"Do you even know who I am?!" The demon yelled.

"Your name is Crowley." She said staring the stout demon down. "You are the self proclaimed 'king of hell,' a simple crossroads demon, though I do believe you were dethroned by Lucifer."

He looked at her slightly unnerved, trapped in the devils trap Dean had drawn in clear matte paint on the concrete.

"Where are Moose and Squirrel? And their little angel friend, Castiel. Since when do they send little girls to do their jobs?" He asked.

She had mastered the art of cloaking her abilities long ago.

"Don't you worry about them," she said menacingly. "They are taken care of."

"So they've finally met their match, in... a five foot three waif of a girl. Interesting." She remained stoic and silent.

"What is it that you want?" He asked exasperatedly. "King of Hell here, I do have business to attend to."

"Where is he?" She asked.

"Where is who?"

"Death."

He paused for a minute, squinting at her slightly.

"Who are you?" He asked again. Suddenly he found himself pressed against the edge of the trap, lifted off the ground by at least a foot. His eyes bugged and his face reddened and she hadn't even moved a finger.

"I should kill you." She said. "There are other ways to find out where Death is, but the boys told me this would be the fastest way, and I listened to them, trusted their judgement. Maybe I can tell them you threatened them, left me no choice."

"What are you?" He gasped out.

"I am a demons worst nightmare. Now, where is Death?" She asked her eyes glowing.

"Chicago," he gasped. "He's in Chicago, massive storm, millions expected to die."

"And who has his scythe?" She ground out, already knowing he had it. She had felt it's power the second the demon had materialized.

He scrambled for his inner pocket and produced a thin and wide wooden box and held it out in a shaking hand. It then flew across the room and into her awaiting hands.

Suddenly he slumped to the ground, the only move she had made was to grab the box out of the air.

"That wasn't so hard was it?" She asked.

"What are you?"

"You will forget we even met, why should I tell you?" She asked. A delicate smug smirk on her face. With a wave of her hand he found himself alone, wondering why he was in a devils trap in the middle of Iowa.

—————

"Did you find him?" Sam asked as she appeared in Bobby's living room.

"Yes," she smiled. "He's sitting in the devils trap in Iowa wondering how he got there in the first place."

"You let him live?" Dean asked amused.

"I must admit he is good for information, and procuring rare objects," she replied as she pulled the box from thin air.

"What's that?" Sam asked.

"Deaths Scythe. We're going to Chicago."

"Death is holed up in Chicago?" Bobby asked.

"Yes, apparently he is going to cause a large storm killing millions."

"Alright then let's go gank Death." Dean said.

"I'm confused though, there's something I don't understand..." She said trailing off a look of concentration on her face.

"What's that, sweetheart?" He asked.

"Death, as a being, is usually very balanced in the way he does things. He always has a reason. It's he who can control the reapers, they work for him. Why would he suddenly kill millions of people in one fell swoop?" She said looking up to him.

"Maybe he finally feels free without the leash of hell." Sam said.

"Or maybe, he has a new type of leash..." she said quietly.

—————

"The reapers are misleading," Castiel said as they walked through the seemingly deserted downtown area. "I can feel his presence."

"I can too, he's down the street." Her eyes zeroed in on a pizza shop down the road.

"What you think he stopped by for a slice before he bulldozes the town?"

"Death is a fan of junk food," she said nodding.

"So what we sneak in the back and slice off his hand?" Dean asked.

"No, we're going to go in and talk to him."

"Excuse me? He could kill us." He exclaimed.

She looked up and into his eyes. "Do you trust me?" She asked. He firmed his mouth but his shoulders deflated.

"Yeah... yeah I trust you."

They made their way down the street and stopped just outside of the entrance.

"Let me speak to him first," she said. "Would you mind waiting here?"

He gave her a troubled look flashing back to her blood covered face but nodded, mumbling for her to be careful. She squeezed his hand before she reached for the door pushing it open and listening as the bells above her rang out.

She moved into the dining room and saw him seated at a table enjoying a slice of pizza.

"Hello, Emmuel." He said with a nod of his head.

"Hello sir," she said calmly as she walked forward and removed the box from her coat. "I believe this is yours." She set it down before him.

"You haven't changed a bit have you?" He asked with the ghost of a smile. "It's been a long time."

"Very," she smiled.

"For the record, I told that idiot father of yours it would be stupid to lock you away."

"I'm sure he had his reasons." She said.

"Have you tried the pizza here? It's quite good."

"I doubt it will be here much longer."

"I'll have you know, I don't wish for this place to be destroyed," he said raising his chin and showing her the fine chord of magic wrapped around his neck. She gasped.

"So I was right. Lucifer's leashed you."

"He has. The arrogant child he is."

"Most of them are," she said slowly standing up. "May I?" She asked gesturing to the chord.

"Can you?" He asked one eyebrow raised ever so slightly.

"I think I can." He nodded to her.

Softly she walked to his side of the table and laid a hand on his thin forehead. A glowing thread leached out of his throat and wrapped around the chord, pale green wrestling with the orange restraint. After a moment or so she saw the pale green win out, disintegrating the chord and freeing Death.

He took a deep breath.

"Ahh," he said, "much better."

Looking to her with a smile he spoke again. "I know why you are here."

"And you deserved respect that the others did not." She replied.

"My brothers can be quite full of themselves, you and I have that in common," he said as he slid his ring off his finger. She looked up to him cautiously.

"The only reason you are getting this ring, is because I want that arrogant child shoved back in his box." He said. "And... because I like you. You never expect anything in return for your kindness, and I know you are honest enough to return it. I do demand however, that you slap Dean Winchester on the back of the head for me." She heard a scoff behind her and rolled her eyes.

"You deserve it for listening in Dean," she said with a smirk.

"I wanted to make sure you were ok." He said without shame, his concern for her evident in his voice. She smiled over her shoulder at him.

"I always knew you would be the one to draw in humans."

"Why didn't you ever tell anyone of me?" She asked.

"I figured they would need a good kick in the ass one day, who better to deliver it than you?... Dean, do take care of her. I will be greatly saddened the day I am forced to reap her." She smiled gently at him. Death had been around even longer than she had, maybe longer than her Father.

"I thought angels were immortal." Dean said looking stricken.

"We are, but everything has a weakness, as we saw last week." She said as she looked calmly at Death. "I never expected to live for eternity. Thank you for the ring, it will be returned."

"I believe you," he said.

"And what of Chicago?" She asked.

He looked around the shop, "I think it can stay, I like their pizza." He said with a small smile, which she returned.

"May you have peace," she said as she took Deans hand.

"And you." Death said. He watched as the angel and the hunter disappeared and picked up a pale green feather that fell to the table. Her thanks to him.