I am four years old. Everyone is taller than me. We're at the swimming pool. There is a big slide into the deep water. I want to slide down it. So, so bad. But the water is deep, and I can't swim.

It's fine though. Mama promises to catch me.

I loooove the slide and Mama catches me out of the water! It's so much fun! I'm safe in her arms, my eyes and mouth open. Then she dunks me under. My mouth, nose, and eyes are burning. I'm coughing. Mama and Papa laugh.

"It was just a joke. It's funny.", Mama says.

But you promised, I think, you promised.

Allie is crying. Her tiny voice is desperate. Mama and Papa are probably too exhausted to get up. I'm soooo tired, but I can't sleep with my baby sister's lonely cries in my ears. So I crawl up the stairs and into her dark room. She's in her crib, looking at me, stretching out her arms. I soothe her back to sleep, that's what big sisters do.

"Papa is moving out today", Mama tells me. I'm 15 and getting ready for school. I stop. Stare at her. Don't dare to ask why. Neither does Allie. I nod, taking Allie's little hand in mine. We walk to school together. Allie cries, so I can't.

I'm 17 and have no friends. Too busy with Allie, my job, and all the chores. When Mama isn't at work, she's out drinking. Kyle promises me a better life. Promises us a better life.

"Let's run away together. Anywhere is better than here."

So the next time Mama says she's going to stay at her boyfriend's for the weekend, we take Allie and leave.

I have trouble breastfeeding, so when Hope is three weeks old, I have to change to formula. It's expensive. Kyle isn't happy.

"Useless.", he says, "You aren't even a real woman!" He hits me. It's not the last time.

I work so much, I hardly know what day it is. When I get home, Kyle isn't in our bed. And Hope isn't in hers, either. I sprint to Allie's room. There is Hope, cuddled in her arms.

Kyle doesn't come home that night. Or the next.

But the people he owes money to do come. So I pick up my girls and what little we own and get on a bus. We get off in the middle of nowhere because when the bus stops, there is a help wanted sign at the gas station.

I'm now 25, Allie is 17 and little Hope is 6. Allie is doing so well in school. She has a job, yes, but for college, not to support me. We are happy here, in the middle of nowhere.

I step out into the road when suddenly a car runs a red light and hits me. I feel nothing. All I think about is my girls. I cannot leave them. They need me.

With a deep breath, Harry pulled himself back. Away from the soul that had just passed so close to him and into his own memories.

There was a young shop assistant standing in front of him, her pimply round face caught in an earnest expression of concern.

"Sir?", she asked and judging by her mild tone it wasn't the first time. Allie, Harry realized belatedly. The girl was Allie. It was so different to see her without all the love attached to her sister's gaze, he almost hadn't recognized her.

"Sir? Are you alright? Do you need me to call someone?"

Poor girl probably thought she was dealing with an old and confused man.

Not too far off, Harry thought and finally shook his head.

"No, but thank you. You just... reminded me of someone and I got a little carried away. Don't worry."

"Oh, okay!", she smiled, honestly relieved and Harry began to plot his escape. Her sister had just died, and the poor girl didn't even know it yet. A soul, ready to leave, just passing by her loved ones for the last time. Not a ghost, just... a traveler. That's what Harry had begun to call this phenomenon ever since he started to notice them a month ago.

He had to leave before he does something impulsive and brings the young woman back. Maybe, if he...

Outside an ambulance rushed by and he closed his eyes. She'd been found. He couldn't bring her back without a lot of people noticing and Harry didn't like to be noticed.

Anxiety, anger, and sadness settled in his chest. That poor soul. He didn't even know her name. She had done everything for a better life and now poor Allie would probably have to look after Hope. Maybe foster care. Another life cut short. A family torn apart. Hope lost.

Allie ignored the sirens outside, still eager to help Harry.

"Does your cat have any specific needs?", she asked and Harry stared at the cat food in his hand, dumbfounded. He had forgotten his errand.

Carefully he put the food away and reached into his pocket, summoning an item from the depth of it.

"May I say something without wanting to sound creepy?", he asked and Allie's face grew worried.

"Okay...", she hesitated.

"You remind me of someone I knew long ago. A friend. This belonged to her. I think you should have it." And he pulled an ancient jade brooch out of his pocket and placed it into her hands.

Allie stared at it in shock.

"Sir, that's..."

"She was a very brave woman, who faced many challenges and never let anything keep her down. I once helped her out when she was desperate and when she was rich and powerful she gave me this. I think you should have it. If you ever feel you have no option left, you can sell it. It should catch you a pretty penny. But... go to someone who really knows antiquities."

"I... I can't accept that! If it's valuable..."

"I'm an old man with more riches than I could ever spend. But to you, it will make a difference."

"But..."

Darkness. Suddenly there was Darkness at the edge of his consciousness.

The Darkness had returned to this universe, and it was approaching fast.

"Goodbye, Allie.", Harry simply declared and walked out of the little shop before the shocked girl could react in any way.

Where to? He could apparate out in hopes of drawing her away, but where would they go? And was it coming towards Harry? Or his boys? Because then there was no other option than to wait for it right here. So instead of panicking, he calmly walked down the small Main Road and towards the Diner they often got breakfast in. There was an alley behind it. Maybe that's where...

A shudder ran down Harry's back. The Darkness was... a woman? He groaned. The little girl from the Hospital. The Darkness had not just taken over her body, but kept it and aged it up. And now there she was. Barefoot, in a black dress and with long, loose hair, standing in front of the Diner he had wanted to walk past and looking at him expectantly.

"We need to talk, Master of Death.", she told him, and even looking at her made Harry's skin crawl. His fingers twitched with a desperate need to curl his new powers around the consumed souls swirling around in that abyss and just...pulling. Pulling with everything he had. Drawing on all his years, his powers, and just... see what kind of damage he could do to the cosmic entity in front of him.

"Master of Death, eh? I'm not calling you The Darkness like we are a bunch of teenagers playing an MMORPG.", he shrugged but held the door open for her anyway. Maybe wait before going full nuclear on her ass. And that way he didn't have to look at her for a moment, either.

"You may call me Amara.", she told him and sat down at the first vacant table.

"And my name is Harry. That's so much easier than unwieldy titles, isn't it?", Harry sat down across from her and smiled at the waitress, who looked a little puzzled by their behavior.

"In this language, certainly. Do you prefer communicating in another one?"

"No. Funnily enough, this one is as close to my native language as we are going to get. So let me enjoy my feeling of nostalgia a little while longer, will you?"

"As you wish.", Amara nodded.

"What can I get for you two then?", the waitress had walked over and held her paper and pen ready.

"Coffee for me, please. And a lot of it.", Harry gave her a (what he hoped was a) winning smile.

"The same for me.", Amara agreed, her dark gaze never leaving Harry's face. He got the distinct impression that she was on her best behavior for his sake. Maybe this really wasn't headed for a fight?

"And the most chocolaty thing you have, please.", Harry added. Might as well enjoy himself.

"That would probably be our triple-choc brownies today, Sir."

"Brownies! I need at least two. Amara?", he looked at her expectantly, trying to gauge how far she was willing to go to keep the peace.

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she nodded, and the waitress left with their order, returned almost immediately, and set their plates and coffee down in front of them.

"Thank you.", Harry smiled, and she looked at him nervously. Apparently, he and Amara didn't exactly give off 'chill vibes'.

So while Amara looked at her brownies with a mixture of disgust and puzzlement, Harry took a big mouth full and (still letting the chocolate melt in his mouth) asked: "You had left this universe. Why return now?"

"I read your gospel."

"My... oh no. Not the books."

"My brother has always needed an audience. But it is quite useful when doing research."

"Your brother?"

"God."

Harry finally swallowed his bite of brownie, no longer so eager to annoy Amara with bad manners, instead blurting out the first thing he could think of: "God. Your brother locked you up? Why?"

"Because he needs an audience. And I wasn't enough."

"Not a big fan of creation?"

"Are you? An eternity of pain and suffering. And for what? Because my brother grows bored?"

"And you want to do what? Destroy everything?"

She looked at him and took a small sip of coffee, before asking all too innocently: "Has it started yet? His plan to make you give in?"

Harry let out an annoyed huff. Damn, he really didn't like this. Was she trying to keep him busy, really smug, or just... maybe being annoyingly vague was her idea of taking revenge for his chewing open-mouthed. Or taking her food away after she... hatched.

"Are we just going to ask each other more and more questions?"

"No. We don't have to. I already have the answers to my questions. Can you say the same?"

Damn it, she really had him there. It had been a very long time since he'd had so many questions and no way to get answers... except for asking the soul-eating sister of God in front of him. And he did NOT like this feeling. Suddenly he felt like that overwhelmed teenager all those years ago.

"My clueless self has been content for quite a while. Thanks for asking.", Harry told Amara spitefully.

"That was before my arrival. And before you had someone to lose."

Amara's tone wasn't threatening, but Harry felt white-hot anger at her words, his hand involuntarily curling in on itself and finally, finally giving in to the urge he'd been feeling since he laid eyes on her. He pulled.

Amara's body went rigid, and her eyes zoomed in on his face. There, just for a tiny moment, he could see fear in her eyes.

"God is going to kill the Winchesters."

Amara's slightly strained voice cut through his anger and Harry took a deep breath, releasing his hold on her.

"Explain."

"That is why I am here.", Amara took a sip from her coffee, obviously trying to move on from what had just happened. He had scared her. Was he stronger than she had expected?

"Master of Death, it's not just a title.", Amara continued, "My brother... he is Being, Creation, Matter. And he wanted... distractions. But with all his creatures, something was always missing. They were never quite right. He wants... stories. And they were boring. So when he tried again with the humans, he added something. A tiny part of himself. So the humans would be able to live freely... and create."

"Souls.", Harry realized.

"Yes. It is why they hold so much power. But it still wasn't enough. Humans need something to motivate them. And so my brother created Death. Certainty and finality to all life on all planets and in all his worlds. And then what?"

"Souls go to Heaven or Hell and are 'stored' there.", Harry mused, "But that would mean God would have to continuously provide the power for new souls."

Amara raised an eyebrow, "Yes. And Heaven and Hell, or whatever afterlife the soul in question belongs to, would get more and more powerful. Some souls are never stored but recycled. That depends on the belief."

"That sounds like a bad idea.", Harry's mind was racing, running through all the possible scenarios in his head... he didn't even care who was sitting in front of him anymore.

"The last enemy that shall be destroyed is Death."

"What did you just... Where have you heard these words?"

"I told you: I read your Gospel. He could do it himself, of course. Take the old souls back into himself and create new ones... or take the old and forgotten souls and let them be reborn, but he is lazy. He wants fun. Not work. So someone else had to do it."

"Me."

"At first. There are many Masters of Death. And many Harry Potters. Not every Master of Death is a Harry Potter and not every Harry Potter is Master of Death, but you... you are the first one. One of the very first souls he ever created. Born, reborn, and born again. And always molded to be what he needed: A pawn that would let all those souls, all that power simply flow through him. Maybe without noticing, but certainly without using his abilities. Everything you went through. Everything HE put you through... all so you would never meddle with his design."

Faces long forgotten were rushing past his inner eye. He wanted to tell her no. Wanted to call her a liar, but... it made sense. All of it. Too much sense.

"One of the first souls?", he asked instead, without looking at her.

"First there was Adam. He is still alive. Then Lilith. Her soul was corrupted. Then..."

"Eve. My soul used to be Eve? I used to be Eve."

"Yes. The Mother. The one to bring life into his world. And when she grew too powerful? He punished her. Took everything from her. Until she gave up and found a way to end her life. Then he simply had you reborn, without those memories. And created a new life."

"You said there is more of us. So why have I been to other worlds? Worlds that even had a Harry Potter?", Harry knew he was reaching, but he desperately needed to find a flaw in her explanation. There was no way his whole life had been one long, thought-out, planned trap. He just refused to even entertain that notion.

"Too many Deaths and Masters would be too much of a hassle for my brother. So you always have many worlds under your... jurisdiction. When the worlds become too many, he will create a new pair. When the Winchesters killed your counterpart on his favorite little world, the flow of souls was disrupted for a tiny moment before his followers took over his duties and that mistake pulled you forward. But my brother didn't want you messing with his favorite little toy, so he created this...", she looked around the Diner, but Harry got the impression she meant far more than this place, "... and shoved you in it. And that wasn't the only set of Winchesters that broke the seal at the same time, either. So I was... stretched thin before I could gather myself in one place. I have to thank you, though. Copying his main world like this has weakened my brother, too. Otherwise, I don't think he would have ignored me for so long."

Damn it. Damn her and everything she had told him. If she was right... he knew how powerful one soul could be. Were there really countless ones passing through him at all times? It was possible... Maybe his powers weren't new. Maybe he had just never really tried them. Who was he even kidding? Of course, he hadn't. He didn't like to interfere with the natural order. Natural order. God's plan, more like it.

"You said he has driven me to suicide before. You think he's planning to do so again?"

"I assume he's concerned. He gave you a hard life. And those you care about. Now you have started to explore your powers... and I have returned. My brother and I will talk. And we will fight. You could tip the scale in either direction."

"You want me to help you fight God."

"I want you to hold on. He has two options: he could recruit you in his fight to imprison me again. Or he can try to take you out of the equation."

"And how exactly would he do that?", Harry narrowed his eyes at her, remembering her words from before.

"I'm not sure. I can tell you what he has done before."

Harry gestured impatiently for her to continue.

"He has surrounded you in misery. Sad fates you can't change. Souls, you can't save. He might not have interfered too much before, but now he will. He will make your powers seem useless. And then he will take those you care about in a way you can't change. He has hidden souls before. You may ask the brothers. He will kill them and do the same. And then, he'll try to take your... what do you call him? Your follower? Death calls his followers Reapers. What is the term for yours?"

"I don't have... Oh, damn it, you mean Castiel."

"I can see the bond between you two. Some souls now flow through him. He is connected to you. How... brazen to take one of my brother's flock as your first follower."

"That wasn't on purpose."

"That is your business."

A sudden crazy thought crossed Harry's mind. He could create more followers. He could bind Sam and Dean to him. Give them his powers. Make them stronger. Make them immortal. He could protect them, even from God. They could all live for a very long time and he... he wouldn't have to be alone anymore.

"If I sit this fight out, and you win, what will you do to creation, Darkness?"

"I will end this suffering. All this pain and..."

"No.", Harry interrupted her, "Spare me the ideology. You told me God would kill those I love. So what will you do?"

"I have already given you the means to protect those you love. I will stay off this world. This one will be yours. A whole universe, where neither I nor my brother will interfere."

"Ha. And I shouldn't worry about the rest of them?"

"That is my offer. It is more than my brother is likely to give you. I know him. He doesn't like to share. I don't think he will ask for your help. It's your life he wants. And once your soul has left this body, you can't fight him anymore, and he can take back your powers and strength into himself. He will need that boost to fight me. You are more useful to him dead."

"So you want me to step back and let you fight in exchange for..."

"Every soul in this universe. And it is a big universe with many planets. He didn't have time for meddling. He just copied his favorite for you."

Allie's face from earlier came back to him. Her sister died today. Her soul passed by him. Did God do this? Did God want him to be sad? To be reminded of all the lives he couldn't save?

"What is your decision, Master of Death?"