Dean's Death

Dean didn't have a normal life and he didn't die like normal people. It shouldn't surprise him that that doesn't stop just because his time as a hunter is finally over.

Nothing belongs to me.

Dean looked around. He knew he was dead; there really wasn't a question about that.

Where was the reaper? Even if Tessa had other things to do, there should be somebody here for him by now.

"Hello Dean."

The familiar voice was a surprise. The hunter now saw the corresponding body.

"Death. I'm surprised to see you here."

Dean took the seat on the other side of the table from the eating man.

The horseman bit into his gyros and contemplated a thought.

"You expected to see a reaper."

It wasn't a question and Dean didn't answer. To his knowledge he hadn't done anything in the last time that warranted Death to be more disgruntled with him than at their last meeting.

Like Death had said, Dean was a bacteria to him. A bacteria that had the same taste in food as himself.

"There is no place in the universe that needs that much attention than this planet. Not a single one."

Okay. "Then why are you here now?"

Dean got the impression that Death had waited for that question.

"Your death was the opportunity to decide which way your debt to me will be paid. After all, I'm not at your back and call."

Dean was aware what he owed Death.

And being Death for a time made certainly clear how difficult this job was.

"You pay your debts by becoming the local Death. It will free me of this worrisome little planet."

Surprise. The horseman had to be joking.

"You do remember that I sucked being you." Dean was very careful to suppress the insane laughter that wanted to overwhelm him. There was no being in existence the hunter had more fear, awe and respect for then Death itself, even if it didn't really show in their interaction.

"You know better now. And you are interested in keeping the balance."

Yes, the human had seen what happened when the balance was disturbed.

Death held a ring in Dean's direction. The design was different than the ring of the horseman, but it had a white stone in the center, too.

Dean took it and mustered it for a moment. Him, Death. It was funny. He had been in hell, nothing he wanted to experience ever again. He had been in heaven and to him it had been… lacking. Perhaps this really was what fit him best.

He donned the ring. It felt more comfortable than the original; it felt as if it had been made specifically for him. Which was true.

In front of him on his side of the table laid a sparkling new scythe, the handle practically calling Dean, telling him they would fit perfectly.

The hunter in him inspected his new weapon. It was surprisingly dull, no real edge of any kind but Dean realized that as Death you didn't need a sharp edge, touching was more than enough.

While Dean became familiar with the tools of his new trade, Death had finished eating, drank his soft drink and mustered his new delegate.

"This is your territory now. I will be here from time to time. I like the food."

With that Death winked out.

And the new Death was alone.