Dean yawned, stretching luxuriously and blinking at his motel room surroundings. Everything was very typical, i.e., it looked like the seventies had come here to die.

Dean settled back down in his bed.

What to do today?

Nothing explicitly weird had happened in about a week. Well, if you discounted the bizarre fever everyone had gotten infected with about the whole Royal Wedding thing. That was weird and scary, but not the kind of weird and scary they were looking for.

It had been, in technical terminology, a "Quiet Week".

So now what?

He could watch a movie, he supposed, or wash the car... he was amazed that he was even getting the chance to think about this, because usually, as soon as he'd thought "oh, it's a bit quiet, maybe I'll get a chance to relax", that was when-

"Dean. I need a favour."

Dean groaned at the Angel who was giving him the Business-Like Stare (trademark) that meant he was about to have a rough weekend.

Next to Castiel, who Dean barely glanced at because, let's face it, he was hardly going to be sporting a new outfit or piercing or anything worth looking at, stood a girl.

The girl was young, probably in her late teens or early twenties, with long, black hair and big dark eyes. If her face hadn't been covered in two parts eyeliner and three parts scowl, she probably would have been quite pretty, with flawless white skin that looked like ivory, dressed tastefully in a billowing white blouse and black skinny jeans. She had an up-market rock-chick look about her which, again, could have been pretty if it weren't for the fact that she was looking at the entire room, and Castiel in particular, like he had just killed her cat and then served it to her on a bun. She was petite... well, short and scrawny, which was sort of the same, Dean supposed, which made the fact that Castiel was gripping her like he would a prisoner a little ridiculous.

She raised an immaculately shaped eyebrow at Dean, a sneer spreading from her black, lipsticked lips to her dark, round eyes.

"This is the best you can do? Please..."

Castiel ignored her.

"I need you to keep her here. Don't let her get away from you, even for a second. She's causing major problems."

"Why?" Dean sighed, grabbing his jeans off the floor. "Can I at least get changed?"

"Calm down, chowder-head, I've seen it all before."

Castiel continued to ignore her. Dean was glad he was already wearing boxers.

"She's... difficult. Her "personal mission" is disrupting the war in heaven and..."

"Damn right it is!" The girl nodded, trying to pull away from Castiel, but with little success. "I will not be silenced! I will not give in until my demands are met! I demand to speak with the management! You can take my knife, but you'll never take my..."

At which point, Castiel apparently got tired of listening to her and tapped her on the forehead, sending her to sleep. He held her up by the wrist.

"She's powerful; she'll come to quite quickly. Come on."

"What?"

"We need to make a circle." Castiel looked at Dean as if it was his fault for not being psychic. Dean went to argue, then decided it was too early to get threatened by an irate angel, so he kept his mouth shut and drew the symbols Cas told him to draw, where he was told to draw them.

They weren't enochian.

It was only after the circle was finished, and the girl was starting to stir awake in the middle of it, that Dean turned to the angel.

"So who... or, I guess, what... is she?"

Cas stood perfectly still for a moment, his eyes narrowed. Then he started looking at everything in the room but Dean.

"She's a... a spirit. Of sorts."

"What kind of spirit?" Dean spoke in the manner of a parent asking a child exactly how they had been "playing" with the credit cards.

"She's... pagan."

"As in, "Pagan God"?" Flashes of Kali and Boldr danced in Dean's mind, and he became very aware that the girl would not be happy once she had woken up.

"Oh, no... no. I wouldn't deliver you a Pagan God and expect you to keep them here without help."

"Well... Good."

"I mean, technically she's only a Demi-God."
"What?"

"She's only half god... of course; she's technically half frost giant, too."

"What!"

"Her name is Hel..."

"What?"

"And I have to go now."

"Wait..."

Castiel had, of course, already gone. The girl, Hel, was of course beginning to wake up, and Dean, of course, was regretting ever waking up in the first place.

Hel glared around the motel room and then up at Dean, with a look in her eyes that told him, if the circle hadn't been there, she would quite easily have torn his head off and used it as a decorative vase, with his headless body has a matching coat rack.

Dean made an executive decision.

"SAM!"

"Hel. Norse goddess; resides over Helheim." Sam scrolled down the webpage, reading out facts in between mouthfuls of cereal. Dean watched Hel closely as she sat on the floor and pouted. "Cares for all that died of sickness or old age. Is one of three children born by Angrboða... a frost giant, and... oh..."

Sam bit his lip, his face crumpled into something that wasn't a smirk or a grimace, but somehow encapsulated the main elements of both.

"And?"

"Loki."

Dean paused, looking from Sam to the girl. She had refused to speak since she had woken up. Turning her head away, pouting and sticking her tongue out. The one thing she had said was that she refused to deal with underlings and demanded to speak with the man in charge. By which both brothers had presumed she meant she'd be protesting until Cas came back.

Now, though, she seemed different. She was looking at the floor, her shoulders tense and her eyes sad.

"Loki, as in the trickster?"

"As in Gabriel."

"As in dead now?"

"Tactful." Hel muttered, jolting both of them from their conversation. "Ass."

"So she can talk." Sam nodded, closing the laptop. "I'm gonna guess it was you looking for your father that caused Cas trouble?"

For a moment, Hel said nothing.

Then, in the manner usually reserved for teenagers and exasperated office workers, she sighed.

"Odin's ravens told me what had happened with the whole... Lucifer... "Judeo-Christian apocalypse"... whatever. So I started doing some research on these Angels and I gotta say, "death" isn't really an issue for them. It's not so much "game over" as "miss a go"."

She spoke with the energy and conviction of a bored teenager. As far as Sam was concerned, that seemed about right. The lore on her had described her as "glum". But this seemed something more than that.

"So you thought you could talk to someone about putting your dad back together." Dean nodded. He nodded, but that was just something for his head to do, because he guessed if he looked supportive, she might be less likely to wreak her godly vengeance on him. "Well... we can't help much with that..."

"Really?" She gasped, her scowl giving way for a moment to allow an expression of utmost sarcastic shock. "And here I thought you two were angel-boy's superiors!" She went back to scowling. "And hey, stretch. Yeah, you, is that Kroc Krunch?"

"Uh..." Sam wasn't sure he wanted to risk being berated for his cereal choice. "Yes?"

"Could you pass some this way? I'm starving."

Sam and Dean exchanged worried glances.

"What?" She rolled her eyes. "I'm not going to use it to plot my escape. It's cereal. If it was oatmeal, then you'd be in trouble. But as it is, how about letting me have my daily dose of vitamin Fun, huh?"

Exchanging yet more glances, they handed her a bowl of cereal. She was definitely Gabriel's kid.

The next few hours were, to Dean, excruciating.

Hel made no bid to escape, nor did she threaten or attempt to cause dismay. She just sat on the floor, in her circle, occasionally asking for a cushion or a candy bar, and being a pain in the ass. Normally, when they had some sort of hostage or captive, they were a pain in the ass in a sort of "if not watched constantly they'll kill you and wipe out half a continent" way. Hel, however, was a pain in the ass in the way that only a practiced younger sibling and daddy's girl could manage.

First, she asked if they could flip the TV on and point it towards her, as she wanted to watch the Saturday cartoon marathon on one of the kids' channels.

She was denied.

Then, she demanded the TV be flipped on and point towards her, or she wouldn't be held responsible for her actions.

Dean asked exactly what she intended to do from inside her prison, and she said he'd find out if he didn't let her watch the cartoons.

Then the maid came to the door, asking if they required house-keeping. Dean made sure the maid couldn't see into the room when he answered her.

Hel made use of the fact she couldn't be seen, and began saying various things in a highly inappropriate voice which implied frankly sordid and unrepeatable things about Dean's activity while in the motel room.

Dean was mortified.

The maid was terrified.

Sam was wondering if half the stuff Hel had said was physically possible, never mind legal.

Hel just beamed like a happy bobcat.

The maid slapped Dean and stormed off.

Dean ran after her and attempted to explain so they wouldn't get kicked out.

Sam let Hel watch her cartoons.

When Dean finally assured the maid that things were not as they seemed, and she really shouldn't go to the manager and get them arrested for deviancy (which he wasn't sure you could get arrested for, but why take chances), he returned to the motel room, shot Hel a glare, microwaved some popcorn and sat down to watch Foghorn Leghorn. Hel seemed happy enough that they were coming around to her way of thinking. Neither of the Winchesters wanted to know what she could do at full power, so they decided it was best to just keep her content. After a while, a thought occurred to Dean.

"So... did you know your dad was an angel?"

"No." Hel looked up from her fourth bowl of cereal, and bit her lip. She seemed, when she wasn't causing mischief or being overly aggressive, like a very intelligent person who had had a lot of bad things happen to her; she seemed disheartened, and yet objective.

"The rest of the Norse Gods took it hard when they found out about... his various... indiscretions." She wrinkled her nose, jabbing half heartedly at her cereal bowl. "They were all for leaving him dead. He was a filthy liar as far as they cared."

"And what about you?"

Hel paused, pushing her cereal away and lying down on the floor. She stared up at the ceiling, her brow furrowed, as if someone had put a magic eye picture up there.

"They all got upset because he had said he was Loki when he was Gabriel. Loads of other minions got upset because he had said he was just a trickster, when it turned out he was Loki. I guess... I don't know. It doesn't really matter who he says he is. I just want to know that he's ok, even if it turns out his whole life was a lie. I mean, Pagan Gods have a bad rep when it comes to relationships, boundaries and loyalty. In my defence, that's more the work of the Greeks than us... but, the way I see it, I'm his daughter. We weren't a stable family, but we made it work. And I just... can't give up on him like the others have."

She turned to Dean, her face configured in a way that was both mournful and matter of fact.

"The guy's got a lot of history behind him. Or Mythology, I suppose, but the point is, there's a lot of people who care about his existence."

Sam and Dean both nodded, exchanging looks.

"We, uh... we can relate. Our dad was..."

"URGH." She knocked her cereal bowl over. "Cas said you might do this."

"What?" Dean shifted under her glare, before thinking better of it and getting something to clean up the cereal with. He was so intent on keeping his head down and not matching Hel's disdainful glare that he nearly walked headlong into the suddenly present Cas.

"Dean." He shot a glare at Hel who, to her credit, tied it in a knot and shot it straight back, giving him an unnervingly insane look. "Let's talk outside."

They left the motel room, and Dean instantly felt a lot less harrowed.

"She's uh... something special."

"You have no idea." Castiel sighed.

"So... I've got to know, what exactly was she doing that was causing you guys so much trouble?"

"Existing." Castiel shrugged, before looking at Dean and realising he needed something a bit more informative. He rolled his eyes, and began to talk as if reciting a speech from memory.

"The fact that Gabriel had passed himself off as Loki was scandalous enough, but the fact that he had sired children while in that disguise..."

"Dude."

Castiel stopped, wondering exactly what Dean could have a problem with. Dean found himself biting back laughter.

"`Sired`?"

"He had children, Dean, under the guise of Loki. And this causes problems, because for one thing it links the Judeo-Christian God with the Pagan Gods, which is confusing enough."

"And for another?"

Castiel shifted his weight from one foot to the other, looking around awkwardly. He mumbled something, which Dean couldn't hear.

"Sorry?"

"Angels..." He trailed off into mumbling again, looking at Dean towards the end in the fervent hope he wouldn't need further explanation. Dean returned the look with one which implied that further explanation would be nice, yes thank you.

Castiel scowled, and stopped looking at Dean.

"Angels shouldn't be able to reproduce."

"What?"

"We're..." He bobbed his head, grimacing. "That is, Angels are not supposed to partake in... earthly... sin..."

Was he blushing? Dean was pretty sure he was blushing.

"As such, while we are... given awareness of our gender, and... form... we cannot... we're not..."

Castiel trailed off and looked imploringly at Dean. Dean was trying very hard not to laugh, and was failing quite badly.

"Are you telling me...?" He grinned, biting his lips in an attempt to stop himself laughing in Castiel's face. "Are you telling me that all Angels fire blanks?"

"No... Just the male ones."

Dean's laughter reached critical capacity, and so was rechanneled through the emergency ventilation system (i.e., he snorted out of his nose). Castiel gave him a hurt and embarrassed glare, before attempting to resume the business-like tone of the conversation.

"Which makes it all the more shocking that, during his time as Loki, Gabriel managed to father three children, doesn't it? Not to mention that one incident where he mothered one too."

"Well, yeah, I guess it... wait, what?"

"You sand Sam should read up on the lore, it's..." Castiel grinned impishly. Dean supposed this was the Angel equivalent of showing your friends your big sister's diary. "But anyway. He shouldn't have been able to father those children, Dean."

"Well, maybe it was the move to Norway. Fresh air, change of diet, that sort of thing?"

"If you're not going to take this seriously, I'm just going to take her and go."

"Ok, sorry... but, what are you going to do with her?"

The Angel paused, suddenly looking quite dejected.

"Put her back in Helheim. There's nowhere else for her. And maybe make sure she can't get out again."

"She just wants to see her dad. You got un-exploded, right? Can't you... I dunno, do the same?"

"I still don't know how or why I was resurrected." Castiel shook his head. "If God chooses to bring Gabriel back to life then so be it. But I can't do anything about that, Dean. The most I can do is put her back where she came from, for her own safety, and continue with the war in heaven."

"Pretty cold, though."

"Well what do you want me to say, Dean?" The angel looked tired, like he'd been swimming upstream for too long. "You want me to say `oh, ok then, I'll drop everything and go off on another search for God, so Hel can be reunited with her dad and you can have some kind of vicarious resolution to your own father issues`? Is that what you want me to say?"

Dean blinked at the harsh edge in the angel's voice, wondering if he'd touched a nerve, and not appreciating the way he was being spoken to.

"Dude. Harsh."

Castiel seemed to consider this for a moment, before sighing.

"Perhaps. I need to speak with her."

Dean nodded. Castiel lead the way back into the motel room and muttered a few words at the edge of the circle, before lifting Hel to her feet. Hel looked at him, confused and resentful, before turning to Sam and Dean.

"I suppose I should..." Castiel disappeared before she could finish her sentence. Sam raised his eyebrows, before turning to Dean.

"What's got him all upset?"

"Oh, just... Angel stuff. Hey." He pointed to Sam's laptop. Look up more on Loki, apparently he gave birth at one point."

"What?"

"I know, come on, let's see what the myth is."

The next morning Dean woke suddenly, as the motel room shook with the noise of explosions and loud voices. He stumbled out of his room, gripping the doorway as the sudden rude awakening jumped up and down on his synapses. A brief glance to his right told him Sam was doing likewise. They both gave each other glares that demanded to know what the hell was going on, and then gave each other shocked looks that claimed total innocence and ignorance. They looked over at the TV.

In front of the TV sat Hel, in a white t-shirt and black jeans, laughing at the cartoons that played at maximum volume. She grinned over at them.

"Cas said since you two were so sympathetic and didn't want me going back to Helheim on my own, I could stay here with you guys until he figured out what to do about dad. Isn't it awesome? Come on, there's a Bugs Bunny marathon!"

Dean stared incredulously at Sam, before going back into his room and demanding that Cas get his feathered ass in gear and explain whether or not he thought he was being funny.

Sam just waited for the Angel to completely ignore Dean.

He was definitely Gabriel's brother.