The last words of your mother rang through your head as you walked down the street back to the hideout. 'Manipulated'. 'Kidnapped'. 'Forced'. As you spoke softly to her, holding her hands as she sobbed.

'You're all mistaken, mother, can't you see-?'

'I was not taken, mother I chose to leave..-!'

You weren't threatened nor bound, you thought as you walked up the stairs of the fire escape to your apartment, arms hugging yourself tight as you hung your head low in anger, yet embarrassment.

How could a small visit go so wrong?

Because you packed your own bag, found your own way, down into the underground...?

But can't she know that death was a very stable job? You thought to yourself, as you entered through your window, careful to not make a sound. To not wake the League, who slept near your feet in sleeping bags and blankets you stole to keep.

You noticed, in the dim light of the moon shining through, the familiar black-haired man you called your partner leaning against the wall. Smoking a cig, like nothing at all. You grinned, running forward as your arms encircled your lover.

The one who danced in your shadows, and you danced in his. It didn't matter in the end. It never did. Because you loved your baby, tall, dark Hades, Lord of Death, on his knees for you.