Okay, this is my first fic in about 3 years, so don't be too hard on me.

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. I only wish I did.

A/N: I'm not too sure where I'm going with this yet, or who all it's gonna be about. I'm not much of a fan of any of the girls in Gundam wing, so this is prolly gonna be yaoi.. I'll at least have a bit of 3x4 in here, not sure about any other pairings…

On with the fic!

(x)(x)(x)(x)

AC 4, L2 Colony

Looking around me at everyone who was obviously sick with the Black Creep just made me shiver.

I might be the God of Death, but that doesn't mean I have to like my job.

The Black Creep was a disease that starts at a person's hands, and slowly moves up to the rest of their bodies, gradually turning all the veins and arteries pitch black, and poisoning the blood. After the blood has been fully corrupted, it takes a few more days for the muscles to turn black. The person dies when the Creep gets to their heart.

Every single day spent with the Creep is a day of agony.

There's no cure for it, and there's no vaccine either. The only way to stop the spread is to commit suicide.

Which was why I was here in the first place.

I walked over to a group of four kids, who were all kneeling next to a fifth who had slashed his wrists with a rusty, jagged piece of metal.

"You can't just leave us like this!" one of the kids was yelling. But it was too late.

The fifth kid was standing in front of me, looking terrified. "So you really do go to Hell if you kill yourself..?" he asked.

I can understand why he would think something like that, I'm not exactly the perfect image of forgiveness and all that. Well, if you ignore my wings, then yeah, I guess I could be, but… with a wingspan like mine, there's no ignoring them. I'm only a bit over five feet, I'm a short god, always have been, always will be. But my wings are a whole different story. The black feathers touch the ground and reach over twelve feet. Closer to thirteen, actually. And I don't really look good in white, pastel blue, light green, pink (shudder) or light purple. But I do look good in black, dark reds, dark purples, and maybe a fringe of white. So guess which colors I choose to wear?

"Kid, you're not going to Hell, and you didn't kill yourself," I told him.

"Yes I did," he protested. "I used that piece of pipe there." He pointed to the bit of metal in his body's hand.

"You had the Creep. You were already dead. I don't penalize anyone for lessening that pain." And I don't. I let myself contract the Creep once, just to see what it was like.

"Aren't you the Devil?" the kid asked.

Wow, um no! I'm not! I'm the God of Death! HUGE difference! For example, I exist!

Of course I didn't say that to the kid…

"I'm Shinigami. Not the Devil. Come with me, I'm going to take you to an area to wait for your next life."

"Next life? I thought I was going to a … I don't know, like a heaven or a hell?"

I couldn't help but laugh at that. "I don't know where you mortals got that idea, but no, there is no heaven or hell. Unless you consider your next life to be one of those." And that's true. A person who was particularly mean and possibly evil was given a really tough life for their next one, while someone like this kid, who tried his hardest just to survive and take care of his friends and maybe a sibling was going to be given an easier life when they got done with that one.

I escorted the kid to the waiting area and took off.

(x)(x)(x)(x)

AC 180, L4 Colony

This was going to be hard. The Winner family was full of really nice people, but Mr. and Mrs. Winner had all girls. They really want a boy. He's just… not going to make it. Neither of them will.

I hate collecting the souls of newborns and their mothers.

"Push honey, you're almost done!" That was the dad. They shouldn't have had this last kid. They really shouldn't have…

The mother's soul was standing next to me. Watching.

"I'm dead?" she asked.

"… yeah," I replied sadly.

"Will my son make it?" The doctors were doing everything they could to get the boy out of her dead body, hoping to save him, even if the mother was gone.

"… no." I let a sad sigh escape my lips.

"Why not?!" Mothers usually get angry here, and yell things along the lines of 'I'll do anything you want, just let my baby live' and other such things.

"Because that's how it is."

"I won't accept that reply," she answered. "My son is going to be raised to be a good boy. He'll be a nice, kind, compassionate child! Give him a chance!"

"I've heard that many times before, lady. And you know what usually happens? They turn out to be pricks. They find out that their mothers died in childbirth and they blame themselves and turn off their emotions."

I saw it happen a lot more then I like. I'm a real softy, though. I'll prolly let the boy live, if only just because I don't like taking the lives of children.

"My Quatre will be different," she promised.

I ruffled my wings, just to give myself something to do while I thought over whether or not to let the kid live.

What to do, what to do… OH!

"Okay lady. Here's the deal. I'll let him live-"

"Oh thank you, thank you!!!" she interrupted.

"ON A CONDITION!!" I paused there to let that sink in. "I'll let him live, but he'll always be able to feel emotions. And not just his own, either."

I walked up to the child who wasn't breathing and I touched his cheek softly. As soon as I did he took one huge breath and started screaming his tiny little lungs out, just like babies are supposed to.

"I hope that he does indeed become a good boy, like you say he will. I'm not going to let this strong of a gift stay with a ruthless, mean child. He has fifteen years to prove to me that he deserves this life I've given him. Otherwise I'll take it back."

See? Death isn't always cold and heartless.

(x)(x)(x)(x)