Please My Love
Lady Death stayed in the cottage pacing after her wife stormed off. Her plants had died around her only leaving her familiar and Agatha’s. She stared down at them, her magic casting them to her realm to dwell. After days, Death realized Agatha truly wasn’t going to come back. Like a coward, she had run– she had run from their promise, from their love– from Death’s care. Agatha would break from this. Their child didn’t stand a chance. Their connection still stood strong and when she appeared still in the in-between never did she expect Agatha to be trekking back to Salem. She didn’t show herself, but they both knew she was there, watching. She followed Agatha all the way back to Salem as much as her job would allow. She cleaned up after her kills, but Agatha never lingered during them. There was no more work and play. It was only work and survival. Part of her hated when she felt the pull, knowing who it was that killed. Her shadows would go while she dealt with the petty wars and battles on the other side of the ocean.
The months passed quicker than Death cared to admit, but her thoughts remained with her wife and unborn son. During one kill, when Agatha was stealing the powers of a witch, she lingered, not for Death, no Agatha seemed to forget her and it sent Lady Death into a rage. The weather was strange around the world except for where Agatha was. Death couldn’t risk hurting her, but oh how she wanted to. Agatha was destroying her bit by bit. Death had begun to hate herself, not for being Death, but for simply allowing herself to fall in love with a mortal and a serial killer at that. There was no escape, not from their bond, not from their connection, and not from their marriage. She tried to undo it. She actually did in her fit of rage, but it only backfired, casting her at Agatha’s feet.
She sat up from the forest floor, finding Agatha made it back to Salem, but she was by the river… the river where she gave Lady Death a name. A fire was her only source of light, her love curled up under the few blankets she had with her. She stared down at her, always memorized by how she slept, how all the worry and stress would disappear from Agatha’s features. She was beautiful as the day they met, over a corpse and radiating with power. Rio felt the power, stronger with her kills, but the strange scent still lingered. She knelt closer to Agatha, knowing better than to use her magic. She would wake and it would start a whole other fight between them. Her heart clenched at her last words to her, telling her to run and she did just that. She hovered her hand over the blanket but taking the chance, pulling it back to find Agatha was round with life. Her eyes widened, not able to pull away from it. The anger faded, her heart thrumming as she started at how big Agatha had gotten. Her wife had to be close then, for the soul was strong inside her.
One touch won’t hurt, she told herself, unable to stop herself as her hand laid over the roundness.
She rubbed it slowly, just experimentally, never having been this close to life, except when she came to collect the mothers who would die in childbirth. Yet, they were still shrouded in death. She felt the magic hum underneath her palm, realizing this child was made from nothing but scratch…nothing but their love. A movement under her palm made her eyes widen in disbelief and with her power, she could see the babe’s hand pressed against her own. Flowers bloomed around them, but she didn’t care. This was her son as much as it was Agatha’s. Maybe he would survive.
She grunted when her back was on the soil again. Something cold bit at her neck as familiar blues pierced down at hers with fury, but the body on top of her froze. For a moment, they just stared at each other. Agatha relaxed into Rio’s lap, the knife falling from her grip as tears welled in her eyes. Rio stared, not understanding as arms forced her to sit up, wrapping around her neck with such force, she was sure the woman would break it. Rio stayed still under her wife’s grip but she regained control of herself, her own arms around the woman as she cried. It was different as Agatha’s stomach stopped them from getting closer. Then as fast as the tears came, they left. The dagger dug into her shoulder, but she barely felt it.
“Rio, what the fuck are you doing here? You leave for all these months, never showing your face and then what? I just wake up to you touching my stomach– reaching for our child that you don’t want to have.”
Death remained silent, her own head swirling as Agatha stared down at her, her hand back on her own stomach.
“To the Mother, Rio, you woke her,” Agatha sighed as they both visibly saw the kick.
“Him,” was all Rio could muster as her wife moved off of her, wrapping the blanket back around her.
“Excuse me?” she said, now refusing to look at her.
“Him, Agatha. The child is a boy.”
The gaze was sharp, but Rio could see the hurt and love brewing in her eyes, “How do you know?”
Rio shook her shoulders before plucking the dagger out, “Because I sensed it a couple of kills ago. You lingered a little too long.”
Her wife rolled her eyes, “Yeah, well they weren’t all dead.”
Silence engulfed them as Agatha shivered. Rio sighed, not able to stop the action. She produced a blanket of moss and wrapped it around her as well. She glared daggers at Rio, but accepted the blanket nonetheless before staring at the flowers around them.
“Are you apologizing?”
Rio reeled, her neck twitching as her stomach twisted, staring back to where their son grew. She looked away, staring at her hand as she produced a rio dipladenia in her palm. She didn’t want to, but something knew she should. Rio had scared her, had driven her away when she should have sat her down, discussed what was going to happen, but it was too late. It was too late for Agatha, too late for their love, too late for their son. The flower glowed and spun in her hand as she contemplated it. She could run, never return, but Lady Death would eventually reap both of them, and there she would face them again. Her heart clenched, knowing this was a grave she would not be able to pull herself out from. With the help of the wind, she laid the flower in Agatha’s hair.
“I suppose I am,” she said quietly. “I shouldn’t have screamed at you and driven you from our home, but Agatha, I wish you would have listened.”
She felt the hum of the magic before it blasted her in the chest, “Listen to what? How you don’t want children, how you screamed at me to run–”
“Agatha,” Rio silenced her, a hand resting on her thigh.
Her wife quieted, both of them staring into the fire as she grounded her. Her wife didn’t need this, not for what is about to come. She let her words process in her head before she spoke, hoping her purple witch would listen to her.
“I am Death. I am not human. I am not mortal. I am a cosmic entity and never should have bound myself to you, but I did. I don’t regret it but you have to understand that I am not just Rio. My form goes beyond your comprehension and eyes. My powers as well but like every being, I have my limit. This child we conceived is both life and death. He will not survive–”
“Bullshit, Rio. You can’t just tell me after you felt him, that he won’t survive. His soul is strong. I know you feel it,” Agatha faced her, her eyes wide.
She could only nod, her eyes staring at her stomach again.
“Rio, he has his mother’s strength, you can’t possibly believe that he won’t grow in power and strength.”
She eyed her, “He does have your strength, but–”
“No,” Agatha shook her head. “His mother’s, yours, Rio.”
Rio flinched, not able to help it. What else would he have of hers? Her eyes? Her bones? Would he also reap souls? Or would he just be death itself?
She looked away, standing, “Agatha, I can not foresee what will happen, but you and I both know I can’t be part of this–”
Agatha snarled at her, “I already told you not to come.”
Rio straightened her shoulders, taking her dagger from her belt, but Agatha stood as well, “Wait, Rio. Please, I didn’t mean–”
“I know,” she sighed, reading the connection between them. There was confusion, hurt, and longing. She knew the woman loved her until it pained her, but silently they both knew Death could not be part of life. Agatha wanted her here with them, but she wouldn’t come to the birth. “Let him give you the happiness that I can not, Agatha. Let him give you the love you deserve since clearly, as you stated, I can not.”
“Rio, please,” her wife stopped her again.
Agatha spun her around, her lips on hers. Her hands, always tender, always gentle, always cradling her face like she was the most tender being in the world, held her. Their lips locked continuously as Rio tasted Agatha’s tears. Her hands came up, holding her wife’s wrists as the fire lit in Rio’s heart. Her hands fell from her wrists, wrapping around her waist, only to be reminded by what stood between them. Her belly rested against Rio’s, breathing hard until she felt the jab from the stomach, making Agatha pull away. Death was quicker, her hand rubbing gently over where the babe had kicked his mother. Their heads rested together as tears continued to fall from her love’s eyes.
“Stay,” Agatha murmured, knowing Rio could hear her.
“Agatha,” Rio went to pull away, but her feet were rooted into the ground, unable to. It was as if her own Green magic was against her, craving to be around this life they had created.
“Please, my love. Just for tonight, stay,” Agatha begged her and Agatha didn’t beg.
Rio gave her saddened smile, placing a kiss on her forehead, “Just for tonight and then I will be gone come morning.”
Agatha only nodded moving back in front of the fire, lying down. Rio came behind her, having her cloak move over Agatha’s shivering body. Their bodies wrapped around the other’s in the familiar comfort, as if the fight never happened, and as if there wasn’t a soul growing from nothing but scratch. Rio held her closer, nuzzling into the familiar warmth, kissing her head. She leaned by Agatha’s ear the moment she was asleep.
“Go by the rivers and streams, and you will be safe. Death will protect you both in your sleep,” she casted the protection on her, her magic humming to life, wrapping around them both.
***
The days moved too fast for both of them. Rio felt it weeks later after she had left Agatha by the river in the morning. Rio was near Salem, collecting the bodies in a tavern when there was a shootout. Oh how she hated men and their useless need for Death. It was only fun when they deserved it, but she supposed they did after a group of them had started all of this. She left the tavern, allowing her human form to wander with the crowd. She was confused as people stared at her, and now a part of her wondered if maybe she was too high-born looking as the corset dug into her ribs. She fixed the Spanish moss cloak around her when she froze. There was pain, a sharp pain that took what little breath she had away.
Agatha, her mind realized. Our son.
Don’t bother being there when it’s time, Agatha’s voice echoed in her ears.
She would respect her wishes, Rio would not come, but maybe after he was born. She had to see him, what they created. She told Agatha she would stay away, but deep down they knew she would not. She would stay in the shadows, watching from the in-between. Agatha knew that somewhere deep down. The boy was hers just as much as he was Agatha’s, and what made it more true, were Agatha’s words once more ringing in her ears.
He has his mother’s strength…yours, Rio.
Death shuddered for the first time. She didn’t know why, but she did, feeling the fathom of pain Agatha was in. She couldn’t do anything, but feel her, knowing how long these things could take. Her Agatha would be fine, she would be safe… alive. Rio could feel her by the river, up against a tree as she held back her yells of agony. She closed her eyes as the people in the streets pushed past her, trying to block it out. Death had casted her spell. There was nothing more for her to do. She wasn’t supposed to have children, let alone with a mortal, and she didn’t know what dangers she brought with it. She wondered if the other cosmics could sense it. Would they feel a half cosmic being brought to this plane by the wife she was also never supposed to have? Did they know of her wife? The ritual they did all those years ago under the Blood Moon? She had wished Agatha would gain a part of her, but not like this. She stared at her feet, wondering how in all her years of existing she could allow herself to fuck up this bad. How was she supposed to go on when they died? Death comes for everyone. She knew that like the back of her own hand. She had watched everyone she even remotely cared about die, but then she knew she was meant to be alone. So why did the universe make her love a being that wouldn’t survive her existence. It was cruel…so cruel she thought she could produce tears as her heart hammered in her chest, making it hard to think.
“My lady,” a voice snapped her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”
Rio turned to look at the old woman, who smiled sadly at her. The woman then froze, like they all did. She watched as the blood drained from her skin, staring at Rio with a knowing look. Death bored her gaze back into her, feeling the timer start to wind down. This woman had minutes and that wasn’t her fault. Something in the cosmos decided Rio’s presence would kill the old lady. That the fear Rio caused would stop the hearts of the old. She did that sometimes. It wasn’t her, for she couldn’t kill no matter how her fingers had itched for it. Agatha would always do it for her unless it was the old who only had moments left and Rio would pass with her presence. It wasn’t her fault they were scared of her. It was no one’s but their time. She watched as the woman fell at her feet and her form quickly disappeared, only revealing to the woman’s soul. She bent down, taking the soul’s hands, smiling softly.
“What? What happened?” the woman asked, standing up with Rio.
Rio only nodded to her body, forcing the woman to gasp, her hand over her mouth, “Oh.”
She bowed her head at her, “Come, you have a small journey ahead of you.”
“I knew I recognized you,” the woman said to her. “But I didn’t think I would see Lady Death in such sadness.”
Lady Death laughed, “I am not a monster, sweet soul. I did not kill you. It was merely your time to cross to the next life. I am here to make sure you get there.”
Rio nodded to the veil, crossing with the soul and coming into Purgatory, “You can either cross into this veil and into the Afterlife or dwell here in Purgatory, but this is a place for angry souls who still aren’t ready to accept their next life.”
The orange haze wrapped around them as the woman looked around before turning to the veil and disappearing through. Rio stayed for a moment, staring at the white veil before feeling herself being called to a death by the river of Salem.
When Rio appeared, she didn’t know why she was surprised, but she was. She stood on the edges staring at her wife who clutched her stomach, her hair wild around her face as she groaned and cried. Sweat covered her as she breathed heavily. Rio swallowed hard, a flower blooming in her hand as something tugged at her heart. She couldn’t name it as Agatha struggled, her scream now echoing through the trees. A lemon she used was left fallen to the side as she gasped, clutching her stomach again before her head snapped up, turning to her.
“No,” Agatha whispered. “No.”
Rio could only muster a look of dread in her eyes as her body felt heavy, but her Lady Death persona came forward, giving her strength. Agatha shook her head as Rio came forward, her steps composed of the strength she knew was waning. She wasn’t here for her. She was here for him. She came closer as Agatha’s eyes never left hers.
“It cannot be.”
Rio froze, her demeanor colder than she wished, “It must be.”
Agatha clutched at her chest, a quiet gasp leaving her lips, “You do this and I will hate you forever.”
Something stabbed her heart, her eyes burning with something foreign. There was water in her one eye as she stared at her love, slowly nodding her head.
“Please, let him live! Please, my love!”
It stabbed her heart repeatedly, tearing through it and leaving it bleeding. The blood dripped through her being, wrapping her bones and binding them tightly until they snapped. Breaths left her in rapid movement as she froze time just for a mere moment to figure out what was happening to her. Her love was begging her, a plea that opened a wound in her heart. She could hear the blood fall in her empty cavity of her body. Then she couldn’t feel the beating…there wasn’t warmth left in her. The heart finally stopped beating. There was no more thought. The balance would have to deal with it and she would hold on as long as she could possibly bear.
“Please! Please!” Agatha groaned in agony. “Please!”
Death casted her powers into the universe, gathering the time she could for him in her palm before bestowing it into the lifeless infant inside her wife. She had never done this before, but she had no choice.
“I can offer only time,” she breathed, the pain making her nose flair as a wave of relief washed over Agatha.
“How much time?” she took a breath, her eyes closing. “How much?”
Rio couldn’t bear to look at her any longer. Well, she couldn't bear Agatha looking at her. She remained out of sight coming beside Agatha, coaxing as she pushed. Rio knew she couldn’t hear her or feel her, the pain Agatha was in casted everything out. She didn’t care. Rio knew she was there for them, and for her, that’s all that mattered. Their son had six years before she would return for him. She couldn’t tell Agatha that. She would only beg for more time, but Rio didn’t know what more time would do. Something sensed that it would kill Agatha, leaving Nicholas alone and motherless, and what kind of Mother would Lady Death be? Agatha wouldn’t want that life for her child, Rio knew that from the very depths of her being. Either way, Agatha would hate her, but she would love their son, and in that extension of love, she would love Rio.
A loud cry echoed around them as Rio pulled away but stayed, watching the happiness and relief that flooded her wife. Her heart began beating again, but weaker. Something was wrong, the wound deep within it. They both stared at the crying babe as he seemed to reach for both of them. Agatha laughed with relief, holding the babe close.
“I spoke no spell,” she breathed out. “I said no incantation. You, you were made from scratch.”
Agatha leaned her head back against the tree, smiling up into the skies as the babe settled. Rio felt the pull on the babe though, the way it yearned and reached out for Rio, even on borrowed time, but it didn’t touch her. It was there and one day it would come. She stayed with them in the in-between, casting the Death flower she was holding by Agatha. Agatha didn’t notice, or chose not to. She wasn’t sure which as Agatha turned to the boy in her arms.
“Nicholas,” she said softly. “Nicholas Scratch.”
She knew Agatha would rather die than give him the name that haunted her, Harkness, but something figured the name was there: Nicholas Scratch Harkness-Vidal. It was a mouthful and in truth didn’t fully go together, but this was their son, their life they created…on borrowed time.
***
Rio watched over Nicky with Agatha, but she never meant to reveal herself to him. She stayed in the shadows when her job would allow, watching him grow and seeing how he helped his mother kill witches. She wondered if Agatha was only doing it to spend more time with him, as if the lives she took would buy him more time. It would not, but she wasn’t going to tell her, especially if it was an excuse to see them. Agatha knew she was there, even when she didn’t show her shadow. There was always a small smile, a twinkle in the eye of hope for maybe Rio would show herself. Rio could not. She wanted to, but she knew the moment she did, she would want to stay and help Agatha raise the boy. She wanted to be the family Agatha silently dreamed of, but they both knew it was impossible. What a cruel fate…
The one day when he was three, Rio was lounging in a nearby tree, casting flowers around them some distance away. She stared down at the boy, staring particularly at his chin and his darker skin. She wondered if she was imagining it. Did the boy look like her or was he truly made from scratch? She could see Agatha in his face, but there was something more. Something that made her black heart flutter. Agatha was holding him, her hand running through already long locks much like Rio had done to get Agatha to sleep when she was upset.
Agatha looked up, catching Rio’s eye, “I know you’re there. I feel you watching at a distance. It doesn’t help, Rio. I keep thinking you’re going to take him from me.”
Rio let herself materialize, sitting up on the branch, “I watch to keep you both safe. He still has time.”
Her wife looked down at him, “He looks like you, you know. His smile is yours. It hurts sometimes, Rio, seeing that smile.”
She looked away, staring off into the distance, not able to respond.
“And he has his father’s chin,” Agatha said, making them both laugh.
Rio snorted, playing with her dagger as the memories came back. The careful banter they would have together while doing their “work and play,” even in the cottage they had called home, and to the loving and tender moments they shared in privacy. No one would ever know of those moments where they held onto each other so tightly, protecting the other like one of them wasn’t a cosmic being.
“So, he is mine?” Rio asked after they both calmed from laughter.
Agatha nodded, wrapping her arms around him tighter, “Yes, he loves nature, the river, and flowers the most. He is always drawn to the flowers you grow.”
“How do you know that’s me?” Rio raised her eyebrow.
Agatha huffed at her, “Oh, I don’t know. Tell me how purple Rio Dipladenias appear from nowhere and grow in Salem.”
Rio chuckled, still twirling her dagger.
“He loves singing too. Right now, it’s a mix of blabber and humming, but he decided he likes the word ‘road.’”
Death peered down at him again, staying in her tree as Agatha carefully moved the boy for her to get a better look at him, “You can come here. Just, don’t wake him. He shouldn’t have to know you just yet.”
The words stung, but nonetheless they were true. Nicky shouldn’t know her, it wasn’t his time to know her yet and a three year old would only latch himself to her. She landed on the ground with a quiet thump, walking over to where their boy slept in Agatha’s arms. She sat down, leaning over Agatha’s shoulder. She took in her scent, not able to help it. It was still so sweet, so full of herbs and life…and power. But one full of growth and decay brought her attention back to their son. She felt the pull from him, the borrowed time not reaching but she didn’t know what would happen if he would touch her. She kept her hands to herself studying his small face. She was reminded of Agatha as she slept. His face relaxed, a smile etched into his round face. His breathing was shallow though, almost not there, like how she breathed when she chose too.
They both froze when Nicky stretched in his mother’s arms, arms subconsciously reaching out for Rio. Rio pulled away, her magic taking her back into the tree just as Agatha jerked him away from her. His eyes opened and they were brown with a touch of blue and green, but nonetheless her eyes. Rio let herself disappear as Agatha turned her attention to the boy.
“Mama, who was that?”
“Who was who, dear?” Agatha asked, but her voice laced in worry.
Rio reached out, her magic sending him back to sleep as she rematerialized, “Te veo, mi corazón.”
To whom she said it too, she wasn’t sure.
Nicky didn’t meet Rio until a year later. He was a smart little thing, smarter than both Rio and Agatha had expected of him. Rio was near them, having just reaped the souls of witches Agatha left behind. She didn’t mean to follow them, in fact she thought she was following a different pull. It was different. It wasn’t Agatha and it wasn’t a soul in need of reaped. She walked by the river as the night settled. Loons sang with the owls, the crickets more quiet as the moon was the brightest light around, reflecting off the river beside her. She hummed the song her son had made with his mother. It was a sweet tune, one full of the life and innocence a child could muster.
She stopped by the river, looking out across it. She had no thoughts, just allowing herself to exist as she hummed softly. She didn’t hear him, nor did she sense him. To say she flinched, would be an understatement. She jumped, her feet almost going into the river as she whipped around, staring down at a young boy who stared back at her confused.
“How do you know that?”
She stared at Nicky, his hair tied back, a cloak that was too big for him was wrapped around him to shield him from the chill. She looked around for the sight of Agatha before finding their connection and realized she was asleep nearby. Their boy had wandered off and somehow found Rio. The boy came closer without fear, still staring up at her with big eyes.
“Mama and I sing that song when we walk the road.”
She nodded, not really sure how to handle a child. When they passed, she would carry them to the veil, them having no concept of what happened and they didn’t speak to her. She bent down before him, studying his face, seeing both of them staring back at her.
“Yes, it is a very nice song,” she finally replied when his little hands reached out.
She froze, feeling how they cupped her face with as much tenderness as Agatha. His hands were smooth, softer than any moss or skin she touched. She felt her heart twitch, the scab over it mending slightly as she closed her eyes, allowing him to hold her face with tiny hands. She never felt this, not this type of love. For Agatha, it was her entire being, a burning passion and depth that formed and started her heart. For this child, it was different, just as deep, but something that felt like it could stop her heart if anything happened to him. She opened her eyes, seeing his eyes searching in her face.
“I know you,” he settled on, still holding her face while his tiny nose wrinkled much like Agatha’s did when she was thinking deeply.
“Do you?” she asked, keeping his height.
He nodded, “Well, you’re always around me and Mama, always at night. Sometimes you go away for long times, but you come back.”
She didn’t reply, not sure what to tell the boy.
Then his eyes lit up, “You’re my mother too.”
Death felt herself pale and light up all at once. She didn’t understand how he knew that.
Damn, this kid is smart. Of course he inherited that from me too, she thought, knowing Agatha would playfully hit her, saying the brain was all hers.
She breathed in sharply, unsure whether to lie or tell him the truth. Agatha wouldn’t want him to know the truth, but something else in her stirred. She had to get Nicky to understand when she would come for him to not be scared, to not run from her, and for him to say goodbye to Agatha. Four was still too young, so she decided to only smile softly, caressing his face and tucking a chestnut lock away from his eyes. She still didn’t know what to say to the boy, but instead cupped her hands in front of them, letting her Green swirl to reveal an azalea. Nicky squealed as she placed it in his hands.
“What is it, mother?” he asked, touching the flower softly.
“An azalea,” she replied, not bothering to correct him. “They grow here and are one of your Mama’s favorite flowers.”
The boy smiled brighter before looking up at her, “You’re a witch, but a Green Witch. Mama says not to hurt Green Witches, but to not trust witches.”
She smiled at that, “I am the Green Witch, honey.”
An idea sparked behind her eyes as they started to wander the forest, the boy fascinated by the wildlife around them. She would see him, get him to not be scared of her. She would teach him the ways of being Green Witch, and get him to understand Death. She stared down at him as they both stared at the rabbit in the distance. She smiled, seeing the same gentle gaze Agatha would give Senõr Scratchy. They roamed the forest together, Rio casting her magic out making him laugh and run with delight. It set her heart ablaze, watching her son so engrossed with the concept of life around them.
Just as the moon reached its highest peak, they were back to the river, Nicky sitting in her arms. They watched the rumble of the falls together, calming both of them down. It didn’t take long with the sound of the river and the comfort of a mother for Nicky to rest his head against Rio’s chest. A light snore came from him as he nuzzled closer into her, tucking his head underneath her chin. She moved slightly, seeing Agatha doing this hundreds of times. She kissed the top of his head and picked him up with ease. He clung to her in his sleep, trying to nuzzle deeper into her neck. Her heart soared, stopping for a moment and taking it in. She walked slower, not wanting to return him just yet. She was his mother, how could she part from him? But a silent voice also reminded her that she was also Lady Death.
She made the silent journey back to where Agatha slept, now scared she would wake and find their son missing or worse, find that her son had run off with his other mother. As she approached, she froze. A body was sleeping with Agatha, a child in her arms. It wasn’t his time, but here Nicky was in her arms, sleeping soundly. Her eyes watered again and she let the tears run as she approached them. Her heart stuttered as she stared down at the bodies. Rio wasn’t present to humans. Rio was in the in-between, and it appears their son was too. She never met a soul who was able to do that, but it made sense to her. Nicholas was the child of Lady Death.
Rio held him for a little longer than she should have. She never pictured being a mother, but here she was, holding her son while her wife slept. She swallowed hard, leaning down and setting the soul back in its body. Nicky’s body took a big breath, before settling closer into Agatha’s warmth. She leaned down, brushing chestnut away from his ear.
“This is our secret, Nicky,” she let her magic wrap around him, installing it into his thoughts. “Don’t tell Mama. Te veo, mijo.”
The months passed and Nicky never said a word to his Mama. Every night she would return to him, sometimes it was only briefly as she explained she had a job to do, but wanted to give him an azalea. Every time she bloomed a flower, Nicky would always squeal in delight, holding the precious thing tenderly. She explained the cycle to him, the constant flow of growth and decay. Together, they watched the nocturnal creatures play, hunt, and feed. She would explain how the bunny’s sacrifice allowed the fox to live and how the carcass would feed the earth. She explained how rivers provided both life and destruction, and when it poured, how that also gave life and destruction. Nicky fell in love with the earth around them, climbing the trees with her and running. When he would fall, Lady Death would be there, pressing a tender kiss to the wound and healing it. Nicky would hug her before running with her again. He brought a different type of life for her.
When he was five, he asked a question where in that moment she wanted to strangle Agatha. He was getting more bold, venturing out even when Rio could not meet him. At one point, she had caught him staring at his body before turning to her. She had only shook her head, motioning him forward to explain the plane they stood in.
“Mother?”
“Yes, mijo?”
“Out of death, there is life, right?”
Rio nodded, handing him a couple more stones as he built little houses with them.
“Then what does Mama get out of killing witches?” he stared up at her with big hazel eyes.
Rio’s eyes widened, unsure how to explain the power that ran through her wife, yet she hated that this was a question for her and not for Agatha. Her gaze moved over his head, staring in the direction of her sleeping wife. She wanted to kill her, herself. As much as Agatha wanted Death away from her son, she still welcomed it with open arms. She looked down at him again, knowing he did not possess the patience Agatha had with her silence nor the knowledge of when to move on to the next question.
She tongued her cheek before explaining, “Mama takes power from the undeserving in a way.”
“But why?” he pressed on, pausing in his building.
She chose to shake her shoulders, “That’s a question for Mama, mijo.”
For once Nicholas accepted her answer, going back to playing with the stones before pausing again, “Mother, why do you and Mama not talk to one another? You always come when she is asleep.”
Rio sucked in her breath, knowing one day this question would come. She looked again over his head before motioning him to come forward. He did, climbing into her lap as she played with his hair, soothing him. She held him tightly wondering if this was the moment she would tell him. He didn’t have long. He had seven more months until she would come and take him away. Three months until his birthday, and after taking the time of six years and four months, he was out. She looked back at where Agatha was and something told her to take him deeper into the forest, away from the river just for a moment. He didn’t protest, his arms wrapping around her neck until they were deep enough and she sat down on a log, having him look up at her.
“Mijo, there is something that I need to tell you. Something that I need you to understand.”
He nodded, never leaving her eyes as she placed an azalea in his hands to help relax his nerves.
“You understand the balance?” she asked, her eyes studying him.
“Yes, mother. We are all a part of it: growth and decay.”
She nodded, “Yes, we are all. One day, it will be your time just as it will be Mama’s and so many other people.”
“Not yours?”
Fuck, she swore, not ready to explain who she is.
She shook her head, “No, mijo, I will explain in a moment though. Are you scared of the balance?”
He shook his head, “No, I understand, mother. I really do.”
How do I tell him? How can I?
Lady Death pushed forward through it, something inside of her whispering to her that her son was strong enough, “Well, mijo, my job is to help the souls to the next life. To a new beginning and a new balance. As your Mama brought you into this world, it will be my job to take you to next.”
Nicky paused, his brain working before he smiled up at her, “So life moves forward after?”
She nodded, giving him a saddened smile as her heart felt like stopping again, “Yes, mijo.”
Nicky continued though, “So when you come for me, I have to say goodbye to Mama?”
Rio caught the sob in her throat, not understanding how much strength Nicky had for asking her this. No one ever had enough strength hearing they were going to die soon and yet her son seemed to welcome it with open arms. She held back the tears, not understanding how two mortals could finally bring the humanness out of her instead of the rot that normally plagued Death’s body. She cleared her throat, knowing the only reason she kept herself together was because she was a mother.
She nodded slowly, “Yes, you are going to have to say goodbye to Mama, but she will see you again.”
“And you, Mother? Will I see you again?”
She couldn’t bring the lie to her throat as she nodded, kissing his head.
“Is that why you two don’t talk? Is Mama upset that you will take me?”
This she could lie about, “Mama and I don’t talk because I am too busy with work or I am busy with you, mijo. Now, don’t you worry about us. Your Mama and I always work it out. Now, come on. You still need to sleep, papi.”
Rio carried him back to Agatha as he sang his song to her, new lyrics, but how he loved to just sing: “Down, down, down the road, down the wind-y road!”
Upon laying him back in his body, she turned to her wife, knowing what was to come. She couldn’t help herself and with her Green, she placed an azalea in her wife’s hair. She might hear about it later, but for now, she allowed her love for her to win.
***
Rio wanted to vomit, to scream, to kill, anything but accept the pull that was calling her. She knew it by heart and she knew it would come today. The wound in her heart reopened, bleeding inside her, but she could do nothing but accept her role. Rio let herself appear, keeping in the in-between. The tavern was lively, clapping along as a familiar voice sang to them. Then he saw her, his eyes lighting up, but Rio shook her head. She moved behind him as he continued singing.
It’s time to come home, mijo.
With that she forced herself into the woods, screaming into the void. She didn’t care if she scared the birds, or any of the animals. She didn’t care who heard her as she collapsed, pounding her fist into the ground. Something festered in Rio as she curled up on the ground, crying real tears. It was darker than rot Death would sport and something more contagious than cordyceps. It spread through her body as her heart once more stopped beating. It was hatred, but it wasn’t at Agatha nor at herself. It was at the universe. How could they do this to her? To her– Lady Death. It was twisted, more twisted than any of the plans her and Agatha conceived together, and they were twisted. Her job was Death, take the souls, stay away from human emotions– fuck she wasn’t even supposed to have any. Yet, something allowed her to have them, to have love for a woman and that love be so strong that it created a child. Then to make that child stillborn? To make it where Rio had to steal time against the balance just so her love could experience some other form of love than the twisted, possessive love she bore for her? Then to make her fall in love with her own boy that was supposed to die right now, but she couldn’t bring herself to take him?
Tonight, I will tonight and the balance will be restored.
Night had fallen faster than she would have liked and there was a new moon. The bugs and owls were silent, even the bats. Rio found them next to a stream, her son curled up next to his mama and Agatha clinging tightly to him. There was no light other than the fire for them. With ease, Rio conjured a green torch, staying her distance and pulling at Nicky’s writhing soul. Nicky rubbed his eyes, sitting up and spotting her. She held her stomach for a moment before raising her hand, waving her fingers at him before motioning him forward with a crook of her finger. Nicky moved his Mama’s arm off of him, ready to head over to her, but she stopped him, pointing to Agatha and nodded him to her. As she told him before, Nicky placed two kisses on his Mama’s cheek before coming to her. He smiled up at her, taking her hand as she made a bridge appear, heading into the veil.
Nicky rubbed his eyes again, “I’m so tired, Mother.”
Rio stopped, no longer needing the torch as her dead heart even lurched at his words. She bent down, picking him up and cradling him just as Agatha had done when he was born. He nuzzled into her, clinging to her tightly as they walked further into the veil and into Purgatory. Nicky didn’t move from her grasp as tears ran from her eyes, not able to stop them, but her son, his soul was too tired for him to notice. Selfishly, she took her time through the orange haze and barren trees. No other souls approached them, yet they all knew she could magick them before the next veil, but Rio needed more time, just a little more to hold him to make up for the lost years she did not.
Her steps were unstable, and weak as the veil came into sight before her. She had to let him go. Death thanked a part of herself for not being human as Rio, the ever strong and graceful Rio, felt like collapsing. She could barely go on, but everything told that she must. Her composure was waning and so many times she had to swallow whatever was coming up her throat. She finally knelt in front of the veil, Nicky standing up and staring at her. He smiled at her, cupping her face like he did when he first met her. Rio had sucked back the tears luckily as she smiled back at him.
“You ready?”
He nodded, “Yes, Mother. This is a new adventure, isn’t it?”
She chuckled, “Yes, one you will take on by storm until your Mama can join you.”
“And you?”
“And me,” she somehow said it.
“Promise?” he asked her.
She nodded, “I promise, one day after your Mama.”
She gathered him in her arms again, taking in the smell of growth and decay for one last time. He nuzzled into her neck before he was the one to let go.
“I love you, Mother. Te veo!”
With that, Nicholas laughed and ran into the veil as if he was running into the woods.
Rio stared after him, her human form losing itself as tears dripped off her bones and into the soil.
“I love you too, mijo.”
Rio felt a part of herself slip away from her. A thread pulled from her soul, fraying it and tearing it. The world stopped moving around her even when she went to the mortal plane. His laughter echoed in the forest around her as she walked on, but everything looked so dim. The pine, in their deep greens, and the moss in the lighter tones, mixing with the browns of the earth– all of it looked so dim and lifeless to Rio. The tears didn’t stop even when the sun rose. She froze, a scream echoing in the forest. It was Agatha. She ran, not able to stop herself until she found her by Nicholas’s cold body.
Agatha turned, “Please, please, my love. I want more time. I want more time.”
Rio fell to her knees before her as Agatha seemed to still in her grief for a moment, seeing the tears on Lady Death, “I can’t, that was all I was able to give him.”
For a moment, Agatha didn’t move, matching the tears that ran from both of their eyes. Then Agatha choked, a sob coming from her lips that pulled more from Rio, but Agatha screamed at her.
“NO NO, YOU BRING HIM BACK! YOU BRING HIM BACK! YOU DON’T GET TO CRY!”
Rio flinched, her body backing away as purple cracked around them.
“I CAN’T!” she screamed back.
“PLEASE… please, please, please,” Agatha collapsed again. “You bring him back, you bring him back! Please, my love–”
Lady Death left. Her magic brought her to her throne room where she lashed out, destroying it and shattering the windows. She threw herself to the stone floor, not caring who would see. She clutched at her chest, wishing to rip that damn thing out, but she could not. So she laid there, allowing the pain to crack her bones until everything grew silent.
Yet in her silent devastation, two single threads remained, binding her to the memory of her wife and to the memory of their child in a way nothing could ever undo it.