Supernatural Fanfiction

Chapter 2


~o0o~


Tucked up away in the top north eastern area of America lies the state of Maine was a rather picturesque place to bring up a family. In the are, right up next to where the land merged into Canada, a small neighbourhood of Houlton. Originally, Houlton was a place for agriculture, and still is as the town annually holds an agricultural fair every fall but more so in the war, the town was home to the national air base for the American Army.

Now, Darek was a family man. Family came first in his eyes, so when the government came a-knocking on his porch door, he flatly refused. His wife, Melissa cried when for the third time, he was asked to be drafted, this time, without choice. Without him, his family would really struggle. He had two boys, aged three and five and a baby girl, holding out at six months.

He was drafted for roughly three years and in that time, his family died without him by their side. A robber had broker into the house and butchered the family to death with a hatchet and suffocated the baby. At the time, it was one of the most horrid murders in Houlton history. And in that time that he came back to the time he died, Darek became a hermit. Never wanted to go outside or socialize. Why should I, He thought, when I'd rather remember my past memories then make new ones.

He died alone. It was just as the news came on his aged television set, that he suddenly had a stroke in his worn armchair. The sounds on the television were still playing, when he opened his eyes again, to see himself outstretched in the chair, like a sacrificial being.

A girl stood beside him. Or rather, a strikingly young woman who was born with a baby's cheeks. Her high cheekbones pronounced and make her eyes pop. Underneath a cast of milky white the ghosts of her iris' merged a murky blue. A blue that stared right at him with a soft smile. Underneath her army-green overcoat, she bore a red sweatshirt that had an intricate pattern of gold and red on the inside of the hood.

"Am I dead?" He asked, pointing to his body. And then, at her. "What are you doing in my house?!"

"No need to get yourself upset." She replied in barely a whisper. "I'm here to escort you."

"To where? Heaven? Hell? I killed people in the war! Will I get sent there?" He paused and his eyes widened. "Will I get to see my wife? Where is she?"

"Who knows." The woman shrugged and took his hand, leading him out of the house. She replied to him in a way that would often be regarded as foolish but Darek did not envision her in that way. She presented herself in a polite way. She felt heavenly.


~o0o~


The Chicago weather on a rough night could be down-right nasty. Rarely was it bitterly cold, and really, it wasn't the weather to be wearing jeans in. Blue was her preference shade but after appearing on a side-street, they turned into a darker colour on the edge of turning black.

She made it to the restaurant anyway, just at the time Death had agreed on. He was waiting for her at the table in the middle of the room, munching on some warm pizza.

"On time, Mercy." He said, not turning around. She flipped off her hood and shook her short head of hair, ridding it of water. "Bit wet too."

"Never been good at landings." She muttered, stepping behind the counter of the store and stepping over the random body of a dead waitress. Mercy filled a small cup of strawberry gelato . It was smooth, with red flicks of flesh mixed into the creation.

"Get a chocolate one as well."

She nodded, picking them out by smell. Mercy then waited for him to allow her to sit down at the table with him.

Mercy held the cup out to him, but he declined. "Not for me my dear, for our guest. Put it over there."

"Okay." She replied, biting into her own.

The two sat in silence with only the sound of eating and rumbling thunder to accompany their rather late dinner. Mercy liked the quiet side of Death that left her in peace. So common it was when she lived in Heaven, but on earth, it was a hard to find. There was always some sound, some distraction. Even now, there were sounds outside. It was the closest she would get, however. But her time with Death was cherished. He was a welcome companion.

Mercy's eye twitched when the sound of a door opening echoed quietly through the restaurant and footsteps etched near. A man, who Mercy had not had the pleasure to meet yet, eyed the pair suspiciously. Reluctantly, with a screwed up face, he dropped the scythe in his hand.

As it clattered on the ground, Mercy swallowed a spoonful of gelato. "How nice."

"Thanks for returning that. Join me Dean." He asked, inviting him over. "The pizza's delicious. Mercy made you some gelato."

A ghost of a smile etched onto her face and Dean, warily, walked towards the pair and sat himself down adjacent to Death. He moved his chair away from Mercy slightly to which she frowned.

"Took you long enough to find me. I've been wanting to talk to you."

Mercy nodded. "It seems everyone does."

Dean's eyebrows bent down. "What happened to your face?"

"How rude." She said, finishing her gelato. "Didn't your mama teach you manners?"

"No, she's dead."

"Oh." Mercy said innocently and put the spoon in the cup. "Ah well, that happens."

"Mercy, not now." Death hushed.

"I've got to say, I've got mixed feelings about that. About both of you. S-So is this the part where…" He coughed. You could obviously tell he was nervous and still offended by the girl's comment. "...you kill me?"

Death looked up from his pizza and not only looked into Dean, he looked into and past him. "You have an inflated sense of importance. To a thing like me, a thing like you, well….." He slurped loudly. Mercy licked her teeth, keeping her mouth shut. "Think how you would feel if a bacteria sat at your table and started to get snarky." Lightning flashed and lit up his face and emphasised his bony features. "This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you."

He served him a piece of pizza and then one for Mercy, who thanked him. He surveyed it and then addressed her. "Who are you? Death's robin?"

"Robin?" She asked. "No, I'm not a bird. I'm Mercy, if you had been paying attention. Please, eat." She gestured to his piece. "Death never shares his food. So please, eat."

Death stared him down as Dean nervously cut into the pie with a knife and fork.

"Good, isn't it?"

After sitting there, contemplating the fact that he was having dinner with Dean, Dean raised his eyebrows in a 'yeah' motion. "I've gotta ask. How old are you?"

"As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless, in the end, I'll reap him too."

"God?" He repeated questioningly. "You'll reap God?"

"Nothing lasts." Mercy whispered.

"Oh yes." Death replied softly. "God will die too Dean."

Dean struggled to take that info in. Mercy hadn't touched her piece of pie yet, but instead felt very thirsty. She couldn't see with her eyes but was getting the impression that this young man was in for something big, from what Death had said.

"Well, this is way above my pay grade. Just a bit. So then why am I still breathing? Sitting here with you, and what do you want?"

"The leash around my neck off." He leaned in, his eyes bulging. Mercy hated the time when he was locked in the ground. She was helpless. When he rose, she begged for forgiveness. "Lucifer has me bound to him. Some unseemly little spell. He has me when he wants, when he wants. That's why I couldn't go to you. I couldn't send Mercy. I had to wait for you to catch up. He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, waking the dead. I'm more powerful than you can process and I'm enslaved to a bratty child having a tantrum."

"What about you?" Dean asked Mercy. "Are you bound as well?"

"No. I am not. But I will loyally follow Death till the end, so naturally, I would too like him free from Lucifer. "

"And you think I can unbind you?"

"Dean, your ridiculous bravado again, of course you can't. But you can help me take the bullets out of Lucifer's gun." He held out a flat hand, flashing his ring. "I understand you want this."

Dean looked at it and then back at Death. "Yeah."

"And I'm going to give it to you."

"Give it to me?"

"That's what I just said."

"But what about Chicago?" Dean asked, wondering what would happen to the city with the Golden Gate bridge.

"I suppose it can stay. I like the pizza." He slipped the ring off his bony finger and handed it to Dean, who was still shocked. "There are conditions…."

"Okay, like?"

"You must do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell."

"Of course."

Death looked at him, not batting an eyelash. "Whatever it takes."

"That's the plan."

"No, your plan, not yet. Your brother, he's the one that can stop Lucifer, the only one."

Dean frowned. "What, you think-"

"-I know. So I need a promise. Dean, hold out your arm."

"What?" But regardless of his questioning, he did so. Mercy gripped his hand and burned her first two fingers into his skin. He flinched and almost swore as she retracted her fingers. Two, red lines formed on his wrist, bubbling.

"Sorry." She whispered."Insurance of a sort."

"You're going to let your brother jump right into that fiery pit." Death held out his ring. "Agreed?" He shrugged. "You have no choice now that Mercy's insured your ass."

Dean closed his eyes as he thought. Every second, every word, every memory, everything flew in his mind. His love, his loyalties. He opened them and nodded. "All right,yeah." He sniffed. "Yes."

"That had better be yes Dean. You know you can't cheat Death." He chucked the ring into Dean's open palm. His surprised face flickered as it landed. "Now, would you like the instruction book?"

And so, Death told him in detail of what to do. By the time the human left, Mercy had finished her pizza and her head was turned so that it looked like she was staring at the door that Dean had left through.

She frowned. "Since I eat at your table, am I bacteria as well?"

Death thought for a moment, finishing the last of his cola. "No," He said, after a large slurp-fest.",You're more like the puppy waiting at the table."

Mercy rubbed her face and stretched. She hated having to hide from the angels.


~o0o~


Miles away, Dean stood in the old scrap yard that Bobby had a business in, testing the four horsemen's rings. Whenever they came close together they connected. It was like they were magnetic. Old friends, not that the horsemen were.

They creeped Dean out anyway.

"How'd it go?" Bobby asked, handing him over a beer. Dean had noticed his uplift of happiness ever since he was able to walk again. "Beer's good."

"That it is." He replied, taking a sip. "What do you think Death does to people who lies to his face?"

"Nothing good. What'd you say?"

He lifted the bottle. "That I was cool with Sam driving the whole bus on the Lucifer plan."

"So Death thinks yes on the whole plan then?"

"I don't know. Probably. His groupie seems keen on it as well."

"Groupie?" Bobby asked. "Death has a groupie?"

"I wouldn't know what to call her. Her face was scarred and she 'loyally' follows Death till the end." He held up the scar on his wrist. "Burned me too."

Bobby put down his beer and looked at the red marks closer. "I'd say those look like the scar that Castiel gave you."

"You suggesting that the chick might be another fucking Angel?"

He shrugged. "How'd she look."

"Horrid. The scars didn't help her. Death said he had to wait for me to catch up instead of sending her to come find me. Too dangerous, apparently."

"They might be on our side then."

"Maybe." Dean sighed and wished silently about the future. "Guess we'll have to wait'n see."