AN: After seeing COE and crying my eyes out like a little girl – and being a huger fan of 'Sandman' – more specifically, the character Death, this story just popped onto my laptop. I also redid John Frobisher's death, thought his end in COE was WAY TOO wimpy. When there is no way out, always try to take a couple of them with you…Enjoy!

Death's Memoirs: A Televised Confession

I waited within the shadows of the overly bright, happy house. Thank the Great One they could see me…yet. I was feeling a bit peaky and snatched a banana off the kitchen counter – far too much work today. I hate my busy days.

Looking out the large windows to the front of the house, I saw the television news reporters – carrion birds of the digital/video age if you ask me – gathering on the front lawn like so many dogs around a fire plug.

The elected official, John Frobisher, drove his car up the drive and exiting upon exiting it, strode through the reporters like Moses parting the Red Sea…he was fun to pick up…but my, that one did have a temper with that staff and all…oops, digressing here.

'I will come out shortly to give you all a statement,' he said in a detached manner as he walked up the steps and into his sunlight foyer for the last time. He strode over to his children, his two beautiful daughters. I could hear his thoughts as though they were my own…Bastard Prime Minister. He WILL NOT TOUCH my children. He WILL NOT DESTROY MY WIFE. I won't let those…THINGS do to my children what they did to those poor orphans…

He sent both girls up to his eldest daughter's room. He kissed his wife – and at that moment I knew all he wanted was to take her to their bedroom and make the tenderest of love to her before…why is it when your kind reach the end of their lives they are so desperate for that form of physical contact?

He asked her to join the girls and went back to the front room, where from his valise he removed a metal box: Article 31. My back tensed and my black painted nails tapped noiselessly on the granite kitchen countertop. Aimlessly, I wondered…would anyone else live in this house after all of this? I guess I'll find out eventually. I silently watched as he fastened his courage to the sticking place and loaded the automatic weapon with shaking hands. I moved to him and steadied his hands.

'Thank you,' he breathed. He still could not see me…but he could feel the little comfort I gave him. He then walked up the stairs to his oldest daughter's room. I followed…because I had to…

Three shots rang out…and then I stopped him from killing himself. 'One more thing you need to do,' I whispered in his ear. 'A bit of revenge, if you will. For a new friend of mine.' John Frobisher looked at me…and this time he saw me. He nodded and adjusted his tie as I cleaned off the blood droplets that spattered on his face. 'Time to set things right, John.' He nodded again and went down the steps. My new friend appeared next to me.

'Shall I take them now?' he asked in a beautiful low timber.

'No…not yet. Daddy hasn't too long now. A few moments,' I answered. 'Let's see the show.'

John Frobisher stood before the reporters, gun tucked into his belt in his back, its metal still hot from its most recent use. Its' almost burning sensation gave him comfort as he addressed the reporters.

'I will make a brief statement, and then I will be leaving you with my family. There will be no questions after, so please a bit of quiet so that I may be heard.' Immediately the crowd went silent…with a little coercion from me and my new friend. Years from now they will always talk about the feelings of someone walking over their graves or chills going down their spines. That last one wasn't my idea…my new apprentice really had a wicked streak in him.

'I just wanted to apologize for all that is happening. It was our fault, you see. We gave the creatures, the 456, the reason to come back. In 1965, we gave them 12 children in exchange for information on how to cure an influenza epidemic that would have wiped out 25 million people. They thought 12 orphans for 25 million, not a bad trade, yeah? But they are back…these inoculations are not real. It is a lie. They use our children like…a cocaine hit. They stop their growth so they can feed off the endorphins children between the ages of three to eleven produce. The numbers the children chanted all over the world…the 456 want your children…ten percent of the children in the world. Or else, they will kill us all, as they did yesterday in Thames House. The Prime Minister at first told me my family was safe…and then he rescinded that promise. So I took matters into my own hands. They are forever safe,' he said, brandishing the automatic weapon that had since cooled. The reporters gathered gave a collected gasp and spectators towards the back cried out.

'They say that revenge is a dish best served cold,' he said, putting the gun to his chin. 'I prefer to dish it out piping hot,' he then pulled the trigger. As he fell, his damaged brain registered us walking towards him. He ignored me; he knew who I was…it was my apprentice he recognized.

'You,' he slurred. The bullet damaged his clef pallet and one eye as it exited through his brain plate. 'You're…thead,' he managed.

'Yes,' my apprentice conceded. 'And now…so are you,' he said, giving him his hand. Ianto Jones then pulled John Frobisher's soul out of his decimated body and pulled towards the house. 'Time to collect the wife and kids,' he said kindly to John. A mobile went off in John's jacket pocket. I sighed, waving Ianto and John on as I made myself visible to all present and, collecting the mobile, pressed Answer once I read the ID screen and smiled broadly.

'Hello Prime Minister,' I said, couldn't wipe the smile off my face. 'No, John can't come to the phone right. Actually, he won't be going near a phone anytime soon. Who am I? Well, I'm a friend…the last friend everyone sees. Whoa…no need for such language, Sir. Sorry, but I've really got to run. Lots to do, little time to do it in. But don't worry…I'll be seeing you…real soon.'

I then vanished from their sight, dropping the mobile on the ruin that was once John Frobisher. Further down the block was another suicide…had to collect that one while Ianto took care of several elderly people that died of acute heart attacks after watching Frobisher's suicide on national television. Today was going to be a seriously busy day. Ianto then appeared by my side as we vanished on the wind…we really needed to be in London…riot police were being killed left, right and center as mobs rushed 10 Downing Street.

'I wonder if they put in another "safe room" there?' Ianto mused next to me. 'They're really going to need it.'

~~TWTWTW~~

We watched as Jack teleported away onto the cold fusion ship ready to take him anywhere but Earth. I collected Steven…he helps getting children for me. For such a young man, he truly has an ancient soul. I always ask both of my apprentices if they'd like to try again, just to say the word and I'd help them through the process.

'Waiting for Mum,' Steven would say every time.

'Waiting for Jack,' Ianto would reply. I have promised Ianto that he could collect Jack on his own…it makes him smile. But in the interim: another earthquake in Turkey, 25,000 dead. Four child leukemia patients in Leeds. And a number of some ones have set fire to the former PM's house while he was under house arrest. Gotta do that one personally…I promised after all.

So…who am I? I have many Names…but my favorite is Death. Gotta go…lots of people to see, lots of things to do. But don't worry…eventually I'll see you.

FINIS