Chapter Text
When Death comes to take him, she does not expect much.
She has already seen everything, accompanied so many humans over the Bridge, nothing could surprise her any longer. Some dying in the most brutal and unexpected of ways, leaving whole dreams and families behind them. She came to learn to not take the initial outlash of Anger personally.
There was always Anger.
Once the humans finished processing what happened, Denial always melted away and gave path to hot, livid fury that burst out in all directions like fire out of a volcano. Death has learned long ago to not react; to just stand there, provide a wall of immovable presence, watching as the anger slowly melted away into deep, heartbreaking Sorrow that consumed their fragile Souls whole.
Then came the Bargain.
That is another thing that she learned with time - to not give in to any of their pleas and begs, to stand there tall and strong, unreactive to any of the emotions pouring out of them. It’s not personal, she knows that. It’s how humans work as a species.
In the end, there was always Acceptance.
For some, it was instant. They went through the five stages in a matter of seconds, moments of happiness and sorrow flashing across their eyes before they closed for one last time, body falling back to pass through the Bridge. Those were usually humans who had time to reflect on death during their living time; those who were expecting it; those who threw themselves into it willingly.
Others stayed longer. Some stayed for hours, some for days, months, years, the stages of their hearts stretching out into torturously lengthy periods of time, trying to put the pieces of their irreparable shattered Souls together.
But eventually they all came to accept their inevitable fate.
When she came into yet another small rattled abode on the lonely, rainy island that the humans called Britain, she did not expect to find anything she had not seen already. The wizarding kind of the island have been at war with each other for many years now (although many highly depends on whose perspective one chooses to observe it from), so the scene was nothing out of ordinary at this point.
The Human is standing at the open doorway of his own dwelling, his Soul levitating several inches above the ground where his own Body lies still, still warm, the colour just starting to drain from the skin. He is still registering what happened, still sunk deep in the tight roots of Denial.
“Did you come to take me?” He asks, his eyes flickering over to her when he notices Death standing by his side.
“What about L̵̼͠ỉ̷̖l̷͓̆y̸̺̒?” He asks when she nods in response, words falling off his tongue on auto-pilot, still fueled by the heat of slowly draining motion, the last lingers of life echoing through him.
Death does not know who he means, she does not differentiate between humans and the names they give each other. She only senses Souls and the time given to each of them. There are several more presences in the house, but none of them are due just yet.
“Your friend has already gone over the Bridge,” she tells him calmly. “That Soul was sacrificed to protect another one. Its’ job is complete. So I can not see her through together with you.”
The Human blinks slowly, glossy brown eyes uncomprehending behind two glass-made surfaces in front of them. Death reaches out to slide the object off his face, letting it fade away into the air. There is no need for that anymore.
“What about… What abouť̷̨ ̵͇̾S̶ĭ̴̢r̶̭̼̂̕ì̸̻ụ̷̣̈́͆ṡ̷?” He asks, voice lost and a little shaky. There is fear in his voice. She can sense it. More than there is for himself or for the other Soul who had already gone through before him.
“Is that the child?” She asks.
The Human shakes his head. His eyes return to the Body on the ground, now slowly growing cold, the bronze tan of the skin steadily growing pale, slightly parted lips turning blue.
“Can I just-- can we wait for him?” He asks in a small voice. “Please.”
“It is not their time yet,” Death speaks softly. “You will get to see them later.”
The Human turns to look at her. His eyes search her front, trying to seek out her gaze beyond the black cloak covering her expressionless face. “I just… I just want to say goodbye.”
Death skims her gaze across the dwelling. She does not have much time, however it’s her last one for the day, and she knows that the more unfinished business they leave in the Physical Realm, the longer it takes to convince them to pass through the Bridge.
And so, she gives in.
People keep walking in and out of the house. Masked figures in robes that disappear quickly after seeing what happened, fleeing the scene; a cloaked frame in black that heads straight inside, clutching the other body inside the child's bedroom, weeping tears over a shell that does not contain any shreds of the Soul any longer.
The Human with her watches them all, taking in the unfolding events from the side, the first stage of Denial now giving in to the incoming Anger, enraged injustice shining through his eyes at everything happening.
His face remains stoic and determined through it all, somehow managing the strength to keep himself together even when he watches the human child cry as it’s taken away, the soft skin of his tiny forehead sliced red by a curse.
He only breaks when the ruined door cracks, pushed to the side, and another figure makes its way inside the house.
"No.."
Shaky words falling from trembling lips. A thud that echoes through the room around them when knees hit the floor, unsteady hands reaching forward, grabbing the body, clutching it, shaking it violently by the shoulders.
"No. No, no, no̸,̷ J̸͋a̴m̸͚̅e̴̝̔s̵̡̎,̵ n̴o-- Stay with me. Please, stay with me."
Hands roaming over the chest, throat and wrists, searching for a pulse, like if they look hard enough, it can be dug out of the stillness of the cold body by force.
Spell after spell hits the motionless chest, every existing healing enchantment and any possible combination shooting out of the wand, one after another in a panicked fit of despair, no matter how many times the flesh keeps rejecting them.
The urgent edge of the magic is so strong that it seeps past the cold body held in trembling arms, flowing down onto the ground, dripping through the cracks of the wooden tiles into the soil of the earth.
Green strings break their heads past the surface of the floor, small buds of youthful flowers popping out, creating a ring of white and green around the body, climbing over stone-cold arms and covering the skin like a soft carpet, the earth's life circling the dead body to mourn it.
"No.." The wand clatters to the floor at last when Denial starts giving way to the truth. Shoulders drop, the entire body sagging as the same hands reach downwards again, cradling the body's head within its trembling palms, fingers threading through hair, desperately trying to latch onto the last bits of a recogniseable frame.
"Please... Please, J̸a̴m̸͚̅e̴̝̔s̵̡̎, please, not you, not now, not like this... Please, you can't leave me, you can't--" the voice breaks off, choking on its own grief, red eyes closing to let tears fall, staining the cold skin underneath it.
"You can't," the voice keeps repeating, "you horrible, selfish bastard.." The body bends over the one underneath it, clutching it in shaking arms, face pressing against unbreathing chest. "I love you. I love you so much. I can't do this without you. Please..."
The word is repeated over and over. Like it means anything at all. Like it could change things.
When Death looks over to the Human by her side, she finds tears rolling down his cheeks, the heartbreak of the wreckage in front of him reflecting in his eyes, tearing apart with the helplessness of the situation.
"P̷͛a̸͚͐̀d̸̩̋̑ś̷̫.. I'm so sorry.." he whispers when the sobs grow louder, a pained scream tearing through the air. "I'm so, so sorry.."
He tries to reach out a hand but his fingers close around nothing, going through the physical bodies around him, helpless to do anything, touch, provide comfort. He brings up a hand to cover his own mouth, stifling the sobs breaking past his own lips.
Death gives him a moment, watching from the side. Lets him pour all of the heartbreaks and regrets out, so the Soul she needs to take across the Bridge gets clean and can move onto the next stage safely.
"P̸e̵̫̎t̶t̵̙͊i̵g̵r̷͛e̴̐w̷!" The same voice roars, still weak and shaking with the ache of loss, now also painted with deep fury, "P̴e̶͛̏ṭ̸̋̓ẗ̴́i̷̝̐̃ǵ̷r̶͛e̶͘w̸, you fucking rat! I know it's you!"
"P̷͛a̸͚͐̀d̸̩̋̑ś̷̫, don't," the Human calls out, hand reaching out to close around air again. When he tries to move in the direction of the door, following the disappearing figure, his Soul bounces back, Death's presence pulling him back.
"I'm sorry," she tells him when he turns to look at her, trying to make her voice sound as empathetic as she can manage after seeing the same scene play out dozens times a day over the span of an eternity. "It is time. You have to come with me."
-
The Human does not cross the Bridge right away, but Death is not worried about that. She places him in a temporary dwelling, one of the many scattered across the Line between the Physical Realm and the Other Side, and returns to her own abode.
She goes back to her own routine, picking up lost Souls and leading them to their peace, her mind mostly focused on work until she gets back.
She watches the Human every time she comes back, looking for signs of Acceptance, but he always remains the same. Sitting at the Edge, face twisted in a scowl as he watches the Physical Realm from above, studying the events unfolding underneath them.
"It isn't fair," he keeps muttering, tottering between Anger and Sorrow as he guards the world beneath them watchfully. "I can't believe they would put him with those people! What are they thinking?” His eyes are wide, glistening with the fury of the injustice he is watching.
“And ̷̎S̵̛i̸̋r̶i̸͘u̴s̴͂..̴͑.” The word alone seems to punch all air out of him, glossy eyes blinking rapidly as he gazes down from the Edge. “They can’t possibly believe that he… Our friends, R̸ę̴̛̲̀m̸͓͉̀u̶͠ś̸̚,̶́ ̶̎the Order… they have to know it’s a mistake. They have to. It’s…”
Death blinks emotionlessly and turns around, leaving him to his emotions.
The rage does not go away - every time she sees him, the Human only grows more restless and agitated, the events of his Past Life not letting go even as time keeps passing around them. He seems more persistent than most of the humans she sees through across the Bridge, and yet none of it strikes her as extraordinarily odd.
Until he asks her for her name.
“My name is J̷̐̽à̵̭̩m̸̡̧͇̈́͊ẽ̴̳̭͖̚s,” he tells her when she does not reply, lips pulling up into a smile when he tilts his head to the side. “I’m--”
“Do not bother telling me,” she interrupts him sharply. “I do not hold human names in my memory. It causes attachment,” she says, the word bitter and tasteless on her tongue, “and that’s not something I’m allowed to do.”
She doubts she could even if she tried. It was challenging at first, watching tragedy after tragedy without being able to do anything. But today, she does not think there is anything that could surprise her or catch her unprepared anymore.
“Don’t you have a name?” The Human asks, eyebrows shooting up with genuine curiosity. He does not seem repulsed by the lack of a face under her cloak, the first one to remain there and talk to her even after he saw her take it off, revealing the large void of nothing underneath it.
“I do not have a human name. I am Death.”
He bites his lip thoughtfully, lounging back in the chair she has manifested for them. “Can I give you a name?”
“You can do whatever you want,” she replies impassively. “You will forget me once you cross the Bridge anyhow.”
“Okay,” he exclaims cheerfully, lips spreading in a wide grin. “I’ll call you Becky.”
-
And then, in a natural flow of events, comes the Bargain.
On some days he is calmer, on others the Human can not tear his gaze away from the Realm below them, face twisting and constricting with so many emotions just from watching the events unfold from aside.
"You gotta let me fix this," he begs her, voice shaking with the urgency of his words. "They can't do it, it's unfair. How can you not care? He's innocent. And ̶͆͘H̸̔a̸̎̍r̸̫͋̀r̸͍̞̈́y’s a child . They’re both completely alone."
"I do not meddle in the affairs of humans," Death replies dryly, trying to push past the stubborn Soul of the Human to get to her own corner.
"Come on, have some humanity!" he exclaims.
She turns to look at him. "I do not have humanity. I am Death."
It’s funny that she keeps repeating that so much around him. She doesn’t, not normally, most people can somehow tell just from her appearance alone.
The Human's features soften a little. "He's just a boy. A kid," he pleads.
"Human children suffer all the time. In ways much more awful than this."
She waits patiently, waits for him to let go, to move on, but that does not happen. Every time she returns to the Edge after a day full of work, the Human is waiting for her, impatiently anticipating her return.
“You have to let me do something, please.” He keeps bargaining. “Just let me talk to someone, send a brief message. I’ll explain what happened, then they’ll let ̷̎S̵̛i̸̋r̶i̸͘u̴s̴͂ go.”
He does not fear her wrath, does not flinch away from her reactions when she lashes out, tries to threaten him into silence, does not submit under threat of endless physical suffering in the Afterlife, does not put anything above his dignity when he gets down on his knees to keep pleading.
“Please. Becky.. I am begging you. He’s innocent. He’s suffering while he’s done nothing wrong. They both are. Just let me fix it, then they’ll at least have each other, and then I swear I’ll be gone.”
Death does not lose her patience frequently (she likes to believe that she does not have one, does not experience feelings and emotions the way humans do - at least not anymore - but every once in a while someone will come around to prove her otherwise), but she feels her patience running thin with this one.
This won't do, Death thinks to herself as she enters the space of her abode slowly. At this pace, he will never cross the Bridge.
So Death gives the Human anything a mortal being could want.
She gives him something to entertain himself with, to take his restless mind off things. She gives him a temporary flesh with all the basic needs and the desires of a human body, gives him the means to please them.
She gives him an insatiable sense of hunger and a bottomless feast to satisfy it with. A big house with a beautiful garden that contains every existing species of plants and animals; unlimited food and entertainment to spend his time; a forest to run around in and explore; a river where the waters are never too cold or too hot; trees with exotic fruits the taste of which a mortal tongue has never experienced.
But the Human refuses to touch any of that.
Every day, he exits the house, crosses the marvellous gardens surrounding it without so much as a spare glance at all the unearthly beauty around him, and heads straight for the border of the Edge. Instead of busying himself with the beautiful denial of the hypnotising marvels around him, he chooses to watch the unfolding horrors of the world underneath them, over and over, no matter how much anguish it brings to his eyes.
Death gives him everything she thought a human mind could want or need, and yet every single morning, instead of going into the forest or swimming at the river, the Human would show up on her doorstep, knocking time and time again, even when her reply remained the same.
He did that once for every full circle of the earth.
All four seasons.
Over and over.
For fifteen sun circles.
“What is your problem?” Death hisses. “It’s done, you can’t change anything. Why do you keep fighting it?”
The Human’s eyes are shimmering with a sad light in them when he looks back at her, not a hint of humour in his voice.
“I can’t just… leave them. Ḩ̶͍͝a̸̝̾̀r̷̹͂̚r̷̔ý̸ deserves to have a normal childhood, not--”
“That’s nonsense,” Death cuts him off sharply. “This isn’t about the child. The child will be fine, you both have made your sacrifice. The mother’s Soul was sacrificed to save his. His Fate is secured - there is no reason for you to stay.”
She had never let herself share as much information with any other mortal before. It is not technically forbidden, but it is simply not something she does. The humans always forget her anyway, as soon as they pass the Bridge, so she sees no point confiding in them, even if it is to ease their pain for a little while, only to be left with the knowledge of everything after they pass through into an infinitely serene Realm where none of that matters anymore.
The sadness does not leave the Human’s eyes as he keeps looking at her.
“What about̵̔ ̵̹͆͗S̶̓͝i̸̯͐̔̍͒r̵̝͂̐i̷͉̠͌̌͆̕u̷̽̓͘š̴?̴” He asks softly. Death does not tell the names apart, the sounds nothing but a blur to her, but she can always tell when the Human is speaking about him , can always tell who he means by the way the colour of his eyes gets darker with it, deeper, tangled with all of the regrets and desires in them. “Who’s going to secure his fate?”
Death does not really have an answer for him. She can sense the Soul the Human is talking about if she focuses hard enough, can sense it now so much better than she did fifteen sun circles ago - which means that his own due date is getting closer by the day. That time is running low, almost over. They will be reunited soon enough and then all of her problems will be gone.
It is not the child that draws the Human back into the Physical Realm, it is the other Soul he left there. And as soon as that Soul crosses the Bridge, the Human will follow suit.
She just needs to hang on a little while longer there.
But curiosity killed the cat, as the saying goes, and so she can not help but ask.
“Why do you care so much? About what happens to him?”
“He’s... He’s my soulmate.” The Human replies simply. “I can’t leave without him.”
Death barely restrains herself from flinching away at the word. She slowly leans back, letting her gaze run over the Human’s form, studying him carefully, watching out for any sign of deceit, or even unconscious delusion. There seems to be none.
“Soulmates don’t exist,” she replies, her voice harsher than he probably deserves. “Humans made that up. Your Soul is as complete as it can be on its own. You do not actually need anyone.”
“Wrong,” the Human argues, his voice fierce and determined. “I do. I need him. And he needs me.” He reaches out his mortal hand, as if to touch her, and she has to physically move out of the way to avoid the contact. Why does he insist on trying to touch her? Humans don’t normally even look her in the eye. “Becky, you have to let me fix it, please.”
She bolts up to her feet, straightening up to the entire height of her tall, cloak-covered form. “Enough with this clownery,” she hisses, “if by the time the Earth circles the Sun for the fifteenth time, you do not make your peace with reality and leave, I will put the both of you through endless sufferings in the Pit. You will never know life without pain again.”
She picks up her sickle from the ground and disappears the manifested set of chairs with a snap of her fingers, leaving the Human toppling over to the empty, cold ground underneath them as she spins on her heel to leave.
She does not expect him to be there the next day, but when she gets up he is still there, as persistent and exasperating as ever.
She watches him for a while after that, closer than she usually does. His voice echoes through her head over and over again, uttering that cursed, forbidden word.
Soulmate .
With as long as the Soul of the Human has spent on the Edge, it should have faded long ago; lost any sense of self with nobody to interact with; dissolved into nothing. Instead, it appears to be as bright and solid as ever, just like the day Death came to take him. It almost seems like there really is something that’s been left behind, something that his Soul is feeding on in the Physical Realm, incomplete and unable to disappear without it, never knowing peace.
Soulmates? Could they actually be…?
Death shakes her head quickly to snap herself out of the haze of illusions. It does not make any sense. Soulmates ceased to exist long centuries ago. She hasn’t encountered intertwined Souls in dozens of centuries. Human beings constantly claim to love each other, they do terrible things in the name of what they call Love, but when faced with the choice of a temporary mortal love, and basic human temptations, they break.
In the end, all it takes is one bad day.
She comes back to her abode later than usual, drained and exhausted by the events of the day. The war between the wizarding kind on the lonely northern island is getting stronger, spreading further south, and there are more and more casualties every day - not just regular deaths but stubborn human souls, all requiring empathy and consolation to convince them to cross the Bridge.
All she wants to do is lay down in the river of apathy and drown herself in it, let all the mortal emotions clouding her judgement go, sink in nothing.
“So, I was thinking,” the Human blabbers on, either oblivious to the internal state of her desires or uncaring about it, “what is the sickle really for, if you don’t actually use it? I’ve never seen you use it. Is that like a folklore thing? Like the cloak? For people to recognise you as Death?” He tilts his head to the side, blinking at her with unconcealed curiosity. “Does that change over the years? Does it change depending on what country you go to to collect the Souls? Do you appear as Yama when you go to India or China? Wouldn’t a sword be more useful than a sickle? Have you ever used it to--”
“Oh my god,” Death finds herself exclaiming, instantly feeling mortified when she realises the horrific toll that the presence of the Human was taking on her language. “ Fine .”
The Human blinks at her, startled, instantly falling silent for three long, blissful seconds. Thank god.
“Wait, seriously?” He cries out loudly, jumping up so suddenly that it topples over the chair he’s sitting on, the manifested object hitting the ground and dissolving into dust at his feet. “You mean that? You’re taking me t̵̔o ̵̹͆͗S̶̓͝i̸̯͐̔̍͒r̵̝͂̐i̷͉̠͌̌͆̕u̷̽̓͘š̴?̴”
“I’m taking you wherever you want, if you promise that I won’t ever hear from you again,” she grumbles, slowly pushing herself up to her feet. She grabs the cloak from the back of her own chair, slipping it onto the dry, naked bones of her frame.
The Human gapes at her, then his face splits in the widest, brightest smile she has possibly ever seen. He physically bounces, lunging forward to hug her, the only thing stopping him being the sickle she instantly pulls out, pointing the round edge of it at his chest.
She does not get paid nearly enough for this.
“Let’s go.”
While he still sputters at her, scrambling for empty, useless words of human gratitude, she rises into the air and reaches out to hook the pointy edge of her sickle under the back collar of his shirt, easily raising the entire weight of the Human up in the air with her.
She quickly makes her way through the atmosphere of space and time, slicing through it like a lightning, the freezing wind unfelt against her dead, bone-stretched, dried skin.
“Can you take me t̵o̵ ̸̘̉G̸̮͠r̵͎͝i̶̼͆m̵̤̽m̷̫̗͐a̶̢͍͍̺͓͛̔̅̽̐͝ǘ̴̲̼̭̪̓̈́̈̅l̸̞̮̥͔̳̆̚d̴̛̫̱͌́̐́ ̷̜̔P̸̏͜l̷̙̇a̶̗͝č̶̭e̴?̷” The Human asks, swaying restlessly from side to side on the tip of the blade. “I need to--”
“Have you learned nothing from all that time at the Edge?” She snaps at him. “I can only return you to where I picked you up. I won’t be able to help you any more than that, you will have to figure out everything else on your own.”
The Human opens his mouth to argue back, but then she pulls the blade away, tucking it inside her robes, and he drops with a yelp, landing on the cold ground with a thud.
He seems to be so startled and relieved at the fact that he can finally feel again, small rocks sticking to the skin of his palms from the contact, the damp moisture of the grass seeping through his robes, that he does not even mind the physical pain from the fall. He looks around, and even with the ruined state of the dwelling around him, glass shattered and wood cracked, he can’t help but smile widely.
He brings up a hand to run it over his own face, feeling it, and his eyes well up with tears, red and glossy, blinking rapidly. Death looks away to give him a moment, letting him sniffle lowly under his breath and bring up a hand to wipe his tears on the fabric of his sleeve.
“Thanks,” he rasps out hoarsely, still teary-eyed but smiling as he pushes himself up to his feet, stretching his head up to look at her floating figure. “You have-- you have no idea how much this means to me. To all of us. You’ve done such a good thing.”
Death can not help but huff at that. Good thing, he says. Truly like he learned nothing about her essence and her purpose in their world.
“Just promise not to die anytime soon,” she tells him. “I really don’t want to see you again.”
The Human beams up at her brightly. “Cross my heart and hope to die,” he promises with a fist over the left side of his chest.
She watches him dust himself off, straightening the wrinkles of his robes, prepared to step back into his world after fifteen years of being gone.
That’s it, she thinks. She should head back now. Leave him to it.
But something keeps tugging at her non-existent chest.
“Hey, Huma--” she cuts herself off, pausing to consider the name. “Ja̴mes,” she calls out.
He pauses and turns around, momentarily thrown by the use of his human name.
“I.. What I told you about soulmates.. That’s not true. Intertwined Souls do exist. Or at least they used to, many years ago.” She isn’t sure what pushes her to say it, what causes her to open up in a way she never has before. Maybe it’s the length of the proximity they have spent together on the Edge, longer than she had ever allowed herself to dwell in the presence of another being. “I have not seen a case of Intertwined Souls in centuries. People stopped caring about each other like that long ago.”
The Human tilts his head to the side, watching her with interest. “What, like Romeo and Juliet?”
Death scoffs. “Don’t be silly,” she chastises. “They were just a couple of mindless, lascivious teenagers. I am talking about stories like Achilles and Patroclus, Savitri and Satyavan, Niulang and Zhinu, Merlin and King Arthur.”
The corner of his mouth twitches a little. “Didn’t most of them.. end up dying?” he asks cautiously.
“Everybody dies,” she replies with a sigh. “That is not the point. But regardless,” she lets her gaze run over the Human’s body slowly, studying his form. “I think you might be right. I was hesitant to admit it at first, but for a Soul to stay so long stuck on the Edge without fading… part of it must have stayed behind.”
When she looks back up to meet the Human’s gaze, the brown of his eyes is glistening with an intense sort of brightness. He looks so very alive.
“Thanks, Becky,” he says softly, his lips spreading in a small smile.
“Leila.” The name comes stumbling out of her mouth before she can stop it. “That was my… human name. Before I was taken for my sins.”
The Human’s smile widens. “Thanks, Leila. I won’t forget it.”
“You will,” she tells him. That’s simply a given. All Souls do, once they pass on from the Edge. Only moments from now, he won’t have a single memory left in him of anything between his death and his return. “But that’s okay.”
As she watches him give her a small salute and turn around in the direction of the exit, she finds herself smiling too, a small barely noticeable curl of her lips. Possibly for the first time since she picked up the Death Sickle and came to accept her new role in this universe.
“In the name of the stars and all holy,” she mutters to herself, slowly shaking her head as she prepares to take her leave. “Who the hell is this mortal?”