Prologue:

The first time Lexa meets Clarke, she had just died.

It was the night of Halloween. Lexa was walking home after begrudgingly attending a rowdy costume party. A loud commotion coaxed Lexa to a nearby alley, whereupon she stumbled across a man attempting to mug a girl. She immediately recognized Costia, the cute girl she had been crushing on since Bioethics and Law. Lexa boldly, stupidly, rushed forward to rescue her. She had dressed up as a cop for the costume party, and she convinced herself that she could scare him off with the right amount of intimidation and the cover of darkness. The thing was, the gun she carried was a fake.

His wasn't.

"Hold on officer!" Costia frantically presses down on the bullet wound, desperately trying to stem the blood that weeps onto the dirty cement. "Oh God, there's so much! Oh God!" Her cries escalate while shaky hands grasp at the bullet hole as if they were scooping the blood back into her body. "Stay with me. Please hang on!"

Huh, figures, Lexa muses, entirely too calm and definitely going into shock from the blood loss. First time she pays attention to me in years and she doesn't even recognize me.

Lexa takes in her bloody abdomen and the little hole just underneath her sternum. Shit, that's a lot of blood. She can't even feel the pain anymore. How strange. She takes in the sight of Costia, teary-eyed and pleading desperate words that are getting harder and harder to hear. Lexa has never felt more exhausted in her life (nor does she think she ever will).

She lets her head tilt back and thud against the brick wall she's braced against, her eyes drifting to the narrow strip of starry night visible from the floor of the alley. Her foggy mind marvels at how amazing and unfathomable the universe is.

There are worse ways to die, I suppose. Lexa feels her eyelids drooping as if iron anchors are pulling down on her eyelashes. Her chest moves slower and slower until there's barely any movement left. Her vision fades until only the sparkling stars remain.

This…

is not…

so…

"Not bad at all, Lexa Woods."

Huh?

There is a small gentle press to the center of Lexa's forehead. Immediately, her whole body floods with vibrant energy that zips from her head all the way to the tips of her toes. She feels like she's floating, her body experiencing the antithesis of what it was just a second ago. Did she swallow a star or something?

"It was a noble death. You should be proud, Lexa. Not even I see deaths like these too often."

The voice is smooth and low, flowing over Lexa like cool water. There is comfort laced in the husky quality of the voice, similar to the hushed words uttered by mothers to their fussy children.

Lexa finally manages to pry her eyes open only for them to go wide in shock. She is still in the alley, but it is now completely abandoned. Standing a few feet away, surrounded by the ethereal glow of blue and black light, is a woman. Or at least she thinks she a woman. She definitely is one physically, with her generous curves and graceful features, but there is definitely something…otherworldly about her. She is garbed entirely in a body length cloak that trails behind her on the ground. A billowing hood covers the top of her head and pools on top of her shoulders. The cloak is bathed in blue electricity, though it doesn't crackle so much as thrum along the hems of the mantle.

Everything about the woman that isn't hidden beneath the cloak is completely white. A sheer dress clings to her feminine frame like satin. Her skin is so pale it seems translucent and glows despite the lack of light in the alley. Her hair looks nearly white at first glance, though Lexa now can see the streaks of blonde hair that cascade down her shoulders in waves. Her eyes are the palest shade of blue. Lexa would have described them as icy were it not for the warmth seeping from her eyes. Sky. Yes, the lightest of blue skies. That's more accurate. Pale lips, curled into a small smile, contain the only hint of pink that exists in her entire façade.

The woman is incredibly beautiful, that Lexa has absolutely no doubt. But her unearthly complexion still gives Lexa pause about exactly how much of this vision is real.

That, and the fact that the pale woman is clutching a giant scythe in her hand.

"W-Who are you?"

The woman raises one pale eyebrow and waggles the scythe in her hand. "Isn't it a bit obvious?"

Lexa gulps, feeling completely unprepared to tackle her current situation. She wonders if she were still living, would her heart be racing right now?

Lexa looks into light blue eyes and finds sympathy etched into them. She looks back down at her soaked shirt, her hand ghosting over her wound in silent contemplation.

"So…I'm dead."

The woman's elegant features are filled with quiet sadness as she dips her head. "Yes."

Lexa nods her head slowly, her bewildered look and rapid blinking the only indication that she's processing the information.

"Well, okay then."

"Okay then."

Silence stretches between them. It isn't awkward. It feels reverent, appropriate. A necessary moment of silence to acknowledge the life that had passed, the tragic loss of potential, and the reality of death.

After a long moment, Lexa looks back up at the glowing woman. She's waiting patiently, both of her hands clutching the scythe as she leans into it, her cheek gently pressing into the wooden staff. Her face is kind and soft. Lexa thinks she even sees a bit of admiration and nervousness in the woman's expression.

"Is Costia safe?"

"Yes, she is."

"Good, good," Lexa replies, nodding her head again. At least she didn't die for nothing.

"That was a very brave thing you did."

"It was stupid."

"Maybe. But that woman is safe because of you. She'll remember your sacrifice for the rest of her life. That man is a convicted rapist. Who knows what he would have done to her."

Lexa silently nods again. It seems to be the only thing she's capable of doing ever since she…died. She looks up at the being in front of her, and suddenly the craziness of her situation hits her. Never in her life had she imagined that Death would come in the form of a young blonde woman. She imagined skulls with toothy grins, emaciated grey bodies, maybe even a severe man in three-piece suit. Not a pretty girl with an easy smile and an almost bashful posture.

No, never in her life did she ever think Death would be so beautiful.

"So, you're the Grim Reaper, huh?"

"That I am. Have been for a while now," the woman answers, her eyes not quite hiding the sadness and wistfulness Lexa hears in her voice.

"Have been?" Lexa's curiosity peaks at the implication. "So you weren't always the Grim Reaper?"

She shakes her head. "No. A long time ago I was just like you. A soul who roamed the ground. This…" she gestures towards her scythe, "is penance."

Lexa chews on the woman's words, her eyebrows furrowing as she quickly skims all her knowledge of afterlife lore and religious iconography. She only stops when she hears the woman before her chuckle. The sound reminds her of colored sunlight spilling through the stained glass of a dark cathedral.

"Don't think about it too hard, Lexa. It's a story for another time."

Lexa only creases her eyebrows even more in her growing confusion. She glances at the vision of a woman in front of her, taking in the youth of her appearance, the personality in her expression, the eyes that held pain and scars that her flesh no longer showed. Had she not been so clearly supernatural in attire and aura, Lexa would have thought her as just another pretty girl on the street with her own slew of personal demons. She might have even crushed on her like the hopeless gay she is.

Lexa swallows, trying to calm down the butterflies that suddenly fluttered in her stomach. "So, if you were once human, did you have a name?"

The woman jerks her head at Lexa as if taken aback by the question. Her jaw drops slightly in surprise, her blue eyes wide as they stare at Lexa. After a mere second, she snaps her jaw together and drops her gaze to the cement floor. The woman was quick to gain back her composure, but not fast enough to prevent Lexa from noticing how her eyes had glistened and her jaw had trembled.

"No one's ever…I mean not since before…" Lexa hears the roughness in the woman's voice, the unwanted emotion that is tampered with a swallow and a quick intake of breath.

Blue eyes suddenly connect with Lexa's with a gaze so charged and intense it shakes Lexa more than anything she had felt in life. Lexa's heart might have stopped beating were it not already stilled in her chest.

"Clarke," the blonde whispers, her voice suddenly as young and innocent as she looks. "My name was Clarke."

Lexa feels a grin spread across face as the name washes through her. It made sense – a beautiful name for a beautiful girl. "Hello, Clarke. It's nice to meet you."

Clarke's face brightens as if she hadn't heard her name spoken through another's lips in a very long time. A full smile splits her face, and Lexa wonders if she is allowed to feel this content as a dead person.

She stares at the blonde before her, that stupid silly grin still plastered on her face. She doesn't know how long she stares at Clarke, but eventually she does register that it's been some time (if that concept even applies now that she's dead) since she passed on. Suddenly embarrassed by her ogling, Lexa pushes off the brick wall and surges up onto her feet, completely unfazed by the bloody mess on her belly. She preoccupies herself by dusting off nothing from her thighs and arms. Her eyes can't help but flicker back to the blonde in front of her.

"So…how long does this normally take? I've never really done this before."

"It takes as long as it takes," Clarke replies, shrugging her shoulders unworriedly and disturbing some of the blue electricity around her. "The process builds in a bit of time for each soul to get accustom to their state before I escort them onwards. That time shifts and changes depending on the soul and the extent of my demand."

From experience, Clarke knows she has some power over how long she remains with a soul. She's only been forced away in the past when large disasters struck and left many souls in demand of passage. She's stretched out a few and hurried some, usually depending on her mood. Looking at young woman before her, Clarke already knows she will be staying longer than she needs to.

"So is that what you do? You go around the world and take lives?"

"I don't take lives. I guard them," Clarke retorts, an edge of annoyance in her defensive tone. Clarke sighs. "I don't have the touch of death, if that's what you're asking."

Clarke walks till she is standing next to Lexa and rests against the brick wall, her cloak billowing and letting off trails of delicate blue light in her wake.

"There exists a finite number of souls in the world. They are reincarnated in an infinite cycle between 'life' and 'the beyond'. When people die, their souls must be collected and passed onto the realm beyond until they are called upon again. My job is to make sure those souls are protected after death."

Clarke sighs again, not entirely sure why her whole body suddenly seems so tired. She notices how the glow on her pale skin diminishes just a fraction. She's been doing this a long time.

She looks up from the ground where her eyes had been trained on to see green eyes staring curiously at her. Clarke has been doing this a long time, and even still she hasn't seen a pair of eyes quite as stunning as Lexa's. The swirling blue-green eyes seem to see how exhausted Clarke feels. Her voice is soft and understanding when she speaks again.

"Do you have any control over where souls go? When they return back to the world?"

"No. My only task is to collect and guard them until they are ready to leave."

"Hmm," Lexa hums, her eyes suddenly playful as her long fingers rub the point of her chin. "So you can't make me into a rich princess who does nothing all day but sigh and brush her hair?"

Clarke lets out a full laugh, enjoying vitality the tumblings in her chest bring back to her tired soul. She glances over at Lexa, who is looking at her with nothing short of admiration. "Alas, I cannot. But something tells me that if I did you would be completely and utterly bored out of your mind."

Now it was Lexa's turn to let out a hearty laugh, and Clarke thinks there are few things outside of the brunette's voice that she's enjoyed quite so much in her long existence. Lexa's eyes crinkle as she smiles at Clarke. "I guess we'll just have to see for ourselves, won't we?"

The chuckles fade away between the two until all that remains is a comfortable silence. Clarke waits patiently, as she always does with every soul she accompanies. But this time, she feels a small part of her tug at the thought of this moment ending. She is pulled away from the thoughts at the sound of her name delicately passing through the other girl's lips. She doesn't try to hide the shudder of pleasure that ripples through her. It's been far too long since she's heard her name uttered in a fashion that isn't filled with contempt. It's been even longer since her name was spoken by someone as softly and reverently as Lexa.

"Hmm?"

"Thank you," Lexa's voice is gentle and sincere, "for being here with me."

Clarke's eyes soften as she gazes at the young, brave girl in front of her. "Always."

They share another long look at each other and bask in the comfort that seems so readily available between them. It's another long while of casual glances, amusing small talk, and gentle smiles before Lexa pushes off against the wall she and Clarke were leaning on.

She looks back at Clarke with a sad but sincere smile on her face. "I think I'm ready."

Clarke returns her rueful smile and gently nods. "Okay, then."

She joins Lexa by her side and holds the scythe steadily in her hand. She lifts the staff and taps the ground firmly. A light appears before them, slowly growing more and more until it is as tall and wide as they are. Glowing tendrils expand and caress the air around them, nearly gracing the two girls currently basking in its presence.

Lexa's eyes widen in awe and wonder as she takes in the swirling galaxy before her. Even at a distance, she can feel the pull of the portal on her soul. She's never quite felt anything like it before. She's never felt this good before. The portal feels like pure undiluted life, providing her soul with delicious nourishment.

Lexa glances over at Clarke, a sudden nervousness coursing through her body. "What happens next?"

Clarke can't suppress a childish grin as she too succumbs to the effects of the portal.

"Just walk into the light!"

"Did you seriously just say that to me?" Lexa deadpans, entirely unamused.

"Oh, uh, I admit I worded that a bit wrong that time," Clarke looks adorably sheepish rubbing the back of her neck in embarrassment. Lexa almost chuckles at the juxtaposition of such normal behavior from the Grim Reaper. Clarke gives Lexa a small smile and extends her hand. "Just…trust me?"

Lexa looks at the pale hand and the girl attached to it. She wonders if her heart was still beating whether or not her pulse would be racing right now. Lexa lifts her hand and slides it into Clarke's waiting grasp.

Clarke doesn't feel warm, but it's the closest thing to warmth Lexa can imagine. Her hand tingles in Clarke's gentle hold. Lexa can feel the sensation of energy transferring from skin to skin just as warmth would were circumstances different. Sparks crackle in her nerves and pulses through still vessels and thrums across her body. Lexa can't help but let out an audible gasp at the contact, and one look at Clarke makes her think that she too feels something different.

Suddenly, the two women find themselves immersed in the portal. Lexa has never felt more content than now, basked in life force, her hand in Clarke's. She can feel herself fading, falling into something akin to slumber. Clarke is staring at her, her face full of pride and longing for something Lexa can't quite pin down. She feels a squeeze on her hand as Clarke smiles at her. Lexa fights against sleep as she gazes at cool blue eyes.

"Goodbye, Lexa," Clarke whispers, her hand already starting to slip away.

The light around her glows brighter and brighter. It's so bright that it begins to obscure Clarke's features. Lexa desperately squeezes the fingers that are still within her grasp. With one last breath, she whispers to a pair of blue eyes in a sea of light.

"May we meet again."

The light glows and glows, obliterating all within its sweet embrace.

Slumber comes, and Lexa sleeps.