Disclaimer: I don't own them. Never have, never will. Please don't sue.
Warnings: Death. Shonen-ai. And weird… really weird.
The Fourth Horseman
Have you always been there?
Waiting in the shadow of my shadow?
Why do I see you now?
Too late to act
Too late to live
My heart should be heavy
But with you before me
I cannot find the sorrow
Any longer
I know why you are here
I feel the coldness
In my bones
So take me
Beautiful Stranger
One who loves you
Is not long for living.
It was long ago when I first saw you. Every soldier does, at some point. You were beautiful even then, when I could see the bones through your skin. You stayed with me, with us really. You fought alongside us throughout the first war and the second.
I worried about you, though I would never have admitted it before. You were always so thin and bony. I had nightmares about that, your face turning to a grinning skull in my dreams. But sensing somehow my fears, you told me, "Even Famine can't kill Death." You walked away laughing, but there was a fire in your eyes that made me believe you.
And you did not die. Working with us, fighting with us, there were so many opportunities for something to go wrong. But for you, Death never came. I was always glad about that.
I kept expecting you to leave again, to disappear as suddenly as you came. But you stayed with us, with me, a black shadow in my own shadow. I was close to death, you said, so you couldn't leave.
You stayed with us, our little fighting band, throughout the first war. You fought with such ferocity, we didn't believe you were real. Maybe you weren't, even then. How you killed, it was more like War than Death, great patches of destruction, and burning flame. But more beautiful you were, in my mind, than long-antiquated War.
After the first war, I was sure I would never see you again. Perhaps I was coming closer to the truth then than I had in a long time. But when the second war started, you came back, like you'd never left.
When we were cornered, you fought like a mad thing. You ought to have died. After all, the rest of us did. But nothing can kill Death, can it? You were so fond of reminding us of that. I suppose it does not seem like such a blessing now.
I see you now, as you truly are, great and terrible, full of beauty beyond measure. And yet, in this moment you look the most human as I have ever seen you, crying above my body, raging at the universe.
I smile. I know you can see it, though I lie stiff and cold on the unforgiving earth. I still love you, in death. I've always loved you, even before I met you. That, perhaps was the problem. One who loves you is not long for living.
END
(A/N: I know it's morbid, but it just came to me like this- uh, not a very good excuse. The poem at the top is the culprit, you know. I wrote it and then I was like, "Boy, this'd make a good Gundam Wing fic!" so there you have it. The title refers to the fourth horseman of the apocalypse- Death. Or Shinigami, if you prefer. Anyway, that's enough. Please feedback! - - frinkled stardust)