Episode 7 – Little Favor

Summary: Kevin figures out the second part of the spell while Dean is gone so Sam and Kevin track him down … only to discover Dean's best kept secret. Meanwhile Metatron hears rumors about Gabriel's and Castiel's plans.

Author's Notes: So sorry for the unusually long wait! I'm extremely busy at the moment. My Muse hates me right now, fyi…

This contains one of my favourite scenes of this entire fic, just fyi! Special guest star today: Death! (oh, and Metatron but he's just annoying)

Warning for minor Dean/OMC.

And please don't google Lebanon, Kansas. It's basically a one-horse-town and there's no way there's a gay club – let alone an LGBT district – anywhere in the immediate vicinity. Thus this chapter calls for a bit of suspension of belief regarding real-life US geography.

xXx

Metatron turns the page slowly, savoring the feel of the book in his hands as a smile plays around his lips.

"I'd like to thank you again," he tells the guard; a rookie angel named Cornelius who has hardly been around for a millennium. "It is nice to have a way to occupy myself. Staring at these walls is so impeccably dull… But then, you would know, wouldn't you?"

No reaction. Not that Metatron was expecting one. Like all the other guards, Cornelius hasn't said a word. Which, of course, doesn't bother Metatron in the slightest. As long as the guards listen, everything is fine.

"It's Friday, isn't it?" Cornelius shifts almost imperceptibly, maybe holding back a nod or even an affirmative remark. Metatron sighs pointedly. "Too bad I am imprisoned. I'd love to hear what my followers have been up to."

That evokes a reaction: Cornelius' head jerks sideways, staring at him where he is sitting on the cell's cot.

"Oh yes, they are still active. Meet once a week, at minimum, since they haven't bought into Castiel's new regime." Metatron spits the name with as much venom as he is capable of. True, the angel surprised him and didn't execute him, but other than that he is nothing but a weak excuse for foot soldier of God. Castiel betrayed his kind by choosing one pesky little human over his family, an action that will come back and, what's the phrase? 'Bite him in the ass'.

"Have you bought into his regime, Cornelius? Do you believe following Castiel and Gabriel is the right choice?" Metatron sniggers mentally at the guard's futile attempts to school his features. "Or are you undecided, merely following along with the herd like angels always do?"

The silence that follows is almost too loud.

"That's what I thought, Cornelius. You have sworn loyalty to Heaven and simply went along when they swapped out senior management. But you could at least take a look at what the competition offers. Wouldn't that be more just? I'll make it easy for you, too. I will tell you the rendezvous point. It's a good deal – you get a close look at the alternatives there are, no strings attached. No need to sign a contract. If you don't like it, you can just leave, return to the status quo you didn't have any say over…"

Metatron pauses dramatically, noting the slight shift in Cornelius' stance. Almost there. "But of course if you prefer our side of things, our plans for Heaven and if you like how we intend to save humanity, you are more than welcome to stay. We always have a place for anyone who wants to join."

Cornelius doesn't answer immediately and Metatron gladly lets the silence stretch. He watches over the edge of his book how the guard grows more and more restless, clearly dying to speak up but under strict orders not to.

"What's that you're asking?" Metatron wonders pointedly. "That it's probably a trap?" Metatron fakes a gasp of outrage. "How can you say that? Haven't I always been open and truthful with you? Haven't I set forth a clear path for all of Heaven to follow? You can believe me when I say you won't be harmed if you chose to come tonight." He chuckles. "Isn't that funny? Castiel propagates free will but doesn't give you room to make our own choices. I wonder if more of us can see it, of if they are too blind to notice."

He waits a few more minutes until he draws his conclusion, enjoying how Cornelius shuffles on the spot. "Anywho, I am grateful that you listened. I can't ask more of you than to consider what I'm offering." He gives the angel the coordinates for the meet-up, repeating it twice to make sure the guard will be able to remember it.

"Your choice, Cornelius."

With a satisfied smirk that remains hidden from the angel's view Metatron returns his attention to the book in his hands.

All in due time.

xXx

Sam lands three well-timed punches then goes in for a sidekick that sends the punching bag swinging back. Sam brings his foot up as high as he can and shoves it again, pushing the bag away and ducking when it inevitably returns to him.

"Sam!"

He forces the bag to a halt with both hands. "In here!" he hollers and soon thereafter he hears footsteps and then the door opening.

"Isn't it a bit late to work out?"

"You do know that there are twenty-four hour gyms," Sam argues, hoping he doesn't sound too defensive. He can't very well tell Kevin that a nightmare woke him and now he is trying to wear himself out until he collapses onto his bed and passes out.

Fortunately Kevin drops it. "Anyway, I've got news."

"Oh?" Kevin seems grim, his jaw tense. Sam doubts they will like whatever he found.

"Yeah, second task has finally become clear. Where's Dean?"

"He's not here?"

"No. He muttered something when he went out I think, but I was too spaced out to really hear him."

"Probably gone out."

That elicits a smile. "Well, someone had to revoke his laptop privileges."

"Damn right. Come on, I'll call him."

Sam follows Kevin back into the library, picking up his mobile first and dialing his brother.

It rings twice, three times… Dean is not picking up.

xXx

Dean feels his cell phone vibrate in the back pocket of his jeans and groans, annoyed at the interruption. The groan turns into a hiss then because the guy on his knees in front of him twirls his tongue just so in that exact moment.

He is leaning against cold tiles in the back room of the club. He doesn't really see the twink sucking him off in the dim light, doesn't see a lot for that matter, but he can hear enough to be able to draw a mental map of this place, which is enough to soothe his hunter instincts while leaving himself so exposed.

His phone vibrates again. Dean rakes a hand through the guy's dark hair, keeping his grip light but the man hums around his dick so Dean takes it as encouragement and pulls harder. The guy works his tongue expertly around the crown, eventually tongues the slit, making Dean see stars for a moment.

The vibrating doesn't let up yet Dean ignores it for the time being, deciding that whatever it is it can wait twenty more minutes.

xXx

Sam ends the call with a groan. "He's not picking up."

"Is that bad?" Kevin sounds worried and Sam figures they have a right to be. Dean's gone all but MIA and isn't responding to his calls. It's most likely nothing, but still.

"Probably not."

"Want me to trace his cell?"

"You can do that?"

The look Sam receives in response has "duh" written all over it.

xXx

"Enough," Dean grunts and pulls the guy off him himself, who looks up at him with big eyes. "I promised you something, didn't I?"

Dean's voice is deeper than usual, huskier too and he can see the effect it has on the guy whose name he forgot immediately after he introduced himself. Dean pulls him up and slams him – gently, considering the actual scope of his powers – against the backroom wall. The twink's pants are already open, no doubt the guy was jerking himself off while sucking Dean, which makes it considerably easier to simply push in.

xXx

"Got it!" Kevin announces, rattling off the address while Sam grabs his jacket and together they head towards the garage.

"I'll call Cas and Gabriel, I guess they should hear it, too."

"Good idea," Kevin comments as he slides into the Impala's passenger seat.

When they reach the place Kevin traced Dean's cell to, Sam's suspicions are instantly proven. They come to a halt on the other side of the road, which is busier with late night partygoers than with cars, and Sam smirks as he takes in the club's façade.

"TRYANGLES" is written in illuminated letters above the entrance, and only the rainbow flag fixed to the "l" and blowing in the wind gives away the club's nature.

"Uh," Kevin manages after he follows Sam out of the car.

"Yeah," Sam's grin widens. He can't wait to see Dean's face when he discovers them here.

Turns out his wish is granted sooner rather than later, for just as Sam pulls out his phone to re-dial his brother, the man himself exits the club, fingers hovering over his own keyboard.

"Dean!" Sam calls out and waves him over. Dean stops in his tracks, glances up and then freezes between two parked cars. Sam jogs across the street, pulling Kevin with him.

"What the hell're you doing here?"

"Kevin figured out the second part of the spell."

"How the fuck did you find me?"

It's moments like this that confirm to Sam that it's still his brother in Dean's head, not some monster. A demon, a real one, wouldn't look so shell-shocked when found coming out of a gay bar, they'd not even care one bit. Dean, however, schools his expression is, can't hide the clench of his jaw or the worry-bordering-on-panic in his eyes.

"I traced your cell," Kevin pitches in, shuffling awkwardly from one foot to the other.

"Come on, we've already called Cas and Gabe," Sam urges because frankly, he's quite curious what the next part of the spell will be and he can't stand to see his brother so… vulnerable.

"Aren't you -?" Dean begins but cuts himself off.

"Surprised?" Sam supplies. "Shocked?" He shrugs, glancing at the club to underscore his point in the hopes that Dean will catch on.

And catch on he does, his eyes widening. "You knew? You knew that I, uh…"

"That you're playing for both teams? Or would you like me to pick another metaphor?"

His brother shrugs helplessly and Sam's grin softens into a smile in the hope it will make Dean relax.

"Dude, I've known for ages."

"Wha- Since when?"

"Remember those couple of months in New Jersey? You hooked up with that soccer player while I was sleeping? Well, I woke up and you weren't there so I went looking and saw you in the backseat."

Dean takes a moment to process the information but then he seems to remember something else for he narrows his eyes at Sam "That's why you spent the next weeks putting blankets all over the backseat before you sat down!"

Sam barks out a laugh. "Yeah, 'cause I knew you wouldn't disinfect the leather."

"I still don't," Dean smirks, and it's good – they're falling back into their regular banter and the tension is slowly seeping from Dean's shoulders. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"I figured you'd tell me when you're ready. Which, okay, was never."

All Dean does is shrug, yet it's enough because Sam can read those shrugs. Besides, Sam recalls how it was, driving around with John and listening to his not too gay-friendly comments from time to time. Sam doubts their Dad would have had a problem with Dean swinging both ways, but he had enough time to realize that Dean would have never done anything to even remotely disappoint John. Which, in Dean's world, admitting he also slept with guys would have been.

Sam derails that train of thought since it'd only serve to fuel the rage inside of him that still flares up from time to time. Instead, he throws the keys at Dean who catches them with superhuman speed.

"Come on, I know how bitchy you get when I drive your baby."

Dean only grunts in reply but the corners of his lips are curling upwards, so Sam takes it as a win.

The coordinates lead Cornelius to a bar in Wisconsin. It is crowded and thus not the best location for setting a trap. Smiting is probably off the table, then.

He enters, trying to look like he belongs, which is not something he has mastered since the fall. He discovered curiosity and an appreciation for fast vehicles during his time on earth, yet acting casual is not one of his talents. Neither is guarding prisoners, he figures.

"I know what you are looking for, brother."

Cornelius turns towards the female voice. He has to concentrate hard in order to recognize Asariel underneath her light brown hair and delicate features.

"I thought you –"

"I remained loyal."

It makes sense, Cornelius wonders. Asariel was one of Metatron's most devoted followers, yet she swore allegiance to Castiel after Metatron fell. Apparently, that was a fluke.

She leads him to the back of the establishment and a table where six others are already sitting.

"I believe you know of Neil," Asariel says, pointing towards the angel who is smiling brightly up at them. "And this is Zadkiel."

Zadkiel's vessel has a Hispanic background, broad shoulders and even in a sitting position Cornelius can see he is tall as well. From what Cornelius knows both Zadkiel and Neil went into hiding after Castiel took over. Asariel and the four others, Tennin, Sariel, Marut and Eremiel, are all happily playing the part of true believers up in Heaven while clinking glasses with Metatron's followers when no one is looking.

"We are glad you came, Cornelius."

"What would you like to know?"

Cornelius considers this for a moment, sifting through the questions he has been listing in his head ever since he left after his shift. "What is Metatron's plan? For us? For Earth?"

"He loves us and he loves humanity," Zadkiel explains. "Once he is free, we need to reclaim Heaven. Metatron will help humankind overcome their problems. No more wars, no more suffering. He cares, Cornelius."

He looks at the group dubiously yet before he can voice his concerns, Asariel intervenes.

"I know what you are thinking, brother, but our father left and he is not coming back. But Metatron would never abandon us. He will be a better ruler of Heaven than our father ever was."

Cornelius can't deny the longing that fills his chest. He has never known their father, is too young to have met him personally.

"Tell me more," he asks them, and his brothers and sisters smile.

Sam produces his keys and is about to unlock the bunker when Castiel walks over.

"You called?" he asks but Sam only motions them inside and leads the way down the stairs.

"Dean, you have glitter on your shirt."

Sam glances from Cas to Dean to the back of his black t-shirt and indeed, it glitters. Sam snorts and sees Kevin put a hand over his mouth to keep his laughter quiet.

"It wasn't intentional," Dean grunts eventually, brushing off the offensive particles and scattering them across the bunker floor.

"Were you hunting something? I am not familiar with monsters that leave behind such a sparkling substance."

"Yeah, why not, I was hunting a glitter monster," Dean mumbles and Sam is outright grinning now.

"Dean's really good at hunting those," he comments only to earn himself a punch in the shoulder. He has to bite his lip to keep himself from gasping since it actually hurt this time.

"Is this a pop culture reference I still fail to understand?" Cas asks when he notices Kevin's amused expression, though Kevin shakes his head and Dean glares at the lot of them.

"No, it ain't no frigging reference," Dean snaps, "now can we please listen to the damn prophet?"

Cas narrows his eyes at Dean and looks from him to Kevin and Sam, taking in their postures. "What happened tonight? Is there reason for worry?"

"Nope," Kevin quips, "Dean's just pissed because we found him at a gay bar and no one's shocked or throwing him out."

"Why would anyone be shocked?" Castiel asks, genuinely confused from what Sam can tell. He's even tilting his head at them.

Dean stares. Sam chuckles.

"Because it's a gay bar…?" Kevin tries and at times like this Sam remembers that Kevin never really had much contact with angels or he wouldn't try explaining what is obvious to humans and irrelevant to celestial beings.

Castiel sighs, rolling his eyes as realization dawns on him. "I still don't understand the human obsession with labels and sexuality."

"Well, gold star for you, but don't we have more important shit to discuss? Like, why's Gabriel not with you and why the hell Kevin hasn't told us about the second part of the spell yet?" Dean asks pointedly and it's really best for everyone, Sam figures, that Castiel takes the bait.

"Gabriel has pressing matters to attend to in Heaven. They are working on a larger portal to allow more Reapers to pass through with their souls. I came alone."

"Alright, so what's that tablet's got in store for us now?" Dean presses on, resolutely only glaring at Kevin and ignoring everyone else.

"It's, uh, an ingredient I figured out. It makes sense, sort of, since the original spell required Cupid's Bow, which is life-affirming, so the symmetry is actually pretty nice –"

"What is it, Kevin?" Sam interrupts, emphatically disliking the worried furrow of the kid's brow.

Kevin takes a deep breath. "We need the ring of Death."

Sam doesn't know what he expected – the horn of a unicorn? A werewolf's tooth? Crowley's underwear? Compared to any of these options getting Death's ring does seem too easy.

Dean voices what Sam's been thinking. "That's it?"

Kevin's mouth falls open. "What do you mean, 'that's it'? I'm referring to the horseman! The Death!"

"Nah, ain't gonna be a problem. Death and me go way back."

That makes Sam cough. "Seriously? You don't think he's going to be pissed at you for cheating him?"

Dean shrugs. "He'll know it wasn't intentional. Besides, if you bribe the guy with pizza or chips, he'll do anything."

Kevin looks slightly green.

"I assume we will need to summon him," Castiel finally speaks up. "Do we know how?"

Sam breathes out slowly, taxing his brain to remember. "Well, we only know how to bind him."

Castiel averts his eyes and radiates embarrassment. Neither Sam nor Dean dwells on the subject, however, and soon the angel relaxes as the moment slides past.

"So we'll need a spell. Get cracking, guys!"

"What're you gonna do?" Sam calls after his brother who is jogging down the hall and disappears behind a corner. He rematerializes next to Sam a moment later and Sam prides himself with not jumping about three feet to the side when he does.

"Gotta find a pizza place in Chicago."

"Why?" Kevin looks like he is about to get whiplash from everything that's going on.

"'Cause once upon a time Death was supposed to strike Chicago off the map and didn't because of their awesome pizza."

The prophet chuckles until he realizes Dean isn't joking at all. "Wait, for real?"

"Yup," Sam pitches in and watches as Kevin processes the information, eyes bulging out of his head for a moment, though he sobers up soon enough.

"Well, if it's so great get us some of it, too."

"Sure thing." Then Dean is gone and Sam pulls Castiel after him into the archives.

xXx

"The first step on our agenda is convincing more angels to follow us," Tenin explains. "Which is why you're here. We also reach out personally, though it is difficult to find an open ear when all the Host is used to is taking orders and not thinking outside the box."

"Well, it's difficult," Cornelius admits. "Free will is frightening."

"We understand your struggles." Zadkiel places a hand on his shoulder. "And Metatron will not let you float out in the sea without giving you guidance. He knows of our needs because he is like us, still, whereas Castiel has changed too much to be considered an angel."

"Castiel is an abomination," Marut growls, the eyes of his vessel filled with anger and loathing. "He abandoned his followers for a human. Castiel's loyalty doesn't lie with us, or with humanity. It lies with one human who died at Metatron's hand."

That catches Cornelius' attention. "Dean Winchester is dead?"

"No, brother," Zadkiel says cryptically. "His fate is worse than death."

xXx

"You found Dean at a gay bar?"

Sam knew the question would come so he can't say he's surprised. "Yeah. He wasn't answering his cell so we traced it."

"And he panicked?"

"Slightly, but yeah."

"Well, that's good, then."

Sam meets Castiel's eyes across the file cabinet. "Because it means he's not a demon yet."

"Oh, he is a demon – he has the abilities, some of the weaknesses and his true form reflects this. Deep down, though, it's still Dean."

"Yeah."

They share a smile and then return to the task at hand.

xXx

Dean touches down in Chicago and only then realizes that it's three o'clock in the fucking morning and that the kitchen – even the hole goddamn restaurant – is closed.

Fuck.

Well, time for a little improvisation.

Perfect timing, too. Dean's skin is starting to crawl. No kill in the past fifty-two hours because Crowley's insisting on simple combat training sessions before they move on to torture and Sam and he haven't found any new hunts since he ganked Mami Wata.

Dean smirks to himself and zaps inside the restaurant, looing for the employees overview.

xXx

He pops back into the bunker two and a half hours later, using the garage entrance 'cause he's carrying about ten pizza boxes. Who knew making perfect pizza could take so fucking long?

"What did you do, pluck the tomatoes for the sauce first?" Sam scoffs as he enters the main area and places the boxes on top of a bunch of old-looking books.

"Something like that, yeah. Turns out the kitchen closes at eleven."

"Did you make these yourself?" Kevin asks with a raised eyebrow.

"'Course not. Found the cook, threatened him and voilà!" He spreads his arms with a flourish, presenting the pizza as if he were some host on one of those stupid-ass food shows.

It only made him feel marginally better, though. One look at the knife and Dean's black eyes was all it took for the sissy to go pissing himself.

"We should keep them warm," Sam muses and looks towards Cas. "You think you can work some sort of spell?"

But Cas isn't listening. He's staring at Dean with electric blue eyes and an expression that stings deep down underneath layers of violence and maiming. Like he's disappointed. No, worse, actually – like he's repulsed.

Dean manages to tear himself away from the gaze as Sam asks his question again, this time with better results. Cas works some angel mojo on the food, preserving the heat like he's Harry Potter or whatever, while Dean saunters over to where Kevin is lining up candles around a sigil.

"What've we got?"

"Standard summoning spell. We found it in the files the Men of Letters have on Reapers," Kevin explains, checking the paper to make sure he got it right. The document's almost completely yellow with age, written with typewriter and drawn by hand.

Dean starts pacing since he's got nothing else to do and he wants to get this over with.

His thoughts circle back to his first meeting with Death, how he was foolish enough to think the guy could be killed with his own scythe. Seems laughable now. Dean recalls the cold panic after the weapon scattered to the floor, how in awe he was of Death. Back when he was still scared of the horseman. But when an entity like that compares you to a fly you sorta gain some perspective. And hell, Dean's bound the man and he's still swinging. Damn, he stole Sammy from right under his noses and Death didn't come after him for revenge.

So things are looking good. Dean's pretty confident that Death won't turn them down when they ask him for this favor.

"It's finished," Kevin whispers and Dean can practically smell the fear roll of him.

"It's gonna be okay, Kevin," is Sam's attempt at reassurance, not that it helps the prophet relax.

Dean's not looking at Cas, but he imagines the angel is a bit nervous too. After all Death wasn't too happy with him posing as God.

xXx

"But I heard Castiel say it," Cornelius insists. "I overheard him speaking with Gabriel – Dean Winchester is alive and helping them in their plight to reopen Heaven's gates!"

The angels around the table cast their eyes down, leaving Cornelius to look on in confusion. He seems to be missing something and he wants to know what that is.

"Dean Winchester," Asariel finally begins with a heavy sigh, "has taken the Mark of Cain and faced Metatron with the First Blade."

That detail is new. All Cornelius was aware of was that the hunter planned on killing Metatron as soon as Castiel managed to break the tablet (the Word of God, he broke it, a voice inside his head shouts every time Cornelius' thoughts stray to this particular topic).

"Metatron stabbed him before he lost his power. As far as we know," Asariel continues, "Castiel believed the man dead, yet two days later he proclaims that both Winchesters are alive and have promised their assistance. We were intrigued, so we sent Eremiel and two others to investigate."

The angel in question nods gravely. "My two companions are now dead. Dean Winchester's true form is revolting. The Mark has twisted his soul into that of a Knight of Hell. Castiel may believe he can trust the monster, but we know better."

"A demon?" Cornelius stammers. "And Castiel still -? But Gabriel -?"

"Gabriel knows of this, brother," Zadkiel is quick to add.

"Why didn't they tell us? Why are they working with him still, when he has become a child of Lucifer? Is Castiel working for the Morningstar now?!" Cornelius feels panic spread through his body, elevating his vessel's heart rate to an almost erratic pace.

"Gabriel knows and he permits it." Asariel's expression leaves no room for doubt.

"Do you see now, brother, why Castiel is not the best choice for you?" Zadkiel asks, clasping Cornelius' hand. "Do you see that you might be acting more in the interests of Heaven and our Father if you pledge your allegiance to us?"

Cornelius casts a glance at the other angels before returning his eyes back to Zadkiel. All he can see in his eyes are truth and sincerity and his words ring true.

For the first time in his existence, Cornelius, lowly angel of the Lord, has a choice to make.

xXx

Kevin recounts the spell, lighting a match once he is done and letting it fall into the bowl. It doesn't flare up like it does with Crowley's ritual but produces white smoke that dissolves after a few moments.

When Dean looks up, the horseman is standing on the podium that separates the front room from the library, looking unbothered by this turn of events but then again, the guy never had that many facial expressions.

"Hey, Death," Dean begins and smothers any other remarks once he feels the horseman's gaze on him.

"Do you really think it wise to 'hey, Death' me, Dean?"

He swallows thickly. Maybe he should've aimed for a bit more humility after all.

Just then, Death squints, the twitch of his eyes barely noticeable, and Dean instinctively knows that he is looking at his true form now.

"This is marginally interesting."

"Yeah, I, uh, leveled up," Dean explains a bit awkwardly.

"You cheated me once again. I do not like being cheated." Death's gaze doesn't flicker towards Sammy but it doesn't have to. Dean hears him loud and clear.

"Not on purpose! I was fully prepared to kick the bucket, man, but the damn Mark wouldn't let me."

Death considers him and like every time, Dean has the distinct impression that he's being put under a microscope or that Death's got x-ray vision or some shit like it and can see right through Dean and his bone marrow as well.

A tense silence fills the bunker until Death sighs softly.

"I doubt you summoned me simply to catch up? I'm certain your little brains remember that I have things of greater importance on my mind than your petty lives."

"Uh, yeah." Dean licks his lips, all bravado forgotten. Death never fails to make him feel like a petulant child that's been called into the principal's office.

"We brought you here 'cause we've got a favor to ask."

Death seems unimpressed, not even raises an eyebrow. He does, however, look around the room, taking in the rest: Sam's calm demeanor, Kevin's barely-there tremble and Cas. Suddenly, Death's expression darkens. He probably figured it out already.

"And who will lead Heaven, once you have reopened it?"

Yep. Of course Death would get it in one.

"Not me," Cas is quick to reply. "I learnt my lesson."

Death doesn't answer immediately and Dean feels a chill creep up his spine at how intense the Reaper's focus on the angel is, how… grim he looks.

"Unfortunately, I did not reap you like I wanted to," Death tells Cas whose eyes widen at the cold tone. "But your grace is burning low and once you use up the rest, you will be nothing more than a meager human. Your time will come, Castiel, and I will gladly take you from this world once it does."

The silence that follows is suffocating. Dean fights the impulse to threaten Death, to tell him that he'll regret the day he's taking Cas away from him, but he remembers just in time that they're here to ask for a favor, so threatening would seem counterproductive. Not to mention fifty shades of dumb.

"Now, we were talking about a favor?"

Dean shakes himself out of his thoughts. "Yeah. We'd need to burrow your ring."

"And you will return it after you have completed the ritual?"

Dean nods curtly. Death takes his time to decide, just like he always does but by now Dean believes the guy just has a flare for the dramatic. In the end, though, he raises his hand and works the ring off his finger, looking at Dean expectantly. He reaches out, palm up, and Death drops the ring into his hand.

"Uh, sir?" Kevin asks, voice shaking only a bit. "Aren't you worried the ring won't survive the ritual? The tablet didn't say and I don't want to… you know, uh…"

Death merely shoots him a long-suffering glance and hell, if it don't feel good to see someone else be at the receiving end of that for once, Dean thinks.

"My ring, just like I, is forever. I doubt even God could destroy it. Although I believe he tried, once."

Dean sees Kevin's lips twitch as he's struggling not to giggle at that. Sometimes Dean really wonders what his existence has become if he's used to hearing such lines from Death of all… people? Entities?

"Well, thanks. We owe you one," Dean tells him and he can almost feel the eye roll he would get in response if Death weren't so fond of long-suffering looks.

"Don't screw it up, Dean. You're treading a narrow path."

It's short and to the point, but there's something more to it, Dean can feel it. The way Death's eyes are boring into his own is enough for Dean to know that Death means so much more with that than he lets on. Does he know of his struggles? Who's he kidding, of course Death knows. Still, Dean isn't deluded enough to think that the guy actually cares, though. Or does he?

The lines of Death's face ain't giving him any answers, that's for sure. So Dean nods, feeling the ring sit heavy in his hand. Death inclines his head, sweeps his gaze around the room, pausing for the briefest hint of a second when they reach Sammy and Dean tenses but then Death is gone and everyone's still here.

Kevin is the first to move, spinning on the spot with a shaky laugh, rubbing his hands over his face.

"That was easier than I expected," Cas says thickly and Dean grins, patting him on the shoulder because he needs to touch him, assure himself that Cas's still there.

"Well, Death likes me, no matter what he says." He flicks the ring in the air and catches is, a cocky grin on his face. "Want us to hold onto it or take it upstairs?"

"I don't believe Death would appreciate me claiming the ring. After all, the Host has bound him for several centuries. I believe some of my brothers and sisters still think we should reaffirm our hold over him."

"Oh, he'd hate that." Which is why Dean hands the ring over to his brother. "Work your filing magic, Sammy."

Sam does roll his eyes, though in a fond way and Dean lets himself smile… which turns into a full-belly laugh when he notices one of the pizza boxes is missing.

"Dude," Dean manages and points towards the pile on the table until everyone catches on. It only serves to make Kevin giggle more, too nervous for anything else apparently. Sam chuckles and even Cas' mouth curls into a grin.

They end up in the entertainment center, a room they use far too rarely, sharing pizza and beers. Even Cas allows himself to be persuaded, though Dean can feel his worried looks at the back of his skull. It's a bit unnerving, yet he mostly ignores it as they watch whatever DVD Sam was able to find first.

xXx

"I see you are still on duty, Cornelius," Metatron drawls and Cornelius can hear a page turn behind his back. "I am sad to see you haven't crossed over to me, but didn't I tell you? We let you consider your options and no harm would come to you."

Deliberately, Cornelius turns around, meeting the former God's eyes for the first time since he has been serving as a guard.

"Oh," is all the angel says, putting the book down on his cot.

The soft rustling of keys resonates in the silent prison, yet no one is around to hear it except for the two of them.

Cornelius opens the cell door, the hinges grating as they are moved, and with a warm smile Metatron rises and walks past him and out of his cell.

xXx

End Notes: Oh boy. Cas, you should have killed him when you had the chance…

Death is seriously one of my favourite characters on the show, especially when interacting with Dean. I hope I did him justice!

Let me know if you enjoyed! I live on air and comments ;)

Teaser for the next chapter: Brace yourselves. Smut is coming.