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When death was a part of the family business, you learned to take as much time as you could to appreciate life.
Theon did. He did often, even though his sister warned him against it. She claimed that they couldn’t enjoy life because it wasn’t within their realm of being, therefore they shouldn’t even think of it. Death was the center focus of their existence and focusing on anything else was a distraction, a waste of time, useless folly. Theon didn’t see it like that, though. He saw life as a reason to keep doing what he was doing. He saw life in others and knew the only way to keep that sacred was to keep it short and timely. Too much of a good thing causes it to lose its significance. Life loses its meaning without death. They need each other to mean something greater. Theon gave meaning to life, or at least that’s how he’d prefer to look at it.
Theon sipped his too-sweet latte, looking across the café at a young man behind a laptop, typing away with a tiny, joyous smile on his face. He had plenty of life in him, more life than he should have. More life than he had the right to if his timeline had anything to say about it. Theon had viewed it before stopping by the café. He was an hour earlier than strictly necessary, but this wasn’t the first time. Technically, Theon shouldn’t have shown up until the last seconds of the young man’s life, but Theon always enjoyed seeing their life, the pure moments of energy before it would all be cast away. There wasn’t a rule against doing this; just most people in Theon’s profession didn’t take the time to. None of the really cared about life and the energy a soul had.
And Robb Stark’s life energy was bright white. What wasted potential.
Before coming to the shop and watching the young man he’d have to guide to the afterlife, Theon had reviewed his timeline, all the various paths it could take if he weren’t to die in less than an hour. The most obvious one was he’d become a famous historian. His most critically acclaimed work would be about historical distortion. Eventually, he’d come to retire, teach at an Ivy League University, married to a beautiful woman and together they’d have a healthy boy. In the simplest of terms, Robb Stark would have grown to have a textbook perfect suburban life. That is if he hadn’t been stabbed to death by muggers on the way home from working on his thesis at a local coffee shop that served a rather sweet pumpkin spice latte.
It would be a shame. Theon sighed, watching the young man type, shaking his auburn hair from his eyes as his hands blurred over the keyboard. According to one of the more prominent paths on his timeline, that thesis would have gotten him a full ride and an internship with Doctor Stannis Baratheon, a lead historian of the study of genocide. Not necessarily Stark’s field of interest, but Stannis would bring him quite far until he’d be ready to spread his wings and make his own.
Theon watched as Robb Stark begin to pack away the laptop that would never be opened again, the unfinished thesis saved and unheard around the world. Doctor Stannis Baratheon would take on a different intern, just as good but no Robb Stark. Theon considered it a missed opportunity but he wasn’t in charge of who should die and who should live, he only guided the souls to where they were supposed to go, a tedious but important job nevertheless. If he did have the choice, he might have considered sparing Robb Stark. Asha would have a field day if she heard that.
Theon watched as the redhead grabbed his bag and headed to the counter, picking up a box of pastries from the waiting barista. Theon remembered reading Robb’s obituary on the way over to the coffee shop on the train. He’d die of multiple stab wounds and would bleed out in the street, his book bag stolen and, by his side, a stomped-on box of pastries that he had wanted to bring home to his siblings because just like it would read on his tombstone, Robb Stark was a loving brother.
Robb talked with the barista for a bit. She was pretty, but not nearly as pretty as whom Robb’s future wife would have been. Robb smiled, but it wouldn’t be like the smile he would have given his wife on their wedding day. Robb would actually never have a chance to smile that bright. Theon was just going to have to savor what would now be only classified as his official brightest smile.
It was raining lightly as Robb left the shop, Theon following quickly behind with his half-finished latte. He normally didn’t get pumpkin spice. It was too sweet for his taste, but Theon was also a sentimentalist at heart and it seemed fitting to have Robb Stark’s favorite drink in his honor. Just like Theon had what seemed like gallons of cheap beer for Robert Baratheon’s death not even two months prior.
According to his watch, Robb Stark still had fifteen minutes before his death. Theon knew that the following events would occur but he was still amazed by the sheer kindness in his soul. Donating money to a man on the street, picking up a toy dropped by a child, taking a picture of a tourist couple. They would all experience his kindness without knowing it was the last he would ever give. Unless you counted the laptop the muggers took after letting him bleed out. Theon didn’t.
They reached Twins Avenue and a pit formed in Theon’s stomach as it always did as he approached the death spot. A few meters away, a group of five men would grab Robb from the main street sidewalk into an alleyway and Theon would be forced to watch in order to catch his soul at the last moment of life, not unless he wanted to create a ghost which was a whole other problem. Even now, as Theon tailed Robb, he could see the mugger waiting, picking Robb as his target, not even aware of Theon’s presence. It wasn’t to say Theon wasn’t there, but most people didn’t notice what was right in front of them, least of all death. Death’s lackey, Theon’s mind supplied darkly.
And that’s when Theon dropped if fucking pumpkin spice latte. He wasn’t a klutz, not by any means, yet he felt utterly ridiculous as the drink splattered onto his shoes and stained the edges of his pants. As if he wasn’t already depressed enough that the man before him was going to die.
“Are you okay?”
Theon whipped his head up and blinked as he was met with a pair of river blues and a kind smile. Theon was tongued tied. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Robb Stark wasn’t even supposed to see him, let alone talk to him. The time of his death was ticking and if Theon didn’t make him move along he would miss it. He could worry about the fact that someone had seen him and he would worry about the fact that this wasn’t on Robb Stark’s official timeline after he was dead. He needed to make sure Robb Stark died because Theon didn’t want to know what the alternative was.
“Yeah, I’m fine, no problem,” Theon muttered, waving him off. He had two minutes of life left and he needed to give the muggers enough time to finish the job. It would have disgusted anyone else that Theon’s mind thought like that but he’d watched enough people die over and over again to become immune to it.
“Are you sure?” Robb took a step closer, further away from his death. Theon was panicking but Robb was examining his shoes. “Oh shit, is that pumpkin spice? My sister got her white sneakers stained with that once. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to actually get out.”
A minute and forty seconds left and Theon wondered if this was what actual fear felt like. He didn’t know the ramifications of altering the timeline and he sure as hell didn’t want to know, not even if it was preventing this young man’s death. “I’m not worried about it.”
Robb nodded his head as he reached into his pocket with his free hand and pulled out a wad of napkins. “This is all I have at the moment, but it should be able to help a bit with the wetness at least.”
Theon stared at the extended hand, half of his mind counting down the seconds of Robb Stark’s death and the other half wondering what would happen if they were the touch. Theon never touched anyone unless they were dead and even then, he only grabbed their souls. He could touch people, he was 80% sure of that, he had never tried it before. He never had a reason to before.
“Thanks,” Theon carefully reached and pulled a napkin from Robb’s hand, only letting his finger graze his skin to see what would happen but only finding human warmth and nothing else. His mind rang loudly that Robb Stark’s death was supposed to happen in a minute. He cursed loudly; shocking the young man, as he realized that Robb Stark’s stabbing was supposed to last a minute and fifteen seconds.
Instantly, it felt as if Theon had been cracked on the head with a baseball bat, his vision blurred and his stomach rolled. All balance was lost on him as he toppled over to the side and catching himself on Robb’s shoulder, the warmth seeping into his icy hands.
“Shit, are you okay?”
Theon frantically tried to steady himself as he viewed Robb Stark’s timeline but felt his throat tighten as he realized that Robb Stark had no timeline. Theon gasped, he knew there was supposed to be one, a few actually: his death that Theon had caused him to avoid and the one with the wife and high honors and the other merger ones in between. But they were all gone. Ever instance. All that was there was history and wasn’t that just fitting?
“I’m going to be sick,” Theon declared as his mind instantly went to Asha. He wondered if she ever fucked up so colossally. Probably not. Asha never fucked up.
“Why don’t we sit down?” Robb wrapped his arm around Theon’s shoulders and guided him to a bench, further away from the muggers who would have killed him, should have killed him. “My name is Robb, by the way.”
“Theon,” he offered weakly, his head feeling light as he put all his weight on Robb.
They reached the bench and Theon collapsed on it. Robb was at his side, hand steadying on his shoulder. “Should we call someone?”
“No!” Not Asha, she can’t know. “I just need to breathe, that’s all.”
Robb nodded his head before asking, “Are you diabetic?”
“What?” Theon’s eyebrows jumped and watched as Robb opened the box of pastries and grabbed the single croissant, the only pastries not slathered in chocolate.
“Here, eat this,” Robb offered. “My cousin shouldn’t mind anyway. I only got it for Jon because they were out of éclairs.”
Theon was too stunned to do anything but accept the pastry and Robb didn’t stop staring at him until he took a bite. It did nothing to settle his stomach as Theon mind frantically searched for Robb’s future and came up blank. His history was clear, marking everything that had and was happening but only that. Nothing else. There was no death, no wife, no high honors, no return home. Nothing.
“Thanks,” Theon whispered, trying to keep his fear under control. He was confident in all matters of fate but this wasn’t a matter of fate. This was a matter of nothing.
“It’s really no problem.” Robb smiled so brightly Theon thought he felt his heart actually beat out of his chest from it. “I saw you at the coffee shop earlier,” he mentioned idly and Theon jumped. No one was supposed to notice him. They could see him, sure, but no one was supposed to notice him, remember him or anything.
“You did?” Theon asked, trying to keep his nerves under wrap.
“Mhmm,” Robb blushed and Theon felt the heat (how the hell was that even possible? Theon wasn’t alive nor dead) creep onto his cheeks. “Uh, yeah, you were staring at me.”
If Theon could blush he would, or maybe he was. Everything was upside down and backward so who was to say he couldn’t blush? Robb Stark can apparently see death and avoid his own so really everything was on the table. “I just thought you were…” Theon couldn’t say fucking marked for death so he opted for what might seem like a normal human response, “-cute.”
This time, Robb blushed bright and yeah, the guy was really fucking cute but that was ultimately not the point. “Oh,” Robb looked down at his lap. “Thank you. You aren’t that bad yourself?”
Theon snorted a half-hysterical laugh, clenching his eyes shut to stop the tears from coming as he realized he was fucking flirting with the guy he was supposed to make sure died. Oh, what the hell. He dug his hole, might as well see it through and lie in it.
“Is that the best you got?” Theon remarked, feeling a swagger that he only felt when he knew the certainties of the future. However, Robb didn’t have certainties and that was almost just as much terrifying as it was thrilling. It brought forth a new sort of confidence that Theon wasn’t so opposed to.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” Robb was grinning full on now and it wasn’t quite the smile he was supposed to give that forgotten timeline’s future wife, but it was closer than any smile he had given previously. “One minute you were about to pass out on the street and now you want to get into my pants?”
Theon smirked. “Who said anything about that? At least take a guy out to dinner first.”
Robb flushed but shoved Theon’s shoulder lightly. “How about Friday at eight o’clock then?”
Again, Theon was thrown for another loop; nearly choking on the croissant he barely noticed he was nibbling away at. “What?”
“Dinner,” Robb said, his smile dimming and no, Theon was not going to let that happen.
“Sure, sounds good,” Theon remarked quickly and watched as warmth flooded to Robb’s face once more.
“Great, I can’t wait,” Robb reached into his bag, pulled out a pen and grabbed Theon’s cold hands. He quickly scribbled a series of digits and squeezed Theon’s hand once before winking. “Maybe afterward I can buy you another coffee?” His eyes dipped down to Theon’s shoes as further explanation.
“I’d…really like that, actually,” Theon admitted, the moment of honest hitting him harder than he thought possible but really, it wasn’t every day his targets for death was taking him out to dinner and now coffee too.
“Great,” Robb stood up and grabbed his one-croissant-lighter pastry box. “I should get going but text me later.”
“Absolutely,” Theon murmured quietly and in wonder. Sure, he had to get a phone that Asha wouldn’t know about but that was the least of his worries.
“Cool,” Robb smiled happily. “I can’t wait.”
“Me too,” Theon watched as Robb turned and began to walk down the street. Down the street he was supposed to die on- “Wait!” Theon stood up rapidly and raced toward Robb. “Maybe you should take Lafayette Street.”
Robb blinked in confusion. “Why?”
Theon raced to come up with an answer but couldn’t think of any other than, “It’s safer.”
Robb’s confusion morphed into a softer emotion as he nodded his head. “You’re probably right.” As he moved to walk past Theon, he quickly brushed his lips against Theon’s cheek. “See you Friday.”
Theon nodded, watching the redhead with no foreseeable future accept a date with death…like an actual fucking date, walk off. “See you Friday.”