So earlier I was looking for an expression that meant 'to die'. Little did I know that I'd stumble upon a pretty intense Wikipedia article all about different expressions relating to death. All the expressions are real, the song lyrics are Different Names For The Same Thing. Tell me if you like!

Disclaimer: I don't own the following characters.

Different Names

Alone on a train aimless in wonder
An outdated map crumbled in my pocket
But I didn't care where I was going
'Cause they're all different names for the same place.

Every walk of life

"You have an American accent," someone called.

He spun around and spotted the pretty woman who'd been sketching up until then, looking at him with luminescent eyes the colour of clouds.

"Can't seem to shake it," Hermes shrugged. She laughed.

"You know what, I saved up since I was a little girl to go backpacking one day and what do I keep running into when I finally get to leave? The same burger chains, the same slang, the same American tourists." She said.

"Well then you haven't left far enough," Hermes said.

"I haven't?"

"Nope," Hermes said. "We're in Switzerland. I mean, sure the skiers are all American, but if you go looking there are places where a word of English won't get your farther than your nose."

"I'd like that," she said.

"Mind if I help you find those places?"

"Not at all," she smiled. "But names are good. I'm May."

"I'm Hermes."

"Funny," May said. "That's the traveling god. Has the irony ever stroke you as odd?"

"No irony whatsoever," Hermes said. May moved uncomfortably.

"Literally?"

George fidgeted around the caduceus. Oh she's good boss.

Get her some coffee, Martha chimed in.

Life of the party

May was using her hands as she talked, trying to tell a joke via gestures and charades. The band of older gentlemen she was talking to would point and shout something in German, and May would just laugh and shake her head and bob her head forwards laughing, ponytail flying.

"Let me try this again," she said rolling her finger to gesture it. "Again?" She tried.

"Wieder," Hermes filled in.

She turned towards him, jaw dropped. "You speak German? Well get over here and tell them the one about the green and purple grape!" She said enthusiastically.

The German men laughed at her energy, smiling and bright-eyed.

"May, that joke's horrible."

"Oh, you love those. Stop being a guppy and translate."

Larger than life

May took a step back to observe the mural she'd just been commissioned to paint, and drummed her fingers on her lips. The bright red lipstick was tainted with green in a heartbeat.

"May," Hermes said shaking his head.

She spun around eyes wide. "What? Do you think it's too abstract?"

"No, I think it's nice," he said. It was an enormous planet earth with each main school subject represented in a continent. The world itself was the iris of a giant eye, and the school's motto was spelled out over it. "You just have something here," he said tapping his lip.

Instead of wiping her lips, May leaned in towards him and pecked him quickly.

"Thanks May," he said wiping his lips.

"Anytime, dear."

Life is just a bowl of cherries

May pushed Luke's baby swing back and forth with one hand, and she sketched with the other. The sun was shining all over the house she'd inherited from her parents, shining on her gorgeous hair, their beautiful baby, her amazing sketch...

He climbed the driveway, lined with tiny little lanterns, and she looked up. She smiled and took the inking pen out of her mouth, tucking her pencil in her bun.

"Hey you," she said smiling. "How's life?"

"Like a bowl of cherries," he said rushing up the porch's stairs and wrapping an arm around her quickly. "Couldn't be better. What are you drawing?"

He showed her seven silhouettes, casting animal shadows.

"Looks intense," he said.

May shrugged. "It just came to me. I think that it could go pretty well if I'd represent it on a canvas, you know? I was thinking of using water colours to really have drippy paint going on."

The coast disappeared when the sea drowned the sun
And I knew no words to share with anyone
The boundaries of language I quietly cursed
And all the different names for the same thing

To be struck down

Chiron backed up from the bed the second the coughing rattled the room. Hermes put Luke down in his stroller and raced over to her side.

May was laying on her back, hair spread out around her like a veil.

"May, oh gods, are you okay?" Hermes asked running his hand over her forehead. She smiled weakly for a moment. She winced and then choked. He backed up and Chiron observed her. He looked worried, but the old centaur was shaking his head no.

"Where's the baby?" She asked breathless.

"Luke's right here," Hermes said.

"I need the baby, please, please just give him to me," she moaned.

Hermes glanced at Chiron.

"May, can you see us?"

"I only see darkness," she said. "I can't see anything. I thought that the lights... Oh my gods, have I gone blind?"

"I don't think so," Chiron said. "Please May, if you'd care to look harder... There should be something else."

"Like what?" May asked.

"Just keep looking," Chiron said. Hermes put a hand on her shoulder.

"Chiron knows what he's doing, love."

May nodded and stayed very still, eyebrows furrowed and breathing irregular.

And then she screamed.

"May," Hermes said grabbing her hand.

"Where's Luke?" She said, her voice nearly broken to sobs. "Is Luke alright? Is my baby alright? One of you tell me right now that he's alright!"

"It is, I'm afraid, what I think it is," Chiron supplied as the only information when Hermes turned to shoot him a questioning look. "I think that you should take a seat Lord Hermes."

To give up the ghost

"I can dry," Hermes said putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't need to," May said. "It's not as if I'll need dishes anytime soon, right? I mean, there's plenty left for just one person."

Hermes' blood froze. She was in one of her small windows of conscience and awareness. She knew that she lived in a big house on her own. She knew that Luke was gone. Did she know that it'd been a full year? That part he wasn't sure about.

Windows always meant more than one thing. May was back. Maybe she could do on her own now.

"I'm not even hungry," she said shaking her head. "I'm not even…"

Tears welled up in her arms and Hermes dragged her in his arms, hugging her as the crying started.

It didn't really matter what windows were open. They may as well be bolted shut, sealed for good. That was what his grip on May was like at the moment, and how it'd be for as long as he'd need her.

To be fading away

"Cookie?" May asked. "I made them for Luke but I doubt he'd eat a whole batch to himself, even if he is a growing boy."

"No thank you May," Hermes said.

"It's like you never eat anymore. What are you, on a diet?" She said poking his stomach. She threw her head back and laughed, which was part of that peculiarly painful group of moments. The moments in which she looked like May had always looked and acted like May had always looked and joked the way May has always joked.

"That's why there are so many leftovers," May said softly, nearly to herself. "It's because you're the one not eating."

"May," he said getting up.

"Luke's still eating his share," May said. "Luke's still here. He comes at the supper table even if I have to call him twice because he's playing video games and- and-"

"May…"

"Isn't he?" She hissed. "After all, I mean, he's a healthy boy. Why would he leave? Eh? Why would he leave? I even made his favourite today."

On one's last leg

The beanie babies were all lined up on the couch. Hermes hadn't seen them move in years, not since Luke had left. It seemed fitting that now that he was gone for good, they moved again.

"Movie night," May announced beaming her crooked smile. "I made popcorn to go with the cookies. I hope they'll all like it."

O-kay, don't say something rash, think this through. She knew that Luke wasn't there, but now she was talking to the beanies as if they were real, as if they'd want to eat, as if they had any interest in the movie. She was replacing him. She was scrambling. She was trying to scrape together something that she –that they- couldn't have any more, now more than ever.

Hermes took a deep breath.

"I'm sure I'll enjoy the movie, whatever it is. Did you pick it yet?"

"Yes, but you have to guess before I put it in.

To have one's foot in the grave

Hermes walked into the house and it smelled strongly of… paint. Spray paint in particular. He hadn't smelled that in a long time –not here anyways.

"May," he called. He put George and Martha down by the door. "I'm home, May. Where are you?"

"Upstairs," a weak and fragile voice said. Hermes frowned and held out his hand for the caduceus to come zooming back before he ran up the stairs. More than that, May was in the attic. He'd put it under key when she'd first started spiraling, just because it was so high up and it had windows...

He popped into the upper floor and was taken aback by the quality of the work. An entire mural had been done in virtually hours –it had only been hours since he'd checked on her. He'd had to leave for the Winter Solstice. It had been a long time since she'd touched her brushes and acrylics and whatnot, so this was refreshing in a way but devastating in another. The mural was all fire and smoke, shards of glass, twisted pipes… He was pretty sure that even his memory couldn't furnish that accurate of a portrayal of the Battle of Manhattan, pre-Typhon damage.

"May," he said.

"You didn't tell me about this." She said. She was sitting on the floor, looking at her painting with wide and concentrated eyes.

"No, you're right. I didn't. I didn't think you'd have to know." Hermes said, trying to sound apologetic.

"I found out," she said touching the mural.

"I know now."

She slowly got to her feet and put her fingers on some broken cement.

"This is earth," she said. Grey paint stained her fingers. Her hand glided up. "This is Olympus." She touched the ground again. "There's a boy who fell and died here." Her hand touched the farthest part of Olympus, where the throne room was. "But mine died here."

She dropped to her knees and hugged herself, not making a sound but shaking like a leaf.

That's when he knew that he'd lost her for good.

Not long for this world

May coughed. "I heard a joke."

"From who?" Hermes asked. She didn't answer. "Okay, never mind."

"What do you do when…" She had a horrible coughing fit. Her eyes swirled with green, but the effect was weak. It didn't last long. In a matter of nanoseconds it was gone, not powerful enough to manifest itself or release, but still eating away at her. Finally the couching stopped and she lowered her hands. "Sorry dear. What do you do when you're driving, and suddenly you see a spaceman?"

"I don't know. What?"

"Park your car already!" She said. Hermes laughed.

"That's bad."

"Your favourite kind," she said reaching out to touch his hand- which was what she always did after telling a joke. Her hand was shaking too badly, she couldn't do it.

Hermes reached out and squeezed her hand. "That they are. Remind me to tell that one to my brother, alright?"

To die with your boots on

She was shivering all day, but she was walking around. She wanted to go outside, so he helped her put her shoes on and they took a stroll around the park although she did a lot of leaning on him. She mentioned briefly what Native American tribe had camped at the park's current location centuries ago. Then she mentioned how little over two decades ago she'd been pushing a stroller around the park.

As she talked, her breath wheezed.

"I think you should sit down May," he said. His stomach was acting up, twisting like a worm.

"I'm alright," she said.

"May, I think you should sit down, love." Hermes said.

"No, I really am fine. I just, I have to get home, we don't have time to…"

"Okay, well I'm feeling really tired will you sit down for me?" Hermes asked.

"Make your own way home in that case, but Luke…"

Her legs buckled out from underneath her and Hermes caught her

To join the great majority

To go the way of all flesh

To go west

To ride the pale horse

To shuffle off this mortal coil

To take a last bow

To join the choir invisible

To up and die

[...]

There are different names for the same things
There are different names for the same things...