Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

POSEIDON.

“This is the first anyone has heard from Erebus or Nyx since Ouranos was defeated,” Athena said, holding aloft the very piece of correspondence she had received from Oizys that morning. Poseidon was pretty sure the ink was smeared by tears. “Admittedly, the communication was less than satisfactory. Oizys suspects they’re recovering in private and have never felt inclined to communicate as much to anyone, even their children. But she heard Nyx’s voice this morning, and it’s worth investigating - to offer our assistance at least.”

“Because a quick hey, we’re fine, would have been too much to ask,” Ares huffed, slumping deeper in his seat, his good eye glaring down at the table.

“I’m pretty sure it’s been made obvious that our expectations mean nothing to our eldest,” Apollo replied. “Don’t get hung up on it.”

“Who will go?” Aphrodite asked. “This is the Underworld we’re talking about.”

“I’m sure if we asked Hades, he would make the trip - even just to deliver our condolences and gratitude,” Athena said.

Poseidon perked up at that, head snapping between the other members of their council in surprise. All that had transpired for his older brother - the Lethe, and the self-harming, and all the recovering that came with it - had remained unknown to the other gods. Their ignorance was not their fault, but Poseidon hardly enjoyed the idea of sending Hades out as messenger to potentially temperamental primordials when someone else could do it just as easily.

“I’ll go,” Poseidon interrupted, leaning forward in his chair. “I’m itching for something to do up here that feels useful.”

“Chaining Ouranos wasn’t enough?” Hermes fired back, brows raised.

“That’s old news,” He said. “We’re… what? Letting Nyx and Erebus know we’re appreciative and that we are happy to assist in any way we can? I’m good at ass-kissing, and I know the Underworld better than most of you. I’ll go.”

He met Demeter’s eye, who wore an expression of understanding. Let them handle this burden, and leave Hades’ fragile family out of it. He didn’t have to handle everything south of the Earth’s crust. Poseidon could do this simple task for Olympus, and for his brother.

“Sounds like it’s settled,” Hephaestus sighed, fingers tapping against the table top.

“I see no issue with this,” Athena said. “Assuming we find time to debrief on any response once you return.”

“Of course.” Poseidon raised his hands placatingly, plastering on a smile. “I’ll handle the upfront, you lot can handle whatever happens as a result.”

“All in favour?” Aphrodite asked.

Ten hands rose into the air without hesitation. That settled it, then - Poseidon would descend into the dark to handle their newest business. He was getting bored, anyway.

~

“Do you want company?” Demeter asked, halting Poseidon outside the meeting room with one of her signature stern looks. The rest of the gods filed away, some alone, others in company, their chatter drifting down the hallway. That left the two of them alone.

Admittedly surprised, though unwilling to admit as such to her face, Poseidon waved a hand dismissively. “No, it’s fine. Save yourself a trip to your least favourite place in the world.”

Demeter rolled her eyes, arms folded as she leaned against the wall. “I don’t mind. I know you’re just doing this to spare Hades the trouble.”

“So let me be a hero, and spare you the trouble too.” 

“Okay,” Demeter threw her hands up, sighing. “If you get lost down there, don’t come crying to me when you’ve finally clawed your way out.”

“Don’t worry,” Poseidon said, grinning as he slunk away. “You’re pretty low on my list of shoulders to cry on.”

~

The Underworld was a beautiful place.

Not beautiful enough to warrant Poseidon willingly giving up the sun to rule it, but beautiful enough to focus on the positives when he visited, unlike so many others. He knew it was dark and full of the dead. But it shone with the illumination of brilliant crystals and held the kind of charm that reminded him of the deepest parts of the sea where all foul things dwelled. He was intimately closer to the Underworld than most of the other gods, in that way.

He knew where he was going, too. Enough time spent pestering his only older brother meant he knew his way around well enough to avoid getting lost, as Demeter feared. Not that that was an impossible danger - only deities of the dark could travel freely between the realms of the dead and living. Anyone else had to use the entrance, and one long turn could lead a god astray. 

Still, Poseidon was unconcerned. He marched his way across the rocky expanse of the Underworld, deep into the lands of Nyx, where she and many of her children dwelled. Down there, the temperature grew cooler, the light dimmer. Nighttime was in full swing, and Poseidon fought the chill that ached to traverse his spine. 

He reached the location Oizys had spoken of - a grove of dead poplars behind the House of Nyx, where Misery had last heard her mother speak. Among the trees, Poseidon searched for a sign of the primordial Night, but found nothing. It was empty, bare, quiet as the dead. He considered calling out for her, to see if there was any chance of correspondence, but Poseidon never got the chance.

One moment, the grove was there, and the next it was not.

Sudden darkness swallowed Poseidon whole, cloaking him in an expanse of inky black. The trees, and the rocks, and the glittering gems disappeared into nothingness, a darkness so deep Poseidon could no longer tell which way was up and which was down. He stumbled, reaching out for something to anchor himself, something to ground him in the darkness, but his hands came up blank. There was nothing, nothing at all.

Minutes passed, though it could have been hours or seconds and Poseidon would not have known the difference. He tried at first to find his way back to the house, to find something to hold him steady. When that did not work, he resorted to crashing to his knees, desperate for the feel of rocky ground against his palms. He felt nothing.

Poseidon thought he might have been speaking - screaming or babbling, he could not tell. His voice too had been robbed from him, crushed away by the blanket of darkness that swallowed him.

It was maddening. It was as though the very fabric of existence had come to crush him, beating him down to something small. It was suffocating, oppressive, making his heart race and pulse pound with violence in his ears. At the same time, the darkness laid him bare. He was naked, exposed and vulnerable in the dark that held him there.

He wanted to beg Erebus to stop. Poseidon might have, for all he could tell. He knew who was behind this, without a second of doubt - but reasoning with the Underworld himself seemed an impossible task. Doing so in his state seemed even more unattainable.

“Who… goes… there?”

A voice, deep and guttural, broke the silence. Poseidon might have sobbed with relief that something, anything, could have cut through the prison he was held in. The voice was not one Poseidon had ever heard before, but he did not need to guess at who it belonged to.

“P-Poseidon,” He choked out, the sound of his own voice like thunder in his poor ears. He pressed his palms against them, hands shaking. “I came from Olympus to-”

“No outsiders. You are not welcome here.”

“Please-”

The darkness was nothing compared to what followed.

Agony, white-hot and burning, erupted across his skin. Every inch was licked away by flame, burning him deeply, the scorch an unbearable wave of anguish. Poseidon screamed, his voice reverberating in his ears, deafening him. He writhed against the rocky ground, still blind to the world around him, but painfully aware of every excruciating moment of agony that flooded his senses.

He screamed, babbled, and sobbed. He tried to formulate his thoughts, to put together a single sentence that could spare him, but no syllables could be formed on his lips. Every breath was reserved for the wailing he’d resorted to, sucked away by involuntary shrieks of pain. It was worse than anything he had ever felt. Poison, whipping, a blade to the gut - he would take all of them again if it meant freedom from his torment.

This was supposed to be an easy trip. He had volunteered to spare his brother, to do something useful. He had done so because it was not meant to be this way.

This was just his luck, wasn’t it? Try to do the noble thing, and experience Fate’s largest backhand.

Just when he thought it would not end, that he would be stuck forever in a cycle of agony, another voice broke through the sound of his own screaming.

“My love, why do you torment this soul? He is not here to harm us.”

The pain disappeared as quickly as it had come. No more anguish, no more white-hot flame. The darkness too had ebbed, leaving Poseidon in a heap on the floor of the poplar grove, chest heaving, face damp with tears.

He sat up, heart pounding. To his eye, no harm had befallen him. His skin was unblemished, his clothes intact, if only a little rumpled from the dirt. It was as though nothing had happened.

The memory of the pain still burned in his mind, though. Poseidon would not forget it so easily.

“This is one of Cronus’ brood. He is not our enemy,” Nyx spoke, her disembodied voice breathy and feminine.

“Why is he here?”

“I-I came to-” Poseidon began, breathless, shaking like a leaf in the wind. “To offer you our gratitude. To thank you f-for helping us with… him. To say we wanted to offer h-help in return.”

“We do not need help,” Erebus grumbled, his voice penetrating deep into Poseidon’s mind. “Be grateful my wife is more reasonable than I.”

“Go, Poseidon,” Nyx said. “Thank you for your kindness, but do not worry about us. Go now, before my husband changes his mind.”

Poseidon scrambled to his feet, and fled before Erebus could do just that.

~

He did not make it far.

The strength of his knees gave out somewhere just beyond the Acheron. He collapsed to the ground, blood roaring in his ears, and dug his fingers deep into the loose rocks of the riverbank. 

He was fine. He was unharmed. The pain ended, it was over, why couldn’t he get a grip?

Everything felt like it was coming apart at the seams. His body, his mind, his failing grip on control. He trembled like he never had before. Poseidon tasted bile on his tongue and felt the sting of tears, and he slammed his head into his hands as though he could shake the treacherous emotions loose. Like he could stop himself from being such a big baby.

Home. He wanted to go home, where it was warm and bright and familiar, but getting there meant getting out of the Underworld, and Poseidon didn’t know if he had that in him. He didn’t have much left in him to work with, terror and agony sapping his strength from his body.

Hades’ palace towered in the distance, though. A five-minute walk, if Poseidon hurried. 

Don’t let him see you like this, a part of his mind argued.

It’s better than staying out here, the other half countered.

Poseidon hauled himself back to his feet on shaking legs, and began the trek across the grounds towards his brother’s home. It was not the sea. It was not private. But at least Hades could get him out of there faster than he could on his own. At least Hades would not harm him.

He landed on the front step with heavy footfalls, hands curled into fists at his side. One deep breath, then another. Then, his knuckles rapped against the wooden door.

It opened less than thirty seconds later.

HADES.

Poseidon looked horrible.

That much was obvious the moment Hades opened his front door. The company was unexpected. Even more so was Poseidon’s demeanour - the paleness of his skin, the dirt covering his clothes, the way he wrung his hands and quivered on the stoop. A brief glance told Hades he was not injured; at least, not visibly so. That did little to comfort the King of the Underworld, who quickly ushered Poseidon across the threshold.

“What happened?” He asked softly, gesturing for Poseidon to follow him into the dining room. When his younger brother did not move, Hades paused and tried again. “Poseidon?”

“Oh, you know,” Poseidon said hoarsely, his voice clipped. “I was in the area.”

“Mm.” Hades raised a brow, gently gripping Poseidon by the elbow. That seemed to jolt Poseidon into motion, his body shuddering at the contact. He was moving though, which Hades took advantage of, leading Poseidon into the dining room and into one of the plush chairs. 

“I just, um -” Poseidon started slowly, wincing as though in pain. “Shit, I - I just need a ride home, Hades. That’s all.”

“Well, you’re here now,” Hades said, sliding into the seat at the head of the table, diagonal to his brother. “You might as well visit for a short while. Perhaps you can start by telling me what you were doing down here.”

Poseidon winced again, glancing away. His shoulders shook, lightly, almost imperceptible. But Hades was highly perceptive, and he had never known his brother to be so speechless, so shaken, without good reason. He tried to stifle his own alarm, keeping his expression calm and his tone neutral.

“Council stuff,” Poseidon muttered. “Said I’d do it so you didn’t have to.”

Hades raised a brow at that. “That’s thoughtful of you.”

Poseidon laughed, the abrupt sound startling Hades enough to make him jump. “Some good that did! I’m here pestering you anyway.”

“I don’t think you’re a pest.”

Poseidon released a shaky breath, the kind rife with an emotion Hades couldn’t hope to pinpoint: not without information. “Hades, something happened, and I don’t-”

A head poked through the open doorway, Persephone’s warm face peering through with a smile. “Hey, Sei! Good to see you. Is everything…?”

She hesitated, meeting Hades’ eye. A brief and subtle shake of his head was all she needed, her expression sobering some. “Why don’t I get you some tea, huh? What flavour would you like?”

“I, um-” Poseidon paused, gaze darting rapidly between husband and wife. The confusion in his gaze was undoubtedly a product of his frazzled state, and the sight shattered something in Hades’ chest. “I don’t know.”

“That’s alright!” Persephone smiled again, brilliant and kind. She could always read the situation, always knew what to do. “I think I know what you like.”

She disappeared into the kitchen, leaving the brothers alone again at the table. Hades frowned, turning his attention back to Poseidon, full and undivided. “What happened, Poseidon?”

“It’s probably stupid to be so upset,” Poseidon said bitterly, running a hand over his face. “It’s not a big deal, ‘cause I’m fine. I’m being stupid. I’m overreacting, and you’re going to think I’m such a fucking baby-”

“Poseidon.” Hades kept his voice stern, reaching out to rest a soft hand against Poseidon’s forearm. That calmed him some, his younger brother’s gaze drifting to the appendage. “You say such terrible things about me - and yourself. I could never think those things of you, so neither should you. Please… Tell me?”

The sea god took a deep breath, the tension obvious in his shoulders. And then, the dam broke.

Poseidon spilled everything; or, at least, what Hades assumed was everything. About Nyx and Erebus, about the task he had been given, about the darkness and the excruciating pain. He went on, describing everything in immense detail, his words unsteady. It was as though he could not stop, spilling every secret, every deep emotion. When he finally finished, ending on the doorstep where Hades had found him, Poseidon’s eyes shone with unshed tears.

“Oh, Poseidon…”

“I don’t understand why it happened,” Poseidon whispered. “I know he was just trying to defend himself, but it- it was horrible. It was the worst thing a person could possibly feel, and I was supposed to be grateful that he stopped? How is that - Why should I be grateful things aren’t worse? Why do people say that shit?”

His fingers gripped the edge of the table, threatening to snap the wood. Hades reached for one, unwinding it between both of his palms. “I don’t know. It isn’t very helpful, is it?”

“I was so fucking helpless, Hades. Absolutely useless. I just had to lay there and take it, and I don’t even know what I did wrong. It was like-” Poseidon’s voice broke, head shaking. His breathing grew heavier, faster, closer to panic. Hades hummed softly and squeezed his hand.

He knew what Poseidon was going to say. Hades had seen the damage firsthand - and heard about the rest, when it was worse. Poseidon’s helplessness in Troy, the suffering he endured, the cruelty of others…

“You knew that feeling,” Hades murmured. “Experiencing it again wasn’t just unpleasant for what it was, but for what it reminded you of.”

“Yeah,” Poseidon exhaled, shaking. “I couldn’t see. I was completely at his mercy. And everything just fucking hurt. Same as my master's in Troy, the bastards. Except I can’t do anything about this. I can’t make Erebus pay. I have to just - just accept that he’s going to get away with it, that he can just do this sort of thing.”

“I’m glad you’ve told me,” Hades murmured. “I cannot solve that problem for you. I can’t undo what Erebus did or enact vengeance on your behalf. But I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

“I know,” Poseidon whispered hoarsely, shoulders slumping back against his chair. “I think that’s why I came here.”

Hades offered a small smile. “What do you need from me now?”

Poseidon shrugged. “Nothing… Nothing, this was good. Helpful. I think I just need time to figure it all out, you know? Process it.”

“Of course.” Hades paused, head cocked slightly. “And you know… I think there’s someone who might understand exactly what you’re feeling, if you need to work through it.”

Poseidon’s expression morphed for a moment, from confusion to surprise to something resembling embarrassment. “...I can’t talk to Zeus about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Hades assured him. “But you could, you know. He would understand better than I could.”

“Yeah… Yeah, he would.” Poseidon ran his free hand over his face, the circles beneath his eyes profound in the dim lighting of the dining room. “I’ll think about it.”

Persephone appeared in the doorway again, her timing impeccable. She carried three mugs of tea, steaming and fragrant. Setting one down on the table before Poseidon, she slid into the seat opposite him. “Drink up. My tea works wonders.”

Poseidon chuckled, withdrawing his hand from Hades’ grasp to cup the mug between both palms. “Thanks, Seph. This is great.”

“Do we need to take care of some business?” Persephone asked, raising an eyebrow. “I’ll knock someone’s teeth in if I have to.”

Poseidon’s laughter was louder this time, more genuine, more like his usual self. “Oh, I’ve seen you in action. I know what you could do - but it’s not necessary. Not possible, more like.”

“Well, let me know. You know where to find me.”

They drank in silence, the soft sounds of sipping the only noise to break the quiet. Hades watched Poseidon carefully, searching for further signs of distress. He could tell his brother was still struggling, his quietness a testament to that. But the shaky, confused, disoriented mess he had been when he arrived seemed to have dissipated, for now.

Poseidon set down his empty mug, glancing in Hades’ direction. “Could we..?”

“Of course.” Hades turned and reached for Persephone’s hand, giving it a light squeeze. “Darling, I’m going to take him home. I’m not sure-”

“I’ll see you when I see you,” Persephone said immediately, smiling. “It was great to have you, Poseidon. Don’t be a stranger, alright?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Hades rose to his feet, circling the table to place a hand on Poseidon’s shoulder. “Ready?”

Poseidon took a deep breath and exhaled, like a release of all the tension in his body. Hades hoped he could find his peace. He hoped that peace could last. 

“Ready.”

Chapter Text

There was endless preparation that came with the arrival of a new baby.

Much had changed in all of Zeus’ years; what had once sufficed a thousand or more years ago did not meet the safety qualifications of the modern age. It all seemed a bit frivolous to him, and he was adamant against going off any deep ends while he and Hera prepared for their child. Still, it was difficult not to get lost in endless lists of the Top 10 Things You Need For Your Baby! Parenting in the modern world was no joke, all-powerful gods or not.

Everything was going to be fine. That didn’t mean the undue stress of materialism wasn’t weighing on his conscience, but they did not need to overcomplicate. He just needed to relax.

That was the mantra Zeus repeated to himself, over and over. Relax. Breathe. Take a step back. It did little to unwind his jaw, but he was fairly certain his headaches were slightly less inconvenient, so that had to be progress.

The unexpected knock at his front door threatened to undo all the very impressive self-work he had done, but Zeus kept his cool with a deep breath. His one saving grace was that Olympus didn’t receive Amazon deliveries. That may have been his tipping point.

While uncertain who he expected to find on the other side of the door, Zeus was still shocked to see Poseidon standing on his stoop. His shoulders were slightly hunched, as though the chill of the air on Olympus wasn’t staved off by the expensive-looking jacket he wore against the wind. The sheepish expression he donned did little to soothe Zeus’ mild irritation, nor his genuine surprise at finding Poseidon here, unannounced.

“Hey, Zeus,” He said simply, hands shoved into his pockets. “Are you busy?”

“Less so than usual, but still not as free as I would like,” Zeus confessed, rolling his eyes. “If you’re looking to kidnap me for the afternoon, I must insist that I’m a little too busy for that.”

“No, ‘course not. You’re a father to be - again. Wouldn’t dream of it.” Poseidon wore his regular easy smile, which might have been enough to distract him. But there was a nigh-imperceptible hesitation in Poseidon’s words, as though his breezy attitude was not as natural as it usually was.

Narrowing his gaze, Zeus held the door open a little wider. “In that case, colour me intrigued. Come in.”

Poseidon never had qualms making himself at home. Normally, he’d have let himself in without knocking, thrown his feet up on the coffee table, and demanded Zeus bring him snacks. The fact that none of the above had taken place was questionable enough, but coupled with the air of unease… Zeus had a bad feeling about how this conversation was going to go.

Had Poseidon gone and done it? Knocked Amphitrite up like they’d suggested, and now he was here to apologize for stealing Zeus’ metaphorical thunder? Curiosity ate at him like gnawing mice, but he kept himself composed enough to give Poseidon a chance to confess on his own.

“So,” Zeus said. “Is this a friendly visit?”

“Always is,” Poseidon replied, sinking onto the sofa. Feet notably absent from the table. “I just, uh… Wanted to talk to you about something, actually.”

Zeus followed his brother’s lead and sat down across the table from Poseidon. He cocked a brow, hoping it came across as mildly curious and not painfully expectant. “Go for it.”

He expected Poseidon to start talking immediately - he was never one to hold his tongue before. Instead, his brother took a long pause, worrying his lip between his teeth. Silence. Foot tapping against the ground. More silence.

“...Poseidon?”

“Sorry,” He sighed, running a hand over his face. “I… I don’t really know how to say it. This isn’t - it’s not - it’s hard. It’s humiliating, actually.”

“But you’re here,” Zeus noted. “You’ve seen me in plenty of humiliating states. I feel like it’s only fair.”

Poseidon rolled his eyes, and the sight was a relief. “You’re always going to one-up me in that category, Zeus.”

“So what have you got to lose?”

Another sigh, deeper this time, burst from Poseidon’s mouth. It took several moments for him to say anything at all, that silence creeping up again between them. The wind was audible in the quiet, every breath echoing around the room.

“How did you come to terms with what Gaia did to you when you were young?”

Oh. That certainly was not what Zeus was expecting. A stone dropped in his belly, heavy and uncomfortable. Not only for the reminder of the past; though Zeus had agreed to let bygones be bygones with Gaia, though he had come to accept that he could not defeat every enemy in a way that satisfied him, he would hardly venture to say he had found peace in its entirety. No, the implications of Poseidon’s question were equally as uncomfortable as the memory.

Something was wrong.

“It wasn’t lightly, I can tell you that much. It took centuries to even acknowledge what had happened, let alone to begin processing.” Zeus hesitated, hands fidgeting in his lap. “Poseidon… What is this about?”

Poseidon glanced away. “What made you realize it had happened, then?”

Zeus tried not to be too miffed at being ignored. Poseidon was clearly working through something. “Hera did. I confessed to her once what Gaia had done, thinking nothing of it. It took her horror to realize how… How unfair it was.”

“And what did you do with it after that?”

Zeus sighed, shifting in his seat. If this was how Poseidon was going to be, then so be it. “Ignored it, mostly. Tried to move on by pretending I was over it. Lived in fear of Gaia for millennia, unwilling to admit to myself what her harm had done. All the healthy things.”

“How do you feel about it now?”

Discomfort swirled in his belly, a sour taste on his tongue. Zeus felt leagues more comfortable addressing the past now than he ever had before, but it did not mean it was easy. The fact that he had no idea what this was about only added further insult to injury. “Not great, I suppose, but in a way that’s more manageable now. I’ve accepted that it happened and that I can’t change it. I don’t spend every waking moment dwelling on it, but they aren’t exactly pleasant memories to revisit when I do. So… Since I am doing so, I’d like to know why.”

Poseidon huffed, drawing one leg up to his chest, arms wrapped tight around it like a colossally large child. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.”

“Is everything alright?”

“Not really.”

“Did… Did something happen?” Zeus took a breath. “Were you-”

“Erebus,” Poseidon choked out, glaring down at the table. “I mean… It was different. He didn’t do to me what Gaia did to you, but it has never been so painfully clear to me that we are not the most powerful beings in existence. That we are catastrophically small in comparison, and that they get to exist without consequence.”

Zeus paused, waiting for more, trying to ignore the stirring of nausea within. When Poseidon said nothing further, still lost in thought, the younger pressed on. “Did he hurt you?”

“Define hurt,” Poseidon snorted derisively, the sound jarring and out of place. “Look at me! Not a scratch.”

“Poseidon, please… I’m trying to understand what happened.”

“I know,” Poseidon groaned, pressing his forehead into his knee. “Athena heard that Nyx and Erebus had finally stirred. I went in place of the council to offer our help. Erebus thought I was a threat, and… I’ve never felt anything like it. The worst pain imaginable and it was all in my head. When he realized who I was, there wasn’t even a lick of remorse, so… I guess my suffering was entirely inconsequential to him.”

Zeus swallowed harshly. “And you came to me, because-”

“Because Hades said you might understand,” Poseidon said at last, finally meeting Zeus’ gaze. “I feel like I’m… overreacting, you know? I’m fine. I walked away from it. But I can’t get it out of my fucking head.”

You might understand. Zeus couldn’t pretend to know everything Poseidon felt, all that he had endured, but he did know that feeling. The helplessness of being at the mercy of someone so much more powerful than you, the sense of pain so great it could tear you apart. The knowledge that your suffering was nothing to the one who harmed you.

“Gaia said exactly that to me, you know,” Zeus said, slow at first. He did not want to cause any further pain to his brother, who struggled so clearly. “Recently, I confronted her. I was looking for some sort of justice, I think, particularly if we were meant to ally with her. And you know what she said when I did?”

Poseidon shrugged, head tilted slightly.

“She told me it wasn’t personal. That my pain wasn’t about me, but something greater. I don’t know if that was meant to comfort me. It didn’t - but it did provide me with clarity I had been deeply lacking. There was nothing I could have done differently to avoid the pain, and that, I suppose, is a small comfort. It wasn’t my fault.”

Poseidon was silent for several more moments, though this wasn’t as unpleasant as before. When he did speak, his voice was quiet, unlike its regular bluster. “It’s all just… unfair, you know? Seems pathetic of me to complain about what’s fair, but I can’t help it. You didn’t get your justice. Gaia never truly paid for what she did, and even if we can all make peace with that, it doesn’t mean it’s right. Just easier, I guess. Ouranos got his eventually, but look at how much horrible shit had to happen before it did. And I know I’ll never see my justice, so I’m just stuck with this. The memory of that fucking pain.”

“That’s the curse, isn’t it?” Zeus smiled faintly. “The dealing with it is our problem and no one else’s.”

“And you know the worst part?” Poseidon asked.

“What’s that?”

“All this has done is made me realize how much shit I haven’t dealt with.”

“Ah,” Zeus laughed gently. "Of course."

"It was easy to write Troy off before," Poseidon continued, his expression hardening. "I was as human as I could get. Weaker. Less powerful. 'Course they took advantage of that. People are cruel, and they'll hurt you if they can, so they did. I figured, if I was my usual self, I'd have crushed them all to pulp."

He sighed, running a hand over his face. "Except now, I know that it doesn't matter how strong I am. There'll be someone bigger and meaner, and there will always be someone around to hurt you. Being a god didn't fix that. It didn't save you, and it didn't save me, and it hasn't saved a single fucking one of us."

Wasn't that the truth? Being the child of prophecy had not stopped Gaia's abuse. Being King of the Gods had not saved Zeus from Typhoeus, or Ouranos, or any other enemies he had faced in all his years. Sometimes surviving to be the one on top did not mean the victory was easy.

"I don't know what to do with it all," Poseidon whispered. "Now it just feels like I'm vulnerable, and- and that sucks."

"I know the feeling," Zeus murmured in return. "Safety doesn't exist the way we want it to. Not really. I think I've learned how to go on, anyway."

"You know what else?" Poseidon whispered. "It really puts into perspective all the awful things we've done."

A lump formed in Zeus' throat, his jaw clenching tighter than it had all week. There was knowing the truth, and then there was speaking it aloud. Hearing what Zeus knew deep in his chest laid so plainly was a knife to the gut.

Poseidon continued. "All the people we've pushed around and hurt. I always thought that was what it was to be us. To be powerful. Maybe it is, I don't know. But if I can feel this way, then surely everyone I've ever harmed has felt the same, if not worse. It's hard to cope with that."

"I think that's where justice has been skewed," Zeus spoke, swallowing back the lump. "We'll never see Gaia or Erebus pay in a way that may satisfy us. Humans may never see us pay in a way that satisfies them. But perhaps the best justice we can receive is knowing that the harm they caused us cannot be repeated. Perhaps committing to doing better, being better, truly changing… Maybe that's what justice is about. More hurt doesn't make the old hurt go away."

"You think that's what happened with Gaia?"

"I think so. She made a choice to save me and a choice to prevent us from further harm. That has to be change. That has to mean something."

"We've changed," Poseidon whispered. "You especially."

"I'm trying," Zeus confessed. "What you said, I… I realized that, too. I haven't stopped thinking about it for hundred of years. I can't undo the terrible things, so the least I can do is ensure I don't repeat them."

"You've done a good job." Poseidon sighed, running a hand through his unruly, long locks. "Me? I don't know…"

"So have you." There was no doubt in Zeus' words, not a moment of hesitation. The Poseidon that he'd grown up with, the hot-headed, violent young god who had wreaked havoc upon the world… That wasn't the Poseidon who sat before him today. He was not tamed, he was not calm, but he cared more deeply than anyone Zeus had ever known. That counted for something.

"I… I guess I'm trying, too."

"Good." More silence, but not uncomfortable. Zeus let that hang in the air for a moment before he continued. "I'm sorry that happened to you. We are enduring, but that does not make it easy. If I can help in any way…"

"You have," Poseidon insisted, nodding once. "This has… It's helped. I've got lots to think about, but it's nice, you know? Knowing that you get it."

"I'm glad you told me. It's nice for me too."

"Okay," Poseidon took a deep breath, letting his leg slide back to the floor. Then, he threw both feet up on the coffee table and leaned back, relaxed and more composed than he had been when he walked in. "That's about as much heart-to-heart, sappy bullshit as I can handle."

"I'm not done!" Zeus grinned, relieved to see Poseidon in better spirits. "I love you, brother."

Poseidon flushed, rolling his eyes as dramatically as he could muster. Still, the hint of a smile was there and it warmed Zeus' heart. "That's my line."

"And the weight of immense suffering is my thing. The tables have turned today."

Poseidon laughed, his usual, boisterous guffaw that only proved things were mending, more normal, less tense. "You're an idiot. You're lucky I love you too.”