E-mail: angelchildr@freaky.nu
Rating: pg-13? Hints at certain dark-type things.
Pairing: None! Woohoo. Look at that.
Summary: Once in a while, a child is born, and The Endless take notice.
Disclaimer: The boy is not mine unfortunately. The Endless are not mine. They are the property of Mr. Neil Gaiman, as much as they can belong to anyone but themselves.
Distribution: http://penned-insanity.freaky.nu/ (My site) or ask.
Author's Note: Miss Faye wrote "Punchline" a while back. This invaded my head as soon as I read it and had been hanging out there for a while. I finally typed (most of) this out at Faye to try and purge it from my brain, and she insisted I post it to LJ. So (with a few edits) there you go.

Oh, also, written so that you don't have to know who "the boy" is. But if you know me, you'll most likely be able to figure it out. If you don't know who The Endless are, goodness, go read Sandman. Really. You'll be doing yourself a huge favor.

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Destiny got him first. Though that wasn't surprising. Destiny got everyone first. Saw him appear on the page, smiled faintly, just once, at the games he would provide the Siblings with.

Dream took over next. Even as a baby the boy dreamed more than most. Ideas and stories and travels he would take. Once almost reaching the center of the Dreaming before its lord pushed him back out again and he woke in a cold sweat.

Desire saw this and laughed. For what young man *doesn't* desire what he dreams about?
Fame, fortune, the ability to change, to change others, and yet under it all, the need to stay the same. But Desire was tricky, and one person can't have everything.

Dream and Desire played with the boy, back and forth, days and nights filled with their tug-of-war in the boy's head until something had to break free and the music came.

And so did the girl. And Desire laughed.

Desire laughed and handed the boy off to Despair. And the love died.

Dream frowned. And the music lived.

Destiny watched as they passed the boy between themselves. Always with one of them, never letting him walk alone along his path.

Destiny turned the page and saw the boy's chosen name larger than life.

Desire grew bored. Played a little more. Made the boy want his old life back. Made him want things he could never return to. Made him want so many things that he could no longer contain them all in his head.

Delirium sang into his heart, into his mind. Sent him saints on stuffed elephants. Played children's games with him in the dark. Tag you're it and red rover red rover can you now come over? Squirrels and monkeys and zebras and toy cars and little red boxes and three-three-three-red-white-black and so many other things.

But at her core she was still sometimes Delight, and he smiled and was able to continue on. Clinging to the threads that Dream still fed him in the few holy hours of sleep he managed to steal for himself.

Even the lost Brother couldn't keep himself from the boy. Violence passed through, unchecked and unwanted. Left an injury. A scar. A mark to be remembered by. But Destruction tired quickly of his Siblings' games and continued walking on.

Despair returned. The injury that wouldn't heal. Pain and anguish over dreams lost. She dug her hook into that scar, made it ache. Made it throb with the reminder of what he'd lost.

Desire grew ambitious, wanting to see how much the boy could want. What the boy could be made to want. Push push push, and with the constant presence of Despair and a brief kiss from Delirium, pushed him toward their other Sister.

She smiled sadly. Shook her head. Blinked her eyes and sent him back. Scolded her Siblings. 'It is not his time. Let him be. Play your games with someone new.' Gave him back to her Brother, the one she trusted (most of the time). Sent the boy dreams to soothe his mind. Told him that she'd see him another night.

Destiny nodded and turned the page, looking on the next child his book held.

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