Joxer The Mighty

By Kristina Andersson 
kriscat@gmail.com

Summary: Joxer looks back. 

This one just came to me when I was doing the dishes one day. I'm beginning to believe that my muse is the kitchen sink... 

Disclaimers: I do not own Joxer the Mighty. I whish I did though… 

Many hugs to my Beta Christine. 

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"I'm Joxer, Joxer the Mighty…" 

I don't know exactly when I started but I know it was somewhere between the time Jett 'accidentally' broke a couple of my ribs and the time Father pushed me down the stairs. 

Somehow between those incidents, I discovered that life became easier if I retreated into my own mind. 

In my mind I could do or become anything I wanted. 

I had discovered my own imagination. 

Now, most people would say, "So what?" 

But no one who's ever lived a time in my Father's house. 

Dreams and imagination was frowned upon. 

Yet, he demanded that we should be able to think for ourselves. Never telling us how he wanted something done. Just told us to do it. 

Expecting us to read his mind how things were supposed to be done. Giving us punishment if we couldn't figure out the right way (his way) of doing things. 

I remember being punished a lot. 

"I'm Joxer, Joxer the Mighty…" 

All three of us some how managed to develop imagination, 

How Jace uses his is obvious. He had to repress whom he was for so long, so when he became free, he practically exploded with creativity. 

His show is the result. 

Can't say I like it, but Jace is happy. 

"Jett?" some people would ask, "Jett doesn't have any imagination!" 

But anyone who says that obviously hasn't seen him at work. 

Unlike Jace, Jett's creativity was allowed to roam free. Even encouraged. 

He uses his imagination to kill and torture. He's good at his job. A true artist. 

Father wanted us to be hard and cold. He got more than he asked for in Jett. 

Even Father is afraid of him. 

I'm not. 

I use my imagination to get away from the real world. 

At first it was just simple daydreaming. In my dreams I could beat Jett at anything, save the girl and still be home in time for supper, which my loving mother cooked of course, and be admired by everybody. 

In my dreams, my Father respects me. 

"I'm Joxer, Joxer the Mighty…" 

When Father started to train us to become warriors, Jett soaked up all the training like a sponge. 

Jace hated weapons and fighting, but still managed to end up on Father's good side once in a while. Despite him being 'in the risk zone of being a sissy boy'. 

I guess Father knew his oldest son better than he thought… 

I was hopeless. 

I really tried. I love being a warrior. To once lead Father's army, defending Greece was my biggest dream as a child. Now, I would settle for just defending Greece. Father can keep his army. 

I've loved War since the day Father brought us three to Ares' temple. Everything in the temple was black, red or steel gray. And there were several statues of… Him. 

I saw him! I did! He *was* there! I know he was. 

Jett said I was crazy, Father gave me a slap and told me to stop being an idiot. 

How does one stop to be an idiot? 

If you are an idiot, you usually doesn't realize that you are one, so how can you stop being something you don't know that you are? 

Jace just gave me a look and said I really had a vivid imagination. 

But I did see him! Ares *was* there! He was! I didn't imagine it. 

He was there. 

"I'm Joxer, Joxer the Mighty…" 

When I was eleven, my daydreams started to change. I know that because it all started to change after The Beating. 

I don't really remember what I did. I think I played with one of Father's swords. It got cracked. 

I never did that again. Never played with Father's weapons. Not after The Beating. 

Jace later told me the healer didn't think I would survive. 

I didn't wake until three weeks later. Jace and Jett nursed me back to life. Hard to believe, isn't it? That the King of Assassins helped someone back to life. But he did. 

Mother couldn't be bothered and Father… 

It was probably good that he didn't came to see me. He isn't really the healing kind. 

Jett says that something probably broke in my head. But I can't tell any difference. 

When I was well enough to carefully walk down to the main Hall supported by Jace and Jett, Father was there. 

He looked at me and then gave me the dented sword. I'd earned it, he said. 

I still have it. 

Anyway, after The Beating, my dreams became more real. It was so easy to let go. 

And then the world was a better place to be. 

At least for a while. 

"I'm Joxer, Joxer the Mighty…" 

Jace left first. Things between him and Father had been escalating for quite some time. It was just a matter of when Jace would leave. 

When I woke up one morning, Jace was gone. 

Father said, "Good riddance. The boy was a faggot anyway." 

Jett said that he wasn't surprised and that he didn't need anyone else anyway. 

I don't think Mother noticed Jace was gone until a couple of weeks later. She just looked at me when I told her and then turned her attention back to the tapestry she was weaving, without saying a word. 

I just wished that Jace had woken me up before he left. So I would've had the chance of saying Goodbye. 

Jett left two years later. He simply told my Father, in front of his best warriors, that he didn't have time for this crap any more. He had things to do, places to see and people to kill, as he eloquently put it. 

Father just nodded, and that was that. 

Jett gave me one of his rare smiles, not the one that says 'I'm an evil maniac who plans to kill you.' But the one that only I and Jace ever saw, the one that said, 'No matter what I say or do, you are my brothers and I like you guys better than anything in this world, even killing'. 

I haven't seen that smile in a while. 

Jett told me to cheer up, and that we would meet again someday and then left. 

I missed him. Jett was my protector. No one dared to touch me when Jett was around. If they did, Jett made them regret it. I can still see him standing over a big warrior, twice his size, hissing, "No one hurts my brother, but me." 

And Father of course. 

I left two months after Jett. 

All I was allowed to take with me was the clothes on my back and the sword. 

Left, got thrown out, same difference. I was alone. 

"I'm Joxer, Joxer the Mighty…" 

In a small village I met a wise old man. (Aren't all really old persons wise?) 

He told me that if you really wanted something real badly, and acted like you already had it, and had fate in the Gods; it might come true one day. 

It sounded like a good advice. I've followed it ever since. I really can't believe that the Blacksmith whose leftovers I got to make me an armor of called the old man crazy. No respect for the elders! 

I tried to be a good warrior, I really did. Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't. 

OK, Most of the time it didn't. 

But it did sometimes! Really. I even came up with a catchy theme song. I'm still using it. But some of the lyrics have changed since I met Gabrielle. 

Blond beautiful Gabrielle. She is a bard, Xena's sidekick and even Queen of the Amazons. Imagine that! 

I wish she were my sidekick. 

I would do anything for Gabrielle. 

Sure I would help Xena with practically anything. It's only courtesy between colleagues. We heroes have to stick together. 

But for Gabrielle, I would do anything. Even kill. 

Tartarus, I would die for her! 

But she doesn't see me that way. Not yet. That will change when I tell her how I feel. I haven't done that yet. 

I'm not scared or anything! I… just… have to wait for the right moment. So it becomes special. 

Then she'll realize what's been right in front of her all along. And then she'll love me. If I tell her at the right moment. 

She will. I'm sure of it. Well, almost sure. At least 50% sure. Or 40. Who really knows what's going on in women's heads anyway? 

"I'm Joxer, Joxer the Mighty…" 

So now I lay here beside the road. I think I've broken a rib or two. I'm not sure. Those men sure were big. I think I can stand up now. 

Nope, I'll just lay here a little longer. At least I still have my sword. And my armor. They are important. You can't be a warrior without a sword and armor. 

Well, Xena probably could, but she's different. She can do anything. I don't understand why she's so angry with Ares, though. 

I hope that me helping Xena haven't upset the God's. It would be nice to be a real good warrior before I'm too old. 

Maybe it has already begun? I did almost deck one of the men after all. And I'm sure the others will have bruises tomorrow. Heck! I almost beat them. I just didn't use all my strength and fighting skills. I didn't want to hurt them. They weren't worthy to fight Joxer the Mighty. They weren't warriors, only robbers. They probably didn't know any better. Maybe they have big families to support. 

Just think of all those poor children! And they're probably helping some dead partner's widow to survive too. The robbing business isn't safe. 

Good thing I went easy on them! 

I think I can stand up now. 

Yep. The ribs hurt a bit, but I'll live. Maybe Gabrielle and Xena are in Athens. Maybe they need help to do something really heroic. Well, I'm their man! 

Cause I'm Joxer, Joxer the Mighty. 

THE END
  
  
    

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