"You know," an icy, all-too-familiar drawl came from behind Dean, "this is getting beyond tiring, Winchester."
Dean spun around. "What are you doing here?" he yelped. Well, not so much yelped as asked in a mnaly fashion. Whatever.
If Death wasn't a creature as old as Time itself, and thus far above all things petty, Dean would have sworn he was given the 'bitch, please' look from the creature. "I received this," Death said and held out his hand, palm curled around something small and bright. "I was led to believe it belongs to you."
Dean sneaked closer, curious about the shiny thing but still wary after his last brief meeting with Death. "You do realize that none of us tried to bind you, right?" he asked, just to be sure.
Death didn't dignify that with an answer, which was answer good enough for Dean.
"What is it?"
"I'll tell you what it's not," Death said calmly, in that I-am-not-amused-by-you-petty-humans way of his. "It's not God."
"Cas?" Dean whispered, half expecting the glowing thing to answer 'yes, Dean' in a rough, gravelly voice. He refused to be disappointed when it didn't.
"What is left of him, if nothing else," Death nodded, head cocked.
"What am I supposed to do with him?" Dean asked, wanting to stretch his arm out and touch the glowing something but not quite daring to.
"Do you remember what I told you the last time we met, Dean?" Death asked in that too-calm tone of his, the one that meant that he was getting bored and irritated by this whole situation.
"Um," Dean said. " 'Try to bind me again and I'll kill you'?"
"Right before that," Death said tightly.
Dean frowned, before it hit him. " 'You figure it out'?"
"Bingo," Death said and slammed his palm against Dean's chest.
Dean felt something latch onto him, branding his soul and hurting, before it settled somewhere around his right shoulder and everything went brilliantly white for a second.
~
"Bobby?" Dean coughed, and the older hunter looked up at him. "What do you know about, um, Grace-transfusions?"
FILLEDt: Mr. Fix-it Death, ALL YOUR SOULS ARE BELONG TO ME
Dean spun around. "What are you doing here?" he yelped. Well, not so much yelped as asked in a mnaly fashion. Whatever.
If Death wasn't a creature as old as Time itself, and thus far above all things petty, Dean would have sworn he was given the 'bitch, please' look from the creature. "I received this," Death said and held out his hand, palm curled around something small and bright. "I was led to believe it belongs to you."
Dean sneaked closer, curious about the shiny thing but still wary after his last brief meeting with Death. "You do realize that none of us tried to bind you, right?" he asked, just to be sure.
Death didn't dignify that with an answer, which was answer good enough for Dean.
"What is it?"
"I'll tell you what it's not," Death said calmly, in that I-am-not-amused-by-you-petty-humans way of his. "It's not God."
"Cas?" Dean whispered, half expecting the glowing thing to answer 'yes, Dean' in a rough, gravelly voice. He refused to be disappointed when it didn't.
"What is left of him, if nothing else," Death nodded, head cocked.
"What am I supposed to do with him?" Dean asked, wanting to stretch his arm out and touch the glowing something but not quite daring to.
"Do you remember what I told you the last time we met, Dean?" Death asked in that too-calm tone of his, the one that meant that he was getting bored and irritated by this whole situation.
"Um," Dean said. " 'Try to bind me again and I'll kill you'?"
"Right before that," Death said tightly.
Dean frowned, before it hit him. " 'You figure it out'?"
"Bingo," Death said and slammed his palm against Dean's chest.
Dean felt something latch onto him, branding his soul and hurting, before it settled somewhere around his right shoulder and everything went brilliantly white for a second.
~
"Bobby?" Dean coughed, and the older hunter looked up at him. "What do you know about, um, Grace-transfusions?"
~*~