Chapter Text
Death was following Agatha. She didn’t want to, but Harkness was always leaving a trail of bodies behind her – souls that were hers to collect. Death was always cleaning up after Agatha. Sometimes it felt she was doing this on purpose, leaving breadcrumbs of bereavement, daring Death to face her – or, at least, gaze at her former lover from a distance. Death could not imagine why, after what she had done to her, what she had stolen. Then again, Agatha was never one for consistency. There were even times when she, the very embodiment of mortality, as well as Agatha’s ex, could not read the woman. Harkness may be derided as a covenless witch, but Death knew Agatha’s soul yearned for connection. Yearned for her. Even after all that had happened.
Down, down, down the road… Agatha’s voice ricocheted off the trees. Death could just make her out, standing in the clearing, clasping the hands of her next victims as if they were the best of friends. The witch’s eyes were closed, focussed on making her words as eloquent as possible. At least, Death supposed, Agatha was putting effort into making the last moments of those poor souls as perfect as possible. She was spell-binding. Death’s eyes followed each rise and fall of her chest. She was in ecstasy.
Silence. Angry voices. Hissing magic. Agatha’s manic laugh. Four bodies fell to the floor, and silence returned to the forest.
“Still using this old witches’ road grift?” Death couldn’t help herself. She had carefully made her way to the edge of the clearing. “I thought you would have found some new trick after all these years.”
Agatha opened her eyes. Her mouth hung open in indignation, her teeth bared at her old lover. “You.. You have the gall to show yourself before me again?”
Death laughed. “You don’t exactly make it difficult to find you,” she snarled, gesturing with both hands to the withered bodies before her.
Agatha started towards her, but Death raised her arm. “I’m not here for you. I’m here for my souls, which you have so gracefully provided for me.”
She circled around the corpses like a vulture, simultaneously moving around Agatha as if she were the star at the centre of her solar system. Agatha was deathly still. Soon, they were facing each other again.
“Are you done?” Harkness said, voice hoarse.
Death tilted her head. “Am I done? I still have souls to guide. Shouldn’t you be trying to get as much distance between us as possible?”
“Rio…” Agatha began, only to be cut off by a sly giggle.
“It’s been a while since I’ve used that name. Yet you still remember.”