Sorry it's been so long... Having some trouble...

- Diana's POV -

I felt Sam's arm tighten around my waist as soon as he saw the car, then somehow hold me even closer to him when his dark, cold eyes fell to my face.

"We need to talk," came his slow, somewhat harsh voice. It was a cold and clipped tone that made me want to cower behind Sam like a small child.

"Diana," Dean said after a long, chilling silence, "this is Death."

"Hello," I finally managed. It must have sounded stupid, but I hadn't any idea what else to say. And there was something about this guy that put a halt on my fiery backlash. "Are you here to kill me, then?"

His head slowly, smoothly, tilted up so that he was looking down his nose at me and his pale, thin lips pursed slightly, perhaps in annoyance. "No, Diana, your death is not my objective. In fact, if there is anything I can do to preserve your life, I will do so without hesitation."

"Why?" I asked cautiously, leaning a bit more on Sam as my feet started to complain. He started to bend down to lift me, but I put my hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Because you are crucial to the maintenance of my balance," the thin man in the dark suit replied, blinking impassively down at me. "You are the only guardian of the power. No other could even hope to touch it, let alone contain it. The power must be confined."

"I can't control it," I told him, feeling my throat tighten with fear and frustration at the thought. "I can't. I wish I could, but I can't. I'm sorry. I can't help you."

"While I disagree with your use of the word can't, I understand your doubt, considering the consequences you have suffered," the man nodded, his head bobbing down and up smoothly and slowly, the way a person moves when they are confident in their power over those surrounding them. "However, I am willing to offer you an alternative to harboring the power in your soul where it may influence your mind."

"There's an alternative?" Sam hissed through clenched teeth. "Why didn't you tell us?"

"You asked me for help, not the other way around," Death replied, turning his cold eyes on Sam. "Simmer down, now. This isn't about you."

"What's the difference now?" Dean grumbled, shifting his weight as a nervous Kara picked her nails behind her back.

The cold eyes gradually shifted to Dean's scowl and the tight, pale lips pursed once more. "The difference now," he spoke icily, "is that you are not asking me for help, I am asking her for help."

"Death is asking for help?" Kara glared, crossing her arms beneath her breasts. He glanced at her briefly, before turning his back on me.

"Perhaps we should discuss this elsewhere."

"No," Sam snapped. I squeezed his arm gently, then started toward the tall, thin man. "Diana," Sam's grip on my waist tightened further. "What are you doing?"

"You heard him, Sam," I replied as calmly as I could. "This isn't about you. It isn't about any of you. It's about me. I need to make this decision." I met his eyes soberly. "On my own."

"No." He pulled me back to him, dragging my sore bare feet across the gravel. "I'm not letting you go again. Ever."

"Sam, stop it," I begged, reaching out to hold his hand. "Don't do this now. Later, fine, but not right now."

"No, Diana, I'm not letting you go," I growled, scowl set firmly. I sighed, bowing my head in surrender, then raised my eyes to meet his.

"Fine, but I need you to promise me that you'll let me make my own choice," I said, then glancing back at Dean and Kara, I added, "you too. Promise me." After a moment's hesitation, they nodded reluctantly. I turned back to Sam who was staring down at me painfully.

"I am on a schedule," came the chilling voice from behind me, with an edge of annoyance. I turned to stare at him.

"I seem to recall that you are here to ask my help," I challenged. He blinked at me, but said nothing.

I turned back to Sam and squeezed his hands gently. "Listen," I whispered, "I know that you're worried. And I thank you for that. But I need you to trust me. I meant it when I said I would fight for you. This is no exception." I lifted one hand and placed it gingerly against his cheek. "I will not leave you. I promise." After a long moment, Sam cast his eyes down and nodded, then held me close and kissed my hair before releasing me to bargain with Death.

"If I'm the only person who can guard this thing, how do you propose we move it?" I asked.

"It will always be near," he replied, raising a pale bony fist and allowing a silver circle on a delicate chain fall from his fingers. I watched the circle swing back and forth, gasping when I recognized the engraved initials.

"Where did you get that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper, eyes locked on the locket, swinging back and forth from his long fingers.

"Haven't you ever wondered exactly how long this locket has been in your family, Diana?" he asked in a gentler tone. "It is not a coincidence that you feel a deep connection with this. It has been with you all the time. A mere house fire couldn't separate it from you for long."

As I gingerly reached out to touch the silver memory that was like a lovely, faded dream, he flicked his wrist and the necklace disappeared into his palm once more. I felt my heart sink a little.

"The gods could only fit that thing into a human soul," Dean growled, "and you want to shove it into a little locket?"

"Appearances can be deceiving, Dean," the thin man said, his eyes never leaving mine. "The solution is simple. I transfer the power to the locket and you wear it."

"What's the catch?" I asked suspiciously.

"The catch, as you put it, is that you may never remove or open the locket," he warned gravely. "To open the locket would allow the power back into your soul, if not into a weaker one. To remove the locket would cause excruciating pain and, ultimately, death."

"What? Why?" Kara demanded.

"Because the locket was woven and shaped using your aura and, just before transferring the power, would essentially be lined with a part of your soul. If you removed the locket, you would tear your soul," he explained slowly, calmly, his eyes never leaving mine. "Though, this way, you would have complete control over your own body and mind at all times. In addition, you will no longer be hunted, as the power will be dormant and no longer able to be traced."

I glanced up at Sam, whose jaw muscle was spazzing again. I held his hand a little tighter.

"Will it hurt?" he asked.

"Yes, very much so."

After a long few moments, Sam turned his gaze down on me. He took a deep breath and squeezed my hand gently. "It's your decision," he finally said. I returned the hand squeeze and offered him a small smile before turning to Death once more.

"All right," I nodded. "I'll do it."

- Sam's POV -

We agreed to allow Death down into the base. Diana led us all to her room and finally opened the door to let him through. She was just about to disappear inside with him, when I put a hand on her shoulder.

"Wait." She turned back to glance nervously at me. "May I come?" I asked. "I'd like to be there for you." She smiled weakly up at me, took my hand, and we crossed the threshold together, closing the door behind us.

Death motioned to the bed and, after sitting at the head, I pulled Diana down to lie in front of me, her head on my lap.

"You'll likely want to grip or bite something," he told her, fishing the locket from his pocket again.

"In the past few days I have been stabbed, burned, whipped, skinned, and God knows what else," Diana sighed, merely reaching up to hold my hands. "I'll survive."

"Very well." Death's wiry frame perched on the edge of the bed. "Are you ready?"

Biting her lip and squeezing my hands, Diana nodded. Death clicked the locket open, placed it very gently on her stomach, then began to ease his hands into her abdomen, as though his hands were passing through her like a ghost's. As he pressed into her, a white light began to radiate from within Diana, and she began to whimper, then scream. As he dug his hands in farther, the light grew brighter, nearly blinding, and her cries grew louder. I squeezed my eyes shut, holding her in my lap, squeezing her hands in support as a few desperate tears escaped and slid down my cheeks.

Hold on, baby. I've got you. Please, hold on. Don't leave me. Please. Please, hold on...

Review, please?