Past 1

Everything was supposed to be fine. Normal. The Mark was gone, and with it all the anger and violence that had been flowing through Dean's system like high octane jet fuel pumped into a regular old minivan, energizing him but burning him out at the same time. It was as gone as if it had never been.

It should have been a time to celebrate, a time for Sam and Dean to catch their breath before the next freaky mess came along. The spell had gone off without a hitch (blood sacrifice notwithstanding), no side effects, no cataclysmic evil unleashed upon the world, just a quick burning pain on Dean's arm and it was over.

Cas let Rowena go. Sam and Dean drove home and almost immediately fell into their bunks. The next morning should have consisted of them sleeping in, eating a large and unhealthy breakfast, and not talking about hunting.

Dean got the first part right at least. When he finally woke up the morning after the mark was removed, it was almost 10:30. The first thing he did rub the sleep out of his eyes with his knuckles, but when he did, he felt something cold and hard against his cheek, and when he brought his hand back down he saw a ring sitting inexplicably on his index finger. There had been a time in his life when this would not have been that unusual, he'd worn his mother's wedding ring for years, before Sam pulled him aside one day and explained that he was getting too old to pull off the look. It had been years now since he'd worn jewelry of any kind, and it certainly didn't seem likely that he could have somehow put this on in his sleep.

The first thing he did, naturally, was try to remove the thing, but even though it appeared to fit him perfectly, he couldn't move it past his knuckle. The next thing he did, was examine it. It was silver, with some kind of milky white stone set in it. It looked familiar. He tried again to pull it off his finger to get a better look but again the ring wouldn't budge.

A lifetime of hunting had made Dean virtually immune to panic, but at the very least, this turn of events certainly brought up his anxiety levels. It had to be some kind of spell or cursed object that had attached itself to him. Maybe something Rowena had cooked up in revenge for being held prisoner? In any case, it was time to get Sam and hit the books.


An hour later Sam and Dean were sitting in the library simultaneously eating cereal and flipping through several large tomes on curses. Sam had agreed that the ring looked familiar but hadn't been able to place it either. They both silently hoped that this really was just a run-of-the-mill curse and not something to do with the Mark. Completely absorbed in their reading and their breakfast, they were both unaware when a figure suddenly appeared in front of them.

"Good morning" it said politely. Dean, ever hypervigilant, jumped so badly that he spilled frosted flakes on his 18th century volume of spell craft, causing Sam to glare at him.

In front of them stood a young woman with a pretty face and short brown hair. Tessa the reaper nodded respectfully at them and waited patiently while Dean attempted to mop up the worst of the milk with the sleeve of his robe.

"Tessa what are you doing here?" Sam asked, "and how did you even get in here, this place is warded against all supernatural creatures."

"Against Angels and Demons maybe, but I'm not bound by their rules. Wherever there is Death, I may enter."

"Well there is no death here" Dean growled, not liking the implications of her statement. Besides, it occurred to him that only a day ago he had killed her boss.

"Actually, that's what I'm here to talk about. See, I thought I'd save you and Sam a few hours of tedious research and just explain it to you."

"You know what this is?" Dean asked holding up his right hand.

"Yes, it's a symbol of your new station."

"My what?"

"Your new station. As Death."

As soon as the words are out of her mouth, Dean's face started getting redder and Sam's face got whiter. "That's Death's ring?" Sam asks.

"Yes" Tessa said simply.

"No, it's not" Dean argued. "I remember that ring. This one is similar, I guess, but it's not the same."

"Apparently it's adjusted itself to its new owner."

Sam turned even whiter until his complexion started to resemble the stone on Deans finger. "Are you saying that Dean is . . ."

"Dean is the new Death."

"What are you talking about, that doesn't make any sense" Dean finally protested obstinately.

"What you did yesterday" Tessa said, a hint of anger showing through her mask of professionalism, "did you think there wouldn't be any consequences? You killed Death with his own scythe, but Death must always exist. There needed to be a replacement and you're it."

"But why me?"

"I'm not entirely sure to be honest. You've worn the ring before, maybe it recognized you. Maybe that was even his intention in the first place when he made that silly bet with you, he was secretly appointing his successor. In any case, you've worn the ring, you've wielded the scythe, and now you're Death. Or this could just be some kind of cosmic punishment for killing him."

"Like in The Santa Clause" Sam mumbled.

"What" Dean barked at him.

"You know, the movie where that guy accidently kills Santa and then has to take his place."

"You're comparing this to a Tim Allen movie?"

Sam shrugged helplessly.

"So, what if I say no?" Dean asked turning back to Tessa.

"You can't say no, and frankly us Reapers aren't any happier about this than you are. So, you're just going to have to suck it up and do the job." With that said, Tessa gave a self-satisfied little nod and disappeared.


Several hours later found the brothers still sitting in the library doing research, except this time the books in front of them weren't focused on witches and curses but on Reapers and the four horsemen. Sometime around nine in the evening, Dean sighed heavily and closed his book with a slam.

"We're not getting anywhere Sam. I'm going to go for a drive, clear my head."

"Fine" Sam agreed. Dean had gotten better at the scholarly aspects of the job over the years, but he still didn't have the same tolerance for sitting still for hours that Sam had developed at university.

Sam was flipping through Revelations when he heard a rather unmanly shriek come from the garage and rushed to see what had happened. Dean was standing in the door of the bunker's garage staring at the place where he usually parked the Impala, where another car was currently parked in its place. At least at first Sam thought it was another car, but when he looked a little closer, he recognized its sleek shape and leather seats. It was the Impala alright, except it had somehow been turned from coal black to a pearly off-white colour.

"That's it" said Dean. "They mess with me, it's one thing. They mess with my Baby, now it's really on."