Don't know where this idea came from, but here it is!

Disclaimer- I own nothing. Simple as that.

Charlie lay in his hospital bed, breathing with the help of a breathing tube. Nurses and doctors checked his progress with grim eyes. His wife always came and sat next to him, always. She always had a smile on her face, even though he could see the pain in her eyes. He always told her that he was alright and not to worry. He could tell that she didn't believe him, but he had to tell her something, didn't he? His children came too, after their classes and sports clubs, wowing him with tales of dazzling grades and heroics on the fields of lacrosse and football. He smiled at them, so proud of his son and daughter.

It was deep in winter when he saw the strange girl walking the hospital floor. She was dressed very nicely, blue and black skirt with a black blouse. Her hair was black and she wore small earrings. She was there at all hours, not just visiting hours. She wasn't always on his floor, she disappeared for weeks at a time. Sometimes he saw her outside the hospital, looking up. The strangest thing was that no-body else seemed to see her. She could walk right by doctors and nurses without causing a fuss. He supposed it was because she was so quiet.

His cancer got worse. He didn't need anyone to tell him that. He could see it in his wife's eyes, hear it in his children's voices, feel it in his gut. He started to get horrid headaches, the likes of which could only be killed with a shot of morphine. He couldn't eat anymore, talking was a strain. The doctors did all they could, but at the end of the day, their eyes were still grim.

Then one day, he saw that mysterious girl throwing a punkish boy out of the hospital and yelling at him on the side-walk. The boy was wearing all black, with skull engraved belt and piercings covering his ears. He also had a tattoo of the ace symbol on his neck. Tattoos were better than calling cards, he always said. He said that if his children wanted to get tattoos, better get 'em in a place that no-one could see 'em. The boy smirked and left. The girl was red in the face. He didn't think that she would have been capable of yelling at any-one. It strange, however. None of the walkers in and out of the hospital had looked twice at the boy and girl screaming at each other in the front of the doors.

The doctors came into his room then and he submitted to the now ritual tests and such. They wouldn't tell anyone any different. The doctors left and the girl came in after they left.

"Didn't they see you?" he asked, his voice sounding strange with the breathing tube.

"No." she said quietly. "They are unable to."

"Why?" he asked, as she sat in a chair beside him.

"They are too full of life." she replied. That puzzled him.

"What do you mean?" he demanded, feeling suddenly apprehensive.

"You are able to see me because you are close to Death." she said, almost hesitantly.

"Death?" he whispered.

"Yes. I have come to your passing easier."

"I am to die?"

"What's with all the questions?" she laughed. "Sorry, a pathetic attempt to lighten the mood."

He chuckled once. She sighed. "I am Daughter Death." she said, looking down at her folded hands. "I make the passing easy and painless for those whose time has come."

He sighed. "I knew it. That cancer got me at last, didn't it." he tried a smile, but it wouldn't come.

"It's not your fault." she was quick to assure. "You fought it as long you could. But your body just can't hold up to your spirit anymore. You remind me of cowboys and horses for some reason."

"Grew up in the west." he replied, his green eyes looking at the ceiling. "Actually grew up on a ranch. Dad always taught me well, schoolin' first, then chores. Got my law degree in New York. Met Margaret. Got married. Founded a law firm. Now, I've got a house in the suburbs with a swimmin' pool. You should see my Dad's eyes light up when he visits. He can hardly believe his son did so well. Heck, neither can his son!"

Daughter Death smiled. "I knew you reminded me of the Old West, with all it's adventures and wild times."

"You were there?"

"No...but I've read a lot of novels and I hear my Grandfather's stories."

"He was there, then?"

"Yes! He was there, with all the greats and the Alamo and all that!"

"Grandfather Death?"

"No! Grandfather Time."

"Figures. Good fictional family, huh?"

"Yes, Grandfather Time, Mother Earth, Grandmother Sky, Father Sun."

"Who was that punkish kid you tossed out?"

For the first time, her eyes clouded and her brow wrinkled. "Brother Death." she said and obviously she hated him with all of her heart.

"Brother Death?"

"My twin brother. As much as I am gentle and kind, he is violent and cruel. He is behind the child that falls into the street in front of a car. He is the attack in the heart. I wish that it were only me, but there have always been two sides of Death."

"I see." he said, still not looking directly at her.

"Please don't be afraid." she said, standing up. "I will not harm you." She kissed him gently on the forehead and then turned away. "Farewell, Charles Fogarty. You shall truly be blest."

Something I came up with while walking my dog. No idea why...Still, enjoy!!