I love you, I'm Sorry
The months passed within a blink for Lady Death. Her heart had stopped, and once more it was like before…before the love, the humanity that Agatha Harkness offered her. Lady Death was who she was meant to be, but Lady Death could not shake the fact that something was missing. The dead heart in her chest lingered with weight, tearing at her as the seasons changed. Their connection wasn’t severed but rather frayed, where the edges were just hanging onto her. When she would get close, the heart would pinch her, like it was pulling apart. It was a scar.
She bowed her head upon her broken throne, her throne room in a state of destruction. As Agatha Harkness killed her away across Salem and the colonies and eventually into the world and made a name for herself, Lady Death was behind her, cleaning up her messes. For a time, Agatha didn’t linger and never hoped until one day she was there, and they fought. They fought until neither of them– and by neither of them—until Agatha could physically not stand anymore. Rio hurt her until then, her anger outcasting the hurt the woman had dragged her through, but somehow the love was deeper. The first night it happened, Rio took her back to the cottage Agatha was staying in, licking her wounds until nothing was left but the smear of blood. Agatha didn’t move from Rio’s hold at that moment. Rio, broken just as much as the woman in front of her, moved like muscle memory. Her lips met Agatha’s, a silent ‘I love you’ until the sheets were back underneath them. This was a different type of fight, one bringing both pleasure and pain to the surface. When Agatha fell asleep, Rio slipped away, still not able to wrap her mind around what they had done. But then it happened again, and again, and again– a game of cat and mouse that neither could stop. And every time they found each other, a silent agreement was passed between them: they were two hurt and broken souls who still loved each other but could never forget what was said and what had happened.
A rot took place inside Rio, but it wasn’t a rot that took over her body like when she would cry for the Green. No, this rot sparked something behind her eyes. She began diving deep into the fear she caused the humans, losing the glow of life in her cheeks. Her eyes sunk in, a black shadow plunging them further as she no longer tried to bring life to the rest of her human form. Her lips darkened, and her body grew as stiff as corpses. If Agatha wanted her to play the villain, then so be it. The rot would fester for her, a deep hatred that oozed from the scar.
How dare she take a cosmic entity and make them love her? How dare Agatha Harkness find beauty and life in Death? How dare Agatha Harkness give Lady Death a heart, marry her, and rip it out after she gave her everything? Agatha Harkness wanted to play, then Lady Death would play to win. Their bond – the oath they took on the Blood Moon—was eternal. Agatha Harkness was hers, in every way, in both life and death. She belonged to Death.
The night Lady Death realized Agatha blamed her, she destroyed everything she was allowed to. She wanted to kill, to sink her dagger in something, but as Death, she was not allowed to kill. The irony practically choked her. She wanted to kill Harkness herself instead of her constantly running from her. At least in death, Lady Death could take what was rightfully hers before she could cross the veil. Oh, how she wanted her dead...
It had been a little over a year now since Nicky’s death, and nothing changed. They played the same game of cat and mouse and never spoke of him. Something inside them couldn’t do it anymore. The year had passed, and Death still had yet to fix the ruins of her home. The vines grew without order, wild and dangerous. Between the cracks in the floors grew flowers and poisons. Normally, Death had them specially grown along the walls and up her throne, but she did not care anymore. Something in the air changed around her as she sat up straighter, her jaw of bone cracking as she sat up tall. The jade crown on her head appeared as her cloak came up to hide that the human side was present. She watched as before her a bright light appeared, the already struggling plants around her, dying from the rare light that dared enter. The light left, but standing in its place was a human figure made of the stars above the earth. Lady Death didn’t move, staring at the other cosmic being, waiting for her respect. She snarled, her vines coming from her broken throne and racing towards the cosmic.
Before they could reach the being, she kneeled, “Lady Death, I didn’t think you still had it in you.”
Her voice echoed through her empty chambers, reaching down towards the empty halls. Lady Death stared, allowing her eyes to glow as her true form slowly crept forward. A flower bloomed in her hand, her dagger playing with it and feigning boredom. She didn't bother to reply, waiting patiently, always waiting.
Infinity cocked her head at her, “I came here to extend my condolences, Lady Death. I can’t imagine what it’s like having to deliver your own son–”
Vines came forward, wrapping around the entity. She knew they wouldn’t hold her sister for long, but it was all she could do to get her to stop. She didn’t need to be reminded; her own heart had stopped beating because of it.
“Enough, why are you really here? ” her voice boomed, rattling the structure of her home.
Infinity only waved through the vines like they were nothing. “To check on you. You really did a number to this place.”
Death snarled again, refusing her sibling’s gaze.
“I also wanted to ask you: how does a mortal make the most righteous of us fall in love with them and marry under a Blood Moon before creating a love child whose fate was, well, for a lack of better words, death? And then, how does that human’s pleas make Death bend fate, steal time, and disrupt the sacred balance?”
Rio stared at her sibling. Those were the same questions she was asking herself, ones that she had no answers for. Any time she was with her siblings, she would also curse at them for being stupid and for growing attached to humans. The kicker was that Infinity wasn’t even the original Infinity. The Infinity before her had fallen in love with a mortal on a different planet and decided to die with him. Yet Rio, Rio was there from the dawn of time. She watched her siblings and nephews fall in love dozens of times, this version of their soul choosing the love as their power recreated them. They were always the same though, but like this, they could live without their love, as all those memories of them were taken with the soul to the afterlife. Lady Death had always prided herself to never fall in love, to never get close to the humans, to never get involved... and here she was, the most involved out of all of them.
Infinity’s laugh echoed in her throne room, and everything in Rio wanted to reach out and rip it from its lungs.
“Even the One Above All was shocked at you, Lady Death. What could Agatha Harkness have that would interest Lady Death? I will say,” Infinity began circling her throne. “She is hot, nice catch, sis-”
Death grabbed her by the throat, throwing her to the ground before her throne, “ You stay away from her.”
Infinity only laughed sitting up, “Even after blaming you for your child’s death, you still love her. Well, you did foolishly bind your souls to hers. I don’t think any other cosmic has done that. That’s just psychotic, Rio. ” Infinity bored her gaze up at her, seeing if the mention of the name Agatha gave her would have a punch. Rio didn’t flinch, but something simmered underneath. “Rio Vidal, that’s really the name she chose for you, come on!”
Rio had heard enough, standing up and letting her float down the stairs, “If you came to gloat, Infinity, I would prefer if you would give me more time.”
“Actually,” Infinity stopped her. “I thought I would tell you the Salem Seven escaped their holds.”
Death froze, turning slowly, “I trapped the Seven to keep my son safe; they shouldn’t have been able to escape.”
“Yes, to keep your son safe, but now he is safe. Tell me, do you think they forgot their little vendetta against your wife? I wonder if they are on her right now. You know, beyond the killings, that witch sure does love to drink. It would be a shame if the Seven find her while she is drowning out the sorrows, but she’s Agatha Harkness!” Infinity smirked at her. “She fucks Lady Death and lives to tell about it–”
“Careful, Infinity,” Death growled, her grip tightening on the dagger.
“Mm,” she faked a frown. “I didn’t peg you as a lesbian, Death, but I guess there is always a gay one in the fam! Humor me, Lady Death. Do you two–” her finger pointed in her face before pulling back, both of her hands holding out two fingers up before putting them together “you know? In your skeletal form–”
It was too easy for Death, her earth magic out of all things, sending the cosmic being into the wall as she pulled her dagger out, on top of her in seconds. She placed the blade against her throat.
“You can’t,” Infinity snarled up at her. “You already pissed off the One Above All, imagine how he will get after he realizes you sent another cosmic’s soul to the Afterlife without his permission.”
Lady Death pulled back, her hands shaking with anger as she stepped over her sibling, “ Get out .”
“I’ll see you at the next family reunion, oh, and please bring your wife. I would love to meet the witch who fell in love with a heartless corpse.”
Death waited until she was gone before she cut through the veil. It didn’t matter if what her sibling said was to get under skin; consider it done. She hadn’t seen her wife in months, the last fight hitting Rio harder than she cared to admit. Rio unburied the connection between her and Agatha, allowing the blade to guide her. She stepped through, and as her sister said, Agatha was here. She looked around, noticing they were outside Salem, possibly Boston. She let Death melt away, her human form appearing and hidden under a black cloak as she looked around for the wild chestnut hair. The tavern was alive, the humans singing and dancing as women danced on top of the bars. Lowly and covenless witches were in every corner she looked. It made sense her wife would come here, but for Agatha Harkness to be stumbling drunk was not at all what she would think of her. Agatha Harkness was an addict, an addict to power, and sure Rio had nursed that addiction, but it was better than the broken soul who stared up at her all those years ago. She helped Agatha regain power in her life, away from her abusive mother and coven.
She went to the barkeeper, receiving a beer as her gaze drifted from person to person. Her witch was here. She could feel it, but where seemed to be the problem. She turned to the keeper, finding him talking to one of the women. Her powers easily tuned out the music and laughter.
“How much, witch?” the keeper asked.
“You don’t have to pay me. You’re doing us a favor as well. They say she has killed so many of us.”
The keeper looked around, but Death was never caught.
“She killed my wife. Are you sure she will suffer?” his fists tightening as his sides.
“The Seven have been hunting Harkness since she killed their coven. They will make her death painful. They should be here soon. Where is Harkness?”
The barkeeper nodded outside, “She stepped out a couple minutes ago. She will be back for another beer.”
At that, Rio stood, making her way across the tavern, ignoring the calls from men as she went. She had to get to Agatha before the Seven reached her. The moment the door opened, she felt the raw magic bubbling and coursing through the air. Rio let out a sigh, stepping from the porch and leaning against the railing. Agatha Harkness, in all of her glory, stood in the center of the street yelling with another witch.
“The Road would never want someone like you. Find your own coven,” her wife taunted.
The witch’s eyes narrowed as her lip rose. This time it was different; the witch came at her, grabbing her by the collar of her dress.
“Listen here, Harkness,” the witch snarled. “You are going to help me access the road in return for rescuing you from the Seven. They’re on their way for you, and I doubt even a witch as powerful as you can defeat them on your own.”
Agatha only smirked, the bottle dropping from her hand as she leaned forward. Rio froze something in her twisting as she tongued her cheek. Her wife kissed the witch. The plants were quick to wilt as Green crackled around Rio’s hands before the railing of wood beneath her snapped. Her eyes became dark, staring into the witch’s head as she didn’t seem like she wanted to pull away– she couldn’t pull away. Rio shook the weird feeling away, seeing what her witch was doing. She was siphoning her magic through her lips. The witch struggled against Agatha who pulled her in deeper as the powers soaked into her. The woman was shriveling against the purple witch until Agatha took the witch’s last breath and dropped her.
“Agatha Harkness,” the familiar whispers surrounded them.
“And here we go again,” Agatha groaned, swiping the bottle she dropped. “Don’t you bitches have anything else to do?”
Rio refused to let this play out, freezing the time around them as she moved. With an annoyed sigh, she grabbed her wife, pulling her through the veil and into her realm. Time started and all Rio had to do was wait for the screaming, the blasts of magic, and the venom that would spout from her mouth, but none of that came. She turned, looking down at the woman who stared at her with wide eyes.
“Rio?” Agatha gasped, the act she had played gone. She was never drunk in the first place.
“You really think I was gonna let the Seven have you?” she said, refusing to meet those eyes. “You’re still mine, sweetheart.”
Agatha seethed at that, but to her surprise, she didn’t fight. They dueled so many times, each time hurting each other worse and somehow loving each other more, but this wasn’t her Agatha. Her Agatha would be on her feet by now, probably pinning Rio on her throne and making some type of comment that would lead to one of them on their knees for the other. Rio raised an eyebrow, not understanding why her wife wasn’t freaking out on her like she usually did. Then something came that Rio hadn’t seen in decades. Agatha’s bleu eyes grew wide, a glossy film over them as her face grew red. Tears ran down her cheeks before Agatha threw her face down into her hands to muffle her sobs.
She moved before she could think, gathering the woman in her arms. Agatha moved into them, a muscle memory they both shared from so long ago. Agatha sobbed into her neck, her yells echoing down the halls for all to hear, but Rio didn’t care. Her wife was finally grieving in her arms like she should have that year ago. Swallowing hard, Lady Death stood picking Agatha up and carrying her through the halls just as she carried her the first time all those years ago. Her feet carried her fast until she turned into a cave where her bedchambers lay. She rarely used them, her magic lighting the candles around them before a fire roared to life. Rio wasn’t sure where to put her. The bed felt too intimate, so she chose the couch, sitting down with her wife in her lap and sobs racketing her body. Rio pressed her closer, feeling the tears drip down her neck as Agatha wrapped her arms around her tighter.
“Oh Nicky,” she sobbed, and it broke Death.
Death, ever so composed and famed for her stoicism, broke. She hadn’t cried real tears since the death of Nicky, but oh, how her heart lurched as she pulled her wife closer, crying with her. Rio felt the strange pain in her heart—the black heart that was now strangely beating again. She didn’t have time to question it, the darkness and hollowness washing upon her like a tidal wave. It pulled them both under, suffocating them in their own loss and grief. Together in the ocean, they clung to each other, each their own version of a type of raft or life jacket, unable to cling hard enough to each other as air constantly slipped away from them. Agatha’s sobs were heavy, coming from a place of containing them somewhere inside her until the boxes could no longer hold them. Rio, her safe space, the woman she constantly sobbed into when her mother would hit her too hard, when her words seeped into her like venom, and when she would wake from the nightmares of killing her coven over and over again.
Agatha now only dreamed of Nicky and of Rio taking him away in the night, and every time she woke, she searched for the cold comforting body of Death, but she was only met with either the empty space of grass or a scratchy empty cot that was still warmer than Death herself, but couldn’t compare to the safety. Agatha held tighter to the one person that only ever truly loved her more than her son. To the person who saw past the rumors, the walls she created, and past the pain that she carried…to the person she loved and hated so much that it hurt to hate her, but she hated herself for loving her. She didn’t notice Rio’s tears, still holding onto some composure of herself, Death didn’t make a noise. Instead, she drowned in silence and in the warmth of her wife.
They cried deep into the night, holding each other in their grief, in their hatred, and in their love. They held on until Agatha was too exhausted, promptly passing out on top of Rio, who never ceased in her tears. She couldn’t stop them, part of her blaming herself for allowing her wife more time with the boy. If she knew it would have broken her like this, then she never would have done it. She never expected the boy to die before he even breathed air, but he did…because he was part of her. Rio swallowed the sob back, turning to look down at Agatha. Agatha never knew that Nicky knew her as his other mother, and something told her to keep the secret. It was between the two of them. She caressed the hair away from her cheek, seeing the beauty her wife still had. She was out cold, her cheeks stained with dried tears. Come morning, Agatha would complain when she woke up that her neck hurt or her back would hurt from sleeping in an upright position against her. She was delicate, like all the other times she was with her love. Magic wrapped around her wife, her dress falling to the floor as they stood. The vines in the room grabbed one of Rio’s lace night dresses, dressing her wife with ease before the magic lifted the furs from the bed. With practiced moves, she settled them together in bed, Agatha refusing to release Death from her grip as in her sleep, her head rested on Rio’s breast, like so many nights before. And like those so many nights before, Rio’s fingers found their way through thick, long locks, erasing the stress and pain just for those moments for her wife. It was all she could do for her…one more attempt to show her how much Lady Death loved Agatha Harkness.
***
Rio felt the change before Agatha stirred. She braced herself, ready for more words and venom to be sprayed at her, but it never came. Agatha’s eyes opened, red and tired still. She watched as they took in their surroundings, her wife seeming to remember last night. Agatha sucked a breath in, her eyes closing again as she let it out, refusing to move from Rio’s hold. Agatha’s arms moved, stretching before curling them against her, clutching the pendant that Rio kept to the nightgown. She knew what was in it, the little comfort it brought her wife. They remained in that comforting silence until a thump on the bed caught their attention. At the bottom, Senõr Scratchy jumped from Rio’s floor, making his way over to the familiarity of the lovers. He curled up against Agatha before she brought him closer, her nose buried in the fur. She didn’t stop the tears that ran, the memories almost too much. She missed Agatha, the humanness, the rawness, and the emotional moments between them. She missed the mornings where Agatha would wake up and do the same thing without the tension that filtered in the air between them.
Hours seem to pass, but time wasn’t a concept Death understood too well. Agatha sat up slowly, Senõr Scratchy hopping away before Agatha turned to her. Fresh tears fell down her face as she straddled Death. Rio sat up, meeting her gaze ever so patiently as Agatha wiped the tears from Death.
“You cry?” were the first words out of her mouth.
Death hummed, “How kind of you to notice, sweetheart.”
Hurt flashed more through those eyes, but the damage was done long ago, “I didn’t mean it like that, my– Rio. Why? Why are you crying?”
She ignored the way Agatha almost said ‘love’, “Because my heart started beating again. Because I can’t fix us. I can’t tell you enough how many times I tried. I love you, and I’m sorry.”
Agatha studied her, the tears not stopping for either of them until the walls built around Agatha again. Rio could practically see it in front of her as the woman tried blocking her out, but Rio was a quick study. She knew the words were going to be venomous, but in fact there was no truth between them. She knew Agatha more than Agatha even knew herself.
“And I hate you. You can’t fix us because of what you did. You took him from me, Rio, in the middle of night without so much as a goodbye–”
“He said goodbye, Agatha. I made sure he did. The ghostly kisses against your cheek; that was his goodbye!”
“It wasn’t enough!”
“And it would have never been enough!” Rio snarled, but Agatha stayed in place, her hands steadying herself on Rio’s shoulder as she looked up, licking away some of the tears.
“You’re right, nothing with you would have been enough. You are nothing but the end–”
Rio snapped, “Oh that’s just rich. You knew that the moment you bound your soul to me. You knew exactly who you were getting in bed with, who you were crying to, what my role is— you knew this and yet now you try to double back on me.”
Agatha stood. She moved, looking around the room and finding her dress, “I can’t–”
“No, of course not. Where are you going to go? The Seven are still out there, and your name has been slandered through the colonies.”
“Away from you! Anywhere! Just let me out of here, Rio.”
“Agatha–”
“Rio–”
Death snarled at her again, “You can keep running if that’s what you really wish, but I’ll be there, waiting for you, Agatha. You can’t outrun Death, especially with your soul tethered to mine. You belong to me as I belong to you.”
Agatha’s own teeth bared at her, “Fuck you.”
Rio couldn’t help the crazed smirk that formed, “Next time, my love. Te veo. ”
With that, Rio pushed her through the realms, landing her in London, away from the Seven, away from Salem…somewhere where she would be safe…for now…