steve rogers, bucky barnes, and other stories

sing a song of coming home [orphydice]

summary: before he turns, eurydice remembers they love each other

tw: none

orpheus finds her in a line of workers, the dirt streaking across her cheeks. orpheus' heart wants to break at the sight of her eyes, her eyes which had been so bright and alive, that were now dulled by the fires of hadestown. 

he pulls her out from the line, takes her by the arm and she flinches. orpheus takes his hand back (he had never wanted to hurt her, but he kept doing it anyways). 

"eurydice?" he whispers. he reaches his fingers out to touch her cheek, he wants to run his hands all over her and make sure there were no new scars, he wants to make sure she's there and real, he wants to know she still loves him (even after every way that he's failed her). "oh gods, it's you, it's you." 

eurydice stares at him, and there is something hidden in her eyes but there is no smile on her lips. "who are you? i don't-- i don't remember." 

"it's me," he says, insistent. she has to remember, she has to. he doesn't think he can handle it if she doesn't remember him. "i'm orpheus, orpheus, your husband, your lover." 

she looks at him again, curiosity beginning to fall on her face. "who am i?" 

orpheus didn't think his heart could break any more than it had when he lost her, but this makes everything in his lungs crumple all over again. "you're eurydice," he murmurs. he reaches out again, and this time she lets him touch her. "you're the love of my life." 

"eurydice," she says, tasting the word on her tongue. "orpheus." 

"that's me," orpheus says, leaning towards her. she feels so fragile in his hands, her cheeks hot enough to light a fire in his fingertips. "please, you have to remember."

"you sang me a song," she whispers. "you were going to bring back the springtime." 

orpheus breaks into a smile. he cups her face so tenderly, with all the love of the gods in his eyes, and he never wants to let go. "i'm going to bring you home." 

"how did you even get here?" she asks. there is some recognition blooming in her words. all the sorrow and regret in her heart couldn't fit into one question. 

"i sang a song so beautiful that the rocks split apart and let me through." 

his voice is a melody in itself, and eurydice could sing a hymn just for his love. "i love you," she told him. "i remember, and i didn't tell it to you enough, orpheus, orpheus, i love you, i love you, i love you." 

"i love you too, 'rydice," he murmurs, and he reaches down to kiss her (her lips taste like symphonies and orchestras and all the good things that come in winter). "i'm so sorry for everything i've done." 

"it's not your fault," she says in a rush. "it's me, i did this." 

orpheus shakes his head (all his love turns like a spit in his chest, burning like a flame that will never die). "it's okay, you're okay, we're okay." 

"we're okay," she repeats. "take me home, orpheus."