Dein herz in meiner hand (Solo)
It was slow today; the line on the monitor looked more like an ocean than a mountain range. One of those times where Martin was on the edge, and she could feel herself there with him. She was Death herself, but sometimes natural matters couldn't be tampered with in supernatural ways. Many had tried and many had failed.
Sabine ran her hand over her brother's cool forehead, being careful not to rouse him, despite how much she longed to talk to him. His oily hair stuck to his skin, and she'd grown used to the rank stench of the hospital room. In life, she would have thought it smelled like death. Every conversation felt like their last; every night, more died to keep him alive. Sabine had no remorse, but she knew that between the increasing death toll and the two vampire souls she now had in her possession, the Slayer and those who would stand with her were looking to put an end to her tenure as the Reaper. Let them try. Reliable folklore of Death was few and far between, and they would never think to strike close to her heart in a way that involved no weapon.
At the same time, she knew this arrangement couldn't last forever, or even the remaining 97 years she needed. Martin wouldn't want to share in her cursed existence; their parents were long-gone, his friends had left him for dead, and even if he were to survive he wouldn't be able to continue on with his life as he had before. There would be no law school or long, lucrative career in his future. No, there was one way this would end-- the matter was of when it would happen, and Sabine wasn't ready yet, perhaps out of selfish self-preservation. What would become of her? Who would guide her soul out? There had to be a reason the previous Reaper had selected her to continue their work-- yet what if they were mistaken? Perhaps they chose wrong. She was supposed to be living as a monk or a nun with their vow of poverty; she was supposed to shed all of her earthly connections; she was supposed to free herself of Sabine. But the boy she was looking at wasn't just another soul that needed to be put at rest, and even though her existence counted on her severing the bond between them before he died, she wasn't sure she was capable.
Sabine didn't care for Gregor, but he was the most valuable asset she had-- the only man capable of giving her brother the care he needed while keeping the secret of how he had managed to survive this long with a terminal illness. He reveled in it being attributed to him, and Sabine was content to watch from the shadows, so long as their tenuous relationship continued.
Doubt plagued her at every turn. Doubt that she was doing the right thing by keeping Martin's soul inside of him, doubt that she should attempt to sever their bond and stop caring, doubt that Gregor wouldn't try to double-cross her if it suited him.
Sabine held her hand out and called her scythe to expose itself. The blade looked like it had been immaculately cleaned; it revealed as much as a knife that had just been used as a murder weapon and wiped spotless-- cleaner than it should have been. It told a story with what was missing.
If her soul wasn't already hell-bound, what she was considering-- not for the first time-- would certainly do the trick should she carry through with it. The blade's curved shadow hung over Martin's body. Sabine was adept with it. All it would take was a quick swipe, and it would be over for both of them.
But when she looked at him, really looked at him and remembered, the window of opportunity disappeared. They were both damned because of her. Just like everybody else. The scythe vanished as quickly as it had been called upon, and instead of a finishing blow, she gave him a kiss on the cheek before she felt she could go.
As Sabine left the room, she could hear the heart monitor jump to life.
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