Chapter 15

Crowley dropped the three other off at the front of the nursing home, and left immediately afterwards. Willow scowled at the spot he just left, not trusting the demon to keep his word. Dean and Willow started forward, with Castiel taking the rear. Approaching the building, Willow held her hands out, "There's definitely something here. It's making me all tingly."

Castiel nodded his head in agreement, staring at the building, "Crowley did not deceive us. Pestilence is inside the building. I sense him towards the back."

Dean looked to his friend in curiously, "I thought your batteries were flat? How are you feeling the big guys mojo?"

"I still have some residual power within me, it seems. Not enough to travel or heal, but I can still sense other higher beings."

"Huh," Dean commented, continuing into the building.

"Wait!" Willow called, halting them, "This is a whole building of people. We might be able to sense Pestilence, but I'm not going to know if someone is a demon until they're pretty much on top of us. What's the plan?"

Dean shrugged, "There's no plan. We go in, we get the ring, we get out."

Willow looked shocked, "That's it?"

"That's it," he finished, walking inside the building.

Willow continued to look shocked and looked at Castiel, "No plan? It feels wrong without a plan."

Castiel nodded, "Dean tends to be," he hesitated, searching for the right word, "unconventional." He soon followed after Dean, with Willow trailing along muttering about plans.

Entering the building, they found less people than they expected, only a sole guard. Dean approached him, looking around cautiously, "Hey. Hi. Uh, I'm looking for my Nana. Uh, her name is Eunice Kennedy.

"Go around front and see the nurse," The guard replied, not seeming impressed.

"You mind just helping me out, sir? Uh, she's about, uh, about that small and gray hair, wears diapers." Before the guard had a chance to reply, Dean knocked him out.

Willow looked at the guard in concern, but quickly surveyed their surroundings, "So, what are w-?" She trailed off as Dean started to fall asleep, "Hey!" She looked at him with worry, making him shake it off, "What are we even looking for?" she asked him, still looking at him with a furrow brow.

"Well, he's Pestilence, so he probably looks sick." He replied.

Walking towards the guard office, and looking at the monitors, Willow replied, "Everybody looks sick." She stared at the monitors, noticing one with a blur on the screen, "Hey." She said, gaining Dean and Castiel's attention

"Oh, now we're talking." Dean replied.

They started towards the room they had found on the monitor. As they walked, both Willow and Dean felt their body starting to change. They were feeling aches and fatigue they weren't feeling a moment before. Starting to cough, they came across bodies of nurses and doctors. "Must be getting close," Willow managed to say between coughs, wheezing out her words.

"You think?" Dean asked, sliding to the floor in exhaustion. He looked around and noticed Castiel was missing, shaking the fog from his head, he tried to summon the energy to call after him but failed.

"Dean?" Willow asks after him, trying to help him back up.

A nurse with pure black eyes walked out the closest room, and smiled at the two, "The doctor will see you now.

Pestilence stepped from the room, "Willow. Dean." He said in greeting. Willow tried to raise her arms to act as a conduit for her magic, but found she had no energy to do either. Pestilence smiled, "Come right in."

Pestilence walked back in the room, with Willow and Dean managing to follow, "Hmm. You two don't look well. It might be the, uh, Scarlet fever. Or, uh, the meningitis. Oh! Or the syphilis. That's no fun. However you feel right now? It's gonna get so very, very much worse. Questions?" He began to pace, as he inflicted them with his diseases. They were feeling more wretched by the second, their bodies beginning to shut down. "Disease gets a bad rap, don't you think? For being filthy. Chaotic. Uh, but, really, t-that just describes people who get sick. Disease itself, very" he searched for the right word, "Pure. Single-minded. Bacteria have one purpose, divide and conquer." He walked over to Dean, crushing his hand with his shoe, "That's why, in the end, it always wins. So, you've got to wonder why God pours all his love into something so messy. And weak. It's ridiculous. All I can do is show him he's wrong, one epidemic at a time. Now," he smiled at them, "On a scale of 1 to 10, how's your pain?"

During Pestilence's rant, Cas had managed to sneak in the room via a side door. Dean and Willow barely noticed him, laying in misery on the floor.

Sneaking behind Pestilence, with a knife raised, Castiel quietly made his way across the room. He was inches from his prey when Pestilence turned and smiled in his direction. Castiel instantly started coughing, and fell to the floor.

"Well, look at that. An occupied vessel, but powerless. Oh, that's fascinating. There's not a speck of angel in you, is there?"

Castiel quickly reached across to grab Dean's knife off the floor. Moving with a speed no one thought he could still possess, he had Pestilence's hand in his grip, quickly severing his ring and pinkie finger, gaining his ring.

Pestilence yelled out in pain.

"Maybe just a speck," Castiel replied, looking at the ring in his hand.

"It doesn't matter. It's too late." Pestilence grunted out in pain.

Later, everyone was once again gathering in the War Room, listening to Willow and Dean recall their encounter. Dean added Pestilence's ring to the other two. Only one left, he mused to himself.

"Last thing Pestilence said, "It's too late."" He said out loud to everyone else.

"He get specific?" Bobby asked.

Willow shook her head, looking concerned, "No."

"We're freaked that he might have left a bomb somewhere." Dean added, addressing everyone in his next statement, "So please tell us you have some actual good news."

Bobby replied, stoic as always, "Chicago's about to be wiped off the map. Storm of the millennium. Sets off a daisy chain of natural disasters. Three million people are gonna die."

"Huh."

"I don't understand your definition of good news." Castiel replied, just as stoic.

"Well, Death, the horseman, he's gonna be there. And if we can stop him before he kick-starts this storm, get his ring back," Bobby explained.

"Yeah, you make it sound so easy," Dean replied dryly.

"Hell, I'm just trying to put a spin on it."

Sam crinkled his brow, "Well, Bobby, h-how'd you put all this together, anyways?"

"I had, you know...Help." He replied evasively.

Crowley strode into the war room, shocking Dean and Willow with his entry. Xander leaned over, and murmured, "He's been here the whole time. We don't know why, but we figured it was best to keep him under our noses anyway." They discreetly nodded in agreement.

"Don't be so modest. I barely helped at all. Hello, boys. Pleasure, et cetera. Go ahead. Tell them. There's no shame in it."

"Bobby? Tell us what?"

Bobby looked on slightly ashamed as he explained, "World's gonna end. Seems stupid to get all precious over one little soul."

"You sold your soul?" Dean practically shouted.

"Well, I guess we know why he was hanging around," He heard Willow murmur beside him.

"Oh, more like pawned it. I fully intend to give it back." Crowley replied, taking a seat at the table.

"Well, then give it back!"

"I will."

"Now!"

From across the table, Dawn spoke up, "Did you kiss him? I mean that's how the deal works right, you kiss him."

Dean was shock and disgusted at the thought, "Dawn!"

"What! I'm just wondering!"

Bobby was becoming embarrassed and angry, "No!" he yelled. His protests were quieted when Crowley held out a phone, with a picture of Crowley and Bobby kissing. "Why'd you take a picture?"

"Why do you have to use tongue?" Crowley replied, making Dawn burst out in laughter.

Dean had become more agitated, "All right. You know what? I'm sick of this. Give him his soul back now."

"I'm sorry. I can't."

"Can't or won't?" Dean asked between gritted teeth.

"I won't, all right? It's insurance."

"What are you talking about?" Dean demanded.

"You kill demons. Gigantor over there has a temper issue about it," he waved to Sam and continued, "But you won't kill me, as long as I have that soul in the deposit box."

"You son of a bitch."

"I'll return it. After all this is over, and I can walk safely away. Do we all understand each other?"

Dean stared him down, imaging what it would be like to be able to blow the demon up with his mind.

Bobby sighed, "Dean, don't you think this is something that can wait?"

Dean scoffed, "Your soul? No, Bobby, I don't think it can wait," he walked over, sitting next to Bobby, "Look, I know what happens when you give your soul away. I don't want that happening to ya, Bobby."

Bobby's eyes softened, "It won't, son, don't you worry about it. We'll stop Lucifer, get your girl, and then we'll worry about getting my soul back."

"And, scene," Crowley commented, moving closer to them, "there's something you need to see." He handed a newspaper to Sam.

Sam read aloud, "Niveus pharmaceuticals is rushing delivery of its new swine-flu vaccine to "stem the tide of the unprecedented outbreak." Uh, shipments leave Wednesday."

"Niveus pharmaceuticals. The lackey I got Pestilence's location from, he was the V.P. of distribution," Crowley explained.

"So, pestilence," Dean started.

"Was spreading swine flu," Sam finished.

Dean nodded, "yeah, but not just for giggles. That was step one. Step two is the vaccine. And you think-"

"I know. I'll stake my reputation - That vaccine is chock-full of grade-a, farm-fresh croatoan virus," Crowley answered.

"Simultaneous, countrywide distribution. It's quite a plan," Sam commented.

"They don't get to be horsemen for nothing. So, you boys better stock up on, well, everything. This time next Thursday, we'll all be living in zombieland."

With a sigh, Dean nodded, glaring at Crowley.

"Now, don't be like that. I brought you a gift," Crowley said, a smarmy smile plastered on his face.

"I think I've had enough of your gifts," Dean replied, spitting out the last word in disdain.

"You'll want this one," He pulled out a small scythe, and handed it to Dean, "Death's own. Kills, golly, demons and angels and reapers and, rumour has it, the very thing itself."

"How did you get that?" Castiel asked, leaning forward in interest.

"Hello -king of the crossroads. So, shall we? Bobby, you just gonna sit there?" He asked Bobby, facing him directly.

"No, I'm gonna riverdance." Bobby replied sarcastically.

"I suppose if you want to impress the ladies. Bobby, Bobby, Bobby. Really wasted that crossroads deal. Fact - you get more if you phrase it properly. So, I took the liberty of adding a teeny little sub-a clause on your behalf. What can I say? I'm an altruist. Just gonna sit there?"

Bobby looked confused for a second, before the realisation hit him. He sat up out of his chair, "Son of a bitch."

"Yes, I know. Completely worth your soul. I'm a hell of a guy."

"Thanks."

"This is getting maudlin. Can we go?"

Dean and Willow followed Crowley from the car, walking the streets of Chicago, the energy from the city making their arm hairs stand on end.

"Hey, let's stop for pizza," Crowley drawled, "my shout," he added, with a wink in Willow's direction. She rolled her eyes in response.

"Are you kidding?" Dean asked in annoyance, his temper wearing thin. He had been against splitting up the groups, wanting to take down the virus. It was only Willow's insistence that made him agree to go to Chicago with her. Dean knew splitting up was the best option, but that didn't mean he liked being stuck with Crowley.

"Just heard it was good. That's all. Up ahead. Big, ugly building. Ground zero. Horseman's stable, if you will. He's in there."

"How do you know?"

"Have you met me? 'cause I know. Also, the block is squirming with reapers. I'll be right back." He disappeared for a moment, before appearing back in the same spot. "Boy, is my face red. Death's not in there."

"You want to cut the cute and get to the part where you tell me where he is?"

"Sorry. I don't know."

Willow interrupted, "What do you mean you don't know? You said he was here!" Dean rarely saw the red headed witch angry. If he was being honest, it was a little scary.

Crowley seemed to agree, his forehead screwing up in discontent, "Signs pointed. I-I'm just as shocked as you."

"Bobby sold his soul for this!" Dean yelled.

"Relax. All deals are soul back or store credit. We'll catch Death in the next doomed city."

"Millions, Crowley. Millions of people are about to die any minute."

"True. So I strongly suggest we get out of here."

Dean walked the other direction, opening the door to the Impala and getting in, "So, what? Call in a bomb threat? 1,000 bomb threats? I mean, how the hell am I supposed to get three million people out of Chicago in the next 10 minutes?" Dean asked, looking at Willow and Crowley for a response, but noticed Crowley had disappeared, "Come on!"

"Over there," Willow commented, pointing across the street. Crowley was pointing towards the pizzeria beside him, indicating something.

"What?" Dean asked, Crowley still pointing and speaking, "I can't hear you!"

Crowley disappeared from his spot, and reappeared in the car, "I said I found him. Death, he's in there."

"You coming, or," Dean started to ask, before noticing Crowley had once again disappeared, "not."

Willow moved to leave the car, but Dean reached over to stop here, "Look, Wil-"

"You're not leaving me behind," she stated firmly, cutting him off.

Dean sighed, "Wills, we don't know how this is going to go. We can't lose you." Willow looked like she was going to argue again, but he started speaking before she had the chance, "No, listen. I know you won't tell me Buffy's plan, but I bet you got a main role in it, don't you?"

Willow hesitated a moment before nodding.

"I thought so. Now if things go south in there, you can't be around. Buffy needs you. If you die today, she's got no hope, and I can't have that."

Looking resigned, Willow nodded, "Fine, I'll stay. For Buffy. But if things start going bad, you yell and I'll teleport you out of there."

Dean smiled, "Deal."

He climbed out of his car, slowly making his way into the pizzeria. Entering the restaurant, he slowly pulled the scythe from his jacket. As he approached the lone figure, the scythe started to burn his hand. With a soft curse, he dropped the weapon. It reappeared on Death's table, settling beside his meal.

"Thanks for returning that," the creature commented, his voice deep and raspy, "Join me, Dean. The pizza's delicious. Sit down. Took you long enough to find me. I've been wanting to talk to you."

"I got to say, I have mixed feelings about that. S-so is this the part w-where you kill me?" Dean joked, trying to lighten the tension, while taking a seat at the table.

"You have an inflated sense of your importance. To a thing like me, a thing like you, well...Think how you'd feel if a bacterium sat at your table and started to get snarky. This is one little planet in one tiny solar system in a galaxy that's barely out of its diapers. I'm old, Dean. Very old. So I invite you to contemplate how insignificant I find you." He gestured to the pizza in front of him, "Eat." He watched as Dean took a bite, "Good, isn't it?"

"Well, I got to ask. How old are you?"

"As old as God. Maybe older. Neither of us can remember anymore. Life, death, chicken, egg. Regardless - at the end, I'll reap him, too."

"God? You'll reap God?" Dean asked, shocked.

"Oh, yes. God will die, too, Dean."

Dean sat back, overwhelmed, "Well, this is way above my pay grade."

"Just a bit," Death nodded with agreement, taking another bite of pizza.

"So, then why am I still breathing, sitting here with you? Uh, w-what do you want?"

"The leash around my neck, off. Lucifer has me bound to him. Some unseemly little spell. He has me where he wants, when he wants. That's why I couldn't go to you. I had to wait for you to catch up. He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, raising the dead. I'm more powerful than you can process, and I'm enslaved to a bratty child with a temper tantrum."

"And you think I can unbind you?" Dean asked incredulously.

"There's your ridiculous bravado again. Of course you can't. But you can help me take the bullets out of Lucifer's gun. I understand you want this," Death commented, holding his hand up to brandish his ring.

"Yeah."

"I'm inclined to give it to you."

"To give it to me?"

"That's what I said."

"But what about," Dean started, indicating the impending storm.

"Chicago? I suppose it can stay. I like the pizza. There are conditions."

"Okay. Like?"

"You have to do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell."

"Of course."

"Whatever it takes."

"That's the plan."

"No. No plan. Not yet. Your brother or the Slayer. They can stop Lucifer. One or the other. But it has to be one of them."

Dean felt his temper rise at the mention of Buffy and Sam, "What, you think-"

"I know. So, I need a promise. You're going to let your brother, or your girl, jump right into that fiery pit. Well, do I have your word?

Dean seethed, but knew he had no other option, "Okay, yeah. Yes."

"That had better be "yes," Dean. You know you can't cheat death. Now, would you like the instruction manual?"

Willow paced the War Room, the Horseman rings in one hand, and a sheet of instructions in the other. She had been pacing and muttering to herself since Dean had written down the instructions twenty minutes ago.

The rest of the group were seated around the table, discussing their separate missions. After hearing their story, and sharing his own, Dean lapsed into silence, staring at the table as conversation continued around him. The chair moving beside him shook him out of his daze. Looking beside him, he saw Bobby drop into it.

"Well, how'd it go at the Rockettes audition?

"Well, high kicks, fair. Boobs need work. I walked up and down stairs all night for no damn reason. I'm sore. Feels so good, I'm scared it's a dream. But then I remember that the world's dying bloody, so, drink?" Bobby handed Dean a beer.

Dean stared at the beer, before cracking it and taking a deep drink.

Bobby looked over at Willow, who was still pacing, "He gave you the ring, and a way to use them. You think you'd be a little less glum."

Dean grunted, taking another drink of beer, and replied, "I got bigger problems now."

"Really? Like?

"What do you think Death does to people who lie to his face?"

"Nothing good."

"Yeah."

"What'd you say?"

"That I was cool with Sam or Buffy driving the bus on the whole Lucifer plan." Dean took another drink, "That I would let one of them take the dive into the cage if we get the chance."

"So Death thinks they ought to say yes?"

"I don't know. Yeah".

"Hmm," Bobby replied, sounding considering.

"But, I mean, of course he'd say that," replied in a quick panic, not wanting Death to be right, "He works for Lucifer."

"Against his will, I thought he said."

"Well, I'd say, take his sob story with a fat grain of salt. I mean, he is Death."

"Exactly. He's Death. Think of the kind of bird's-eye view."

"Seriously?" Dean asked angrily, not wanting to entertain the idea.

"I'm just sayin-"

"Well, don't. I mean, what happened to you being against this?"

"Look, I'm not saying Sam ain't an ass-full of character defects. But-"

"But what?"

"Back at Niveus? I watched that kid pull one civilian out after another. Must have saved 10 people. Never stopped. Never slowed down. We're hard on him, Dean. We've always been. But in the meantime, he's been running into burning buildings since he was, what, 12?"

"Pretty much."

"Look, Sam's got darkness in him. I'm not saying he don't. But he's got a hell of a lot of good in him, too."

"I know."

"Then you know Sam will beat the devil, or die trying. That's the best we could ask for. So I got to ask, Dean. What exactly are you afraid of? Losing? Losing Buffy? Or losing your brother?"

Dean looked down at his hands, trying to keep himself together. Buffy's absence hadn't burnt so much until this moment. She'd know what to do.

His reply was interrupted by a quick movement beside him. Willow sat down on her haunches before him, her eyes alight. "Dean! This is amazing! I've been searching for months for something to trap Lucifer, and came up with nothing, but this! This is going to work," she said with a large, bright smile, "we're going to get Buffy back. We're going to defeat the devil."

A/N:

I'm back! Thanks to all the people who have followed, favourited, and reviewed this fic since I've been gone. My exams are finally finished so I hope to get chapters out a bit more frequently than before.

Only 2 or 3 chapters max to this story, so let me know what you think!