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tamingthemuseTitle:Strong
Fandom: Original
Prompt: #288 - Hercules
Warnings: Mention of death.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: No matter what he did Hercules had always felt he would disappoint his mother.
No matter what he did Hercules had always felt he would disappoint his mother. He had never done it on purpose it had just happened. She had named him after the Greek hero because she wanted him to be tall and strong. She wanted a son that would impress people by his size and instead she got a small thin boy who couldn't grow a muscle. Technically he could but his figure was slender by nature and he hated sports. As a result he had never grown big and strong and had remained slender and small. He had never become the boy that would be the fantasy of all the girls in the neighbourhood, instead he had become a loner. He had tried to explain to his mother once that Hercules wasn't only a Greek god that there were other characters named that way. He had thought of Hercule Poirot but hadn't dared said this name after seeing the glance his mother had thrown at him.
Years had passed and he had learned not to care anymore about his size and shape. He wasn't physically strong but he was good at other things. He had moved out of the house and had seen his mother as little as possible while regularly sending her money to help care for their old house. He loved her, he truly did. She had raised him and offered him a home in spite of everything, but he hated how she still seemed to resent his appearance, even now that he was an adult and had lost a bit of his teenage extreme slenderness. So he had stayed away. And now she was dead and it was his fault. She had tried to lift a heavy chair up the stairs and had ended up tripping on one of the steps, falling down and breaking her neck. If he had been there he could have helped. The chair would still have been too heavy for the both of them but he could have shown her there were other ways to be strong. He had learned through the years that machines and little devices could carry things humans arms couldn't. He had tried to explain it to her one day to make her forgive him for his appearance but she hadn't listened and he hadn't dared show her after her obvious disinterest. And now she was dead because he had never been brave enough to show her, to explain to her there were other ways to be big and strong.
"Sir..."
The voice of the cemetery guard brought him back to reality. He turned his head to the tall man. He was strong with big muscles. His mother would have liked him.
"I'll do it," he said his voice full of resolve.
"Sir...," the other man started raising a question in his voice.
"Yes I can do it."
And with those words he went off to his car, brought back ropes and polies, and started to work around his mother coffin. He might not have the muscles, he might not have been able to ever show her how strong he could be with a little help, but he would give her that. He would be the one to bring down into earth her heavy coffin. He would show her that he could be strong and that in spite of everything he had loved her. He could have been there for her if only she hadn't been so stubborn and spiteful.
"I can do it mom," he repeated in a whisper over the coffin before starting to move it gently, slowly into the ground.
Fandom: Original
Prompt: #288 - Hercules
Warnings: Mention of death.
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: All is mine.
Beta: None, so any mistakes you see are mine.
Summary: No matter what he did Hercules had always felt he would disappoint his mother.
No matter what he did Hercules had always felt he would disappoint his mother. He had never done it on purpose it had just happened. She had named him after the Greek hero because she wanted him to be tall and strong. She wanted a son that would impress people by his size and instead she got a small thin boy who couldn't grow a muscle. Technically he could but his figure was slender by nature and he hated sports. As a result he had never grown big and strong and had remained slender and small. He had never become the boy that would be the fantasy of all the girls in the neighbourhood, instead he had become a loner. He had tried to explain to his mother once that Hercules wasn't only a Greek god that there were other characters named that way. He had thought of Hercule Poirot but hadn't dared said this name after seeing the glance his mother had thrown at him.
Years had passed and he had learned not to care anymore about his size and shape. He wasn't physically strong but he was good at other things. He had moved out of the house and had seen his mother as little as possible while regularly sending her money to help care for their old house. He loved her, he truly did. She had raised him and offered him a home in spite of everything, but he hated how she still seemed to resent his appearance, even now that he was an adult and had lost a bit of his teenage extreme slenderness. So he had stayed away. And now she was dead and it was his fault. She had tried to lift a heavy chair up the stairs and had ended up tripping on one of the steps, falling down and breaking her neck. If he had been there he could have helped. The chair would still have been too heavy for the both of them but he could have shown her there were other ways to be strong. He had learned through the years that machines and little devices could carry things humans arms couldn't. He had tried to explain it to her one day to make her forgive him for his appearance but she hadn't listened and he hadn't dared show her after her obvious disinterest. And now she was dead because he had never been brave enough to show her, to explain to her there were other ways to be big and strong.
"Sir..."
The voice of the cemetery guard brought him back to reality. He turned his head to the tall man. He was strong with big muscles. His mother would have liked him.
"I'll do it," he said his voice full of resolve.
"Sir...," the other man started raising a question in his voice.
"Yes I can do it."
And with those words he went off to his car, brought back ropes and polies, and started to work around his mother coffin. He might not have the muscles, he might not have been able to ever show her how strong he could be with a little help, but he would give her that. He would be the one to bring down into earth her heavy coffin. He would show her that he could be strong and that in spite of everything he had loved her. He could have been there for her if only she hadn't been so stubborn and spiteful.
"I can do it mom," he repeated in a whisper over the coffin before starting to move it gently, slowly into the ground.
