Work Text:
Zagreus' room was a mess. The chaos had originally started when he was young and his father stopped entering his room to spare himself the aneurysm. It had devolved into an untameable clutter ever since, and the two times he had hauled everything together, (both at the insistence and with the help of his closest friend Thanatos,) it just cleared an empty canvas for his next chaos.
The second and last time Thanatos had helped him get things in order was two years ago and again his room had devolved into the unfixable. Zagreus didn’t mind actually. It was odd, but he felt comfortable in the chaos and unorganized, it was one of the few things in his life he had the ability to decide for himself.
Or well, one of the few things his father didn’t have the ability to decide for him. Back when he still cared about what Zagreus did in his freetime, or at least cared enough to focus all his energy on ‘fixing’ Zagreus’ bad habit, Hades used to stand in his doorframe, watching Zagreus; every move as the small child dragged himself across the room to make it barely resemble the shape of a clean room.
It was terror. Everytime, it started Hades yelled at Zagreus, berating him, making him stand on his feet as he told him the million reasons he was useless, and then he watched as Zagreus tried to heap together his belongings, and tried not to cry while doing it. The nausea from the memories, the panic of seeing his father stand there now has made him throw up in the past. He wanted to throw up right now actually.
His father stood there, gaze flitting over the mess in great disapproval. Hot shame burned in Zagreus, but the vindication from seeing his father frown soothed that.
“You have so much time on your hand, yet you can’t find it in you to declutter?” His father huffed, oddly calm. That didn’t mean Hades was in a good mood, it simply meant that he found something else to be angrier about right now. Zagreus could somewhat imagine what it was and only waited for Hades to bring it up.
“I am talking to you, boy. You may have no sense, but your hearing should be alright.”
Zagreus was sitting in his working chair, having had his laptop closed abruptly so his father didn’t see him working to clean up the latest video material Pat sent him. It’s not like his father didn’t know, just that seeing might aggravate him even more.
Instead of looking up at the man who put him in the world, Zagreus was staring at the only spot in the room where the floor was still unobscured. Everywhere else lay papers, clothing and other objects around. His guitare was splayed over his bed, which was part of the reason why he had spent the last month sleeping on his couch. If Zagreus was honest with himself, it was unlivable and he should’ve tried to clean up at least a bit. But it was impossible, the lethargy that overcame him every time he tried to start, the way his knees grew weak, the tears that gathered in his eyes, unspilled, were too much.
Zagreus remained steadfast and silent in his seat.
He couldn't let his father win, and knowing that starting the verbal argument would lead to Hades gaining the upper hand, he instead clamped his lips shut.
"Your room is a pigsty."
That hurt. He tried to pretend it didn't, but it hurt so much. Zagreus wasn't even sure why, what did he want his father to see in the mess? Did he want him to see some modern art project in the chaos? Well he didn’t want to be called a pig, the involuntary images that convulsed in his mind based on that hurt.
"Are you just going to ignore me? I am confronted with all this-" Hades swung his arm around, pointing at the mess. "- and you deem it not enough of a mess to at least clean up? To at least pretend you care?"
"You could've just stayed out…" Zagreus pressed out, teeth gritted painfully.
The second he whispered those words he felt as if an egg was cracked on his head. The blood in his veins went frigid and all the tension in the air sizzled to a stop.
"Stay out?" Hades growled low, calm, before his fist hit the doorframe. There wasn't a door anymore, Zagreus doesn't remember there ever having been a door.
"I- I didn't-" he stammered, throat knotting up, eyes swimming in salty tears and nails burrowing where he was crossing his arms.
"This is my house, and you tell me to stay out?! You are a jobless, idiotic parasite and now you tell me to mind my own business?" His father roared, looming in the door frame.
Zagreus shrunk in his seat, trying to hide as much of himself as possible, letting his wild hair fall into his face to hide the hot tears trailing down his face right now. He was so angry. He knew he didn't deserve the love or understanding of his father, he was a pest, but he couldn't help but be so horribly angry. At least he could say he had a job, even if his father deemed it barely an occupation.
"Nothing? You're just gonna stay silent? Ever since you started spending all your time running after that amateur-cook, you have completely lost touch with reality."
That snapped something.
"It doesn't matter!" Zagreus yelled, unsure what he was even referring to.
Whatever I do, no matter what I say, silence, yelling, pleading, crying, accusing, understanding, promising, you hate it all so I thought I might as well spare you all of this as you yell at me for a thousand times and nothing changes! I hate you! I hate you I hate you I hate you!
He wanted to scream that all at his father. Wanted to spit it in his face. Wanted him to know how bitter he was, his father might be cruel, but he was no fool, surely he would understand how horrible everything was if he just listened. But before Zagreus could get in the needed breath to say anything, Hades interrupted him.
"Is that it? It doesn't matter? Because you'll get away with it?"
His fathers voice was calm, but cold, vicious, and it opened a pit in Zagreus' guts.
"I refuse to house a meager unthankful leech, boy."
There was a noise in his mind, like glass shattering into a million pieces. A record scratch. Bones breaking.
And in the room there was silence.
"Are you- you-"
Zagreus was still looking at the floor. He didn't want to look at Hades. There are things that are irreversible. Things you couldn't take back. And Zagreus realized that this was one of these things. No matter what he did, no matter what Hades did, this moment would never leave. This act would be forever a blemish on their horrible father-son relationship.
"You heard me, make with that what you will."
He looked up and Hades was gone. It was hard to gauge how long he sat there, crying, trying to process what had just happened. And when he stood up, to do something, maybe clean, maybe fix everything that just went wrong, maybe turn over a leaf and try once again to be papa’s perfect son, he felt himself go boneless and collapse onto the couch.
He grabbed the blanket, pulling it over his head, and screaming in earnest. Ugly crying had always been something Zagreus loathed, so instead of sobbing like a little child, he screamed like a lunatic, dampening the sounds in mild fear that his father might come back for seconds.
By the time he was done his throat felt sore and his head spinned, as if it was a balloon underwater trying to swim up, tugging at his neck to just let go.
Zagreus packed his things mindlessly grabbing his personal belongings, his laptop, everything. He even went into his father's room without asking, making a mess of the little box that stored all their papers to get his own stuff.
He didn’t remember what he even packed by the end of it. It was odd how the only thing he could remember was worrying over how he’s going to edit the video for next week when he doesn’t have a stable connection.
Once he stood in the hallway, about to leave and never look back Hades cleared his throat, waiting in a room adjacent to the little lobby area in their home. Their- No, Hades' home.
Zagreus turned around, looking at Hades, and the man must’ve seen the glimmer of hope his eyes held, the faintest idea that maybe this is it. Maybe this is the last time they fight. Maybe this is how it all changes for the better.
“Keys.”
Hades' palm was stretched out, asking for Zagreus' pair of house keys and just like that, the last bit of hope was diminished, never to be rebuilt or rekindled.
Zagreus fumbled with his keyring, feeling hollow, dropping them on a nearby stand instead of approaching his father ever again before he left for good.