On a Steel Horse I Ride

Dianna Wickham

Disclaimer: I don't own rights to the Bonjovi song title, to Piers Anthony's On a Pale Horse, or to Eric Kripke's Supernatural

Spoilers: Up to Season 2 Ep 9 Croatoan, from that point on its all crossover and AU.

Summary: Shooting Death was a mistake, as Dean Winchester soon discovered. For the man who killed the Incarnation of Death is immediately forced to assume the vacant position! Thereafter, he must speed over the world taking souls to be judged, with Sam by his side and his trusty death horse… the Impala?

Chapter 1

Dean stood aghast. He had killed Death. He stood over the body of …Death… or at least he assumed it was Death. Who else would be working the whole black robe thing? Not to mention the bony bald skull with the vacant eye sockets and now gaping whole through its forehead. Dean raised his disbelieving gaze to his equally stunned brother. They had just been talking, Sam and Dean's last words before the chaos still echoing around in Dean's mind.

"Dean, I'm sick. It's over for me. It doesn't have to be for you. You could keep going."

And Dean's reply of, "who says I want to? I'm tired Sam, I'm tired of this job, this life. This weight on my shoulders, Man, I'm tired of it." Sam waved his hand at Dean's Gun, "So what, you're just going to give up? I mean, you're just gonna lay down and die?"

Dean's favorite ivory handled nickle-plated Colt 1911 A1 .45 caliber semi-automatic was in his hand, safety off and finger on the trigger, when the door to the room they had locked themselves into suddenly opened. Dean and Sam had both frozen in surprise. A bony bald skull stared sightlessly back at them. Dean had a brief irrational thought that this was Death, and it had come to collect Sam. As if his gun arm had a life of its own, it rose from it's lowered position, his trigger finger squeezing. The gun kicked back in Dean's hand, the loud sound of gun fire resounding through the brothers. The bullet smashed into the center of Death's face. A whole opened. Blood flowed. Death fell heavily to the floor.

Death was dead. "Dean, did you just… kill a reaper?" Sam asked in quiet amazement. Dean's green eyes were wide as they met hazel, "it sure looks like it Sammy… talk about random, what the hell?"

A female voice answered from the doorway, "He was careless, and I arranged it so he would die instead of you." The woman smiled motherly at them, "so willing to die Dean? Or is it that you are unwilling to live without Sam?" Dean pointed his gun at the middle aged woman. "Who are you? Are you the one behind this weird demon virus?" She continued to smile at him.

"At the moment I am Lachesis, Congratulations Dean, you killed Death. Now you must assume his office."

Dean cocked his head to the side, "come again?"

Sam spoke up "Lachesis, as in one of the three daughters of Nyx, the daughter of Necessity?" The women blinked at him, "most people just know me as the middle aspect of Fate. You can see I am of middle age without much sex appeal, it is my job to determine the length of the threads." She was right; her face held solid frown lines around her eyes and smile wrinkles around her mouth, denoting her maturity. Her hair, pulled up into a tight bun, was a chocolaty brown with streaks of grey. She was also comfortably overweight, but moved with a brisk efficiency.

"Threads?" Dean mumbled, this felt so unreal!

Lachesis sighed as she rubbed the spot between her eyes, "look, I suppose you boys do deserve at least a minimal explanation, but there really isn't much time. So I'll explain as best I can while you two strip the body."

Sam stood up to stand by his brother as they both said in chorus, "what!?!"

Lachesis tapped her comfortable looking shoes in irritation, "you two will not learn very much if you keep insisting on interrupting. Dean has killed Death, that makes him the new Death, this is the way it is done. He who kills Death becomes Death."

"Punishment…" Sam whispered.

"Not at all, this is not murder in the normal sense; he came here to collect your souls. Self-defense, but you are expected to take his place. After all, the world needs Death."

"What about reapers? I thought there was more than one." Dean spoke accusingly, gun held now at his side, not quite ready to put it away.

Lachesis shrugged, "underlings, they work for Death since Death has a lot to do, but they don't have the final say on the soul's destination. And only you have the ability to use the special equipment that comes with your position. Now, help me take this off." With that she began tugging at the dead skeleton's cloak. Sam looked to Dean for direction, Dean although still overwhelmed by the events of the last few minutes decided to just go with it for now. Tucking his gun into his jeans for safe keeping he then squatted down beside the older women and proceeded to lift up the dead Death for easier removal of the cloak. Somehow it just kept getting crazier the more he thought about it.

A/N: A tentative beginning. What do you think? Should I continue? After all, who wouldn't like to see the Impala come to life as Death's Horse? Review Please!