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nualaofthefaerie · 8 days

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Holding Hands

Pairing: Death of the Endless x Wanda

Content: SFW

Type: hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, a little bit of both

Content warnings: death (what a surprise)

Author's note: I wrote this in haste. I was entirely possessed by the concept so I rushed to write. Death x Wanda are my top wlw ship and I hope you all will see my vision.

It felt rather numb.

Wanda had always imagined death to be painful - stabbing through one’s soul, tearing at it, then gnawing it until there was nothing left. Life had certainly made her believe so. And death was supposed to be far worse.

In life she had to forge a path for herself, by herself. No one really gave her another choice and she certainly was not going to give those she left behind the satisfaction of complaining. Although she probably should have done so. If she had shouted, if she had resisted, created a mess, they would have had no other choice but to acknowledge her existence.

“Ts.” Her tongue clicked as she hovered over her aunt, crying through gritted teeth. “As if you ever cared.”

It was utterly grotesque to watch all of these people who had decided to burn their bridges with her, now mourn over her grave.

“That’s not even my grave!” she threw her hands in the air. “Alvin Mann is who you assholes are grieving!”

“I do not think they can hear you.”’

Wanda had indeed imagined death to be painful. But she was beautiful. She had a warm smile on her face and an awfully every day New Yorker look about her. The weather was nothing less but suffocatingly hot, yet Death wasn’t even sweating in her leather ensemble.

“I know you, yet I am sure we’ve never met.” Wanda’s brows gathered at the tips.

“We have.” Death laughed. “We have met so many times, Wanda. You are a rather reckless one.”

Wanda retreated back into the green fields away from her own funeral. No, Alvin’s funeral.

“Well, I do not remember you then.”

“Of course.” The tiny wrinkles around Death’s eyes raised and Wanda’s heart, although now certainly dead, skipped a beat. For all that had changed throughout the years the one thing that never truly did was Wanda’s affinity for falling in love with women out of her league. She’d reckon Death was at the top of that list. “Back at the Marquee a few years ago, in that bathroom-“

Wanda’s heart sank. She remembered the night at the Marquee well. Barbie had left for a few days and without her constant supervision, the anxiety had gotten the better of her and Wanda had fallen into old habits, habits she wasn’t particularly proud of.

“They said I was supposed to be dead then, you know.” Wanda sat down in the grass.

“You were.” Death nodded, sitting next to her. “I was supposed to take you away that night.”

“Do you do that for all of us? Take us away?”

“Well, I am a notoriously hard worker.” Death laughed, pulling out a pair of Ray Ban sunnies. “But yes, I try to be there for all of you. If I cannot, I have a small, but diligent group of helpers and subsets of my existence that will take care of any abnormalities…” she stopped mid sentence, turned her head to one side and laughed again. “Except a few special abnormalities. The universe can become a bit boring if we are all to constantly play by the rules, which is why I took you to the hospital instead of taking you with me. You were not completely gone then, so I was presented a choice and I took it.”

“Why?” Wanda interrupted her.

“Why not?” Death’s chin rose to the skies, satisfied with her vague answer.

“I died anyways.” Wanda shrugged.

“We will all die anyway.”

“Even you?”

“Well…I think so, yes.” Death’s booth dug into the dirt, but she kept looking at Wanda. The dead girl

“And who will take you?”

“You are a very nosy one, do you know that?”

Wanda tried picking up a flower but her fingers slipped through it like wind.

“Ha. Yeah, I do actually. At least Barbie always said that I ask too many questions.” Wanda then grew quiet, looking over the splash of black across the green field. Barbie was nowhere to be seen. Did she even know Wanda had died? Had anyone told the only person who was going to mourn Wanda as opposed to whoever’s body was in that damn coffin, she had died? The sun didn’t feel so warm anymore. “You know I always thought death would be painful.”

“Well, I do try to be gentle with you all. Frankly, I’m not even the scariest one of us all.”

“Us?”

“Not of importance.” Wanda nodded distractedly. She was still thinking about Barbie. “It is not so bad. I have seen deaths with a lot less…turnout.”

Wanda shook her head.

“It’s empty to me.”

“You should not leave this world filled with resentment.” Death’s smile dropped. “It’s not good for you.”

Wanda’s blood boiled at the thought. Her head turned sharply to the beautiful, but cruel Death.

“And how else am I supposed to leave? How else are we supposed to leave? I don’t owe them my forgiveness. They are not even here for me! They finally get to mourn the man they wanted but never got! I bet some of them are even glad I’m dead! They won’t have to give anyone awkward pauses anymore after someone asks them ‘And how is Alvin?’.” her jaw clenched. “And it is not only me! There are thousands, millions of people probably who feel the same as I do – abandoned, lonely, ostracised for nothing more than being ourselves. Yet, I am the one who should bestow them my forgiveness?!”

Death’s silence was deafening. She turned her gaze upon the crowd gathered around the Catholic priest whose voice raised above the hills. Quiet hiccups and sharp whispers carried through the winds all the way to Death’s ears. Her sigh sent a chill through the spine of every living creature.

“You are right.” She said at the end with all the seriousness in the world. “They do not deserve your forgiveness. But if your soul is not restful, I cannot take you.”

“Then don’t.”

“That is worse.” Death grabbed her hand. It was warm. Especially for a ghost. “Listen to me. You need to. Not for them. For you.”

“I can’t.” Wanda whispered. “I can’t just leave and let them win.”

Death kept her rules simple. She was not to get attached by any means to anyone, ever. Morpheus’ romantic frivolities were fascinating to watch, no doubt, but they were nothing she could afford. She was the eldest. She held it together so Destiny could remember. Simple. It was simple. That is how an eternity of existence had passed. Death worked alone. It was not her job to fix humanity, it was her job to observe, to learn and take. Enough cheaters existed already.

“You have to.” She whispered back. “I do not wish for you to feel pain.”

Enough cheaters, indeed. Yet, Death found herself holding Wanda’s hand tightly, her eyes firmly set on Wanda’s that shone in a dashing hazel colour. If she had a heart, the woman’s conviction and will would have certainly made it skip a beat. But she didn’t. Death was self aware enough to recognize attraction. She had very rarely felt it herself, but it was not as if she could ever act upon it. ‘Fucking a ghost is like a therapist fucking their client.’ She thought to herself. Still, her ether was moved.

‘There are enough exceptions. Enough cheaters.’ She was reminding herself like a mantra, hoping it would return her own unwavering principles. It did not. It only made her hold onto the dead woman even tighter (if that was even possible).

Then Wanda jumped, pulling up Death with her.

“Barbie!” Emerging from the pit of black clad mortals, was a woman, holding onto the arm of a man Wanda recognized in an instant. “The Mister!” she shouted, looking at Death. “I know this man.”

“I am sure you do.” Death nodded.

“No. I know him. I worked for him when I died.”

“I know.” Death sighed at the sight of her brother.

Morpheus, gallantly dressed as ever, was accompanying Barbie to the Wanda’s grave. His head turned towards the hill only once. He nodded, silently, as he usually did, then turned and re-engaged in a conversation with Barbie.

“I didn’t know they were acquaintances.”

“They are not. Barbie knows him as much as you know me.”

“Who is he really?”

“My stupid idiot of a brother.” Death turned her head to one side again. Wanda couldn’t tell if she did that when she was curious or agitated.

“So he can see us then?”

“Oh, yes. Even if he doesn’t want to.”

“And Barbie?” she asked, filled with hope, quickly shattered by Death’s gentle shake. “I understand.” The words forced themselves past her lips.

A shout interrupted the solemn conversation. Her aunt was shouting at Barbie, who wore the most outraged look on her face.

“You will not besmirch Alvin’s name with your lies!”

“Her name was Wanda.” Barbie’s shout far surpassed anything Wanda’s aunt could muster. She could always outshout anyone, Wanda smiled remembering all the times she had found that trait annoying. Now it felt more than welcomed. “She was a kind, understanding woman, who had all her life in front of her. She only ever did that stupid job because of you!”

“Now,you-“ the old woman raised her hand, prepared to strike Barbie for all her disobedience, but it never landed.

“I would advise against such displays of unnecessary violence.”

Death’s brother, that weird tall and lanky mister, sounded menacing. Wanda swore he did not sound like that mere days ago. The aunt let go without further fuss. The coffin was slid into the ground, covered with dirt and that was it. The crowd dispersed with no excitement, only exacerbated sighs and puffy from crying eyes.

Wanda could not help but roll her own. Death chuckled, then offered her hand once more.

“Come on. I will re-introduce you to him.”

Wanda took it, no questions asked. She thought she would take it dead or alive. Oh, how much she wished she could tell Barbie about this beautiful woman; the young divorcee would certainly find the story amusing.

“Brother!” Death led Wanda by the hand back down the hill and into the crowd.

“Sister.” His response was far calmer than the excited shout of Death and her waving. “Excuse me, miss Barbara.”

“Of course.” Barbie nodded in both directions, sniffling quietly under her nose.

“Wanda?” Death placed her other hand on her shoulder, but Wanda did not move. She watched as Barbie rubbed her tears away violently, smudging her intricate makeup; fell to her knees, while her white stocking rolled in the dirt; pulled out Wanda’s favourite lipstick – a decade old Mac in bright, bright pink, and with all the love in the world dragged it across Alvin Mann’s name, writing “Wanda” instead. Nothing more, just Wanda.

“I love you.” Barbie’s jaw was clenched, but she continued talking. “You were the closest I had ever had to a soulmate. I still think Ruby might have been a better name, but you loved Wanda too much. So, Wanda, don’t you dare leave me, you hear me?! In spirit, as a ghost, whatever. Don’t leave before I leave.” Barbie got up, dusted herself off and without saying goodbye, left.

Wanda couldn’t bear to look after her, but she did feel anger rise in her.

“I deserve my goodbye.” She turned her head to the Endless.

“You get what everyone gets, dear.” Death smiled quietly. “Nobody ever gets to settle all of their affairs.”

“I am not talking to you.” The curls on Wanda’s head bounced as she turned to the King of Dreaming. “You. I am dead because of you.”

Death barely contained the delightful laugh about to escape her. How full of surprises can a ghost be?

“One does not fare well exploiting me.” Death’s brother looked down upon her. For a moment Wanda felt fear, then remembered she is already dead and there was nothing more that could happen to her anyways. So she put her hands on her hips, looked up and with a silent pout demanded. He looked sternly over his sister. “Will you intervene, sister?”

“No.” Death trailed unsure. She felt herself tapping in waters unknown even to her. “I do not think I will, actually.”

The man sighed.

“Your punishment of me is wholly unnecessary.”

“I am not punishing you, Dream.” Death put her hands in her pockets, intrigued to see where the conversation went.

“Hey. I am still here. Here’s what – you let me say my goodbyes with whatever magic is it you have, and I don’t blame you for the rest of eternity.” Wanda held her own. She imagined the stronger she appeared the easier it was going to be convincing the man of her wishes. “All I want, Dream, is to say goodbye.” She bawled her hands in fists, but still refused to look away.

‘I will not die out quietly. I will not.’ Wanda repeated to herself, time and time again.

“Perhaps, I can offer you a different solution.” Dream began with composure. Death knew what he was about to do. He had the habit of picking up strays and she watched them all grow utterly devoted to him, each in their own way, but they were a loyal, close knitted group. She imagined Wanda amongst them. She didn’t like that thought. Her ether was pricked, she felt it as it twisted and turned in a knot.

For the first time in a long, long, long time Death felt the universe come out of its axis, as realisations she had hoped to never think of in their entirety clouded her judgement.

“He can offer you a goodbye, but that would be followed by servitude. I…” what was she doing? “I can offer you something better. You don’t want to go yet, do you?”

“Not if it can be helped.”

“It can be. I need…assistance moving souls from one place to another; delivering some messages of fright and finding missing souls.” She did not look at her brother in that moment, but Death certainly felt his almost mocking gaze upon her. ‘He will never let me live this down.’

“Alright.” Wanda nodded with no hesitation, grabbing onto Death’s hand.

“It is not a job for kind people.”

“I think I will fit the role of a mean ghost quite well.” Wanda rushed to lock their arms, giddy. Frankly, she thought Barbie would understand the desire to follow Death into…well, death, but more importantly she wouldn’t have to say goodbye to Barbie quite yet. She could spent her time with the most beautiful, kind woman to exist and love her from afar, even possibly from up close, while waiting for her soulmate.

“I think so too.” Death whispered.

“Very well, then. Where do we begin?”

“I need to bid my brother farewell.”

“Of course.” She unwrapped herself from Death, pointing at the hill. “I will wait for you there, okay?”

“Yeah.” Death nodded.

Wanda ran, while Death remained, her nightly shadow behind her.

“Do not say anything.”

“I do find it especially amusing considering your strict convictions.”

“Morpheus?”

“Sister.”

“Zip it.”

Morpheus offered a coy smile.

“It is a refreshing moment, indeed.”

“Do you feel vindicated?”

“Very much so. Enjoy the misery of these humane feelings you love talking about so much, big sister. You will quickly find out, they do leave scars.” He finished on a sour note.

“Okay, okay. Don’t you have better things to do?”

“Perhaps.”

“Then go.” Death pulled his ear. “Get out of here.”

“Will you not ask me how she died?”

“No. I do not wish to know. I do not wish to be part of this concoction that is you and Delirium. It is too much. Even for me.”

“Very well, then. Good day sister.”

And just like that, he was gone, leaving behind only the ghost of Wanda, who was smiling and waving as if she had been offered a whole new life.

“Come on!”

Death smiled and waved back.

She was perhaps allowed to cheat herself once in a while.

AN: I hope you enjoyed that. I am unsure whether I would do this again, probably not simply because I do wish to keep my blog exclusively about Nuala, however @orionsangel86 offered me kindness in the last week that I am eternally grateful for. So this is my present for them.

#death #death of the endless #death appreciation week #the sandman comic #the sandman #the sandman fic #death fic #wanda #wanda the sandman #death x wanda #sandman angst #sandman fluff #sandman wlw #wlw #wlw fic

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