Because I couldn't stop for Death..

"Aren't you a bit too young to be the Grim Reaper?"

She'd heard the question before, and supposed it was a fair enough question considering how often it was asked by those that she visited; and she visited everyone in the end, both commoner and king alike. This one though, this one she had no small amount of affection for considering how very often he'd flirted with her over the years. Her lips curved at the corner in a crooked smile that Ethan found charming and yet so familiar all the same. He'd never seen her, but he knew exactly who she was; a woman he'd danced so many times with and yet had never went beyond brushing with her.

"Aren't you a bit old to be finally answering my calls?" She was just as cheeky as he was, parking herself on the edge of the bed close to his ailing frame. Age had not been kind to him, neither had life if you asked her. If a man's face was truly his autobiography then it might have been classified as a horror novel considering the things that those light colored eyes, once blue and now a cloudy gray, had seen. "Though I suppose your dancing shoes have been retired."

"I think I could find the time to clean and polish them if you're my partner."

"I swear, in another life you were a feral tomcat."

"I still am if you wanna stroke me behind the ears." A shaky smile lined his mouth, seeing her giggle, waving her hand at him as if to tell him to stop. "That's a sound that a man can go out on a final note to, Love."

Death's smile was a lovely, warm thing; after all, hadn't she had all of eternity to now to practice such a thing?

"You're a persistent woman, persistent ought to have a lot to smile about, D."

"Darling, I'm a selfish woman, all I've ever wanted was to have you to myself."

"My Molly wouldn't have liked to have heard that," spoken with just a tad of bitterness to his voice.

"Oh, she's been waiting for quite some time to see you."

Confusion fell upon what had once been a handsome visage when he was young, blue eyed, and iron jawed. Still, far from ugly, with a mind as sharp as a butcher's knife, the confusion was evident. How could a woman as sweet and steadfast as his Molly be waiting for him? Men like him didn't reach the pearly gates, did they? He supposed he could have racked his brain for a sunday school scripture but the truth of the matter had already been decided in his heart. After all, unlike a certain Field Marshal, he really *did* owe god an explanation for all of the men killed in El Alamein.

Death saw his face, and she'd already known his thought before he could speak it.

"The afterlife isn't nearly as black and white as you think it is, My Darling."

"No, I suppose it isn't."

"Few people weigh what a soldier has to do at war against them, Tommy."

"As a man who was a soldier in more than one war, they should."

"Not everyone has an iron spine, Love."

"I didn't either, D. There was plenty of times when I was afraid, when I was shaking in my boots, warmed by my own piss and a slug of scotch."

"And just like you told your son William, that's the only time when a man *can* be brave."

A heavy sigh left him, an arthritic hand wiping at his eyes before briefly gripping the bridge of that off angled nose. "A man wants his sons to be better than him, and their sons to be best of all. I never wanted my sons to have to see if they were brave men."

"Or their sons?" Her smile wasn't a happy one, more of a grim line, something twisted into an expression of apology.

"Is he waiting on me too?"

"He didn't blame you for his death either, Tommy, your stories gave him the courage he needed to get through the night sometimes."

"They also filled his head with silly notions that got him killed."

"Don't you *dare* rob that man of his agency. He did what he thought was right."

"A man shouldn't have to bury his children, much less his grandchildren."

"War changes the natural order of things."

It was silent for a moment. Thomas wasn't crying, he'd never let such an indignity be done in front of a lady, a man had no place for crying in front of one, especially near the end of their final dance together.

"I thought I was dead to that tiger in Burma, you know."

"He was quite surprised when it was him being walked out of that jungle."

"Carry the animals over to the next stage too?"

"They're usually my favorites, they never feel sorry for themselves."

"Most wild things don't."

Now, her smile had shifted into something far more genuine. "I think becoming a literature teacher was your real calling, Tommy. You were much better suited in a classroom than you were in a trench." Her hand upturned, offering him her palm. "If it helps, that's how you'll be more remembered that way, I think."

"I hope so. I wanted to leave the world a better place than I found it." His voice was wheezing but as he took her hand he found the strength to climb out of his bed.

He didn't fail to notice that his body was still under those blankets.

'Oh, I expected it to feel different."

"No, it feels like what it is."

"And what is it, D?"

"It's going home, Love. Now we mustn't tarry on, Molly and Ethan are waiting."

"No, we mustn't tarry."