"YES I'M FUCKING ZEUS!" He was getting tired of this boy doubting him. His emotions swung from deep depression to anger making him a little bit dizzy so that he staggered back a bit releasing Deimos. "Why does no one believe me dammit! I'M FUCKING ZEUS!"
No one was listening of course. Everyone was either scared shitless and running away from them or they were injured and in too much pain to listen to the ravings of an addict.
Maybe this wasn't Deimos. Was he... was the boy crying?! Zeus stood there in shock watching the boy he thought was Deimos sob like a little girl. The Deimos that was his grandson drank the tears of warriors as he feasted on the flesh of fallen enemies. He never cried. Zeus was fairly certain that Deimos didn't even have tear ducts to cry with. No, no this boy was definitely Deimos. That sixth sense that told him who was a god, a reincarnate or a mortal was screaming at him that this was his grandson. But he was so weak.
"Maybe I got the wrong person," he mumbled taking another step back. He knew he was right but he needed to get out of here to think about this. "Maybe maybe I'll go back home. Yes. Home." With another bewildered slightly disgusted look, Zeus stumbled away. Alone. Again. Oh him, his emotions were tanking again.
Sniffling and snuffling, Zeus walked away, bumping into lamp posts and apologizing to them like he'd tripped over a dog. Lord, he was a mess.