Work Text:
Death had always had it rough. He was forced to watch as everything around him decayed and then decayed again. For all his existence this was how it had been. God had made it so.
So Death didn’t think that it was selfish that he take something for himself for a change. Since the first life had pattered onto the earth, he had been there to force it back into the ground. For its body to decay, rotting into nothing. So gifting himself with one life, was surely okay. He had earned it.
But, Death wouldn’t have let just anything become his. No. Death was not stupid. A worthy companion or not one at all, that was the decision. Challenges and myths spread across every universe. Each species a different story. Each one only telling part of the truth. A holy grail, a willing sacrifice, an unwilling one. A life of contemplation, a runic puzzle, a ritual requiring objects beyond comprehension.
Many had tried, some had completed their tasks, but none had been worthy. They had done their actions for selfish reasons, had been too emotionally attached to the people that they had left in their universe. None of them had understood what it meant to take Death’s hand in theirs. They feared, worshiped or craved. They had not understood.
But then a young man had come along. Killer green eyes and a bird nest of black hair. He hadn’t meant to complete the three brother’s task. Hadn’t even noticed that he had. He had stepped into the bright light, sacrificing himself for a world that had sacrificed him. A world that had let him go, with no one left to call a friend. He had been so perfect. So beautiful. And all his. Death had never had a chance against those eyes.
That had been two hundred years ago. He had taken him, his master, Harry Potter, showing him all that there was to see. It had taken time. Harry’s human life dominating his thoughts. But they said time healed all wounds and seeing the true thoughts of those that had dominated your life could rapidly change a perspective.
Death managed to teach Harry to see past the triviality of mortality. Then, In turn Harry had shown Death how to live. A life filled with mundane, human things, even as Harry was beginning to look past them himself.
Then Death and Harry had experienced new things together. A life, emotions, experiences and pizza. Their first pizza, shared together in an Italy not so different from Harry’s own universe. They had been hooked.
Death had secluded himself from the supernatural world. His reapers could handle it. Only the most difficult problems needed his attention. The rest of it was for Harry. His beautiful, strong, majestic, powerful, loving wizard. For once in his existence he felt a sense of belonging, just by looking into those green orbs.
It was their anniversary, two hundred years together. Lucifer was on the loose, but there was little that the immortal being could do, or cared to do, for that matter. He merely wanted to do something special. His wizard deserved it after all.
A horrifically fatal natural disaster and the best pizza in the state. That sounded like the perfect plan. He was sure that his little wizard would find the situation rather enjoyable. Especially for what he had planned for dessert.
Lucifer may think that he had Death under his thumb. That he had his powers at his beck and call. What a fool. Death had only one master, he could not serve another. Letting the bratty child think he had even an inkling of control was far more amusing than enlightening the fallen angel. It was far more fun to wait for when the blow would be the most devastating.
Death had left Lucifer’s chains dancing around his form, appearing as a bound slave. The very thought was laughable. The chains were worthless. They could be snapped in a second.
Death played with the gold strands as he sat at the table in the restaurant. He did so enjoy Chicago pizza. A shame to destroy the whole city. Maybe just the outskirts. He was sure that Harry would be satisfied with half a million deaths. Three million seemed a little extreme, especially when there were so many places to eat in the city centre.
He’d ordered their food, killed a fool of a man on the way in and been served his cola. Now to wait for his wizard. Knowing Harry he was sure that the man would arrive just as the food was set on the table.
Moments after the waitress had placed the pizza on the table, she slumped to the floor, her heart stopping in her chest. Before any of the patrons had a chance to react, their own hearts had shuddered to a halt. Faces slammed into tables, body’s slumping to the floor, glass shattering from limp hands. It was perfect.
Right on cue the back door opened, a slight creak of hinges. Footsteps attempting to be discreet. However this was not Harry. No, Death knew exactly who this was; an ant who had overestimated his own importance. Death ignored him. He had more important matters to attend to.
The ant got closer and closer. He thought himself inconspicuous? What a joke. Even as the scythe clutched in his hand, clattered to the floor, the man still thought that he had gone undetected. Death really couldn’t pass up the chance at messing with the ant.
“Thank you for returning that. I had noticed it’s absence.”
The ant flinched. Oh this one would be fun to crush under his feet.
“Your not going to kill me?” The ant sounded nervous. Good.
“Well, I’d considered it” Death was almost teasing. “Sit, Dean Winchester.”
The ant really did believe that he would not get fried by the magnifying glass. Harry would have called it cute. Death refused to admit that he may have picked up the habit.
Speaking of, it inevitably could only have been a matter of minutes before the man showed up. So as the shop door jingled Death knew just who was joining them. It was obvious the ant did not.
Dean’s head whipped around. His eyes pinning Harry, his heart increasing its rate, in fear.
“Get the fuck out kid!” the Ant’s voice was angry with a hint of desperation, tingling at the edges. Delicious. Fifty years ago and Harry would have played with him until he didn’t know up from down. But the Harry of now was through with playing with humans.
“Death” Harry raised an eyebrow at his partner in eternity. “Replacing me so soon?”
Death smirked. He did enjoy their little games.
“Never, dearest.” He threw a challenging gaze. “Care to join us for pizza?”
Harry took a few steps toward the table. Dean's eyes were on him, pinned in utter confusion. Death could almost see the cogs turning in the machine that was close to breaking.
Harry sat without another word, only looking at the two people now seated with him. He had had two centuries with the man sitting opposite him and he didn’t care about the man beside him. He didn’t need to say anything else.
However it seemed that the ant was not satisfied. Humans were so very needy. Harry could barely remember the time when he had been like that, if he ever had been. He had had the weight on his shoulders from the days his parents were killed. He'd not had the time to be so needy.
“Who..who are you?” The ant asked with indignation.
Harry rolled his eyes. What a nuisance. Maybe more of a flea than an ant. Harry merely turned his gaze to Death.
“He came here to ask for your ring and he doesn’t know who I am?” It was a scoff of scorn at the human that was woefully unprepared.
“It seems so” Death gave a smile that pulled at his face.
“What a pain” Harry sighed. “I had been looking forward to the day you had planned”
“So had I” Death didn’t look very put out. “Although this could be more fun?”
“No”
That was all Harry needed to say. Death gave a sigh. Well, there went his possible source of entertainment. But Harry came first. It was their anniversary, after all.
Dean violently pulled the ring that the ant had hardly glanced at since Harry had entered. The movement quickly drew Dean’s gaze. His eyes wide with surprise. Death threw the precious ring to the table with barely a glance.
“Just bring it back when you’re done.” Death said in a bored voice. Dean only stared.
Harry stood up, a smile forming on his face.
“Get the Scythe” words through a vicious smirk “I want to start a Tsunami this year.”
Death rolled his eyes, veering behind him to pick up the abandoned weapon.
“As you wish, Master.”
The pair left the shop without even glancing back.
Dean stared after them, Death and the man that he had just claimed his master. His mouth was wide, his eyes not understanding. He wasn’t sure how long he sat there. But as he stood to leave, it was only after a few steps and an ashamed scurry back, that he had the ring clutched in his hands.
At least he could end the apocalypse. He supposed that at least he had gained that. As he watched the news the next day, he tried not to think about the death count that was estimated to be in the tens of thousands and still rising. A tsunami, they said.