a little bit of story
So, this is all dodger_sister's fault. It was inspired by this comment thread here. It's total crack with no redeeming value at all. Unless, of course, the idea of Dean Winchester in shackles appeals to you.
Title: Deal with Death
Author: Ranua
Rating: Teen for language
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: None of this is real and I'm making no profit and no claims to legitimacy.
Word Count: 894
Warning/Notes: An alternate, crack-y way Dean could have come back from hell. Inspired by the news of a Bill & Ted 3 movie. Not beta'd or really edited very well. *shrugs* it is off the cuff crack after all.
Summery: Sam reaches the end of his rope and comes up with a brilliant idea to save Dean.
When no demon will make a deal with Sam to get Dean out of hell, he gets the idea to make a deal with Death himself. If Dean was in hell that meant he was dead and Death had domain right?
Before Sam has a chance to loose his nerve, because really, a deal with Death? Is Death even a being? He knows he should have given this more thought, but he's run out of options. He needs to get his brother back no matter the cost.
So, before he can loose his nerve, he goes to a crossroads; he knows all the best ones now, and summons Crowley.
'Oh, it's you again,' the dapper demon sighs. 'Look kid, we've been over this. No one is going to take your deal, no matter what you offer.'
Stealing himself Sam says, 'I want to make a Deal with Death.'
'And what makes you think Death will make a deal with you?' Crowley looks Sam up and down.
'People do it though, right? I want to play a game with Death for the return of Dean.'
Crowley gives him a considering look. 'Well, it can't hurt to ask now can it. I'll be right back.' With a snap of his fingers he disappears.
Before Sam can think the demon abandoned him, Crowley is back.
'You are special,' Crowley leers, 'Death says he'll take your deal, but he's choosing the game, of course.'
'Of course, ' Sam swallows nervously, continuing with false bravado, no need to let on how scared he is after all, he manages a weak imitation of Dean's leer and asks 'So, do I kiss you or Death to seal the deal?'
With a look that says 'I cant' believe I have to deal with morons like you', Crowley snaps them to a dim cavernous room. Right in front of them is a living room set-up straight out of seventies, right down to the green shag carpet.
Sitting with legs crossed on the couch is the being Sam thinks must be Death. 'So, this is a Winchester,' he says to Crowley in a voice as dry as any desert.
'You know Alistair won't be happy about this,' Crowley says to Death. The enigmatic being's only reply is a measuring look that actually causes the demon to pale.
'Yes, well, I'll just ring him up then won't I?' The usually cocky voice is all but subdued.
Sam is starting to think he's in over his head. If the usually over-confident, self-proclaimed King of the Crossroads is uncomfortable in Death's presence, what chance does he even have?
'Well then,' Death directs at Sam, 'you want to play a game in exchange for your brother?'
'Yeah. . Uh yes, sir,' Sam answers.
'Excellent,' is the bone dry response. 'I do believe I'd like a game of Twister.'
Sam boggles. He had been expecting chess and had been reading up on strategy. He's totally thrown by the idea of playing Twister, of all things, with Death, of all beings.
Death just smiles at Sam's obvious confusion as he removes his jacket and rolls up his shirt sleeves. Who knew Death had a sense of humor?
Another demon appears in a puff of sulfur and Sam thinks maybe this is Alistair because he certainly doesn't look happy.
'How dare you summon me you jumped up crossroads hussy,' the new demon growls menacingly advancing on Crowley.
Crowley, who seems to have gotten his sangfroid back, makes a slight gesture in Death's direction with a smirk. 'Don't think I won't remember you, minion,' Alistair spits in the lesser demon's direction as he turns to address Death.
Tone morphing to one of respect, he addresses the personification of Death, 'And what can I do for you today, sir?'
'We'll be playing for Dean Winchester this afternoon. If you could be so kind as to retrieve him.' Death replies, seemingly oblivious to the byplay between the two demons.
With a displeased look on his face, carefully turned so Death can't see it, Alistair gestures to the corner of the living room area and what looks to be a human sized canary cage appears. Inside the cage is Dean, dressed in only a loincloth, collar and shackles.
'Dean!' Sam calls out as he starts forward, his brother turning toward the sound of his voice.
'Sam! What the hell are you doing here?' Dean presses against the bars of his cage.
'Aht, ah,' Crowley intercepts Sam, 'Not unless you win, little Winchester.'
'Win?' Dean questions.
'I made a deal with Death, Dean. I win a game against him and I get you back.' Sam explains.
'You did what?' Dean hollers. 'Sammy, do you even know what you're doing?'
'Now, now, children,' Crowley interrupts, 'no fighting. Although,' he gives Dean a speculative, leering look.
'You'd better get me out of here Sam.' Dean glares at his brother, backing up from the predatory look that's appeared in Crowley's eyes.
'Yes,' Death interrupts in his dry hollow tones. 'Let us proceed, there are souls to collect and schedules to keep.'
With another leer at Dean, Crowley snaps his fingers, a twister mat appearing on the shag carpet and the spinner in his hands. 'As the mortal, you go first little Winchester.' Giving the pointer a twirl, he announces the first move. 'Right foot green.'
Sam is so sunk.
x
Title: Deal with Death
Author: Ranua
Rating: Teen for language
Fandom: Supernatural
Disclaimer: None of this is real and I'm making no profit and no claims to legitimacy.
Word Count: 894
Warning/Notes: An alternate, crack-y way Dean could have come back from hell. Inspired by the news of a Bill & Ted 3 movie. Not beta'd or really edited very well. *shrugs* it is off the cuff crack after all.
Summery: Sam reaches the end of his rope and comes up with a brilliant idea to save Dean.
When no demon will make a deal with Sam to get Dean out of hell, he gets the idea to make a deal with Death himself. If Dean was in hell that meant he was dead and Death had domain right?
Before Sam has a chance to loose his nerve, because really, a deal with Death? Is Death even a being? He knows he should have given this more thought, but he's run out of options. He needs to get his brother back no matter the cost.
So, before he can loose his nerve, he goes to a crossroads; he knows all the best ones now, and summons Crowley.
'Oh, it's you again,' the dapper demon sighs. 'Look kid, we've been over this. No one is going to take your deal, no matter what you offer.'
Stealing himself Sam says, 'I want to make a Deal with Death.'
'And what makes you think Death will make a deal with you?' Crowley looks Sam up and down.
'People do it though, right? I want to play a game with Death for the return of Dean.'
Crowley gives him a considering look. 'Well, it can't hurt to ask now can it. I'll be right back.' With a snap of his fingers he disappears.
Before Sam can think the demon abandoned him, Crowley is back.
'You are special,' Crowley leers, 'Death says he'll take your deal, but he's choosing the game, of course.'
'Of course, ' Sam swallows nervously, continuing with false bravado, no need to let on how scared he is after all, he manages a weak imitation of Dean's leer and asks 'So, do I kiss you or Death to seal the deal?'
With a look that says 'I cant' believe I have to deal with morons like you', Crowley snaps them to a dim cavernous room. Right in front of them is a living room set-up straight out of seventies, right down to the green shag carpet.
Sitting with legs crossed on the couch is the being Sam thinks must be Death. 'So, this is a Winchester,' he says to Crowley in a voice as dry as any desert.
'You know Alistair won't be happy about this,' Crowley says to Death. The enigmatic being's only reply is a measuring look that actually causes the demon to pale.
'Yes, well, I'll just ring him up then won't I?' The usually cocky voice is all but subdued.
Sam is starting to think he's in over his head. If the usually over-confident, self-proclaimed King of the Crossroads is uncomfortable in Death's presence, what chance does he even have?
'Well then,' Death directs at Sam, 'you want to play a game in exchange for your brother?'
'Yeah. . Uh yes, sir,' Sam answers.
'Excellent,' is the bone dry response. 'I do believe I'd like a game of Twister.'
Sam boggles. He had been expecting chess and had been reading up on strategy. He's totally thrown by the idea of playing Twister, of all things, with Death, of all beings.
Death just smiles at Sam's obvious confusion as he removes his jacket and rolls up his shirt sleeves. Who knew Death had a sense of humor?
Another demon appears in a puff of sulfur and Sam thinks maybe this is Alistair because he certainly doesn't look happy.
'How dare you summon me you jumped up crossroads hussy,' the new demon growls menacingly advancing on Crowley.
Crowley, who seems to have gotten his sangfroid back, makes a slight gesture in Death's direction with a smirk. 'Don't think I won't remember you, minion,' Alistair spits in the lesser demon's direction as he turns to address Death.
Tone morphing to one of respect, he addresses the personification of Death, 'And what can I do for you today, sir?'
'We'll be playing for Dean Winchester this afternoon. If you could be so kind as to retrieve him.' Death replies, seemingly oblivious to the byplay between the two demons.
With a displeased look on his face, carefully turned so Death can't see it, Alistair gestures to the corner of the living room area and what looks to be a human sized canary cage appears. Inside the cage is Dean, dressed in only a loincloth, collar and shackles.
'Dean!' Sam calls out as he starts forward, his brother turning toward the sound of his voice.
'Sam! What the hell are you doing here?' Dean presses against the bars of his cage.
'Aht, ah,' Crowley intercepts Sam, 'Not unless you win, little Winchester.'
'Win?' Dean questions.
'I made a deal with Death, Dean. I win a game against him and I get you back.' Sam explains.
'You did what?' Dean hollers. 'Sammy, do you even know what you're doing?'
'Now, now, children,' Crowley interrupts, 'no fighting. Although,' he gives Dean a speculative, leering look.
'You'd better get me out of here Sam.' Dean glares at his brother, backing up from the predatory look that's appeared in Crowley's eyes.
'Yes,' Death interrupts in his dry hollow tones. 'Let us proceed, there are souls to collect and schedules to keep.'
With another leer at Dean, Crowley snaps his fingers, a twister mat appearing on the shag carpet and the spinner in his hands. 'As the mortal, you go first little Winchester.' Giving the pointer a twirl, he announces the first move. 'Right foot green.'
Sam is so sunk.
x