Trigger Warning: Alcohol

All of this *gestures vaguely* doesn't actually happen (except the tail end of this conversation), but I'm starving for Than/Meg interactions because they're canon friends, but do they canon talk? I'm starving. And drunk pouty Than, of course.

Thanatos doesn't know how to face Zagreus.

Anger burns hot, then burns out. Since the encounter in Elysium, the embers have been slowly fizzling out.

Thanatos once again finds himself doubled over on the southwest balcony, trying to steady his shaky breathing. This has been happening far too often, these stupid, entirely pointless panic attacks. His brain is determined to remind him at every opportunity exactly how he'd acted like an impulsive, emotional idiot. He is a god, he is above petty human emotion.

But every time he feels a pull toward some chamber in the Underworld - no doubt the prince in the middle of another escape attempt - the memory of Zagreus' face and the fearful look in his eye from their most recent encounter in Elysium burns into his brain. It makes his head pound and freezes him in his tracks.

He wants to see Zagreus, he really does. Because… what if Zagreus does it this time? What if he finally escapes this time and he's whisked away to Mount Olympus forever, and Thanatos never gets to see him ever again? Would Zagreus miss him? What if Zagreus wouldn't miss him because they've been so … bad lately?

If he didn't hate you before, he definitely hates you now , an insidious voice echoes in his mind. Did you see the way he looked at you? He was afraid -

"Than." A quiet, raspy voice drags him from the depths of his worry. He glances over his shoulder to find a familiar blue-skinned Fury standing a respectful distance behind him, arms crossed across her chest, lips pursed in concern.

His headache fades at the sight. Part of him is angry and ashamed that she's here like this, perceiving him like this. The other part of him is grateful that she's just lifted what feels like the weight of the world off his shoulders.

Meg knows him well enough to stay where she is, to let Than come to her when he's ready - if he's ready. So she waits as he rises slowly, spine unfurling as if he were stretching, until he's upright and no longer on the ground, then turns to fully face her.

"Hey, so," Meg juts her chin toward the lounge. "I seem to have free time. Care to join me for a drink?"

The corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly, and he exhales from his nose a little more forcefully. She grins.

Neither of them have been keeping track of how many drinks they've each had, which is particularly dangerous, since both of them are technically still supposed to be working. No rest for the wicked, and all that.

But the liquor keeps flowing, Lord Hades is busy with paperwork, and Mother Nyx is off somewhere, so Thanatos and Megaera let themselves enjoy a brief interlude.

"The whole thing's stupid, he's stupid for even trying to escape," Thanatos drawls. "Does he not know his own house's motto, there is no escape!"

Meg snorts at his terrible impression of their mutual boss as blasphemous as it is, and downs another shot. "Tell me about it. And he's so chipper about it, too, it's really so infuriating. Makes my job that much harder."

"It's hard to stay mad at him when he's like that, isn't it?" He says slowly, quietly. Meg would call his tone 'dreamy,' were they not inebriated. Thanatos gestures around vaguely. "He even cleaned all this up. Zag's just. He's just too…"

"Good?" Meg supplies. She sips her next shot thoughtfully. "I agree. He's too good to be stuck down here."

Thanatos doesn't say anything. He's been thinking that, too, but he was always afraid that if he actually admitted it, then the Fates would acknowledge his words and manifest them into existence.

But they already exist in a world where one day in the future, Zagreus would no longer be stuck down here. He feels his chest constrict again. He tells himself it's the alcohol.

The god of death rests his head on the table and lets out an exaggerated sigh. "He's going to go up there and realize that's where he belongs. And he'll stay up there and never see me again because he hates me."

Meg sputters. "That's what this is about? You think he hates you?"

"I thought I could learn to be okay with him hating me, but now that he actually hates me -"

"Than."

Meg coaxes his head upright. He relishes the feel of her cool skin against his flushed cheeks and tilts into her palm, but she pulls away, gripping him by his shoulders and trying to force him to meet her gaze. Her expression is stern and no-nonsense, and Thanatos could almost smile.

"I don't think Zagreus hates you."

"He does - "

"Listen!" she snaps. "Listen to me. Does your job description include trying to stop him by killing him? Have you ever actually physically hurt him ever while he's out there?"

"Well, no - "

"Because I have, Than. Even got him a few times at the beginning of this whole mess. And he still tries to cozy up to me every damn time he pops out of the Styx. Because that's how he is. That's just how Zagreus is." Satisfied, she lets go of him and leans back, regarding him thoughtfully. "He couldn't hate you even if he tried."

Meg has never seen the god of death pout before and under normal circumstances, she would be thoroughly enjoying the sight, were the cause of his poutiness not so frustrating. For someone so brilliant, he could be so dense sometimes.

"Why did you go to him the first time?" she questions.

Thanatos is silent for a while, tracing the rim of a shot glass with his finger, watching the liquid inside ripple. "At first, I was angry. I wanted to see for myself. That he was actually leaving, I mean. I was so angry, I just wanted him to know it."

"I get that. You're allowed to be angry. We're both allowed to be angry about all of this, you know," Meg points out. "It's not as if these are isolated incidents. It's affecting everyone in the House. He's not exactly a welcome face here anymore, at least by my standards."

He barks out a laugh and knocks back the shot in front of him with a grimace. "But you've seen him out there too, so you know. You know how badly he wants this. He's never wanted anything like this and I..."

He frowns and trails off, not knowing how to finish the rest of that sentence. Meg looks at him expectantly. He blinks.

Thanatos appreciates Meg and her never-failing ability to provide him exactly what he needs whenever he needs it… but he never knows what to do when she does things like this, like trying to make him acknowledge and process his feelings. Because he can't right now. He's drunk.

"You're also allowed to want things, too," she sighs. "Not everything has to be about that selfish prince, even though he makes it that way. But you should probably figure out what exactly it is you want first, Than." She rests her chin on intertwined fingers and smirks.

He furrows his brow, confused. "I said some really harsh things…"

Meg feels herself getting much more sober and much less patient. She can only handle so much of a highly inebriated, emotionally-constipated god.

"Look, Than, maybe you did act like a self-righteous prick, maybe you didn't. If you really feel that badly, all you can do now is apologize. If he'll let you. But that was then and this is now, and we have work to do…"

Oh, no. What terrible timing, Meg thinks. Thanatos' back is to the entrance of the lounge so he can't see that Zagreus is peering inside, mismatched eyes brightening at the sight of them.

"Uh, anyway, Than, I think we'd best continue this discussion at some other time," she says pointedly, flicking her gaze in the prince's direction. Thanatos, as drunk as he is, catches on quickly and sobers up immediately - perks of being a god - just as Zagreus slides into the empty seat at their table, grinning and oblivious.

An unfamiliar emotion takes root in Thanatos' stomach as he realizes that Zagreus is here, sitting with them instead of sauntering back off to the depths of the Underworld. He dismisses the feeling as a lingering after-effect of the alcohol.

"You're interrupting private conversation, Zagreus," he mutters, looking away so he doesn't have to see the pang of hurt flash across the prince's face. "Leave us."

"No, let him stay, if that's what he wants," Meg challenges, rising to her feet. She towers above the prince by a head or so, and the prince tilts his head up to match her gaze.

"What does it matter?" she continues, pink eyes flashing dangerously. "He's technically allowed within these halls, but he must know he isn't welcome anymore."

This time, it's Zagreus who leaves without a word.