Legal Disclaimer: I own my stuff, but not the original source material. That belongs to whoever. Also, the opinions and interpretations I use here may not reflect the same in said whoever that owns the source material. Look, I'm just a poor college librarian. Suing me isn't going to get you anything but tears.

Warning: This work may be offensive to some readers. Feel free to back out if need be.

Author's Note: This chapter got away from me. Much like my anger at reaching the end of season 7 and watching that flask melt. Hence why I wrote another chapter of this instead of starting on my Secret Santa fic. At least it's not due on Christmas exactly.

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Added Note (2021): If you require explanation about why or how a character isn't white, none of my works are for you. Please exit this fic without comment. As a side note, I suggest examining why you have difficulty understanding that non-white people exist and why that is upsetting to you. Racism is not a good look, people, not even when it's not violent.

Submitting Info:
Stacked with: Hogwarts (Term 11); MC4A (Swap; Fa Bingo; Hang; TY
Individual Challenges: Logical Crossing; Gryffindor MC; Hunter MC (x2); Immortal MC; Seeds; Golden Times; New Fandom Smell [Supernatural] (Y); Old Shoes [Harry Potter] (Y); Advice from the Mug; Booger Breath; Booger Breath Rider; Rian-Russo Inversion; In a Flash; Yellow Ribbon; Yellow Ribbon Redux; The Real MC; Two Cakes!
House: Hufflepuff
Assignment No.: Term 11 – Post-Assignments
Subject (Task No.): n/a
Other Hogwarts Challenges: Insane Prompt Challenge [620] (Cardigan); 365 [250] (Fight); Galleon Club ("Crash Into Me" – Dave Mathews Band); Pinata [Medium](Harry Potter)
Space Address (Prompt): Swap [Outer Wear] (Red Cardigan);Fa Bingo [4D] (Frost); Hang [Phase 5] (Sibling Fics – No Incest); Fa Big (Searching)
Representation(s): the Winchester Boys; Reapers as Family; Depressed Dean Winchester; Bisexual Dean Winchester; Tessa the Reaper; Desi Harry Potter; BC Use
Bonus Challenges: Mermaid; Second Verse (Under the Bridge; Bad Beans; Rock of Ages; Muck & Slime; Most Human Bean; Grease Monkey; Lovely Coconuts; Unwanted Advice; Mother Hen; Middle Name; Nontraditional; Found Family; White Dress; Persistence Still; Not a Lamp; Ladylike); Chorus (Getting On; Some Beach; Sitting Hummingbird; Call Me Dantes; Turtle-Duck; Surprise!; In the Trench; Head of Perseus; Abandoned Ship; Creature Feature; Unicorn; Larger than Life; Eternal Boredom; Tomorrow's Shade; Mouth of Babes; Peddling Pots; Machismo; Wabi Sabi; Odd Feathers)
Tertiary Bonus Challenges: TY (Enfant); O3 (Oath); SHoE (Terse; Onus); SN (Rail; Negate); T3 (Terse; Tether)
Word Count: 798

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Needs and Wants
Chapter 2: Reaper in a Depot
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"I'm just saying that with everything going on, this seems a bit ridiculous," Sam said for what had to be the thousandth time as he and Dean approached the doors to the bus depot. Dean didn't bother answering, taking a swig out of his water bottle instead. He had already explained about it being part of the deal with Death. Sammy could go bite himself if he thought Dean was going to waste his breath explaining it again, just because he couldn't process it. "Are we absolutely certain that Death isn't just playing with us?"

Apparently, they were going to do this again. He stopped and turned towards Sam.

"He seemed like he was on the level," Dean said lowly. "I'm choosing to trust him. Not like I have much choice in the matter, but it just seems like something that's as old as Death wouldn't play games with bacteria, you know?"

"Death is honest," said a hauntingly familiar voice from behind him. Dean twisted around with all his instincts screaming at him. The petite brunette that was his reaper merely raised an eyebrow at him as if she could sense just how close he had come to drawing a weapon in the crowded depot. Today she was wearing a blood red cardigan over her staple pantsuit. It did nothing to lessen the frosty that clung to her presence. "Death will also be… pleased to see you so prompt at getting here. Unfortunately, you're a bit early."

"Tess," Dean greeted the reaper. He hoped his smile was as weak as he suspected it was. "I really hope you're here supervising the package transfer and not because it's that time again."

"Oh, Dean," she replied with a dry tone, "at this point, I'm starting to have my doubts about ever getting to do my job with you." She pursed her lips for a moment. "Or at least doing it in a way that sticks. It's actually getting rather annoying."

"Hey," Dean protested weakly, "it's not my fault that I keep surviving or getting brought back."

"True," she agreed. Then she beckoned them towards the bus that was just pulling into the station. Dean exchanged a look with Sam before they both followed her. "There were a few issues getting everything out of the UK, of course. The rest will take a few weeks to find its way to you. It's been a headache trying to arrange of this—you were cutting it awfully close on catching up with the boss. We were worried that one of us would need to personally take the first load to Robert Singer."

"Wait a sec," Sam interrupted, grabbing one of Tessa's arms. She froze for a moment as if stunned before she turned slowly to face the big oaf. Dean barely kept his groan of frustration from escaping at his brother's audacity. What kind of idiot laid their hands on a reaper? "What's even in this package? Is it something that can help us stop the Apocalypse?"

"Package?" Tessa asked, clearly confused. "Is that what he called this? Never mind." She declared with a wave of her free arm. "Of course he did. Even his current favorite would barely register on his radar." Her normal zen-like expression hardened into something so frosty that Sammy drop her arm and step back with his hands up in surrender. "If you ever let that slip in front of Harry, I will reap you, and I will find a way to make it stick. Understand?"

"Who's Harry?"

Tessa seemed to lose interest in them at Dean's question, turning back to the bus that had arrived. The disembarking people flowed around them in the usual jumble of baggage and exhaustion. An attendant yanked out an honest-to-god trunk from the storage compartment, setting it aside with a grunt. Who the hell traveled on a bus with a trunk?

The last person to exit the bus was an Indian kid with the craziest hair that Dean had ever seen. He also had glasses that sat crooked on his nose and did nothing to hide how green his eyes were. It was almost unnatural how green they were as they scanned his surroundings automatically. The kid couldn't be more than ninety pounds sopping wet, making his clothes seem to hang off of him. The too-large shirt bulged around the strap of the small bag he had crossing his chest—as if he were ready to run at any moment, Dean realized with a start.

The kid looked like a hunter's kid, like he knew that danger lurked everywhere and he had to be prepared to either fight or flee with every heartbeat.

"That's Harry," Dean said without realizing that he was even going to open his mouth.

"That's Harry," Tessa agreed.