The sun begins to rise in the East. I sit at the altar of the church and watch it through the stained glass windows. By now, Dean, Sam and Sigrid are aware of the situation. They'll never be here in time though, and I find peace in that. I just hope they don't come anyway to find the remnants of what could be a massacre.

I stash my weapons bag, keeping a few things on me - a gun loaded with bullets from melted angel blades and an angel blade from Cas himself.

I take my place back at the altar and wait. Soon enough, I hear marching up the wooden steps outside. The doors open and I'm faced with my father, along with five other reapers in tow. I don't recognize any of them, but I'm sure they've all got some type of political standing with my father.

"Mallory," Death coos. "What a surprise. You look...different."

"Earth changes a reaper," I joke tensely.

"Where are your friends?" He asks.

I shake my head. "Far from here. You have no business with them, I'm what you want. Leave them out of this."

My father laughs a cold, sharp chuckle. "They hid you, killed our kind, and turned more against us. They're just as guilty as you."

"Sir, why don't we focus on the task at hand?" A young blonde female mutters. "We have her. There's no way she can fight all of us off."

Death grins wickedly. "You're right."

"What if I didn't come here to fight?" I ask, even though it's a total lie. "I'll come back. You can lock me up again and I'll stay this time, if you leave my friends alone."

"Your feeble attempts of negotiating are worthless," Death taunts me. "You've had your chance. You know you won't walk out of here."

I look at the floor and nod. If this is how it's going to be, then so be it. Drawing fast, I take my gun out and fire two shots at the reapers. One is a headshot, the other pierces the blonde girl's shoulder. One down.

From there, it's a blur. The other five rush me, and it's a fight of tooth and nail to survive and face my father. I won't lose my life to another reaper.

I channel all of my energy into healing my superficial injuries as they occur, and throwing reapers off of me as they attack. Every time I send one flying into a wall, it buys me time to deal with another.

One falls unconscious as she hits a wall for the second time. I finish the girl I shot in the shoulder with a slice of the throat. Two down.

The two conscious reapers are both men twice my size. They put up a good fight, ridding me of my gun and battering me to bruises in the process. My energy begins to deplete, and right as I stop healing, one of them delivers a knife gouge into my side.

"Fuck!" I yell, feeling my blood seep into my clothes.

This gives them the upper hand. They take me down, one pinning down each arm. I yell in protest, demanding them to get off of me. I can see my gun in my peripheral vision, it's just out of reach. If I could free my right arm, I could get out of this.

With what little energy I have left, I kick the one restraining my right side. He soars into one of the pews and I make quick work of reaching my gun. I grab it and shoot the man holding my left side.

I stand up, weary and faint from blood loss. Not wasting any time, I shoot the other reaper that held me down.

I face my father, ready to enter my final battle. I know this is it. He stares me down with an amused look. Before I can ask what he thinks is so entertaining, I'm grabbed by one last reaper that I forgot about. The one that was only unconscious - not dead.

She looks strikingly close to Sigrid, and in my blood loss-induced delirium, it's hard to fight her.

"No," I whimper. My rationale is slipping and I start to truly think I'm killing my friend.

She swings hard and delivers an ear-ringing blow to the side of my head. It takes me to the floor, doubled over. I drop my gun again and she's sure to kick it away this time. Then she plants her boot into my stomach with a forceful kick. If I had anything in my stomach, I would've thrown up.

I take out the angel blade and stand up on wobbling legs. It's just a sparring fight now. I block her blows as well as I can, physically reciting all the training Castiel gave me. She's good with a blade though, and catches me across the cheek with the tip of her knife.

I take a stab at her, but she dodges, and I barely knick her shoulder. She hisses at the pain. In another attempt to plunge the blade into her chest, she grabs my arm and squeezes it so hard that I hear bones break. I scream in pain as my wrist shatters and I drop my blade.

She releases my wrist. I drop to my knees, trying to ease the pain that debilitates my right arm. She walks in circles around me, assessing my weakened state.

"You know, you put up a good fight for someone who knows they're going to die anyway," she taunts.

I don't respond. I drop, lying on my stomach. It's a tactic; as she continues to make remarks, I slowly inch the angel blade up my left sleeve - another thing Cas showed me. Once it's secure, I decide to respond.

"Just kill me," I mutter.

"Stand up and take it like a fighter," she commands. Exactly what I wanted.

I climb to my feet and look her in the eye. She stares me down meanly. After a second, she raises her blade to kill me, but I block her blow with my crippled forearm and messily bury my angel blade into her abdomen. No one talks about how hard it is to stab someone with your non dominant hand.

She falls to the floor screaming. I take in the bloodbath around me. I can see my vision fading at the edges and I know I don't have much time. I stare at my father, ten feet away from me, holding his scythe.

"Impressive," he notes. "The Winchesters really know how to make a killing machine out of all their pets. You know you're not the first, right?"

"Save it," I deflect his speculations.

"You won't be the last, either," Death chuckles. "They'll get over you, just like they did with the prophet and the nerdy girl. They'll move onto the next person they can use as a weapon until it's inconvenient for them."

I glare at him. I know he's wrong, but the words still hurt. Finally, he moves toward me. The sunlight glints off his scythe. I start to accept my demise as he places his hands on the wooden crook.

I close my eyes, expecting to die, but instead I'm melee'd with the butt of the handle. It adds insult to my literal injuries as I fall over with the force of the blow. I spit blood onto the floor and get to my knees.

"It didn't have to be this way, you know," my father sighs.

Blood falls from my mouth as I respond, "Yes it did."

Death raises his scythe.

My heart pounds in my ears.

I close my eyes and think of Dean. It brings me comfort in my final moments.

Death lets out a yell as he swings, and everything slows. The church doors burst open. Gunshots are fired. I'm alive for the time being. I cover my head and wait for them to stop.

When I open my eyes, I see Sam, Dean and Cas in the sunlight that floods through the doorway. My father is facing them now, the back of his coat riddled with bullet holes that I know didn't hurt him.

"Cas," I breathe. "No..."

"I didn't bring them here," he defends.

"What a lovely surprise. You're here for the grand finale," Death says. "You even get to participate."

My throat goes dry as Dean's eyes meet mine. I can't tell what he's feeling; probably a million things all at once.

"There's no reason for you to kill her," Dean reasons. "What's one less reaper under your control?"

"It's the principle, Dean," Death drones. "I can't let my people think that I would let someone go against me, let alone my own daughter, as pitiful as she is."

"You're going to have to go through us first," Sam steps up.

I shake my head. This is the last thing I wanted. I couldn't be mad at Castiel; I knew he probably did everything in his power to stop them. Sometimes there's just no stopping the Winchesters.

Death laughs. "As if I couldn't do that."

With the flick of his hand, all three of them are sent into a wall and fall into a heap on the floor. Quickly, they scramble, drawing weapons and ready to fight.

"Ah ah," Death says. "That was just a warning shot. I have a proposition, and you boys could walk out of here alive."

They stay quiet, waiting for my father's pitch.

"Dean," Death beckons. "Come here."

Dean looks at me and walks in front of Death. My heart is beating at a million miles per hour.

Death holds his scythe out to Dean. "You take this, and kill her, you three will walk from here unscathed. You won't hear from me any further. If you can do that, you get out of this."

"Fuck you," Dean growls. "No."

"Oh, won't you reconsider?" Death asks.

"Dean, it's okay, please," I beg him. If I'm going to die, it may as well be with the knowledge that they'll be safe.

Dean stares down at me, knelt on the ground and bleeding still. Little by little as my energy rebuilds, I heal myself, but I don't think it'll be enough. I just want to hold on long enough for him.

I let out a sigh of relief as Dean grabs the scythe. Death is significantly less scary when it comes from someone you love.

He stands over me, then kneels down to my level. His eyes brim with tears. "I don't want to do this."

"You have to," I beg. "It's okay. I want you safe. This is the way."

"I love you," he tells me one last time. His voice breaks.

"I love you more. I forgive you."

Dean stands and readies the weapon. I take one last look at the eyes and lips that I love so much. The man that I trust with my life will be the one to take it.

I close my eyes and wait, ready to go. I hear the metal swoop through the air above me head, and then hear it pierce something else. Part of me wonders if he missed, but he didn't miss me.

I open my eyes.

The scythe is buried in my father's rib cage.

Silently, my father stares at me, and turns to dust.

Dean Winchester just killed Death.