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Odysseus stared back at his son, tiny arms reaching to grab his nose. It was a habit the child had taken up, squeezing people's noses and giggling as he did so. It was something Odysseus used to do too according to Laertes.
And he was going to leave this child, leave his son, for years, years. The thoughts made him want to hurl. His son.
Remember Me.
He sang softly, unknowingly hugging the baby closer to him, knowing this would be the last time he'd get to hold his son as a baby, a child.
Though I have to say goodbye, remember me.
This, Odysseus would go on to decide, was the hardest thing he would ever have to do, because what father would leave his son in favor of the horrors and dangers of war? For pain?
Don't let it make you cry.
The man gently rocked his son, shushing his whines and dropping a kiss on his forehead. Savoring every. Single. Moment
For Even if I'm far away, I hold you in my heart.
Odysseus knew. He knew this moment would weigh upon his shoulders, add another unnecessary burden to them, until the day he died. He knew that this child would consume his thoughts, his dreams until the day he returned.
I sing a secret song to you each night we are apart.
He kissed his son again, then again. Once on his cheek, and again on his nose. The child giggled, laughing in such a way that Odysseus smiled, kissed his son again.
Remember Me.
It wouldn't be wrong to say that Odysseus was scared. Would this tiny thing resent him or would he miss him? And the worst part was, Odysseus wasn't sure which of those would be the better.
Though I have to travel far, remember me.
The door opened, causing Odysseus to tear his gaze from his boy for the first time. His wife, his Penelope, all but rushed her face into his neck, stroking their son's face with her hand, throwing another hand across Odysseus's waist.
Each time you hear a sad guitar.
The child -the sweet, sweet baby- made a face of curiosity. Odysseus continued swallowing the lump in his throat, kissing Penelope.
Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be.
He looked straight into Penelope's eyes, finding tears in hers, and his own blurred as well, the moment broken when Telemachus made a sound -as if he wanted Odysseus to keep singing to him.
Until your in my arms again.
He closed his eyes, opening them only when he felt that brilliant feeling of Penelope's lips on his. Somewhere in there, he'd begun holding Telemachus to his face, his elbow resting on his beloved's shoulder. She didn't seem to mind.
Remember Me.
He placed another sweet kiss on the baby's soft, young skin, cradling him closer to his chest.
"Please." He whispered. Please remember me. Please don't hate me for this. Please.
A sob escaped him he buried his own face in Penelope's hair, dampening her scalp with his tears, as she buried her own face in his neck and dropped few tears there.
He didn't let go of Telemachus, or Penelope, at least not until the knock on the door told them their limited time with each other was over.