I've been working on this story for about a month or more now purely for self-indulgent purposes in the bit of free time I find myself having lately. This story has just been really stuck in my head and I've been wanting to keep working on it almost nonstop. Once I reached around 40,000 words I thought maybe I'd share it instead of keeping it all to myself. It's entirely just a piece I wrote because I wanted to, so while I always love feedback and any constructive criticism, it's not a story I'm taking too seriously. I will try to update as frequently as I can-my aim is at least once a week. I'm posting the first 3 chapters all at once to give you a feel, depending on the interest level I might post the fourth chapter soon. So far I have a few chapters already written but with my schedule, it's not always feasible for me to write out a perfectly good, decent length chapter that's edited once a week. I will do my best, but I hope you enjoy!

Also: it's been forever since I've watched Supernatural alllll the way through. I'm working on watching it again through where this story picks up but I may make a few errors-I'm trying my best to avoid that! And if you haven't watched the show from Season 6 through the end, there's spoilers for sure so you may not want to read on.

Song mentioned:

Pain of Love-Whissell

Dean's face tightened with emotion as he slowly slid Death's ring back onto his finger. He'd lost the bet with Death. He probably wouldn't be able to get his brother's soul back now. He'd failed. But he still had to try something.

He fought the sting of tears behind his eyes as the reaper Tessa materialized. She was leaning against the car he'd just wrecked, arms crossed and a knowing expression on her face. He would not show her just how much he was hurting.

"I lost the bet," Dean admitted in defeat.

"Sorry about your brother," she said evenly, the expression on her face revealing nothing.

"Let's just go," he grumbled as he swiftly turned his back on her.

"Go where?" Tessa asked.

As she asked the question, Dean's mind was already racing back to the little girl in the hospital that he'd refused to reap hours earlier. In the blink of an eye they were standing outside of the girl's hospital room again.

The moment she realized where he'd taken them, Tessa asked, "What are we doing here?"

"Unfinished business," Dean answered firmly.

Tessa sighed. "It's over, Dean. You took the ring off. Besides, I thought you wanted her to make it?"

Dean's frown deepened as he remembered everything that had happened, the lives that were lost needlessly, because he hadn't reaped this girl earlier when he was supposed to.

"Yeah, well, clearly this is a lose-lose for me," Dean growled.

Resolutely, Dean made his way into the hospital room to do what he should have done before. He reluctantly placed his hand on the sleeping girl's shoulder. The reaction was instant; the machines she was hooked up to immediately began beeping. Her father, who'd fallen asleep in the chair beside her, jolted awake, frantic. He was screaming over and over for help.

Nurses began streaming into the room as the young girl's soul was now standing beside Dean and Tessa, the three of them watching the scene unfold.

"I'm dead?" she asked in disbelief. "But what about my dad?" she asked, her eyes searching up at Dean.

"He'll be fine," he answered, though not very reassuringly.

"Really?"

"I have no idea," Dean admitted, his voice pained.

"I can't just leave him," the girl pleaded. "It's not fair!"

"I know," Dean told her.

"Then why?" she asked.

He inhaled a sharp breath before kneeling beside the girl. "Because," he started, "there's just a…natural order to things."

"Natural order is stupid," she shot out.

"Well, I agree with you there," Dean admitted.

The three of them looked on for a moment longer as nurses tried to resuscitate the young girl to no avail. Eventually, Tessa grabbed the girl's shoulders and lead her away. Dean followed behind, a heaviness in his chest.

Chewing my fingernails, I stared at the laptop screen with a frown. My eyes scanned over the paragraph I'd written again, fixing a few typos I spotted as I did. My earbuds drowned out the noise of the coffee shop around me, blanketing me in soft indie folk music as I edited a paper for one of my rhetoric courses.

Mindlessly, I pulled the hand from my mouth and reached for my coffee cup. I lifted it to my lips and went to take a sip of my second latte before realizing I'd finished it all. My eyes darted down to the time in the corner of the laptop. It was nearing noon. How had I been here for three hours working on this paper and not realizing it? With a sigh I dropped my hands to the table and sized up the paper. It was finished and mostly edited. I supposed I could leave it for now and look at it again this afternoon with a fresh set of eyes.

I began packing up my laptop into my backpack but left my earbuds in. Slinging my bag over my shoulder, I grabbed my empty cup and placed it on the cart in the corner of the shop where all of the dirty ceramic mugs were collected. As I made my way towards the shop's door, weaving past the new lunch time rush of customers, David spotted me and sent a wave as he was frothing a pitcher of milk.

I paused by the counter, popping an earbud out and pausing the song that had been playing.

"Heading out finally?" he asked me.

"Yeah, I've been staring at this paper longer than I realized," I told him.

"Well I'll see you tomorrow morning, I'm taking Cam's shift," he told me.

"Presumptuous assuming I'll be here tomorrow morning," I teased him.

David dramatically rolled his eyes as he pulled the pitcher from the frother and tapped it lightly on the counter. "Girl, you basically live at Sparrow Coffee."

"Hey," I said, "I love coffee, okay? And this is the best coffee this side of the city."

David laughed. "Tomorrow?"

"Yeah, yeah," I told him as I waved him off with a laugh.

I continued my way out of the shop, popping the earbud back into my ear and turning on the music again.

Hot air hit me the moment I stepped outside. Today was a brutal summer day, nearing the mid 90 degrees. I wasn't looking forward to the walk back to my apartment, even if it was only a few blocks. I could feel the sweat already forming along my hairline and the back of my neck in the heat of the summer sun.

I followed the flow of bodies along the sidewalk, my feet walking the path I walked every day. David was right, I was always at Sparrow. Which is why I barely paid attention to my surroundings as I made my way down the second block, my mind focused on the lyrics pouring out of my earbuds.

This ain't easy/ Please believe me/I know you need me/But it's all in the pain of love.

My mouth began silently moving to the words, my eyes focused on the back of the woman in front of me. She was wearing a pretty floral sundress. My eyes darted down to my oversized tee shirt, torn skinny jeans, and dirty white and gray flats. I frowned. Comfortable was generally what my wardrobe screamed.

Even the best things/ Have an ending/ There's no understanding/ It's all in the pain of love.

My eyes darted up briefly as the throng of people continued through the crosswalk and I continued on with them.

All the roads that we've crossed/ Make sure that's the way/ You were found but I was lost.

My mouth was still moving silently to the song playing through my earbuds, but suddenly the song started to cut in and out. I frowned, pausing, my eyebrows furrowed in confusion as a few people pushed past me. I reached for my phone to check the bluetooth connection, pulling it from my front pocket. I nearly dropped it as a rough hand suddenly yanked me backwards. I tumbled into a middle aged man just as a bus came whipping down the street. I felt my breathing stop for a moment as I realized the bus had almost hit me. I took a moment to recover before pulling my earbuds out.

"Are you okay? That bus almost hit you," the man said.

"Yeah, uh, thank you," I stuttered out, still in disbelief of what had just happened.

"Sure…" the man said, his voice trailing as he eyed me with concern. "Be more careful. Those things always just speed past these crosswalks."

I nodded mutely, my mouth going dry. The man eyed me one last time before continuing on.

I took a few deep breaths before I felt my heart rate even out. As I was about to join the crowd crossing the crosswalk again, my eyes landed on a man across the street just standing on the edge of the sidewalk. He was an older, gaunt man whose cheekbones were very prominent from even this distance. He had slightly long, dark hair and he was dressed in a black suit with a long, black trench coat. Both of his hands were holding a cane in front of him as he stared directly at me. When our eyes met, he gave one single nod that was almost imperceptible.

Goosebumps rippled over my skin immediately and I felt a chill race down my spine despite the heat of the day. I glanced around beside me, checking left and right, to see if he had actually been looking at something else, but there was just the normal bustle of people along the sidewalk. I turned back and he was gone.

The goosebumps still dotted my skin.

After Doctor Robert had revived Dean, he'd gotten back to the Impala, sat in the driver's seat, and opened the multiple voice messages from Bobby. The moment he'd heard that Sam was trying to kill him, Dean had cursed, thrown the phone, and was speeding his way to Sioux Falls.

Now, Sam was handcuffed to a bed in Bobby's panic room, unconscious. Dean was rubbing at his eyes, exhausted beyond measure.

"I can't keep doing this Bobby," Dean grumbled out. "Am I supposed to tie him up every time he tries to kill someone?" He shook his head as he eyed the door. "That's not even going to hold him. He's–"

"Capable of anything," Bobby supplied in a dark tone.

Dean fiddled with Death's ring in his hands, his mind racing but coming up empty.

"What am I supposed to do here?"

"I don't know," Bobby answered Dean, sounding just as despondent.

Dean walked over to the door and peered in through the small, barred opening in the panic room's door. Sam was coming to, blinking his eyes and taking in his surroundings before realizing he was handcuffed to a small cot. His eyes then traveled to the door and up, locking on Dean's for a moment. In that moment, Dean knew he wasn't looking into the eyes of his brother anymore. He quickly slid the opening closed, cutting off his brother's line of sight before trudging up the stairs out of Bobby's basement. He needed a drink. Multiple drinks. And they needed a new plan; something had to work to get Sam's soul back.

As he made his way into the kitchen, he paused mid-step, his mouth dropping open in disbelief. Death was sitting at the kitchen table, chowing down on a couple of hot dogs. An odd smile tugged at his lips when he spotted Dean.

"Dean," he greeted pleasantly as he set the hot dog down, "join me."

Dean eyed the seat that Death had just pointed towards hesitantly before stepping forward,but he remained standing. His eyes watched as Death held up a second hot dog.

"Got these from a little stand in Los Angeles known for their bacon dogs. I brought you one."

Dean didn't move.

Death's grin faded as he set the bacon dog down, his face more serious now. "Sit," he commanded forcefully.

Tentatively, Dean pulled out the chair beside Death and sat down. Death took another bite of the bacon dog.

"Thought I'd have a treat before I put that ring back on," Death told Dean as he finished chewing.

Dean glanced down at the ring in his hand, twirling it in his fingers for a moment.

"Heavier than it looks, isn't it?" Death asked Dean, eyeing him closely. "Sometimes you just want it off, but well, you know that."

"I think you know that I failed," Dean admitted, setting the ring down onto the table beside Death. "So there." He shook his head gruffly. "I sucked at being you by the way. Screwed up the whole natural order, but I'm sure you knew about that too."

Death sat back in the chair for a moment, continuing to eye Dean. "So if you could go back, would you kill that little girl. No fuss, no stomping your feet about it?"

"Knowing what I know now, yeah," Dean admitted.

"I'm surprised to hear that," Death said as he sat forward again. "Surprised–and glad."

Dean quickly cut in. "Don't get excited."

"Today you got a hard look behind the curtain," Death continued on. "Wrecking the natural order is not quite so fun when you have to mop up the mess, is it?" Death's head tilted, taking in Dean's tense jaw and lack of eye contact. "This is hard for you, Dean. You continue to throw away your life because you've come to assume it'll bounce right back into your lap." Death steepled his hands on the kitchen table, his tone soft but the words cut the air in the kitchen. "The human soul is not a rubber ball. It's vulnerable, impermanent, but stronger than you know…and more valuable than you can imagine."

Dean caught Death's eye, taking in his words. For a moment the two sat there, eyes locked, before Death sat further upright, his tone shifting.

"So, I think you've learned something today," Death continued.

"You know what," Dean said gruffly. "I think you knew I wouldn't last a day. I lost, fine, but at least admit that this bet was rigged from the start."

Death shot Dean a sharp look. He spoke in a quiet, but severe tone. "Most people speak to me with more respect." Dean opened his mouth but Death stood abruptly and cut him off. "We're done here. Now, I'm going to head to Hell and get your brother's soul back."

Dean bolted upright in his chair. "What do you mean? I lost the bet, why would you do that for me?"

Death shook his head slightly. "I wouldn't do it for you. You and your brother keep coming back. You're an affront to the balance of the universe, and you cause disruption on a global scale."

"I apologize for that," Dean said weakly, half-heartedly. He was holding his breath, hope returning to him, as Death continued on.

"But you have your use," Death admitted. "Right now you're digging at something, and I want you to keep digging, Dean."

"Are you just going to be cryptic or…?" Dean asked.

"It's about the souls, Dean," Death told him. "You'll understand when you need to."

"How sure are you the wall in Sam's head is really going to work?" Dean asked Death as he saw him pick up the ring.

"Call it seventy-five percent," Death answered. His eyes narrowed as he held the ring just near his finger, pausing. "There is…one thing."

Dean let out a deep exhale. Of course there were strings.

"What?" Dean shot out a little roughly.

Death shot him a reprimanding look before continuing. "As you've learned today, there is a natural order to the way the universe works."

"Yeah?" Dean asked when Death didn't continue.

"I will pull your brother's soul from Hell and put it back, with the wall, but there is just one little price to pay to keep the natural order."

Dean's eyes shut tight as he asked, "What is it?"

"A soul…for a soul. So to speak," Death answered.

"Mine?" Dean asked, his eyes darting open.

Death smiled but shook his head. "No. I will not explain the complexities of the universe to you, Dean Winchester, frankly you couldn't possibly keep up." Dean's jaw tightened at the comment but he remained silent. "But to keep things…where they need to be, there is a soul, just one, which needs to be…" Death paused, searching for the right word, "shifted as well. As long as this soul," his eyes narrowed in emphasis "remains in this world your brother's soul will remain intact, within his body. But, shall this soul leave this world, your brother's soul will become undone. Permanently."

"So we have to keep someone alive to keep Sam's soul?" Dean questioned, his brows furrowing.

Death smiled. "I said in this world, Dean. Not necessarily kept alive."

"Who?" Dean asked.

"You will find them in three days' time. Just outside of Sioux Falls."

"That's not very helpful," Dean shot.

"You will know them when you find them," Death assured him. "Do we have a deal, then?"

Dean paused for a moment, not entirely sure what he was agreeing to, before he said, "Yes."

Death slipped the ring onto his finger and disappeared from the kitchen. Moments later, he heard Sam screaming from the basement.

Music was softly playing as I was chopping onions. I'd finished editing my paper and submitted it a bit before I'd decided to start on dinner. My mind drifted back to the incident earlier today as I absently chopped.

As the mental image of the older man across the street came to my mind, I felt something like icy fingers on my shoulders, then on the back of my neck, and I shivered. There was something else though, like a whisper of something in the back of my mind, that told me he looked familiar. I couldn't put my finger on it. Could he have been a professor? I shook my head at the thought. I don't recall him from campus. And the way he was staring at me…

The apartment door burst open and I jumped, slicing my finger with the knife.

"Shit," I muttered as I rushed to the sink and ran it under cold water.

"Oh, shit, I'm sorry Maddie," Amanda apologized as she came in. "Didn't mean to startle you. Is it deep?"

I watched the blood run down the drain for a moment. "No," I told her. "Just a knick. It's alright. I was just…in my head." I glanced at the time on the stove. "I should have figured you'd be back from class soon. How was it, by the way?"

"You know," Amanda said as she kicked off her shoes. "Banks likes to talk. A lot."

I chuckled as I turned off the faucet, the bleeding finally stopping. "Yeah, that man can spend a three hour lecture dissecting one sentence in literally any book."

A large smile spread across Amanda's face. "And that is exactly how tonight's lecture went. My brain is half dead now." She tossed her bag onto the back of our couch before raising an eyebrow at what I was doing. "Pasta night?"

I nodded. "Yeah, figured it would go good with the wine I feel like I need tonight. I was waiting for you to get back. Drinking alone just feels sad."

"Well," Amanda said, heading over to the cabinet and pulling out two wine glasses. "Let's get started on that, shall we?"

I began sauteeing the onions as she opened the wine and poured two generous glasses. She handed me one, took a big sip of hers, then set it on the counter before starting on boiling a pot of water for the noodles.

"So," Amanda started. "Why do you need the wine tonight?"

I let out a low sigh before I took a long drink from my glass.

"Eric texted me. Again."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "You're kidding, right?"

I shook my head. "I wish I was."

"Block him girl," Amanda said.

"I did last time. He got a new phone apparently," I told her. "Maybe I need a new number…"

"Maybe you do," Amanda admitted with a little wince. "This dude is reaching restraining order levels soon."

"I don't get it," I said angrily. "He ended things with me almost seven months ago now! For the third fucking time!"

"He's an asshole," Amanda agreed as she began opening the cans of tomato sauce. "He broke things off with you. He fucking cheated on you for fucks sake!"

"Yeah, and I know he's been on other dates. David's seen him at Sparrow with random chicks a few times now."

"Ugh," Amanda groaned. "Fucking musicians. You're better off without him. Besides being a lying cheat with commitment issues, dude liked the attention from his "groupies" a little too much," she said, using air quotes. "They're not even that good."

I nodded mutely as I picked up my glass to have another drink.

"So what did he want?" Amanda finally asked.

"The usual. To meet up and talk things over," I told her.

"You answer him?" she asked.

"Hell no. I feel pathetic for taking him back the last two times," I admitted.

"We've all been there, Mads," Amanda told me gently.

"On top of that, I almost got hit by a bus this afternoon," I told her.

Amanda's eyes went wide. "What?"

"My earbuds were acting up and I admittedly stopped before I'd crossed the street, or really even started to, and some guy pulled me back just in time."

"Shit, good thing you didn't make a deeper cut. Seems like you've got a deathwish today," Amanda joked.

I laughed a little half-heartedly. For some reason the man in the black suit popped back into my head, the smile on my face faltering a bit. I didn't mention him to Amanda.