Unfinished Gems

Rifles and Ravens - 7 - FIN

"I'm not going," said Raven flatly.

"You don't get a choice. Either you come willingly, or we'll drag your tiny British ass out of the bunker by force. Loki said he'd help too!" said Dean grinning evilly.

"Explain to me again the point of leaving my safe bunker to go out drinking."

"Again, you don't get a choice. You haven't left Nevermore since Zachariah found out you were going to be active with the Winchesters and openly thwarting his plans. You've had Castiel going out to get groceries, and then you complain when he doesn't get the fresh stuff you always pick out," said Loki. "You're going to Oktoberfest even if I have to snap you there."

Raven scowled.

"I haven't gone out drinking since that night before my friends were killed because some moron said the name and didn't care about the Taboo," said Raven.

"All the more reason you need to relax and take a few days away from the books," said Dean.

"Fine, but I'm challenging both of you idiots to a drinking contest the first chance I get."

Loki, to the side, was trying very, very hard not to laugh his ass off about something.

~

"Chug, chug, chug!" shouted an amused Loki, who wasn't even close to drunk.

Sam had tried to call off his part, but Loki wasn't having it.

So he now stuck with an almost guaranteed hangover from far too many drinks of what was probably watered down beer. Loki, the jerk, was still snickering about something.

Sam could vaguely see Loki taking bets with gusto.

Then he heard the thump as Dean finally lost the contest, and Raven, the cheeky bastard, drank two more and barely looked drunk at all.

Sam was barely able to shamble into the hotel room Raven had paid for (he had heard stories of what the Winchesters considered acceptable) and crashed onto the bed without bothering to cover up. Loki managed to put Dean into the other one, though he was nice enough to cover up Sam and his brother before heading to Raven's room.

He was out like a light within minutes.

In Raven's room...

"Oh man, talk about lightweights," said Raven laughing. He was barely buzzed.

"Hey, not every human is lucky enough to have the ability to drink Bacchus under the table you know," said Loki, snickering. "Here's your cut by the way."

"You're just mad because the first time I challenged you to a drinking contest, I was able to drink Thor and his buddies under the table while you could barely finish the pot," cackled Raven.

"And then you didn't even have the decency to have a monster hangover for a month!" complained Loki.

"Not my fault angels are lightweights."

"Brat."

"Old geezer," Raven shot back.

Raven had been truthful to the Winchesters and the others. He had been born human and had lived as one for the better part of his life.

What he left out was that the last time he died, the various gods of death in the universe had gotten tired of the damn shockwaves he kept sending out upon his 'demise', no matter how temporary it was.

So they banded together, and shortly before yet another one of his mortal deaths, turned him into a god. Well, as close as you could get.

Basically he became the 'administrator' for Death. Or 'Master' of Death, of you asked the idiot wizards.