Chapter Text
she was all over him .
despite her slight form, she seemed to somehow cage his entire body, her hands reaching every crevice, every limb, everywhere. no matter how gentle she was, it felt like fire burning his skin. he couldn't breath when he was under her. he could hardly think. usually he would think of penelope, of his home, to get him through times like this, when just existing felt like suffering.
but he couldn't even think of her, the thought of his lover bringing him nausea and guilt rather than comfort. he couldn't bear to drag her into this, to taint her pure and lovely memory with this mess.
“please,” he found himself saying, despite knowing that it meant nothing to her. “please, i don't want this anymore.”
(as if he ever did)
she tilted her head slightly, blinking her eyes at him innocently.
“of course you do, love.”
something snapped and he started to struggle, his breath coming out in sharp gasps. he never struggled- in the beginning he had, but somewhere along the way, he gave up, resigning himself to be used like nothing more than a toy for the rest of time.
suddenly, his eyes flew open and he was met with pure darkness.
calypso-
he couldn't feel her overtop him anymore, but he knew she had to be there, she had to be sharing his bed, waiting to reach over and take what she wanted. his limbs tangled with the blankets as he pushed himself back until he hit the headboard, terror seizing his chest like a cold vice.
“odysseus?”
a sleepy voice broke his thoughts, and the knowledge that it was too deep, too different to be calypso’s, did little to ease his panic.
there was a shifting beside him, the bed giving as the figure beside him pulled herself up slightly. “love, are you alright?”
“penelope,” he forced out, his voice hoarse and wavered with anguish. “i’m sorry for waking you. i-...”
what could he possibly say to her?
there used to be days where they could tell each other absolutely anything. now, he lied to her almost every night.
“you don't need to apologize. ever,” she emphasized. her dark eyes shone with concern. “was it… a dream?”
“yeah. i’m sorry, i wish i could tell you more, trust me penelope, i-”
“i understand. i just wish i could take your pain from you.” her hand was reaching for his, and he had to fight the urge to recoil from her touch, despite how many years he yearned for it. it was just too fresh, calypso's voice still echoing in his head, her hands still imprinted on his body. it was like he was still…
“i need some fresh air,” he admitted, sitting up fully. he couldn't stand another second in this bed, couldn't stand lying in the dark. oh, how he wished he could be as comforted by it as he once was. “i’m sorry. please, go back to sleep. i’ll return soon.”
“odysseus-” he could tell that she wanted to protest, that the thought of letting him go pained her. but she always understood him, always saw straight through him in a way no one else could. she set her mouth, her eyes still filled with pain for him. “okay. please, don't go far. i’ll be here when you're ready.”
“of course,” he said, hesitating. the old him would have certainly taken her hand in his, planting a kiss on the mole near her knuckles and taking a moment to wallow in her. now, he couldn't bring himself to even look her in the eye, no matter how much his heart longed to. he slowly sat up from the bed, his feet touching the floor.
“i love you,” she said.
“i love you too. more than anything,” he replied softly, and this time, the words came easy. as easy as breathing.
he quickly got up and left the room, taking care to shut the door quietly as he stepped outside the room. the air outside was cooler, the marble halls stretching before him endlessly. they didn't bring him the comfort they did when he was younger- now, they felt cold and foreboding, rejecting him as a stranger.
he felt like a stranger, sometimes.
he didn't know if things would ever begin to feel right again.
even being with penelope, which was his greatest joy in life, felt tainted by his experiences on the island. calyspo had managed to seep her way into every aspect of his life, and even after they'd parted forever, she kept her claws dug into him. if he wasn't careful, they would dig into penelope too, and he could never allow that.
he knew it confused her and worried her, the way he kept himself boarded up, the way there were things he confessed he could never talk to her about. she wasn't hurt, even when it was her touch or words that sent him into a moment of panic, that he apologized for but couldn't explain. she just wanted to help him, to share his pain, to help him sleep a little more peacefully at night.
and he wanted that too. there wasn't anything he wouldn't give to be able to lay beside her, to share in her smile and laugh with her like they had since they were young. with no secrets, no burdens, no shame. to be able to fall asleep in her embrace and wake up, excited to bury himself in her chest and doze off again until the sun rose.
instead, he had returned a shameful excuse for a man, too drained and mentally fragile to be a good husband, much less a good ruler.
only one person knew the true reason behind his turmoil, and that was…
“odysseus?”
his eyes flew open, hands moving from where he had been pressing the heels into his eyes. he didn't realize he had been sliding down the wall until he had to straighten and steady himself.
“i wasn't summoning you,” he said to the much taller woman who was now standing before him.
“no,” she admitted, “but i had a feeling.”
he wanted to argue, to tell her that this wasn't like that day on the ledge, or even to tease her about how much she was at his beck and call lately. but he was too exhausted to do any of that, so he just brought his hands back up to this face, the pressure doing little to relieve the twisting in his stomach. “... you were right.”
“well, what is it?”
he could tell that this was still new to her, judging by the way she sounded more impatient than empathetic. but her expression was open, and he knew that she would listen. sometimes, that was all he needed.
“i… had a dream,” he said, his voice slow and hesitant, “it…” he broke himself off with a frustrated sound, allowing himself to slide down to the floor. “i don't know what's wrong with me, athena.”
as expected, she didn't say anything, so he inhaled and went on.
“it’s like my mind is permanently fragmented. i wake up next to penelope, but it doesn't feel like her. she feels like somebody else, like…” odysseus couldn't bring himself to say the name, but judging by athena’s narrowed eyes, she understood. “sometimes i don't feel like myself, either. what is the matter with me? why can't i just stop feeling like this? it doesn't make sense for me to still be afraid. it's an insult to penelope, to feel her touch and think of her.”
“i would argue that it makes sense,” athena said, her voice calm but clearly internally seething with anger towards calypso. “after seven years with her, you can't be angry with yourself for still being affected.”
“but i am.” odysseus allowed his head to fall into his knees. “this isn't me, athena. i've gotten past everything that came before this, but my time with calypso is what breaks me?”
“you aren't broken. not yet.” athena said firmly. “and i will never allow you to be. the world hasn't seen the best of you yet, odysseus.”
normally, her rare praise would've sent a warm feeling of satisfaction from his chest, but now, they rang hollow. they felt so untrue he would've laughed, if his face wasn't currently pressed into his knees.
“and i’m sure penelope would tell you the same. she wouldn't be angry with you, so why are you angry with yourself on her behalf?”
“she doesn't even know, athena,” odysseus said helplessly. “i can't even tell her. i haven't even attempted to.”
“well, i can't tell you if that's right for you,” athena said, wearing a slight frown. “only you can do that. but i know that penelope is a sensible woman. she would never blame you for what happened to you. she cares about you a lot, and if i’m gonna be honest, it's a little revolting.”
“i know.” he raised his head again, blinking blearily. he was so tired. “i think… it's me. the reason why i won't tell her.”
“how so?”
“isn't it crazy? that i faced trojans, sirens, and a cyclops, and the thing i’m most afraid of is this?” he laughed again, but it came out watery, unhumorous, and a little deranged. “that the thing that really sends fear down my spine, is the thought of saying it out loud? of telling my wife that i was-?”
“i made you that way,” athena reminded him gently. “fighting monsters is easy, eventually. this… is hard. it will be hard, odysseus.”
“i know,” he said, his voice wavering. “i know, but i didn't think anything could be this hard. i didn't think anything could… hurt this badly.”
“i’m sorry. if it means anything, i would be here every step of the way.” athena sounded genuine, her eyes shaped by sorrow. but never pity. that was one thing odysseus appreciated about her- even when he fell apart in front of her, even when she clearly was affected by his pain, she never pitied him. even towering a few feet above him, she didn't make him feel small.
“thanks for listening,” odysseus said weakly, giving her a slight smile. this wasn't the first time he'd shown her such a pathetic side of himself, and with the way things had been since his return, it wouldn't be the last. part of him felt ashamed, that was inevitable, but he also felt heard. if nothing else, athena would be there. “i know you will be.”
they left it unspoken, that there were indeed times that he needed her so, so desperately, and she wasn't there. but looking at her face now, he knew that those times were no more. if their bond could survive ten years of separation, he assumes she's stuck with him forever.
“i think your wife is waiting for you,” athena reminded him softly. “are you ready?”
“i can't. i wish i could, i just–”
“no, i didn't mean that. i just assume your bed is getting cold, and i’m sure penelope is already grieving you.” there's a spark of amusement in her eye.
“oh.” odysseus blinked at her, feeling a bit foolish. “yeah. you're right.”
“goodnight, odysseus.”
“goodnight, athena.”
when he slipped back into bed, he found penelope still awake, rolling over to greet him with nothing more than a warm, loving smile. odysseus returned it, face still tightened by stress. he carefully took her hand in his, intertwining their fingers, and focusing on the warm, slight roughness of her skin.
she closed her eyes first, still smiling, and he did the same.
even though part of his stress melted away with her company, the lingering weariness stayed in his stomach, and as he allowed himself to drift into sleep, he only prayed his dreams would take mercy on him this time.