Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Persephone wasn’t usually the type to get nervous. She had seen a whole hell of a lot in her time, pun intended, and there wasn’t much left that could phase her. Which made what was left feel even sillier, especially in this case. What kind of woman was anxious about seeing her husband again?

She shifted her bag from one hand to the other, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. Silly as it was, she couldn’t help but be nervous to see Hades again. They had done everything right this time around; she had left when she was supposed to, and he was coming to pick her up on time. Not too early, not too late. They’d even sent a couple letters back and forth, something she couldn’t remember doing for at least a hundred years. Even more surprising was that Hades had sent the first one, about a month after she left. He hadn’t written much, but Persephone could read between the lines. He was making an effort. Even when she wasn’t there with him.

So why was she still so wound up?

The long whistle of the train interrupted her thoughts, and she straightened up automatically, brushing her hair back again. The train slowed as it rolled up to the station, and Persephone took a deep breath. Calm down already. She’d done this countless times before. They’d all done this countless times before.

Hermes hopped off the train first, as always. He grinned at her as he went to take her luggage, as always. He paused as he picked the first bag up, though, giving her a look as he slung it over his shoulder.

“Travelling light this year, huh?” Hermes gave her a knowing look, and she struggled to keep her expression neutral. She should’ve expected this. Couldn’t get a damn thing past Hermes. 

“I prioritized a little differently this year, that's all.”

“Well, I’m glad you did. Havin’ a little less to weigh you down is always a good thing, right?” Hermes looked back over his shoulder towards the train, and Persephone followed his gaze, blinking when she realized that Hades was standing in the doorway. She forgot how quietly that man could move when he wanted to. Hermes glanced between them before slipping past Hades and onto the train, leaving them by themselves.

There was a long moment where they just looked at each other, before Hades cleared his throat and took a step forward. He was fidgeting just a little, scratching the side of his thumb with his forefinger.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Persephone smiled, unable to help it. She met him in the middle, reaching to take his hand. Hades went very still for a moment before he relaxed, bending to kiss the back of her hand. 

“I missed you,” he said softly, still holding her hand. How different to the way he’d said it last year. So little time, and so much was different. It made her heart ache in different ways all at once.

“I missed you, too.” Persephone moved her other hand up to cup his cheek, and he bent his head to let her. She smoothed his hair back gently, taking a good look at him. Hades looked tired, the bags under his eyes heavier than she remembered. When was the last time she had really looked at him? Certainly longer than the six months they’d been apart.

“Take me home, Hades?” She hadn’t meant it as a question, but it came out more tentatively than she intended. Trying to meet him in the middle without overstepping. A half-remembered dance.

Hades blinked, clearly surprised, but his expression softened. Persephone swore she saw some of the tension in his shoulders ease. Not all, but some.

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

---

The ride back down to Hadestown was different each year. Back when they were first married, they would barely make it into the train before they were all over each other. In more recent years, they were either at each other's throats or sitting in silence in seperate cars. This year was a new sort of tension.

They sat next to each other, close but not quite touching. Hades was quiet, as he tended to get when he was nervous. Persephone was chattering, as she tended to do when she was nervous. To his credit, though, he had started it off by asking how her summer had been. In the past years he hadn’t wanted to know anything that she had done outside of Hadestown, getting upset at the reminder that she wasn’t with him. Hades was trying, in his own way.

Persephone trailed off at the end of a story about the pests in her garden, glancing over at Hades again. She could tell he was paying attention, but she could also see his eyelids drooping. It took him a second to look back over at her, blinking to refocus. He opened his mouth, but Persephone put a hand to his face and he closed it again.

“Hades, you can rest if you’re tired, y’know,” she said gently. “We’ve got at least another hour of sittin’ on this train.” She didn’t say what she wanted to, that they had plenty of time together, because they both knew it wasn’t true. They were more than aware of the silent countdown behind their time together, especially now.

Hades sighed, letting his head rest against her palm. He didn’t quite look at her, but she could practically see the gears turning as he chose his words.

“...yeah. Just been busy, y’know.”

“I know.” Persephone did know. She’d seen Hades get caught up in his work countless times, sometimes forgetting to sleep until she came to drag him out of his office. Which she hadn’t bothered to do in years.

“You’re still provin’ my point, though. Ain’t busy right now, right? So c’mere.” She knew that what she was doing was risky, but she tugged on Hades’s shoulders all the same, pulling him to lay down against her. He tensed up at first, but slowly relaxed, letting her shift them both until his head was resting in her lap. Persephone stroked his hair, trying to smooth the creases in his brow. Hades closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling as he looked back up at her.

“...I missed you, Seph.” He said it so softly that she could barely hear it, but he did say it, and she did hear it. It had been a long time since he’d called her that, since he’d called her by any version of her name at all. Another step.

“I know, hon. I know.”

Chapter Text

When they arrived, Hades had to rush to a meeting, but promised to meet Persephone later for dinner. It was probably for the best, to give each other some space for a bit. Working on making up didn’t mean spending every minute of every day together.

Persephone ended up walking up to the house with Hermes, carrying her smallest bag while he helped with the larger ones. He kept shooting her little glances, and she sighed.

“I know what you’re gonna say, so say it.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my lady,” he chuckled, but a firm look from Persephone silenced him, and he hefted her bag higher up on his shoulder.

“I’m just surprised, that’s all. This is the lightest load you’ve brought here in decades.” Hermes shook her bag a little for effect, the usual clinking of glass absent.

Persephone couldn’t look at him, keeping her gaze on the path ahead. “And?”

“And I can’t remember the last time I saw you sober so long. It suits you, bein’ able to string a sentence together.”

Persephone’s face reddened a little. “C’mon, I was never that bad!” That earned her a look from Hermes, and after a moment she sighed. “Yeah, okay, I got messy. I know I got messy. But I’m tryin’, alright? Give me a break.”

“You think I’m tryin’ to give you a hard time? I’m serious, Seph, I’m proud of you. Come a long way in six months.” Hermes paused for a moment. “I’d say you both have.”

“What?” It took her a moment to realize what he meant. “Oh, I don’t know. I mean, it’s better, but it was only a train ride. That’s just a start--”

“I wasn’t talkin’ about a train ride. Look at you--you’ve still got your coat on.”

“What’s my coat got to do with anything? It’s cold out--oh.” Persephone paused, taking a moment to really look around. The city wasn’t dark by any means, still lit by street lamps and signs, but the neon wasn’t blinding. She didn’t have to squint looking around, the ambient light more comfortable. The forges didn’t seem to emit as much heat, either, glowing softer than she had seen before. Hermes was right--it was still cool enough to wear her coat.

“Oh.” Persephone didn’t know what else to say, still staring. 

“Like I said,” Hermes chuckled, “I’d say you’ve both come a long way.”

---

Hermes let her be once she got to the house, which suited Persephone just fine. She still needed to figure out which room she was taking before she started unpacking. Which was a harder question than it should’ve been.

Way back when, she and Hades had shared a bedroom, because of course they had. Why wouldn’t they, back then? As time went on, Hades all but abandoned their bedroom for his office, and Persephone retaliated by claiming one of the guest rooms on the opposite end of the house. The master bedroom they’d once shared had gone unused for decades. 

Standing in the doorway of that room now, Persephone hesitated. It felt wrong, going back in there by herself. Was she being presumptuous? Would Hades even want to be back in this room, much less share it with her? All she could see was the dust that coated the surfaces, the way the curtains had faded, the pillow in the corner where it had been thrown during the heat of a fight. It was too much.

She turned away, making the long walk to the room she had chosen all those years ago. Still, Persephone hesitated. It didn’t feel right here, either. Even after six months, she could smell the booze that stained the rug next to her armchair. She had made this room into a cell, a place to exist while she drank her days away, and she didn’t want to go back to that. They were trying again this time. She had to try.

Persephone shut the door behind her, and ended up retracing her steps to the main wing of the house. There were plenty of unused rooms around here. She was sure that she could find one that would work.

It took some wandering (and some swearing about the size of the damn house, what the hell had Hades been thinking, they didn’t need all these empty rooms), but Persephone ended up settling in a bedroom down the hall from Hades’s office. It was big enough for the both of them, if they both wanted to be there, and close to the center of the house. No more running and hiding.

Persephone surveyed the space once she was done unpacking, hands on her hips as she looked around. Curtains open, bed made with clean linens, and a few of her trinkets lined up on the dresser. This would work.

Chapter Text

The streetlamps were dimmer by the time Persephone left the house to head to the main office. Hades had an office in the house, of course, but the main office building was housed next to the largest factories. It made it easier for him to keep an eye on everything, and it meant that there was less paperwork cluttering up the house, something Persephone had always been opposed to. She tucked her coat around herself as she walked, heels clacking on the bricks as she made her way to the center of town. It wasn’t as cold as winter up top, but there was a chill in the air that she hadn’t felt in a long time. She had never particularly liked the cold, but it was definitely an improvement to burning up down here all the time. 

Even the workers that she passed as she walked by looked different. She got a few nods in greeting, and even a couple smiles. The folks down here didn’t seem quite as downtrodden as they had the previous winter. Still working, yes, but not as defeated. She was able to get to the office building pretty quickly, and let herself in. No one would question why she was there, even if she hadn’t been in decades.

Persephone frowned as she walked down the hall towards the double doors of Hades’ office. The door was closed, but she could hear muffled voices coming from inside. That was never a good sign. She could tell from the pitch of her husband’s voice that he was pissed. What kind of meeting was he in that had him sounding like that?

The door opened, and Persephone stopped in her tracks. What the--

“Get outta my office,” Hades snapped from inside, and the young girl that had opened the door rolled her eyes.

“What d’ya think I’m doin’?” Eurydice retorted over her shoulder. 

“And I want those reports by Thursday mornin’, young lady, no later.” His voice was a low warning, but Eurydice didn’t seem bothered. If anything, she seemed as annoyed as Hades sounded.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m on it. Go get ready for your date, old man.” The girl actually rolled her eyes as she turned to go, and Persephone could only stare. Eurydice looked different to when she’d last seen her. Cleaner, dressed in a collared shirt and slacks under her old coat, and with a spark behind her eyes that had been missing last winter. 

Eurydice shook her head as she walked out of the office, but stopped when she saw Persephone standing there, blinking. “Oh--good evenin’, ma’am.”

“Uh, hi.” Very eloquent, Persephone thought to herself. Great first impression after everything they’d been through last year. “What are you doin’ here?”

“Oh! Well, Boss finally realized that he can’t run everything on his own, and I’m good with numbers.” Eurydice patted the folder tucked under her arm. “So I’ve been helpin’ out.”

Hades moved to lean in the open doorway, arms folded. “You still here, girl? You’ve got work to do.” He gave Eurydice a look, but Persephone knew him well enough to see the fondness behind his glare. Seemed like the two of them had gotten close over the summer. Persephone didn’t expect the thought to make her uneasy, but it did.

“Alright, alright. Y’all have fun!” Eurydice was unfazed by the look Hades was still giving her, grinning at them both before she flitted down the hall. Persephone watched her go, then turned back to Hades. 

Her expression must’ve said something, because he sighed and shook his head. “Girl’s a pain in my ass, but she is clever.”

“Yeah?” Persephone followed him back into the office with a frown, watching as he went to organize the papers on his desk. “Said she’s helpin’ you out. How’d that happen?”

Hades paused, looking at her for a long moment. She could tell he was trying to figure out her tone, and kept her expression as neutral as possible. Not neutral enough, judging by the way he tensed.

“Like I said, the girl’s clever. After, ah--” He hesitated, going back to fussing with his paperwork. Keeping his hands busy to hide his nerves, like he always did. “Well, after everything that happened, she got back here and started talkin’. Came to me a week or so later with a list of demands from the workers, callin’ herself a representative. Told me I owed it to her to hear her out. So I did.” Hades shrugged, setting down a stack of papers with an air of finality. “The rest followed from there.”

He made it sound like it wasn’t a big deal, but Persephone knew better than that. He’d been civil with Eurydice when she brought demands from the workers, and had actually listened. Not to mention that he hadn’t scared the girl away in six months. Even talking about her now, she could tell that Hades wasn’t truly upset. Exasperated, sure, but in the same way he got when one of the dogs chewed up the carpet.

“Right. Well, I’m glad it’s workin’ out.” Persephone didn’t know what else to say to that. She could tell there was more to it, but Hades didn’t seem like he wanted to get into everything right now. To be honest, she didn’t either. They would have time to discuss it, and they would have to eventually, but it felt too soon. So she let it drop. “You ready to go, then?”

Hades’ shoulders relaxed a little, and he nodded, coming back out from behind his desk. “Yeah, that should be it for tonight. Just give me a sec’ to lock up.”

Persephone obliged, waiting outside as Hades checked his filing cabinets and grabbed his briefcase. After a moment he joined her, locking the door behind him. 

He paused before tentatively offering her his arm. “All set?”

Persephone took it, giving him a small smile. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Text

The two of them opted to head back to the house for the evening instead of going out somewhere. However well he tried to hide it, Persephone could tell that Hades was tense, and he didn’t much care for going out on a good day. He had a prickly sort of energy about him, a nervousness that he would never admit to manifesting in little twitches of his hands and clearing of his throat. Persephone tried not to dwell on the fact that she was probably the reason he was worked up in the first place. It was fine, right? Probably to be expected. Normally by this point she and Hades would’ve had at least one shouting match, not to mention that she’d be wasted. She couldn’t blame him for being a little on edge. Which was why they were going to have a quiet night in. No other people to worry about, no eyes on them. They could just be together, and figure out what being together looked like now.

They were still arm in arm, just turning off from the main road to head up the cobblestone path to the house, when a noise behind them made Persephone pause. It almost sounded like footsteps? But not quite, and much too fast--

She turned just in time for Cerberus to slam into her legs with a happy bark, nearly knocking her down. It was only her grip on Hades’s arm that kept her upright, and she huffed as she stumbled. Hades moved with her, swearing under his breath. He used his free arm to steady her as he glared at the dog.

“Get down!” Hades snapped, voice low, but Cerberus just barked again, his entire body wiggling as he tried to lick Persephone’s hands. The dog was bigger than she remembered him being, but she hadn’t actually seen him in a while. During the day he was always guarding that damn wall, and when he was home with Hades in the evenings she usually wasn’t.

“Aw, poor baby, I know you didn’t mean it,” she crooned, kneeling down to scratch behind his ears. “I missed you too.” Cerberus licked the side of her face, snuffling at her hair, and she chuckled. Poor thing was probably lonely. It had been far too long since she’d spent any quality time with him. She let him sniff wherever he could, stroking his head. 

“You spoil him,” Hades grumbled, arms folded as he looked down at them. Cerberus huffed at him, tail smacking Hades’s shin as it wagged. 

“I do not,” Persephone protested, straightening back up and brushing herself off. Her skirts were a little muddied where Cerberus had jumped on her, but she had never minded a little dirt. “He’s a dog, Hades, he’s just excited! Right, baby?” Cerberus huffed, nosing her hand and running in a circle around them. 

Hades raised a brow, unconvinced, but his expression was soft. “Still, he oughta know better than to go jumpin’ on you. You hear me, Cerberus? Behave,” he warned, his tone harsh. Cerberus looked at him for a second before licking his hand.

“He didn’t mean nothin’ by it,” Persephone chuckled, taking Hades’s hand. Her tone changed as she looked at Cerberus, grinning. “C’mon, baby, let's go home! You wanna go home?” He barked, running in another circle around them before bolting up the path to the house. “See, he’s fine.”

Hades shook his head, but there was a faint smile on his face as they started walking again. “Guess you’re right.”

---

It took longer than it should’ve to get Cerberus settled down again, in part because Persephone kept sneaking him treats. She couldn’t help it! He kept coming over to rest his head on her knee and stare at her, and how was she supposed to say no to that? Hades clearly saw what she was doing, but let it be. Neither of them were in the mood for an argument.

Persephone was honestly surprised that it was going alright. In recent years, they'd have blown up at each other by now. All time alone made Hades prickly and quiet, and the alcohol made Persephone angry and loud. Come to think of it, she’d been the one doing most of the shouting when they fought. Hm. Not great. Whatever, self reflection could come later. They did have to talk about something, though. They couldn’t put everything off forever. She didn’t want to shove everything under the rug again. Find a way to start small.

“Looks a little quieter ‘round town nowadays,” she commented, glancing over at Hades. They were seated on the sofa together, closer than they’d been in a long time, with Cerberus flopped on the rug nearby. She was sipping at a glass of water in lieu of something stronger, which Hades had surely noticed but not commented on.

Hades glanced over at her, making a noncommittal noise. Seeing the look on her face, though, he elaborated. “Yeah. Was runnin’ the numbers, an’ it worked out that we could afford to downsize. Spread the workers less thin, too.” 

Persephone looked over at him, trying to decipher his expression. He was scratching at the side of his thumb again. She laid her hand over his, gently, and he paused.

“I’m glad. ‘Bout time it slowed down a little down here.” She smoothed over the redness on his thumb with her own, lacing their fingers together. She gave his hand a small squeeze, and after a moment he squeezed back.

“I s’pose it is,” he said softly, looking down at their hands. Persephone took a chance and scooted to lean against his side, resting her head on his shoulder. She could feel him sigh, and his hand tightened on hers.

They stayed like that for a long moment. Hand in hand, just being together. Why had they ever stopped? This was the easiest thing in the world, as natural as breathing. They’d been married for a lifetime, an eternity. How had they forgotten this? 

Well, when Persephone thought about it, she did know how. Things had decayed as they always did, bit by bit. They got comfortable, and it all happened so slowly at first she hadn’t thought anything of it. By the time things got to a breaking point, Persephone hadn’t cared anymore. She ranted and raved and wallowed in her hurt feelings without paying any attention to the man she blamed them on. But that was then, and this was now. It was different now. They were gonna make it different.

“I missed you, Hades.” Persephone tilted her head to look up at him, still leaning against him. “I--I’m sorry, hon.” She couldn’t see much of his face, but she could see his expression tighten. 

Hades exhaled, his chin dropping towards his chest. “...’m sorry, too.” He didn’t say anything else, but Persephone squeezed his hand again. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d properly apologized for something, even before it all went to hell. He was proud, her husband, and he spoke more with actions than words. But he was trying.

“I know.” She sat up, patting Hades’s hand before letting it go to stand. “C’mon, then. I’m tired.” Hades stared at her, and she could see the gears turning as he tried to process what she was saying. For someone so smart, he could be so stupid.

“Hades. We’ve had a long day, and I’m tired of sleepin’ alone. So, c’mon. I made up a room upstairs--if you want, I mean.” It was possible that she was just moving too fast. Was she? Shit.

Persephone offered her hand to help him up. Hades blinked, but nodded, taking her hand and standing stiffly. Cerberus looked between the two of them, tail thumping as he followed them upstairs. Hades started to turn down the hall to the opposite end of the house, but Persephone shook her head.

“I, uh, set up in a different room this year. Figured it’d be easier.” She didn’t specify why it was easier, trusting that he would understand. From the look on his face, he did. 

Hades’s expression shifted when she opened the door, pausing in the doorway. Cerberus pushed past him, barking happily and sniffing around the room. Persephone glanced around, trying to take in what he was staring at. She didn’t really get it. It was plainer than a lot of rooms in the house, but she had put a few dried flowers in a vase on the dresser and hung her favorite curtains.

She gave Hades a questioning look, but he just shook his head. He’d apparently reached his vulnerability quota for the evening. Her first instinct was to pry, to try to dig at whatever he was leaving unsaid, but she bit it back. He would talk when he wanted to. 

Hades was quiet for the rest of the evening as they got ready for bed. He laid down stiffly on the right side of the bed, closest to the window. It made Persephone smile, that he still remembered she preferred to sleep nearest to the door. Cerberus, who knew better than to get into bed with them, settled himself on the floor near the doorway as Persephone got into bed.

“...g’night, honey.” She hesitated for a moment before touching Hades’s shoulder. He looked back at her, expression softening. 

“G’night, Seph.”

Chapter Text

Persephone could feel in her bones that it was too early when she woke up. She squinted around the room, trying to figure out what time it was. The sun wasn’t even up yet--no, wait. She wasn’t up top. There would be no sunrise. Was that what felt so strange? 

It took her longer than it should’ve to realize she wasn’t in bed alone. Hades was beside her, flat on his back and as close to the edge of the bed as he could get without falling off. He was snoring softly, and it almost made her smile as she remembered the teasing arguments they had about his snoring.

She shifted to face him, watching his chest rise and fall. It was rare for Hades to still be in bed when she woke up, even when they were on good terms. Her husband had always been a busy man. Even in sleep he looked tense, a little furrow in his brow that never seemed to fade. Persephone thought about reaching out to smooth it, but hesitated. He'd always been a light sleeper, and she didn’t want to have a conversation right now if he woke up. So she just watched him. When was the last time they had been this close without fighting? She couldn’t even guess. There were lines etched on Hades’s face that she didn’t remember, and the circles under his eyes were darker than they’d been in years past. Persephone was sure she didn’t look her best either, but it still sent a twinge of guilt through her. They weren’t getting any younger, and fighting with each other all the damn time hadn’t helped.

Persephone stayed like that for a while, matching her breathing to his. She still didn’t touch him, but her gaze wandered down to the bricks that covered his arm. The neat rows were still there, but something seemed off about them. Had they always been that faded? She didn’t remember--she usually tried not to look at his tattoos. They did seem different, though. She thought she saw cracks running through the bricks higher up on his arm, but she couldn’t be certain, and she didn’t want to move his sleeve to check.

It was Cerberus who broke the silence, coming to the side of the bed and resting his chin on it with a little huff. Persephone tried to stop him, but he was already nosing at Hades’s hands, licking his fingers. 

Hades grumbled, eyes still closed, but reached to scratch behind Cerberus’s ears. “Alright, alright, gimmie a minute.” His voice was always lower in the morning, the drawl more pronounced. It had been a while since Persephone had heard it, and her expression softened. She had missed this more than she realized. She thought about shutting her eyes and pretending to be asleep, but Hades was too perceptive for that. He had already glanced over at her, blinking in surprise when he saw she was awake. She wasn’t known for being an early riser.

“Good morning.” Persephone sat up, brushing her unkempt curls back from her face. Hades was still looking at her, his expression unreadable, until Cerberus started licking his fingers again.

“Mornin’--will you quit that,” he huffed, pushing the dogs face away and moving to stand. “He wants to go out. ‘S late for him.” It was with some difficulty that Hades stood, Persephone noticed. Her gaze lingered on his stiff movements and the way that he grasped at the nightstand for balance. 

She frowned, making a mental note, but chose not to comment as Hades slung his coat on over his pajamas. “Right. I’ll put coffee on, if you’re gonna take him out?”

Hades glanced back at her, tucking his coat around himself as Cerberus pranched around his feet. “Uh, sure, if y’ want. Don’t have to, though.” He was never good at full sentences in the mornings, either. Most people who knew Hades knew not to try and hold a conversation until his second cup of coffee.

“I know. I want to. Could use a cup myself, anyways.” Persephone had always preferred tea, but early in the morning she welcomed the hit of caffeine from Hades’s too-strong coffee. Cerberus was hovering by the door, his tail smacking into the doorframe as it wagged, and she chuckled. “But I think you’d better take him out, Hades.”

Hades blinked again when she said his name, turning back to the dog. “Right--c’mon, then. Lets go.” 

Cerberus barked at him, sprinting down the stairs as Hades followed with a grumble. Persephone smiled, listening to the clicking of the dog's nails and the heavy footsteps of her husband following behind until they were too far for her to hear.

She took her time getting up, knowing that Cerberus was probably dragging Hades all over town as punishment for his walk being late. That dog loved routine almost as much as his owner did. When she did make her way down to the kitchen, it took her a minute to find their old coffeemaker. Hades had a newer model in his office, and from the looks of things he hadn’t bothered to use this one in years. Neither of them had, Persephone corrected herself. She had to stop framing everything as his doing. She had just as much a hand in this as he did, as much as she hated to admit it.

Despite everything, it looked like the worn machine still worked. It had been a wedding present, from such a long time ago that Persephone wasn’t sure who had given it to them. She was fairly sure it had been Hermes, the gift accompanied with a joke about giving them a pep in their step. She would have to ask him. If it wasn’t Hermes, he would remember who it had actually been. 

The text on the buttons had rubbed off over the years, but turning it on and getting the coffee brewing was something Persephone could do with her eyes closed. She let the muscle memory guide her, humming under her breath as the machine gurgled. By the time Cerberus bounded into the kitchen, barking at her, she had two mugs on the table.

“Did you have a good walk?” Persephone crooned at him, rubbing behind his ears. Cerberus sniffed at her hands before he settled down next to her seat, tail thumping on the floor. Hades wasn’t far behind him, shrugging his coat off to hang on the back of his chair. He sat down heavily, exhaling. He still seemed stiff, but not as bad as when he’d first gotten up.

“Thanks, Seph.” He picked up the mug closest to him, but moved to set it down after he looked into it.

“You’re welcome. And that one’s yours.” Persephone picked up her own mug and took a sip to hide her smile. She knew why Hades had paused. He was known for taking his coffee black, but Persephone knew that he preferred it with cream and sugar. He just didn’t like to fuss with it, so he didn’t usually bother. Whenever she fixed him a cup, though, she took the time to make it the way he actually enjoyed it. 

The look they exchanged said as much, and Hades dropped his gaze as he picked his mug back up. “...thanks.”

Chapter Text

The shaky calm between Persephone and Hades continued as the days went on. The first few days were awkward, sure, but they smoothed out into a familiar rhythm. It had been a long time since they’d actually tried to coexist, but the routine came back quicker than Persephone thought it would. 

A week had gone by before she got up the nerve to go back to her speakeasy. Persephone had tried telling herself that there was no reason to go back there. She was trying to stay sober, after all, and the workers had better conditions anyways. They probably wouldn’t need to drown their sorrows any more than she did. She knew the real reason she was putting it off, though. She didn’t want to try and explain herself to Hades. Her speakeasy had been her dirty little secret for decades, but this year she’d sobered up enough to feel bad about it. It had never been about helping the workers, not really. It was a place for her to hide, a place for her to forget herself and her problems. Which was counterproductive to trying to fix things.

Still, she wanted to at least check up on the place. It had been her pride and joy for too many years for her to let it go that easily. Persephone waited for an evening that Hades was staying late in the office before she went downtown, and was surprised to see the lights on in the bar as she approached. There was no way she’d left them on the whole time she was gone, right? Even she wasn’t that absentminded. She could hear the hum of conversation as she approached, and she frowned, turning to head in the back entrance. It was still locked, and only she had the keys. She made her way through the back room, wary, until she could peer through the doorway behind the counter.

The bar was filled with a hum of conversation, laughter cutting through the noise as Persephone stared.

Seated at the bar was none other than Hermes, who shot her a grin when he saw her. “About time, sister! We’ve been waitin’ on ya’, isn’t that right?” The other patrons made varying noises of agreement, some raising their glasses to her. 

“Waitin’ on me? For what?” Persephone moved behind the counter proper, leaning on it. She tried to act nonchalant, but glanced at Hermes in confusion. “What, you takin’ over my bar now?”

“Course not,” he snorted, spinning on his stool to face her. “Figured you’d show up sooner or later. I was just keeping things runnin’ for you in the meantime. Somebody had to.” His tone wasn’t accusatory, but Persephone scowled at him. She smoothed her expression when a couple of the workers looked at her strangely, smiling.

“Right. So, what, you’re just lookin’ out for me?” She raised a brow at him, skeptical. “I know you ain’t doin’ this out of the kindness of your heart.”

Hermes shrugged, taking a drink. “It’s not just for you. It’s for all of them.” He gestured across the bar with a wave of his hand. “These folks need this place, Seph, and we both know it. Your man knows it, too.”

It took her a second to process what Hermes had said, but she made a choking noise when she did. Persephone stared at him, her blood running cold. “You--you told Hades?!”

“I didn’t have to.” He rolled his eyes, not reacting to her obvious distress. “C’mon, now, even you have to give him more credit than that. Hades ain’t stupid, sister. You ever wonder why he didn’t question where you came from when you were stumblin’ home, three sheets to the wind?” Hermes patted her hand where it was clenching the edge of the counter. “Nah, he figured it out years ago. Came and asked me about it, as a matter of fact. Told him to leave you be or talk to you himself, but I wasn’t gonna be his messenger boy. Guess what he picked.”

“He knew? This whole time?” That didn’t make any sense. If Hades had known what she was doing here, he would’ve shut it down. End of story. The whole damn town knew that. Hermes nodded, though, grinning like he knew something she didn’t. Persephone grit her teeth, resisting the urge to smack the smile off his face. “Then why didn’t he do anything about it?”

“Because it made you happy,” Hermes said simply. 

“The hell do you mean, because it made me happy,” she repeated, her grip on the counter tightening. 

Hermes let out a sigh, draining the rest of his drink before he fixed his gaze on her. “I swear, y’all are hopeless. Let that go before you make a dent in it.” Persephone bristled, but she did loosen her hold, drumming her fingers on the countertop instead as he continued.

“You love him, right? Even when y’all were at your worst, when you two were ready to tear the damn city apart, you never stopped caring about your man.” Persephone opened her mouth to say something, but decided against it when he gave her a look. Hermes nodded, folding his arms as he continued. “So, why’s it such a stretch to think he’d feel the same? He never stopped caring about you, Seph. Your little hole in the wall here was a reason you kept comin’ back every year. Even if it made his life harder, he wasn’t gonna mess with that.”

Persephone was speechless, trying to put together the pieces of what he was saying. “I never thought of it like that.” It was a lame response, but she didn’t know what else to say, her mind reeling.

“I know.” Hermes’s expression softened, and he gave her hand a squeeze. “It’s like I said. Hades ain’t stupid, and you aren’t either. Y’all just get caught up in yourselves. You’re both stubborn as hell, you know that?”

Persephone managed a laugh, running a hand through her hair. “So I’ve been told.” She paused before giving Hermes’s hand a squeeze in return. “Thanks. For tellin’ me, I mean.” She had a lot to think about.

“Of course. Dunno what you’d do without me,” he added with a smirk. “Y’all would have to find an actual marriage counselor willin’ to put up with your shit.”

“Aw, c’mon, don’t sell yourself short. You’re probably more than qualified at this point,” Persephone chuckled. 

Hermes laughed, too. “Suppose you’re right. Which means you oughta figure out a way to compensate me for my time. Get me another drink?” He held his empty glass out, raising a brow. 

Persephone shook her head, but she was smiling as she refilled it for him. “Alright, alright.” She set his glass down, pausing for a moment before she came out from behind the counter to sit down next to him. “You can drink on the house for as long as you can stand my company. Deal?”

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

Persephone stayed at the bar later than she intended to. It wasn’t her fault, really! She just got caught up a little bit. She hadn’t spent any real time with the workers since she got back, and she had forgotten how much fun it was. And she may or may not have had a drink or two. Maybe more than two. It was nothing strong, not really, especially with her tolerance. The folks at the bar had wanted to toast with her, and who was she to deny that, right? 

She was nursing another glass of wine when Hermes slid into the seat next to her, plucking it out of her hands and draining it himself before she had a chance to protest. Persephone made an indignant noise, but stopped at the look he gave her.

“Trust me, sister, you’ll be thankin’ me later.” Hermes kept the now empty glass, smacking lightly at her hand when she reached for it. “I’m serious, Seph. Don’t.”

“C’mon, you think I can’t handle a glass of wine?” Persephone scoffed, leaning forward against the bartop. She was feeling a little buzz in the back of her head, a comfortable warmth, and smiled. She had missed this more than she thought. “You know who you’re talkin’ to, right?”

“Yes, I do. Which is why I’m not lettin’ you have any more.” Hermes’ tone was stern, but Persephone rolled her eyes. She was fine! She’d been much worse than this before, and came out just fine. Well, mostly fine. Whatever. She didn’t realize that Hermes was still talking until he bumped her shoulder.

“You listenin’ to me? I think it’s time for you to go home, Persephone.” He all but pulled her to her feet, linking his arm with hers and steering her behind the counter. She stumbled a little as he pulled her along, swaying on her feet. Whoooo okay maybe she was a little more buzzed than she thought. Hermes was more irritated than he was letting on, too, if he was using her full name. Felt like being in trouble with her mama again. Ugh.

“Message received, geez.” Persephone pulled away from Hermes once he had dragged her to the back door, straightening up with an irritated noise. She didn’t like the look Hermes was giving her, a mix of frustration and pity and something else she couldn’t place. Whatever it was, it was pissing her off. “I’ll go home. Even though I’m fine.”

“Sure, sure.” It was obvious that Hermes didn’t believe her, and she scowled at his placating tone. He ignored her expression, keeping his voice neutral as he continued. “I’ll close up here. Call me in the morning, a’ight?”

“Fine,” she huffed, turning on her heel and pausing a moment as her head spun. Okay, had  to go slower than that. That was fine.

Walking through the cobblestone streets to get back up to the house was a little less fine. Persephone had built up her alcohol tolerance over the years, but being sober for over six months had lowered it more than she expected. Still, she had made it back to the house much drunker than this before, and in higher heels. It was kind of nice, really. The low droning of the streetlights mixed with the buzzing in the back of her head made her smile. Sure, she had to pay a little more attention to where she was stepping, but that was worth it. Why had she stopped drinking in the first place? Sure, getting wasted wasn’t great, but a little bit like this was wonderful. 

Cerberus was waiting at the gate to the house, wagging his tail and nosing at her hands. Persephone chuckled, scratching behind his ears. 

“Hi, baby boy. Awww, were you waitin’ for me?” she crooned, bending down to let him kiss her face. She swayed a little, but leaned heavily on Cerberus to steady herself as he snuffled her hair. “Poor thing, is your daddy still out?” 

Cerberus whined, nosing at her insistently to nudge her towards the house. Persephone laughed, but kept a hand on his back to lean on him.

“Alright, alright, I’m comin’. Did you miss your dinner, honey?” Persephone checked his bowl in the kitchen once they were inside, but Cerberus still had food. Hades must have dropped by at some point to feed him before heading back to the office. She vaguely remembered him explaining why he had to work in the main building instead of at home tonight, but the details were fuzzy. Whatever. The reason didn’t matter much, when it came down to it. Hades wasn’t here.

“That’s fine,” she said out loud, wandering back into the front room. “We’re fine, right Cerberus? Who needs him.” Cerberus was following at her heels, and bumped his head into her hip with a huffing sound. To Persephone it sounded disapproving, and she sighed.

“Alright, I know. That ain’t fair.” Persephone flopped down on the couch, throwing an arm over her eyes. “I know he can’t help havin’ to work.” She reached out her free hand to give Cerberus a clumsy pat. “But you know what I mean, right?”

There wasn’t enough room on the couch for Cerberus to jump up with her, big as he was, but he settled down on the floor next to her and licked her hand. Persephone hummed, letting her hand rest on his back.

---

The next thing Persephone was aware of was the sound of the door closing, and heavy footsteps in the entryway. Her head was still buzzing, and she squeezed her eyes shut, arm still over her face. Had she fallen asleep? Ugh. She felt Cerberus move under her other arm, the clicking of his nails echoing down the hall as he ran for the front door. She could hear her husband's low voice rumbling in response, though she couldn’t make out what he was saying. She didn’t put effort into trying to figure it out, letting her mind drift. This couch was comfortable. Why didn’t she lay down here more often? Hm. Something to think about. She didn’t think about it for long, though, before Cerberus padded back into the room and shoved his nose against her hand. What did he want now? Silly dog. 

“Hi, baby,” she hummed as she patted his head. Persephone shifted her arm, cracking an eye open to look at the dog, and saw that Hades was standing behind him in the doorway. He was staring at her, the look on his face familiar and confusing all at once. Something about it made her stomach twist, even though she couldn’t place it. 

“Hades? You alright, hon?” Persephone frowned at him, shifting onto her side to look at him properly. Hades was still in the doorway, and she could practically see the gears turning in his head, assessing the situation. Why was he looking at her like that? 

“I’m fine,” Hades said slowly after a moment, expression guarded. “Are you?”

“What?” Persephone’s brow furrowed in confusion. “‘Course I am. Just fell asleep, that’s all. Didn’t mean to.” She stretched out before pulling herself up to a seated position, head swimming at the motion. Hades made a noncommittal noise, still watching her carefully. 

Persephone frowned, squinting at him. “Why do you keep lookin’ at me like that? You look like...I dunno. Somethin’.” Hades shifted, avoiding her gaze, and her frown deepened. “Hades.”

He glanced back at her, exhaling. “...it’s nothin’, Seph. Just tired. Oughta get to bed.” Hades did look tired, but that wasn’t unusual for him. She had the feeling there was more to it than that, but she couldn’t quite piece together what it might be. Persephone studied his expression for a moment before giving up. If he didn’t want to talk to her about what was bothering him, fine.

“M’kay.” She stood up from the couch, wobbling a little but keeping her balance. Her head hurt more than it had when she’d first gotten home, and she stifled a wince. Damn. She’d almost forgotten about that lovely side effect of drinking. “Let’s go, then.”

Something like surprise flickered across Hades’s face, but he didn’t say anything. He just offered her his arm, helping her get up the stairs and into bed. Persephone was out when her head hit the pillow, her head still pounding. At least it would be better in the morning.

Chapter Text

Persephone had a nasty headache by the time she woke up, the events of the night before swimming in and out of her mind. This was part of the reason she’d stopped drinking, damn it--

Wait. Oh, shit. She’d been drinking. She sat up too fast, catching herself on the side of the bed. She was alone, but she could remember Hades helping her stumbling ass up the stairs the night before. Had he stayed, or was he gone as soon as she was safely in bed? She had no idea. The look on his face from the night before flashed across her mind, and Persephone winced, finally understanding why. He had come home to her sleeping on the couch, obviously drunk, after he’d been out working late. No wonder he’d been so tense. She didn’t blame him, after everything she’d said to that man when she was drunk.

Shit.

Forcing herself to get out of bed, Persephone finally noticed the glass of water left on the nightstand. A look through the drawers turned up a bottle of painkillers, although not the kind she usually took. Were they Hades’s? Regardless, she took a couple, carefully putting the bottle back where she’d found it. She downed half the glass taking the pills, and nearly choked on it. The water was ice cold, which she hadn’t been expecting. If Hades--or one of the staff, but why would she even think that, it had to have been Hades--had left it there the night before, it would’ve been lukewarm at best by now. So, he had been by in the morning to check on her. She wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one. Either way, she desperately needed a cup of coffee.

Persephone got their old coffeemaker chugging along, sitting down to wait. She had noticed that Hades’s coat was still on it’s hook by the front door, which meant he was working from home. Either that or he was so out of sorts that he’d gone into town without his coat. Somehow she doubted that. In all their years, Persephone had rarely seen him without that coat outside of the house, even when it was hot as summer from the furnaces. She still wasn’t sure if that was a good sign or a bad one, though. There were plenty of reasons that her husband could’ve had to work from home today. If Hades was mad enough, or upset enough, he tended to lock himself away from everything, and after her stunt the night before it was a possibility.

The coffeemaker’s gurgling came to a stop, and she hesitated before getting two mugs out of the cabinet. She was going to have to face him sooner or later, Persephone reminded herself. No more running from all their problems. Or, in this case, her own mistake. All things considered, Hades could’ve reacted much worse. Would’ve been well within his rights to storm out, or leave her on that couch. But he was trying. 

She chugged half her mug before refilling it and fixing one for Hades, heading back upstairs. His office door was cracked open, a definite good sign, and she tapped on it before pushing it open.

She saw Cerberus first. He flopped next to Hades’s desk, sprawled on the fancy cushion that Hades had pretended was unnecessary when Persephone first gave it to him. He didn’t get up when she entered, but his tail started thumping on the ground. Hades was, predictably, behind his desk. He was surrounded by stacks of paperwork, barely visible through the piles that Persephone was sure were meticulously arranged, but he had carved out a workspace for himself. He was hunched over, scribbling away at some contract or another and muttering to himself. Persephone cleared her throat, but didn’t approach.

That was enough to get Hades to look up, scowling. He opened his mouth, clearly about to tell her off for interrupting him, but closed it after a second. His expression shifted to something more controlled, and he glanced back at his paperwork, gears turning. 

“Thought you were someone else,” he mumbled. It was as close to an apology as she was likely to get, so Persephone just nodded.

“‘S okay. I made coffee,” she offered, holding up his cup. Hades eyed her for a moment before he nodded, shuffling some papers off to the side to give her someplace to set it down. It stung more than she expected, to see her husband so wary around her again, but she couldn’t blame him. 

Persephone lingered next to him, willing him to meet her gaze. “You got a second?”

He hesitated, but set his pen down, picking up his mug instead. Hades didn’t say anything, but inclined his head towards her, a gesture she was all too familiar with. 

“Listen, I--I’m sorry.” For all that she had wanted him to make eye contact, she was struggling with it now, looking at the mug in his hands instead. “I shouldn’t have--I was stupid. Last night, I mean. ‘M sorry you had to come home to me like that.” The ‘again’ was left unspoken. Hades was silent for a long time, long enough that she looked up at his face to try and see what he was thinking. His expression was that same careful neutral, only the tightness around his eyes betraying his thoughts. For the life of her, Persephone didn’t know what he was thinking. So she waited.

His voice was rough when he finally spoke. “Are you...unhappy, Seph?” The ‘again’ hung over them both, heavier than before.

“What? No, I--” Persephone started to protest, but stopped as she realized what this must look like to her husband. He had to spend an evening at the office, and she had immediately run off to her speakeasy. Hades always could find a way to blame himself for things. 

“No, no, it’s nothin’ like that. I just went to check up on things at the bar.” Persephone could see the way his jaw tightened as he realized that she’d found out he knew about her little secret, so she hurried on. “I got carried away, that’s all. One thing led to another, and I got stupid.” It was easier to stay on the wagon when there was nowhere else to go. Especially when she was stuck with her mother. Demeter had known that she was trying to dry out, and didn’t drink herself, which made availability a real issue up top. 

Hades hummed into his coffee, still eyeing her with that same look. She exhaled, setting her mug down to put her hands on his shoulders. “Hades. It ain’t because of you, or us, or anythin’ like that. I didn’t even mean to, y’know--I just got carried away. Won’t happen again. At least, I’ll try not to let it,” she amended. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.

“Besides, I forgot how bad hangovers can get. Definitely ain’t worth it,” she joked, trying to lighten the mood. He huffed out a chuckle, the creases around his eyes smoothing. His jaw was still tight, but Persephone didn’t really blame him for not taking her entirely at her word.

“...alright. Alright,” he repeated, mostly to himself. Persephone leaned down, bumping her forehead against his.

“Alright,” she agreed, feeling him chuckle again.

Chapter Text

When Hades had to get back to work, Persephone walked back down to the speakeasy. She’d actually told her husband where she was headed this time, and brought Cerberus along for some exercise. Hades wasn’t thrilled that she was going back down there so soon, but she knew she had to check in with Hermes before he came banging on their door. Part of it was that he was just nosy, sure, but underneath that Persephone knew he was genuinely concerned. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone. Hermes wasn’t a kind man, after all. It certainly wasn’t kindness that led him to take in an orphan, or to keep the King and Queen of the Underworld from ripping each other to shreds. No, that was all for purely selfish reasons. Of course. Persephone snorted to herself just thinking about it as she let Cerberus tug her down the street. She loved Hermes, but he was just as stubborn as the rest of them.

It was still early in the afternoon, but Persephone could see dim lights on in the back of the bar. She knocked once before opening the front door with her key, dropping the dog’s leash as he ran inside.

“Hermes?” She called, locking the door behind her. Cerberus had made a beeline for the back room, and she could hear someone laughing as he barked.

“Back here, sister!” That was definitely Hermes. She wove her way between the tables out of habit, flopping down in a chair in the back room. Lord, she wasn’t used to this much walking. Being sober should’ve made it easier, but all it did was make her more aware that her feet hurt. 

“Hey, brother. Figured you wouldn’t have left yet,” she hummed.

“Well, look who made it through another night,” Hermes snickered, glancing to the side. Persephone followed his gaze, and realized with a start that they weren’t alone. Eurydice was perched on a spare stool, scratching behind Cerberus’s ears as he licked her anywhere he could reach. She gave Persephone a little wave with her free hand. Persephone nodded in return, trying to pretend that she’d been aware of her presence the whole time. She shifted in her seat, looking back at Hermes as she processed what he’d said.

“What, you had doubts? You’ve seen me worse than that.” She kicked her feet out, letting them rest on his knees. She tried (and failed) not to keep glancing at Eurydice as she leaned back in her seat. 

“Sure,” Hermes agreed, “But not recently. And I didn’t know what the old man would think. Guessin’ it went alright, though, since the grid didn’t short out overnight.”

“No, it didn’t,” Persephone said carefully, shooting him a look. Should they be talking about all this in front of the girl? The nature of Hades’s connection with his domain wasn’t exactly something he advertised. Although, if Eurydice had been working as her husband’s assistant these past months, she probably already knew how tightly the man and the town were woven together. There was a reason there tended to be power outages in Hadestown when the King and Queen fought, the same reason there tended to be storms up above. As tight a leash as Hades kept his emotions on, he was still a man, and he blew a fuse once in a while. In more ways than one. 

She chanced another look at Eurydice to gauge her reaction, but the young girl seemed unfazed. In fact, she was looking back at her, idly rubbing Cerberus’s back as she spoke.

“Probably for the best. We’re still trying to get some of the oldest generators up and working again.” Eurydice’s tone was matter-of-fact, probably because of the way Persephone was still looking at her. “It helps that the grid isn’t runnin’ as hard as it used to, but anything else blowin’ up would set us back.”

“Right,” Persephone muttered. Wait. “What do you mean, not running as hard?”

Eurydice tilted her head at her, studying her face, and in that moment she looked so much like Hades that Persephone’s breath caught. “Well, it’s not stretched as thin these days, with some of the factories shut down. Back before--” It was Eurydice’s turn for her breath to hitch, something flickering behind her eyes before she steeled herself and continued. “Before last year, it was prone to overloading. There was just too much it was tryin’ to do. Scaling back the power consumption around town has helped a lot.”

“Uh, right.” Persephone wondered whether she was talking just about the power grid. Honestly, she didn’t really know how the damn thing worked. Hades had tried to show her way back when, but she’d never had a head for mechanics. Even though the Underworld was half hers, she had never quite clicked with it the way that she did with the Up Top. It didn’t come naturally to her, and it did to Hades, so he didn’t quite know how to explain it to her. He didn’t know why she didn’t just understand it the way he did. She’d gotten frustrated, and he’d gotten frustrated, and the whole thing had ended with a huge fight. He didn’t try to show her again after that. Maybe she should ask him about it. Not today, but at some point. Could be a step in the right direction.

Hermes tapped her shin, bringing her back to the present conversation. “What the young lady here is too polite to say outright is that y’all fighting isn’t any better for folks down here than it is for the folks up top, so knock it off.” 

Persephone scowled at Hermes as Eurydice let out a choked little laugh. At least the girl had the sense to try and hide it behind her hand. Cerberus shuffled over to Persephone, resting his head on his Mama’s leg and gazing up at her.

“Yeah, I know,” she huffed, petting the dog’s head in an attempt to calm down. She hadn’t had a frank conversation like this in a long time, and it showed. “Why’s that all anyone wants to talk about? Me and Hades this, Hades and me that. I know we’ve got issues better than anyone, y’all don’t need to remind me.” She kept her eyes on Cerberus, knowing her expression was less than kind.

“No offense, ma’am,” Eurydice piped up after a moment, “But it ain’t just about the two of you.”

Hermes nodded in agreement, tapping Persephone’s leg again until she looked at him. “She’s right, Seph. Ever since you and your man started this song and dance, it ain’t just been about you. You set the world turning, remember? Y’all signed up for this. There’s consequences for everyone when it gets outta whack.”

Persephone deflated at that, shoulders slumping as she sighed. “Yeah, I know,” she repeated, the venom gone from her voice. “It’s--we’re workin’ on it.” It was just about all she could offer. Don’t make promises you can’t keep.

He gave her ankle a squeeze before letting go, and his tone was brighter when he spoke again. “Speakin’ of keeping the grid intact, does your man know where you’re at?”

“He does, actually.” Persephone gave his knee a kick, but made it a gentle one, following his lead in lightening the mood. “Told him myself. Figured you’d storm the house if I didn’t check in, and nobody wants that.” She glanced back at Eurydice, raising a brow. “What about you, girl? Does the Bossman know you’re hangin’ around here?”

“I think so, but I don’t know for sure,” Eurydice shrugged. Persephone’s once again taken aback by how calm the girl is, despite everything. “Never outright told him, but he knows most of what goes on around here. I don't think it matters. I come help out on my days off, and it’s none of his business what I do with my free time.”

“Suppose that’s true,” Persephone agreed after a moment of staring. Had this little songbird always been so bold? Blunt to a fault, and didn’t that remind her of someone.

“Speaking of helping out, we were takin’ inventory when you showed up.” Hermes nudged Persephone’s legs off of him to stand, picking up a clipboard. “Might go faster if you give us a hand. I’ve been trying to get through this mess for half a year, and I still ain’t done. I’ve got no clue how you ever found anything back here.” 

It was bait, but it was so obvious that Persephone just rolled her eyes and took it. “Gimmie that, then.”

Chapter Text

Hermes only stuck around for about half an hour before he left, citing the train schedule. He dashed out of the room, leaving the Lady and the girl to handle the rest of the inventory. If Persephone didn’t know him so well, she would think he planned this from the beginning, a way to get them in a room together. Wait. He was exactly the kind of meddling jerk that would do that. She swore softly under her breath, glaring at the doorway. Hermes would pay for this.

It wasn’t even that she disliked the girl, not really. Up top, she’d seen how the little bird held herself, tense and guarded. Persephone wasn’t stupid. She knew what it looked like when someone had been down on their luck a little too long. It was why she made half an effort with her in the first place, until she and Orpheus figured themselves out. As much as she hated to admit it, even now, she’d looked out for Eurydice because she reminded her of someone else. Persephone had a soft spot for antisocial assholes, apparently.

Even last year, when Persephone’s blood boiled at the sight of her, she wasn’t angry with her. She’d pitied the girl, who had made a deal without reading the fine print, but all her anger was directed at her husband. And, well, a deal was a deal. She wasn’t proud to admit it, but she probably wouldn’t have gotten involved if Orpheus hadn’t shown up. The songbird wasn’t the first poor bastard to make a bad deal, and she wouldn’t be the last. Well, maybe she would. Hm.

Point being, Persephone had no clue how to talk to the girl. What the hell was she supposed to say? ‘Sorry I didn’t stop my husband from taking advantage of you, sorry I couldn’t do anything when your husband failed you, but I guess you and Hades sorted something out that I still don’t understand so it worked out better than it could’ve?’ No way.

She shook her head, snorting under her breath, and looked back up to realize that Eurydice was staring at her. The girl’s head was tilted again, just so, and Persephone paused.

“What? I got somethin’ on my face?” She knew she didn’t, but she was trying to keep the mood light. Eurydice’s mouth twitched, but she didn’t quite smile.

“No.” It was her turn to pause, studying Persephone’s face closely. “Do you want me to leave, ma’am?”

“What?” Damn if she didn’t feel like a broken record. “Why would you think that?”

“You’ve barely looked at me. I can take a hint.” The songbird folded her arms around herself, struggling to keep her expression neutral. “I know this is your space, and like I said, I’ve just been helpin’ out. You can find someone else--”

It finally dawned on Persephone what she meant, and she cut Eurydice off with a wave of her hand. “Girl, don’t you worry about that. I wasn’t even here, right? If anythin’, I’m glad someone was around to keep an eye on things. We both know that Mister Hermes ain’t exactly a businessman. He’s more likely to snoop than serve drinks.” Hermes did run his own bar Up Top, and was perfectly capable of looking after her own, but she wasn’t lying about him being nosy.

Eurydice raised a brow at her, clearly unconvinced, and she sighed. She knew she had to be the one to bring it up, but she didn’t want to. “I’m serious. I--it’s good that you were around this past summer. I know it ain’t easy.” She raked a hand through her hair, not quite looking at the girl. Persephone internally cursed herself. Older than the world, and she still didn’t have a damn clue what to say.

“It’s not like that.” Eurydice’s voice was quieter than Persephone had ever heard it, and she looked up to see that the girl was still holding herself tight, steeling herself. “Between me and Mister Hades. It ain’t--we’re not--I never--” 

“Oh, bless your heart.” Persephone knew she shouldn’t, but she laughed. “I knew that. Knew that since before your poet showed up.” Eurydice flinched ever so slightly, and Persephone felt a little bad, but not bad enough to shut up.

“You’re not takin’ my place, songbird. We both know that. Is that what you were worried about, really? That I’d be upset you were a homewrecker?” she snorted, sitting down and leaning back. Cerberus, who had been laying on the floor in the corner, trotted over to nose at her hands. She pet his head absently, looking back at the girl.

Eurydice was staring at her, fingers clenching and unclenching the sleeves of her coat. Her jaw was set, teeth grinding. 

“I’m not an idiot! Forgive me for not wanting someone else pissed off at me for somethin’ I didn’t do--” She cut herself off, jaw snapping closed with an audible click that would’ve been funny if the situation was different.

Persephone arched a brow at her, stroking Cerberus’s ears. Clearly she’d hit a nerve. “What are you talking about? Is someone givin’ you trouble?” Surely the workers were smart enough to stay away from her, especially if Hades had taken her under his wing.

“No--it’s nothin’.” The songbird was still tense, eyes flicking between her and the door. Persephone could tell that the girl was trying to gather a plausible excuse to leave, and patted the seat next to her. Not a command, just a request. 

Eurydice continued to eye her for a moment before accepting. She deflated a little as she slumped into the seat, pulling her coat closer, and Persephone was struck with how young she really was. The girl put on a tough front, but she was barely in her twenties. She’d known that, of course, but Persephone had been alive for so long that she could scarcely comprehend it. Twenty years was nothing, gone in the blink of an eye. She’d had periods of drunkenness that lasted longer than Eurydice would ever be alive, and the realization made her wince.

“What’s goin’ on with you, hm?” Persephone rested her chin on her hand, trying her best to remember how her Mama had looked during these sorts of talks. Then again, she and Demeter weren't the best example of a healthy relationship. 

“...it’s just strange,” the girl said softly. She was almost fully folded over herself, leaning over her thighs, but didn’t seem to realize it. Her fists twisted her sleeves, and she looked away, hiding her face from Persephone. 

“I thought--I don’t know what I thought. I just didn’t want to fuck up again. Gettin’ between you two, I mean. I never--we never talked about it. Never got a chance. So I didn’t know where we stood.”

“Suppose that’s fair.” She had to admit, the girl was using some kind of logic. Stupid logic, sure, but Persephone could see how it made sense to her. She leaned forward, making eye contact and holding it. “I never had a problem with you, kid. With my husband, sure. That man has a lot to answer for. But you were just in the wrong place, at the wrong time, in the wrong kind a’ situation. Don’t blame you for makin’ a hard choice. Hell, I might’ve done the same thing.”

Eurydice looked back at her, expression carefully neutral. It’s clear that wasn’t what she’d expected, and Persephone could hardly blame her. Down here, she wasn’t known for the sort of generosity she was praised for Up Top. She had a mean streak that grew wider the more she drank, and she was drunker at her speakeasy than she ever was in the summertime. 

“I’d understand if you were upset with me.”

“I know. But I’m not. You didn’t do anything wrong, not really. I mean, I wouldn’t recommend doin’ what you did,” she chuckled, inwardly relieved when she saw Eurydice stifle a smile. “But it wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

The girl’s hesitation told her all she needed to know. Goddamnit.

“Eurydice.” It was the first time she’d addressed her directly, and they both knew the significance of that. Names were important down here. “It’s not your fault things turned out the way they did. You were in a bad spot, and you did what you had to. Like I said, wouldn’t recommend it, but I don’t fault you for it.” She was only human, after all.

She held Eurydice’s gaze until the girl looked away, clearing her throat. “I--yeah. Thank you, ma’am.”

“You can call me Persephone, y’know.” It was an offering, and not one extended lightly. 

“No offense, ma’am, but the Boss would rather we didn’t.”

She arched a brow at her, smirking. “Isn’t that kinda your whole thing, doing things that my husband would rather you didn’t?”

Eurydice laughed in a way that Persephone hadn’t heard since the summer before last, loud and clear.

“Suppose you’re right, Persephone.”

Chapter Text

When Persephone and Eurydice finally left the speakeasy, Cerberus panting at his Mama’s heels, the back room looked nicer than it had in decades. Persephone had to hand it to the girl, she knew what she was doing. When she’d tried to sort things out herself she ended up getting pissed off and quitting halfway through, but the songbird knew a thing or two about organizing and taking stock. Persephone had half a mind to give the girl a bonus or something, but Eurydice had shot that down as soon as she brought it up, so she let it be. She’d offered to walk her home, too, but walked it back when she saw Eurydice’s slight flinch. Alright, message received. Too much too soon. One decent conversation wasn’t going to fix everything, after all.

Damn, things would be so much simpler if it could, though. Persephone shook her head, letting Cerberus tug her along as they trekked back to the house. Old as she was, she should know by now that nothing was ever simple. As much as she hated it, some things required actually putting in work. Ugh.

It was late afternoon by the time that they got home, Persephone wrangling Cerberus in the doorway to unclip his harness before he rushed down the hall. She hung it on it’s hook by the door as the dog bounded up the stairs, presumably heading to Hades’s office. Chuckling, she hung up her coat and wandered into the kitchen. Another cup of coffee sounded great right now. Lunch was probably a good idea, too. She hesitated after putting the coffee on, looking around the kitchen.

Persephone, contrary to popular belief, was a terrible cook. She had no issue growing food, but preparing it? Count her out. It was one of many things that Mama had tried, failed, and eventually given up on educating her on. It had never ended up being an issue, since Persephone had never lived on her own. Hades, contrary to popular belief, was a pretty decent cook. He’d lived alone for so long that he had to be, or he would’ve starved eons ago. When Persephone moved in, she’d been more than happy to leave the cooking to him, and he was happy to do it.

Which led to her current dilemma. In recent years, Persephone had made due with scrounging around for leftovers, and Hades had been so wrapped up in his work that he frequently forgot to eat. Judging by the state of the fridge, he hadn’t gotten any better about that over the summer. There were a few containers of some kind of pasta stacked to the side, and Persephone grabbed two of them. She gave them a tentative sniff before shrugging and sticking them in the microwave. Good enough.

Persephone may have been an awful cook, but she wasn’t raised in a barn. She had the manners to know that eating leftovers straight out of the tupperware was something you did alone when you were too drunk to care, not with your husband. So she got out a couple of the decent plates for the pasta, chucking the containers into the sink to deal with later. Tracing Cerberus’s path down the hall, she tapped on the doorframe before leaning in. 

“Have you eaten anything today, holed up in here?” Her words came out more accusatory than she intended, and she saw Hades wince. Shit. She hefted the plates she was holding, hoping to soften the blow. “I mean, I haven’t either. I just made lunch if you want any.”

“Oh?” His brow ticked up slightly, and Persephone shrugged. 

 “Well, I reheated leftovers.”

“Oh.” His jaw relaxed, but he was still tense. She waited, hovering in the doorway. After a moment Hades shuffled his paperwork to the side, clearing a space on his desk, and nodded at her. Never was good with his words, but Persephone knew that by now. She tried to smile at him as she set his plate down, and he inclined his head towards the seat across from his desk.

“Sit. I mean, if you want,” he amended hastily, avoiding eye contact. Persephone stifled the urge to roll her eyes, pulling up the chair as Hades stacked more of his papers to the side. The way the papers towered over him was almost funny. Almost.

“What are ya’ working on?” She asked after a long moment of silence. Hades blinked, clearly not expecting the question. She couldn’t really blame him; after all, it had been centuries since she’d taken any sort of interest in the business side of Hadestown.

“Reworkin’ some of the contracts.” He paused to chew, glancing between the paperwork and his wife. “How was the bar?”

It was Persephone’s turn to blink in surprise. “Oh, uh, it was alright. Hermes didn’t burn it down while I was gone. Spent some time organizin’, too.” She almost mentioned Eurydice, but thought better of it. The girl had said herself that it wasn’t Hades’s business what she did in her free time. Whatever was going on there, she didn’t want to interfere.

“That’s good,” Hades hummed, his tone carefully neutral. They continued to eat in silence, but it was less uncomfortable than before. Persephone watched the way the lights flickered overhead, casting shadows against the stone walls of the office. She watched her husband, leaned over his desk with his piles of paperwork, and thought about what the songbird had said. Hm.

“Hey, you got a minute?” Seeing the torn look on his face, Persephone backtracked a bit. “Doesn’t have to be right now, but at some point this evenin’?”

Hades hesitated, glancing between his stacks of paperwork and his wife. “I...I could make some time. Everything alright?”

“Oh, yeah. It’s nothin’ bad, I promise. Just had an idea,” she reassured him. She hadn’t realized how her question had sounded until she heard the undercurrent of anxiety in his voice. Oops.

“An idea,” Hades repeated, his eyebrow raising.

“I do have those on occasion,” Persephone retorted, smiling to let him know she was joking. “Just come find me when you wrap up, alright?”

Hades was clearly still on edge, but he took a deep breath before nodding. “Okay.”

“Okay.” She grabbed the now empty plates and headed for the door, the gears in her mind turning. Yes, she had an idea.

Chapter Text

Persephone was sitting outside on the back steps when she felt the air around her shift. She had to stifle the urge to jump when she turned to see Hades sitting beside her. For all of his intimidating presence, that man could be damn near invisible when he wanted to be. 

“You don’t have to sneak around, y’know,” she chided, bumping her shoulder into his to soften her words. “It’s just us.”

“I--oh.” Hades blinked. He clearly hadn’t realized what he was doing, and she resisted the urge to roll her eyes. He could be a damn fool, too. So accustomed to slinking around in his own home that he’d done it without a second thought. “Right.”

He didn’t say anything else, looking back out across the grounds, but Persephone could tell from how he was holding himself that her husband was nervous. She bumped his shoulder again, but didn’t move away this time, leaning against him. He stiffened, but didn’t shrug her off. They had both learned that Hades wasn’t used to the casual touch that Persephone was so fond of, but they made it work. Well, they’d made it work in the past. It had been a long time.

Hades cleared his throat after a minute, glancing down at her. “You said you wanted to see me?”

“Yeah, I--”  Persephone had been rehearsing how to ask him about this all afternoon, but now she couldn’t recall what she’d wanted to say. Well, might as well put her cards on the table. 

“I don’t really know how to say this. It’s nothin’ bad,” she added hastily, feeling Hades shoulder tense under her head. “I’m just tryin’ to find the words.”

He hummed in a vaguely affirmative way, but didn’t say anything, giving her time to sort out her thoughts. Of all people, she was sure he understood not knowing what to say.

“You remember when you first put up the grid?” 

“I do,” he said slowly, glancing at her again. Persephone could see the gears turning behind his eyes, and could tell his thoughts weren’t going anywhere good, so she barreled on.

“You tried to show me how it worked, and I--we--it didn’t work out.” Understatement of the century. “Was wonderin’ if you--if we could try that again.”

Her husband was silent so long that she sat up to fully look at him. He was staring straight ahead, sitting very still in a way that was unlike him. The thing about Hades was that he never stopped moving, not really. He moved slowly but steadily, in the way that tectonic plates shifted underground. Barely perceptible unless you were really looking for it, or until something went horribly wrong. But he never stopped completely. 

“Hades?” Persephone gave his forearm a squeeze, keeping her touch gentle. He jerked all the same, coming back to himself with a start. She squeezed his arm again, a silent reminder that it was just her. He glanced over at her, visibly slumping as he exhaled.

“Sorry, I--yeah. Yeah,” he repeated, running a hand through his hair with his free hand. “You sure about this?”

“Of course I am.” She could tell that he was talking about more than showing her the grid, and held tighter to his arm in a silent response. Her temper flared at the thought that he still didn’t believe she was serious about trying--damn him, couldn’t he take her at her word--but she knew that wasn’t fair. 

Hades grunted, pulling his arm back from her to stand stiffly. He offered her a hand, not quite meeting her eyes. “It’ll be easier closer to the center, if you’re up for a walk.”

“The center,” she repeated, halfway between an agreement and a question. Persephone let him help her to her feet, and didn’t let go of his hand once they were both standing. They started walking, and she let him lead. Hades moved more smoothly over the rocks than she’d expected, all things considered. Maybe he wasn’t that old after all.

“Mm. The center of the realm, not the town,” he added, an explanation for why they were headed towards the jagged cliffs that bordered Hadestown.

“Right.” Persephone nodded, pretending that made sense. The fact that she clearly knew so little about the Underworld that was half hers left a sour taste in her mouth, especially since it was no one’s fault but her own. Surely she had known all of this once, but she wasn’t young anymore, and her memory wasn’t what it had been before the alcohol. 

Hades glanced at her before clearing his throat, a sure sign that he had seen through her. He struggled with his words for a moment, opening and closing his mouth, before turning his gaze back to the rocky path. “It’ll be easier to show you.”

“Right.” She turned her focus to her footsteps, determined not to trip and make a fool of herself. If she hadn’t been watching the ground so closely, she might’ve missed the way that the pebbles lining their path seemed to skitter away from her husband’s feet before they made contact. Looking closer, the trail in front of them was smoothing itself down under his steps, leaving a more discernible path behind them than ahead. Huh. Neat trick. She subtly fell into step behind him to avoid the rougher terrain.

When Hades finally stopped walking, they were standing on a somewhat unremarkable bit of cliffside that overlooked the town. Not just the town, actually. Turning in a slow circle, Persephone realized that she could see most of the Underworld itself from their vantage point. Hades watched in silence, giving her a small smile when she turned to him.

“Like I said, easier to show ya’.” His drawl was more pronounced, the way it got when he actually relaxed. To Persephone’s surprise, he lowered himself down carefully to sit in the dirt, leaning back. She couldn’t remember the last time Hades had willingly gotten his clothes dirty.

“I see what you mean. Center of the realm, huh?” The more she paid attention, the more that Persephone got a feeling from the rocks around them. It was similar to the aura her husband exuded when they argued and she pushed him past his limit. That wasn’t quite fair, though. What she was feeling now wasn’t angry. It just was.

Hades lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “More or less. Actual center is--” He paused, tilting his head just so as he considered. “About twenty feet that way, but we’d have to tunnel into the mountain to get to it.”

“You can just tell?” She sat down next to him, kicking her legs out in front of her and crossing them at the ankle. Of all the times to wear a dress. Not that she really cared about modesty anymore.

His head was tilted again, but this time his gaze was trained on her. “You can tell where you are when you’re upstairs, right?”

Persephone stifled a snort, but didn’t bring up their age-old argument of how he referred to the world above. For him it made sense to call it ‘upstairs’, even if it didn’t for the rest of the world. “Well, yeah, but--”

“But what?” 

“That’s different.”

“How so?” His tone wasn’t unkind, but she bristled anyways.

“You want that list alphabetized? The Underworld is nothing like--”

“That’s not what I mean,” Hades interrupted, not letting her launch into a rant. “How is you bein’ able to know where you are up there different from me knowin’ down here?”

“Well, I--wait, what?” Of everything she’d been expecting him to say, that wasn’t it.

“I know as well as anyone that things work differently down here.” His tone was even, but she swore that the stones around them shuddered. “What I don’t understand is why everyone thinks they know this place better than I do. This is my damn realm, Seph, just like upstairs is yours. How’s that different?”

Persephone looked at him, opening her mouth, but Hades turned away. She could see the way his jaw worked in frustration, his fingers clenching and unclenching against his folded arms. The stones were definitely rumbling, too. She laid her palm flat on the ground beneath them, frowning as she took in the low hum of frustration it emitted. That was all her husband. This was something that had been bothering him for a while, then.

“I guess I never thought about it,” she admitted after a long moment. “I should’ve, though. Makes sense when you put it like that.”

The humming annoyance of the rocks stuttered, tripping over itself before smoothing out into something softer. Hades was watching her again, glancing between her face and her hand pressed to the ground. She stayed very still, straining to feel the little shifts under her palm.

He finally sighed, shoulders slumping, and the ground stopped trembling. “I should’ve tried harder to show ya, in the beginning. I know it ain’t easy.”

“No, it ain’t,” she snorted, kicking his ankle. “But it’s too late for all that. So show me now.”

“I mean, you’ve got the right idea.” He gestured towards her hand, still pressed down. “Feelin’ it out is what works for me. It’s how I found this spot in the first place. The town, the grid, whatever you want to call it--it all starts here.” He knocked lightly on the ground, and Persephone felt it shudder in response.

“Huh. It branches out,” she mused, her left hand joining her right in the dirt. “Like roots, almost. You said it’s not just the grid? What is it?”

“Hell if I know. It just is.” Hades huffed out a laugh, the ground humming along. He must’ve seen the look on her face, though, and he raised a brow. “I’m serious. There’s a force that keeps things running, and I tap into it and direct it where I can. That’s it. What is it upstairs, then?”

“I--well, it’s life, kind of. Life creates energy, which we channel into our work,” Persephone recited, hearing her mother’s lectures echoing in the back of her mind. “But there’s no life down here. That’s kinda the whole point.”

“No life like there is upstairs,” he corrected, looking back out towards the town. “I think there’s something here. It’s just not what people expect.”

“Unexpected, huh. I guess you have a point.” Persephone considered that, listening to the humming of the town and the grid and the ground itself. The two of them sat there for a long time like that, watching and listening.

Chapter Text

The two of them spent hours out there on the cliffside, not saying a word, and Persephone understood a little better after that. What she understood, well, that was a little hard to put into words. But she felt a shift as they walked back to the house, the stones under her feet smoothing like they did for her husband. Now that she was paying attention, the grid was everywhere, thrumming softly down below and up above. Maybe not a living thing, but something close to it. 

Persephone took it upon herself to get up and make coffee while Hades was out walking Cerberus the next morning, getting changed out of her nightshirt while it was brewing. She had a plan. Well, the rough outlines of a plan. A plan to make a plan. Hell, that was better than she'd done in centuries, so she would take it. 

She was sipping her coffee, Hades's mug laid out for him on the table, when Cerberus came bounding through the door. The dog was all wiggles and happy barks as he nosed her, and she stifled a laugh. Hades shuffled into the kitchen a moment later, bleary eyed and blinking. He blinked, clearly surprised to see her, but sat down heavily anyways. Persephone's mouth pulled down at the corner as she took in his slight limp, the way he rubbed his knee with one hand as he grabbed for his coffee with the other. She thought back to the way he'd stumbled out of bed the other morning, gripping hard to the nightstand for balance. Hm. 

"...mornin," Hades mumbled once he was halfway through his cup.

"Mornin." 

They let the silence settle. It wasn't as uncomfortable of a thing anymore, to be quiet with him. They could be at peace with each other, just being. That in mind, Persephone waited until he was done with his first cup of coffee and sipping a second before she spoke. 

"I'd like to come into the office today."

Hades didn't choke on his drink, but judging by the little sputtering sound he made it was a near thing. He gaped at her, more expressive than usual. She just looked back at him, letting herself smile. All these years, at least she could still surprise him sometimes. Mostly when he was still waking up. 

He shook his head, face smoothing into a careful neutral. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." She rested her chin on her hand, feigning nonchalance to hide her nerves. "It's been a while. Figure I've got some catching up to do."

Hades blinked at her again, the gears of his mind clearly turning. To be fair, she had just made another understatement of the century. 

As much as Persephone wished she didn't, she remembered the last time she'd been in the office. They'd been discussing one of the new forges, and it had devolved into a terrible fight, the worst they'd had to date at the time. It was the loudest she'd ever heard her husband bellow, and she had met him with shrieks of her own. Funnily enough, though, she couldn't clearly recall the argument itself. Just that they were fighting, and that it culminated in her storming out of his office and Hades slamming the doors behind her. A fuse blew above her head as she screamed at him, showering her with sparks, and the Underworld had been left dark for three days straight. 

All that being said, she could understand her husband's hesitance to have her back. 

She sipped her coffee as she waited, both of them looking at each other. Surprisingly, Hades looked away first, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Well, if that’s what you want,” he said carefully.

She nodded. “It is.”

He nodded in return, draining the rest of his cup. The silence that stretched between them was a little less comfortable now, but Hades still offered her his arm after he shrugged his coat on. She let him, tucking herself into his side as they walked. This early, there was still a chill in the air, the glow of the forges and the factories dimmed.

They were comfortably quiet again as they walked, the silence only broken once Hades opened the heavy doors to his office. 

"You're late," Eurydice chided, her back to the door as she stood on her toes to rummage through the file cabinet. "So I don't wanna hear it next time I--"

She trailed off as she turned and saw them both, blinking in surprise. 

"Watch your mouth, girl," Hades rumbled, but there was no bite to his words. Persephone knew it, and Eurydice did too by the way she rolled her eyes. The girl was quick to acclimate, inclining her head towards Persephone as she went back to her desk. 

"Yeah, yeah. Find another assistant that'll put up with you and we'll talk."

Hades just shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. He hesitated before grabbing the chair in front of his desk and pulling it around next to his own, offering it to Persephone. She offered him a smile in return as she sat, tucking her skirts underneath her. He settled into his own chair, rolling his neck as he got comfortable. 

"So." She waved at hand at his papers, at the office space in general. "Catch me up." 

Persephone had never had a head for numbers, and going over the ledgers with Hades reminded her of why she had been content to leave it to him in the first place. But she was trying. This place was half hers, too. And, as it turns out, it was easier to do math when her vision wasn't swimming with alcohol. She did her best not to get snippy with Hades, and he did his best to not lose his temper with her in turn. They poured over the documents for what felt like days, Hades's low rumble of explanations a constant hum, but by the end of it Persephone felt--well. Not as confused as the first time they'd done this, and not as likely to scream at her husband as the last.  

It was Eurydice that broke the two of them out of their stupor, clearing her throat. 

"Hey, it's about time to close up." She jangled her key ring pointedly at Hades, who scowled back. 

"You don't need my permission to leave when your shift is over."

"Nice try," Eurydice gave him a decidedly unimpressed look. "You're leavin' too."

Hades ground his teeth, leveling her with a look right back. The two of them were locked in a stalemate that left Persephone feeling out of the loop. 

She touched Hades's arm, glancing between the two of them questioningly. "Everything alright?"

They both paused to look at her before responding simultaneously. 

"Fine," Hades huffed. 

"Nope," Eurydice replied cheerfully. "We have a rule, boss, c'mon."

Persephone's brow raised. "A rule?"

"Yep. We leave at the same time." Eurydice perched herself on the edge of her desk, swinging her legs. "Keeps him from being here all night."

Hades made a grumbled noise of protest, but he stood. "Keeps you from doin' the same, young lady."

"Alright, not a rule then. A system of checks and balances," Eurydice retorted. "Doesn't change it."

Persephone stifled a smirk at the look on her husband's face. He wasn't used to being challenged. Well, he didn't used to be. Maybe the girl was good for him. 

Hades gave Eurydice a shooing motion as he locked the door behind the three of them. "Go on, then. Get outta here."

Eurydice rolled her eyes, but tipped her head. "G'night, boss. G'night, Persephone."

"Night, Eurydice," Persephone echoed with a smile, watching the girl flit away. Hades was looking at her strangely when she glanced back at him. She raised a brow, but he shook his head, offering her his arm again. She took it, noting the stiffness in his gait, and tried to support him where their arms met as they made their way back to the house.