The Reaper's Name is Kindness

6. For Further Consideration

The waiting room's clock ticked once every second, the little click of its gears marking the time that was passing in the empty room. Why did the other psychopomps think it necessary to make them sit in a conjured waiting room? Dove couldn't say for sure, maybe they created the room out of habit. Maybe it was an attempt to wrangle the young psychopomp sitting next to Dove on the only other chair in the room. If it was an attempt at containment then Dove was feared the worst from the story the others had received from Feather. They weren't a bad kid, right? They were just in need of a little more guidance, or maybe a little more freedom.

They wouldn't actually choose to keep the kid under review right? Of course not, Dove had gotten to know 1-8 a little before being whisked away to the waiting room. They were going to see that 1-8 was perfect psychopomp material and finally give them some solo assignments.

Dove couldn't help but look over at the other psychopomp though. Their own thoughts on the matter had been quite clear but since they had been herded into the waiting room, 1-8 hadn't said a word beyond a few small complaints.

"How are you doing over there? Are you feeling nervous? Scared maybe?" 1-8 seemed to snap back from whatever internal palace they had been exploring, Dove's words bringing them back to the boring beige reality of the place between. The younger reaper seemed to raise an eyebrow, their feeling shifting to match their new confused inquisitiveness.

"I'm not scared, the worst they could do is make me rejoin the Living Universe, and from what I hear that's not really much of a punishment. But nervous? A little. I was looking forward to striking out on my own and finally being able to do my job without someone breathing down my neck. Why do you ask? Are you nervous?" Dove had learned very quickly in their interactions with 1-8 that they loved to answer questions and they loved to make their answers longer than what seemed necessary. When probed about it they had said they were just being thorough. Not leaving anything up to misinterpretation, they said.

"I'm not nervous, no. As I had said, I think that they'll see you're a perfect fit for this job and that Feather is being an uptight bone sack." They weren't lying, they weren't nervous, and their feeling confirmed it for 1-8.

"Well I hope you're right, I don't think I could handle any more of the same things being drilled into my head. I've actually been mumbling all the stuff they train us with while we've been waiting. If I slept then it would probably start appearing in my dreams too." The kid could talk, whether that was a strength or a deficit Dove did not know. At least they knew how to fill dead air without sounding awkward. That must have been a boon when they were human.

The clock continued tocking as 1-8 finally went silent, leaving only the fuzzing hollow sound of the Between. Dove was left alone with their thoughts which were few and shallow. They couldn't remember if their mind had always been this way or if had been something they'd picked up after dying. If the habit of filling empty silence with mindless yet entertaining chatter was a habit from 1-8's days as a living breathing human, then maybe human Dove had been just as blatantly minded in life as they were in semi-death. Dove didn't know if 1-8's fondness for chatter was a carried trait though and they absolutely doubted the younger psychopomp's ability to recall if it had been something from their life. They were fresh off the erasure so maybe they could still recall some things if they really tried. Some psychopomps after recruitment could still recall faint memories after all, so remembering something as simple as a talking habit shouldn't be too hard right?

"1-8, tell me, can you remember anything from your life? Anything at all." Dove turned toward their counterpart, shifting their chair and scooting it around on its hind legs so that they faced the empty eyes of 1-8. 1-8's head jerked to the side in turn, their empty eyes falling on Dove while their feeling shifted back toward confusion.