A/N: Definitely had the German Death in mind for this one… he's more impish than the Death from the Hungarian version… but I think it works okay for either.

The little boy's voice, high and clear, interrupts him. "Why are you sad?"

Death looks quickly over his shoulder - his first thought is that there must be somebody behind him - but he soon realizes that the boy is addressing him, that the boy can see him and, even more incredible, has concluded that he is sad.

He frowns and sits up a little, hugging his knees. It's a position that might have unnerved an adult spectator, given that he was doing it high up on the wall rather than on the floor. "I'm not sad - I'm never sad."

The boy just watches. "You look sad. Do you want me to sing to you?"

Death wonders if this is what people mean when they say they feel touched. He smiles a little but carefully doesn't laugh, because he knows the boy would be offended. "No... thank you."

"Oh. Because I was thinking of how you sing or tell me stories sometimes... and I don't know any stories except for ones you already told me, so..."

"I thank you, but I'm not sad. I'm just..." He cocks his head. The boy is probably too young to know frustrated or rejected or powerless or scorned. "I miss your mother," he explained at last. "Because I call for her, but she doesn't want to come."

"She doesn't come to me, either." Rudolf climbs up on the bed, kicking his feet against it idly. "You said she never will."

"That's right, little boy - she'll never come to you." Death's smile has grown wolfish but he doesn't notice it; he's gleeful now, spreading his knees so he can reach between them to drum on the wall. "But me, she's coming to me. Eventually she'll come, she will, everyone comes to me sometime!"

By the end he's banging savagely, and Rudolf just watches with wide solemn eyes. "I'll come to you now, if you like," he offers right away. "Would that make you feel better?"

Death cocks his head; he can't remember ever being asked such a question before. He takes refuge in the obvious: "You will come sometime," he agrees. He rises, walks down the wall to the floor, and goes to crouch by Rudolf's bed. "It may make you feel better. Sometimes that's how it works."

When he holds out his hand, Rudolf takes it without hesitation. "Well, when you call me, I'll come," he promises, then waits expectantly.

Death sighs, smiles. He leans close and rubs his forehead against the child's. Their faces are so near, their lips almost touching...

But he pulls back - tonight is not the night. "And when you call me, I'll come, too," he promises back. He glances to the bed.

Rudolf obeys the unspoken order and crawls under the covers. "Will you kiss me goodnight?" he asks innocently.

Death pinches out the candle, smiling. "Not today."

The End.

It's my first Elisabeth story! Pretty please, review it! Lurking is mean, especially in small fandoms.

Also: I don't know why, but every time I watch Mate Kamaras as Death, I'm reminded of Peter Pan. Is that weird?