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Thanatos knew about hearts, of course. The way they beat, the way they bled. Had burned his right hand down to the bone from handling their heat. Had been held prisoner by a king intent on freezing his own heart into an immortal state, for all the good it ultimately did him.
He did not have a heart, being created of ichor and darkness and his mother’s intention. None of the chthonic beings did, with one exception. Zagreus’ was so mighty, human hearts seemed frail before it. Yes, Thanatos only handled the dying ones, but those could be feeble and sickly or strong and cut down in the midst of battle. They could be full of love, or hate, or spite, or passion and they still could not compare to the light that beat inside Zagreus.
It felt like an independent living thing, curled up hot and bright inside his chest. It made his whole countenance glow, a light only outshone by the flames wrapped around his feet. And it was so obvious- through his skin, his eyes, his smile, to say nothing of the red of his blood.
Thanatos closed his eyes to better feel it tap against the back of his neck, from where it was pressed against Zagreus’ chest. They were tucked away in a hidden corner of Elysium, Zag’s back against a wall and Thanatos slouched against him, safely bracketed between his drawn-up knees. A warm hand was resting beneath his collarbone, comfortable in its weight. Thanatos had never been the kind of being to enjoy casual touches; they always set off alarm bells in his head, regardless if they were from family, friends, or foes. But from Zagreus they only brought a kind of contentment he’d never thought he’d feel. Something that settled deep within his bones and helped give him substance and presence.
He felt Zag shift, then the weight of his chin resting on the top of his head, further grounding him. It felt good for someone always hovering above the earth, constantly shifting between worlds, never feeling like he truly belonged anywhere. More of a concept than a person.
Zagreus slipped his other arm beneath his, wrapping around his chest, and all of the sudden he was being squeezed by all limbs, Zag’s knees pressing into his sides, pushing the air he didn't need out of his lungs in a huff. “What was that?” he murmured after the hug’s intensity had relented.
“I just love this,” Zagreus told him simply, joy coloring his words. “Being here with you.”
Thanatos didn’t know how to reply, couldn’t have spoken for the way his feelings grew up into his throat anyway. He knew the other wouldn’t take offense to his silence; Zagreus had long learned to hear even what he didn’t say.
Zag’s arm shifted to drape over his shoulder. Thanatos absently cradled his hand, drawing his fingertips over calluses and feeling the blood thrum at his wrist. He was so terribly alive.
“What’re you thinking about?” Zag asked quietly.
He hummed a little. “What your soul must look like.”
There was a surprised silence behind him, followed by a huff of laughter. “Of course you were. Thinking about work even now,” he teased.
But Thanatos hadn’t been thinking about work at all, or at least he hadn’t meant to be. Just that he trafficked in souls but the one closest to him was one he’d never see. Though his job was so much a part of his existence sometimes he had trouble teasing them apart.
“So?” He pushed his knee into Than a little, jostling him. “What would my soul look like, then?”
“Fire,” he responded immediately. “A ball of fire, blood red.” Hot, intense, eternal. A driving force.
Zagreus was quiet for a minute. “That does sound like me,” he admitted. “And yours?”
Thanatos thumbed the other’s wrist, mulling it over. “I doubt I have one.” No heart, no soul.
“Why wouldn’t you?” he demanded, sounding highly offended.
“Because I’m not like you,” he answered easily. Not a god, obviously not a human. Just a psychopomp. An embodiment of a concept.
“Than,” Zag protested, suddenly shifting them around. Thanatos let himself float up as the knees around him moved, the chest he’d been resting on disappeared, as he lost the arms that had been wrapped around him. Zagreus shifted over until he could see his incredulous face, those mismatched eyes alight with his inner fire. He let himself settle back down to the earth, their legs now tangled together. “What are you talking about? Of course you have a soul!”
“Why are you upset about this?” he asked, baffled.
Zag threw his arms out a little. “Why in darkness’s name would you not have a soul?”
“I don’t have a heart, I don’t bleed. I wasn’t born, merely created to fulfill a role. I’m just… an intention.” Probably he would cease to exist the moment mortals did, when his role had been fulfilled at long last. Not that it was likely; even now he could feel the tugs at his consciousness, souls demanding to be set free, to finally die. Their numbers had been growing as he’d idled here, but now they were reaching a breaking point. Thanatos would have to go soon.
“That doesn’t mean you don’t have a soul!” He was getting agitated, his feet singeing the grass below them. “Obviously you’re alive; you feel things!”
“That doesn’t prove I do have one, either,” he pointed out. Thanatos could feel himself growing cooler, more remote, an opposing response to Zag’s passion. Why were they talking about this? He’d never meant to turn this into a fight. He’d only been thinking nice things and now their time together was falling apart. He let himself float up again, untangling their legs, as he made to get ready to go.
“Don’t you dare run away!” Zag demanded, leaping to his feet and grabbing his wrist.
“Unlike some of us, I have a job to do,” Thanatos informed him coolly. “There are souls, actual souls out there, waiting for me.”
He could see the other grit his teeth at the word ‘actual.’ “You love, you feel pain, you bleed. You have a soul, Than!”
Had Zagreus lost his mind? The more he negated the obvious, the more he pushed the issue, the colder Than felt inside. Did he love? Did he feel pain? Or were they just reactions while in Zag’s presence? He never felt anything unless he was with Zag.
Perhaps they weren’t even his own feelings; merely reflections of the other's. Like a mirror.
Well there was one thing he could prove.
With a thought, his scythe was in his hand. Zag blinked, surprised, as Thanatos tilted it down towards where they were joined. With expert precision, he sliced shallowly into his skin just above Zag’s hand. Golden ichor flowed onto his fingertips.
Their eyes met. “I don’t bleed.” And Thanatos shifted away.
--
He took them gently, those human souls, even though he himself felt like a block of ice.
Sisyphus haunted him. He kept thinking about meeting the knave king in his palace, how he’d fallen prey to his desperate pleas and opened the chains in order to show him how they worked. And how that man had wrenched him in by his long hair, forced the chains over his wrists, left him alone in the darkness. A darkness less about light and more about his senses being completely shut off, unable to hear the calls of the dead or feel the eternal flow of Styx or tap into the essence of his own spirit. Which, in the end, was really all he was.
Time meant almost nothing for him. But he knew he was imprisoned for a long time. It had been Ares who eventually found him, took up his sword, and cut the shackles bruising gold around his wrists. Ares with his short white hair.
The first thing Thanatos did was shorn his own.
He’d had a lot of time to think in that darkness. A lot of time to reflect on his work, his life. How humiliated he felt. How trapped he was. How he would never feel so helpless again.
Thanatos had done his best, afterwards, modeling his life to ensure those feelings would never come to pass. He knew he was an exemplary and disciplined worker, knew how to listen for deceit from others and how to keep them away, how to rely only on himself so he would never be let down.
Zagreus had, of course, thrown much of his careful restraint into chaos, but not so much that it made Thanatos resent him. Although he liked things a certain and specific way, he also liked being challenged. So much of his life was the same. And while that was comforting, it was nice to be reminded how things could change as well.
Fighting with Zag, however, just made him feel those trapped, hopeless, dark emotions again. It ached that he could still be lured in and captured despite all of his care, that he was still so vulnerable, that someone else had such capacity to wound him. That he had, foolishly, thought himself known.
It made him sincerely doubt his decision to place so much trust in another person.
And so Thanatos worked. And worked. And became ill from too much time on the surface. And worked some more.
And watched rivers flowing, thinking of Styx. And floated amongst trees, letting their shade cool the burning of his Underworld eyes. And gazed up at the stars, contemplating his mother.
And missed Zagreus terribly.
--
It was almost a relief, feeling the pull from Mort as Zag called for him. His pride would have never let him return for a reason as clumsy and as foolish as yearning.
Thanatos appeared, helped Zagreus dispatch his remaining enemies, and forced himself not to shift away immediately. He wouldn’t back down from a fight.
But, of course, instead of finding fury from the other there was only delight as Zag ran over to him, calling his name. The ice Thanatos had forgotten about inside of him melted cautiously at the sight of the other man, even as he clocked how exhausted he looked.
“You’re here!” Zag honestly sounded surprised as he panted in front of him, absently wiping sweat from his forehead.
Of course he was. “You called.”
Mismatched eyes studied him. “You look awful.”
Thanatos knew his skin was a pale, sickly gray color from spending too much time on the surface. He didn’t realize he was retreating until Zagreus stepped forward and snagged his wrist, gently.
“Wait,” he implored. “Stay with me. Please.”
Oh, that Zagreus would ever have to beg for anything. Thanatos stilled. “You… don’t look well yourself.” Though gods didn’t really need sleep, they did need to rest, just like all beings. Zag’s countenance appeared wan, with slight bruises kissed under each eye.
“I’ve been going on a lot of runs,” he said ruefully, shrugging a little. “There’s a fountain over in that corner if you want to wash up?”
Thanatos hadn’t even broken a sweat, but understood that Zag didn’t want to let him out of his sight. They were in Elysium again, meaning Zagreus had already fought through Tartarus and Asphodel to get here. “Alright.”
Even though he’d been holding onto his gauntlet, Than swore it felt colder after Zag let it go. They made their way to the small fountain, Thanatos crossing his legs in midair as he idly watched the other man clean the sweat and blood from his arms and chest and hands, then grabbed the rim of the basin and dunked his entire head in.
Zagreus surfaced with a gasp, shaking his head like he was part of Cerebus. Than clicked his tongue, telling him, “Wait.” He reached over and deftly plucked the laurel, whose fire had been extinguished, from around his head before gesturing for him to continue. Zag grinned at him knowingly before starting to shake again. Thanatos had to look away, cheeks tingling in embarrassment.
Zagreus finally collapsed against the nearest wall with a loud sigh, wiping the last of the water from his face. Seeming much refreshed, he held out a hand for his laurel, only to grab Thanatos’ wrist again when the other extended the crown to him, tugging him gently closer. “Stay?” he asked earnestly.
Thanatos sighed a little and let himself settle on the ground next to him, feeling trepidatious. Zagreus kept ahold of his right wrist, so he transferred the laurel to his left hand and reached over to place it haphazardly on Zag’s head. The other righted it as it flickered back to flaming life, absently rubbing his thumb along the seams of Than’s gauntlet, studying him.
Thanatos kept his eyes firmly on where Zag’s hand met his wrist. Sitting this close to him, it was almost difficult to remember why he had been so angry, why he’d felt he had to stay away for so long.
Almost.
“I… thought you understood what I am.” There would be no future for them without this basic knowledge.
Zag inhaled slowly, deeply. “I understand who you are, Than.”
He almost asked who, exactly, that was, but decided he didn’t want to hear the answer.
The silence lingered.
“Why do you think-” Zagreus cut himself off, struggling. “Is there something that…” He obviously didn’t know how to continue.
Thanatos looked over at him, taking in the unhappy set of his mouth, the crease of his brow. “Why are you upset about this?” It was the same question he’d asked before, because he’d thought about it over and over but couldn’t come up with any kind of answer. “I’m not saying it’s some… lack. Some character deficiency. It’s just a fact.”
“No, but…” He squirmed a little, glancing around as if searching for the words. “I guess I feel like when you say you don’t have a soul, you’re not a person, you know?”
“Well.” Thanatos paused. He could just let this entire matter lie but… he needed Zag to understand. If he didn’t, what was left for them? “I’m not.”
Zagreus would have looked less shocked, less gutted, if he’d stabbed him.
Thanatos shifted, his stomach dropping down to reside somewhere around his feet, which were currently killing the grass around them. Usually he could control the death that emanated from his body, but when he was feeling out of control it was next to impossible.
And he was- feeling out of control. He had thought Zag had known, all this time. Was their relationship built on a misunderstanding? On a lie? Was this how it ended?
“I thought you knew,” he murmured weakly, feeling ill. He wanted to shift away so badly he thought he might be going incorporeal.
“No,” Zag demanded, blinking and coming back to himself. “No, Than, you can’t leave.” He scrambled up, and Thanatos was ready to move or float or shift away in response, but then Zag climbed into his lap instead, knees on either side of his hips, weighing him down. Warm hands found the sides of his face, forcing him to meet wild mismatched eyes. “You- you are a person! That is the most insane thing I’ve ever heard!”
Despair was eating him alive. His hands, braced behind his body, were surrounded by an ever-growing circle of dead grass. “I-”
He was cut off by Zag kissing him urgently. On his lips, his forehead, his cheeks, his lips again. He was muttering half-formed sentences feverishly: “How can you-” “What can I do to-” “Why would you believe-”
“Zag!” Thanatos interrupted desperately, grabbing his forearms. He was burning up. “What are- You have to know. I was created, not born, out of the shadows of stars and Nyx’s wish and the need for a peaceful reaper before you were ever conceived. I’m not a god or even a demigod; I’m just an idea, created for a specific purpose. If that purpose vanishes then so do I. I’m…” just the mirror of you, he didn’t say. “Just Death.”
“You’re Than,” Zagreus retorted hotly. “You like dark clothes and dim lighting, nectar more than ambrosia. Butterflies follow you around the Underworld. You helped me even when you were pissed at me and even though it defied my father!” Than tried to squirm away, he didn’t want to hear this, but Zag just held on tighter. “You’re the hardest worker I know and it’s not just because you were created for the job, but because you actually care about it. You like everything a certain way, beating me in our competitions, and a little stuffed animal I made for you when we were young.” Than was going to shift away without meaning to. He could feel the edges of his presence flickering already. “You’re fascinated by Styx, adore your mother, are proud of Hypnos these days, and somehow you can stand my chaotic heart.”
And then Zag did the kindest thing possible: he wrapped his arms around Thanatos’ head and hugged it tightly to his chest, letting him hide his burning cheeks. Thanatos crossed his arms behind Zag’s back, squeezing in both an attempt to quell his shaking and to not vanish.
“I think that you’re all soul,” Zagreus declared. “Like, you are a soul and the rest is just packaging. I mean great packaging but… Than.” He sounded so helpless. “There's no one else like you. Of course you’re a person; you're one of the best people I know.”
Thanatos felt as if he’d been struck by Zeus' lightning, the way he trembled and how his mind was nothing but static. All he could think about was being chained on the surface, waiting in the void, how he’d shoved all his messy feelings into a tiny room inside his mind, and how Zag had just kicked down the door and let them all fly free without thinking of the consequences.
Zagreus was combing his hands through his hair now, so gently. “I love you,” he murmured. Than could feel the truth of it pounding through Zag’s heart, which he felt against his forehead, laying on his warm chest.
For so long Thanatos had felt carved out, hollow. Just a person-shaped idea. He’d been imprisoned and so humiliated that he’d tried to keep himself from feeling too deeply afterwards, about anything, smothering any errant emotion lest it serve trap him again. Instead he had focused on his work, only thinking about the next assignment and how to do his job in the most efficient manner possible. Just concentrating on the immediate future and few things outside of it.
But then he’d heard that Zagreus was fighting his way through the Underworld, desperate to escape their home, and hadn’t even bothered to let him know. The feeling of betrayal had wanted to tear him apart, but he forced himself not to engage with it, instead focusing on his anger since he couldn’t help but assist the other. Eventually both had melted away as Zag apologized and explained, as he let himself understand the different motivations that drove people's lives, but maybe that hurt had been the first crack in that door. It had been something that he couldn't help but feel, despite his best efforts.
Perhaps, for so long, it had just been easier to feel empty. Soulless. It was simpler not to pay attention to his own emotions, to keep them locked away in that room, to refuse to engage with them. Even being with Zagreus, he was more focused on how the other felt than himself. As long as Zag was happy, Than was content. He didn’t feel the need to look any deeper.
But, of course, Zag had been paying attention to how Thanatos felt in turn. Had been nothing but patient and kind as he'd handled Than's spiky feelings of betrayal. Had given away his whole heart without realizing that he was getting so little in return.
Thanatos did not have a soul, of that he was certain. But… he must be a person, or at least person-shaped enough, to be worthy of Zag’s affections.
He pulled away from the warm chest in front of him, looking up at Zagreus. Whatever the other man saw, it was enough for him to cup Than’s cheeks again, to draw him into a sweet kiss, to thumb the drying tears from under his eyes.
“I love you, too,” Thanatos murmured.
Zagreus sighed a little, smiling sadly. “Gods you break my heart sometimes.” Than flinched slightly in response, feeling too raw still, and received another kiss as an apology. “Wanna go home?”
Thanatos could admit to himself that he did, very much, indeed want to go home. He’d been away for so long that even Elysium felt too bright. “Hold on,” he whispered, before shifting both of them into Zagreus’ bedroom.
He kept them floating long enough for Zag to stretch his legs down, then lowered them to the floor. With perfect understanding of what they each wanted, they piled their ornaments, greaves, weapons, and pauldrons into a corner. Than made to climb into the bed but was stopped by Zagreus’ hand on his. No, on his gauntlet.
Thanatos met Zag’s eyes and, seeing only a gentle question there, pulled the gauntlet off, letting the bones of his right hand flex in the warm air. They fell into bed, wrapped around each other, legs tangled. Zagreus let Than tuck his head into the crook of his neck, face pressed against his shoulder, while one arm wrapped around Than’s waist and the other hand found his hair.
Thanatos stroked his warm back gently with his left hand, feeling the muscles of his shoulders and the dip of his spine, letting his bony right hand lay idle under his side. He breathed him in, smelling smoke and darkness and heat. Smelling home.
Zagreus pulled back just enough to kiss his forehead before settling again, both men letting themselves grow heavy against each other.
Thanatos resolved himself to do better, to be better. Zag deserved much more than a shade, a concept who inexplicably found himself loved. Though he didn’t have a heart of his own, he did have Zag’s. He would have to take care of it justly.