Kratos x Reader

Fifty

The air felt as hot as the fires of Nifelhei itself. Breathing it in was as pleasant as having sand in your lungs.

The pain was making your body shake. It was fear and pain equally.

"Wake up.", a deep voice demanded. "Healer. Wake up."

This voice. It sounded so familiar. But the way it talked was harsh, almost hateful. Over and over again it demanded you to awake, ripped through the darkness like a light at night.

You did not want to go into the direction of this voice.

You remembered his it had talked to you like this. It had been hurtful, hard to bare with. You wanted it to call your name. Just like back at the hidden room of Tyr.

It had been so calm, so full of love and gentleness. It had filled your heart with joy and something even worse.

Hope. Hope for something you could never have.

Suddenly, the memories hit you.

Atreus.

"A-Atreus...", his name tasted bitter on your tongue.

Almost like poison. Like something that could be the end of you.

For a moment, the voice fell silent. It felt heavy, this silence. Almost crushing.

"He's gone.", the words were silent, not as loud and powerful as before.

Suddenly, you ripped your eyes open.

Light returned, flowing your view like an ocean. The colours were dull and almost depressing, as you managed to see again.

"W-what?", tears filled your eyes. "No- no it can't be!"

"(Y/N).", Kratos grabbed you by the shoulders.

He was gentle, almost too gentle and pressed you back to the ground.

The way he was looking at you told you that he wasn't happy to see you. Even if his face was calm, his eyes told a different story.

He was hurt. More than he had ever imagined.

And he was blaming you.

"Kratos...", you tried to raise your hand to his face but couldn't. "The boy... Atreus, he is..?"

Without a word, he turned around and grabbed something. With only the highest of caution, he turned around again, holding something in his arms.

He was trembling, his eyes were lowered as he lay the boy next to you.

Or what had been left of him.

The once pale skin was burned, black and red like the victim of a fire. The boy did not look like a boy anymore, but rather like a sad, cruel version of himself.

Trembling, you stretched your fingers out and stroked through the short remains of his hair. It felt like ashes.

The touch made your hands turn black.

Your lips moved and you wanted to say something. But those words only would have hurt more. Both you and Kratos.

"Thor...", you asked, whispering. "Is he?"

Again, without a word, Kratos turned around and grabbed something. This time, he wasn't as gentle and smashed the thing right in front of you to the ground.

Blood splashed and the sound of something breaking filled your ears, sending shivers down your spine.

With horror in your eyes, you looked at the thing that was laying in front of you, bloody and terrible.

It was Thor's head.

Suddenly, a wave of horror and fear crashed over you. But at the same time this strange sight stirred something else up inside of you as well.

Satisfaction.

If were for you, you would have spit on it. But you couldn't. Your mouth was as dry as a desert.

But still, a soft smile appeared on your face.

"Good.", you mumbled and closed your eyes. "My gift. It- it must be back."

Testing, you curled your fingers and called for the magic that was living within your body.

And indeed.

The familiar feeling of magic ran through your body. It was such a familiar feeling, a feeling that you had missed so dearly, it made you cry.

Holding back the tears, you turned your head and touched the chest if the boy, right where his heart was supposed to be.

With a deep breath, you smiled at Kratos and called your magic to obey.

"Kratos.", your voice was still weak, but filled with will. "It was a pleasure meeting you."

Your words confused him.

"What are you saying, healer?", he frowned.

"I envy you, Kratos. As we traveled together, I realised how soft a man like you can be. And I must admit, I am jealous of the woman that had been able to call you hers.", speaking hurt, but you couldn't stop. "Now, that I am my old self again, I feel even more jealous. Because despite my power, I will never call anybody mine for more than a hundred years. I will never be able to have a child like you. And I will never know what it means to be truly loved."

"(Y/N)."

"No. No, don't say my name like this. It will hurt even more.", you tried to smile. "One last goodbye, Kratos. Please, don't deny me this."

He understood your request without asking for it a second time. Slowly, he leaned forward and lowered himself. But before he placed a kiss onto your lips, he hesitated and eyed you.

"What is the meaning of this?", his warm breath tickled your burned skin.

"This is my end, Kratos. My friend is close, he is standing right in front of me, asking me to go with him. His hand is in reach.", you smiled, looking him in the eyes. "But I wish to repay you before leaving. If I may be honest, after what had happened between you and me, in Tyr's chambers... The jealousy inside of my heart grew bigger. I did not want to return your wife to you. But- but the boy... I wish for him to return. For him to live. On my place."

His eyes widened in surprise.

But he did not decline.

What father would have declined something like this?

The kiss he placed on your lips was soft. Too soft for your liking. But it was sweet. And you took that sweetness into the darkness.

As you closed your eyes, the feeling of magic grew inside. It guided you into the darkness, somewhere far away beyond life and death itself.

"Here you are again, old friend.", death always had a strange voice, something you never would get used to after a thousand times. "What do you wish?"

"A bargain.", you smiled softly, as you spottet the boy at the side of death.

He looked pale, lost even. But he was fine.

"This one?"

"Yes. Him. Atreus is his name."

"A high price for the son of a god and a giant."

"I am the payment. Now hurry. Time is running against us."

"Against you. I am timeless. I am endless. But yes. Here, take him.", death handed the boy over with a soft push, letting him pass you. "Now come. Come, your time is up."

You smiled softly, looking at the boy with heavy eyes.
He returned the gaze, empty and tired.

But he smiled. And as he smiled, he faded.

All he left was a soft feeling inside of your chest. There was no regret, no pain nor sorrow.

You felt light. As light as one could be.

This was a good death.

As good as death could be.