"Good morning, Charon," Hades greeted his brooding receptionist with a beaming smile.
The blank-faced ferryman spared a bored glance out the window, noting the dark, sunless sky. "There's no day or night in the Underworld," he pointed out in a dry tone, then promptly returned to reading his book.
Hades sighed. "I'm well aware. But it's a new day, and I haven't seen you since yesterday, hence the greeting."
"Whatever you say, boss," Charon drawled. "By the way, your first patient's already waiting in your office."
Hades frowned. "Already? Aren't they a bit early? And why did you have them wait in my office instead of out here? You know I keep confidential patient files in there."
Charon let out a sigh that sounded as if it had been dragged from the depths of Tartarus. "He's a VIP. Felt disrespectful to have him wait out here with little ol' me."
"Half my client list is made up of Olympians they're technically VIPs too, and you always make them wait out here."
"Yeah, but they don't give me the creeps. And that's saying something, considering I deal with you and Thanatos every day."
Mildly annoyed by Charon's sullen attitude, Hades grabbed his book and tossed it down the hallway. "You're not exactly a ball of sunshine yourself, asshole. So who is this VIP client?"
Hades tried to remember his schedule for the day, but his brain wasn't firing on all cylinders. Minos, Rhadamanthus, and Aeacus had requested observe a tricky case that dragged on for hours; and then he'd rushed to the clinic straight after. He'd barely had time to rest before clocking in at his practice this morning.
Charon's thin lips curled into a crooked smile. "Why don't you go in and see for yourself? I have a feeling you might like this one."
Hades' curiosity was piqued. Plastering a genial smile on his face, he stepped into his office only to halt a few paces in. His brows drew together in a frown as he took in the tall figure who rose from his seat to greet him.
Dressed in full, resplendent ceremonial garb and adorned with gold jewellery, stood the jackal-faced member of the Ennead. Anubis — deity of funerary rites, protector of graves, and guide to the Underworld, or the Duat as the Egyptians called it.
"Aidoneus, it has been an age since we last saw each other," Anubis said, dipping his head in acknowledgment.
Hades arched a brow and returned the gesture. "It's also been an age since anyone called me by that name." Except, of course, Persephone, though only when she was angry. "What can I do for you, old friend?"
Hades moved to his desk, pulled out his chair, and gestured for Anubis to sit. Much like Hera had the previous day, Anubis sat with perfect posture, rigid and formal. He cleared his throat.
"News of your… clinic has trickled down to my corner of the world. I hear you're willing to lend an ear to those of our kind who wish to air their grievances privately."
"That is true," Hades replied, fighting back a smile. Anubis was so serious, his expression so severe that Hades couldn't picture him ever laughing or smiling. He was much like Charon in demeanour: a little gloomy, with the air of someone constantly beleaguered.
Anubis clasped his hands. "And you swear an oath that nothing I say will leave this room? You see, I simply wish to vent from one death god to another without fear of judgment or repercussion from my fellow gods."
This time, Hades couldn't hold back his smile. "Technically, Thanatos is the death god. I'm merely the overseer of the Underworld and all it entails. But yes, I swear whatever you say during our sessions will never go beyond these walls. What troubles you, my friend?"
Hades reached into his drawer and pulled out his notebook. He was a little nervous, but mostly excited. Most of his clients thus far had been of Greek or Olympian origin. Anubis would be his first patient from a different pantheon. He wished he could tell Persephone about it later, but alas his lips were quite literally sealed, thanks to the divine oath he'd taken upon becoming a licensed therapist.
A soft, high-pitched whimper very much like that of a wounded puppy escaped Anubis. The session had barely begun, and Hades could already tell he was going to struggle to get through it with a straight face. Especially since Anubis reminded him so much of Cerberus.
"You see…" Anubis clasped his clawed hands in his lap, amber gaze cast downward. "I want to make it clear that I love my job; please keep that in mind. It is a great honour to do what I do."
"But?" Hades prompted when he fell silent.
"I feel as if my role… A-as if I'm not given the respect I deserve. Gods and mortals alike hear the words death and Underworld, and they assign negative connotations to my place in the great cycle of life," he sighed. "I've become a symbol to be feared among mortals. Someone to curse. I'm sure you know what that's like."
Anubis' lips stretched in what Hades assumed was meant to be a smile but with his narrow snout and sharp canine teeth, he looked more like a snarling Pinscher.
"I do. Mortals value their lives above all else. It's understandable that they would see death as something to fear and hate. But you could also argue it's in a mortal's best interest to regard a god with some degree of fear. It prevents them from over reaching an incurring a god's wrath," Hades countered. "Do you want to change how mortals understand death and how they view you as a god?"
Anubis growled deep in his throat, his lips pulling back to reveal his canines. He stood, golden arm cuffs gleaming, and clasped his hands behind his back as he began to pace eyes fixed on the carpet.
"It's nothing so simple, Aidoneus. I feel as if I'm carrying the weight of the dead; their regrets, dreams, fears, and a myriad of other emotions. Theirs as well as my own. No one seems to appreciate or understand this burden. My job is important!" he insisted with a huff, casting a glance at Hades for affirmation.
Hades nodded in agreement, tapping his fingers on his desk.
"But no one appreciates my contributions to the afterlife. Do you know how many souls pass through my domain each day? Thousands! Hundreds of thousands of mortals die every day, and it's up to me to oversee each crossing into the Duat. No one thanks me for preparing the bodies and performing the funerary rites that allow them to cross over… Except, maybe the occasional mummy," Anubis groused and chuckled at his own weak attempt at a joke.
Feels undervalued and unappreciated, Hades jotted down. After a moment's hesitation, he added one more note: Overworked.
He set his pen down and laced his fingers together. "Correct me if I'm wrong, old friend but it's my understanding that you're one of the few death gods who isn't perceived as inherently evil. The very fact that you care for the embalming and mummification process, guide souls to the Duat, and serve as protector of graves is why the Egyptian people respect you. They see you as a guardian deity."
Anubis stopped pacing but said nothing.
"Am I wrong?" Hades asked with a faint smile.
The Egyptian god let out a quiet growl. "You are not," he finally relented.
"Hm… You seem to have a skewed sense of how mortals perceive you. Unless this isn't about the mortals at all but about your fellow gods?"
Anubis's ears twitched.
"Tell me about your relationship with the other gods," Hades prompted.
"Like what?" Anubis huffed.
"Anything at all. Whatever comes to mind?"
Anubis returned to his seat and crossed his legs. "There's not much to say. I'm so busy with my duties that I hardly ever see them."
"What about Osiris?"
Anubis' amber gaze snapped up to meet Hades'. "What about him?"
"As god of the Underworld, Osiris' duties overlap with yours. You assist him during the judgment of the souls you usher into the afterlife, do you not?"
"I do," Anubis agreed. "But it's not like I stick around to share a glass of shedeh and catch up on gossip. I don't have time to take a break, otherwise everything would fall into chaos."
Hades frowned. Putting aside the topic of his relationship with Osiris for the moment; he decided to address the jackal god's unbending work ethic.
"You speak as if you never take a break from your work."
Anubis's eyebrows shot up. "A break?" he echoed.
"Yes. We all need to take a break from our duties from time to time. Otherwise, our work among many other things, suffers if we're in a constant state of burnout."
"You surprise me, old friend. Death never takes a break, so why should I?" Anubis said, gesturing to himself.
"Don't you have assistants to help carry the weight of your many tasks?" Hades asked.
The realm of death was too much for one being to handle alone, god or not. Hades knew that better than anyone. That was why he had others in place to help him run the Underworld: Persephone, Thanatos, Charon, the three judges, the Furies, Hekate, and even Hermes, who guided multiple souls to the banks of the River Styx.
"I have Wepwawet, my daughter Qebhet, and Anput. But they're only assistants. I can't just leave them to take care of everything while I take a lovely cruise down the Nile," he protested.
Hades arched a brow. "Why not? Are they bad at their jobs?"
Anubis's ears pinned back, and his gaze darkened. "Of course not! I trained them myself."
"Then why are you against letting them take the reins for a while so you can take a well-earned rest?"
Panic flared in Anubis's eyes, a sharp yip escaping him as he shook his head. "No. Absolutely not. I must be there to oversee everything and make sure nothing goes wrong. What if I leave and a soul crosses over incorrectly? Or worse, doesn't make the crossing at all? What if a soul is wrongly judged because my assistants don't follow the proper steps because I'm not there to supervise?"
"You took time out of your busy schedule to come here today, though. How is that any different?" Hades pointed out.
Anubis blew out a breath and waved the question away. "An hour away is nothing compared to what you're suggesting. I can be gone for a few short hours, but not for prolonged stretches of time. I have a reputation a-and a system to uphold."
Hades picked up his pen.
Perfectionist. Difficulty relinquishing control. Exhibits signs of obsessive-compulsive personality disorder. Chronic burnout… Anxiety disorder?
He underlined the last one twice, the tip of his pen digging into the paper.
"Our time is almost up. But before you leave, I want to give you an assignment for when you return to your next session."
Anubis's ears perked up. "I'm listening."
"I want you to take a day off. Just one day." Hades held up a hand to stop Anubis from interrupting as the latter opened his mouth to protest. "One day, where you delegate your duties to your assistants and let them handle everything while you engage in an activity of your choosing; separate from your identity as the god of funerary rites, protector of graves, and guide to the Underworld. Read a book, start a garden, chart the stars, anything you want. And I want you to note down your experiences and feelings in a journal so we can discuss them at our next session."
"I'm sorry, but you ask too much of me. If you insist I must have moments of respite, then these sessions will be my rest. An hour each week with you. Thank you for carving out some time to see me, old friend." Anubis flashed Hades a toothy grin and vanished before the latter could urge him to consider the suggestion or remind him to schedule his next appointment with Charon.
Leaning back in his seat, Hades scrubbed a hand down his face and wondered if he had ever been so controlling and rigid.
He took a few minutes to update Anubis' patient file and expand his notes. During their next session, he wanted to explore Anubis' relationship with Osiris further though he imagined getting him to talk about it would be like pulling teeth. Sharp, canine teeth.
Hades had just risen from his chair to inquire about the rest of his schedule when the door to his office burst open with such force that it tore from its hinges and slammed against the wall.