One shots are so much easier than filling in holes in a longer story *cough*bumps*cough*

Mythology AU. Just a teensy weensy bit sad. But apparently all I can really write is sadness. Or stuff with overly sad backstories. Oh well. EMBRACE IT.

"Gajeel!"

Staring up at the sky, he growled quietly. Just his luck.

Closing his eyes, he tried his best to ignore the faint voice, hoping that it would go away if it didn't notice him. As the peaceful silence lengthened, he felt himself growing calmer again, the light breeze and the cool marble under his back drawing away the heat of his frustration.

Only to have it return moments later when the sound of light footsteps reached his sensitive ears. He could already feel a scowl tightening his face. Rolling onto his side so he was facing away from his visitor, he grunted, "Save it, shrimp. Not in the mood to be yapped at."

He could practically feel her glaring at his back. Any minute now…

"Gajeel, what are you doing here?!" Ah, there she goes.

"'M taking a break, what's it look like?" Might as well egg her on, if she was going to interrupt his rest.

Behind him, he could hear her grit her teeth and feel the strength of her redoubled glare against his prone form. Oops. Maybe that wasn't the best idea.

Levy glared at him, furious. What the hell was he thinking?! They didn't have the luxury of breaks like these. None of them did. Their world hung in a delicate balance, and they all needed to do their part.

"A break? A BREAK? Gajeel, you KNOW how important it is to keep the cycles running! Especially our part! Everything is going to Hell in a handbasket. Except, you know, NOTHING is going to Hell. I can't put any more souls into the world unless some of the old ones are cleared away, you know that! No babies are being born, no one is dying – Gajeel, there are people trapped in the agony of a terminal disease, unable to be free because of your BREAK! Not to mention all the problems the others are having – Gildarts and Erza being pulled in all directions by undying soldiers waging wars on their neighbors, fields are raging out of control because weeds can't be culled, Mavis is being besieged by her oracles trying to figure out what's happening, and the Fates – Mira especially – are absolutely LIVID thanks to you backing up their looms! All the mortals' threads are tangled up and uncuttable! Not to mention-"

He couldn't take it anymore. Enraged, he pushed himself up and spun towards her, black cloak whirling. Advancing towards her, he snapped, "Can it! Don't come storming up here with that damned self-righteous stick up your ass, blowing in and telling ME how to do my job – the hell do you know about Death?" Unbidden, the hateful words kept spilling out. He snarled at her, "You just sit around in the clouds all day, sending souls into the world in whatever whimsical way you want. Throwing together people with no regard for what sort of messed up shit they'll do in life, how many people they'll hurt or what they'll destroy or anything. Just leave me BE, already!" With that, he stomped away to the other side of the wide roof, crashing down and throwing his legs over the edge, body rigid in anger.

Immediately, he was swamped with a wave of guilt. It wasn't her fault. He shouldn't have gone that far… he couldn't bear to look back at her. Whatever look of disgust or hurt she wore would be far worse than just stewing in his own self loathing.

Caught up in his own thoughts, he didn't notice the soft, hesitant footsteps approaching him until a rustle of cloth alerted him to the small form dropping down next to him. Her dainty arm brushing his muscular one, their appearances just as opposite as their roles in the grand scheme of things – pure, sweet Life and dark, brooding Death.

The silence stretched, unbroken, as they stared out over the misty terrain, her feathery touch banishing the last of his anger.

Eventually, he sighed, feeling defeated.

"I'm just… tired."

She sat in silence, waiting for him to elaborate. She wasn't angry at his outburst – sure, it had shocked her, but it showed her that there was more going on than loafing. She'd seen him unleash his volatile temper plenty of times – especially with Natsu when the fiery hothead wasn't up in the sky – but in all their centuries together, he'd never turned it on her. Whatever was going on, she wanted to help him.

Staring down at his hands, he continued, voice rough. "Wars are bad enough – at least soldiers are prepared to die. Same with old age. It's the other deaths that get me – innocent people murdered in cold blood, perfectly healthy ones that waste away of an unexpected plague, victims of sudden accidents. I'm tired of following a broken thread and finding at the end souls that fear me. They beg, they plead, desperate for more time, but I can't do anything. All I can do is take them away from their loved ones, dragging their sorrow and regret like a damn ball and chain. But…" he clenched his hands into fists. "Even worse than the desperate ones, the sorrowful ones, are the evil ones. Terrible men and women that still hold onto whatever mad vision drove them. They try to con their way out, try to coax me into helping them, going on and on about their actions, justifying their atrocities… it hurts me, Lev." His voice cracked as he finished.

Tears pricked at her eyes. She felt numb, shocked that he'd been bottling all this up. He never showed any signs of distress, or any of the burdens the souls of the dead placed on him. Rubbing away the tears that threatened to spill over, she leaned her head against his shoulder and murmured, so quietly that the breeze barely carried the sound to his ears,

"I'm sorry, my love."

Exhaling softly, he caught her hand in his, twining their fingers together, marveling at how she could banish all his worries with just a few words and a little bit of contact. Tugging her closer, he closed his eyes for a moment, breathing in her scent, absorbing the sense of calm that radiated off of her. Just holding her close, listening to the faint wisps of sound carried on the Winds.

Refreshed, he stood, pulling her to her feet with him. He stretched, cracking his shoulders and surveying the world stretching out before him, far below their great hall in the sky. Levy smiled softly, heart lighter now that he was healed. Reaching out, she grasped the front of his shadowy black robes and pulled him down, closing her eyes. Leaning to meet her, he cupped her face in his large, callused palms and pressed their foreheads together.

Eventually, she pulled away, nudging him and gesturing to the Sun slipping towards the horizon. Catching his hand again, she whispered, "If you hurry, you can make it before the day is up." Gazing across the sky with her, he grimaced. Time to get a move on.

She bumped him. "Hey."

He glanced down at her, face softening in response to her own gentle look.

"Come back once you're done. I'll explain to the others... no need to hide in Hell."

Sighing, he nodded in grudging assent. She released his hand and stepped back, satisfied, a peaceful smile on her face.

With one last, lingering glance, he stepped off the roof, riding the four Winds to every corner of the world, picking up where he had left off. Carrying the old souls, the unfortunate souls, the warring souls, all of them, far away to his domain, hidden from mortal eyes.

She watched him go, closing her eyes and reaching out. She felt the balance of Life in the world shift, souls whose departures were overdue finally leaving the mortal plane. A faint smile touched her lips as she felt the world sigh in relief, glad to be unburdened. Slowly, small lights materialized out of the air, glowing with the pale radiance of new Life. Capturing each one in her dainty hands, she communed with it briefly, planting within it a seed of who it could become in the future. Twirling, she sent the new souls scattering across the world with a flick of her wrist, filling the empty spaces that had been created by Death's return.

As he paused in his journey, waiting for an old grandfather to bid his final farewells, he felt the fresh new souls entering the world, drifting on the Winds until they found their destination. The old man turned to him, peaceful and ready to move on. As he took the elder's hand, lips parting to speak the words to send him on, his eye was caught by a light – a tiny soul, some time from being born, lingering around the tearful daughter and her husband.

He smiled softly. His Life always did like to bring things full circle.

She had always understood him best, been able to read his heart no matter how hard he hid it. He could keep her grounded when the creation of life started to carry her away, and she could lighten his loads when ending those same lives dragged him down.

He wasn't bright and brash like Natsu, the Sun. She didn't shine as brightly as Lucy, the Moon.

He wasn't flashy like Laxus, and she wasn't strong like Erza.

They weren't the other gods. She was the giver of life, and he took it away.

And together, they completed each other.