AN: Just an idea I got after I read Kurt Vonnegut's Slaughterhouse five. English is not my native language, so sorry about Engrish.
Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters in this story belong to someone else.
To regret one’s experiences is to arrest one’s own development.
[¹] He groaned. Who ever had written that, either had been a psychopath, or a saint.
And he did not believe in saints.
Swiftly, he took his glass, gulped it down and ordered another shot. "I've been waiting for you," He said to a young woman dressed in black, not taking his eyes off from his glass. “please, sit down. I ordered a drink for you too.”
A woman sat opposite him and gazed at him. "You have an interesting way to pick a woman up."
He grinned. "You're not a woman, and I'm not trying to pick you up. But I have been waiting for you."
She raised her brows. "You are lying. Even I didn't know that I was coming to here."
He shrugged. "I've done this before, and," He smiled. "I know that this will the be first of the many meetings between us, we'll continue seeing each other until I die."
She smiled maliciously. "That might be the day we meet again.”
“No,” He grinned. “that will be the day we will meet. Last time. And you will miss me.”
“Why would I?”
“I don't know, but that's what you will tell me.... And I do know who you are, I met your little brother, Morpheus, two nights after I misplaced my eye. And before I die I will meet most of your siblings,” He sighed. “I guess I'm just blessed that way.”
“Okay... I'll admit, I am intrigued, you do seem to know who I am, and... it is strange that I know when I will take you... outside that you don't exist to me...”
He raised his eyes to meet hers. “Once upon a time there was a Priest, who served the First Evil, and before he died, he called me: The one who sees. I'm sure that he didn't know how well that describes me. I'm the real life Billy Pilgrim,” He sighed. “November 14th, 2028, 01:36 AM, hit and run. It's strange...”
“Caleb wasn't too happy to die,” She said, and for a moment she studied him closely. “I've never met anyone who knows exactly when and how they die, some know when, some – like Caleb – know how, no one, before you, have known both. Yes, that is strange.”
He laughed to her. “No, the strangeness in it is the way I die, there's no demon or vampire involved, nothing supernatural, just a drunk driver losing control of his car,” Then he smiled broadly. “and how often do they actually laugh to you?”
“More often than you'd think,” She said. “but most of the time it's a bitter laugh that I hear.”
“I bet. Those who want to die are bitter to begin with, and others... they're bitter to lose their loved ones even if death doesn't scare them.”
“You are an interesting man,” She said and furrowed. “but still, why would I continue meeting you?”
“Honestly? I don't know. What comes to me... I need someone I can tell how... hard it is to be me. You haven't heard about the Billy Pilgrim, have you?”
“Well, that's a shame. As you know, all moments, past, present and future, always have existed, and always will exist until the end happens. And I am a man who sees all of the moments of his life as they are, were and will be. In a way, time doesn't exist to me. And, whoever made me this way arranged so that I can not tell that, or anything about my future, to anyone,” He said and smiled. “except to you endless',” He groaned. “I'm not living my life, I am a spectator in my own life. And why I want to spend some time with you... from all of your siblings I like you most because you understand how long my short life is.”
She nodded. “If I understood you right... even short life would seem endless,” She furrowed. “and if you've already lived through this... why bother to ask anything?”
“I've lived this countless times over, and yet, this is the first and only time, it's hard to explain. You of all things should know that this has always happened this way, and,” He smiled. “I still hope that one of these times you'll answer differently. That you'll break the script. Maybe then I'll be free.”
“That probably will never happen. We all are just puppets in this game. Even I.”
“Yeah, don't I know it,” He smiled. “and now that I've gathered enough courage...” He got up and offered his hand to her. “I'd like to ask The Death to go on a date with me...”
She smirked. “Don't expect to get a goodnight kiss.” She said as she took his had.
“Oh I know, that happens only once, just few minutes before I die,” He said and grinned. “though, I can't see beyond my death, who knows what happens after that...”
[¹] Oscar Wilde. I'm pretty sure that he wasn't a saint...