Pestilence and Death looked at War with the same expression as their sister had. Except, Death actually had the courage to walk up in front of War and thump him on the forehead. Pestilence put on a smug look as this occurred, suppressing the strong urge to proclaim 'Should have had a V8'.
"How the hell did you let that happen?!" Death yelled at his brother. "You weren't just born yesterday! At of all the people I know, and I know a lot, you would be the last person on my list to let the most important thing you own be stolen by two meek mud-monkeys!" he said, looking like he wanted to strangle War right then and there.
Famine made a sucking sound with her teeth and bottom lip. "Well, compared to most humans they aren't that meek…" she confessed sheepishly. In return, she received a sharp, staggering glare from Death.
"What happened anyway?" Pestilence cut in. "I don't think it was just sheer stupidity like Death thinks," he said, put on yet another smug expression and held up his shoulders. "Cockiness perhaps?"
War rolled his eyes irritably. He knew that his siblings would be angry with him, but he still loathed being demoralized. Still, he did his best to swallow his pride and explained to them what had happened with Dean and Sammy; leaving out the part were he told Sam whom he was. After all, he didn't want to look like a complete prideful, cocky idiot; knowing all to well that Mr. Scrooge wouldn't hesitate to tell him so.
After he was finished telling them what happened, there was a few seconds silence, almost like they were absorbing in what War had told them. "Yep, it was cockiness," Pestilence finally stated after a few moments.
"No surprise there," Famine chimed in with a flat note.
Death pressed his lips together, looking like he was using all of his willpower to not snap. "Well that's just fantastic. Wouldn't it be a delight if the Winchesters learned how to use it?" he said bitter sweetly. "They could stop the Apocalypse, heck, they could kill Lucifer if they wanted to," he continued, obviously reaching his boiling point, his face completely red.
Pestilence looked at Death nervously. "Hey, dude, calm down," he told his brother. "We can get it back. All we need to do is find Sam and Dean," Pestilence reassured him.
Death turned his head so it was facing Pestilence. "And how do you propose we do that, Einstein?" he snapped at him. "No one can find them. Not even the freaking angels," he said. Pestilence, Famine and War shared unhappy looks. Their brother was on yet another wrath rampage, hence his nickname Mr. Scrooge.
They decided not to answer their brother and gave him a few minutes to finally cool down. Once this miracle finally occurred, Death sighed, placing the fingertips of his right hand above his eyes. "Do you know who last saw them?" he asked War.
There was a few second pause as War pondered the question. "No," he answered slowly.
Death bit the side of his tongue as contemplated on what he would have to do to clean up his brother's mess. He could always ask his Grim Reapers to look for Sam and Dean, and then tell him about if and when they found them. If he did that, it would only be a matter of days, if not hours, before knowing their location. In the mean time, he could prepare for what he wanted to do for the Apocalypse.
When his Grim Reapers came to mind, it reminded him that Alistair still didn't return the sickle he had lent him ages ago back. Damn him, Death thought bitterly, recalling when Alistair had tried to kill two of his Reapers. Sure, it was a seal that could have helped to open the Apocalypse, but really, couldn't he have tried to open up another one? After all, there were over 500 other possible seals.
Death shook his head slightly, breaking from the thought, then told his siblings what he was planning to do about War's mess. "And when I bring it back to you, I'm expecting no less than total worship," he told War earnestly, who rolled his eyes, but didn't answer his little brother.
Chiming in with a sarcastic voice, Pestilence said, "You know, in one or two days, you'll all be thanking me. Small Pox and G-"
"Hey, give me a chance too," Famine interrupted.
With a childish look, Pestilence wined, "Fine, I'll only release Small Pox." His brothers looked at each other hopelessly; sometimes they wondered if Immaturity was Pestilence's true name, and what they called him then was some sort of nickname that was formed back so that that they wouldn't remember.
"So what are your plans then?" War asked his sister.
A dreamy look graced Famine's face. "I was thinking about an overly large and extended drought," she told them. "No plants equals no food for humans or animals," she said slyly. "I wanted to see if I could cut off food trade to countries too, like the Goths did to the Romans back in the day, but I think I'll wait until you get your ring back, War."
"Yeah, it would be the more logical decision to wait," Death said, not making eye contact. "No food and no trade bundled up together makes things a hell of a lot worse," he said then looked at his watch. "I have to go if you want to get Dumb Ass's ring back," he said tonelessly then looked at Pestilence. "See you," he said to him, walked to his car and drove off.
Famine scowled. "And I don't even get a good bye," she mumbled under her breath. Knowing that out of everyone in the world, Death wasn't one anyone—except Jesus, Lucifer and the accessional angel, whom he still complains about—would screw around with. You mess with Death; he'll make you a very unhappy person to say the least.
There were a few moments of silence until Pestilence looked over at War. "You want to come with me?"