Rare

Window into my Pratchett-inspired fanfiction one-shot, 'Rare'.

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Reid's life ended on the floor of Hankel's shack.

How strange it was, that single moment of falling. Like missing a step in the dark; the sensation of tipping forward into air where there should be solid ground. The same gut-dropping feeling of fuck, except without any of the upwards panic to go with it. Instead, his body relaxed, the pain drained away, and he thought this might be freedom.

Distantly, he thought but my team? and the relaxing feeling of freedom faded to be replaced by panic.

Bony fingers around his wrist slowed his tumble into the nothing void.

I can't die, he cried to his saviour. They'll blame themselves!

WHAT WILL YOU DO IF YOU LIVE? asked the someone. WHY ARE YOU MORE WORTHY OF LIFE THAN OTHERS WHO HAVE ASKED?

I'm not, Reid thought, opening his eyes. But I have to try.

The someone smiled.

BACK YOU GO, it said, pushing him up down towards the pain and the fear. He went, gladly. WE'LL MEET AGAIN.

Reid would never remember meeting Death, but Death never forgot him.