas simply watching the news for -- for anything. Any news. Sometimes for so long they would fall asleep in front of the television. On days when it was worse they went out wrapped up in scarves and visit old memories around hundred acre wood. Young Hercules, recently moved from Greece to Disney in order to find his destiny. Finding Zeus, meeting King Mufasa and his family, getting dragged to boring conferences and sneaking out for the first time to crack stupid jokes and climb trees and race each other up mountains.
Today was the same as any other the passed few weeks. Hercules and Pocahontas inhabited the same couch, there were two empty pizza boxes on the kitchen counter, sitting in comfortable silence except for the TV noise of news reports he didn't really care for. Hercules had even made himself comfortable with his head in Poca's lap, staring off unfocused. He had slacked on training lately, but Phil didn't push him. It had cut into his life so much he hadn't had time for anything anymore. He knew being a hero was more than a job, he didn't think about the possibility of... anything. Especially not something like --
The television beeped abruptly, like an alarm. Hercules rubbed his eyes and sat up quickly. He glanced at Pocahontas and then at the television, probably with too much anticipation. Oh gods, please be good news.
Red banner flashed. Lots of words flew across the screen with it. Hercules probably read them a hundred times trying to make sense of everything. His mouth opened slightly, he blinked hard a few times. Hercules seriously wished he was one of those people who could laugh in disbelief or deny everything in reaction to sad news. It would be so much easier than this, this ridiculous kind of panic that makes him feel like he can actually do something about it if he got up and went somewhere right now that he could fix everything and everyone would be okay and happy and no one would be dead.
And Simba wouldn't be dead.
It seemed like a false statement.
He didn't say anything. He sat there with his mouth open and his eyes still glued to the screen and didn't do anything. Words felt stupid, gods, words were so far from important it seemed like trying to form any together would be a complete waste of time. Hercules sighed, reached for the remote and turned off the TV, then stared helplessly at his best friend.