Fic: Death and the Demon
Title: Death and the Demon
Author/Artist: megkips
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Gilbert, Death (The Sandman)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: Gilbert meets up with Death and catches up.
Notes: This is a crossover with Neil Gaiman's The Sandman in which Death is a perky goth and a total sweetheart.
“Hey D,” Gilbert said, staring down from his perch. He had nestled himself in a particularly tall oak tree, waiting for his next pick up.
Death looked up at the demon in the tree and laughed. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re not a bird, Gilbert?”
“‘Course!” Gilbert shouted down. “But Gilbird is!” He indicated the yellow ball of feathers perched on top of his head. Gilbird chirped in agreement and puffed her chest out.
“She’s as bad as you are,” Death remarked, still smiling. “You on duty?”
“Ugh, when aren’t I?” Gilbert said. “Hang on, lemme come down. Yelling like this is totally unawesome.”
Gilbert straightened up from the branch he was sitting on and leapt down in one fell swoop, landing neatly on his feet. Gilbird followed after him, fluttering down and taking her usual place on his shoulder. “There, way more awesome. Where you on your way to?”
Death shrugged and leaned over to pat Gilbird on the head. “Here and there. Don’t worry, I’m not here for your pick up.” The little yellow bird trilled happily, relishing the attention.
“You sure?” Gilbert asked, brushing a few stray stands of hair away from his horns. “We were in a deadlock for a few hours over this one, I wasn’t sure if I was gonna have to--”
“He’s yours,” Death said. “I’m here for his friend.”
“Oh, well then,” Gilbert shrugged. “My watch says four more minutes.”
“Three, by my count.”
Gilbird chirped loudly again.
“Bird says three,” Gilbert said. “So, I guess you lovely ladies win.”
Death shook her head. “Keep trying, Pruflas. It won’t happen.”
“He-ey!” Gilbert said, putting on his best pout. “No one gets to call me that anymore, not even you!”
Death ruffled Gilbert’s hair playfully, then began to walk towards an intersection. No one along the crowded streets of Rome noticed her presence, nor did they notice Gilbert’s as he trailed after her. “Oi, slow down!” he yelled, trying to catch up with her. Death froze in her path long enough for Gilbert to drag himself back to speed, then continued at his pace.
“How’s family, then?” Gilbert asked. “The kid doing all right?”
“Dream?” Death asked. “He’s settled into things well enough. I’m surprised you don’t ask him yourself.”
“Pft, like he lets demons near his realm,” Gilbert snorted, his tail flicking behind him. “Or at least near the positive aspects.”
“Nightmares again, is it?”
“A little, yeah,” Gilbert muttered. “Happens every few decades. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve been taking longer shifts,” Death said. “I can try and hint at him about it.”
Gilbert kicked at the ground a little. “Thanks.”
Death nodded. “How’s your brother then?”
“Dumas?” Gilbert brightened considerably. “Awesome, as always. Got him relieved of the tempting job Roderich gave him - it was too intense, so he’s trying to figure out what to do now.”
“I’m sure it’ll be something that will make him and yourself both very proud.”
“Me too. Also, meant to ask. I’ve got a pick up in a few days that I’m expecting to end badly. I’m afraid he’s gonna be a runner.”
“Who is it?” Death asked, her eyes focused no longer on Gilbert, but on the road traffic.
“The Jones psycho,” Gilbert said, not following her gaze at all. “85% chance and rising.”
“Oh, him,” Death said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Just be quicker than he is.”
Gilbert nodded. “We just don’t want him to become a ghost is all.”
“Fair concern and--ah.” Death didn’t look away when the ungodly sound of metal against metal filled the air.
Gilbert finally looked where Death was staring and sighed. It was an average traffic accident - two young men on motor scooters had slammed into a delivery truck. There was at least one missing limb, and the speed had killed the two riders of the scooter on impact.
Neither Death nor Gilbert said anything as they waded through the halted traffic. Gilbert stepped gingerly over the wreckage (not that it would make a difference, as he had no corporal form at the moment) and crouched down. The soul he was there for sat on the ground, dazed and confused.
“See you, Gilbert!” Death called from the other side of the debris.
Gilbert gave her a mock salute , watching her disappear off with whatever other bastard had been good enough to avoid the pits. He then turned to his own charge and smiled.
“Death?” the young man finally managed to spit out.
The demon laughed. “Oh, don’t you wish, boy.”
FIN.
NOTES:
--This is a Sandman crossover. Death has many aspects and others that do the same job as her. Gilbert actually shows her a modicum of respect because she is infinitely older than he is and no one wants to be the guy to piss Death off.
Author/Artist: megkips
Character(s) or Pairing(s): Gilbert, Death (The Sandman)
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: None
Summary: Gilbert meets up with Death and catches up.
Notes: This is a crossover with Neil Gaiman's The Sandman in which Death is a perky goth and a total sweetheart.
“Hey D,” Gilbert said, staring down from his perch. He had nestled himself in a particularly tall oak tree, waiting for his next pick up.
Death looked up at the demon in the tree and laughed. “Did anyone ever tell you you’re not a bird, Gilbert?”
“‘Course!” Gilbert shouted down. “But Gilbird is!” He indicated the yellow ball of feathers perched on top of his head. Gilbird chirped in agreement and puffed her chest out.
“She’s as bad as you are,” Death remarked, still smiling. “You on duty?”
“Ugh, when aren’t I?” Gilbert said. “Hang on, lemme come down. Yelling like this is totally unawesome.”
Gilbert straightened up from the branch he was sitting on and leapt down in one fell swoop, landing neatly on his feet. Gilbird followed after him, fluttering down and taking her usual place on his shoulder. “There, way more awesome. Where you on your way to?”
Death shrugged and leaned over to pat Gilbird on the head. “Here and there. Don’t worry, I’m not here for your pick up.” The little yellow bird trilled happily, relishing the attention.
“You sure?” Gilbert asked, brushing a few stray stands of hair away from his horns. “We were in a deadlock for a few hours over this one, I wasn’t sure if I was gonna have to--”
“He’s yours,” Death said. “I’m here for his friend.”
“Oh, well then,” Gilbert shrugged. “My watch says four more minutes.”
“Three, by my count.”
Gilbird chirped loudly again.
“Bird says three,” Gilbert said. “So, I guess you lovely ladies win.”
Death shook her head. “Keep trying, Pruflas. It won’t happen.”
“He-ey!” Gilbert said, putting on his best pout. “No one gets to call me that anymore, not even you!”
Death ruffled Gilbert’s hair playfully, then began to walk towards an intersection. No one along the crowded streets of Rome noticed her presence, nor did they notice Gilbert’s as he trailed after her. “Oi, slow down!” he yelled, trying to catch up with her. Death froze in her path long enough for Gilbert to drag himself back to speed, then continued at his pace.
“How’s family, then?” Gilbert asked. “The kid doing all right?”
“Dream?” Death asked. “He’s settled into things well enough. I’m surprised you don’t ask him yourself.”
“Pft, like he lets demons near his realm,” Gilbert snorted, his tail flicking behind him. “Or at least near the positive aspects.”
“Nightmares again, is it?”
“A little, yeah,” Gilbert muttered. “Happens every few decades. Don’t worry about it.”
“I’ve noticed you’ve been taking longer shifts,” Death said. “I can try and hint at him about it.”
Gilbert kicked at the ground a little. “Thanks.”
Death nodded. “How’s your brother then?”
“Dumas?” Gilbert brightened considerably. “Awesome, as always. Got him relieved of the tempting job Roderich gave him - it was too intense, so he’s trying to figure out what to do now.”
“I’m sure it’ll be something that will make him and yourself both very proud.”
“Me too. Also, meant to ask. I’ve got a pick up in a few days that I’m expecting to end badly. I’m afraid he’s gonna be a runner.”
“Who is it?” Death asked, her eyes focused no longer on Gilbert, but on the road traffic.
“The Jones psycho,” Gilbert said, not following her gaze at all. “85% chance and rising.”
“Oh, him,” Death said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. “Just be quicker than he is.”
Gilbert nodded. “We just don’t want him to become a ghost is all.”
“Fair concern and--ah.” Death didn’t look away when the ungodly sound of metal against metal filled the air.
Gilbert finally looked where Death was staring and sighed. It was an average traffic accident - two young men on motor scooters had slammed into a delivery truck. There was at least one missing limb, and the speed had killed the two riders of the scooter on impact.
Neither Death nor Gilbert said anything as they waded through the halted traffic. Gilbert stepped gingerly over the wreckage (not that it would make a difference, as he had no corporal form at the moment) and crouched down. The soul he was there for sat on the ground, dazed and confused.
“See you, Gilbert!” Death called from the other side of the debris.
Gilbert gave her a mock salute , watching her disappear off with whatever other bastard had been good enough to avoid the pits. He then turned to his own charge and smiled.
“Death?” the young man finally managed to spit out.
The demon laughed. “Oh, don’t you wish, boy.”
FIN.
NOTES:
--This is a Sandman crossover. Death has many aspects and others that do the same job as her. Gilbert actually shows her a modicum of respect because she is infinitely older than he is and no one wants to be the guy to piss Death off.