Hospital Reaper

"Don't let me die, Doc," desperately whispers the beaten, bloody, scared, brown-haired teenage male motorcycle victim in the hospital bed.

The good doctor momentarily freezes before answering behind nearly equally desperate eyes, "I promise you, I'll do everything I can."

I've lost count of how long I've been in this hospital and watching this exchange. I know the doctor freezes out of fear that his experience has taught him those who give such a plea seem to know they don't have much time left and are generally right, but he also isn't about to give up. I watch them, waiting, as I always do and realize this is something different. For one so young, he's a fighter. I've taken fighters before; it's always a careful, consoling exchange, but come they do. They know they must. Yet, him, he is absolutely determined. He may have a sixth sense, per se, that he is close to death, but he hasn't given up. His spirit hasn't left his body and I don't think he's going to let it; for once, truly, his life is in his hands. He may come with me, most will; but, him, him I think he wants to stay. So I wait. I have the time.

People always think death works quickly. In fact, it's the opposite. We may make death quick from time to time, but it's interesting. For one, death isn't just one big guy with a scythe and black cloak, you know; and, he has quite a taste for pizza and games. Second, reapers, though often, aren't always old. With flowing, wavy blonde hair, a heart shaped face, blue eyes, and lithe body, I'm one of the few who appear quite young. Technically, we are without emotion, but for me, at least, that doesn't mean the job is always easy. What was it Death had once told Dean? It's awfully heavy, isn't it? Sometimes, you just want to take the damn thing off. Yes, I didn't understand his patience with the Winchesters, but I wasn't going to complain about it either, particularly when it's Tessa, not me, who ever deals with them. No, my job is my hospital here, which they haven't managed to grace with their presence.

By the head of this boy's bed, I wait to see what this uniquely strong young man will choose. To my surprise, he manages to go against his instinct and fights to stay, and stay he does. I watch him a moment before moving on. People. Though angels and reapers tend to be on non-speaking terms, Gabriel and Castiel defended them defiantly and its times like these I think I can understand why. They're unique, strong, and a small handful of them have a strength that lets them know what and when something's worth fighting for. But, this was never a real job. Perhaps, I knew that from the start and it's time I get going; people aren't the only ones who can procrastinate…nor are they the only ones who can get in trouble for it.

As I come to my next, final, and very real job of the ever long day, I try to hold on to that strength of the young man for this. A little girl with red curls and shadowed green eyes looks first at her doctor, "I'm not doing so well, am I?"

The doctor swallows, but keeps her gaze, "You've done very well, Tracie."

Her father, starting to panic, looks at the doctor, but before either can say anything Tracie turns to him, perfectly calm, "Daddy, it's ok. The doctor's done his very best, and you've given me everything and I know you're strong. It helps me, and now I couldn't ask for anything more. I love you."

I should take her now. It's late and this is hard for everyone, but maybe, just maybe…my clipboard starts to shake, a warning, and I see her name 3) Tracie Sax,11-leukemia. I look back at the trio. Tracie is ready, I can tell, and the two adults are perhaps as prepared as they could be. I shouldn't draw this out any longer. Ever so gently, I place my hand on the girl's shoulders and see her appear next to me. They say reapers don't have emotion, or they shouldn't, but if I could cry, there'd be tears in my eyes now as I turn her away from the reaction of that never changing, unmistakable sound of a flat lined monitor.

I feel the girl look at me, and draw upon earlier strength and professionalism to face her; if anyone deserves decent answers to their questions it's her. But, for the second time today I'm surprised at what she has to voice with a smile, of all things, "You're very pretty."

I could only look at her; that's not something I normally hear. After a moment, I allow myself a smile and mention, "I'm Gina. Are you ready? If you have any questions…?" Normally, I don't like to prompt them, but I wanted to make sure this little girl was satisfied.

She shook her head, "No. I felt so comforted, almost like my mother was with me and I've been given so much. I knew you were waiting, and you seem like you know I'm right and that things will be alright," she finally looked back once at her father, maybe without a smile, but still calmly.

I nodded and granted her, "You know, the doctor was right. You have done very well. I think you'll see your mother very soon if you come with me."

With one last look, Tracie smiled, "Of course."

Of course, I pondered later. Though it was 1 in the morning, I never really got a break. I knew there would be an elderly woman soon to pass in her sleep from kidney failure. And by the amount of names ahead and a hunch from experience and too many "slow, quiet" days, no matter how hard, there was a disaster about to slam this hospital and the doctors wouldn't be able to save all. Yet, one little girl, saw beauty and strength in not just herself, not just others, but her too, and I realized reapers may have a dreary job to do, as Death said, but Gabriel and Castiel were right: there is something worth fighting for these people. Unlike them, it wasn't within my power to save them, but I'd just been given a good reminder that that didn't mean I couldn't be there for them. After all, despite what some may some or have you believe and kept secret, you only had to look at them to know: life isn't the end.

AN: Ok, so not quite sure what this is...almost made it into an original story, but I suppose I'm liking Supernatural and it's take, while wanting to put a slightly maybe different, compassionate tone. But, I just sat down and wrote and this came out, so don't know what that means, but being considerate, feel free to let me know what you think. Of course, don't own, though the general idea of Death and reapers are Supernatural's, Gina is my own creation.