Hermione W. Cullen presents…

The End of Time

A Sandman fanfic

"Brother. Dream. I stand in my gallery. I hold your sigil. Come talk to me." Death of the Endless was frustrated. It was unusual for her to inconvenience her brother by calling him to her home; she preferred to simply show up. She couldn't handle the extra trip today, however. Though she ended millions of lives every minute with a puzzling neutrality, though she had seen every thing at every time in every aspect, this was a rare and troubling experience for her: Death was having a meltdown.

"Dream, I need you. Morpheus. This is not a test. Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream…"

"What is it, sister?"

"Dream! Oh, thank goodness…" Death ran to her younger brother and, for the first time that millennium, wrapped her arms around his thin waist. Stiffly, he returned the hug. She could almost feel his ribs through the soft fabric of his cloak, and he smelled of cinnamon, passion fruit and hope.

"Sister, is something the matter?" Dream asked her hesitantly.

"I can't stop thinking about it…" Death whispered, withdrawing from the hug and sinking into one of the seven mismatched armchairs that adorned her gallery.

"What is on your mind?" wondered Dream almost to himself, furrowing his eyebrows.

"The end." Death paused momentarily, leaving a silent space in the air where a human may have bit her lip, wetted her mouth, or even caught a lone tear on her cheek.

"You think about the end?" Dream questioned sharply.

"Sure," answered Death, "All the time. For me, it's hard to avoid. To so many creatures, I represent the end of something—their mortal lives. Humans are always discussing the finality of Death, when all I really am is…I dunno…a transition. But for me…I was there for the first thing in existence, and I'll be there for the last. But then…what happens to me?" She paused again and sat silently, her usually chipper posture slouched. When Dream failed to reply, she continued quietly. "I, who am there at the end of all things…what will I find when all things end? Solitude? Oblivion? Or will a whole other universe, a whole other sequence of time and space and love and loss, a whole other forever, open up and wait for me to step in? What's worse—ending with cold, dark finality, or never ending at all?" She stopped then, lips parted as if she wished to speak more, but words had abandoned her.

Death had not been thinking about her left hand, relaxed on the arm of the chair, which was why she was so surprised when she felt Dream's hand cover it. It was a gentle solidarity, a quiet expression of an impossible wish to comfort. Death looked into the holes where her brother's eyes should have been, and she was hurtling through time and space. In the exquisitely glittering stars that occupied his sockets, she saw his lack of answers and drew strength from it.

"All you need do is dream, sister," he told her gently, "and I can be with you beyond the end of time."

A/N: It would be the happiest day of my life when I could do Neil Gaiman's characters justice. Hasn't happened yet. Still…leave me happy reviews anyway?