Work Text:
When Oedipus awoke everything felt wrong. Like he just sat up after spinning in a chair, the universe flipped and he felt sick.
What was going on?
After getting his head under control he saw he was laying in bed that almost resembled a medical one? The room around him was bare and gray metal.
The last thing he remembered… he was dying.
Oh.
This was the Acheron. Interesting.
Oedipus shifted so his legs were dangling off of the bed. It felt… odd to move? Not necessarily wrong but certainly not right either.
When he stood up the room swam and the next thing he knew he was collapsed on the floor.
He gently brushed it, and he knew he should be feeling cold metal but instead he felt nothing but a sense of resistance.
That's when the door opened and a figure stepped inside the room. They were tall, taller than Oedipus, and a fair bit broader. They looked something between a friendly person and someone who would turn on you the moment it benefited them.
"Ah, I see you've woken up."
Oedipus nodded slowly and found himself speaking. "I seem to be having some problems getting my bearings."
His voice sounded wrong, echoe-y and faint and not quite his own. Oedipus didn't like it.
The stranger nodded and shrugged, "That's quite common, do not worry. Here." With that the person strode forward and offered their hand to Oedipus.
Oedipus took it, because there was nothing else to do, and the world got blurry and confusing for a second before everything straightened out and he was standing next to the person.
They nodded to him, seemingly pleased, and then said, "Follow me." And off they walked and Oedipus followed them.
They led him through the hallways, each one looked the same except for the numbers that marked the doors.
Something about it chilled Oedipus.
The person led Oedipus into another room. This one had a table, a chair in the middle of it, as well as a white board on the wall. There were some papers on the table, as well as a pen.
Oedipus looked to the person, hoping for an explanation.
They gestured to the seat, "Start your work. And do not worry about finishing too fast, there will always be more."
They smiled and it was wrong and then they were gone. The door to the room was also gone.
Oedipus felt a faint sense of panic and confusion but it was far, far away. So he sat down and grabbed the first paper, it was a reading about a disease he'd heard of before. On the paper, above the reading, were instructions.
Oedipus set to work.
Oedipus could not say how long he worked, there was no way to tell and his mind did not wear down like he knew it should have.
It was easy to throw himself into work here, something dulled his emotions and any and all exhaustion. It was easy here to forget, to forget his life and just think about problem after problem, coming up with solution after solution.
He would say it was nice but he could not feel any feeling, not any distress but also not any sense of enjoyment or contentment.
He simply did not feel here.
Everything was so far away, so distant, and so trivial. He felt disconnected from this place, but simultaneously like he belonged here.
It was not a feeling of home, no, it was simply a truth. A fact. He, Oedipus, was here and this was where he belonged.
He was not sure how long it had been when he sat up again, when he stopped working.
He looked around and he saw that the door was back. He stood and walked over to it and he wondered if the other person would be behind it.
The other person… Oedipus realized he couldn't remember what they looked like. Or their name, had they even told him it?
Confusion clouded Oedipus' head and he found himself resting his head against the door.
Everything was so foggy, why was it so foggy?
Oedipus reached down and opened the door.
Where… right, the Acheron.
As Oedipus stepped out of the work room his mind cleared a little, and not fully sure of what his goal was, he started walking.
He was quick and thankful his feet didn't make noise against the floor in this odd place.
He needed to go. He needed to find someone.
Who? Why? Where was he going?
The further he walked the clearer his mind became, the more he felt.
He felt panicked, a mentally worn down type of tired, and confused, but on top of all of that - deeper than all of that he felt this ache in his chest and this desperation and longing that shook him with its intensity.
Heracles.
Oedipus was looking for Heracles.
How could he forget?
A stab of guilt courses through Oedipus as he speeds up to a run.
Heracles. Gods how long had it been since they both died? Had Heracles been awake in here before Oedipus?
Oedipus had to find him. If this was their fucking fate, to be trapped in the Acheron for the rest of forever, then the very least they could do was find each other.
Oh gods, what if he was still mad at him? What if he had changed his mind? What if he hated Oedipus?
This was all his fault after all.
Hell, if he had just accepted that he wouldn't be able to escape The City and dropped the subject then he wouldn't have gone on the job. If he wasn't on the job Heracles' would've had no problem beating everyone up, knocking some sense into them. He wouldn't have been in harm's way so Heracles wouldn't have held back.
If he had just fucking stepped up when they needed someone to solve the last key to the vault. Everyone would be okay if Oedipus had just fucking manned up and stepped into the stupid fucking machine.
A love stronger than life.
That was rather funny now, come to think of it.
Here he was, running through the Acheron, dead, in the vain hope that he will somehow find Heracles.
Take that as a fucking love stronger than life.
Gods if only he had talked to Ulysses. Convinced them somehow to tell, to explain.
If only they had not listened to Daedalus or turned against him.
If only, if only, if only.
But none of that had happened, and now they were all dead.
Oedipus was surprised to find his vision blurred.
Tears?
Oh. He was crying.
Oedipus slowed to a stop and let his legs give out under him.
How big was this place? What even was the chance of him finding Heracles?
It had everyone in it who was dead. Gods. It must be fucking massive.
That… that was it wasnt it. It was going to be too big to find Heracles. Even if they were both looking.
He wiped at the tears flowing down his face, soft whimpers and gasps for air escaping him as shakes wracked his body.
After an indeterminate amount of time after his sobs faded away he heard footsteps and looked up, hope foolishly filling his up chest.
It was a person. Oedipus blinked and suddenly he recognized them. They were the person who led him to the room.
They offer him a hand yet again. And he takes it, letting them pull him upright.
"You were searching for Heracles."
It wasn't a question, but Oedipus nods anyway.
"Follow me."
And Oedipus does follow, not with hope but with resignation.
What else could he do? Run hopelessly through endless hallways?
Oedipus is led into a new room, this one darker, filled with blank screens.
The person starts typing on one of said screens and all the while they talk.
"You have not been awake for long, particularly not in the reference of the Acheron, but also not in the reference of your 'suits.' Heracles has been awake for some time before you."
Oedipus felt his chest ache at the thought and briefly wondered of the fates of the other suits. Hopefully Orphie had found Eurydice.
"As this is, as I'm sure you've discerned, a simulation of a place, we have full recordings of all of Heracles' time here. He has been adjusting quite well."
They cleared their throat, clicking something that had popped up and pulling up dozens of video files.
"You may watch."
Oedipus' eyes widened and he stepped forward and stared at the screen holders for the various videos. Heracles. There he was, uninjured and no longer bleeding out.
Oedipus laughed, his eyes watering as he clicked on the first video.
It was Heracles he was sitting with a woman Oedipus barely recognized from old newspaper clippings.
That was Megara, Heracles' wife.
He couldn't hear what they were saying but she leans against him and Heracles smiles.
Gods. He looked happy. Oedipus hadn't seen him that happy… ever? Not recently for sure, but perhaps once or twice. Memories were… difficult here.
The video finishes and he clicks on the next.
Heracles is walking through the halls, looking and peering around with curiosity.
In the next he's fighting in an arena and Oedipus has to look away because when he remembers the taste of iron and the feeling of wounds too deep for him to fix.
In the next he's hugging an older woman, Oedipus thinks he recognizes her as Heracles' mom, from a photo he'd once shown in a rare moment of vulnerability.
In the next he's laughing, he can't see at what but he feels a spike of jealousy cut through him at whoever it was spending this time with him.
Then another video with him and his wife. They looked happy. Oedipus knew how much Heracles missed her, he was glad.
He was glad.
He was.
As more videos showed him and her, him and his mom, him happy, laughing, talking, existing.
Oedipus was glad.
Why wouldn't he be?
He wanted Heracles to be happy. And there he was, happy.
…
Not even looking for Oedipus.
There is no forlorn sense in any of the videos, no hint of worry - curiosity - anything for Oedipus.
Heracles was happy. Happy without Oedipus.
And here was Oedipus. Ruined without Heracles.
Oedipus laughed as the last video ended, tears sliding down his face because he couldn't even control his own fucking eyes without Heracles.
Oedipus laughed and it was a sad pitiful sound.
The person put a hand on his shoulder.
"I'm sorry," they said. "It's better this way though, don't you think? He doesn't need you weighing him down anymore. Doesn't need you to fill the hole of all he's lost. He's got everyone he loves back."
And Oedipus laughed again because they were right. It came out choked and quickly turned into a sob.
"He doesn't need you anymore. So you ought not force yourself back into his life."
Oedipus nodded, tears still streaming.
"I just-" a sob racked through Oedipus' body "-I still need him."
"Of course you do. He had all these people but you, well you only had him didn't you."
It was true, that's why it fucking hurt .
"I'm sorry, would you like to leave?"
Yes, gods, Oedipus would do anything to leave this fucking room - this cage .
So the person leads Oedipus back to his room, the one with the table and all the work. And Oedipus is thankful because in this room he doesn't feel it as much.
The bursting ache in his chest is easily overlooked as he throws himself into work.
And when the door reappears Oedipus does not try to leave, he does not go looking for Heracles.
But after a long while the door opens again and a person leads him into a room.
Had he been here before?
He wasn't sure when he recognized the person again, but it was the same it had been the last two times.
He's sat at a table where he talks - or at least he thinks he does he's not sure during or after - with the person and they talk back and he hurts and the person is right. They are always right.
They know so much about him, about Heracles. So when they tell Oedipus that Heracles hates him Oedipus isn't surprised.
He'd even like to say it barely hurt, but that would be a lie. It hurt. It hurt a lot.
Eventually Oedipus is taken back to the workroom and he throws himself back into it, working for so long.
And when the door reappears yet again Oedipus feels pain and panic spark in his throat.
A person? The person? Took Oedipus to a dark room and there is yelling and he is confused and tired and everything hurts.
He tries to listen to the yelling, focus in on the words he knows are directed at him. He thinks they are calling him useless, pathetic, weak, needy… and more.
That's fair, those are all true so of course he deserves this.
Then it's back to work and again he is taken away from his work.
Someone - something? - takes Oedipus somewhere. He isn't sure anymore, everything is… confusing. Blurry. Mixed up.
He wishes they would just let him work. Why did they take him here? Why did they make him hurt like this?
Why.
Why…
Why?
Was it a new time that they held Oedipus' face gently, their hand unfelt beyond a definite presence. They cupped his face and their tone was oh so sweet as they told Oedipus of everything he would never be and everything he was.
Oedipus didn't understand. He knew. He knew all of this so why did they remind him.
Why did they remind him that Heracles had left him because of all of his failings.
That it was his fault that they were all here.
That he would never escape.
That Heracles was happy without him because all Oedipus did was kill people.
That was true wasn't it.
He caused people to rot, to die.
He had killed his father, had not stopped his mother from killing herself, and had failed to save thousands of people.
And then they were listing the names.
Every single name.
Of every single person he'd failed.
Starting from his first boyfriend and ending at Orpheus and Heracles.
Gods, Orpheus.
That was his fault too wasn't it.
Then a hard jolt and he was working again, but his hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Why wouldn't they stop .
Oedipus felt like some rubber band pulled so tight it was about to snap. To break.
Perhaps he was already broken.
He laughed when the door came back, laughed until he cried, until he couldn't breathe.
Good. Take him. Break him. Remind him of everything. Say it all in a sickly sweet voice.
Oedipus found himself missing the yelling, he wished they would just hit him, scream at him. He wished they would crack his head open on the floor and leave him to bleed out.
This was too much.
The kind voice disguising the painful words, the thing - person? - holding him close in a mockery of human touch as they said it all.
He couldn't breathe, he couldn't think, and they wouldn't stop talking .
When he was returned to his work he sat and he stared at the papers in front of him.
He couldn't. He didn't know what they were asking.
He knew this, he knew he should know this.
So why couldn't he make it make sense?
Oh.
He'd broken hadn't he. The rubber band had finally snapped.
He didn't laugh or cry or scream. He just sat and stared at the paper.
He sat until someone was there pulling him away, until someone was pushing him into a bed.
Then nothing. Then everything.
It was like he'd been turned off and on again.
He still did not move, he didn't feel rested.
He didn't feel much.
That wasn't right, was it?
He should be in pain right now.
Wasn't he always?
He was still so tired. Gods he was tired.
Oedipus sat up and for the first time in who knows how long he thinks of Heracles on his own terms.
And he misses him so much. It felt like someone had torn him apart and when they put him back together they forgot a piece.
No. It felt like they'd just put back together the outline and gave up before they could fill in the rest of the puzzle.
Oedipus wonders what Heracles would do if he saw him again.
He wonders if he would pretend not to see him or pretend he still cares - had ever cared? Most likely Heracles would give him a disappointed look - a look of hurt and anger, something similar to the face he made when Oedipus told him of his escape plan. But worse.
Oedipus thought for a long time.
He loved Heracles still. Despite it all. Regardless of how Heracles felt.
He loved Heracles.
It hurt.
Oedipus did not wonder why no one came to take him from his room. And when everything goes wonky and then black he could not possibly know the reason.
But when the Acheron burns it burns well.