He'd seen that face a million times before that the instant recognition drew the same response from him as it had thousands of years ago. Every single time they fought, Zeus looked upon him the same way, as did Hera. Greeks weren't all that nice - he had a fair share of it from the others. It was an expression that very slowly and clearly spelled out his unworthiness and said that they wanted to have nothing to do with him.
Which he supposed in the end was fine. He was tired of trying to re-open closed doors.
He shut off then, the fight within him dying down swiftly to silence, and more than ever he felt like sinking into the space in his couch.
Staring at the leather surface of his couch for a while, he closed his eyes, and thought that if he kept his eyes closed long enough he'd be left alone again.