Work Text:
Whenever he was forced into going to bed, whether it was physically by Hecate (which happened frequently in the beginning), by the physical weight of hours of drinking weighing his heavy eyelids into unconsciousness (also a frequent cause in the first few years), or the exhaustion of having worked himself to the bone (more often now that he was forcing himself to do better) he dreamt of her. Sometimes, when he was lucky, they were good dreams. They smelt of honey and rose. Surrounded with greens and pinks and an infinite pale blue sky with just a few scattering of clouds. They were filled with the feeling of lying in the softest of spring grass as well as the smiles given by someone who truly loved him. The first person to ever truly love him.
They held hands and moved to kiss... And then he would wake up. Sometimes he’d think in the morning that perhaps the good dreams were the real nightmare after all. Because he woke up wherever he had fallen asleep (tangled in his bedsheets, the kitchen floor surrounded by liquor bottles, on his too-short sofa in his office at work that he constantly was telling himself to upgrade) alone. His hand was empty and his lips cold.
However, when he awoke from a nightmare, he decided that the loneliness after such a sweet sleep was far superior. His nightmares were full of the dark and he was both too big and too small at the same time. His skin was etched with the stars that seemed to permanently taint his skin now. He would be running to find her, hearing her voice just too far away to pinpoint. Sometimes that would be the entire dream. Sometimes he’d find her, hold her close to his chest, and tell her that he loved her, only for her to vanish from his touch just like she had. Sometimes his nightmares were reality. Were memories. Sometimes his nightmares were just the court scene exactly as it happened. The worst part was every time he was certain he could save her, that this time he could stop it from happening. He never could.
That was the nightmare he had had that evening. He woke up, suit wrinkled and neck stiff as he sat up. The work sofa seemed to be the resting place of tonight it seemed. He didn’t even remember passing out, never mind lying on the sofa. He used his sleeve to dry the crusted tears on his cheeks, taking a deep breath as he forced himself up. He straightened himself and stood from the offending piece of furniture. It was ten years that day. Ten years since he had been happy. He picked up his phone and dialled the number 1, feeling the phone immediately link his office phone to his right hand.
“Hades.”
“Give them powercuts. Just enough to annoy them at first, then make it happen more frequently.”
“Don’t you want to wait until the anniversary passes? Perhaps this will be the year she is pardoned.”
“... Do you truly think he would let me have her?” His fingers dug into his fist so hard that it just about drew blood from under his skin. He thought of her long hair and the way her laughter sounded like music to his ears. He wondered how the words ‘I love you’ would feel falling from her lips. He may never get to know. There was a breath of silence shared between them.
“Electricity shortages. On it.” Hecate finally answered and Hades let a tear fall down his cheek. They both knew Persephone would have done everything to impress Zeus at least 5 years in. There was no way that he was not just denying her for his own sick and twisted pleasure. And people always said Hades was the twisted one?
Hades hung up without another word and sat at his desk. He stared at his computer, pretending to work despite his brain betraying him. This was the one day of the year he couldn’t work and he couldn’t drink. All he could do is think about her and how it might be the day that he could be allowed to finally welcome her home. Properly. As not only a citizen of the Underworld but maybe as something more.
They had not even had their first date yet but her engagement ring sat heavy in his suit pocket. Her crown was also in a box collecting dust in his closet. He was just passing the time until he had her again, but he was unsure if he could wait any longer to have her in his arms.
The day came and went. No news. No news was as good as bad news. No announcement meant no Persephone. He was alone again for at least another year, perhaps another decade. He sat in his office, dark and alone, as the thoughts started to cause him to spiral. Zeus was probably at home enjoying himself despite Hades having cut him off from the things he loved as much as possible. Just like he had done to him. Yet he didn’t get it. He never would.
He would make him understand.
Hades sprung up from his desk chair as if it had burned him, breaking out into a dead sprint as he burst from his office and down the halls, people practically leaping out of his way. He ran and he ran, taking the stairs just purely because he couldn’t stop himself. His shoes were discarded halfway down, not being made for the speed he was desperate to keep. His suit jacket and tie had been next.
He stopped for just a moment when he arrived at the entrance of his tower, looking around as if he wasn’t sure where to go next. People were muttering to each other as they stared at him, hardly being subtly. He didn’t care. He ran to the entrance next, nearly running through the window in an effort to not charge into the people using the door, but he managed to get control of his feet at the last second. When he was finally outside and managed to get a breath of cold air, he could pick up the speed he wanted to again. His bare feet sprinted across the tarmac, people continuing to shriek as he forced them out of his way or for him to run right through them. Eventually, he picked up enough speed that he started to fly, his feet eventually not touching the ground again as he struggled to catch his breath. His lungs ached in the best way possible and he was not stopping yet.
Ten years.
It had been ten years.
He did not want to break that streak, but it felt like the clearest he’d thought in years.
He did not even knock as he stormed into his youngest brother's home. He stormed past his niece as she immediately stepped out of his way and marched right into the living room where Zeus sat, cigarette in one hand and drink in the other. His brother didn’t even seem to notice his presence and he fumed.
The scotch glass in the King of Gods’ hands shattered in an instant and suddenly he had his attention.
“Hades-?”
He was in front of him before he had even figured out his next move and grabbed him by the throat. Once upon a time, he had looked up to his little brother. Staring at him as if he had hung the moon and stars himself. His saviour. The first person to actually love him. Now as he pressed him again the wall of his home, raising him up by the neck, he was looking up at him in a completely different way.
This was not the Zeus he had known. The teenager that had let him call him Zu-Zu for months because he couldn’t pronounce his name without stammering. His best friend that had slept with him more often or not because he was afraid of both loneliness and the dark. His brother who gifted him Cerberus because he wanted him to have company even when he wasn’t able to be there.
Zeus was gasping for air and all he could do was hold on tighter and tighter . He wanted Zeus to feel as he did. Maybe taking away his ability to breathe would finally get the point across.
“Uncle Hades, please!” His niece’s words pierced through him and he finally realised what he was doing.
He dropped Zeus as if he’d burned him. He didn’t even realise he was crying until that moment. He could hardly see, how had he not realised. He step back once, then two steps, as Zeus took a moment to gather his own thoughts. He ran his sharp fingers through his white hair as his brother's purple eyes pierced through him. If looks could kill… well, Zeus would have been dead first in that case.
“What the fuck what that? What the fucking shit do you think you’re doing? WHY ARE YOU EVEN HERE?”
Hades' answer came out without him even wanting it to. He was a professional at keeping his emotions burned deep down, at keeping his lips locked tight and his words under a strict watch. He didn’t even blurt things… but it seemed like a day of impulsive decisions.
“I NEED YOU TO LOVE ME MORE .” He cried out in a moment of weakness and frustration, pulling on his hair in an attempt to keep himself grounded. “ LOVE ME MORE. LOVE ME MORE. LOVE ME MORE.” His voice broke and the emotion shown in the sentence was more than the two brothers had time to unpack. He wasn’t even sure if the word love had even been uttered between them in the last thousand years. He could see that Zeus was staring at him but he could not decipher the look through his blurred teary vision.
The silence that followed was deafening and as soon as Hades remembered how to run again, he was out the same way he came in. He wasn’t sure what he expected Zeus to do after his outburst. Say something? Follow him? Honestly, the whole conversation being pushed aside and forgotten should have been the number 1 expected response. It was what they were all good at. Just like their father seemed to have been an expert at.
He didn’t need Zeus anyway and he was done playing his stupid little games.
Hades let Hecate know to prepare his stallions and chariot for the morning. He was fixing this himself.