Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

When Agatha kissed Rio for what she thought would be the last time, she poured everything she had into it.

And Rio felt it.

She knew within seconds what it was, but she refused to accept it.

Not when Agatha's lips were on hers, when her hands were cradling her face, like she was something to be cherished, and not cursed. 

Not when she could taste the salt of her tears and the weight of her tongue, heavy with words that she'd never have the courage to say out loud.

(But it didn't matter, because they both knew.)

But when Rio felt something else - her power, her endless, infinite source of power, being leeched away, she knew what was going to happen.

An unlimited amount of magic being poured into a limited vessel.

An overdose.

In that moment, Rio would have traded anything. She would have traded her power, her immortality, everything that she was, if it meant that she could feel this forever.

But that moment passed, all too quickly. And when Agatha fell to the ground, overcharged with the essence of Death itself, Rio pulled her cloak tightly around herself, and shed her human form.

She'd waited seven hundred years for her to come back.

After all that time, you'd think Rio would have learned patience.

But the hour she'd been waiting had started feeling like an eternity.

When her spirit finally floated down from the smoky skies, Rio glared at her. "Where have you been?"

Agatha floated down, materializing as she touched ground. She strutted up to the old house, perfectly put together, a giant smirk aimed at Rio. 

"Quit being so grumpy," she stopped a few steps shy of the porch where Rio sat and put her hands on her hips. "I'm only a few minutes late."

"You said you'd be here 68 minutes ago," Rio snapped at her and crossed her arms. "Don't call me grumpy. I hate that word."

"You are so grumpy."

"I'm not grumpy, I'm irritated at being made to wait. Death waits for no one."

Agatha took one large step forward, and leaned over to meet her eyes. She tucked her hands into her jacket and raised a brow. "You waited for me."

Her face turned hot, and Rio turned her head to the side to avoid Agatha's gaze.

She felt a soft touch at the corner of her mouth, and she turned her head back immediately. 

Agatha laughed quietly, and traced a line on her face. 

"I had to help the kid with something," she told her gently, as Rio grunted and rolled her eyes at the mention of him. Agatha caught her by the chin before she could turn away again, forcing her to face her. "I came here as soon as I could. I promise, you weren't the only one that was waiting." 

Rio relaxed. The assurance that Agatha wanted her - wanted to see her, just as much as Rio did, eased her nerves. Not completely, but enough for her to release the tight grip she had on herself, and stand up. 

She grabbed Agatha's arm and pulled her inside of the house. 

Agatha laughed while Rio practically dragged her up the stairs, down the hall, into her - their - bedroom. 

Agatha tried to curl up next to the dim fireplace. Nowhere else felt good. 

She blinked away her tears. 

The fire died out quickly, but she didn't have the strength to light it again.

She remembered the snarl of the witch, her grey-ish eyes and the frown lines that deepened in disgust. It reminded Agatha of something that was so distinctly her.

"You're a foul, foolish girl," she'd told Agatha with her last breath, "And you will never be anything more."

A quiet cry fell from her lips. Silent tears. Anger. Sadness. 

Fear.

Once that dam broke, she couldn't stop the flow that followed, curling in on herself harder and harder.

The sun fell behind the trees outside her rundown cottage, and the moonlight from the window couldn't reach the spot on the floor where she'd curled up.

There was a whoosh of wind outside that made the weak walls tremble.

She felt Rio's presence in her heart before she felt it on her skin - a gloved palm on her cheek, cold fingertips pulling her hair out of her face. 

"Agatha?"

She'd left to deal with her 'business', whatever that was, only two days ago. It was the first time Rio had actually left her, since they'd met over a pile of freshly-killed witches. A shameful part of Agatha wished she'd never return - the easiest way to save herself from falling deeper into something - into someone she'd inevitably lose.

A selfish part of her never wanted to let her go again. Even if it hurt her. Even if it hurt herself. 

Rio's hand moved to the top of her shoulder, soft and cautious. 

Agatha weakly pushed her hand forwards, lightly covering her fingertips. 

She wanted to turn her head and look. She wanted to see if Rio was still wearing that torn-apart dress that she'd left in, if she still had her beloved knife on her hip, if she was smirking or frowning at what she'd walked in on. 

But as much as she'd missed her... 

"Agatha," she repeated, "Are you okay?" 

...Agatha didn't have it in her. 

A whole year since they'd first met. A whole year of falling for the mysterious witch. A whole year, and this was the first time Rio had caught Agatha while she was like... this.

"I'm fine."

She didn't want to explain, she didn't want to talk. 

Not right now. She closed her eyes. "I'm tired."

Rio was uncharacteristically quiet after that. Agatha couldn't even find it in herself to tease her about it. She wanted Rio to leave her alone, to go away until she had any energy to get up. She wanted to fade away into a dreamless sleep, and wake up and forget about everything that she was thinking about. 

"What happened?"

Rio finally broke the silence, her question only agitating the brewing storm in Agatha's mind. 

She tapped Rio's fingers, then pulled her hand back to settle beneath her cheek. Her knuckles pressed into the hardwood. 

"The usual. Killing witches."

Rio didn't move an inch. Her grip tightened, and she tried to nudge Agatha backwards, a silent request to face her. 

"What happened."

She demanded it, now. Agatha touched her forehead. There was a throbbing in her head, an ache in her neck, and a twisted feeling beneath her ribs. She was exhausted.

How could she even begin to explain?

She missed her mother, she hated her mother, she was guilty, she felt good, she felt hatred, she felt nothing. 

Nothing except the cold floor beneath her, and the warm hand above her.

"Nothing happened," she replied in annoyance, finally opening her eyes, staring at the ashes in the fireplace. She clenched her jaw. "I'm tired. Can't you just go do whatever it is you were doing, and let me rest in peace?" 

There was silence again. 

Rio squeezed her shoulder, then let go of her.

Here it is, Agatha laughed internally, when she realizes it's not worth it.  

Then, Agatha felt her touch on her hips, as Rio settled behind her. She laid down on the floor, on her side, before drawing Agatha closer and leaving a kiss on the back of her neck.  

The feeling beneath her ribs worsened, and Rio just put her hand back on Agatha's shoulder.

"I'm not in the mood tonight," Agatha tried to tell her, her voice coming out gravelly and laden with guilt. Rio's hold tightened on her. 

"Okay." 

She didn't move, except to put her leg over Agatha's, hooking their ankles. 

"I mean it, Rio," Agatha said again, elbowing her in the ribs - the storm in her head was getting worse. 

"I know," Rio said quietly, her hold insistent. She kissed the back of her head again, using her nose to push away Agatha's hair, and breathed against her earlobe, "That's not what I'm here for." 

Agatha elbowed her again, kicked away her leg, and turned to yell at her to leave.

But she couldn't.

Because she expected a smirking Rio, one that Agatha liked to tease and play games with, and one she would gladly hit in the face with whatever was in reach. 

She couldn't bring herself to do anything. 

Not when Rio was looking at her with such softness in her eyes, as she extended her arm invitingly. There was no smirk, no playful smile. She'd taken her knife off her belt and put it on the floor behind her, her cloak was off and folded next to her. 

Agatha stared at her for a beat, taking her in.

"Lay down with me."

Her dark brown eyes held no expectations - she simply looked at Agatha, tilting her head towards the floor, waiting.

She relented, and laid her head back down into Rio's arms, facing her this time.

Rio said nothing. Agatha cushioned her head on top of her arm, and her legs tangled with Rio's, while she turned from her side onto her back. 

She could hear Rio's pulse, slow and steady, calming. 

Unlike whatever storm had taken over her mind. 

When she'd finally settled, Rio's hand stopped at her shoulder again, gently moving in circles, moving towards her back. 

Agatha's eyes fluttered shut when she heard a pop come from her back, and her ache started to fade away, her muscles being soothed by the Green Witch's touch. 

"My head hurts," Agatha confessed quietly. Rio's fingers moved their massage from her shoulders to the back of her head, and she moaned softly at the sudden relief, turning her head deeper into Rio's shoulder.

"What happened today?" Rio repeated her question, much more delicate this time. 

Agatha breathed, trying to put together words. "I don't know. I just felt..." 

Rio pressed harder into her skull, and Agatha closed her lips to keep from whining as waves of relief crashed through her, sending jolts of pleasure down her spine. She settled for taking slow, calming breaths.

"I just felt too much."

Agatha heard Rio shift, then felt a kiss pressed to the temple of her head. 

"It's okay," Rio's lips moved against her skin. "That's alright. All humans need a break, sometimes."

Agatha chuckled. "You still haven't told me what you are."

Rio shifted them again, so she could kiss Agatha's cheek.

"When I'm with you, I'm not sure what I am, either."

She opened her eyes and smirked at the witch.

"And when you're not? Who are you without me?"

Rio tapped Agatha's cheek, grinning.

She kissed her again, then returned to massaging Agatha's scalp, before moving to the tension in her neck and shoulders. And she whispered something over her head, something quiet, in a language that Agatha didn't quite understand. 

Eventually, Agatha fell asleep. 

When she woke up in her own bed, a green cloak tucked around her and keeping her warm, she remembered that Rio had never answered her question.

Agatha didn't care.

She kept the cloak over her shoulders well into the evening, and spent the whole day in the solitude of her cabin, reading by the fire with a steaming mug of apple cider, surrounded by the smell of trees, pomegranate, smoke, and something so distinctly Rio. 

The back of her knees hit the edge of the bed, and Agatha fell backwards onto the mattress - the covers were already folded over. In the dimmed light, she saw Rio pull her shirt over her head and throw it aside, before crawling up the bed.

Agatha began unbuttoning her own shirt right away, but Rio stopped her. She pinned both of her hands against the beg, bracketed her hips with her legs, and hovered inches away from her face. 

Agatha raised her head to kiss her, and Rio melted into it - into her. She slid her legs down until she was resting fully on top of Agatha, their legs tangling together. Her grip on her wrists softened. Agatha put one hand on the small of Rio's back to keep her balanced, and used her other to draw lines up Rio's spine, until she hit the elastic of her bra. Rio lifted her head, the tips of their noses touching. 

"No," she spoke in a soft pant, and Agatha paused, smoothing her hand over the fabric and Rio's back. "I don't want that right now."

Agatha tilted her head, looking Rio up and down with a raised brow. She tried to sit up, but was quickly pushed back down. 

Rio gave her a soft smile. Her hair slowly curled over her shoulder and fell on her face. She frowned and tried to blow it back - Agatha snickered at her struggle before she reached up and swept it to one side.

Rio closed her eyes and leaned into the palm of her hand. 

She let out a breath so faint that Agatha almost didn't notice it. It sounded like relief. 

"Okay," Agatha replied, brushing a few more strands of hair out of her face, holding Rio's face in both of her hands. She returned her smile, raising a brow at her when she opened her eyes. "What do you want?"

Rio never told her lovers who she was. She alluded to it, skirted around the subject, gave them vague and unsettling answers - she had her fun. 

Often, she let them understand themselves. She loved it. Watching people put it together, the look in their eyes when they fell on her in a terrible realization. The denial. The nervous laughter. The horror in their acceptance. 

But when they inevitably understood, things became different.

As much as she loved that terrifying moment, she dreaded what came after. 

They were always terrified, at first. But then they'd make a decision.

Some ran. Some fought.

Some would bargain with her and deny that it was true. Saying things like their love had 'changed' her, holding onto the false hope they had somehow tamed Death. 

(Like she could change who she was. Like she had a choice.) 

In the end, they all hated her. Resented her. 

Because she was Death.

(She was just herself. Her life was defined by her purpose - she couldn't change that.)

She was cruel.

(She was natural. She was the universe. She was important! Not cruel, not evil. She just was.)

(And they still ran from her.)

So, she waited it out with Agatha. She knew their time would be up someday - everything ended. But she wanted to stretch it out for as long as possible. 

Oh, and her witch was clever. She knew what Rio was, even if she never did say it out loud. Rio didn't say it, either, unwilling to break the comfortable silence, the playful mystery that they wrapped themselves in. 

But the day came that it happened, as it always did.

The moment that Agatha understood exactly what she was, and the horrible acceptance lit up in her eyes, and she went stiff.

Rio grinned, eyes lighting up at the shift in demeanor. 

Here they were. Inevitable.

Agatha was frozen in place. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. 

"You're..."

Death. I am Lady Death. I am the cruel, dark thing that every living creature curses. I am the thing you will be running away from for the rest of your life. I am the thing you can never escape. 

"What's the matter, dear?" 

Rio took the moment in stride.

There would be shock, denial, acceptance, and fear.

Nothing that hadn't happened before.

(She'd never met someone like Agatha before.)

Rio shed her flesh as she took steps towards the witch. 

(Rio liked her original form, sure. No nerves that felt pain, no heart to pump warm blood. Just the cold. Just her.) 

(No lips, that would surely be set in a frown. No eyes, that Agatha could read like a feeble mind. No way for her to know that this wasn't fun for Rio. That this was an ending that she didn't have control over. An ending that she didn't want.) 

(...she stopped her transformation before it went all the way. Her black heart still beat in her chest, erratic and pounding.)

(Was this what humans called panic?) 

Rio raised her hand - more bones than flesh, black claws where her sharp nails used to be - and stroked her cheek. 

Agatha took a sharp breath. Rio leaned in, two black voids where her eyes used to be, and towered over the frozen witch. Her voice echoed from within, no vocal cords to carry her tone. 

"See something you like?" 

And then she waited.

This was the point that people would flinch away. Run. Scream. Cry.

Agatha...

Agatha leaned in.

"Oh," she let out a breath, more of a sigh than a gasp, "Oh. You're... you are so beautiful."

"What."

Rio deadpanned, and drew her hand back.

Agatha grinned and took her hand again, pressing it into her cheek. Her claws pricked the delicate skin, leaving faint red lines - Agatha moaned softly, her eyes glazing over as she took in Rio.

"You were holding out on me," Agatha stepped closer and put her hand on Rio's hip, pulling her closer, "Lady Death."

...what?

Rio, stunned, took a small step back. Agatha followed her, gripping her chin between her fingers. She traced the bones of her open jaw, gliding over each raw tooth, looking over her with curiosity and... and something else.

Her fingers trailed down Rio's neck, brushing aside the fabric of her shirt. Before they went further, Rio caught her hand. Agatha blinked and met her 'eyes.'

"Sorry," she furrowed her brows, "Do you not want to, in this form?"

In this form.

In this form... Agatha wanted her?  

"Still?"

Agatha looked as shocked as Rio felt, and she squeezed her hip again. 

"Yes."

She went over Rio's exposed sides, grazing at her ribs - her literal exposed ribs. 

"Is that okay?"

Rio shivered at the touch, and then again at the look in Agatha's eyes. 

The wanting, hungry look in half lidded eyes, turning icy blue as she inched in closer. The slight smile as she inched closer.

And her voice, god, her voice. 

It was full of reverence. 

Rio refused to take even a breath. She nodded, once. Agatha grinned, then leaned in.

She kissed her neck and trailed upwards, while tracing under the edges of the slits in Rio's shirt. There was nothing but bone. Cold, hard bones.

Agatha felt around her ribs, and looked down briefly in awe, as her fingers went through them.

Rio jolted and snatched her wrist - it felt like she'd been electrocuted. The waves of shock echoed through her body. Her bones literally shivered.

"Gods above..." Agatha laughed to herself, and kissed Rio's cheekbone. "I love you."

Rio dropped her wrist.

Eternity itself could have screamed her name, and she would have ignored it.

She finally let out the breath she was holding. Her heart pounded even faster. 

She caught Agatha by her shoulders, and walked her back, until she had forced her against the bulk of a tree.

Agatha grunted at the push and scrunched her brows together. Before she could say anything else, Rio pushed her harder into the tree. 

"Say it again."

Agatha's eyes widened, then settled back into mischief. She raised her hand as best as she could between them, and laid her palm on Rio's 'face'.

Rio loosened her grip.

Agatha moved her head forward, until and was nose to nose with her. She pressed her lips against closed teeth, and mouthed the words, "I love you."

Rio took a sharp breath. The leaves around them rustled with wind.

"Agatha," she whispered, a quiet sound coming from her chest, rather than echoing around them.

She said it.

"I love you," she repeated, "Death."

And she meant it.

"Agatha," she said again, but it felt closer to a whine than a whisper, and Agatha softened, pulling away from her.

Rio brought back her human form - and Agatha looked truly disappointed - but Rio wanted to feel this properly.

She wanted to feel the electricity shooting through her nerves. She wanted to feel warm skin under her cold lips.

And more than that, she needed Agatha to feel her.

Her skin reformed, her nerves grew like roots from her brain, and when her tongue returned, she kissed Agatha again, picking her up to push against the tree. 

Agatha didn't question her - she wrapped her arms around Rio's neck, her legs around Rio's waist, and deepened the kiss.

She closed her eyes and tried to calm her heart.

When Agatha bit her bottom lip, Rio's grip weakened. She just barely summoned a branch in time to stop her witch from plummeting to the ground. 

She finally broke off the kiss. Agatha tried to rectify this mistake, taking Rio's face in her hands, trying to pull her into another - 

"Wait," Rio took her wrists again, and Agatha put down one leg for her own balance before trying again. "Wait."

She rested their foreheads together. The woods were alive with sound - insects buzzing and chirping, owls hooting at their mates in the trees, leaves and branches rustling beneath the feet of predator and prey, and the harsh breathing of the two witches being held against each other. 

Agatha held Rio in her hands. Not just with the way her palms were pressed into her face, thumbing circles into her cheeks.

She saw Rio, finally saw through all her tricks and masks, saw the finality and complexity of death, and she didn't run. She wasn't scared. Agatha welcomed her, and she loved her.

And Rio...

Rio loved her back.

The realization struck through her.

Rio wasn't the type of person (she wasn't even a person) to question herself. She knew who she was, she knew what she was, she knew who others were.

So she knew that this feeling in her conjured heart, the feeling that stayed no matter how far she'd gone from the purple witch, wasn't just an infatuation anymore.

She loved her.

Rio's eyes widened with panic.

She refused to look at Agatha. Instead, she took a handful of Agatha's hair, pulled her head back, practically swallowed her into another kiss.

It must have caught her off guard, because she made a surprised noise and stumbled again.

Rio brought them home. Agatha was still reeling when Rio laid them down, pinning her hands to the bed as she moved her kisses down her neck.

"Rio," she breathed, pulling a pillow beneath her head, "Have you always been able to teleport both of us?" 

Rio hesitated, and paused her movements. She looked up at Agatha.

She had her eyes fixed on her with a sharp, accusatory glare. Rio smirked to herself and lowered her head, planting a firm kiss over where her heart was.

(Agatha softened, just a little bit.)

"Yes," Rio said, then started tracing a line up her neck with her tongue, following the faint beating beneath her skin until she found the place where it beat the hardest.

"And you just, ah," Agatha sighed, when Rio grazed her teeth over it, "Never thought to - to do it before?"

Rio sucked a little bit harder on her pulse point. By the time she released it with a wet pop, she was pleased to see a bruise already starting to form.

(Agatha hated how easily she bruised. Rio loved it. She smiled and moved to make a matching one on the other side.)

"We would have missed out on all those lovely chases," she kissed the tip of Agatha's nose as she went.

"We would've been - fuck - we were on the run for our lives," Agatha grabbed the back of Rio's neck and forced her away. Rio whined at the interruption - she was making such good progress making a mess of her neck.

Agatha was a cross between pouting and glaring. "You made me fight for our safety, when the whole time, you could have just transported us away from all that bullshit?"

Well… yes.

Rio didn't reply.

Before Agatha could unleash fury on her, Rio shut her up with another kiss. At the same time, she moved her hand to Agatha's breast, massaging the soft flesh and rolling her nipple.

Her other hand went to her sides, planting Agatha firmly against the bed as she pushed her knee against her center.

"Do you really want to argue right now?"

Agatha let out a little sigh, and rolled her eyes as if she was thinking.

"I suppose not," she thrust her hips up as she mumbled. When Rio moved out of her reach, she chased her further, until Rio pushed her down again to still her hips, and moved down between her legs.

She guided one of Agatha's legs over her shoulder, and turned towards the inside of her thigh. She repeated what she did to her neck - finding a pulse point, and then biting on it.

At the same time, her fingers found the soft place between her thighs, already wet with want. She started stroking in deliberate, memorized patterns.

"Fuck," Agatha gasped, laughing breathlessly, brushing her hair back and out of her face. Rio looked up at her - her face had turned beet red, from a mixture of anger and pleasure, and Rio laughed to herself. "Fuck! Rio! I can feel you smirking!" 

Rio kept going, eventually pushing two of her fingers in, and setting a slow pace. She kept leaving love marks wherever she could - both for her own pleasure, and because she knew it would drive Agatha crazy when she went to bathe the next morning.

Right now, however, she didn't care.

Agatha went quiet for a moment. Her movements grew more erratic and purposeful, before she stopped, and another cascade of pleasure flowed through her.

Rio watched her as she unraveled, letting out broken moans as she tried to catch her breath, and for the first time, she truly understood what reverence was.

(A thought occurred to her.

If Agatha had been around 3000-odd years ago, Rio would have to worry for her safety more than she already did.

Because people were sure to have compared her - no, they would have said she exceeded Aphrodite's beauty.

And then Aphrodite would throw a tantrum, then Agatha would throw a bigger tantrum, and then Rio would find herself at odds with the Olympians - deities that she'd managed to steer clear of for most of her existence.)

"Gods, Rio."

Agatha was still twitching, and the earthy scent filled Rio's senses.

She licked her lips.

"Move over," Agatha tried to flip Rio onto her back, "You left marks all over me, you know I hate tha - "

Agatha cut herself off with a scream, as Rio had dove back into her. She roughly dragged her tongue over her still-sensitive clit. Agatha's heels dug into her back, and she pulled at Rio's head so hard, she must have ripped a few strands from her scalp. 

But Rio refused to move.

Agatha tasted like heaven.

She truly understood, now, what addiction was.

Her nails dug deeply into her shoulder and broke skin, but Rio didn't mind - she used her free hand curl around Agatha's wrist again. She didn't pull it away - she wanted her to do it harder. 

Mark me, Rio thought, drawing a deep red line at the junction of her hip with her thumb, staring deep into blue eyes as she did, hoping that it said enough. Make me yours. 

It worked. Agatha dug her nails deeper into Rio's skin, and dragged them down with another broken moan, pulsing on Rio's tongue again.

And again.

And again.

She wasn't sure who was driving them, anymore. All she knew was the sweet, pleasant taste that only increased in flavour the longer she went on. Agatha's broken whines and stuttering gasps for breath were music in her ears. The sharp, stinging pain of the pointed nails gripping her shoulders, each time Agatha shuddered and tensed beneath her, only pushed her to keep going.

If it were up to Rio, she would've stayed there forever.

But Agatha's heart was starting to race in an unpleasant way.

Rio took one final taste - Agatha kicked at her back, and sharply said enough - she laughed to herself, resting her cheek against the top of Agatha's thigh, admiring what had become of her lover.

Her eyes were closed, her cheeks were flushed, and bite marks littered her body. She was sprawled on top of the bed, her chest rose and fell heavily with each breath.

Rio kissed one of the marks she'd left, softly, almost in an apology.

But she regretted nothing.

Agatha lazily threw one arm over her face. "I think I blacked out and met one of your family members."

Rio caught her smile. 

"I hope not. They can be… a bit overwhelming."

"Oh, and you're so calm?"

"They're not like me. They get… I just don't think they get me."

"So, you're an outcast like me, then." She kicked at her back again, playful instead of warning. "As if I needed any more reasons to love you."

Love you.

Rio placed her chin on top of the hard bone near Agatha's hip. She looked up at her, thoughtfully.

Why is my mouth dry, she thought to herself, licking her lips, considering where I've just been? 

(Agatha was the one who had just been ravaged - so why was Rio's heart racing so quickly? Why did her hands suddenly feel clammy?)

"I - I love you, too," she spoke quietly, rubbing circles into Agatha's hip, tapping her fingers against the bed.

There, I said it.

(Oh, she said it. What a human thing to do.)

(If any of her kin caught wind of this, they would never let her live it down.)

She half expected hellfire to rain down on her, but instead, she felt a soft hand petting her hair.

"I know. I know you do."

Agatha gently pulled at the knots in Rio's hair, untangling them until she could smoothly run her fingers through the black strands.

"I mean it, my love. Any form. Anywhere. So long as it's you."

Me?

Rio blinked at her, slow and doubtful. Agatha cupped her cheek, and slid down the bed, stifling a yawn and closing her eyes.

"So long as you're mine."

Yours.

Rio abandoned any other thought, crawling up Agatha's body, pressing a kiss into every inch of skin that she could, every little mark that she found.

"My love. Mine."

Agatha laughed again, pulling Rio up by holding her head in her hands, and kissing her forehead. 

Why do my eyes sting, Rio thought to herself again, when Agatha rolled them over, and kissed her properly. 

Rio held on to her until sleep came for both of them. She allowed it to take her - allowed herself to close her eyes and rest, as she held her loved one.

No one, no one could take her. No one could separate them, now.

Tomorrow, Rio would have her hands full of lost souls. Tomorrow, she'd have to leave Agatha behind again, as her vacation was coming to a close.

Tomorrow, Agatha would hold her hand, kiss her forehead, and tell her with that same smile, go. I know you have to go, but just come back. I'll be waiting for you.

And Rio wouldn't want to go, but her very existence demanded it. So she gave her love another kiss and left. Te veo.

Moments passed by where Rio didn't move. She just stayed in place, eyes closed, Agatha's hands holding her head up as the rest of her body became dead weight on top of her.

An eternity later, Rio opened her mouth, and Agatha held her breath, waiting for her response. A command, a question, a suggestion.

But Rio just yawned, and then slowly set her head down on Agatha's chest.

She waited two seconds.

Then four.

Then ten. 

Then - 

"Rio."

Rio turned her head again, practically nestling into Agatha's chest as she got comfortable.

She pinned Agatha down to the bed... just so she could lay on top of her and sleep?

"Rio, you don't even need sleep."

She replied in a murmur, like she was already halfway to Twinkle Town. "Doesn't mean I can't sleep."

And gods, her voice was so raspy and laden, if Agatha didn't know better, she would have assumed that Rio really was just a tired woman who needed a nap. 

But she did know better. 

Death didn't take naps. In fact, she hated them. It was 'a massive waste of time and the least exciting thing for any being to do.'

"Rio."

Agatha tried to sit up again, but Rio refused to budge. She tried to move her legs out from underneath hers, but Rio kept hooking their ankles together. 

When Agatha pinched at her side, Rio grabbed her wrist and pinned it to the bed again, huffing in annoyance. 

But she finally got up - not fully, but just enough to look Agatha in the eye. 

"Will you shut up, and let me have this?"

Agatha pulled against her grip and glared at her, but Rio kept tangling their limbs until they were completely entwined.

"Rio."

She moved again, grabbing Agatha's hand and throwing it over her own shoulder.

"Why?"

"Just -" Rio groaned in annoyance, and closed her eyes for a moment. She took a breath. "Hold me, please."

Agatha stopped struggling against her. She blinked at Rio.

What?

(Agatha preferred things left unsaid. She didn't like labelling her thoughts and feelings - it felt too restricting, and her emotions were too wild. She was self-aware enough to recognize that, at least.)

Rio huffed, and looked away. Her hold tightened even more.

"I don't know why. I just need..."

(It had taken Agatha a while to figure it out, but Rio was different. She had mistakenly assumed that Rio was just as messy when she was when it came to feelings. But Rio wasn't all over the place. She was single-minded, and her emotions were always plain as day, loud, and obvious. There was the main difference between herself and Rio: Rio often left things unsaid, not because she was unwilling to say it, but because she didn't know how to put words to it.)

(Lately, she'd been trying to.)

Rio still couldn't meet Agatha's eyes, settling down on top of her, head facing the wall.

"I just want to hold you," she said quietly, stiff, like she was admitting a painful secret. "I need you to hold me."

I want that too. I need to feel you in my arms again. 

Agatha didn't say it. Of course she didn't - she didn't have to.

Instead, she relaxed, and let Rio curl around her however she wanted to, until she found a comfortable spot.

After a few minutes, her neck started to tense. Agatha tried to sit up - Rio raised her head, and Agatha's heart nearly broke at the sight of panic in her usual calm eyes.

"Wait," she breathed, and her voice wavered, "Don't let go yet."

"I won't," Agatha promised, and put one hand behind her back to move a pillow. "I'm not leaving. Just moving my head. I'm staying."

Rio relaxed slightly, setting her head back down.

They held each other in silence.

(Rio didn't know what else to say, or how to explain. But she didn't need to. Agatha held her without question.)

Agatha didn't like to worry.

But it had been three months.

No, it had been three months, two weeks, and five days.

Rio had said soon, and then vanished, and then three months, two weeks, and five days had gone by. The longest she'd ever gone without seeing her. 

The dread creeped over her every morning. 

First - was Rio okay? Was she hurt, was she trapped?

She existed in a vast universe that Agatha could only hope to reach. She belonged with celestials and gods, but while her power was limitless, she still had a form that could be hurt. 

Second - if Rio was okay, then why hadn't she come back?

Had she forgotten about her?

Was Agatha just one more fleeting human in an infinite lifetime, another scorned lover on an endless list, another person that Death had grown tired of and left behind? 

Third - no, she hadn't forgotten, but… maybe, she just didn't think Agatha was important, anymore. Did she realize that Agatha wasn't worth it?

Did she stop caring? 

Did she stop loving?

Fourth - if she did still care, if she hadn't forgotten, and she was completely okay, then, well, she must be busy. Of course she'd be busy. Her job was never-ending, and she'd be back when she had the time to spare.

By the time the night came, Agatha would go to bed with a book, a candle, Rio's cloak, and assure herself that Rio would be back soon. Te veo. 

And then when she woke up, still alone, the first thing she'd think - was Rio okay?

Day by day, the cycle repeated, until finally, four months, one week, two days - a knock at her door. 

Rio stood on her porch, wearing a new green cloak, polished black boots, a brown corset with a white dress shirt tucked beneath, and grasping a bouquet of exotic flowers. 

"Not sure how long it's been," Rio took a careful step into the home, smiling apologetically. "But judging by that look on yo-"

Agatha blasted her with a bolt of magic.

Rio went flying backwards, crashing into the ground. The flowers scattered in the wind, petals raining in the air. Agatha's hand smoked with the blast.

Rio had the nerve to laugh. She sat up and dusted herself off. Agatha shook the smoke off her hand, glaring and Rio raised a brow at her. "Now, what was that for?"

"I thought you weren't coming back." 

Rio spit dirt to the side, wiped her mouth with her sleeve, then stood up.

"I'll always come back to you."

Agatha crossed her arms. She didn't let up on her glare, and she stood in the threshold of the doorway like a guard, frowning as the witch walked back to the house.

"Ha," she scoffed, and leaned against the doorframe, rolling her eyes. "I bet you say that to all the girls."

Rio picked up one of the destroyed flowers from the ground, and used her magic to bring it back to a bloom. "There are no other girls. There is no one else like you."

She put one foot on the porch, and held out the flower like an offering. Her eyes twinkled.

Agatha faltered as she reached for the flower. She touched its petals, and brought it to her nose. 

She smiled behind the flower.

"You can come in," she turned on her heel and went back inside, "But don't think that means you're off the hook." 

Agatha went straight to her fireplace, and picked up the book she'd abandoned. In her hurry to answer the door, she'd thrown it aside and lost her page. But she wasn't going to give Rio the satisfaction of realizing that, so she buried her nose in it without much care of what she was reading.

She heard Rio walk in and close the door behind her. She shuffled around, setting aside her boots and her cloak, going to the kitchen, then settling down at the other end of the couch.

Agatha still didn't look up.

Let's see how she likes being ignored.

There was a small snorting sound from the end of the couch.

Agatha didn't look up.

Not until the snorts became louder, and Rio let out a full bellied laugh.

Agatha snapped her book shut and glared at her. "What? What is so funny!?"

Rio pointed at the book in her hand, and managed to say in one, broken breath: "It's upside down!"

She dissolved into laughter again, and Agatha looked down at the book.

Sure enough, the book that she'd been pretending to be completely engrossed in for the last, oh, ten minutes?

It was upside down.

Agatha felt her face turn red. She threw the book at Rio's head, but it didn't stop the witch from cackling. In fact, being clipped in the head by the corner of the heavy book only seemed to delight her more.

Rio wouldn't stop laughing. She put a hand on her chest, and her head fell back against the couch.

All of Agatha's frustration melted away as she continued to take in the sight of it. Rio was here. She had come back with apologies and a gift; she was sitting in a rundown cabin, sitting next to a Wicked Witch, and losing her mind in laughter at something so ridiculous -

She was here.

Agatha couldn't help but start laughing, as well.

It wasn't long after that the both found themselves in bed.

When the candle died out, and Agatha had just started to feel the haze of sleep, she felt Rio get out of bed.

Her heart nearly stopped, and her hand shot out to grab Rio's arm.

Rio looked down at her in surprise.

"Don't go," Agatha wanted to demand it, but she knew it was a plea. She held onto Rio's arm, pulling one hand to her hip, inviting Rio back into her arms.

"Don't go, yet. Stay with me."

Rio hesitated.

(Rio never hesitated.)

Agatha didn't look at her. She turned her head to the side, and hoped.

(Agatha never hoped.)

But... 

Rio slid underneath the blankets, sidling up next to Agatha.

"Okay," she put a leg over her, and wrapped her arms around Agatha's waist. "Okay, I'm here."

Agatha buried her cold nose into Rio's neck, and kissed the mark she'd left.

"…I'm yours."

Agatha refused to fall asleep just yet. Rio rarely spoke her true thoughts, but it was always at times like this, when she wasn't facing her, when she thought she was hidden.

"What I said earlier was true. I've never fallen for anyone as I have for you. I've never felt the things I've felt with you. I'll always return to you, my love. Even if you hate it."

Agatha tried to nudge herself up, and meet Rio's eyes.

"How could I ever hate you?"

Agatha poked at Rio's bare sides, making her squirm. "Okay, but how come you get to have yours off?"

(They didn't fall asleep. Agatha had spent the first two hours describing the plot of the entire Despicable Me saga to Rio, and Rio had spent the last two updating Agatha on the political warfare and celebrity gossip that was taking place on her third favourite planet, Jarrek.)

"You're the one that gets cold in the middle of the night," Rio slid a cold hand underneath Agatha's shirt, laughing at the cold goosebumps she got. "Keep your shirt on."

They settled into another round of comfortable silence.

"My love," Agatha touched her back softly, tracing over her spine. Rio let out a breath, and nodded slightly. "Are you okay?"

A beat.

"Yes."

She shuffled impossibly closer.

Another beat.

Agatha curled a strand of Rio's hair with her finger. "Rio… was there anyone else?"

She felt Rio close her eyes.

"Never. No one like you."

Oh. 

The small confession made her heart clench in pain, and she pulled Rio tighter into her arms. 

No one had held her before Agatha. 

No one had held her since Agatha. 

She started tracing a rune into her back. 

Rio nosed her way into the crook of Agatha's neck, planting absentminded kisses against her throat. Agatha closed her own eyes, and blindly searched for Rio's hand. When she found it, she linked their fingers together, and brought it to her lips.

Mine, she traced, and she felt Rio's quiet cry against her skin. 

Agatha didn't say anything. She kissed each of Rio's knuckles.  

"No matter how long... I'll always come back."

Rio wondered, not for the first time, if she had made a mistake taking a mortal form.

Because ever since she had, things had felt different. Not worse, exactly. Just more.

A lot more.

And it was too much.

Everything felt too much.

(Three billion, one thousand, nine hundred and fifty two.)

Rio looked up at the sky. It was a clear blue, save for one wispy white cloud that was dissipating by the second. The sun was blazing on her back. She was hunched over, sitting on a hill, her knees drawn to her chest.

(Three billion, one hundred thousand, two thousand, six hundred and one.)

She couldn't look away. Her neck strained to stare at the sky, and her eyes stayed locked onto the cloud, and she counted every single soul that demanded her attention. 

(Three billion, one hundred thousand, two thousand, six hundred and fifty tw-)

"Ah, here you are."

Agatha sat down next to her, and took her hand.

Rio didn't turn towards her. She kept her eyes on the sky. 

She couldn't look away. 

She couldn't stop looking, or listening, or feeling.

"Are you okay?"

Agatha leaned in front of her and squeezed her hand. Rio didn't look down from the sky. 

"I'm fine." Her voice was flatter than usual.

(She still wasn't sure what to do with her vocal chords on most days. They were fun to play with - she growled, moaned, screeched, and yelled. But during her downtime, she didn't put a lot of effort into using them.)

Agatha shuffled closer to her. Rio squeezed her hand back.

"I'm just thinking."

"Whatever it is," Agatha matched her soft tone, "I can see that you're upset."

"I'm not upset. I'm just thinking."

"Yeah?"

Rio's chin was softly grabbed, and she was forced to look away. Agatha was smirking at her. 

"Tell that to the ground."

She blinked, and looked down. 

The grass around her had withered and decayed.

Rio let out a breath, and used her free hand to graze the once lively patch of fresh green grass. The blades cracked and turned to dust beneath her fingers.

Agatha squeezed her hand again, and pulled Rio sideways, until she was leaning on her.

Rio didn't fight her. Agatha kept pulling her, urging her, really, to fall onto her lap.

"I guess," her voice came out quieter than usual - a whisper - and she laid down in Agatha's arms, "I am a little upset." 

Agatha hummed in response, and scratched at Rio's scalp. It was different. It was more.

It also wasn't bad.

Rio closed her eyes, and breathed. 

When she opened them, she looked into the cold blue eyes of Agatha Harkness, and listened to the faint sound of her pulse. 

Slowly, she came back to herself. Everything quieted. The universe didn't demand her attention - the soft scratches at her scalp and the hard kisses against her face did.

"This feels good," Rio said quietly, and then closed her eyes and pretended she hadn't said anything, unwilling to shatter the moment.

Agatha laughed, and tugged at Rio's hair a little harder than she needed to. 

Rio smiled, and opened her eyes. 

Peace.

That was the word she'd been looking for - the difference, the more.

This was what peace was.

Allowing herself to be held.

Allowing herself to calm down. 

Rio checked, once more - four billion, five hundred and whatever. It wasn't like they were going anywhere. 

For a second, she froze, and waited for something to go wrong. For the universe to crack open, because she didn't do her job. 

Nothing happened.

And in the next second, she relaxed again. 

Being human wasn't so bad. 

Rio opened her eyes when she heard a voice banging against their heads.

"Agatha...?"

The woman beneath her kept snoring. She was warm, completely held fast by Rio, loosely holding onto her hand. 

Rio gave it a slight tug, and Agatha subconsciously squeezed her fingers back.

Billy prodded at her again. Rio tried to decline the call for her, casting a temporary shield around her. Maybe if no one answered, he'd go away. 

Rio closed her eyes again. 

A few seconds later, she felt a prodding thought in her head.

"Agatha? I need your help!" 

Rio returned a telepathic jolt of pain to the sender.

However, it wasn't exactly her specialty, and Billy just returned the shock by tenfold.

"Agatha, you can make out with your situationship later! I need your help!" 

"You little fuck," Rio growled and pulled herself out of bed. Agatha's hand fell away from her shoulder.

I'm going to have so much fun torturing the kid when he finally dies. 

She took careful steps out of the room, taking the line of communication with her so as to not disturb her sleeping ex-wife.

"What is it," Rio hissed through her thoughts, "You abomination?" 

She felt Billy's surprise.

And slight fear. 

She smiled to herself. 

"Uh... hey Rio," his 'voice' was tentative, as if he expected Rio to jump through dimensions and start fighting him. "Long time, since you tried to... kill me...?"

She was tempted to.

"Tell me what you're bothering us for," Rio expressed as much annoyance as she could within thoughts, "Before I try to finish the job."

Careful silence on the other side. Rio leaned against the wall and crossed her arms, sighing. She was tired. 

She wanted to be back in Agatha's arms. 

"I need Agatha's help with a spell."

Rio stretched her neck, tossing it from side to side. "What spell?"

"I just need to know how to track someone down by using their blood..."

Silence, again. Rio tapped her foot. 

"This is probably a bad time to ask but... Is there any chance that you could maybe help me with that?"

"Are you seriously asking me for help right now?" 

"Hey, we were in the same coven!" 

He sounded so cheerful. 

"We're technically bonded for life!"

"Uh-huh," Rio rolled her eyes. "Life."

"Uh, poor choice of words?"

His 'voice' was squeaky and unsure. The teen was such a child. 

(Rio closed her eyes and laughed to herself.)

"If I tell you the answer," she replied, feigning boredom, "Will you leave us alone?"

"Sure."

Silence again.

"But, just an fyi, Agatha is my mentor. I have a right to call her."

Rio furrowed her brows. "Mentor means nothing. She helps you out as a favour. You don't get to call her whenever you want, Teen."

He was annoyed now, too. "You can't just keep her!"

"Well, you can't always have her!"

He was silent for longer this time, but his thoughts kept cutting in, and Rio realized that he was arguing with someone in the real world.

She was put on hold. 

The nerve of this boy to put Lady Death herself on hold -

"FINE!" He yelled at someone in front of him, then returned to Rio. "Fine! You can have her, uninterrupted, every other weekend."

"Every weekend." Rio glanced at the door to their room again, pushing it open just a crack.

Was she really arguing with a child about when she got to see her love? 

"Weekends are the most dangerous days of all - okay, okay, I get your point, Kate! Okay. You can have Agatha for three days this week, I get to have her two days, and on the weekend, she can do whatever she wants. We'll switch plans next week." 

Rio pondered it for a moment. 

She looked at Agatha's sleeping form - short breaths, a slight smile on her face, letting out a sigh every once in a while. She'd never say it out loud - Agatha never said anything out loud - but she loved Billy like a son. He was a second chance for her.

(The thought used to make Rio quake with rage. Their son would never get to grow up and learn magic. Their son was waiting, with far more patience than either of them had, for Agatha to join him. Nicky was watching Agatha be a mother to a child that wasn't even her own - he thought it was sweet, and Rio... didn't want to dispute him.) 

"Fine, it's a deal. But tonight is mine."

(She still resented him for keeping her. But one night, when they were walking in the ruins of the Parthenon, and Billy had sent a real text message, she saw Agatha's eyes light up with more than just the phone screen. She was happy, she laughed at his message, and she sent back a reminder to practice his magic while she was away. And Rio's heart softened just a little towards him. Because he didn't just keep her; he brought her back.) 

Billy tried to give her a mental handshake, so she visualized a middle finger and sent him the image.

"Now for your spell," Rio said before he could retaliate with an image of his own. "There's quite a few ways to find someone using their blood. You could use a binding spell, but that would mean forming a connection between yourself and the victim."

"Do you have to say victim? We're not hunting them dow-"

"Or, you could do a summoning circle, use the blood as an anchor. The simplest way would be to pour a tracker potion on an object that belongs to them."

"But we don't have an object, we just have an arrow with blood on it."

"Mix the blood in the tracking potion," Rio rubbed her forehead, a headache oncoming, "Pour the potion on a petal of a chrysanthemum. Follow the petal."

"... wait, follow the petal?" 

"Blow the petal into the wind, and then the magic will carry it to the destination! Gods, how she has the patience for this, I'll never know." 

"Okay, Rio."

He was smiling. 

"Thanks, by the way. Not just for the spell. For everything. Except the, almost killing me part."

He was cheerful again. "You should come hang out with us someday. Get some fresh air. It's getting really tiring having Agatha as a third wheel when I'm out with Eddie, maybe you two could-" 

"Fuck off," Rio muttered to herself out loud, breaking the connection once and for all.

She scoffed at the invitation. Her and Agatha, chaperoning two teenagers? Scratch that - one teenager, and the possible Demiurge? 

(...her and Agatha, watching over a young boy, as he walked hand in hand with his partner?)

Agatha stirred, murmuring something unintelligible. Her skin had goosebumps and she shivered, clearly missing the warmth Rio had been providing as a human blanket. She reached to the side of the bed - her smile turned into a frown when her hand only met empty space. 

Rio slipped back into the bed, taking Agatha's hand in her own. 

"Bye, Mom! I'm heading out with Eddie!"

"Hold on, wait a minute. Who's car is that?"

"That's just Mrs. Harkness and her wife. I told you about them, remember? The Westview ladies." 

"Oh, right. The nice lady who helped you when your car broke down last September." 

"Yeah. She agreed to give me and Eddie a ride to the mall in Jersey. They'll be like chaperones." 

"How sweet of them! How about you invite them inside so I can meet them?"

"..."

"William? I'd like to meet the strangers who are taking you away in their car."

"Uh..." 

"Now, please." 

"...fuck. Okay. Just give me a minute."