DISCLAIMER: I do not own Supernatural.

I have no clue what happened to Death, if he suffered the same fate as the other Horsemen of the Apocalypse or if it is different when he gives it willingly away, but I just think that it would be fun to see some interaction between him and God.

This was written between season five´s finale and season six, so there are no nods to the current canon.

Also, there are tiny hints to my other fanfic, "Betting on this Bout", but not much.

Death was sitting on a bench. He could care less about where the bench was, but he was satisfied that this randomly chosen wooden coach had a nice view of a park in August, ready to have its yellowing leaves fall and run with the wind before eventually landing on the ground, preparing to rot away.

Although nobody of the people at the park noticed it, Death knew that someone had just transported beside him, and as he turned around, he witnessed a short man in his middle thirties' in old, well-used clothes. He seemed pretty nervous as he fidgeted with his fingers and shuffled his feet, raising one palm slightly as to sign a "hello".

"Uh, you called?" the man said, not certain what to say. Death only raised his eyes slightly before replying.

"Yes, I did. Please, sit down and enjoy the view with me." The man laughed lowly, nervously, before approaching the bench and sitting next to him. They just looked at the scenery for a while in silence, but eventually, the man known by most humans as Carver Edlund talked.

"You aren't going to kill me yet, are you?"

Finally Death turned his attention back to the man. "Don't be ridiculous, God, you know it is too early for that yet."

"Heh, y-yeah, I guess so." He fidgeted a little more with his fingers. "Y-you're not here because the tiny little incident with… uh, you know…"

"Why yes, I wanted to assure you how much trouble your young son caused me when you let him out from his Time-Out."

"Yeeeeeaaaaaah…" Probably not sure how to answer without making the old presence beside him angry, he pronounced the word for a long time while thinking of something to say. "Sorry about that. If it helps, the Winchesters took him back and let you go."

It must have been a wrong movement, because Death looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Naturally; Dean Winchester owed me for the pizza." He turned his attention once again back to the scene before him. "So you handed the problem over to some hunters so that you didn't have to get involved again?"

"Well yeah, did you want me to involve myself and make it even worse, again? Death, I'm just an almighty guy who can't raise his sons without screwing them up to save his live. I-I-I mean," the man shrugged, not exactly sure how to properly explain it without sounding stupid before Death himself. "Why do you else think I created humans with a mind of their own? At least they don't always go to me to know what to do." Pause. "…Not in the last century, at least. Most of them. Kind of."

"I suppose you might be right."

There was more silence as they watched some mothers call for their children to prepare going home. Most of the children did not want to leave, but in the end let go, deciding they would come back later.

"Y-you know you and your brothers have to go back to sleep soon, right?" Death, without looking in the other's eyes, nodded while watching the last mother drag an unwilling son from the park.

"We all need to rest and regain our strength, maybe our rings, as well, for the next time."

"There won't be a next time." The Horseman of Death could easily hear that the other's words were empty, and when he looked at his face, even the most oblivious human would see that the powerful man himself knew it. But he figured he would pretend to not have noticed.

"There will," Death said, with no doubt or self-security in his voice. It was only a statement. "Even if Lucifer somehow regains his light of the morning star, Michael might end up taking his place while in the cage, since you was kindly enough to let your most loyal and loving son fall with the spoiled, brattish child." A piercing death glare. "You and the Winchesters might have stopped Lucifer's temper tantrum, but the apocalypse itself has merely been postponed for later."

Although obviously not willing to admit it, the other nodded, a worried look on his face. Death, being who he was, would never understand how hard it would be for a father to lose a new-born creation still in its diapers, and so he would never notice nor care when he had this longingly glance at the horizon.

Then, out of the blue, the man thought to be Carver Edlund took his hand inside his jacket, and out he held a pizza box. Death immediately recognized the logo for the pizza restaurant where he had surrendered his Ring of Death. "Just… an apology for the trouble Lucifer gave you." He shrugged in insecurity. "It wasn't easy to get it; you killed most of the chefs, you know. I had to resurrect one of them and make him believe he had slept over his watch when a gas leakage went on."

Shrugging in a way that reminded the man of Samuel Winchester, Death accepted the gift, before he rose up from the bench, his hands still leaning onto the cane. "Well, I guess it is time for me to go." The younger-looking being rose from the bench too, his hands in his pockets. The oldest Horseman offered his hand. "Until next time, God."

The hand was accepted. "Yeah, next time."