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It had begun to be endlessly amused at the bodies they had. Old and young, Life and Death. In fact, by the time Death had walked off to explore, Life was in danger of dissolving into maniacal laughter it saw it. Just the mere thought of Death being in the body of a child was enough to set it off—less so the thought of itself being in the body of an old man.

If the universe had been kinder, it would have been the other way around.

There were bigger things to think about, though, and maybe that was why it was focusing on their appearances. That felt far too human for it to be comfortable. So did being glad it didn’t have to look at its own face.

It didn’t know how it would go seeing its face all the time, feeling all the aches and pains was bad enough, especially as they bent to get to get something Michael had asked for.

With nothing better to do, Life had been made Michael’s helper, an extra set of hands.

He had walked it to where he was clearly still working on it, the clear line between the restoration and the ruins rather jarring. It had almost forgotten about the ruins. Which was ridiculous, they hadn’t been gone that long, had they?

He had walked to a bench, just inside the restored area, and sat on the ground before it, toolbox appearing beside him, settling in to work until on it until it didn’t look like it would collapse under a feather.

Leaning on the gate behind the bench, Life now just watched, unable to move. It had always loved creation, but restoration and rebirth had always been fascinating. How something could be so close to death, how someone could be at their lowest point, and it only took one person to bring them back.

It couldn’t exactly say what stopped them from moving, but Life had the whole of human existence, and possibly longer, to work it out. For the moment, it was content to just watch Michael fix a bench.

As he worked, he didn’t walk around the bench, instead disappearing and reappearing from where he was to where he wanted to be, and Life wondered if he ever walked when he was alone. And why would he? It looked like it was tiring work, who would want to walk if they didn’t have to?

Slithering out from under the seat, Michael peered up at Life. “Test it.”

Life hesitated for only a moment before walking towards it—which it was proud of itself for, the pause could have been longer. Michael was only eight and his reconstruction skills were dubious, but Life trusted his subconscious if nothing else. It had delivered it to his body, after all.

Almost everything cracked as they sat, and they sighed. It might have been the relief of finally sitting down, or that the chair felt worn down by many, many people using it, but it was rather comfortable. Life could almost see themselves sitting there until a way out landed on its lap. Unlikely, but it didn’t think anything else would get it standing again at the moment. Not with its knees throbbing.

Having an old body—and an even older soul—was painful, and Life didn’t know how humans did it without sitting down every ten minutes. Not for the first time, it wanted to have a fellow old person there to teach it how to navigate having and old body, how to deal with the aches and pains when surrounded by the young.

Apparently, even immortal beings who had been around for millennia did actually have something to learn. Like how sitting to relieve knee pain didn’t always work, but stretching out the legs does.

When Life stretched out, Michael exhaled. Whether it was because Life had actually done it or because the bench did not collapse was unclear.

“Well, if it didn’t collapse under you by now, I guess it never will.” Michael patted the back of the seat and stood up, tool box clutched in his hand.

Life felt almost like it should follow, but was unwilling to give up the only seat it’d have for a while. Listening to Michael’s footsteps as he walked away, they rubbed their knees, and then there were the sounds of Death’s footsteps, coming from the other direction. At least Life thought it was Death, not looking up only left assumptions and common sense.

When the pressure between them became stronger, it was clear it was Death, who stopped just before it could have become dangerous.

Life looked up to see Death smirking, hands in the pockets of its jumper. Life looked away. Death would have seen it rubbing its knees as it had approached, and was probably two seconds away from saying something about it. But all Death said was, “Where’d the kid go?”

It was as if it knew Life would also attack its appearance. “That way.”

Death walked the way Life had indicated, but paused once it reached the end of the bench, looking at Life like there was something it wanted to say. Their eyes met, and Life found it couldn’t exactly look away from the hopelessness in Death’s eyes. As suddenly as it had happened, Death looked away and cleared its throat. “I would help you up but I have a feeling that would be bad for both of us.”

Life groaned, Death’s implication clear as day.

It did not want to get up, but Death wasn’t moving, and it probably wouldn’t until life was standing beside it. They groaned again and made as much noise as possible as they stood. Getting up hurt, moving hurt, doing anything hurt. And they were going to make sure everyone knew it while they did something they didn’t want to do.

Once Life was standing, Death rolled its eyes and took off far faster than Life could follow. They hobbled after it—or rather, felt like they were hobbling after it. They were not walking fast, and they were in pain. Before the thought had even fully formed in their head, there was a cane in Life’s hand. It was plain wood, a gold circlet attaching the handle.

Out of curiosity, Life twisted it, but nothing happened. Sighing, it continued walking, the clack of the cane alerting Death and Michael to its approach.

Walking with the cane was much easier, Life realised as its pace picked up and it could see Death and Michael through the ruins of the amusement park. By the time Life caught up to them, Death was staring at Michael and Michael was staring right back, licking melted ice cream off his hand. It had dripped from the cone he held, his hands suspiciously devoid of the dark substance coating his arms—Life assumed it was what humans called ‘grease’. It suggested an innocence that was not reflected in his eyes, those were hard as rocks.

The way Death was staring at him did not help the look of innocence, either. It was staring at him like he either held the secrets to the universe and was refusing to share, or he had known how to get Life and Death out of his subconscious the whole time and he had just admitted to it.

Life thought the latter was more likely. What would an eight-year-old know about the universe?

“Might I ask what happened?” Life asked the moment it could feel the tension between Death and Michael as well as the pressure between itself and Death.

Life thought it should back up just in case Death done something unprecedented. It stayed where it was.

Death spoke before Michael could even think to open his mouth. “I have an idea that may end in us getting out of his head, but he says ‘no’.”

Life didn’t think Michael would be that stupid. It held up a hand to stop him from speaking. “And what is this idea?”

“There might be something deep within the recesses of his subconscious that could get us out of here.” Death looked at Michael, with the look of a child feeling superior to another child. “And he doesn’t want to go.”

Michael opened his mouth in indignation, forgetting about eh ice cream in his hand and flinging it wide, what was left of his single scoop of vanilla flying out of the cone. “Not only would it be dangerous because I don’t know what’s there, but we wouldn’t even know where to look or what we would even be looking for!”

He sounded more desperate than angry.

“But you do know where we have to go.”

Life had the feeling the situation was getting away from it, not that it really had it to begin with.

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Michael said, bringing his empty ice cream cone back to his open mouth only to find it empty. He looked back to Death, outrage on his face. “Look what you made me do!”

Life was concerned that there hadn’t been outrage on his face earlier.

“I did not make you fling your ice cream out of your hand, and don’t you want us out of your head?!”

“Of course I want you out of my head!” Michael flung his cone onto the ground. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to risk killing myself for it!”

“Oh, we all know you’re going to be dead by the end of the week anyway, what’s a few more days on top of that!”

Even Life raised its eyebrows at that.

Michael faltered, mouth open, comeback dead on his lips. As the words registered, Michael slowly sunk back in on himself, mouth closing as his eyes softened and he began looking around for an exit. Even as he did that, his face was morphing into the shock of someone who hadn’t yet come to terms with their own death. Death should have known that already.

Michael stumbled back, pausing only to pick up his toolbox before running. And Death was still looking after him with the burning hatred of a thousand suns, though Life could tell it was slowly regretting its words.

Life was surprised it hadn’t ran, too.

Death breathed a curse and looked to Life. “What now?”

“I have an idea.” Gripping their new cane tighter, Life said, “I wish for me and Death to go to the furthest reaches of Michael’s subconscious.”

The effect was instantaneous. It was not travelling, could not even be loosely described as it. It was more like blinking out of the amusement park and into wherever they were in less than a second. Life and Death barely dared to move.

Much like the grey expanse, it was filled with things they would not have expected of an eight-year-old’s subconscious. Only this time, instead of there being nothing, there was what appeared to be a perfectly normal suburban street. Two and one storey houses, separated by generous lawns, all the same suburban colours, with driveways, most big enough to fit two cars side-by-side. Overhead, the sky was blue, barely a cloud in the sky, the sun an unseeable light.

And the more Life looked, the more the street seemed … off.

For one, it didn’t look like there was an end to it, the houses and street going off long into the distance. It turned around to confirm that it was the same in both directions. And that was when it came face to face with the only car on the street. Sitting in the middle of the road, the driver in what seemed to be a perpetual shadow. There didn’t even seem to be sound coming from its engine.

There was no sound in the whole street. The houses all seemed to be lived in—curtains and blinds open, lawns mowed, flowers planted in orderly rows, the odd basketball hoop attached to a garage door, shoes in front of most front doors—but there was nothing else to say anyone was living in them. They didn’t even have any cars.

On top of that, its ears were doing that strange thing again. Like there was both too much and not enough air.

Life and Death looked at each other.

“No, I swear I felt something!”

Life and Death’s eyes widened. Neither of them had said a word, and yet the words echoed in the silent dome of this place.

A door squeaked open somewhere to Life’s right, and Death, who had a perfect view, ran around the car to crouch behind it and watch through the windows, eyes wide, waving at Life to follow. Life rolled its eyes. What was it thinking? Its body was not as nimble as Death’s, it couldn’t just crouch behind a car because Death demanded it.

Before it could say any of that, though, Life followed.

There was something weird about this place, and how the people to Life’s right seemed to be only ‘living’ things in there.

Knowing it would regret it later, Life knelt behind the car door, peaking up just enough to see through the front windows and to the door, currently open, letting a family of three out onto the front porch.

“He knows we’re here!” the mother said. “After last time, he wouldn’t dare!”

They all seemed kind of familiar, but Life couldn’t trust itself on that. It had seen every single person to grace the earth at least once. The feeling of familiarity itself was familiar, easy to brush off.

Harder to brush off as the father spoke as the door closed behind him. “It could have something to do with what happened earlier.”

“Maybe,” the mother said, worryingly looking at the street through something held up to her eyes.

“What was that anyway?” the first voice popped up again, which had belonged to someone who looked, strangely, like Death’s body.

“Not sure,” the mother said while the father said, “It could have been one of Them.”

To that, the child said, “Then where was the other one?”

A few moments of that all-encompassing silence passed as Life realised just how close it was to Death. Then it was impossible to ignore the pressure.

It was stifling, trying to get Life to stand up and walk away, watch Death and the strange family from the house across from them, or maybe whatever was behind that house. But Life wasn’t sure it could get up from where it knelt on the ground, cane or not, and the moment it thought that, Death was rolling away from it, stopping at the end of the back windows, in less than a second.

Life turned its attention back to the family, who seemed to be looking directly at them. Life could not explain the fear that came over it, only that the idea of that family getting any closer to them made them wonder what would happen if it touched Death. It understood mortality and humans a bit more than they had in a long, long time.

“We need to get out of here,” Death whispered, anxiety making their voice shake.

Life had no reason to argue. Who knew what damage they would do while deep in the kid’s subconscious, not to mention whatever was happening on that porch. Life could no longer see the child.

Whispering, Death said, “I wish for me and Life to be taken back to the amusement park.”

Blink out. Blink in.

Life was almost sure it still echoed in that street. That was irrelevant now, though, because they were not in front of it, but its armchair was. They almost started crying at the sight of it for two reasons.

The first, Life didn’t know it was possible to miss an inanimate object that much. The second, the sight of it meant they were at the beginning of the amusement park again, and they would have to walk through it all again to find wherever Michael had run to.

Life closed their eyes and took the first step.

Prev.

You get flower!!

He can't say it was unexpected, but it made his tail flare up.