AN- Still do not own Hadestown, sadly. Let me know what you think so far! I'm on the last chapter or so, just trying to figure out which ending I want out of the two I have mostly planned out!

Hades rushes to the garden quickly, panic slowly starting to set in after he fails to find his wife anywhere else. She was supposed to be checking out the new kingdom, but none of the guides he had placed around have seen her. The last the castle servants saw of her, she was going into the songbird's room. What was she doing in there? Hades is no fool, he knows Hermes has ways of leaving the underworld without detection. He's driven himself mad before, thinking that Persephone will leave without returning. Demeter would gladly stow her away somewhere, Zeus not caring enough to press the issue. It's part of the reason he built the wall. If she was trapped, she might be less happy, but she's still his. He's selfish, he knows, but he never saw himself able to cope without her. She has always been his other half. Not completing him as she once explained since, apparently, he was whole already, but two sides of the same coin, a perfect match. He didn't know what she was talking about, but he just agreed and went with it. In his opinion, there is no him without her. There is no point without her.

"Persephone," he breathes a sigh of relief as he sees her sleeping in the secluded corner he squared away for her.

He rushes over as quickly as he dares, careful not to make too much noise. Her hand must have fallen off the bench, a small cluster of pomegranate flowers grows across the water, circling around her hand. He doesn't know whether to wake her for dinner or sleep, but he doesn't really think about it much.

We'll try again next fall.

The words seem plausible to him for nearly the first time since they both agreed to try. He loves his wife more than he ever thought possible, even now, though he doubts she'll believe him if he tells her. She'll smile and kiss his cheek softly when he says it, replying in turn, but it never reaches her eyes. Not anymore. When her damned mother showed her alcohol can make all of her problems fade away, if only for a while, he knew he lost her. Not that he didn't push her away with his constant nitpicking. He sighs, kneeling on the ground near the bench, giving her a few minutes to see if she'll wake.

He studies her face, noting the fact the stress seems to completely disappear when she sleeps. She normally sleeps fitfully, but that's probably due to the fact that she's drunk and laying by him. She's always jumpy around him these days, even though she usually manages to hide it. She wears her damn curtesy like armor, and he has yet to find a weak point. She denies him nothing, but she gives nothing either. He can barely remember the fiery goddess who waltzed into the underworld, wandered into his throne room, and announced that his home was too dreary. She started making suggestions about decor, flowers, and ways to make his people happier. Apparently she could hear their complaints through the ground and she had had enough. He remembers that she rendered him speechless and that he knew he would never want anyone except her his entire life.

He finds himself nearing the bench, even though he knows he should let her rest. They have a lot of work to do the next few months. She does, however, need to eat he reasoned with himself. He places his hand gently on her waist. Her eyebrows twitched, her face contorting into something dangerously close to pain. Now that he's close enough and concentrating, he sees the tears slipping down her cheeks. She's fast asleep, but by the small puddle of water on the bench where her head lays, she's been crying for some time.

"Persephone?" He shakes her gently, crawling closer. He feels his knees sink into the mud, water quickly filling the indents quickly, soaking through his slacks. "Lover, it's dinner time."

"Hades," she chokes out softly, clenching her eyes tightly together.

"I'm here. Are you having nightmares again?" He frowns slightly, wiping away the tears left on her cheek. "I-"

She shoots up as soon as his hand makes contact with her face, her fingers wrapping tightly around his wrist. Her eyes are wide and wild, her face flushed. He can tell he caught her off guard, mostly because this is the first time in over a decade he's seen her express raw emotions around him. True, fear is about the last thing he wanted to see from her, but it's something. Something they need to work on, of course, but it's still something.

"Lover," she smiles tightly after a moment, eyes returning to their usual glazed over stupor. "You're home early, lord husband. I'm terribly sorry for sleeping during our short time alone. Thank you for waking me."

"What were you dreaming about, lover? There were tears," Hades pointed out, obviously, carefully dropping his hands. She would never ask him to move them, but he can tell she doesn't like it.

"I'm homesick, my love," she explains carefully, knowing that he'll assume she misses her mother's home. In truth, she misses the home she once built with her husband, but she has no idea how to put that into words. Not properly. "It won't happen again. I'll take my tonic so I no longer dream. I'm sorry that you had to see that."

"Stop apologizing," he shakes his head, standing quickly. He offers her his arm, trying his best not to let his temper take over. He understands that she's just scared to reach out again. She's tried to work on them. Now, it's time to show her that he's willing to try. If she sees that he's stepping forward, maybe she'll start to step forward again. "I have a surprise for you, lover. I know I told you that we would have dinner alone, but sullen silence doesn't sound... ideal."

"I'll speak whenever you wish, about whatever you would like to talk about it," she promises, taking his arm as she stands, a small frown flitting across her face as she reaches down to tug on his slacks. "You shouldn't have kneeled to wake me, Hades. Your pants are filthy."

"We have servants to clean them," he points out, leading her inside. He opts to ignore the passive aggressive promise, taking a deep breath as he leads her to the dining room. "Do you wish for me to change before dinner?"

"If our guest won't mind it, I see no problem," she stares straight ahead, not daring to look at him. "It wouldn't be the first dinner we've eaten with mud on our clothes."

"That is true," Hades laughs, remembering their many hours working the garden, tracking mud everywhere as they walk in. "As for our guest, she won't mind a bit of mud. Besides, it's you she's wanting to see. She sees me much too often for her taste."

"She?" Persephone muses, keeping her voice empty as her heart sinks in her chest.

She knew who it was before the door opened. She took a deep breath, thankfully missed by Hades, and smiled as widely as she could as the servants open the door to the dining room.

Eurydice.