Persephone walked into her rundown apartment building hand in hand with her husband. He sniffed the air as soon as the door closed, curling his lip in disgust.

"This place is filled with black mold," he said, giving her hand a quick squeeze.

She felt, strangely, young again. Inexperienced—while he had lived longer, and had experienced so much more than her. She blinked, shaking her head. "It was the only apartment my roommates and I could afford within walking distance of campus." Gently, she felt herself being pulled towards him, until her cheek was flush against his chest. His scent was smokey but not unpleasant, reminding her of a burning fire. She breathed him in. "Not anymore," he said, just above a whisper.

"No, not anymore," she agreed, looking up at him. His eyes were soft, now, reminding her of the way he used to be, before...well. Before. His arms wrapped around her back; he kissed the top of her head. She wanted to take a picture of him; he looked down at her with such tenderness, and she'd only seen anger in him over the last few hours. For all the rage he burned with, all the grief she knew he carried, there was still some tenderness in him. If she could hold him this way forever, she would. "Your mother is here," he said, tracing the line of her jaw with his finger. "Do you want me to come with you?"

Persephone thought for a moment. The last thing she wanted to do right now was speak to her mother, but she supposed it couldn't be helped. Aidoneus, however, did not need to be there. "No, Hades—"

"Stella? Holy shit, Stell!" Persephone turned her head to the sound of the voice; her roommate and best friend, Natalie, was at the top of the stairs. Persephone smiled at her. "Nat—"

"And you," Natalie growled, running down the steps, pointing at Hades. "What the hell did you do to her, you monster? " She poked his arm, utterly fearless; Persephone tried very hard not to gape at her.

Hades huffed out a low chuckle. "This a friend...Stell? "

"Damn right," Nat said, pulling Persephone back from Hades by the elbow. "The DA is here too. She's gonna kick your ass."

"I doubt it," he said, eying her cooly. Persephone could see him calculating how many years of natural life her friend had left, and she knew he was about to make a cutting remark. "Don't, Logan," she warned, lightly shoving him and rolling her eyes. "Go talk to your goons."

He only laughed louder, heading out the door with a fresh cigarette between his teeth. Persephone watched his retreating back with sadness. He was so rough now; much rougher than he used to be. Meaner. She wasn't sure how she felt about that. "What am I going to do with you, Hades?" she mused under her breath.

"Jesus Christ, Stell," Natalie said, drawing her from her thoughts. "What the hell happened?"

"I'm sorry, Natalie, I can explain—"

"Oh, yeah?" Natalie challenged, crossing her arms. "Then explain, Stell! Last night I get a call from Marie saying that you're on the news being taken to Empire General after paramedics found you in a literal pool of freaking blood—and then—then I try to call Empire General this morning when the power comes back on, and then—the receptionist is freaking the hell out, saying you discharged yourself and your husband picked you up—and then your freaking mom bursts into our apartment at 6:00 in the goddamn morning, soaking wet—just, what the ever-loving fuck, Stell?"

Persephone pursed her lips, unsure of what to say. What could she say?

"Well?" Natalie asked, expectant. "I mean, husband? What, did you elope with Logan Black in some weird, ritualistic blood sacrifice? Like, what the fuck?"

Persephone bit the inside of her cheek. Natalie was off...but not too far off. "No, Nat."

"Okay...so what happened to you last night? Why were you in a pool of blood? You know, the news is saying it's mob related. And...I did some digging on your freakishly tall boyfriend before the storm cut the internet and power. You know his real last name is Astarita?" Natalie pinched the bridge of her nose, moving her fingers underneath her glasses. The picture of complete exasperation. "Jesus, Stell—did you realize you're dating an actual Cosa Nostra boss? "

There she was, feeling young again. Naive. Human. It vexed Persephone, reminding her of the days when she was Kore, and only Kore. She'd long since grown out of that, and yet those feelings refused to leave her alone. "I might have...figured that out a while ago, yeah."

"Before your date with him last night."

Persephone winced. "Yes."

Natalie sighed, adjusting her glasses. "Your taste in men is literal dogshit, sis. Like, are you on drugs or something? He kills people, Stella! Like, for a living!"

The air around them became thick; so thick, it was difficult for Persephone to catch her breath. The seconds slowly dragged on and the two women stared at each other. Persephone wanted to tell her everything, but the words caught in her throat every time she opened her mouth.

Natalie had been there for her for every heartbreak she endured as Stella Porter; she'd been a shoulder to cry on every moment Stella broke down, hurting from the rampant racism and sexism she dealt with on a daily basis at ECU. Nat didn't always understand, but she was always present, and now Persephone couldn't even give her a proper explanation. How could she? It was too much; an incredible burden to place on Natalie. She didn't deserve that. "Nat—"

"You're not going to tell me, are you?" There were tears in Natalie's gray eyes, threatening to fall. She didn't let them. "Just give me this one thing: he didn't hurt you, did he? Like, he's not the reason EMS had to get you, right?"

Persephone shook her head. "No, Natalie…" But even then, that answer felt like a half-truth. As Stella Porter, she did run from him; she ran from a man who believed he was Hades, and she had fallen in the snow, breaking her ankle severely. She ran from his violence: she had been terrified of him, terrified of how he had grabbed Hunter—Zagreus, their son—so forcefully and easily. Would he do the same to her? She had to run away; she had no other choice.

"...Okay," Natalie said, wiping her eyes with her sweatshirt sleeve. Persephone winced once again; she could tell Natalie didn't fully believe her. Another relationship, permanently changed. "C'mon, your mom is here."

As they stepped into their apartment, Persephone felt the air turn frigid. Her friend stood next to her, frozen—both unhearing and unseeing—and Persephone frowned, waving her hand in front of her friend's eyes. "Really, mother?"

"Seems he got his stink on you. Quite unfortunate that he smells like lilac now, while you smell like fire-ash."

"Perhaps that smell is coming from the burning cigarette in your mouth, mother." Persephone crossed her arms, watching the elder goddess carefully as she stared out the window down to the street below. Demeter was wearing one of Stella's interview suits, Persephone realized. She narrowed her eyes. "Why are you here, mother?"

"Why, to check in on you, my daughter," Demeter said, tossing a disinterested look over her shoulder. "And to convince you that this is a fool's errand."

Persephone sighed. "Not anymore foolish than plunging Hellas into a bitter winter when—"

"My brother—your husband," Demeter hissed, spinning on her heel, "is a fool. Have you not suffered enough for him? Have you not seen the man he's become?"

Persephone ignored her mother's question, though it pierced her heart all the same. She did see who he'd become, and it pained her. There was still tenderness in him, though it troubled her that he had buried such parts of himself so deeply. "All I wanted was my son, and Aidoneus did what he thought was necessary." Without her, and at such great cost. She balled her fingers into fists.

"Aidoneus? Is that what he goes by now?"

"It is what he has always gone by, mother. You know this."

"Tch. Don't say that name to me," Demeter warned, looking back outside. "That man is long gone. You would do well to remember that fact, daughter."

Persephone knew that her mother was staring at Hades down below; she could feel the hate radiating off her mother, the utter contempt she had for him. "After all these years," Persephone said, shaking her head, "you still hate him."

Demeter laughed, burning her cigarette out on the windowsill. "Of course I do. He wasn't satisfied with taking you from me for half the year; instead, he made a pact that not only resulted in his death, but yours as well. And your fathers'—and countless others. All for that dreaded boy spawned of his cold, cursed seed—"

"Don't talk about my son like that," Persephone warned. Her palms tingled, crackling with energy: the power to call forth life...and the power to bring forth its destruction.

"He is my grandson!" Demeter said, nearly shouting. "I care for him as such. I've loved him longer than you will ever know."

Persephone exhaled harshly from her nose. The power she felt in her hands was beginning to burn the skin of her palms. She needed to reign herself in, and quickly. "If you care at all for him, you will not talk about my son as if he is an ill omen."

"Is he not? He is an aberration. And yet I do love him, because he comes from you." Demeter sighed, stepping away from the window. Her bright green eyes shone fiercely in the mid-morning light; the same eyes Persephone had, and the same eyes Zagreus had. Three generations. Persephone's heart hammered; she desperately wanted to see her son again. "You and Hades are not the only ones who have suffered for his exceedingly poor choices."

"I'm keenly aware, mother," Persephone said, pressing her teeth together.

Demeter stared at her, keen eyes boring directly into hers. "Do you love him? Even after all this time—even as he is now?"

Persephone blanched, stunned. "Of-of course I do."

Demeter smiled, ancient and wise. Persephone hated that smile; it made her feel like a child again. Once, when Persephone was very young, she had found a beehive and accidentally disturbed the colony. She only wanted to play and make friends with the bees, but the little creatures had not been interested. A few had stung her, causing her face to swell up. Demeter had told her to leave them alone—for though she was a goddess, she did not have dominion over them—but of course Persephone hadn't listened. When she returned, her face swollen and tears running down her childish cheeks, Demeter had smiled at her in that same way. It had been a hard lesson. "You hesitated."

"I did not," Persephone protested, hugging herself. Of course she loved him! He was the father of her son, her husband and lover—had been, for millennia! As a mortal, she loved him across the ages, feeling drawn to him each cycle, each time they were born anew. It had always been that way, since the day she had first met him in her garden.

"You did."

"I love him, mother." Yes. She nodded to herself. Yes, she loved him. She could not deny that. But...he was different now—and she could not deny that, either. Stella Porter liked the fantasy of Logan Black: his suave elegance, and the unmistakable promise of danger lying just beneath the surface of his mischievous smile. But Persephone? She liked the reality of Hades: his sense of duty and honor, his graciousness towards his servants and subjects. Now, though, he was frightening to her...when he had never been so before. But she did not fear her husband; rather, she feared for him. "There is pain in him now that even I cannot soothe. And he has so much rage inside of him...that rage frightens me." She thought of Thanatos; of how Hades ran him through, savagely and effortlessly, and she thought of the memories of killing she saw in Hades' embrace. There was regret in those memories...but oftentimes, there was a dark glee, too. She shuddered. He enjoyed killing, even as it repulsed him. Yes: he was different now.

"Hmmph." Demeter stepped in front of Persephone, placing a hand on her cheek. "It is not your job to fix him, daughter."

Persephone nodded. She knew that; had learned that fact early on in their marriage, when he would wake up in cold sweats muttering to himself; and he would refuse to tell her what was wrong, instead choosing to storm off and spar with one of the hundred-handed, or begin his daily tour of the realm early. She swallowed hard, realizing something she had long ignored: he had been running from her, even then, all those years ago. Maybe he wasn't so different now, after all.

He never talked about his nightmares, but she could see and feel glimpses of them, when his control slipped. It was always the same: a large mouth; gnashing, sharp teeth; landing in boiling stomach acid as a newborn infant—and isolation. Persephone shut her eyes. She loved him, but she could not fight his battles for him. "I've never tried to fix him."

"Daughter, daughter. You may be able to fool yourself, but you cannot fool me." Demeter looked down at her. "So you've chosen him again, have you?"

"I will always choose him, mother."

Demeter shook her head, smiling sadly. Disappointment drew across her features, ancient and all-too-familiar. "When you return—and you will return—you both will be my enemy."

Persephone swallowed. "You would fight with the New Gods against your own kin?"

"If it means you are mine again, I will do anything. The New Gods, the human laws of this country—anyway I can, won't hesitate to destroy him, and to bring you back to me. I've done it countless times before."

"Countless times before…" Persephone cocked her head to the side. "What do you mean?" Her eyes widened with sudden clarity; the gunman! "Mother, you didn't—"

"Stupid girl!" Demeter said, acerbic and cruel, "I did it to keep you safe! You've seen just how twisted he's become. Don't act so shocked. It was a fitting end."

Persephone twisted away from her mother's grasp. The image of Logan—of Aidoneus—being shot and bleeding out in the snow burned hot in her mind. "You had him killed," she said, her words coming out strained. The power in Persephone's hands was starting to scald her skin now; she clenched her teeth.

"Yet he's still alive, regrettably."

"Mother."

"I've given you freedom, haven't I? I've let you live with these two idiot women—I even allowed Henry to get close to you, and other men besides—and yet you still choose him? Why, Kore? Why? Why can't ever you be happy with me and the life I have planned for you? "

Persephone thought about Aidoneus' words on the first day they met, whispered lovingly into her ear and kissed softly upon her lips. 'We are meant for each other,' he said. There had been truth in those words: a certainty that she felt in her bones and flesh as he held her. She couldn't deny it then, and she couldn't deny it now. "We are meant for each other," she answered, simply, walking away from her mother. She hugged Natalie, whose frozen body began to arouse to consciousness at her touch.

"I'll be gone for a few days, Nat," she said. "Take care of Marie."

Natalie blinked at her, confused and groggy. "Uh…"

"Don't worry about me, okay? Never worry about me." Persephone hugged her once again. "I promise I'll explain everything when I come back. I promise."

"Stell, what…what's your mom doing here?"

"Don't worry about her, either. She was just leaving." Persephone let Natalie go, turning back to Demeter. "Goodbye, mother."

Demeter smiled, and it was not the kind smile of her mother. "Think carefully about my question, daughter: do you love him? Is this really where you want to draw a line in the sand?"

"I do," Persephone said, looking over her shoulder. "And it is."

Demeter's smile only widened, turning into an unpleasant sneer. "Until next we meet, daughter. Think on it."

And so, Persephone thought. She watched her husband as she walked toward him outside, how his ears perked up at the sound of her footsteps, and the easy smile that grew on his face as he turned to look at her. That smile she'd seen so many times before, reserved only for her, even in the old days. She loved him; she did.

She loved the way he held her in his lap, the steady strength of his heartbeat calming her as she placed her palm over his hard chest. Her hands were still burning from her encounter with her mother, untapped power begging to be released, so she pushed some into him. His pupils dilated and his jaw clenched tightly; she could tell he had to stifle a moan. She giggled, causing his gaze to shift to her.

"Continue with your teasing, wife, and I will have you in this car," he said, speaking to her in the old tongue. There was a wicked twinkle in his eye, which she much preferred seeing over anger or grief.

"In front of those two?" she asked him, wiggling her ass over his groin. He leaned his head back against the seat and shut his eyes for a moment. She ground herself against him again, earning herself a hitched breath from him. "Come now, Hades, we both know you're not much of an exhibitionist."

He chuckled, and she loved the sound of his laugh; his real laugh. It was warm and joyful, reminding her hot chocolate on a cold winter day. A very Stella-like thought, Persephone mused. She had to admit that they had both changed greatly. "I did say you could teach me all sorts of new tricks," he said, pressing his forehead to hers.

"And I said that I could make these next few hours very uncomfortable for you," she teased.

"Aye, and you've certainly kept your word." He rocked his hips against her to emphasize his point. She laughed, kissing his neck. "Maybe if you're good enough, I'll help you feel better," she whispered into his ear. "I've always wanted to join the mile high club."

He shuddered. "I can wait until we get home."

"Can you?" She wiggled her ass on him again, and she felt his grip grow tighter around her waist and thighs.

"Hmmm," he said, shutting his eyes. "Perhaps not."

When they arrived at the airport, he wrapped his arm over her shoulders, and she welcomed his warmth. She saw their reflection as they walked towards the entrance, and she smiled. They were together now, no matter how much each of them had changed. Yes; this is the line she would draw in the sand. There could be no other way.