Chapter Text
"So, what? Call in a bomb threat?" Your older brother breathes exasperated, a little desperate even "1,000 bomb threats? I mean, how the hell are we supposed to get three million people out of Chicago in the next 10 minutes?" He asks almost rhetorically, and the very next moment, the demon from the passenger seat teleports away, most likely running to safety.
"Don't look now, but Crowley disappeared", you utter from the back seat, leaning slightly between the front seats to gaze out the front window at the damage the strong wind is doing.
Dean turns sharply toward the now unoccupied seat "Come on!"
To your luck and bafflement, for that matter, you see Crowley outside and nod to a building across the street "There he is!"
Your sibling's attention shifts to the demon as both of you observe Crowley mouthing something while pointing at the pizzeria. You briefly think he might be hungry. What's better than having a last meal before the whole city is destroyed, right?
"What? We can't hear you!" Dean intones redundantly - it's not like the demon could hear.
You nearly yelp when Crowley reappears in the car "I said: I found him. Death - he's in there", he announces, indicating the restaurant.
Both you and your brother nod, dreading to face the most dangerous horseman of them all.
"You coming or-" Dean stops talking when he notices that Crowley has disappeared yet again "I hate when he does that. Well, it seems it's just you and me, mouse", he says softly as he picks up Death's scythe.
You put your hand on his and slowly pry the weapon from his fingers "No, Dean, it's just me", you nearly whisper, the decision not fully settled in your mind.
A scowl twists his features as his eyes focus on you with laser precision "What?!"
A weary breath leaves you "Big brother, do you really think that Death doesn't know we are here and have the scythe? Death...", you air quote with your free hand "... is everywhere. Going guns blazing, as per your style, won't get us the ring. Let me go. I think I can negotiate... hopefully..." He stares at you, clearly against your idea, even though he acknowledges that your reasoning is logical "Trust me? Please?"
"Are you sure you can do it?" He asks, the fierce protectiveness coloring his tone.
You give him a small smile "I think so, if things go south, I'm counting on you to find a way to bring me back", you joke lightly, but it falls flat and results in Dean narrowing his eyes at your poor jest. You open the car door "Give me a chance. If I don't come back..." You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to appear brave "... call a bomb threat or something. We can't let all these people die," you say firmly, and that snaps him out of it.
He nods, his eyes betraying him and showing openly that the thought of your demise rattles him "Ok. Good luck, mouse."
You leave the Impala and gradually make your way to the pizzeria while the strong wind nearly picks you up and blows you away like Mary Poppins. By the time you reach the door, your heart pounds in fear so loudly that it's a miracle that your sternum isn't fractured. You glance up at the sign with Rinascita written in big bold letters, and you recall that it means 'rebirth' in Italian.
You dearly hope that you won't reach the rebirth stage today.
You place your hand on the doorknob and pray. Not to Chuck, to any deity or supernatural being out there that will take mercy on you and give you strength... maybe an ounce of luck as well.
You enter the pizzeria, and a gruesome sight welcomes you. Dead bodies litter the floor, and among them, a lone figure sits at a table eating without a care in the world. It's obvious that the man is Death. He simply exudes power even though he doesn't seem imposing. You study the figure's back and, for a moment, you wonder if using the scythe on him is truly a bad idea, as you initially thought. You throw a fleeting glance at the dead waitress at your feet and then at the other bodies closest to you. Clearly, they died in an instant and painlessly since nothing indicates an ugly death.
A shiver goes down your spine. How powerful is he if he managed to kill all the people in the restaurant so effortlessly? You look at the back of Death's head and convince yourself that your approach will be the best course of action.
"Good evening", you, somehow, manage to intone around the lump in your throat as you inch closer to the horseman "I have s-something of yours", you add, not wishing to give Death the impression that you are ambushing him. With a slight tremor in your hand, you place the scythe on the table next to his right hand and hope that he won't use the weapon on you. Not that he needs it to kill you. The bodies on the floor are a firm statement of this aspect.
"Thanks for returning that", Death's voice pierces the stillness of the room as one skeletal hand indicates the chair opposite him "Join me, Y/n. The pizza's delicious."
Like a man condemned to the gallows, you move toward the seat, and when you reach it, you turn to face Death with cold sweat clinging to your flesh. As Bobby's wife described, Death is very thin, and with how the fashion industry is going, you bet there are girls out there who wish to be as slender as him. The hooked nose, thin rose lips, and sallow skin contribute to his skeletal appearance. However, the element that stands out is his black eyes - cold and empty, almost reminiscent of dark tunnels. Another involuntary shiver goes down your spine.
"Sit down", he breaths out and you practically fall into the chair unceremoniously, the weight of meeting Death himself taking a toll on your body "Took you long enough to find me", he says conversationally almost as he cuts the slice of pizza that sits innocently on his plate "I must admit, I was expecting your older brother."
"Sorry about t-that", you automatically utter, and the dark gaze is back on you.
"Hm."
You don't really know whether his reaction was amusement at your apparent fear of him or his way of showing that he genuinely took your halfhearted apology to heart.
"I..." You force yourself not to tremble. Why does the air feel so heavy in his presence? "... considered t-that Dean wasn't t-the most diplomatic p-person for the job", you miraculously manage to phrase, and you think that intrigue shines in his eyes "I h-hope, you will allow me t-to talk b-before you kill me."
Death stares at you openly and from the look in his eyes, you are dead certain that he would roll his eyes if he had any less dignity "You have an inflated sense of your importance", you wince feeling slightly offended by the accusation "To a thing like me, a thing like you, well...", he trails off, prolonging your agony by taking a sip of his Pepsi "Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky."
You can't pinpoint if you feel more offended that you were compared to a bacterium or that he thinks that you have a snarky attitude. You don't... much...
"This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers", he leans a little closer and you force yourself not to run when a coldness seems to seep deep into your bones "I'm old, Y/n. Very old", he repeats like you are a child incapable of understanding properly what he is saying "So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you", Death takes a slice of pizza and puts it on your plate "Eat."
He fixes you with his onyx gaze, waiting for you to obey, and you timidly cut a bite and sample it. You chew slowly, savoring the taste of what might be your last meal, and it surely must be a trick of the light because for a millisecond you could swear Death's mouth twitched upward.
"Good, isn't it?"
You nod "I never had deep-dish pizza", you admit, and know that Dean would love it "Uh... How old are you?" You breathe out without pondering the question, and you don't allow your face to morph into a grimace. You are on a mission, not on a date to ask that!
He picks up his fork and knife and cuts his slice of pizza. He, surprisingly, doesn't seem bothered by your inquiry and opts to answer "As old as God", he pauses briefly in thought "Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless - at the end, I'll reap him, too."
Your eyebrows shoot up your forehead "God? You will reap God?"
For a second, he seems offended by your question, but that is quickly replaced by a slight tilt of his head "Oh, yes. God will die, too, Y/n."
"I... don't know h-how to take that information", you admit as you scan the room, ignoring to your best abilities the dead bodies. You see the fridge with refreshments, and before you can get up to take one, a tap is heard.
You immediately focus back on Death and note that he hit his ring lightly against his glass. The ring you need to take. He indicates the unopened can of Pepsi that somehow appeared on the table in front of you. Well, at least he is a gentleman.
"Thank you", you utter as you open it and pour it. You feel his intense eyes on you as you drink, and you actually feel like a bacterium under his gaze. Still not snarky, thank you very much.
"You know why I am h-here and what I want. Uh...w-what do you want?" Your question sounded way better in your head.
His eyes darken and you are certain that you crossed a line "The leash around my neck off", he says a tad too forcefully for how calm and collected he appeared until now "Lucifer has me bound to him", he nearly spats in annoyance "Some unseemly little spell", he adds with an ugly twist of his mouth "He has me where he wants, when he wants. That's why I couldn't go to you. I had to wait for you to catch up", it nearly sounds like he is chiding you for your tardiness "He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, raising the dead. I'm more powerful than you can process, and I'm enslaved to a bratty child with a temper tantrum."
You bite your tongue to stop the giggle that wants to escape you when Death compares the former angel to a kid "And you think...I can unbind you?"
He tilts his head and gives off the impression that he is pondering if you are stupid or something "There's your ridiculous bravado again", he says irritated by your suggestion "Of course you can't. But you can help me take the bullets out of Lucifer's gun. I understand you want this", he utters propping his arm on the table to place his hand between the two of you, his silver ring seemingly shining temptingly.
"What girl doesn't want a ring?"
One arched eyebrow climbs his forehead. Damn, you let out the snarky. And you swear he seems proud of himself for guessing correctly.
"Y-yeah", you mumble, more embarrassed that he was right than your joke made in poor taste.
"I'm inclined to give it to you."
You must've heard wrong "To... give it to me?"
"That's what I said."
"But what about... Chicago?"
He stares at you blankly for a few moments "I suppose it can stay", he declares as if he made a concession for your sake "I like the pizza." Or for the food, apparently.
"It's good pizza", you faintly agree, as if your input will solidify his decision.
The corner of his mouth twitches in an attempt of a smile of agreement, but he nips it in the bud "There are conditions."
When aren't there?
"Obviously. Like?"
"You have to do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell."
Confusion overcomes you. Isn't that the point?
"Of course."
He doesn't seem satisfied by your words "Whatever it takes."
"That's the plan..." You breathe out, not understanding what is going on.
"No. No plan. Not yet. Your brother, Sam. He's the one who can stop Lucifer. The only one."
Suddenly, your fear drops to second place, and your protectiveness over your family shines bright "What?!"
"I need a promise”, well, at least he doesn’t want your firstborn or a contract in blood “You're going to let your brother jump right into that fiery pit.”
You feel like someone slapped you. He can't be serious, can he? And yet his impassive and cold gaze tells you that he is indeed very, very serious. You weigh your options. Tell him the truth that you will be damned if you let your brother sacrifice himself? That will result in no ring and maybe even your death for good measure. Lie to Death himself? The mere thought seems like pure madness, and you fear what he will do the moment he finds out that you lied. Well, better to ask for forgiveness... right?
“Well, do I have your word?"
"Okay, yes."
He narrows his eyes slightly and you gulp, hoping that he doesn't read minds "That had better be 'yes', Y/n. You know you can't cheat death."
You nod, hoping that he won't pick up the lie "Yes", you say firmly, holding our your hand.
Is he amused that you are now practically demanding to have the ring? Skeptical about what you declared? You really can't tell anything: he has a perfect poker face.
With a fluid motion, he takes the ring off and lets it fall in your palm.
The ring feels cold and seems to weigh directly on your heart. Heaven, what have you done? You tricked Death.
"T-thank you."
He hums instead of answering and returns to his pizza.
You take that as your cue to skedaddle out of there. You slowly get up "Uh... t-thanks for the pizza. Have a n-nice day...?" You breathe out as you inch closer to the door.
He doesn't answer, nor does he renounce his word and smite you where you stand.
You exit the shop and walk toward Baby like a puppet on strings, too much in a stupor to even look where you are going.
Dean gets out of the car "Did you get it?"
His voice snaps you out of your funk and you nod "Yes."
He smiles brightly, whisking you into a hug and spinning happily with you while you recount the encounter you just had in your mind.
You stare blankly at the floor, numb to everything. Your brother, your kind sibling, is dead. Trapped in the box with Lucifer for all eternity.
Your eyes sting again. You couldn't save him. Once more, tears trail down your face.
You nearly jump startled when a handkerchief appears before you, held by a very skeletal hand.
Your attention snaps up, and you pale when you see Death before you, looking impassively at you.
Is he here to kill you?!
Not to be rude, you take the offering with a trembling hand "Thank you."
He doesn't reply, walking around the room casually, glancing at the books scattered about "You kept your word."
You nearly scoff at how wrong he is. You didn't want Sam to jump in the cage. You and Dean did everything in your power to stop him, but in the end, it was all in vain.
You aren't foolish enough to admit the truth "As I said."
He regards you, his gaze flickering to your chest for a second "Indeed", bottomless eyes focus on you "I don't understand why you are crying, though."
If he wasn't a horseman of the apocalypse, you would beat him up for what he said.
"My brother died. How can I not cry?" You ask a tad too forcefully, borderline aggressively.
He tilts his head to the side just slightly "He died five times until this day. Your brothers have a bad tendency to come back."
He seems irritated by this fact, but there's something there, hidden in his painfully neutral tone.
You narrow your eyes, his words ringing in your mind in a crescendo "Are you implying that Sam will come back?"
"I never said that, did I?" He retorts, but in his black eyes there's a slight flicker as subtle as a candle's playful flame.
"He will come back", you state firmly, hopeful.
He doesn't say anything, giving you a haughty look before disappearing the next second you blink.
What was that all about?! Why did Death pay you a visit? He couldn't have dropped by to give you hope. You stand up abruptly, and the necklace around your throat jiggles slightly. Your eyes widen, and you rapidly look down at the ring you put on the chain - Death's ring.
Oh! That's why he came to you! But why didn't he take it?
"N-now, yo-you have, uh, done this a lot?" You ask, hating how you sound like a blushing virgin as you watch Dr. Robert moving around the very unsanitary office.
"Oh, many, many times."
You swallow hard, forcing your fear down and wondering if this is the only way you can get Sam's soul back - it is, but you can hope "And your...success rate?"
"Oh, excellent, almost 75%", that does nothing to your anxiety "You will have three minutes."
That is far less time than you would like, but the other option is permanent - a state you would like to avoid. You grip the ring dangling from the chain around your neck in a vice. Why couldn't Death have a phone number or something?
"So, should we get the, uh, preliminaries out of the way?" The man says, snapping you out of your thoughts.
"Yeah. Uh, yeah, right", you take out of your pocket the envelope with money.
"There's no need for that."
The doctor yelps, and both of you turn to the newcomer. Your eyes widen when you see Death, his impassive gaze fixed on you.
"Your services are no longer needed", he adds, using his cane to push the doctor to the side. He then walks to the door leading to the front of the building, and you scramble to follow. "This establishment is appalling", he intones, holding the last door open.
You pass him meekly and step into the busy street, a shiver of fear going down your spine "Thank you."
"I'm a busy man, Y/n. Talk fast", he practically orders as he goes down the street.
You follow him "I-I have something of yours."
Death's gaze flickers to the bauble resting above your heart "You mean my ring? I recall loaning you that temporarily."
"Yes. I thought you might want it back", you reply, surprisingly not stuttering, as you take the chain off and offer it to him.
He doesn't answer or take the ring from your hand. He, however, stops at a food truck and orders some tacos.
"What is it you want?" He asks suddenly after he pays for his order.
Did he even hear what you said?
You grip the ring tightly in your palm "Uh... Lucifer's cage. I figure you're one of the few people who can actually jailbreak it."
He takes his drink, lightly holding another cup to you "Do you?"
You refrain from flinching at his cold tone, taking the cup "Thank you. Sam's soul is stuck in that box."
He sips his soda calmly, gazing at you as if you told him that the sky is blue "I've heard."
"And our other brother is trapped in there, too. Michael rode him in."
He pins you in place with his piercing gaze "Y/n, quit shuffling and deal."
Futilely, you try to clear the dryness in your throat - you half succeed "I was thinking that you can get them out..." you close to mumble.
He takes his taco order "Hmm. Pick one", he breathes out, taking the food to the creaky chairs placed in front of the truck.
For a moment, you foolishly think he is asking you to choose one of the tacos. Then it hits you, and you feel nauseous.
"What?!" You nearly squeak as you fall gracelessly into the chair opposite him.
He pushes in front of you one of the dishes "Sam's soul or Adam's."
You place the ring on the table between you "But-"
He cuts you off "As a rule, I don't bring people back. I might make an exception once, not twice. So... Pick", he utters, taking a bite of his food unhurriedly - didn't he say that he was busy?
You purse your lips in a tight line and don't hesitate to answer with the name of the brother with who you grew up with "Sam", you take a fry and munch on it annoyed that Adam will continue to be tortured in that cage "His soul has been in there for a year, and I understand that it's... damaged."
"Try flayed to the raw nerve", he says without an ounce of emotion.
You flinch - that sounds far from pleasant "Well, is there any way that you could, uh, I don't know, cut the Hell part off?"
He looks at you, utterly unimpressed "Y/n, Y/n, Y/n", is he trying to banish you away like Beetlejuice? "What do you think the soul is? Some pie you can slice? The soul can be bludgeoned, tortured, but never broken. Not even by me."
"Oh...", you look away disappointed.
"There might be something", your focus shifts to Death who daps his mouth daintily, already finished with his taco - you quickly grab your own and take a bite, not about to be rude - after all he paid for it "I can't erase Sam's hell, but I can...put it behind a wall, if you will."
Your eyebrows shot up "A wall?"
Is he Bob the Builder or something?
He nods shortly "In his mind", he clears up as if he heard your thoughts. Wait, he can't, can he?! "A dam to hold back the tide. Nasty, those memories. You don't want to know what they'll do to him. Believe me."
You shudder "Okay. A wall. Sounds good."
"I never said I'd do it."
You nearly choke on your last bite "Well, then what have we been talking about?" You ask close to pissed.
He sips his drink, not bothered by your annoyance in the slightest "Your prize. If you win the wager."
You can't stop your eyes from rolling "Great. What's the bet?"
He narrows his eyes a fraction and you are suddenly reminded who he is "Don't roll your eyes, Y/n. It's impolite", he taps the table next to his ring "I want you to put it on."
"What? Why?!"
Something flickers in his gaze like the dying breath of a star "And here I thought women wanted a ring on their finger", did he just crack a joke?! Monotonously, but still. "I want you to be me for one day."
You are incredulous "Are you serious?"
"No, I'm being incredibly sarcastic", he deadpans so bluntly that you are taken aback.
He takes the ring off the chain and holds it out for you "Take the ring off before the 24 hours are up, and you lose. No soul for Sam. Clear?"
You feel your heart plummet. The stakes are damn high if you are to be honest. Your attention flickers to his face, and it gives you pause. He is still his poker-faced self, but there's something in his bottomless eyes - a twinkle, almost, or is it a challenge?
With a trembling hand you take it "Okay. Yes."
He leans back against the backrest, seemingly pleased by your cooperation "Good. Tessa here", he indicates a woman who appeared out of thin air "Will be your guide. Good luck."
You blink and he is gone. Well, he did have the decency to wish you luck. Maybe you're growing on him.
"Wow. They'll just let anyone be Death these days", Tessa says obviously irritated by this.
You glare at her "Well, aren't you a ray of sunshine?" You snap.
She narrows her eyes "Let's be clear so that we get through this with a minimum of screw-up. I don't like this. And right now, I'm not crazy about you, either."
You stand up "What a coincidence! I'm not crazy about you, either. If you want someone to blame, blame your boss. This is his idea, not mine."
She crosses her arms like a petulant child "True. But you and your brothers have a long history of throwing a wrench in everything, so let's just stick to the rules. Deal?"
You slip the ring on your finger and a chill travels down your spine "And the rules are?" You demand in a haughty tone. After all, you are wearing Death's ring - you hardly think this Reaper will dare to go against you at this moment.
She tilts her head back slightly, clearly surprised by your tone "For the next 24 hours, you kill everyone whose number's up."
Your eyelashes flutter "And how am I supposed to know who to-"
"Kill? I have a list. You touch them, they die, I reap them. Are we clear?"
"Yes. Let's go."
Tessa smirks derisively "Eager are you?"
"Can I kill Reapers as well? Asking for a friend", you inquire with an exaggerated theatrical wave of your hand in her direction.
"No", she retorts bluntly "Don't mess this up. It's not my job to be your damn babysitter."
Your jaw ticks, but before you can argue with her, you somehow get teleported into a convenience store where an armed robbery is currently taking place.
You watch as the robber points a gun at the cashier, who is standing behind the register with his scared son. You hope that by some miracle, the robber dies.
"They can't hear you. They can't see you. Just let this play out", Tessa informs you.
You hum, clenching your fists "Who am I taking?"
"Wait and see."
God, you hate her.
The robber points the gun at the child "You want me to shoot the kid?! Hurry up! Oh, you think I'm kidding? And don't forget the drawer under the register. Come on, move it! Let's go!"
The cashier pushes the money bag off the counter onto the floor, and while the robber bends to pick it up, he pulls a gun out of the drawer under the register and shoots the robber, who falls to the ground, in agony.
The Reaper snaps her fingers in front of you "Hello? Tick tock."
You walk over to the fallen man "He's in agonizing pain, right?"
"Uh... yes...?" She answers slightly confused.
"Give me a minute", you reply, savoring how this bastard suffers.
After a few moments, you touch his shoulder, and his soul appears before you.
"Why?!" The robber nearly shouts.
You straighten "Because you're a dick. Enjoy the ride down."
Tessa rolls her eyes and disappears with the robber's soul.
"Well, that wasn't so hard", you utter when she returns "What's next?" Again, you are teleported away and find yourself in front of a cafe "I'm starting to like this way of transportation. Cheap and effective."
Tessa approaches a man eating pizza "Don't get used to it."
You follow "Call me crazy, but this smells like a heart attack."
As if on cue, the man clutches his chest and falls forward.
"Huh, I should buy a lottery ticket. It seems I am good at guessing."
You touch the man, and his soul materializes in front of you.
"Why?" The specter asks, and you deduce that you will hear this question a lot today.
You shrug "Maybe it was the extra cheese?"
The man looks at the piece of pizza on the ground "Yeah. It was good, though."
You signal Tessa, and she quickly takes the soul away.
Soul after soul, you do your job without remorse, thinking of only saving your brother. But as always, an obstacle has to put a wench in your plans.
You teleport once again to a hospital. Is this the third or fourth time in the last hours?
Tessa points to a door "After you, boss", she says in a sweet tone - after the first two hours she warmed up to you when she saw that you were doing your job right.
You enter the hospital room where a father is reading a story to his sick daughter.
You freeze "The dad or the kid?" You ask redundantly the child looking half-dead already.
"Kid."
You swallow hard "What is she, 13?"
"She's 12."
You look away. God, she is so young. You only had to deal with adults and elderly people until now.
"Does this guy have any other family?" You ask hopefully.
"No, not really", she answers, watching you intently.
"Well, this is awesome", you reply sarcastically.
"What, you thought it was all gonna be armed robbers, car accidents, and heart attacks waiting to happen?"
"She's 12!" You hiss.
She glares at you "With a serious heart condition."
You are tempted to refuse. After all, you are Death now - can't you make an exception? You pause. Is this actually what he wanted to show you? You focus on the girl. If you don't kill her, then what happens? She will suffer with her condition for the rest of her life, being alive without actually enjoying it. But what if she gets better?
You think further. What if there are more consequences? You lived long enough to know that an action has an equal and opposite reaction. What if by sparing her, someone else dies - someone who wasn't meant to die at this moment?
You don't need to turn to see that Tessa is staring at you openly, waiting to see what you will do.
You look down at the ring on your finger before balling your fist. You refuse to let Sam suffer without a soul.
With heavy steps you approach and, averting your gaze, touch the girl's head. You don't look at her as she asks 'why?' nor do you watch as her father shouts her name, yelling for the nurse and doctor.
Tessa takes pity on you and teleports you away before taking the girl's soul to Heaven.
"What would have happened if I hadn't taken her soul?" You inquire the moment Tessa comes back.
She sighs "The girl would have recovered miraculously, but her nurse would have died in her place."
You feel nauseous, but somehow you manage to mask it as you go and reap the next unfortunate soul.
"Well, congratulations. Your 24 hours are up", the Reaper says, teleporting you to your bedroom at Bobby's.
"Thanks", you retort numbly, falling onto the bed too heavily.
She disappears without any further ado, and you stare blankly at the floor. For how long, you don't actually know, but one thing is for certain: the hollow feeling that gripped you doesn't lessen as the minutes tick by.
"Y/n", you jolt, turning sharply toward the window where Death sits at your small table "Join me", he says pointing to the plate on the table opposite him "Brought you one-", he informs you as you sit and see a hot dog "-from a little stand in Los Angeles known for their bacon dogs."
You stare at it, your stomach close to evacuating its contents "What's with you and cheap food?" You whisper under your breath.
Unfortunately, he hears you "Could ask you the same thing", he retorts promptly "Thought you deserved a little treat for the well done job", he watches you as he chews and doesn't fail to notice you wincing "Heavier than it looks, isn't it?" He utters, casually nodding to the ring perched on your finger "Sometimes, you just want the thing off. But you know that. Not hungry?" He asks idly.
You shake your head "It's hard being you."
He gives you a look, something you can't place flickering in his onyx eyes "It is", he agrees "Today, you got a hard look behind the curtain. You and your brothers throw away your lives because you've come to assume that it'll bounce right back into your lap. But the human soul is not a rubber ball. It's vulnerable, impermanent, but stronger than you know. And more valuable than you can imagine. So... I think you've learned something today."
Your throat works. Your siblings do have the nasty habit of dying and coming back. You, however, have never done it. If what Death says is true, then your death will probably be permanent, which is unfair to say the least. You don't need to worry about your brothers. You know them well enough to know that they will somehow come back. But you? You nearly scoff. You will be dead and buried for good.
You don't bother pointing out the unfairness of his statement regarding death, instead focusing on the other aspect "A soul is stronger than I think? Does that mean that Sam's soul is strong enough to survive whatever happened to it in the cage?"
"It's possible", he stands up "We're done here. It's been lovely. But now I'm going to go to Hell to get your brother's soul."
You scramble to your feet "Will he be alright?" You ask worriedly.
He stares at you for a few moments, and with measured steps inches closer. You nearly cower under his smoldering gaze, and your breath stops in your throat when his arm extends toward you. Does he want to reap you?! Is this actually a soul for a soul exchange?!
Your heart hammers so loudly in your ears that you nearly stagger when he takes your hand lifting it to slide his ring off your finger "I can't say for certain", he doesn't put the ring on, but pulls out of his pocket an intricate chain - way more expensive than the one you had until now - and allows the ring to slide on it "Every soul is different", he informs you as he puts the chain around your neck, his ring resting right above your heart.
You swallow hard, not understanding why he did this.
He takes a step back, resting his hand on his cane "Your brothers keep coming back", he says close to exasperated "They're an affront to the balance of the universe, and they cause disruption on a global scale."
"I apologize for that...?" You say awkwardly.
He tilts his head slightly as if acknowledging your rather pathetic apology "Right now, you're digging at something. The intrepid Detective. I want you to keep digging, Y/n."
You frown, letting the snarky out "Does being cryptic come with the job or-"
"It's about the souls. You'll understand when you need to", he disappears from sight and you rush out the door.
"Bobby! Dean!" You yell and you hear their answer from the basement. You reach them in record time "Where's Sam?"
"Inside", your sibling says, pointing behind him.
"Open the door!”
The older man knits his eyebrows "What happened?"
"Now!" You close to growl "I got Sam's soul back!"
With wide eyes, they open the panic room, and you see Sam trying to inch away from Death.
"Get away from me! Don't. Don't!"
Death is far from deterred by his pleas "Now, Sam, I'm gonna put up a barrier inside your mind."
"No, don't touch me."
"It might feel a little...Itchy. Do me a favor- don't scratch the wall. Trust me - you're not gonna like what happens", the skeletal male says matter-of-factly taking Sam's soul out of his bag and in what swift move puts it back inside your sibling.
Death then teleports away while Sam's shouts ring in the room.
You put the rare fulgurite in the bowl with the rest of the ingredients. Ignoring the people your brothers hogtied just so you could borrow this ingredient.
"Do you think this will work?" Dean asks as you draw the sigil.
"Pray that it will", you retort, cutting your hand and allowing a few drops of your blood to fall into the bowl and mix with the blood of the men accompanying you.
You take a deep breath "Te nunc invoco, Mortem. Te in mea potestate defixi. Nunc et in aeternum!" You speak clearly despite your emotions and nothing happens.
You and the rest look around the room confused. It didn't work? After tying a whole family to get the fulgurite, at least the spell could've worked!
"You're joking", his voice comes from behind you.
You spin on your heels and nearly flinch when Death's bottomless eyes meet your own. He looks far from happy.
"I-I'm sorry. This isn't what it seems", you breathe out.
He tilts his head to the side and lifts his arms luminous handcuffs appearing on his wrists "Seems like you bound me", he intones accusingly.
Why is he glaring at you only?! You four bound him, and yet he is throwing daggers at you.
Dean steps forward "For good reason, okay? Just, uh, hear us out. Um... Fried pickle chip? Y/n told us that you like junk food. They're the best in the state", he speaks quickly, clearly he is nervous to be in the horseman’s presence.
Death's attention doesn't shift from you "That easy to soothe me, you think? This is about Sam's hallucinations, I assume?"
"What?" You and Dean utter, focusing on your sibling.
"Sorry, Sam. One wall per customer."
You shake your head. One problem at a time.
"We will unbind you after you kill God", you say in one breath.
His eyebrows jump on his forehead a fraction "Pardon?"
Bobby inches forward "Kill God. You heard right. Your... Honor."
Death attention doesn't falter from you "What makes you think I can do that?"
You nod in his direction "You told me."
He leans on his cane "Why should I?"
Before you can answer, Castiel's voice rings in the room "Amazing."
Your eyes widen when you see how deformed the angel-turned-God looks.
"I didn't want to kill you, but now...", he says nonchalantly, eyeing you and the men.
Dean stands straighter "You can't kill us. Death is our bitch. We ain't gonna die, even if God pulls the trigger."
You refrain from rolling your eyes. Why for the love of all that's holy does your sibling have to be so crass?
"Annoying little protozoa, aren't they-" Death chimes in, his focus now on the angel "-God? You look awfully like a mutated angel to me. Your vessel's melting. You're going to explode."
Castiel glares at him "No, I'm not. When I've finished my work, I'll repair myself."
You are certain that Death is a second away from rolling his eyes in disdain "You think you can because you think you're simply under the weight of all those souls, yes? But that's not the worst problem. There are things much older than souls in Purgatory, and you gulped those in, too."
You pale at the revelation "What older things?!"
The skeletal man's attention remains on the mutated angel "Long before God created Angel and man, he made the first beasts: the Leviathans", he shrugs slightly "I personally found them entertaining, but he was concerned they'd chomp the entire petri dish, so he locked them away. Why do you think he created Purgatory? To keep those clever, poisonous things out. Now, Castiel has swallowed them. He's the one thin membrane between the old ones and your home."
"Enough", Castiel hisses.
Death is far from impressed "Stupid little soldier you are", he breathes out, moving around the room idly.
"Why? Because I dared open a door that he shut? Where is he? I did a service, taking his place."
Death's eyebrows move upward "Service?" He stops walking right between you and the angel "Settling petty vendettas?"
"No. I'm cleaning up one mess after another selflessly", Castiel growls, clenching his fists.
"Quite the humanitarian", the horseman says sarcastically.
"And how would you know? What are you, really? A flyswatter?"
You don't know what impresses you more, Castiel's courage to talk like this to the only being who can kill him or Death's surprisingly calm attitude.
"Destined to swat you, I think."
You stand corrected. It seems his patience ran its course.
"Unless I take you first."
Is he for real? Does he really think he can go head-to-head with one of the horsemen of the Apocalypse?
"Really bought his own press, this one", the skeletal man intones "Please, Cas. I know God, and you, sir, are no God."
You close the distance and lightly tug on Death's sleeve as your older brother starts speaking "All right, put your junk away, both of you. Look, call him what you want. Just kill him now!" He orders Death.
You start praying that Death will ignore the disrespectful tone and do as he was bidden.
"All right. Fine."
Huh? Will he follow your brother's order?
Castiel snaps his fingers, and the luminous cuffs disperse the next second, releasing Death.
The horseman hums "Shall we kickbox now?"
Castiel stares, his attention moving from one face to the other agonizingly slowly until it lands on you - close to clinging to Death's arm.
"I had a tingle I'd be reaping someone very, very soon", the skeletal man voices and your hand leaves him as burned as you take a few steps back.
He turns his head a fraction, enough so he can throw you a fleeting glance over his shoulder "Don't worry - not you", he intones just as Castiel vanishes "Well, he was in a hurry", he utters as he goes to the table and samples the pickle chips.
All of you are on pins and needles, watching the horseman with bated breath.
He waves to the chair in front of him "Y/n."
With a heavy heart and fear coursing through your veins, you inch to the table and take a seat.
"I warned you about those souls, how long ago?"
How were you supposed to understand his cryptic message about souls?!
"You weren't too direct", you retort and flinch the next second. Damn. You let out the snarky again.
He blinks slowly at you "Long enough to stop that fool", he continues, obviously choosing to overlook your answer "And here we are again, with your little planet on the edge of immolation."
Your older brother takes a step closer "Well, we are sorry. All right? We've been trying to save this planet, so maybe you should find somebody better to tip off than us!"
The skeletal man turns his head toward Dean slowly and you don't fail to notice how all three men seem to shake in their boots "Maybe I should spend my effort on a better planet."
Your chances with... everything really are going down exponentially "Didn't you find Castiel annoying?" You ask him and his attention once again shifts to you.
He nods "I do find that little angel arrogant", he agrees and offers you some of his pickled chips.
You take one not to be rude "So... can you give us something to put him in his place?" You ask timidly, hopefully, and a tad desperately if you are honest.
He hums "Your only hope is to have him return it all to Purgatory. Quickly."
"We need a door", Sam chimes in.
It seems Death considers that you are the only one worth talking to because he doesn't look away "You have everything you need at that lab. Get him to return there and compel him to give up the power.”
"But that door only opens in the eclipse, and that's over", Bobby points out.
Death takes a deep breath "I'll make another. 3:59 Sunday morning, just before dawn", he stands up and you jump to your feet "Be punctual", he lifts one lone finger effectively stopping you from uttering anything "Don't thank me. Clean up your mess", his piercing glare suddenly pins your siblings and Bobby in place "Try to bind me again, you'll die before you start", he says in such a cold tone that shivers go down your spine - you bet your blood has ice cubes in it. He regards you again "Nice pickle chips, by the way", with that he disappears.
With this adventure finished, you return home, planning your next move with the others.
However, when you reach your room, you find a fulgurite on your desk. You study it, confused and put it away, wondering how it got in your bedroom.