Work Text:
A light shone in the living room, the pale glow drawing him forward. Even in his current state, thoughts hazy and steps unsteady, Hades knew there was something wrong. He had left the entire estate in darkness for a reason, wandering familiar halls in the shadows to mask his shame. He would never have left the light on in a room he couldn’t stomach to be in.
He pushed open the dark oak doors with a great heave, leaning against them for support as he examined the room. In his jumbled thoughts, he had considered that a shade might have turned them on, one of his servants cleaning at this godforsaken hour, for some reason. What he did not expect to find was a full audience, five pairs of eyes staring up at him as though he were the star of the show.
The look of heartbreak on Hestia’s face made him consider that, perhaps, he was the star of the show.
“What is this?” Hades demanded, eyes snapping between each face, hoping to discern some level of guilt out of their expressions. Breaking and entering, a silly prank , anything. But he came up blank, his powers of observation numbed by the bottles of brandy he’d downed that evening. He wasn’t even sure how many.
“Your coping mechanisms clearly haven’t gotten any better.” Hera replied immediately. Curse her . “This is an intervention, Hades.”
“For what?” He snapped immediately. He knew what. Curse them all .
“You’re drunk , my love.” Persephone replied, her warm brown eyes brimming with tears. “I’ve been gone only a few weeks, and it’s gotten out of control again.”
Hades sidestepped into the room, back pressed against the wall as the door swung shut. Was this how mice felt in a trap? He felt like a cornered animal, heart beginning to thunder in his chest. “So you summoned the rest of my family here to mock me?”
Persephone recoiled like she had been slapped, and guilt welled in his throat.
“Hades, we aren’t here to mock you.” Hera said sternly, perched perfectly on his sofa, so put together. Hades loathed her for it, always the better twin, the smarter one, the one who didn’t fall apart. “We know you’re hurting. I thought we had solved this years ago, after Zagreus died--”
“ Don’t .” Hades hissed, wincing.
“It was painful, Hades, and you’re still in pain now. I wish I had realized it sooner, but I’m sorry. We’re here to help you now .”
“I don’t need help.” Hades insisted, shrinking back further until there was no space between him and the wall at all. He wanted to run, to curl up into a ball and escape the embarrassment, but he couldn’t. Not without making things look worse than they already did.
“What part aren’t you understanding? You’re drinking yourself into a stupor every night.” Poseidon spoke at last, glancing at the others for back up. He was leaning against the bookshelf, arms folded across his chest, expression worried. It felt wrong to see Poseidon so concerned.
“You all drink.” Hades muttered.
“Not like this. Not uncontrollably. Not to cope with basic emotions.” Poseidon said.
“How dare you…” Hades hissed. It took several moments for him to realize he was doing it again, his fingers clawing at the front of his shirt as though it restricted his breathing. His hands dropped to his side, clenched into fists. “How dare you come into my home and lecture me on what I choose to do to cope . I don’t need this. I don’t need any of you here and I want you to leave.”
“This is my home, too.” Persephone whispered. “I love you, and it kills me to see you this way.”
“I know you must think this is too little too late.” Hestia added, and the anguish in her voice grated on his ears. That was his fault. “I am so sorry it took us so long to see how badly you were struggling. But we’re here because we care about you, and because this can’t continue.”
“You have never cared about me. I don’t see why this should start now.” The words burst from his mouth before he could stop them, inhibitions blocked by the brandy, tongue faster than his mind. They packed a punch, straight to his own belly as the years of insecurity bubbled up to the surface.
Zeus was the one who spoke at last, rising from the armchair and crossing the room in three great strides. Hades hadn’t even realized he was there, and as he closed the gap between them, Hades cowered, eyes snapping shut.
“Will you look at me, Hades?” Zeus asked. There was no anger in his tone, no disdain. It caught Hades off guard, and despite his greater instincts, he glanced at his brother. Zeus nodded his approval. “Good. I can’t blame you for being angry. We came here with no warning and are forcing you to confront a hard truth you might not have accepted yet. I understand better than you think.”
Hades winced.
“There are two ways this is going to go. Either we walk out of here, drop the whole thing, and you continue down this path of reckless, self-destructive behaviour. You win, I guess. You can do what you want then.” Zeus paused, and Hades trembled. “Or we help you get sober. We get you through this pain, and you come out the other side a better man for your wife and kids.”
Hades continued to shake, unsteady on his feet - but whether that was from the alcohol or Zeus’ words he couldn’t be sure. He was barely holding it together. He could feel every ounce of composure he had left slipping away, and he was grabbing at it with shorn, bloody hands.
“The choice is yours.” Zeus continued. “But in order to do that, I need you to do one thing for me, okay?”
Hades hesitated, words trapped in his throat. He nodded.
“I need you to look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me you don’t need this. Tell me you’re fine, and we’ll walk back out that door. No questions asked.”
Hades saw the look of shock on Hera’s face out of the corner of his eyes, but he dared not look away from Zeus. A bitter laugh, so unlike him, burst from his mouth then. Zeus was really going to let it go that easy? A simple phrase for an escape from this humiliation?
“I don’t need this.” Hades slurred, staring straight into his brother’s eyes. “I’m fine.”
Zeus nodded slowly. “Yeah?”
Hades clenched his jaw. “Yeah.”
“Okay.” Zeus said simply.
Hades had never been able to lie to Zeus.
And then the dam burst. Hades felt the waters swelling, the centuries of hurt and despair, the insecurity and fear, all of it came rushing to the surface. It was an ache so profound, he struggled for breath , chest seizing with the weight of it. His lips trembled, reaching up to grab at his t-shirt for relief. His eyes welled with tears.
“I c- can’t.” Hades gasped, the tears spilling down his cheeks. His head swam, and Zeus caught him as he wobbled. “Zeus, I– I don’t- I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”
“Its okay.” Zeus hushed him, tugging Hades into a bone-crushing hug. Hades collapsed, and every ounce of pain, every unbearable, raw emotion he had ever felt was poured into the sobs that wracked his body. Zeus held him through it all, and that only made things so much worse.
It took ages for him to come down, and when he did, his head was pounding, his body shaking with exhaustion, woozy and nauseous. Zeus released him only when he pulled away, and cupped his cheek briefly as he went.
“I think you need to rest.” Zeus said sternly, and Hades bobbed his head in agreement, sniffling. “Let’s get you cleaned up and to bed. We can talk more in the morning.”
His wife, his kind, gentle, adoring wife stepped forward then, Hestia at her heels. He’d almost forgotten they were there, and a spike of shame struck him. Persephone stood on her toes to cup his cheeks, leaning up to kiss him on the nose. Hades bit back a whimper, and let her and Hestia lead him from the room, the eyes of the rest of his siblings trained on his back.
No one said a word as they moved upstairs, both his hands clasped in theirs. Persephone pushed open the door to their bedroom, one she had not slept in for weeks, and guided him to the bed. Hestia released his hand and hurried into the bathroom, returning a few moments later with a glass of water.
“Drink this,” She commanded softly, and Hades did not hesitate to oblige her. He drank slowly, as much as his churning stomach could handle. Persephone’s fingers wound through his hair and worked through all the tangles, humming a soft tune as she went. Before him, Hestia bent down and tugged his shoes from his feet, while Persephone moved to remove his jacket.
“I’ll leave you for now.” Hestia murmured, stooping to kiss Hades on the forehead. “See you in the morning.”
Then she left the room, the door clicking gently behind her. Hades sighed, slumping in on himself while Persephone’s fingers moved to his shoulders.
“I wish you talked to me.” Persephone whispered, the sorrow in her voice recognizable even to his drunk ears. “I wish you didn’t let this get so bad.”
“I never knew what to say.” Hades admitted in anguish, and Persephone kissed his temple.
“I know. We’re going to work on that.”
Hades groaned then, slumping back onto the pillows. Persephone followed him, resting her head on his chest. “Are they really still going to be here in the morning?”
“Yes. I’ve threatened them all.” Persephone replied, then laughed weakly. “I’m kidding. They want to be here. That’s what helping you is going to look like - You need to be prepared for them to pester you for a little while. And me too."
“I’m sorry.” He whispered after a few moments of silence, eyes falling shut. “You shouldn’t have to do this.”
“Maybe not,” Persephone said gently, rubbing circles on his chest. “But this is what you do when you love someone. You stay by their side, even when things get hard.”
“What if it’s too hard?” Hades asked miserably. “What if I can’t do it?”
“You can,” Persephone assured him, and something warm bubbled in his chest then. “I know you can. But stop fretting so much, and get some rest. I’ll be by your side all night.”
“Demeter won’t be angry you stayed with me?”
“Consider this her attempt to help you, too. She knows you need this.”
“Huh…” Hades replied quite intelligently, feeling his body beginning to cave. Sleep ached for him, and who was he to deny it?
“ Sleep , my love. These are topics for well-rested minds.”