A/N: I really did mean for this to be a lighthearted little thingy. Instead we got this. I'm not complaining... too badly.
May's pain took the form a child. It took the form of the son she failed. The child she lost in her attempt to protect him from the pain of his fate. It haunted her daily. In the mirror. In the dust and cracks that she failed to see over the visions of her son's death. But it was a tragedy of her own creation and for that reason, May had a hard time seeing it as anything else other than her own child.
May knew her visitor was a divinity. She always had a sense of when they were divine. She'd know Hermes for who he was the instant she saw him. It was part of why he'd fallen for her. Still knowing the being on the other side was a deity and not seeing her broken bruised son was two very different things. She'd woken up from her insanity days, months, years ago (time was still difficult). The first thing she'd instantly known was her Luke was gone… and she'd been the one to cause it.
It was hard to get out of her mind. If she hadn't… If she'd just decided to… If she been smarter… Then maybe… maybe Luke would still be here and not just the ghost haunting her reflections. She could still sense his presence, no matter how much Hermes had promised he'd led their son to Elysium himself. The visions and nightmares threatened to tear her apart. So, she had started to leave chocolate out for them.
Now she was face to face with a being that looked exactly like her lost son. Same determined eyes. Same sorrowful little face. Same determinism to get as miserable as possible. Despite the dark clear sky above them, the little child (how else could May think of a seven-year-old version of her son) was soaked, bleeding from 700 little cuts. The little one looked like the living embodiment of May's worst nightmares.
"You need to stop it," the child demanded.
"Stop what?" May asked.
They stamped their little foot.
"This!" the child demanded. May was busy wrapping the little one up in a towel and trying to warm them up. May knew enough about divinities to know that if they really didn't want to be wrapped up and mothered, then she wasn't being too forceful that they couldn't wriggle free.
Besides, if that was the case then they ought to know to choose a form other than her little Luke.
"Why not?" May asked.
Little Luke gave her a glare.
"Why aren't you miserable?"
May knew she was talking to some god. May knew she wasn't looking at her Luke. That didn't change the fact that Little Luke looked so much like her son that she couldn't stop her parental instincts from kicking in.
"Why am I not miserable? Well, because I'm with you." She smiled down at little Luke.
Little Luke seemed to shrink and blush. Little Luke turned to glare up at the night sky.
"Mommy! I'm being bullied!"
Nothing happened. If anything, the wind seemed to gently chuckle.
May looked down at the little version of her son, who appeared to be struggling to look as miserable as before.
"Would you like some Hot Chocolate?" she asked.
"No!" the little one declared at the same time their eyes widened and pleaded for the cocoa.
"Come on in," May welcomed the little one.
May was glad she had gone shopping. Granted, she hadn't had much choice. Not since she returned to sanity and discovered the moldy everything on the counters. She'd forced herself to clean everything far beyond the force of collapse.
It was worth it, if only for the image of her Little Luke (he had grown into a handsome young adult, but that wasn't important here. She had missed that. This one she could see.) sipping cocoa in a cup far too large for their tiny hands and looking at the clean kitchen with wide eyes.
"I am Misery. I am Sorrow. I am Pain," the child glared at May. "Why do you not crumble? Am I not your misery personified? Am I not terrifying?"
May ruffled the god's hair. "You are. You are terrifying. You are everything I failed. You are all I lost because of my pride. The dreams I lost. But you are also my creation, my child. And for that I can't help but love you. Can't help but want to protect you. Can't help but want to make you feel cared for. You might be my misery personified but you are also my second chance."
"But I am Akhlyss, goddess of misery and poison," The divinity took the form of hungry broken little girl. "Do you really still claim to love me now? Now that you see me for who I truly am!"
May took in the gaunt figure. May took in the straw-thin hair. The skeleton that looked as if it hadn't had a good meal a single day of its life. The face that looked like the goddess had tried clawing her eyes out. It was a face that should have horrified mothers and given them nightmares.
May Castellan's decision was easy.
"Of course. Even misery needs company from time to time."
May's sorrow took the form of the child she failed. It haunted her daily. In the corners of her mirrors and the darkness that threatened to swallow her. Still, it was her child and for that reason she couldn't help but care for it. She left treats for the darkness that threatened to swallow her daily. She treated it gently and accepted it for who it was. And as the darkness felt more secure, it clung les, and the shadows started to life. May may have lost one child, but she'd found another in the shadows he'd left behind. It would never be the same, but for some reason May had hope. She would heal and one day, Hermes would come for her one final time. But for now, she was finding her peace. One visit at a time.