Piper wanted a shot. She really wanted a shot, just to settle her jangling, keyed-up nerves, but she refrained. There was already one alcoholic in her marriage, they didn't need two.

The four of them were seated around Bobby's living room staring at the slip of paper Crowley had given them.

This is so stupid, she mourned.

"Well," Bobby said finally. "We've got most of this stuff, but we're going to have to make a run for a few things."

"Like?" Dean asked.

"Like 'an act of God crystallized forever.'"

Sam frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Piper sat up. "Does it maybe mean an actual crystal? Like, when lightning strikes sand at the right angle and it crystallizes into the perfect shape of itself."

Dean's eyebrows went up. "Lightning's an act of God."

Bobby pointed. "Jenga." He looked back down at the list. "All right, we need fulgurate, and we're gonna need a biggie."

"Let me guess… Rare," Dean sighed.

"Well, I found records of an auction. Winning bidder lives about nine hours from here."

Dean clapped his hands and stood. "All right, then. Let's get out there and get it."

Piper shook her head. "You guys go ahead. I've got an errand to run."

Dean frowned, and even Bobby and Sam stared at her. "What?" her husband demanded. "No. You gotta come with us."

Piper rolled her eyes and stood up. "I don't 'gotta' do anything. And if we're gonna go ahead with this stupid, awful plan, I've got a few things I need to do to try to make it as smooth as possible."

Sam was frowning now, too. "Like what?"


"Fried pickle chips?" Bobby asked dryly. "That's your big 'protection' plan?"

Piper shrugged and put the greasy bag on the little side table next to the couch in the upscale living room they stood in. "Don't look at me like that, the guy's a foodie. I'm just trying to butter him up so he doesn't leave us smears on the carpet."

"Your faith in us is astounding and humbling," Sam muttered as he walked past her and into the dining area attached to the room they were in. When he got there, he addressed the people tied to chairs and gagged, their eyes wide and panicked. "Sorry. Again. About all of this."

"Oh, okay," Piper snarked. "I'm so sorry that I've offended your delicate sense of self, Mr. Kidnapping."

Sam rolled his eyes and turned back to the area that he'd already begun to draw the symbols they'd need for the spell. Piper looked at the bound couple and winced.

"My only defense," she said gently, "is that we truly don't intend to hurt you, and the being we're summoning here has no interest in harming anyone, either."

I hope.


"You're joking."

Death looked precisely as Piper remembered him. Handsome, in a predatory, almost bird-like way. Dressed in all black, carrying a walking stick, and glaring down his nose at all of them.

Piper sighed. "I know. I'm sorry." She gestured. "I got you fried pickle chips, though. Best in the state."

When Death just stared, apparently her big strong husband got nervous.

"It's not what it seems," he blurted.

Piper rolled her eyes and Death narrowed his. "It seems like you bound me."

"… Uh, right. But for a good reason!"

"This is about Sam's hallucinations, I assume."

Piper's eyebrows shot to her hairline and her blood froze. "Excuse me?"

"What?" Dean snapped, whirling to face his brother.

"Sorry, Sam." Death sounded unconcerned. "One wall per customer. Now unbind me."

Sam's eyes were darting between Piper and Dean nervously, but he addressed the eternal being in the room. "Uh, we can't. Y-yet."

"This isn't going to end well," Death said serenely, munching on a pickle chip.

Dean took a deep breath. "We need you to kill God."

Piper closed her eyes for a beat in resignation before opening them again to see Death paused with a chip halfway to his mouth. "Pardon?" he said, just a hint of incredulity in his voice.

"Kill God," Bobby said finally. "You heard right. Your… Honor?"

Death cocked an imperious brow. "What makes you think I can do that?"

"You're the only one who can," Dean answered.

"Why should I?"

"Because… We said so," Dean said, "and you-"

"Dean," Piper said, horrified. "What the hell? We can't just-"

"Amazing."

The gravelly voice from behind them had Piper whirling to stare at Castiel, looking at then with surprise on his face.

"Cass," she breathed.

"I didn't want to kill you," the angel said, "but now…"

Dean frowned. "You can't kill us."

"You've erased any nostalgia I had for any of you."

Dean shook his head. "Death is ours. We're not gonna die, even if God pulls the trigger."

"Annoying little protozoa, aren't they?" Death said, but Piper couldn't find it within herself to look away from Cass. Death snorted. "'God?' You look awfully like a mutated angel to me. Your vessel's melting. You're going to explode."

Castiel frowned. "No, I'm not. When I've finished my work, I'll repair myself."

"You think you can because you think you're simply under the weight of all those souls, yes? But that's not the worst problem. There are things much older than souls in Purgatory, and you gulped those in, too."

The angel waved a hand. "Irrelevant. I control them."

"For the moment."

"Um, not to interrupt," Piper said hesitantly, "but, uh, what 'older things?'"

"Long before God created angel and man," Death said with the tone of someone repeating a long-learned lesson, "He made the first beasts – the leviathans."

"Leviathans?"

"I personally found them entertaining, but He was concerned they'd chomp the entire petri dish, so he locked them away. Why do you think He created Purgatory? To keep those clever, poisonous things out. Now Castiel has swallowed them. He's the one thin membrane between the old ones and your home."

"Enough," Cass snarled.

"Stupid little soldier you are," Death mused.

"Why? Because I dared opened a door that He shut?" Cass sneered. "Where is He? I did a service, taking His place."

"Service?' death asked. "Settling petty vendettas?"

"No. I'm cleaning up one mess after another. Selflessly."

"Quite the humanitarian."

"And how would you know? What are you, really? A flyswatter?"

Death chuckled. "Destined to swat you, I think."

"Unless I take you first."

Death laughed outright, and Piper wondered if she'd ever heard a more awful sound. "Really bought his own press, this one. Please, Cass. I know God, and you, sir, are no God."

Dean, apparently, had had enough. He stepped forward again, ignoring Piper's restraining hand on his arm. "All right, put your dicks away, both of you," he growled. He looked over at death. "Look, call him whatever you want. Just kill him now!"

Piper winced, he heart beating a fierce, painful rhythm in her chest. She didn't want to kill Cas, she wanted him back. She didn't want him dead, she just wanted her friend at her side again. She knew it probably wasn't possible, but she could dream.

Cass snapped his fingers, and the warding around Death vanished.

Piper swallowed hard. Definitely not possible.

"Thank you," Death said. "Shall we kickbox now? I had a tingle I'd be reaping someone very, very soon." Dean put an arm in front of Piper and started backing them away. When Death glanced at her, she could have sworn the look in his eyes was… Warm. "Not you," he said simply. "Don't worry." He turned again and picked up another pickle chip. As he did so, Castiel disappeared.

"Well. He was in a hurry." He turned to look at them again, his gaze calculating this time.

"Uh…" Dean was still backing away.

"Hush, Dean. You know, I'm not here to tie your shoes every time you trip. I warned you about those souls how long ago? Long enough to stop that fool. And here we are again with your little planet on the edge of immolation."

"Well, I'm sorry," Dean snapped. "We've been trying to save this planet, so maybe-"

"Dean," Piper said softly. She stepped up to stand in front of him, facing Death, ignoring his irritated huff. "I'm sorry," she repeated. "I know this is inconvenient."

"Indeed." Death stared at her for a long time, and she managed to hold his gaze. She wasn't particularly afraid of him in the first place, but it was nice to know she could have a staring contest with him and stand a decent chance.

Finally, he sighed. "You know, I do find that little angel arrogant."

"Great," Dean said. "Let's go with that."

Death turned to face them fully, still eating. "Your only hope is to have him return it all to Purgatory. Quickly."

"We need a door," Sam said, the first time he'd spoken since Death had appeared.

Death shrugged. "You have everything you need at that lab. Get him to return there and compel him to give up the power."

Dean was frowning. "Compel?"

"Figure it out."

Bobby held up a hand. "But that door only opens in the eclipse, and that's over."

Piper remembered the night of the eclipse and shivered a little.

"I'll make another," Death said simply. "Three-fifty-nine, Sunday morning, just before dawn. Do be punctual." Piper opened her mouth, but he held up a hand. "Don't thank me. Clean up your mess. Try to bind me again, you'll die before you start." He paused, the dropped a slow, deliberate wink at Piper. "Good pickle chips, love."

Then he disappeared.


Piper propped herself by leaning her hip against the desk Dean was working at. He swirled a tumbler of whiskey in his hand. "Want some coffee with that, handsome?"

"It's six p.m. somewhere," he said sourly, draining the rest of it. He leaned back in his chair and regarded her with hooded eyes.

"We need to get going," she said softly. "Especially if we're going to think of a way to get Cass to that lab on time."

"Don't think we're gonna be able to do that, kitten." The slur of his voice told her he'd had quite a bit of that whiskey before she'd tracked him down.

"And why's that?"

He shrugged. "Can't lead a horse to water, can't make it drink. Why fool ourselves?"

She studied him for a long moment. "You don't really believe that," she said softly, hopefully. His derisive snort killed that hope. "Dean," she protested. "Come on, we're going."

"Why?"

"Because Cass is our friend," she said simply. "Maybe he made some stupid mistakes, maybe he's buried under… Leviathans, or whatever, or maybe he's gone. But if there's even a chance that he's still down there, if he's still somewhere in Jimmy Novak's vessel, is there anything we wouldn't do to get him back?"

Dean was silent for a long, long time. "I don't know who to trust anymore," he whispered, his voice raw and honest. "You're the only one, Pipes."

She went to him, kneeling in front of him in the desk chair and resting her hands on his knees. "Talk to me, handsome."

"It's just… Cass, with lying to us, and it turns out Sam's been lying, too. How long was it gonna be before he went off again? What if he'd put you in danger? What if we'd been on a hunt? And Cass… Jesus, Cass honest-to-God betrayed us. Who do we trust? What am I supposed to believe?"

Piper took Dean's words seriously, and she thought about them for a few minutes before speaking.

"Me," she said simply.

He smiled a little. "Yeah?"

"Look, we've got a lot of good people around us. We've got a good team, but at the end of the day, it's me and you against the world, baby." She leaned forward to cup his face, gently run her thumb along his cheekbone. "If there's no one else you can trust, or believe in, you believe in me. And when I feel the same way, I'll believe in you. Deal?"

He put his hand over hers and turned his head to kiss her palm. "Deal, kitten."

"And we'll talk to Sam once all of this is over." She brightened. "Maybe Cass can repair the wall once he's better!"

Dean smiled again. "Maybe."

"Come on. Let's go."


Dean Winchester did not have faith.

He only believed in God because he basically had to, considering the angels, archangels, and Heaven he'd seen. He didn't believe in the goodness of man, or that everything happened for a reason. He didn't believe that someone was watching out for him, or for them.

Dean Winchester didn't have faith, Dean Winchester had proof.

Proof came to him in every time he was feeling hopeless or lost or betrayed, and a woman who stood shorter than him, weighed probably a hundred and forty pounds, with hazel eyes and auburn hair would smile up at him. His proof was in the ring on his left finger, and the answering one on hers. It was in the touch of her hand, the press of her lips against his.

Dean Winchester didn't have faith. He had proof, and that proof gave him utter belief in Piper.

Piper, he knew, had faith. She'd quietly believed in God for years before they'd had the proof thrown in their faces. She believed in basic humanity, and she believed in each of their friends and family. It made her a beautiful soul, a shining beacon of everything good.

Unfortunately, it also made her believe in Cass.

Maybe Cass would come through, Dean thought as they drove toward the lab again. He didn't think so, he thought Cass was going to fuck them over again, but maybe Cass would surprise him.

But if the angel disappointed Piper again, well.

May God have mercy on your soul, Dean thought grimly.


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