Death looked down at the tiny human that laid sleeping beside the little fire and counted their deep, rhythmic breathing. 1, 2, 3… inhale, exhale, repeat... On and on until his thoughts drifted. He thought about saving his brother War; he thought about what he had done up until this point and the obstacles that still lay in his way. Then he meandered into thinking about his little human companion.

They were a fragile species, humans. So easy to kill and destroy that he was little more than surprised they had lasted as long as they had. He was also not surprised because humans were said to have been created to be smart, not strong. They adapted to their environment and even possessed the ability to control and predict aspects of it. They invented ways of communicating over the span of a globe and have landed on their moon, even going so far as to create technology that allows them to live in the vacuum of space for a short while. Humans were amazing creatures in their own right, but they were delicate still: Death's human companion was delicate.

This troubled him greatly.

If ever I am not here, who will protect them? Death wondered, Surely they will not survive on their own for very long, not without a guardian. So many places for them to get stranded and be stuck to starve to death in the freezing nights. Even worse, there's all manner of strange beasts that would love to have them as a light lunch. He frowned gravely behind his mask at the thought of them being left alone, lost and possibly terrified. It bothered him more that it would be because he wasn't there.

The thought of him losing his new friend tugged at his heart and he realized then that he cared. It was unusual that he would feel this way for someone who wasn't his family, but he knew it to be true.

He thought of why it might be so, and it could be a result of how this human treated him:

This human was not scared of him, but they also did not go out of their way to test him either. They knew he was dangerous and they respected that. Although, that still was not why Death cared for them so.

Could it be because they laughed at his jokes and even shared a similar sense of humor themselves? Or possibly because they shared his beliefs that things must be done whether they like it or not, or they valued family above all else, just like him? Possibly. Might it also be that this small human, this tiny, little thing that couldn't even defend itself against the smallest of Hell's dregs, cared for Death's well-being, even over its own on occasion? This is also a possible contributor.

In Death's eons of living, never has he encountered someone so willing to be there for him like this human was. Never has anyone bothered to ask him his opinion on things, much less how he was feeling; as if another being were actually interested in what Death had to think or feel. Someone who was willing to be around him, the very scary and deadly final horseman of the apocalypse, without being forced to was something unheard of. After all, who is friend to Death?

This human is.

This human willingly puts themselves around Death and is interested in who he is and what he has to say. They laugh at his jokes and share stories with him, even going so far as to embarrass themselves to cheer him up for the sake of cheering him up, nothing else. They have no ulterior motives and are honest with him when he asks for it. Death doesn't know why this is so, but he knows this creature is a friend to him, and a good one too. They care about him and he would be lying if he said he didn't care about them too.

Death continued to gaze down at the human lying beside the fire. There was only one thing he could call them now.

My friend.