The Plea of A Brother.. | DEATH & DEAN

[Dean M. Winchester]

Dean was in a crappy motel after getting as far away from Lisa's house as he could, sitting, waiting, thinking. There was too much on his mind. Too much to keep thinking about. How was he supposed to get Castiel out of Purgatory? How had he left him there? Of course, he hadn't done it on purpose, but he'd tried everything he possibly could to get his best friend out of there and back home where he belonged. Purgatory wasn't for angels and God knew what had happened to him after Dean had gone. He couldn't get the images out of his head, couldn't stop thinking about having left Castiel there and everything that had lead up to that disastorous departure. It was just a damned good thing that he had gotten Benny out. Benny had been the closest thing to a brother he'd had the whole time he was there and now? Even Benny was gone.

True, it had been a mutual parting, but a large part of him wished that Benny hadn't left him until he had found Sam. Dean didn't like being alone. He wasn't meant to be completely alone, he didn't know what to do when he was. A bottle of whiskey sat in his hand while he tried to think of how to find Sammy. He'd called every number he could think of and still hadn't found the man. Besides, he needed the drink after that meeting with Lisa. How could he have forgotten? He couldn't help but think that a part of him had died at that meeting, it seemed reasonable, though, with the way he'd always felt for the two of them. A low sigh slipped through his lips while Lisa slowly slipped from his thoughts and Cass made his way back in. Cass. Dammit.

He raised the bottle to his lips again and took a long drink, feeling it burn all the way down to his belly. What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to live knowing that his best friend was trapped in that hell? Sure, it wasn't really hell, but it was pretty damned close. And he could speak from experience since he'd been in both of them before. A hand raised to scratch at his face, lost in thought for a moment about Castiel. And then an idea strick him. An idea that was both genius and completely stupid at the same time. Sure, he'd done it before, but the man had told him the last time that he wouldn't help again. It was worth a shot though, right? While he pushed himself to stand he muttered "this is borderline idiotic" to himself before stepping over to the lamp that sat on the bedside table. Dean sighed as he yanked the switchblade from his pocket and unplugged the lamp.

"This had better work." He mumbled while stripping the plastic coating from the wires on the cord. His plan? Electrocute himself to near death to bring Death around for a talk. "Probably should have found him something to eat first." He said to himself while working.

[Death]

It wasn't until the Winchester finally electrocuted himself to the point of no return that the reaper appeared. She sat on the edge of the bed in a dirty motel room, looking at Dean. A rather attractive red-head, she was wearing what could only be described as a feminine mortician's suit with long hair falling down around her shoulders. "Dean Winchester?" The voice was soft, delicate as she placed folded hands in her lap, watching.

This wasn't her first rodeo, though it was her first time meeting one of the famed brothers. Death had a certain fondness for them, not that he ever admitted it, or came when they called. He was a very important person and just didn't have the time for Dean's little antics, he wasn't Cas, who came running each and every time.

Pushing herself off the edge of the bed, she stood, heeled feet touching the floor and rising to her full height, all of 5'6, including the heels. While so many reapers were dark, she was a little abnormal, with the white tie against the white blouse, an homage to the mythical reapers of ancient times, who wore white. The rest though, as black as the night, save for the green of her eyes and red of her hair.

Sea-green eyes glanced around their surroundings, taking it all in, an odd attempt to find answers. It wasn't everyday you reaped a Winchester after all. All the little details, they stood out. The alcohol bottles, the dirty motel, the sheer...loneliness. "Drunk, alone and living in dirt. I hear there are two of you, always two, so I'm guessing you lost your other half somewhere along the way. Makes perfect sense now, why you would take your own life. So, are you ready?" Holding out her hand, she offered a comforting smile, waiting for him to go with her.

This wasn't how it was meant to be of course, but even Death couldn't always get it right. Death had predicted Dean and Sam would live for much longer, though everyone made mistakes. When someone was ready to just let go...how could you truly argue?

[Dean M. Winchester]

Dean hadn't electrocuted himself to the point of death, but he had come very very close to it. A slow breath escaped his throat before looking down at his barely breathing body on the floor and shaking his head just before he heard the voice saying his name. Green eyes turned quickly toward the female's voice and took in her appearance. She was a new one for him. Of course, she wasn't the first reaper he'd come across, certainly not. Brows furrowed darkly as he looked at the girl, she wasn't what he'd been expecting. The only thing he could think of was to ask her to call Death so that he could have a chat with the man. He had actually just opened his mouth to say something when the woman spoke again. Brows furrowed in confusion for only a moment before his eyes rolled up. "You've got it wrong, lady. I didn't kill myself.. Not.. really. I just.. I need to talk to Death. Please." He begged.

Obviously this reaper didn't know everything that was going on. Sammy was fine.. well.. so far as he knew. Dean hadn't seen his brother in over a year so how could he be certain? No, this was about Cass. Death had powers that other people could only dream of. Death could pull Castiel out of Purgatory, he was sure of it. He just had to talk to Daddy Reaper first. "I'm not going with you. Look-" he said while pointing at his body on the floor "-I'm not dead." He could see his own chest rising and falling. Sure, it was shallow and probably close to death, but he wasn't dead yet. Even his spirit that lingered somewhere between life and death held bloodshot eyes and a slight smell of whiskey. "Please." He begged the woman again.

[Death]

Bargaining, they all did it at some point. Trying to save their lives, which just couldn't be done, not even a Winchester got to bend the rules. "Not dead...yet. Look at yourself Dean, just a few breaths away from death. That's why I'm here, to help you the rest of the way, so you won't be alone." Standing patiently, she held her hand out at arm's length, waiting for Dean to accept his current state. Though when he thought to ask for Death, the reaper just shook her head. "How do you except me to call forth a primordial being? It can't happen, I'm sorry Dean. It's finally your time. You don't want to get yourself stuck in between as a ghost, do you?"

Taking a step closer to Dean, she continued to offer her hand, before quickly recoiling it. There was a change in the mood in the air as Death appeared in the corner of the room. "You can go." Death hardly spared the reaper a glance as she disappeared at his command. Ring finger curled around the silver top of his cane, Death's other hand held a big gulp soda. "Can you believe they want to ban these in New York? Insane. What, no pickle chips?" Dark eyes scanned the room as Death took a drink of his soda.

Tall and lanky, Death's face seemed sunken in, hollow. His suit was dark, tailored to the situations of his job. Walking through the room, Death stepped over Dean's body and took a seat at one of the chairs provided by the motel. Picking at the hole in the arm of the chair, Death shook his head. "I'm sure you can afford better than this Dean. Now, I suppose I must ask what you want, because you'll tell me anyway. So what scheme have you thought up to present to me today?"

[Dean M. Winchester]

"I'm. Not. Dead. Yet." He growled out at the reaper. Why couldn't she just listen? He wasn't dead and he damned sure had no intention to be. Dean just needed to talk to Death and this was apparently going to go south if this bitch didn't just listen to him. As she stepped closer to him with her hand outstreched he leaned back, jaw clenching tightly to hold back a slew of harsh comments toward the reaper. None of which were female appropriate. Not really. He'd just opened his mouth to snap something out at her when she recoiled. He felt the change in the air only a second before Daddy Reaper spoke.

Dean couldn't help the low sigh of relief that slipped out from his lips before turning toward Death, ignoring the pretty reaper's departure as if she hadn't been there at all. "Sight for sore eyes," he muttered as he stepped around the bed, careful not to get too close to the man.. just in case Death was in a bad mood. At the mention of banning the Big Gulp a brow rose in confusion. "What? Um. No. I..." He let out another sigh, this one exasperation. How was he supposed to know something was in the process of being banned? He'd just gotten out of Purgatory a few days ago and he'd been there for a whole year! It wasn't as if he'd been able to keep tabs on the news from there. It had been hard enough keeping his ass alive while he was there. "Sorry, I didn't think to get you something to eat this time.." He said, and it was true. He didn't think about it, at least not until right before he'd electrocuted himself. Alcohol will do that to a person.

His hand raised to scratch at the back of his head when the older male stepped through the room and over his fallen body. So weird to look down on himself like that. After the male had taken a seat and spoke Dean settled himself on the corner of the bed to keep facing Death, his hands clasped tightly in front of him with his elbows resting against his knees. "You know me too well.." He joked lamely before sighing and chewing at his lower lip. Emerald gaze fell to the floor for a moment while he collected his thoughts enough to form them into words. He honestly hadn't thought this through completely before calling Death to him. "Look, you're.. all powerful and everything, right? You know nearly everything that happens. So you know about the Leviathan's you know that Bobby died trying to stop them and that me and Cas got stuck in Purgatory when we killed their leader.." He rattled off, more for himself than for Death. The being already knew everything, he was sure.

After sucking in another breath he pushed himself to his feet, obviously finding it hard to sit still right now. Dean walked to the window and stared out of it with his arms crossed lightly over his chest. "I got out of Purgatory-" he started, leaving out Benny because, again, he was sure Death already knew "-but Cas didn't." Slowly he turned toward Death and shifted to rest his back against the wall, arms still crossed over his chest. "Can you get him out?" He asked quietly. This wasn't like bringing Sam's soul back. He wasn't trying to restore something dead.. at least he hoped like hell Cas wasn't dead in Purgatory. Dean was just trying to... restore order.. or something. His eyes searched the old man's face while waiting for an answer, hoping he would see it there first.

[Death]

As Dean rambled, Death continued to take interest in the hole in the chair's arm. It was a tiny hole, though the dark markings around the edge indicated heat, fire, a cigarette butt. Humans were so careless with everything, they didn't care about anything that wasn't themselves or belonged to them. Selfish creatures, they sometimes made it easy for Death to take them away, when their death was a result of their own foolish actions. Placing the soda on the table, Death was only thankful that he had stopped by Chicago stadium for a hot dog before answering Dean's call.

As Dean finally got to his point, Death's lips twisted upward, in a bit of a cynical smile. "Yes, an angel in purgatory, how ironic. It really is kind of funny when you think about it, God's prison holding one of his own angels, and a good angel at that, unlike his wayward son Lucifer." Looking up from the chair arm, Death's gaze turned towards the ceiling as he contemplated the situation at hand. Yes, it was funny.

Eyes snapping back to Dean, Death knew that next part. Dean wanted him to go to Purgatory, grab the angel, and come back. Safe and sound, no harm done, yada yada. "Can I retrieve things from Purgatory? Yes, of course I can. However, you know that everything comes with a price, and my services are not cheap." Elbows on his knees, Death leaned forward towards Dean, staring intently at him. "I will go to Purgatory and find Castiel, but Sam must come with me." Dean's biggest weakness, his little brother. Always protecting him from harm, it was the only thing that would make Dean understand the weight of having to ripe something from Purgatory, without opening something bigger, as Castiel himself had done only years earlier.

Leaning back in the chair again, Death's fingers played with his cane as the tip rested against the carpet, the handle against his leg. There was no real reason for the cane, other than to add a certain look and feel to the horseman. "I suppose while I'm hear, we should also discuss the Natural Order of things." Pointing to the alcohol bottle, Death''s gaze remained on Dean as the bottle began to move, to float over to the table at Death's side. It wasn't often that he used such performance powers, Death was anything but a lazy being, though sometimes the show was useful. "Lisa." Death didn't need to ask, didn't need to guess if Dean had sought her out, he knew the answers already. Felt them when the Order began to shift itself. "She is supposed to see her grandchildren, and provided she doesn't do anything foolish...or get mixed up with the wrong people, she will see both her grandchildren and great-grandchildren." Death's comments were a statement, he didn't care if Dean responded or not, Death simply liked the guy and was giving him some free advice.

[Dean M. Winchester]

He actually had to fight not to snap out at the being as the man spoke of the irony behind Castiel being in Purgatory. He didn't find it ironic at all, cruel, yes. Of course, he didn't bother mentioning that at one point some months ago, Castiel had said the same thing while they were there, treking their way through the desolate forest to find the gate home. Castiel had remarked how ironic it was that he was stuck there, he'd thought it was something comical as well. Even then, Dean hadn't found humor in it. So, instead of saying anything he simply locked his jaw and stared at Death, waiting for an answer to his question. Dean let out a faint breath of a laugh through his nose when the man spoke again. A tiny smile formed at his lips while shaking his head, "I remember your prices. Nothing's free, nothing's cheap." He stated while staring at the male.

As Death leaned foreward and spoke, Dean could have jumped and whooped and clapped for joy. Hell, he could have hugged the man just for saying that he would go and find Cass. A wide smile had started on his lips that fell away quicker than it appeared upon hearing that Sam would have to go too. Sam. In Purgatory. He hesitated now. Castiel was the closest thing he had to a best friend, he was the closest thing Dean had ever had to a best friend. Cass was practically his brother, but then... his own brother. How would Sam feel if Dean just threw him into Purgatory all to find Cass? Would Sam make it out of there? He didn't like the idea of sticking his baby brother into Purgatory. Of course, Sam was a big boy and could take care of himself, but that wasn't the way it was supposed to be. Not to him anyway. Dean was supposed to take care of and protect Sam. He stared around the room while contemplating an answer for Death.

It wasn't fair to send Sam in there.. especially without knowing if his brother was even alright. Of course, if Death was willing to take Sam somewhere he had to assume that his brother was fine, after all.. Death didn't like resurrecting people, he remembered that little lesson all too well. After clearing his throat his eyes locked onto Death's "Cass is alive, right?" He asked with a faint arch in his brow. He couldn't send Sam on a mission to collect the angel if there was nothing to collect. Hell, he still wasn't even sure about sending Sammy in there at all.

And then the conversation shifted toward the Natural Order. He snorted and shook his head, the sound wasn't disobiedent or rude, but more of a humorless laugh. "I remember your lesson about the Natural Order.." He stated, figuring that bringing Castiel back might cause something or might irritate the horseman. Dean could easily recall the little girl he had failed to reap that had set off a chain that killed 2 others. Knowing he had been responsible for innocent peoples deaths had nearly killed him. All to get Sam's soul back. Dean unfortunately knew that he did too much sometimes for those he considered family. Cass, Benny, Sam. Bobby, Jo, Ellen, Ash, Dad... Green eyes followed the movement of the bottle of whiskey across the table until it floated lazily next to Death. At the words from the man's lips Dean froze, feeling his chest constrict and his heart skip a beat.

God, how could he have been so stupid? He knew that he shouldn't have gone to Lisa, but at the time, he hadn't been thinking about it. "I know.." He muttered ruefully. Dean knew that he'd screwed up by seeing Lisa, but she didn't remember him anyway, not really. So it wasn't as if there was much harm to it. "It's not gonna happen again. Besides, Cass took her memories away.. she'll get old and see her grandkids and great-grandkids before dying an old woman in her bed.." He stated, feeling his heart close over with each word. Not only for Lisa, but Ben too. Knowing that he wouldn't see Ben grow up, that he wouldn't see Ben get married or have kids or go to college and make a decent 'normal' life for himself? It killed a part of him that had once been so happy.

[Death]

Death sat relaxed, calm in the chair as Dean listened to all Death had to say. If his silence was any indication, the words didn't go over very well with the young man, but Death didn't care. He was Death, and Dean could get as angry as he wanted, but Dean was no threat to the eternal being. Death feared nothing, he had no reason, and so when Dean got worked up, Death merely sat still, occasionally sipping on the soda. "For someone brazen enough to seek me out for help that only I can provide, the muscles in your jaw seem to be pretty tense." True, God could send an army of Angels to the pit and try to drag Castiel out, but angels weren't immortal, they could be killed, fairly easily too. Death was the only true immortal in the world.

Was Castiel alive? What a funny question. "How alive can anything in Purgatory truly be? It's where the beings collect once they've been banished from this life." Never a straight answer with Death, at least, not in the way a human might like one. It was part of the fun, to be honest. To toy with humans and supernatural creatures alike, it made a life of immortality fun and different. "Castiel is still moving about down there, if that's what you're asking. If too much time is wasted, I don't think he will be moving for much longer. He really is only a shell of his former self you know." Fingers tapped the edge of the chair's arm as Death watched Dean, curious to see how the rest of this conversation might play out.

"Extracting something from Purgatory isn't exactly a snap of the fingers, there's a reason nothing comes out. Such a trip deserves such a high price." Would it be dangerous even with Death around? Absolutely, going under was never easy, and as Dean learned, it was not meant for humans...ever. Normally, Death would have requested that Dean pay the price, but Dean would be all too willing to go back after his friend, it wouldn't be a lesson learned in terms of the Order.

Raising a hand as if to force Dean to stop talking, Death wasn't overly concerned with the man's guilt about Lisa and the boy. If Dean wanted to talk, Death supposed he might listen, but in the grand scheme of things, this moment in time was just a millisecond of the rest of Death's life. "Far be it for me to tell you what to do with your life Dean, I am merely reminding you that every action you take, has it's own consequence. In your line of work, it behooves you to think of the consequences in advance. What you do with your life, that is up to you."

[Dean M. Winchester]

Dean said nothing about Death's comment on the muscles in his jaw. He knew that he was just a little too tense, but there also wasn't a whole lot he could do about that at the moment. Emerald gaze locked onto the man in front of him while he waited for some sort of answer on Castiel. A soft breath was sucked in as he heard the older male speak. 'Tell me Cas is fine, tell me Cas is fine' he repeated the mantra over and over again in his head. Of course Dean blamed himself for the angel still being stuck there. It was Cas, his best friend and brother in arms. The one who had been there for him when no one else had. Of course, Castiel had also caused him a world of problems, but the angel had always been there to yank him out of the fire. A breath of relief escaped him as Death confirmed Castiel was still alive.. technically. He knew it couldn't be much longer before that movement stopped though, Cas was strong, but no where near what he used to be. "Thank God," he muttered to himself. Yes, Castiel was alive, but could he toss his brother into that ring? He wasn't so sure.

As the man spoke again Dean took in a breath, "why can't I go instead?" He asked, more than willing to go in place of Sam to find Cas. After all, he'd been there before. Actually, Dean was surprised that Death hadn't asked for another price. Benny. Benny went against the natural order, against nearly everything. He had been locked in Purgatory for how long? Beyond that, he wasn't human and Dean had risked his life to bring the vampire back with him. Benny went so far against the natural order that Dean was amazed Death hadn't asked Dean to trade Benny for Cas. Could he do that? He'd grown close to the vampire and considered him a brother and extremely close friend, besides, he'd promised Benny a way out. What kind of friend would he be if he had Benny out for a couple of days and then hurled him back in just to yank Cas's ass out of the fire? What kind of friend would he be to just leave Cas in there? The muscles in his jaw worked again as he thought long and hard. What the hell was he supposed to do here?! Letting anything happen to Sam, Cas or Benny went completely against his standing for Family.

"I know. I know." He said with a little sigh escaping him. It wasn't the first time Dean had heard this speech from Death. Every action had a consequence. Sometimes it was good, most times for him it was bad. He wasn't sure how many times he could take this conversation over and over again before he'd just shoot himself in the head... or at least dig his ear-drums out. His right hand raised to scratch at the side of his face before looking back to Death. "I have to talk to Sam first. I can't just send him in there without knowing what's going on." He said while staring at the other male. "Give me two days? Please." He begged. Hopefully he wouldn't have to nearly kill himself again just to get a meeting with Death, regardless of Sam's answer.

[Death]

Dean's relief was expected, knowing how close he had become with the angel, though Death still had to roll his eyes at the sentiment. "Trust me, God had nothing to do with it." Truthfully, if God had any say at all, Castiel wouldn't be moving around anymore, he would just have ceased to exist, like Dean. They weren't supposed to go to purgatory, weren't supposed to see those evils, and certainly were not supposed to make it back out alive. However, when it came to the Winchesters, nothing was certain, and that was the only certainty.

It didn't long at all before Dean offered himself up to the search party, in place of his baby brother. Death knew he would, waited for the offer, though it fell on deaf ears. "Are you still pretending that you can negotiate with me? Okay, we can pretend. There is a lesson to be learned in asking favors of me, Dean. You and I both know that there's only one reason you came searching for me to assist you, because no one else can do it. Sure, angels can fight their way down there and try to bring him back too, but casualties will arise and they won't all make it back. No guarantee they can come back with Castiel at all. I am your only guarantee, and so you came seeking me. Favors that only I can do, they don't come cheap and are not easily forgotten. You will always sacrifice your safety in place of your brother, it's not an unusual offer. No, it must be Sam, it's the only way to assure me that you will remember this deed until the day you die." And Death liked Dean even, the guy had guts to stand up to the horseman, it was an interesting trait in a human.

Boney fingers moved agilely as fingertips drummed against the fabric of the chair arm. Deals were fun to make, though the amusement wore off quickly. Taking his gaze away from the soul, Death looked once more to the body on the ground, nearly lifeless. A sight Death had seen too many times to count, though it still seemed to amuse him every time. That's why he was Death of course, it never got old. "Two days? Nothing runs on your schedule, Mr Winchester. You have one day to take my offer, or leave it."

[Dean M. Winchester]

"I know, God could give a crap less." He said. Of course, Dean could have thought of a hundred different ways to word that sentence, each more rude than the next, but knew that Death was nothing if not polite so did his best to resciprocate that. Besides that, Death wasn't someone you wanted to piss off, not really. He could take you down in a second without batting an eyelash over it. Dean knew that, he wasn't stupid. He wasn't going to do anything that would tempt the being to just up and kill him. Sure, he'd done a few unfavorable things in the past that involved Death, but he was at least attempting to remain polite about it all. Even when he'd tried to bind the horseman Dean had brought plenty of food and had showed as much respect as he could in the situation.

Strange to think that the last time he had called upon Death it was to kill Castiel, and now it was to rescue him. That Winchester loyalty never ceased to amaze did it? Even back then Dean had been hesitant about killing Cas if only for the fact that the man was his friend. His best friend. But in the end he knew that he was only going to do what was best and had Castiel been in his right mind at the time, the Angel (or rather God at that time) would have fully supported Dean's decision. He took in a slow breath while Death spoke, remaining silent while the horseman got it all out. He knew that it was a vague hope that Death would take him over Sam, but had to try anyway, right? After all, it was his baby brother. At the final words in Death's speech, however, Dean couldn't hold back the faint scoff. "Trust me, regardless of who you take, this wouldn't be something I would easily forget." He stated, just to make sure it was known, not in any attempt to sway the Horseman's decision. After all, he already knew that there wasn't much that he could say that would actually change the other males mind.

Dean could tell that Death was getting bored with the conversation, with toying around and waiting for a choice, if only by the way the horseman drummed his fingers and stared around the room. Yep, Death was bored and it probably wasn't a good thing when he did grow bored. But then hearing the words from his mouth made Dean frown lightly. He hadn't counted on a full two days anyway and if he'd been smart would have set his demand a little higher than two days, perhaps that would have left a little wiggle room in it. Swallowing hard, he contemplated the choices here. Send Sammy into Purgatory knowing what might happen or completely unaware if he couldn't find his brother. Or lose Castiel, probably forever. There was no gaurentee that Castiel would come back with Death because he might be dead by then. There was no gaurentees that Sam would come back with Death, be it a lesson to Dean or because something just happened to happen to his brother. After several moments of silence he nodded lightly. "24 hours, got it." He stated lightly. He turned lightly, almost as if saying the conversation were over for the moment. Then his nearly lifeless body was spotted on the floor and he frowned. "Two other things.." He asked with a tiny smile, almost as if Death should have been expecting one or both of them at the very least. "Can you put me back? And tell me there's an easier way to get a hold of you? I don't need another of your reapers trying to take me to the promised land." He stated while letting out the tiniest of chuckles.