Present 5
"So where are we going?" Sam asks, wondering what it is exactly that Dean does with his time. He remembers Tessa telling them years ago that the reapers did most of the day-to-day work. What did that actually leave for Death to do?
"I have a meeting" Dean answers.
"A meeting?" Sam wonders aloud. He tries to picture some sort of cosmic corporate boardroom with Dean in a suit, in front of a bunch of reapers, outlining his vision for the company.
"With the ambassadors" Dean clarifies without actually making anything clearer. Dean doesn't even bother to tap Sam on the forehead like Cas used to do. He just starts off walking and when Sam takes a step to follow, he finds himself stepping onto the outdoor patio of a beachside restaurant with the sun beating down on him and waves crashing in the background.
Sam looks down and finds that instead of his normal clothes, he's now wearing a retro style Hawaiian shirt and shorts. Dean's outfit has changed similarly and Sam notes that the only thing missing from their overly tacky ensembles are the flower leis. "Where are we?" he asks.
"Hawaii" Dean answers, his tone suggesting that this should be painfully obvious.
"What are we doing here?"
"I told you already, I have a meeting."
"He likes to have them in different places every time" a gruff voice explains from behind him.
Sam turns around to see another person who he hasn't seen in over a century. "Cas!" he gasps, almost not believing it. "I thought you were still in heaven."
"I am most of the time, but as Heaven's official ambassador to Earth, I'm also the only one allowed to leave." Cas walks over and takes a seat at one of the tables, opposite Dean, before turning back to Sam. "It's good to see you again Sam. How have you been?"
Sam does his best not to be thrown by the casualness of the greeting. "I'd be doing better if I understood what's going on here" he says.
Dean studiously ignores him and stares out towards the ocean, but Cas takes pity. "Once a year" he begins to explain, "Dean holds meetings with representatives from the other realms. It was part of the agreement he made with our leaders when he demanded that all demons and all angels must leave Earth for good."
Sam turns and looks at his brother. "I didn't know you'd done that."
"What did you think?" Dean asks, still not looking at him, "that all the demons just decided to pack up and leave one day?"
You did, Sam thinks but doesn't say it, then he wonders uncomfortably if Dean can read his mind. "The demons I get" he says instead, "but why force the angels out too?"
"They caused just as much trouble on Earth as the demons did" Dean answers with a brief guilty glance at Cas. "You should remember that. Besides, neither group belongs here, not really. That's why they can't even function on this plane without vessels. Everyone's better off if we all stick to our own side of the fence."
Sam opens his mouth to reply but before he can he's interrupted by the sudden appearance of a smarmy looking man in formal wear who arrives in a puff of sulphuric smoke. "Sorry I'm late" the newcomer apologizes insincerely as he pulls up a chair. Sam doesn't need to be told that this must be Hell's ambassador, he looks exactly like the kind of guy that would work for Crowley. "Who's the human?" he asks, gesturing towards Sam.
"That's Sam" Dean answers like this is all the explanation that anyone could possibly need. "Sam, this is Kipling."
"Ah the famous Sam Winchester" Kipling says, scrutinizing Sam closely. "I thought you'd retired."
"I have" says Sam, although he can't deny that being in the presence of a demon for the first time in a century is making his fingers itch for a blade.
"Enough" said Dean, "let's get on with this already." Castiel and Kipling both turn to him immediately, giving him their full attention. "We had 67 million human deaths in the last year, that's an increase of 1.2% from the year previous. Of those, 78% of the souls were claimed by Hell and the remaining 22% by Heaven."
"An unacceptable disparity" Cas comments.
"You're the ones who set the admissions criteria Cas, not me" Dean points out. "Also, in the last year, four demons managed to make their way to Earth and had to be destroyed. This is within the acceptable margin of error for containment, as per my agreement with Crowley."
"You know," starts Kipling "you'd have less of a population problem if you let more of us through."
Dean glares at him "you let me worry about the population. Your only job is to be Crowley's little messenger boy. Now, get going. We're done here."
The Demon must sense a change in Dean's mood because it's smarminess turns suddenly to fear and then it disappears.
Dean turns back to starring at the ocean.
"Are you alright Dean?" Castiel asks.
"Why wouldn't I be?"
Castiel reaches out a hand and takes hold of the chain twined loosely around Dean's wrists. "Kipling wasn't powerful enough to see this, but I am" he says. "Who bound you?"
"Who do you think?" Dean says, jerking his head in Sam's direction.
"Of course," Cas says, smiling fondly, "only a Winchester would be stupid enough to think they could get away with summoning Death." He looks between the two of them and for a moment Sam thinks he's about to say something else, but then he seems to change his mind. "I'll leave the two of you to it then" and with a flap of his wings, he's gone.
Dean finally turns back to look at Sam but only long enough for him to zap them to a new location. Now instead of a soft wood patio, Sam's feet make contact with shiny linoleum. He feels the hot sun beating down on his back and cries of pain echo from every direction, but none of these is the thing that he notices first. That would be the smell. It's the nauseating stench of decaying flesh, feces, and antiseptic. It smells like death.
