Chapter 20:
"This is…,"
"I am aware. Just remember to keep your awareness anchored in some way; it is possible to lose yourself while reading your surroundings."
"It's just… I'd never really thought about how you affect things on such a large and small scale," Jack said, eyes distant as he gazed around the glade he and Death were standing in.
"Most don't," Death responded. "Decaying molecules and dying galaxies can be fascinating to observe from time to time, though."
"That's probably the biggest difference in scale I could've… wait, galaxies die?" Jack said, eyes focusing on Death as they widened.
"Of course; everything does," Death answered.
"Well… yeah, I guess, but they're not alive."
"I am an anthropomorphic representation of the end of existence; I choose to appear in this form because this is similar to what many of the beings here perceive death to be. A form makes it easier to interact with other beings and tends to make them more comfortable in their dealings with me, but it is not necessary to perform my function."
Jack just stood and blinked for several moments.
"I'm not even going to try to wrap my head around that right now."
There was a sound like sand blowing across a road, and Jack realized Death was laughing. "Likely for the best. Were you able to perceive the local balance of energies?"
"Yeah. I… I can't really describe how it felt," Jack said, awed. Then he ducked his head. "I'm… still a little nervous about... you know."
"That is hardly surprising; it takes Reapers time to acclimate to their new responsibilities, as well as come to grips with the necessity of their function."
"I know that you don't… that we don't actually kill people, but at the same time it's a little hard to differentiate between killing and reaping in my mind. It's like there's a difference between knowing and knowing, if that makes sense," Jack said.
"You will come to understand it fairly quickly, I think," Death said. "You have encountered many varieties of ghosts; you are familiar with some of the consequences a soul may encounter if they are not allowed to die."
"But some people choose to stay behind, don't they?"
"Yes, and they often regret it. Or would, if they still had the presence of mind to do so. Poltergeists, for example. And you know that some are bound to the living world against their will, which causes other kinds of pain."
"Like Klaus, you mean? But he seems happy enough."
"That was most certainly not the case initially; being under the control of a black magic user is akin to being trapped in an iron maiden buried in a bed of hot coals is the gist of what I gleaned from him. Once he was freed, he was determined to ensure that the residents of Sleepy Hollow would never fall under such a curse again."
"He had a purpose," Jack said, comprehension dawning.
"And he was not grieved about leaving someone behind; he had nothing to pine after and retained a sense of self. Nothing held him there and he was eventually able to travel between the worlds of the living and dead without much hindrance."
"He's strong enough that he can cross over and rest when he needs to, and there's no sort of emotional pain driving him mad," Jack said.
"Yes. He is one of very few ghosts able to do so," Death said. "Now, keep your focus, Jack. Can you feel his life energy?"
"Yes," Jack answered, eyes mostly closed as he crouched next to the elk lying in front of them. It was a large bull, of advanced age if the grizzled hairs on its face and chest were anything to go by. A bit more probing and... "He's almost seventeen," Jack announced.
Famine hummed an affirmation from off to the side. "Elk in the wild rarely live to his age. In lean times, the elderly and the sick are the first to go."
"It seems kind of sad, that he has to die before he gets there."
"Nature is red in tooth and claw, Jack, and Death will always claim his due. It doesn't matter what milestone you may be about to reach," Famine said.
"I'm standing right here, you realize," Death said dryly.
The elk gave a quiet groan, barely even audible. Death stepped forward, bending down and laying a gentle hand between the creature's antlers.
It immediately went limp, body slackening as though in relief.
Gathering his nerve, Jack came to stand beside Death and placed his hand on the animal's muzzle. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as he processed the brief impression of the elk's feelings he caught as the creature's spirit examined him. Jack gave it a gentle nudge and the spirit leaped past him as though it had already known where to go.
Jack was surprised that there had been a sort of... awareness of what was happening in the elk's mind. Animals didn't think the same way humans did, but they could certainly feel. The elk had known he was dying, but he hadn't been frightened about it. Jack wanted to say it seemed like the animal had been accepting of his death.
The former frost spirit opened his eyes, looking at Famine and Death as he stood.
"You seem remarkably accepting of this," the Black Horseman said.
Jack shrugged. "It's natural, just like you said. He was too old and too weak to compete with the others, and it's probably better he die this way than be torn apart by wolves or mountain lions."
Famine nodded in acknowledgement. "Slower, yes, but a bit less painful. Well done, Jack."
Jack smiled. It vanished almost as quickly as it had come when he ducked his head. "I'm... I'm still afraid of... of reaping my first human."
He felt a hand on his shoulder and looked up to see Famine smiling at him. The way Death's head was tilted indicated he would be doing the same if he wasn't a skeleton. "So is everyone, Jack. It would be concerning if you weren't."
Jack smiled tremulously back. "Should we go?"
"Yes," Death said. "I have an appointment in Japan."
Most mythology would lead you to believe Death could be found walking through a graveyard. In truth, Death spent most of his time in hospitals, nursing homes, battlefields and other such places. He had no business with the already dead.
It was in a hospital the entity stood now, waiting at the foot of a bed in a delivery room. He watched, invisible, as the doctors and nurses worked frantically to assist the woman on the bed through her labor, her husband sitting anxiously on the bench against the left wall.
The woman, Ayuna, cried out through another contraction, gripping the sides of the bed in whitened fists. The sheets beneath her were stained with blood.
Too much blood; it wasn't clotting properly. Death could also feel the internal bleeding the doctors were as yet unaware of, though it was a common enough incident in child birth. There was no blood or plasma on hand to replace it.
Death drew the hourglass pendant from his robe; golden brown sand fell quickly through the center.
At this rate Ayuna would die long before she gave birth, and the child would die with her. There was no way a Cesarean or a blood transfusion could be performed in time.
Ayuna's scream at the next contraction drew Death's attention back to her. Tears and sweat mingled on her face. When she opened her eyes, Death could see they were beginning to glaze over.
'Not my baby. Please, oh, God, please don't let my baby die.'
Death would have blinked if he could have. Then, to his surprise, Ayuna closed her eyes and gritted her teeth through the next contraction, pushing with everything she had. The moment it was over, the woman's head fell back and her eyes slid closed. Her breathing began to slow, heartbeat following in short order.
It still wasn't enough.
Death, ignoring the doctors moving to begin CPR, moved to the head of the bed. He removed the hourglass pendant from his neck and held it above the woman's head. It began rotating, slowly at first, but sped up quickly. Eventually it was spinning so rapidly it was barely visible.
When it slowed to a stop, a spiral of golden sand fell seemingly from thin air into the top of the glass. The timepiece vanished in a flash of white, and a trickle of golden brown sand drifted down onto Ayuna's face.
The woman's eyes snapped open.
Death moved back to the wall as Ayuna's husband rushed to her side and the doctors crowded around her again.
Twenty-five minutes later, Death felt the glowing warmth of a newborn soul enter the world; a baby girl, strong and healthy, he knew without needing the doctors to say it.
Ayuna's pained smile when the doctor laid the child in her arms would have cracked even the most stone-cold heart. Her husband's grin when he looked down at their daughter split his face, and he placed a warm kiss on Ayuna's cheek.
Four minutes later, Ayuna looked up. Death could tell simply by the way her eyes focused that she could see him.
The woman looked down at her daughter again and smiled, cooing softly at her. She kissed her daughter's forehead before sitting up, and promptly fell back against the pillow, a soft smile on her face.
Death stepped forward the moment her heart stopped beating, gently pulling the soul free. It needed essentially no guidance on its way; Ayuna knew she was dead and had accepted it.
The child, however, wasn't familiar with the concept. Death could feel the young soul seeking for its lost parent, eventually reaching toward him.
'No,' Death told it softly. It pulled back, confused. Why were such young souls so perceptive?
'Yes, I did take her away,' Death said when the soul reached for him again, questioning. 'But I will not take you. She wants you to stay here. She fought to keep you from me, and I have no reason to go against her will. I hope we do not meet again for a very long time, little one.'
The soul pulled back, saddened for a moment, before returning its attention to the signals of its body. One good thing about these young souls; they were easily distracted and their memories were very short.
Death turned and walked through the door. He was met with the sight of Jack and Famine standing in the hall, watching him.
"You gave her more time," Jack said quietly, eyes suspiciously bright as he observed the child cradled in her sobbing father's arms, the man's free hand clutching his dead wife's.
"I came to take a soul, not two. The mother would have died regardless of what was done at that point, but there was no reason for them both to die."
"There was no reason for either of them to die, if you think about it," Famine muttered darkly. Jack glanced between the Horsemen in surprise when Death nodded assent.
"Excessive bleeding is a common complication during childbirth; having blood and plasma on hand during delivery could prevent close to two thirds of maternal deaths. Unfortunately, there is so much emphasis on delivering a healthy child in many countries that care for the mother during and after the birth is an afterthought, if that," Death explained. "Countries in the European Union and a few other areas in Asia have wisened up about it recently, but in other countries it is still a significant problem."
Jack looked at the ground, lips pursed. He didn't seem all that surprised anymore. He looked up again after a few moments.
"Can all Reapers give someone extra time? Or is that just you?"
"I am the only one with the ability," Death said. "If a Reaper believes they have a worthy case they may call me, but that happens only rarely."
Jack nodded his understanding. The three spent a few more moments observing the chaos in the delivery room before Death began leading the way back out onto the street.
They had just made it to the edge of the sidewalk when a figure to the left caught everyone's attention.
It was Ayuna. She was transparent, wearing a simple blue dress. She smiled at Death, dipping into a curtsey. Death, standing before the others, nodded in acknowledgement of the gesture. The spirit straightened again.
"Thank you," she said softly, with a final smile at Death. Then she was gone, just as quickly as she had appeared.
Famine and Jack stood slack jawed. Death remained still for a few seconds, but Jack would swear forever after that the shadows falling on his face made it look like the entity was smiling. Then he turned, and the moment was gone.
It was three days later when Jack found himself standing in a hospital room himself, watching from the sidelines, invisible, while a family said goodbye to an elderly woman lying in the bed.
Her eyes had closed several minutes ago and Jack could feel her life ebbing away.
A younger man, her son, Jack deduced, took her hand the moment the young Reaper stepped forward. A second later, the woman, Mathilda Black, took her last breath.
Jack hung back for a moment as Mathilda's spirit became visible to him, standing by the bedside and blinking down at her still body.
"Good evening, Mathilda," Jack greeted with a smile when she raised her head again. The spirit's deep brown eyes turned toward him. She smiled back.
"High time I got going, is it?" she asked.
Jack grinned. "Don't sell yourself short; 93 is a perfectly respectable age."
The woman's smile broadened. Jack held his hand out to her and she took it without a moment's pause. He turned and led the spirit toward the door.
They disappeared before they reached it.
Hello, my faithful!
I am so, so sorry for the long wait! I'm doing okay, but I took classes over the summer and now that the school year is back in full swing I haven't had much time to write. I've started brainstorming for the next chapter and hopefully some of my professors will calm down and quit assigning so much homework. I'll update when I can, I swear!