The Adventures of Erik & Raphael, or: You Were Supposed to be Hit by a Truck

“How are you not dead yet?”

“I honestly have no idea. How do you not know?”

Erik pushed his bangs from his forehead in frustration. As much as he liked his reaper – they had far more tact than some – it became increasingly clearer that Raphael had no idea what they had signed up for.

Raphael threw up his hands. “How should I know?”

“You’re my reaper, it seems like it would be in the job description!”

“They didn’t train me for this!”

“Don’t they give you a manual or something?” Erik asked. “I was supposed to die a month ago.”

Raphael huffed. “This sort of thing doesn’t happen often – matter of fact, it’s never happened before. Also? For a human, you’re awfully nonchalant about the whole dying thing.”

Erik assumed a deadpan expression. “After living with you for these last ten years, I’ve gotten rather used to the idea.”

*

It had happened because Erik fell from a tree.

Raphael was panicking over him because “it’s too early for you: look, my planner says July 2017, please don’t die yet”. But the then 17-year-old was only suffering from a concussion and lived to see another day.

However, it had had an unusual side effect: he could now commune with the supernatural. Erik thought he was hallucinating about the seven-foot flaming skeleton in dark robes fretting over dates and times above him. He was patently wrong, of course.

When he realized that, the screaming lasted an impressive six full minutes before he choked on his own spit, sending Raphael into another anxiety attack.

And that was how they met.

*

Old Grim – “That’s what we call the boss,” Raph told him – assigns reapers to newborns in order to conserve his energy for the more urgent projects.

“It doesn’t even oversee its own duties?” Erik asked incredulously.

“It’s not like Death can’t,” Raphael explained. “It just won’t.”

Erik frowned, disapproving. It seemed that his disapproval showed on his face, because Raphael went on:

“Could you do it?”

“What?”

“Could you live with not one person, but everyone that was and ever will be – knowing their names, faces, what they love and what they hate – could you watch them die knowing that you can’t change anything?”

Raphael then left Erik to brood; they wanted something sweet to chew on.

*

From then on, the two struck up a quick and mostly congenial relationship, in which Erik would plunge fearlessly into situations that would send Raphael into heart palpitations (if they had had a heart).

This leads us to the present situation:

“Okay, let’s take it from the top.” If they went through his death sentence step by step, Erik reasoned, they would find the blip that stopped it from happening. Raphael nodded.

“I wake up and do my morning routine,” Erik began.

“Yes.”

“I go to work, as per usual.”

“Yes,” Raphael confirmed, consulting their notes.

“Then I get hit by a truck.”

“That is correct.”

“But I didn’t get hit by a truck,” Erik finished.

The pair mused over this before Raphael started pacing.

“Why didn’t the truck hit you? I made sure you were in its path.”

Erik rolled his eyes. “I feel so loved right now.”

Raphael rounded on their charge. “You know what I mean!”

“I know, I know,” Erik raised his hands in surrender, “Things were supposed to happen, and they didn’t. Why is that?”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. This doesn’t happen,” Raphael mumbled.

“We’ve established that,” Erik said helpfully.

Raphael abruptly stopped mid-step. “I’ve got to talk to the boss. Nature has to be in balance, and you escaping the clutches of death undid that.”

Erik stared. “Am I really that important?”

“No –” Raphael held up a palm before Erik said something sarcastic again, “– it’s not you, it’s the event. Time and space are now in flux. It happens more often than you think, but not for this. Endings are supposed to be fixed – at least when it comes to death.”

Erik considered this. "So, can I come with you when you have your confrontation with Death itself?"

Out of the whole of humanity, Raphael had to be assigned to this one. They wondered, not for the first time, what they had done to deserve this.