Death grit his teeth and pulled his black toga out of the way for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. He had too much to do and this...thing would not stay as it was put. Was this why the mortals insisted upon scribes? So the men in their elaborate sheets would not have to deal with them while transcribing letters or notes? He groaned as it dragged through his inkpot; and a heavy black mist crept over his garments, leaving him simply garbed in a black youth's tunic.

He sighed in relief, freed from the cumbersome robes. Picking up his pen again, he continued filling in his ledger, applying himself with energy. The minutes passed quickly, and the entrance of a new guest passed unnoticed. When he glanced up to dip his pen in the pot again, he saw the young man - too old for a tunic, but nonetheless dressed simply in one - standing patiently across from him.

"Go away."

"I am sorry, I merely awoke in the hallway there," He gestured behind him to the door to Life, "And the only path led to thy tablinum. I apologise for intruding."

He sighed. Sitting up slightly. "Name."

"Ætius." He watched Death fill in the line in the ledger, and then hastily added his surname:" And Pennus."

"Fitting." The pen scratched across the paper quickly. "Very well - now return through that door."

The man glanced behind him at the door he had entered through. "This door?"

"Yes."

"I am certain that I have just died..."

"You certainly did." He glanced up momentarily. "I am Death and this is my domain - I would bid thee welcome, but few enjoy it here. Perhaps to some it may become a haven, but none stay long enough to see it as such. The door will return you to your afterlife. Thank you, goodbye."

Continuing his annotations, Death could feel the man watching him for a few minutes; and he glanced up again just as he finally left and the door shut behind him.

The Shade returned to his writings, occasionally turning to previous pages to mark something down. After a few minutes, his pen froze and the nib broke off. For a moment, he sat still, his eyes shut. Slowly, he lifted his head and stared at the door the man had exited the office from - at the door back to Life, not the door to the afterlife.

He reviewed his instructions, wondering if he had misspoke, or if the man had chosen the door out of rebellion; and he dropped his head into his hand as he realised his mistake. While he had not meant to direct such, he had not clarified enough nor watched to ensure the safe passage of the soul from Life to the afterlife. And he was the guardian of death!

Hoping against all sense and logic, he quickly rose from his seat and crossed the room to pull open the door, staring out into the empty corridor. The man was gone - an immortal.

He had sent others back to life before - some he had even fetched back from the afterlife. But those had all been returned at the request of his brother Life. To send back one meant to die was to make him immortal - unable to age nor remain dead. The person would walk through earth ever apart from all else - it was a fate he would not wish upon any as punishment.

He shut the door, sighing as he slowly returned to his desk, having no will to continue his work. But the man would likely pass it off as a dream - as a vision of some sort. He had a family to return to for now, and would be safe from life's traps on the whole. Likely - for he seemed quite cautious - he would remain unaware of his 'gift' until it was too late. He would continue his life until his neighbours began to notice that he changed not from his youth; until emperors and rulers heard of his 'gift' and wanted it for themselves.

He groaned, dropping his head back. If he had the strength, he would kill the man and bring him back to explain what had happened to him; but he would rather the man had some peace and quiet before the rest of his life stretched on forever.

Death sighed, carefully taking up his pen. He could only pray that there was good still in the man - that this would not end in complete disaster.

AN: I wrote this after writing Harry's and Henry's beginnings, and realised that I could think of no reason Adam could be sent back when I considered it to be a mistake. And yes, I realise that my opinion of canon now is irrevocably tinted by Death's presence - my apologies, and I blame it on Adam and my love of language. That being said, I decided that Adam's immortality was a mistake - that Death was never cruel enough to doom Adam to immortality. Ætius Pennus means 'eagle, sharp featured'. Because Adam doesn't sound right for Rome, so... *shrugs* For now, that's his name. 8-13-2015