Chapter Text
Well, here goes nothing.
Death took a deep, steadying breath. Not that she needed to breathe, but she found the practice centering. She would need to be calm, for what was to come.
She walked through the infinite darkness, feeling it press on all sides of her like a living thing. It should be terrifying. To anyone else, it would be. Well, to anyone but her and her siblings.
To them, it felt like the beginning. It felt like home. Like Mother.
Death reached out, and pushed aside the darkness. It moved easily under her touch, and silken, cold oblivion solidified into rough foliage under her fingers. She pushed her way through, ducking to avoid being poked in the face by spiked fronds. Her next step landed on solid brick, and the path into the center of the Night Garden was illuminated by distant starlight. Her footsteps echoed in the utter stillness of the garden as she made her way.
“Hello? Mother?” Death called out. “I’m here. Like you asked.”
“I know. I could hear those dreadful boots of yours stomping as soon as you arrived.”
Death turned, and found her Mother standing behind her with pursed lips.
“It’s been an eternity since you visited, and that’s what you decide to wear?” Mother Night said. Her gaze raked up and down Death’s form, and she shook her head disapprovingly. “Not even a dress or a robe.”
“I like how I look, Mother,” Death said with a shrug, looking down at her torn black jeans and comfortable leather jacket. “I’m sorry you don’t.”
“I didn’t say that. There you go putting words in my mouth again.” Night sighed deeply. “You’ve always been such a pretty girl, it’s just a shame you choose not to accentuate it.”
“You mean be more like you?” Out of all of the Endless, Death was the one whose original corporeal aspect resembled her mother’s the most. It added an extra facet of complication to their relationship. It was never easy being the eldest daughter of a large family, especially with parents as…complicated as Time and Night.
“I’m just saying. With looks like yours, you could’ve had a suitor aeons ago. Then I’d have some grandchildren to spoil.”
Unexpected anger flared in Death. “You did have grandchildren!” An image of tiny Orpheus came to her mind, smiling and laughing from his father’s lap. He looked so alive, so golden, as his father Oneiros smiled proudly down on him.
“Mmmm,” Night hummed, turning with a dramatic flourish of her robe. She always did that when she’d been corrected. “Your children will be much more memorable, I’m sure. And wiser. But then again, what could you expect from Dream’s offspring? Him taking up with a muse , of all things!”
Death breathed hard through her nose. Steady, centered, calm.
“Your brother was not known for his sense. So sentimental. So self-centered.” Night stopped in front of a rose bush full of black-petaled flowers, and picked an invisible speck off one of the leaves. “Always getting himself into trouble, and expecting us to clean up after him.”
“He never asked you for anything. Except your love,” Death said softly. Her heart twisted. Morpheus had only been gone a few months, but she missed him keenly. She loved Daniel, but she was still familiarizing herself with this new facet of her brother.
“He came to me before he died.” Mother Night looked up at Death. “I offered him my help, but he was too proud to take me up on my generous offer. So, once again, it’s up to me to tidy up after you lot.”
“What do you mean, tidy up? What’s there to be done? He’s…gone.” Death had felt the moment he’d ceased to exist, and had watched as what was left of his essence had gone over the falls and disappeared into the void of night…
Night.
Wait.
“Mother, have you…have you done something?”
Mother Night’s eyes twinkled, her lips curled up into a secretive smile. She crooked a finger at Death, urging her to follow as she walked deeper into the garden. The plants grew thicker, more wild the further they went, and Death had to struggle to keep up with her mother’s easy gait.
“Mother, what have you done?”
“Only what any loving mother would do when their baby falls. They caught him.”
Mother Night pushed aside a final clump of leaves, and led Death into a nestled alcove. There waited a long, obsidian bier, and lying upon it, a lean figure covered in a white cerement. Death didn’t need to look at the sigil embroidered on the celestial matter, or the ghostly lines of the beloved face underneath to know what it was.
Who it was.
“No!” Death growled. “You have no right to—”
“I have every right!” Mother Night’s voice boomed. “The only right! A mother’s right!”
“This goes against every law you and Father set!”
“That is precisely why I am doing this.” Mother Night ran a tender hand across the figure’s chest as she spoke. “To remind that stubborn goat who he is dealing with. He never cared for Dream. Found him clingy and irrational, prone to foolish notions like hope and justice.” She looked up at Death with damp eyes, which were so convincing that Death was sure Mother believed herself to be mourning. “Those were the things that made Dream my most precious one. He was never as grand as Destiny, or as clever as you. But he was loads better than the rest of the lot, and I want him back.”
“He’s not truly gone, Mother. He’s transformed. He may be different, but he is still himself.”
“You mean Daniel Hall?” Mother Night spat out. “He is an aberration. A creature cobbled together of human ghosts and stolen energy. He is not my son. This is my son, and I want him back!”
“I can’t bring him back,” Death said softly.
“You can. You just don’t want to, because you are selfish. You don’t want to see me happy.” Mother Night narrowed her eyes. “You’ve always been jealous of me. Are you trying to kill me with grief so you can pretend to take my place?”
“No!” Death cried out in exasperation. “That’s not why!”
“You need a why? I’ll give you a why .” Mother Night loomed closer to Death. There was nothing but darkness, unchanging, all-consuming. “If you do not restore your brother, then I will cast my mourning shroud across the universe. Stars will dim and flicker out. Galaxies will freeze. All will become dust and ice once more, and the rest of you ungrateful children will also meet the same fate.”
“You wouldn’t,” Death said. Even as she spoke, she shivered, the cold of eternity seeping into the core of her being.
“I absolutely would, and have before.” The darkness receded, leaving only the human-shaped form of her Mother standing before her. She gave Death a smile, but it was as cold as her touch. It wasn’t a comfort, it was a weapon. “So, be a good daughter, and bring your brother back.”
Death looked helplessly down on Morpheus’ shrouded form.
“I am tired, my sister.”
She had been the one to give him peace, at last, and now she was going to take it away.
“All right,” she said softly, “but there are conditions. It will take time.”
Mother laughed humorlessly. “You really think I'm so ignorant that I don’t know how this works?”
“I just want to make sure you understand. I can give him life, but I cannot make him Endless again. His power has been transferred.”
“Yes, yes, I know,” Mother waved her hand dismissively. “I don’t care about that. I want my Dream, my Morpheus, with his pretty blue eyes and his sentimental ways. I’ll keep him here, with me, safely tucked away where he won’t bother anyone.”
No. Death couldn’t leave Dream alone with Mother Night, not being freshly returned. He would be too fragile, too human. Mother would get impatient, and do something rash. Or, just neglect him again, which would have devastating effects on a human. She didn’t really want her son back—she wanted a pet that would amuse her.
“Like I said, Mother, it will take time,” Death said, carefully choosing her words. “He will not be able to fully appreciate your love if I bring him back here. He will be a burden to you rather than a joy. Wouldn’t it be better for someone else to take care of him while he’s recovering, so that when he arrives, he’s fully ready to enjoy your company?”
Mother Night tapped her chin, thinking. “That’s a fair point. I’m far too busy to tend to a sick child.” She nodded. “That is acceptable. Take him, resurrect him, and when he is ready, bring him back to me.” She stepped aside, and gestured to the body. “Now. This has been quite the unpleasant affair. It really didn’t have to be, you know. You always make things so much more complicated than they have to be.”
Death ignored her mother’s final dig as she approached her brother’s form. He looked so completely serene, and Death felt a wave of remorse roll through her. She leaned down over him, and extended her wings.
I am sorry, brother. I would have honored your peace, but our mother has forced my hand. I promise you though, that I will keep you safe for as long as I can.
Death’s wings folded down, hiding them both from their mother’s piercing gaze. Then, Death pulled from the depths of her being, and breathed into Morpheus’s shrouded face.
There was no flash of light, no fanfare. There wasn’t even a birth cry. There was just silence, then a strangled gasp. Death looked down. The cerement was gone, revealing Morpheus’ pale face, and she felt the music of his heartbeat join the chorus of existence.
Before their mother could see him, Death pushed them both down and out of the realm of Night. She cradled her brother close as she traversed the barriers of space and time, moving as quickly as she could. These liminal spaces were no place for a mortal, especially one as fragile as a freshly resurrected one.
Well, he wasn’t really resurrected, was he? He’d never been made of flesh and bone, or molded from clay, or built from machinery. This Dream was something wholly new, made of the cosmic energy that made up the Endless, condensed into raw, physical matter.
But, where could Death take him? The Dreaming? No. He didn’t belong there anymore, even if everyone there would look after him. She supposed he could stay in her realm, but Mother would expect that. There really was only one place to take him in this corporal form…
And only one person she could think of to help him.