Supernatural Series Rewrite- Season 5

Two Minutes to Midnight: Final Part

You make eye contact with Dean and grip your scythe tighter. They are small ones, but you know they will get the job done. So, to not make any noise, you lead quietly through the pizzeria. Does Death know you're here? Can anyone sneak up on him? It seems like it's working, but the closer you get, the hotter the scythe is becoming.

The handle is quickly burning up, and apparently, the same thing is happening to Dean. At the same time, you and Dean drop the scythes onto the floor because it's become unbearable to touch. And, of course, it makes a loud noise when it hits the floor. You wince and stare at Death in hopes he didn't hear you.

"Thanks for returning those," Death speak. You look down only to realize the scythes are gone. Instead, they are at the table, and as one. You and Dean had two small ones, and Death merged them together to form one big one. "Join me, Dean and Y/N. The pizza is delicious. Sit down. Took you long enough to find me. I've been wanting to talk to you."

There is nothing else left to do but listen to what he says. If you can't kill him to get the ring, then maybe you can convince him to give it up? Whatever the case may be, you needed to listen to what he says right now. You and Dean take a seat across from him carefully. You need to act wise or else you're dead.

"So is this the part where... where you kill us?" Dean stutters.

"You have an inflated sense of your importance. To a thing like me, a thing like you two, 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 says as he picks at his food.

He takes two pieces of pizza and place them on the plates in front of you.

"Eat," he gestures to the pizza. The look in his eyes tells you that he isn't joking about this. You look at Dean once more before taking your utensils and cutting into the thick pie. You take a bite and chew slowly in case he's poisoned it. "Good, isn't it?"

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

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

"God? You'll reap God?" Dean asks in shock.

"Oh, yes. God will die, too, Dean. Amara as well. They aren't as powerful as you deem them to be."

"So, then why are we still breathing, sitting here with you? Uh... w-what do you want?" Dean stutters.

"I want the leash around my neck gone. 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 two to catch up. He made me his weapon. Hurricanes, floods, even 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 we can unbind you?" you ask.

"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," he says and holds up his right hand that houses his ring.

"Yeah."

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

"To give it to us?

"That's what I said," he says quickly.

"But what about Chicago? All these people?" you ask sincerely.

"I suppose it can stay. I like the pizza. However, there are conditions."

"What are they?"

"You have to do whatever it takes to put Lucifer in his cell," he says seriously as he takes off his ring.