Chicago
Oh hell no.
Dean whipped his head back toward Emma, pleading with his eyes for her to stay back. He didn't even want Emma to come to Chicago with him to face the horseman – and now he was inviting them both to sit down for dinner? No. Hell no.
But Emma was brave. Dammit, was she brave. A factor Dean would have normally swelled with pride over in any other circumstance.
"It's rude to keep someone waiting."
The words were soft and velvety – a stark contrast to the other horsemen he faced. Considering how hell-bent the others were on killing him and his brother right away, it was safe to say that this one wasn't in as much of a rush.
Dean was pulled out of his thoughts when he felt the same hand from earlier rope around his own. He was beginning to wonder if this was always going to feel like such a normal gesture – holding someone's hand. He swallowed hard as she nodded to him. They walked together, slowly, toward the occupied table.
"Sit down," Death simply said. The harsh sound of the rain falling outside filled the air. Dean pulled out a chair for Emma before he sat down himself. Death hadn't looked up from his plate yet, stabbing a piece of his pizza and eating it before he went on. "Took you long enough to find me. I've been wanting to talk to you."
Dean inhaled sharply, "I gotta say, I have mixed feelings about that."
Of course – his normal defense. Always trying to pretend things weren't as serious as they really were.
His eyes darted everywhere other than the man in front of him. "S-so is this the part where -" he cleared his throat, gripping Emma's hand a little tighter, "where you kill me?" He smiled bravely, smugly.
That's when the man before them looked up from his plate. Dean could hear Emma's breath inhale sharply, but he couldn't tear his eyes away.
Death was skinny. Too skinny. His cheekbones protruded prominently above shrunken cheeks leaving skin that concaved inward. His nose was long and bony; his lips pressed into a very tight line. His skin was worn and wrinkled. The sunken bags under his eyes a shade of purple, with pupils that bore such a lifeless void of blackness. His dark hair was thin, slicked back in a refined manor, and he wore a nicely tailored suit over his very slender body.
This should have been what Dean expected Death to look like. But seeing him right in front of him, in the flesh - nothing could have prepared him for this. Looking at him felt like death.
And having Death look at him the way he was made Dean shift in his seat uncomfortably. After a few – achingly long – seconds, Death finally looked between the couple, then back at his plate. "You have an inflated sense of your importance. To a thing like me, a thing like you, well –" he reached over and took a sip of his drink, slurping up the last of it. "Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky… This is one realm on one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. Now, I understand that the two of you may have a bit wider perspective now that you've been to two realms, but that's still barely scratching the surface." Death looked to Emma when he said that, then back to Dean. "I'm old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find the two of you."
Then he did something that surprised the both of them. He reached over and served them both a piece of pizza.
"Eat."
Emma exhaled in amusement, shaking her head. "So you're going to insult us, then feed us?" Death only continued to stare at her. She swallowed hard, then reached for a fork the same time Dean did. They each cut off a piece, then ate it.
"Good, isn't it?" Dean nodded, a bit confused. Death turned to Emma, who hadn't responded. "You don't like it, Savior?"
Her head shook, caught off guard by the question and title. "I'm just – um – I'm more of a New York style pizza kind of girl."
Death considered her, then nodded. "Fair enough," he said, cutting into his next piece.
Emma and Dean shared a look. What's happening?! they both seemed to be asking each other. Dean took a deep breath, deciding to take the lead. "Well, I got to ask. How old are you?"
"As old as God," he replied naturally, continuing his meal. He shrugged, "Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless, at the end, I'll reap him, too."
Dean's brow rose, his head leaning forward in spite of himself, "God? You'll reap God?"
"Oh, yes. God will die, too, Dean. Just as other gods have died in the other realms. Even Hades himself cannot run from his fateful demise," Death replied, looking between his guests.
"Hades? Seriously?" Emma asked.
Death nodded lazily. "Hades, Lucifer, Yama, Osiris, Hel, Yeomra, Erlik, Ogbunabali, the Mistress of Death, Davy Jones – need I go on? Every god or gatekeeper of an underworld from every realm will one day have to face me one final time. What you call the Enchanted Forest, I know well. Time and space, to me, is insignificant. Now," he glared between them, "do – you – understand?"
Dean cleared his throat, "Well, this is way above my pay grade."
"Just a bit."
"So," Dean breathed out, "then why are we still breathing? Sitting here with you?"
Emma cleared her throat, "What is it you want?"
"The leash around my neck off," Death replied sharply. Dean and Emma's brow creased. "Lucifer has me bound to him. Some unseemly little spell. 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. He made me his weapon: hurricanes, floods, raising the dead. I'm more powerful than you both can process, and I'm enslaved to a bratty child having a temper tantrum."
"And you think I can unbind you?" Dean asked.
Death pushed back in his seat, almost rolling his eyes as he shook his head. "There's your ridiculous bravado again. Of course you can't. But you can help me take the bullets out of Lucifer's gun." Death leaned against the table, lifting his right hand to reveal a ring with white square stone. Emma's head tilted as she watched the exchange. "I understand you want this."
Dean's brow rose, "Yeah?"
"I'm inclined to give it to you."
"To give it to me?" Dean asked skeptically.
"That's what I said."
Dean looked to Emma, whose mouth had dropped, speechless like himself. The ring was why they had come – it was the final piece of their chance at a victory. And Death was willing to just give it to him. Dean's eyes scanned the restaurant, a loud thunder roaring behind him. "But what about… Chicago?"
"I suppose it can stay," Death said with a slight shrug. "I like the pizza." He wrapped his fingers around the ring and slowly pulled it off. Dean heard Emma's breath hitch, as if expecting something to happen once the ring was free. But Death simply held the jewelry between his fingers and offered it to Dean, pausing. "There are conditions."
Dean blinked, "Okay, like?"
"You have to do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell."
"Of course," Dean said with a shake of his head and creased brow.
Death pressed forward. "Whatever it takes."
"That's the plan," Dean said matter-of-fact.
"No. No plan. Not yet." Dean's brow creased. "Your brother: he's the one that can stop Lucifer. The only one."
Dean shook his head. "What, you think –"
"I know. So, I need a promise. You're going to let your brother jump right into that fiery pit." Death extended his arm forward, presenting Dean with the ring. "Well, do I have your word?"
Dean swallowed, "Okay, yeah. Yes." And with that, Dean held out his hand to let Death drop the ring in his palm.
"That had better be 'yes', Dean. You know you can't cheat Death." Dean's mouth opened to respond, but he was at a loss for words. With his eyes still on Death, he felt the weight of the ring fall into his hand. Behind them, the thunder began to dissipate. "Now, would you like the instruction manual? Or shall I continue babbling about things that are above your pay grade? I would like to finish this up and maybe stop by New York for some of their pizza."
"Well, look at that. You're both still alive." Crowley greeted them, leaning against the Impala across the street.
Emma scoffed, "Don't act so thrilled about it."
Crowley smiled, "Of course I'm trilled. One step closer to winning, love. I assume you got the ring?" Dean nodded. "And Death is… alive?" Dean nodded again. "Hmm. What an interesting plot twist. Can't say I'm surprised, given your record."
"Are we done?" Emma asked, looking between Crowley and Dean. "I'd like to get as far away from that," she emphasized, pointing back toward the pizza joint, "as I possibly can before he decides to change his mind on the whole city destruction thing. And get back to my kid."
The demon chuckled, "Such motherly instinct you have. If only my own mother would have cared this much I might not be… well, talk about depressing. Now then. Back to the mothership?"
"One last thing, Crowley. We got to Death, I got his ring. Now, time to give Bobby his soul back." Dean narrowed his eyes. "Don't think I didn't forget."
Crowley sighed, "I'm sorry, I can't."
"Can't, or won't?" Dean asked, his voice growing louder as he took a step closer.
"I won't, alright? It's insurance."
"What are you talking about?"
"You kill demons. Moose has a temper issue about it. And I get the feeling Emma here wouldn't mind stabbing me a few times with that knife of yours. But you won't kill me, as long as I have that soul in the deposit box."
"You son of a bitch," Emma couldn't help but say, her face doing nothing to hide her disgust.
He sighed, "I'll return it; after all this is over, and I can walk safely away. Do we all understand each other?"
And with that he disappeared, a pissed off growl leaving Dean's lungs as he slammed his fist against the hood of his car.
Emma placed her hand on his shoulder in an attempt to ease him, but she knew the pain that came with betrayal like this. Dean took a deep breath, and gave her a reassured glance before suggesting they just get back to their family.
The dark ominous clouds were moving on, rolling out of town just as Dean and Emma were doing now. They rode in silence for about an hour, lost in their own minds as they tried to process what they'd just gone through.
"That was worse than the dragon," Emma finally said. Dean breathed out a laugh, and she saw him finally relax his grip some around the wheel. She picked up the ring, examining it in her hand and recalling the way the other three rings had reacted to its power, pulling them together in almost a magnetic manor. "At least we got that over with."
"Yep," Dean agreed, a deep sigh leaving him as he gave her a quick glance. "Of course, I have bigger problems now." Emma hummed out a question mark. "What do you think Death does to people who lie to his face?"
Her brow creased. "What do you mean? What'd you lie about?"
"When he asked if I was cool with Sam driving the bus on the whole Lucifer plan."
Emma cleared her throat, adjusting herself better on the bench seat, propping her arm on the backrest to hold up her head. "What uh – what exactly is the Lucifer plan, any how? I mean, I've been picking up pieces along the way, but…"
Dean gulped as he looked at her quickly with his eyes, his head still facing the road. He'd already told her much about the apocalypse. It still surprised him sometimes when he recalled how easy it was to tell her everything about himself the night they'd met. When he thought back to sitting at her kitchen bar, the glass of whiskey she'd poured him in his hand, the feeling of how surprisingly comfortable he felt with her flooded back. He'd told maybe a handful of people about his life – his mother dying, his father's vengeful crusade, the extent he'd gone for his brother when he died, going to hell, what he'd done in hell, and his angelic destiny. And he told everything – everything – to Emma in just a short length of time.
"Dean?" Emma asked, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He cleared his throat before beginning. "I told you about how I'm Michael's vessel, and Sam is Lucifer's."
"Right," she nodded, "and how you're both supposed to say yes to letting them take you over. Then once you do that, the apocalypse begins and they fight. Which you don't want because that means a lot of people will die. But killing Lucifer hasn't worked, which is why you needed the rings; to open his cage and throw him back in." Dean nodded as she described everything pretty much on the dot. "But what exactly is Sam supposed to drive the bus on?"
"Sam wants to say yes," he answered, "to letting Lucifer use him as a human condom."
Emma hummed, thinking about it. "And Death thinks this is a good idea?"
He shook his head, "I don't know – I guess. But I mean, of course he'd say that. He works for Lucifer."
"Well…" she said back, her head tilting as her shoulder shrugged.
"Wellllll what?"
She shook her head, "I don't know. He said 'against his will' when he talked about working with him. He called him a big baby throwing a temper tantrum."
Dean scoffed, "Well I'd say take his sob story with a fat grain of salt. I mean, he's death."
"Exactly," she responded bluntly. "He's Death. He's older than God and all that – think of the kind of view he's got. Think of the kind of information he knows."
With a furrowed brow and the corner of his mouth open, he looked over at Emma in disbelief. He shook his head, "I can't believe you're siding with them."
Emma sighed, "You know I'm not siding with them. I'm just saying –"
"Well, don't say." Dean's attention went back to the road, his grip tightening around the wheel. "It's bad enough Sam wants to do this, and now you do too. I don't need this! After everything we just went through –"
"What do you mean?"
He paused, taking a deep breath. "It was just before we took this job. I – uh. I was going through a bit of a rough patch."
"And a rough patch for you is…"
Another deep breath, this one full of guilt. "Almost saying yes to Michael."
She paused, considering what that meant. Then she did something that surprised him. She smiled softly and nodded, "Of course you did. Makes sense."
"It – what?"
She shrugged. "It makes sense you would have considered saying yes."
Dean chuckled out of confusion, shaking his head as his brow creased. "I don't think you understand what that means. I was on the farewell tour and everything. Boxes packed, will written – on napkins, mind you – goodbyes were avoided. I was ready to surrender," here he paused, his satiristic humor ceasing. "Surrender. Lay over and let those winged asshats use me as a puppet for their own war. Lay over and let them take my planet – our planet – and turn it into a wasteland because they are bored and want to watch something amusing while they walk around with their pearly gates jammed up their asses. And I was gonna sell my soul over to them with a simple yes." He glanced over to her, "That makes sense?"
Emma shrugged, a knowing smile sitting at the corner of her lips. "Yes, Dean. It does. Look at it like one of Henry's stories. According to the angels, Michael is supposed to be the prophesized hero, destined to kill Lucifer, the ultimate villain, and rid the world of evil. In any black or white situation, it makes perfect sense for anyone to back that. But like most things, it comes at a giant cost that, to people like us, isn't worth it. And the angels don't see it the same way as us. There's always a third way."
Emma paused there. Dean could see the look in her eyes and noticed where she'd picked up that last sentence from. He could almost picture Mary Margaret saying it, putting a breathless emphasis on the word 'always'. It was a hero's mantra.
She cleared her throat, her mind coming back to the conversation in front of them. "I'm just saying. It's a consideration anyone would make – especially when it's the future of the whole world you're having to think about."
A weight seemed to lift off of Dean's shoulders at her words. Dean always knew his innards were riddled with guilt. Everything always felt like it was up to him, from watching his annoying baby brother to saving the freakin' world. And when he let just one person down – he could feel that failure, that insecurity, that guilt, just add to the pile.
Even though he hadn't done it – even though his family and his obligation had snapped him out of it – the very real consideration he'd made to do it lived in his guilt. Like he'd said to Emma, the surrender. Until her reassurance, Dean hadn't realized how heavy it sat within him.
Dean took a very deep breath. "And what, you think the third way is letting Sam say yes to Lucifer?"
Emma shrugged, "I don't know. I mean, how is that any better than you saying yes to Michael?" she asked aloud, the same question he'd been asking himself since he found out about Sam's brilliant plan.
Dean shook his head. "He thinks he can out-wit the devil." Emma's brow creased, and he could feel her questioning him without even looking at her. He started to explain, "When a demon possesses you, they pretty much take over your brain, or maybe even your soul. And when they do that, they take control of your body. They can access your memories, your habits, your speech, everything. They can either keep you from knowing you're being possessed... Or worse: they can let you see and feel everything that they're making you do. But sometimes, very, very few times - people have been able to fight the possession and take back control, even for a little bit. My dad did it; even Bobby did it, long enough to keep from killing me and paralyzing himself with the demon blade."
Emma's eyes squinted, recalling how Dean had told her about Bobby's deal for the whereabouts of Death. She shook her head, "And you can't hurt them, when they're possessing someone, that is?"
"Well, there are ways. Holy water, salt, iron, certain blades and Latin incantations. But the body is different. You could stab a demon possessing a human and nothing would happen. But the minute that demon spirit exists the body, the meat suit is done for. The possession alone can be too much for some bodies to handle." Dean paused there, taking a deep breath. "And it's even worse after you let an angel in. They can fuck you up real good - I mean like brain and body completely fried for the rest of your life. It's not pretty."
"So that means Cas is possessing someone right now?"
Dean shifted in his seat, "It's an empty vessel. Jimmy, he died saving his family from demons. We uh - we weren't able to save him. And in doing so it allowed Cas to use his body indefinitely."
Emma nodded, semi-understanding all the information being thrown on her. "And what does this have to do with Sam saying yes?"
"He thinks that because Bobby was able to control the demon possessing him, he can do the same to Lucifer," Dean revealed. "He wants to say yes, take control, then use the rings to open the cage, and then throw himself and Lucifer back in the cage."
Emma's mouth hung open. "But then he'll be trapped."
"Yep."
"In the cage."
"Uh huh."
"With Lucifer. Forever."
"Now you're getting it."
Emma paused, thinking it over. "And that's what Death meant? Whatever it takes. Damn, that's heavy."
Dean breathed out a sarcastic laugh. "You think? And my idiot little brother actually thinks it's a good idea. He thinks he can beat the devil, damning himself for all eternity. Alone."
She looked at him as he spoke, understanding finally what exactly was making him so upset. "That's why you wanted to say yes," she said softly. He looked at her, his brow creased as he regarded her comment. She reached over and peeled his right hand from the steering wheel. "It's your job to save him. You can't live without him."
He swallowed hard, feeling equal parts angry and guilty over her revelation. "I'm the big brother - I'm the one who's supposed to sacrifice everything so he doesn't have to. That's how it's always been, that's how it always should be." He was growing angrier. "Why should it always be us - why should it always be my family who gets the shit end of the stick? We've protected the world enough; we've saved enough people. Why should my brother have to sacrifice himself for the planet? How come he can't have a normal life - a chance at a normal family?" He stopped and felt Emma squeeze his hand. They both knew that he was talking about more than just his brother. He sighed, "If we're the heroes, where's our happy ending?"
"Dammit, Bobby, not you too."
Dean heard Bobby sigh on the other end of the line. He was standing outside the Impala while Emma was inside the gas station. When Bobby called him, he decided it was time to fill up the tank and get a second opinion on Death's opinion.
"Look, I ain't saying Sam ain't an ass-full of character defects," Bobby responded. "But I've seen that kid save civilian after civilian, never slowing down. You should have seen him running this town while you and the Sheriff were away, fighting Evil Queens and demons and werewolves. We're hard on him, Dean. We've always been. But in the meantime, he's been running into burning buildings since he was twelve." Dean sighed, leaning against his car. "Look, Sam's got a darkness in him. I'm not saying he don't. But he's got a hell of a lot of good in him, too."
"Yeah, I know," Dean admitted, watching Emma pay for a couple bottles of water through the window.
"Then you know Sam will beat the devil… or die trying. That's the best we could ask for." Bobby paused. "So I got to ask, Dean. What exactly are you afraid of. Losing… or losing your brother?"
Storybrooke
"Regina I just think –"
"I don't need to know what you think. Last time I saw you, you practically assaulted me."
"You already know that wasn't me –"
"Save it, Dr. Hopper."
"Just consider what I've told you. I think you could really benefit from some sessions with me. If you're getting help from Sam and –"
"And why would I do that, bug? I've already had my trust betrayed by that hunter, I don't need you chirping around town –"
"I would never betray doctor/patient confidentiality –"
"Doctor? Doctor? Need I remind you got your PhD from a curse."
"Hey!" Ruby interrupted, approaching Regina and Archie on her run. "Is everything okay here?"
"Private conversation," Regina replied. "Go take yourself for a walk."
Ruby shook her head, looking to Archie to make sure everything was okay. Regina had changed, Ruby had seen it herself… but sometimes Ruby just wanted to pull out her claws and smack the witch.
"I can be trusted," Ruby heard Archie say as she began to walk away. "I assure you."
"You're lucky I've changed."
The Impala
As Dean and Emma rolled back into town, Emma couldn't help but feel a little anxious. As she'd tried to get a little sleep on the last stretch of road, she couldn't turn her brain off.
She couldn't stop thinking about how surreal her life had become. Just as she'd gotten used to the fact that she had a kid, this whole other universe was thrusted onto her lap. And then it was like she drowned in it when they were sucked into the Enchanted Forest.
Her trip had been so dense with survival and getting back to Henry, that she just kept thinking that everything would go back to normal once they got back. But here she was, driving back to Storybrooke with Death's personal jewelry and instructions on how to put the devil himself back into his Hell cage.
This was farther than she ever thought she'd have to deal with.
She had to keep reminding herself that this wasn't her battle, and for some reason that was starting to piss her off.
Dean and his lifestyle had dropped themselves in her life – in her family and friends' life. Henry had invited them to town to help break the curse, and they had. And she was grateful for them.
But now she was beginning to understand the full extent of their own war. And while she understood, she was angry he hadn't asked for any help. She wouldn't even be here with him now if it hadn't been for that demon threatening Henry, forcing Dean to bring her with him. But it hadn't been voluntary. Dean hadn't asked her or her family for their help finding a way to stop the apocalypse, and that's what was making her so angry.
She thought they'd already crossed that hurdle. She thought that she'd proven herself a valuable ally. She thought as a couple – were they really a couple? – they'd fought alongside each other enough. They'd defeated their enemies time after time. Why wouldn't he want her to fight alongside him in this, also?
But laying there in the passenger seat with her eyes closed, her anger brewing silently as she went over all this in her head, she heard Dean sigh next to her. A sad sigh, one of exhaustion – both mental and physical exhaustion.
And her anger began to subdue. She knew the answer to her own questions. He was afraid. He would never admit it, but she knew. She knew because she was afraid as well. Dean already had so much to lose – his brother, his family, the freakin' planet. And her presence, who she was to him – who she hoped she was to him – it was just another thing that he was putting in danger. Just another thing that he could lose.
She wanted to help him, she felt a responsibility to stand by his side and fight.
Just then, she felt his hand wrap around her own, giving it a gentle squeeze that was meant to wake her.
"We're back," he said softly.
She opened her eyes and saw the familiar forest of trees, the "Welcome to Storybrooke" sign lit up in the darkness. A small sigh of relief left her lungs at the thought of getting back to Henry.
A knock stirred Archie from his client log notes. He looked to the door, then back to the clock. It was nearly 9 o'clock at night. He shushed Pongo's soft growl as he stood from his chair to answer.
"Regina," he answered.
"I know it's late, but I was hoping we could talk."
Archie smiled, nodding his head as he widened the door, greeting her in. "Sure, come on in."
Pongo's growl grew louder as Regina walked into the room. He stood, barking. "Hush, Pongo. You know Regina." Archie walked over to his files, grabbing her notes. "I know how hard it is. And it's so great that you're reaching out to Sam and myself. Real change can often be a struggle."
"I couldn't agree more."
Archie turned to find Regina, her arm extended, her hand grasping around his throat. Pongo began to bark, ready to attack, when Regina used her magic to stun him. Regina rose Archie, strangling him until magic fog began to seep out of him.
Finished, Regina left the building and walked down the street. She turned down an alley and magic surrounded her. When it disappeared, Cora remained. She smiled, proud of her work.
