"I never thought Death's house would look like this," Tristan commented, lightly tapping a finger on the outside of the fishbowl. The goldfish inside didn't respond.

Death flopped down in an old, green armchair. She put her arms behind her head. "Well, this is the way I like it. It's been a while since I redecorated."

Tristan took his attention away from Death's fish and looked back at her. "I always expected there to be bats...or something like that."

"I can make bats, if you want," she answered nonchalantly.

Tristan looked uncertain. "That's okay."

He walked past a stack of record albums to a picture hanging on the wall. Death was sitting in the middle of a bunch of strange-looking people. A girl with wild orange, pink, and blue hair. A man dressed in a long grey robe, which covered his eyes. Some sort of short, fat midget-woman. Tristan stared. A couple of them looked familiar, but he couldn't place them. "Who are these people?"

Death stood up and walked over. "Oh, that's my family." She began to point to each of them, as if introducing them. "Despair. Desire. Destiny. Delirium. Dream." Her hand drooped a bit as she seemed to remember something. "There's another brother. Destruction. But I haven't seen him in I don't know how long. It's been at least three centuries." She bit her lip a little and went back over to sit down. Right before reaching the beat-up chair again, she turned back around. "Would you like cocoa?"

He wasn't sure what to say. "Uh...yeah."

Death smiled again and walked over to a small kitchen on the right. "I don't get many guests, so I have plenty," she said as she put a pot of water to boil.

Tristan looked back at her, almost afraid to ask what he knew he should. "Do you miss your brother?"

She grinned almost as if it was a silly question. "Yes...I miss him. But I keep busy enough so that it doesn't bother me too much."

Giving a sigh, Tristan sat down on love seat in the middle of the room. "Yeah, well, at least you're not an only child."

Death poured the hot water into two black mugs and added the cocoa powder. Tristan could hear the clink-clink of a spoon mixing the two together. "You want marshmallow?" she called.

"Yeah."

Death came in, carrying the two mugs. She handed one to him. Tristan just looked into the brown water and watched the white fluff in the middle begin to melt.

She took a sip of hers. "So, what's it gonna be?"

"I'm not sure I want to go back. You know a lot about me, don't you?"

Death nodded. "I know a lot of things about your life, including why you might not want to go on."

"It's Dad...."

She nodded again. "I know."

"It wouldn't be so bad if there was someone else. I don't have any brothers or sisters, and I'm afraid to tell Mom. If I told anyone at school, I know they'd put me in a foster home or something." Tristan finally drank some of his drink. He didn't seem to enjoy it. "I love Dad, but I'm not sure I want to go on like that anymore."

"What about your mother?"

"I love Mom, too. I don't want to leave her behind, but I think that may be what I have to do."

"Maybe."

Tristan tugged at his hair lightly and thought about that cage of flesh and bone lying in the hospital, his mother stroking his still hand. "I'm tired of hiding from him. I don't want to be scared anymore...."

Death put her hand on his. "Whatever you decide, you have to be sure that it's right."

The boy sniffled a bit and turned his face away, trying to hide the hot tears invading his eyes.

"People can change, you know. It doesn't always have to be like this. All you have to do is tell someone what's going on. Even saying something to your father would help. It can get better, I promise. I've seen cases like this before. You dad really does want to change. All you have to do is help him...." Death looked upon the boy sympathetically and rubbed his hair lightly. "Could you do that?"

"Yeah, I guess." He looked up at her, the tears receding. "Can I stay with you?"

"What?" Genuine shock came over Death's face.

"Stay with you. Can I? You could be my sister."

She shook her head. "I'm sorry, but that's impossible. Even if you could stay here, I'd still have to perform my function. You wouldn't be able to see me much."

"Oh..." Tristan wiped his nose with a sleeve. "That's what I thought you'd say." He paused, suddenly embarassed. "Did...did you mean it when you said that things could get better? They could change?"

She smiled suddenly. "Yes, I meant it. All things can change. Things change or die. It's a fact. I should know."

"I guess you would." Tristan finished his cocoa.

Death stood up, leaving her cup on the coffee table. Tristan followed her without knowing why. Death suddenly held a pair of scissors. "It's time to make the decision. It can't be dragged on any further." She reached behind him and pulled back a silver thread which Tristan hadn't noticed before. "I can simply cut this, and you'll stay in the sunless lands." She opened and closed the scissors, as if demonstrating the action. "Or you could follow it back to your body."

He looked at the silver strand between Death's fingers. It was startlingly thin, as if the slightest jar could break it. Was his hold on life really that tenuous? Tristan took the string from her white hands. She understood his decision. As he left the room, silently gathering the cord of life in his hands, he heard Death's friendly voice call once more to him:

"See you later."

Copyright Diana Marsh, 2000 (Death and all Sandman characters are the creations of Neil Gaiman and Mike Dringenberg and trademarks of DC Comics and Vertigo. This is a labor of love, and no money is being made off of it. Yadda, yadda, yadda...)