A/N: Easing back into writing once again. Hello fanfic, I've missed you.

I have watched the end of the world nearly take place many times.

I remember the most recent one very clearly. A Cage was opened and an angelic demon slithered out, extending his tendrils across the world, ready to lay waste to it.

To those living through it, the Apocalypse truly was upon them. But those who are so short-sighted do not realize the true insignificance of that moment in time, nothing more than a blink through the Universe's eyes. A single being from Hell could never end this world. Evil forces from near and far have tried for ages, with ice and fire and cheap tricks. Sometimes they get close. But Mother Nature knows how to maintain the balance. The losses are swept aside and the universe continues on its path.

I do not stop to consider the losses as often as I used to. They have simply become…less, as the ages pass. I have dulled myself to them, so much so that I had nearly forgotten. The prices to be paid are not always lives. Sometimes the losses are not enough to kill, but leave the living maimed.

This boy is maimed. With old eyes and an old soul, he is scarred. I cannot see much, but I can see flashes in his eyes as he gazes upon me, waiting for my answer to his plea. I see Hell, that foolish trifle of a realm, and the blemishes it laid upon his soul. I see loneliness, and fear, and guilt. I see the brother fall and the man left to pick up what little pieces remained.

I see losses abound, following him all his life, ordained by the silly powers above who love to dance with the Fates. I see people come into his life only to leave it, forcing him to mend his shields and begin again and again. It is one man's life. One man's losses.

I feel the vestiges of what used to be my pity, my sadness. What a cruel hand dealt to one small human.

He waits too long as I ponder. I can feel the agitation course through him, coupled with his fear and desperation. I have not decided what to do, but I suppose I will not leave him lingering.

"You put him above yourself." It is not a question, but an absolute truth.

"Yes, I do."

"You would do anything for him?"

"Yes." Not a moment of hesitation. Curious.

"Why?"

He opens his mouth and then stops, as if catching himself tumbling over his feet, his words. "He's…he's always been just…he is so much more than I could ever hope to be. He deserves so much more than what this world's given him, so I gotta give everything I have for him."

"And so you put his needs above your own."

He does not reply. It goes without saying.

I tilt my head and stare down at the figure in his arms. So cold, so little left of him, but he holds on by a mere thread. For the moment, he is.

"He is dying."

The man shudders imperceptibly, and looks down, eyes shining once again. He returns his gaze to me. "Yes."

The reapers begin to gather, as though this admission has allowed them to approach. I stop their forward march with a flick of my eyes. They will not act until my meeting is finished.

"So. What do you say? Can you do something?"

I let the silence linger as I contemplate. He continues.

"Please, can you…I…please. He's all the family I have."

I feel something close to pain from deep within. Family, a word I have tried to abandon for centuries.

"Family."

"My brother. I don't have anyone else…please. He's…he's it. He's everything. I can't…not without him, I just can't."

"Family hurts. They wound and they scar. And eventually they leave."

He nods, but my words seem only to spur him on his cause. "You're right. They do. But they also heal. They apologize and they forgive. And sometimes they even come back."

"Mine did not." I speak too much, of things he should not hear, but he takes it in anyway.

"I'm…I'm sorry. But please. I can't do this without him. If you can help, please. I'll give you anything if you can."

"There is nothing you have that I would want."

He looks down, unsure of how to approach. I feel as though he would offer his battered soul if he knew I would take it.

He looks so lost.

Well, then. It would appear that even a being as old as myself remembers the action of empathy, the feeling of pity.

There is no one to judge me if I do act. But why should I? They are insignificant. They could both be wiped off the face of this earth in an instant and the earth would continue along its path. Some events may change, some people may live or die who may not have otherwise, but the Universe would remain whole.

So why does it matter. Why do I want to hear their stories so much, when they could be told from a thousand others today? Perhaps my leave from humanity has made me curious as to their actions once again. Perhaps it has to do with the bond these two brothers share, how rare it is.

Perhaps it is the blaze emanating from the human's eyes, straight from his soul out to me.

They don't show this part of themselves. Humans don't open up enough like this. The exposure is too much. It makes them too fragile.

And yet, for his brother, he is willing to bare his old but precious soul and to put his life and his brother's life in my arms.

I thought I had seen everything, and could no longer be surprised. I suppose every few millennia or so, I can be proven wrong.

I will stay on this course with them. I will see if they are truly worth saving. I will see if I can indeed be moved by the tales of two small children on this earth.