This is stupid.
Crowley's plan is stupid and unnecessary in Dean's books. But to Sam and Bobby? It's the best plan they have. Granted, the thought of calling Death for help hadn't crossed his mind, and for good reason too. He's already done enough, and while the invitation is still open by Death himself, Dean doesn't want to squander that trust.
But he was outvoted. By Sam, by Bobby, and by some twisted chance of fate, Crowley. Crowley and Sam have never met Death, Bobby only once, and yet that seems to be all the motivation needed to bind Death to them just for his help. He worries, for as far as he's aware, that little mirror communication trick unique to Death doesn't allow him to teleport to and fro. He can't be certain, nor does he have the means of carrying a body-length mirror with him just to try and, on the off chance it doesn't work and Death doesn't wish to cooperate, ruin their surprise. If Dean survives the night whole, he'll be thoroughly surprised.
Dean resigned, playing along with the plan of collecting all the pain-in-the-ass rare ingredients. And as if their night couldn't get any worse, Dean just had to be the one to have a gun cocked towards him by the owners of the property they broke into.
With the introduction of Dr and Mrs Weiss, the group didn't even bother with their inside voices. Getting to work quickly and efficiently as they prepped the ritual. Whilst Bobby drew up the symbols with chalk and lit the candles, Sam prepped the ingredients. In the background, Dean prepared a chair and a bag of fast food, knowing from his own personal experiences that Death loves human food, even though the being doesn't require nutrients. The taste is all that really matters to him and thus, in his own childish way of apologising, Dean personally bought him a meal-sized takeaway box, sitting within sight at the centre of the room for Death to see.
Due to his rather… unique experiences with Death, and thus being the only one out of the group who knows how to even remotely deal with the being, Dean volunteered, more so insisted, that his blood be used in the ritual. The three males avoided eye contact with the petrified Dr and Mrs Weiss, who began to whimper at the satanic display.
When Bobby began chanting, Dean took a stand by the takeout food, both of their backs turned away from the frightful couple. The room began to rumble, gradually growing in strength as books fell from shelves, lights swayed dangerously, before glass protective casings shattered into thousands of pieces against the relentless vibrations. Cracking sounded above, dust raining down upon them as the ceiling grew spider web-like cracks, groaning threateningly at the damage and weight it's undertaking.
Then, as Bobby finished, everything ceased.
Dean casted his eyes around the room, turning in his spot as he eventually left his post. There was no familiar looming black, no child-like high pitched tones or bone white cartoonish mask. Nothing.
"Ah… Hello?" Called Dean, unsteady. "Death?"
Two foam hands clapped down on either side of Dean's shoulders, causing him to sputter in surprise. Both Sam and Bobby reeled back at no doubt the looming and intimidating presence of Death, whilst Dr and Mrs Weiss let out a series of petrified gasps.
"Dean~! Dean~! Dean~! If it isn't one of my favourite little humans ~! To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure~?" Dean swallows a painful lump in his throat, trying and failing to only focus on the cheerful and carefree aspect that Death is exhibiting. After all, a cheerful Death is a pleasant Death, right?
Dean slowly turned around to face the looming figure, feeling his body minutely relax when he comes face to face with familiar monotone child-like mask. His foam hands slide away from Dean's shoulders as he turned, and slowly, he took a step back as to not crank his neck at the huge height difference.
"Sorry, Death… Ah… this isn't what it looks like."
"Oh?"
Dean faltered, stubbornly maintaining eye contact, unsure with how to further respond. Death is, funnily enough, like a landmine. Majority of the time he seems safe, understanding, content, but Dean knows better. He'd be a fool to think that Death is all sunshine and rainbows. He knows, that if they keep pushing his buttons, testing the limits, that it won't be long till that childlike mask turned haunted and angry.
Dean shivered at the thought.
"Um… Burger and fries? Best in the state!" Dean blabbered, hastily making his way past the frozen Bobby and Sam over to the takeaway he'd ordered, picking up the bag and drink before turning to Death, maintaining a strained smile as he presented his gift. Hostility and demands will get them nowhere.
"Ara~? Is that your attempt at diverting the fact that you've bound me?" Dean paused, noting the different tone to his voice. It still maintained its usual childishly-light pitch to it, and yet he somehow managed to deepen its tone into something more serious. This is new territory. And yet, Death is someone who prefers the honest truth over being lied blatantly to his face as if a mere child in comparison.
"It's an apology." Blurted Dean, forcing his eyes to remain glued to Death opposed to letting them nervously flicker to Sam and Bobby.
"Oh~? Then what is this about~?" He tilted to the side, in a manner that portrays that the ancient being is looking elsewhere. "Is this about Sam's hallucinations~?"
Dean's strained smile faltered, a frown tainting his visage as he finally broke contact, turning around slowly to face his youngest brother. Noting keenly that Bobby appeared equally astounded.
"What?"
Sam looked uneasy, nervously fidgeting in his spot in awkwardness as all eyes turn to him. He looked guilty, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, bashful yet scared of the consequences.
"Sorry Sammy~. I did warn you all not to scratch at the band aid. Putting up another wall now would be redundant and a less than stellar temporary fix. Now, If you'd be so kind~" Death held out his large foam hands, the manifestation of the binding spell glittering in a wisp-like manner, forming chains around Death's tiny wrists.
"We can't." Butted in Sam, seemingly the first to gain the courage to speak up against Death, and Dean felt himself panic. "Yet." He added quickly, noticing the rapid shift in Dean's facial expressions.
Death remained monotone, foam hands lowering as he released a steady hum in response. Gaining the courage needed, Dean took a step forward, hoping to take the attention off of Sam and onto him as he relays their true purpose.
"We need you to kill God."
Death, if possible, straightened further, yet somehow managing to have his mask loom down on them. "Ho~?"
Meekly, Bobby cut in. "Kill God." He confirmed, voice wavering minutely, though what little courage he scrounged up immediately evaporated when Death turned directly to him. "You heard right… Your Honour."
"That is quite the serious request."
"Trust me when I say I never wanted to bring you into this this way." Began Dean, once more taking a step forward. "But we're out of options."
"Why should I?"
Dean faltered, mouth running dry at the sudden and unexpected question. Why should he? To Dean it's an obvious answer why, so why ask? Does he want to hear it directly from Dean's mouth? Or did he simply wish to confirm his own theory? Perhaps dance around the issue depending on the answer he delivers. He mulled over his answer, and how, exactly, would be the best way to deliver his answer.
Then, by some stroke of luck, he remembered. Past conversations striking him with the force of a freight train.
"Because order." Began Dean, licking his chapped lips with nervousness. "You once told me, that you protect the order, right? Cas, the new God, he's threatening that very order, isn't he?" Death remained silent, as if scrutinizing him. Dean ploughed ahead. "Not much time has passed since Lucifer threatened that order, and I'll hazard a guess and assume things aren't quite back up to par, right?"
"Amazing."
Dean blanched, unable to finish his convincing speech when the painfully familiar voice announces himself directly behind him. Hesitantly, Dean turns around, frightful and uneasy when he comes face to face with Castiel's worn out vessel. It looked burned out, decaying, disease-ridden. To Dean, he literally looked like he was approaching Death's door. A funny thought given who stood in the room with them.
"I didn't want to kill you." Announced Castiel, pained. "But now…"
"You can't kill us." Voiced Dean in the hopes it'd buy them more time. It didn't work.
"You've erased any nostalgia I had for yo-"
The house rumbled threateningly with a deafening crash, a loud screeching sound accompanied by the sudden disappearance of Castiel. The lights above them swayed dangerously, and where Castiel once stood, Death now loomed in his place, giant foam hand outstretched whilst the other remain hidden in his cloak. To his left, the source of the disturbance, the wall laid crumbled and broken, a large hole embedded, showing the long trail of rubble, destruction, and torn up grass leading into the darkness of night.
"My, my~ Kids these days…" Death huffed a sigh of indignation, his once neutral mask shifting to an exasperated frown. His two large foam hands dusted each other off, turning his body towards the nonplussed men. "Although, this does pose a problem."
Dean craned forward, "Problem? What problem?" Mind still reeling at what he'd witnessed. Absolutely flabbergasted that Death had, legitimately, bitch slapped Castiel.
Death sighed once more, looking all the more like an exhausted father than an almighty being.
"His vessel is melting. If nothing is done soon he'll explode. Literally."
"I will not." All heads, minus Death, zap towards Castiel, who swayed uneasily on his feet. A large sweltering mark bruising along the side of his face and neck. "When I finish my work, I'll repair myself." Death didn't seem fazed by his sudden reappearance, and if Dean had to guess by the subtle shifts of his body, he'd hazard a guess and say Death is more curious about how long it took for Castiel to get back on his feet after the attack he'd landed.
"How naïve. Are you not aware of the ancient beings you've so foolishly consumed? Purgatory was created for a reason~"
"That's irrelevant."
"Is it? Then why are you seconds away from exploding?" Shot back Death.
"I control them." Grounded out Castiel, face neutral and monotone in an attempt to argue back.
Surprisingly, Death childishly spat in amusement, as series of "pfff!" escaping from behind his monotone mask as both foam hands came up to rest by his mask where his mouth would be located.
"For an angel turned God you really are dumb~"
Dean blinked, twice, then thrice, completely startled by the mocking tone Death practically spat right at Castiel. Castiel himself seemed equally as startled, unsure with how to respond to the ancient being who spoke so childishly.
"Wait… ah…w-what older things?" Intervened Dean, turning to Death as he maintained an appropriate distance. After witnessing how bold Death was in attacking Castiel in such a small space, Dean does not wish to get any closer in fear he'd be caught in the middle.
"Hmm~ Long before God created angels, he made Leviathans. Dangerous, immortal beasts so dangerous that God created Purgatory specifically for them. Quite amusing, I must say, but equally annoying. They had a ferocious appetite that if left unchecked they would've swallowed anything and everything."
"You…God… Created Purgatory, to lock these Leviathans away?" Muttered Bobby, blanching terribly at the thought. Dean swivelled his head, from Bobby's pale visage, to Sam's flickering nervous gaze, to Castiel attempting to maintain stance, before flickering back to Death, who even in the presence of their new God maintained an impressive bravado.
"Oh yes~ Clever little things they were~ God truly outdid himself on that one." Mused Death. "Quite foolish on your part. In your selfish quest for power you've not only endangered yourself but also the rest of the universe. Although if that was your plan all along than congrates~"
"Enough." Grounded Castiel, finally taking a stand against Death, and Dean subconsciously took another step backwards, internally grateful that Sam and Bobby picked up on his behaviour and mimicked him.
"Oh dear..." Sighed Death in exasperation, once more his mask mimicking his genuine emotions, evoking a disapproving frown.
"Why?" Challenged Castiel, taking step by step forward, slowly closing the distance between him and the ancient one. "Because I dared open a door that he shut? Where is he? I did a service, taking his place."
"Is that what you believe?"
"Yes. I'm cleaning up one mess after another, selflessly. Of course, you'd know all about the messes God made daily."
"Well of course~ We all make mistakes, myself included~ And yet, I know God and you, little soldier, are no God."
"For someone who makes just as many mistakes as him, you continue to stand in his favour."
The longer this continued, the further tense and more frigid Dean became. There were tell-tale signs that Dean has picked up with Death, that allowed him to subtly pick up shifts in Death's emotions. They were extremely difficult to notice, and rather broad in pinning down what specific emotion the being is legitimately experiencing. However, in certain situations, Dean witnessed and heard enough to make an educated guess. And right now, Death was slowly losing his patience.
Despite it being Dean who bound Death, and the lacklustre attempt at persuading him with food, he's forced to confront Castiel in a matter of minutes to do an outlandish deed. Nothing in comparison to his time bound to Lucifer, and yet the experience could only possibly be described as a slap to the face. The longer this continued, the more nervous Dean becomes for his, Sam, and Bobby's safety.
"I know God, Castiel, and you are no God." Replied Death evenly, his childish demeanour erased, leaving something rather unnerving behind. It worried Dean, borderline frightened him, because he has yet to see such a side to Death and he has no idea what to make of it. But what he can understand is the warning shivers that tingled up his spine as Death quickly lost his patience.
A tense silence stretched between the two powerful beings, and Dean swallowed his rising unease; stepping forward as he made himself known once more. A mere wrench being thrown between two opposing hurricanes.
"Alright, put your junk away, both of you. Look call him what you want, just kill him now."
Castiel slowly turned towards Dean, eyes and rotting visage piercing into his own with such unsettling force. Dean internally flinched, forcing himself to maintain posture.
Towering above Caestiel, Death sighed, mask unchanging as he raised one large foam glove above the new Gods head. Instantly, Castiel raised his own, clicking his fingers together as the transparent silvery chains bounding Death break away. All the while his gaze unflinching from Dean.
The sound was shattering in so many ways. Yet Dean was too afraid to tear his gaze from Castiel to scrutinize Death's mannerisms.
"Why, how kind~" Dean's stomach plunged at that remark. "As kind as it is, I take back nothing."
This time Castiel tore his gaze from Dean, staring intently up at Death, who in turn gazed unblinking back. "You're still very much a fool, little soldier."
Castiel regarded Death in a standoffish manner before completely disappearing. Silently yet jarring as his form vanished without the familiar sound of wings. Death didn't budge from his slightly slouched manner, as if staring blankly at the spot Castiel once occupied before gradually straightening. Slow in response yet Dean can't fathom if that's truly the reason.
Then, Death tilted his head, his mask melting to one of exasperation, like a parent watching a rueful child storm off, before gliding over to the food Dean had brought. "Children these days…"
Death sat down on the chair, bag of fast food in his lap as his large foam hands somehow managed to skilfully scoop out the fast food. Dean watched in silent fascination as Death brought the food to his mask, a soft "nomp" sounding, only for the food to disappear as if he'd consumed it through his mask.
The sight itself was a little disturbing.
Off to the side, practically facing Death across the room, Sam and Bobby stood stock-still almost similarly to deer caught in headlights. Sam motioned subtly for Dean to make the first move, his brows and eyes conveying enough for Dean to get the memo.
He regarded Death nervously, before clearing his throat. "Um…"
"Hmmm~?"
"Ah… What now?"
"What now indeed~ Quite the pickle you've found yourself in once again."
Dean sputtered silently over his choice of words, working through what to appropriately say to convey just how dire the situation is now. Though is conveying such a message really necessary? This is Death he's speaking to, and the ancient being is well aware of what's at stake.
"Why didn't you kill him?"
"Why indeed~ Though the answer should be obvious~" He replied jovially.
"Obvious?" Intervened Bobby, "Forgive me for asking, but what's so obvious that you couldn't kill the new God?"
Death remained stony silent; stoic. Bobby looked nervously to Sam, who looked equally unnerved by the sudden trance-like figure, the two no doubt wondering if Bobby spoke out of line. Dean, however, had a pretty good idea what was happening, having witnessed this at the toy store during their first meeting.
Suppressing an eye roll, Dean strolled over to Death, standing a mere few centimetre away from him.
"What's so obvious, Death?" Predictably, two foam hands landed on both of Dean's shoulders in response. Too used to his flamboyant mannerisms, Dean didn't protest when Death suddenly stood to his full height, twirling Dean around to face Bobby and Sam as he shook Dean lightly to and fro.
"Weren't you listening to our conversation~?!" His voice rose a pitch, higher and louder than normal, yet his typical childish pitch lessened whatever serious effect it was meant to have.
"Oh trust me, we were, it's just a little hard when two powerful beings are having a pissing contest in the same room." Retorted Dean. Dean lightly stumbled back further into Death when the ancient being peered over his head, seemingly stretching, as he looked at him a little too closely.
"Castiel has gobbled up all the souls in Purgatory, right?"
Dean stared, "…yeah?"
"And he even swallowed up the Leviathans, right?"
"…yeah?"
Death straightened up, two foam hands still glued to Dean's shoulders, resulting in Dean to stumble forward at the sudden action.
"And that means!?"
Sam and Bobby's gaze flickered from an exasperated Dean to a stony face Death, confusion evident clear as day.
"I'm guessing it has something to do with all the souls he's consumed?" Queried Bobby with a certain degree of hesitation.
"Bingo~! Cassie consumed all those nasty souls, but if he dies where do all those souls go~?"
Realisation dawned upon Sam's visage, his face blanching as he levelled both Death and Dean with an expression of utter disbelief. "Nowhere. The doorway to Purgatory is closed, if Cas dies then all those souls will end up here."
"CORRECT~!"
Dean ran his hand down his face, taking a few steps away from Death as weariness began to envelope his mind.
"Great, terrific! Cas is about to go nuke and the door to Purgatory is closed, that's just perfect!" Ranted Dean, back still turned to Death as he lowered his head, both hands resting on his hips; his brain straining to come up with a quick enough solution. Anything.
"Now, now, Dean, not all hope is lost!"
Dean raised his head, noting briefly that Sam and Bobby remained glued to their designated spots before turning to face the jovial entity.
"Well, what are you waiting for? An invitation?" Barked Dean, completely missing how Bobby and Sam stiffen at the use of tone. Eyes widening yet unsure as how to appropriately intervene.
"Why, the only way to save both Earth and Cassie is to have him return all the souls back to Purgatory!" Replied Death with cheer, softly clapping both foam palms together as he spoke.
"We need the door though." Quipped Sam softly.
"You have everything in that lab of yours! Simple, just bring Cassie there and inspire him to give up all those souls! Easy peasy lemon squeasy,"
"Even so, that door only opens in the eclipse. And that's over." Interjected Bobby hesitantly.
Death fell stony silent in much the same manner as previously, causing Dean to suppress an eye roll. "Death! The door!"
"I guess I'll just make another," He sighed, foam hands disappearing in the sides of his cloak. Then, he leaned over, awfully close to Dean, with much the same manner one would associate with a slinky. "Now, I won't be bound anymore, will I?" His tone is flat, and Dean uncomfortably looked away from the hollow holes of his masks eyes.
Dean forced a cheerful grin upon his lips, "Desperate times call for desperate measures."
In response, Death huffed before straightening. "Well, next time call me! You do have my number after all~" Then, he was gone, leaving a dumbfounded Sam and Bobby staring at the empty spot Death once occupied before whirling on Dean.
"What the hell Dean?"
"You have Death's number?"