Chapter 1: In a Handful of Dust

"Oh oh people of the earth,

Listen to the warning the seer he said,

Beware the storm that gathers here,

Listen to the wise man…"

- Queen "The Prophet's Song"

It started with the closet that shouldn't be there. All their lives, Sam and Dean had adjacent bedrooms in Bobby's house, with a very solid wall between them. Suddenly there was a closet with a door to each room. If figuring out how to close the gates of Heaven and Hell wasn't bad enough, now they had architectural features appearing out of nowhere.

Dean stood on his side, looking through the little five-by-five foot space into Sam's room, where his brother and Bobby stood. "You're sure you didn't do this?" Dean asked for what felt like the millionth time.

"I think I'd remember putting in a whole damn closet," Bobby said, narrowing his eyes. "Not to mention you've seen the state of these walls, ain't no way in Hell anyone could do that in the couple days since you two were last here."

"I don't like it," Dean said.

Sam raised an eyebrow and muttered, "Funny, you being afraid of a closet."

"What?" Dean growled.

"Nothing."

It took them a while to admit that no amount of staring at, or pacing back and forth through the closet was going to explain its sudden appearance. The three retreated downstairs for the evening, to watch TV and fall asleep on the well-worn furniture of Bobby's living room.

As Dean's eyes began to drift shut at one point, he found himself instinctively reaching out to call to Cas, like he did whenever something went a little too weird. Then he remembered he was supposed to be mad at the angel, and instead made a big show of stretching and saying it was about time for bed.

Despite all his resentment, Dean was not surprised when he came downstairs the next morning to find Castiel standing in the middle of the kitchen talking to Sam and Bobby. Flat-out ignoring the angel's greeting, Dean made a bee-line for the coffee pot, forcefully exaggerating how he was not ready for any sort of conversation yet.

An awkward silence fell over the kitchen until Sam said, "So, Cas…don't suppose you'd have any idea how a closet could appear out of nowhere upstairs."

"Maybe," Castiel said. "It could…potentially have to do with the reason I came."

Taking a sip of coffee, Dean muttered into his cup, "Well, that's one thing you're good for at least."

Everyone else chose to ignore that, if they heard it. Bobby started cracking eggs into a pan on the stove. Still surprised by Castiel's answer, Sam shifted to face him, the legs of his chair dragging noisily on the floor.

"Wait, you what?"

"I was held up because…" Castiel's voice trailed off a little and he gave a half shrug, "Because we found God. Or rather, I should say we have a much better idea of where He is. He's…here."

Bobby turned from the stove rather abruptly. "In my house?"

"No. On Earth. Most likely in the United States, judging from the frequency of abnormal occurrences in the past few days."

Even Dean looked at Castiel finally, though when he met his gaze, the hunter hardened his expression.

"So what's the problem?" Sam asked. "I mean, we've seen plenty of gods and goddesses in human form on Earth before, they didn't make things too weird."

"Gods are just as varied as humans," Castiel explained. "Ours…God, well, He isn't three dimensional. Putting Him into a human body would be like if you crushed your Sun down to the size of an acorn, except instead of creating a black hole, this will warp reality itself. Physics and logic will stop working entirely."

Dean draped one arm over the back of his chair. It was hard to be both angry and curious at the same time, and what he ended up with was sarcasm. "Great, because the tablets weren't causing us enough trouble, now you want us to play a nice round of Where's Waldo: The Salvador Dali Edition."

Castiel stared at him, then looked around, first at Sam, who looked at his feet, then at Bobby, who was vehemently dividing scrambled eggs between three plates. Finally Castiel sighed and shook his head. "Dean, I'm trying to…"

"To what? Apologize?" Dean shook his head. "You really think giving us another apocalyptic disaster to deal with is apologizing?! Why don't you find a way to heal Sam, huh? Or help Kevin. Or anything. And since when did Heaven become 'us' again?"

Castiel's expression was bordering pure desperation. "Dean, everyone is in grave danger if this isn't dealt with."

"Yeah? Been there. Done that." Dean leaned back as Bobby moved to set a plate of food in front of him. Glancing up however, he saw a look on the older man's face that made it seem like he would have much rather just dumped the eggs in Dean's lap.

As soon as Kevin let them into his latest hideout, he made a valiant grab for the take-out bag in Dean's hand. All the hunter had to do was stand on his tip-toes to keep it out of reach. "Tell me you found something in your notes."

"This is actual torture," Kevin grumbled, taking a long whiff of the pork-fried rice smell as he closed and locked the heavy door behind them. "Also, you know this would go a lot faster if I could just, oh I don't know, talk to Metatron about everything seeing as he wrote the damn tablets."

"Yeah, well, no one can get ahold of him, usual summoning thing doesn't work." Dean wandered into the cluttered room, pushing a few paper cups and empty No-Doze bottles off the table so he could set the food down. He craned his neck a little to try and read some of the notebooks that lay around covered in haphazard writing, but most of it was probably incomprehensible to anyone who wasn't Kevin.

"I thought you said on the phone that Castiel was back on speaking terms with Heaven," Kevin said, frowning. "Can't he – "

Dean looked up in time to see Sam wearily making a slicing 'cut it out' motion across his throat with one hand. Kevin dropped into his chair with a sigh and made a helpless gesture, looking very much like he was the one who had just been through the first two demon-tablet trials.

"Weird things've been happening," Kevin said finally. "I think I saw a cat squish itself flat as a piece of paper to get between two crates yesterday, but I might have been dreaming. Also the eggs I got were purple on the inside, so I threw them out."

"There's a closet in Bobby's house that wasn't there before," Sam said with a shrug, leaning against the wall.

"It all has to do with this whole God thing, doesn't it?"

Dean nodded, remaining on his feet mainly because there didn't seem to be a level surface to sit on. "Seems like. Cas, he uh, says things will just keep getting worse until…I don't know. It all implodes."

"I give you a hamburger," Kevin muttered, then shrugged. "Cuil theory. Sorry."

"Look, kid," Dean said. "I know most of your stuff doesn't even begin to cover this crap. But if there's anything at all, and I know you've got way more riding on you than you should have…Just, if you found anything, you could even give us the notes and we could try to figure it out. Or make Cas figure it out."

Kevin's shoulders drooped a little and he went over to a small shelf, pulling out a notebook that looked not quite as filled as the others. He tossed the notebook to Dean. "Here. This is where I've been keeping track of anything that seems to be related something outside the trials. Every so often there are references to other tablets and sometimes…people, I guess. Names I don't recognize. I don't know if it will actually help you find God or anything, but…"

"Thanks, Kev," Dean thumbed through the notebook, then sighed resignedly, "Guess I'll see what Cas thinks of it. You sure you don't wanna come back to Bobby's with us?"

"Are you kidding?" Kevin raised his eyebrows. "I'd love to. But you know that's the first place anyone would look for me, and even after Metatron saved my ass…and, I don't know how much I can rely on that to happen again. So I'm just going to keep moving, and you two just…keep me updated on your search for God." At that he started giggling, the lack of sleep clearly breaking through.

Dean tucked the notebook under one arm and pushed the bag of food closer to Kevin. "Okay, well you have something to eat, get some rest…we'll let you know when we find anything." He looked to Sam and gave a little nod for his brother to get up and follow him out of the cramped room.

As soon as they got back to Bobby's, Dean could tell something was wrong. Not wrong as in "God is on Earth so now the trees have ears instead of leaves" wrong, but the sort of anxiety you get when you come home to find the door open just a crack. The front door wasn't open, but Dean could feel tension in the air as soon as he and Sam stepped inside.

Then they went into the living room and found Crowley sitting on the couch, looking bored. Bobby was in his usual chair, scowling, and Castiel stood just beside Bobby.

"Are you two okay?" Dean growled immediately, glancing at them as he and Sam came to a stop in the doorway.

Bobby snorted and folded his arms over his chest. "We're fine."

"I promise, I didn't hurt a hair on their chinny-chin-chins," Crowley said, holding his hands up. "As much as I hate to lower myself to age old clichés, I come in peace."

"Yeah? Since when?" Dean took a few steps sideways, coming to a stop next to Castiel. Sam was apparently too tired to manage that and dropped into the other armchair in the corner.

Crowley produced a glass of scotch out of thin air. He settled more comfortably on the couch. "Since Daddy decided to go off sight-seeing on Earth and not check in. You think you're the only ones who want him back where he belongs? I'm here to offer a peace treaty in light of recent events. Of course, you're not the ones I want signing it, but you can get me in touch with your new boss." Crowley's eyes drifted to Castiel on the last bit.

"He means Naomi," Castiel said flatly, not looking at anyone but the demon.

Dean definitely did not like where this one was heading. "Since when is that stuck-up bitch your new boss?" he asked, bristling again as he remembered that he was in fact, still pissed off.

"Watch your language there, squirrel," Crowley said, thoroughly amused. He took a sip of his drink, eyes sparkling. "You're talking about one of the most powerful Seraphim in Heaven. Or do you feel the need to call her names because the idea of a powerful female angel tying your boyfriend to a chair makes you feel too emasculated? It's all right if it does, plenty of better men than you are threatened by the likes of her."

"Shut up or I'm gonna kick your ass into Purgatory so hard that you leave a crater."

Crowley curled his lip. "I'm trembling."

"Okay, okay both of you!" Bobby said, leaning forward in his chair and glaring at them. "There's plenty of time to flirt later. What's this proposition you've got, Crowley?"

"The fact of the matter is," Crowley said, "the tablets, the trials, closing the gates…they're currently irrelevant. I mean, what does all that matter if in a few months' time all of reality collapses in on itself? Heaven, Hell, Earth…we all want the same thing. We want the big man back in the sky. And what that means, my fine feathered and un-feathered friends, is that we're all on the same bloody side."

As though trying to do the demonic equivalent of dropping the mic, Crowley let his now empty glass fall dramatically to the floor. There was a loud shattering sound, but all the glass vanished the instant it hit the wood. Dean wasn't sure if this was Crowley's doing, or more of the weird side effects of God-on-Earth.

Castiel slowly shook his head. "Heaven won't see it that way."

"All I need is for the Queen Bee to see it that way," Crowley said. "Now be a good boy and call me once you've spoken with her. Toodles." And with a wink, he was gone.

Dean and Bobby simultaneously snapped around to look at Castiel. "What?"

"Honestly," Castiel said, moving (much to Dean's discomfort) to take Crowley's vacated spot on the couch. "Right now Hell is far more unified than Heaven. What factions of angels that are left…they're fighting each other. And yes, Naomi is one of the more respected seraphim, but there are a considerable number of others who would rather see her gone. Tariel, Raguel…"

Sam cleared his throat rather weakly. "So, wait. You actually think this is a good idea, don't you? I thought Naomi was the one who was like…"

"Seriously fucking up your head?" Dean provided.

Castiel pursed his lips and looked out the darkening window for a moment. When he looked back at them, he had drawn his expression in, lost any of the hopelessness from before. In its place was nothing, and that bothered Dean more than when the angel let little bits of emotion show through. "Which causes more damage in the long run?" he asked, eyes coldly fixed on Dean's. "The monsters that father has to keep in line? Or his children who will stop at nothing to find him?"

"What's your point?" Dean said through gritted teeth.

"The angels will tear Earth apart if it means finding Him. If we can get Naomi and Crowley to work together, then there is at least a chance of your world surviving this. And Naomi…she is the only angel in Heaven who has an ear open to me."

Bobby snorted, getting to his feet and shuffling over to get the bottle of whiskey from the desk. "Only cuz she's been riding your ass these past few months."

Dean was the only one who caught the look on Castiel's face, the little sigh he gave as he looked down. Bobby and Sam were too distracted by the sudden sound from upstairs, like someone was dragging furniture around. A moment later all four of them were charging up the stairs, various weapons in hand.

All they found was another door at the end of the hallway. Dean opened it, expecting another closet. This one just opened to the inside of the wall. And again, just as with the closet, this strange new addition gave off an odd, unsettling presence.

"It's like, uncanny valley or something," Sam murmured after a while.

Bobby reached around Dean to slam the door shut. He turned to face Castiel, who was lingering at the back of the group. "I can bet you're going to say that this ain't nothing compared to what's about to happen."

"Think how many living things would be effected if the Sun rose in the west," Castiel said dully. "Or if the moon were a few hundred feet closer to Earth."

"This…" Sam dissolved into a coughing fit once again. "This isn't something we can do on our own, is it?"

Castiel shook his head. "Not this time."

Dean met his eyes and let out a sigh. "Okay. Fine. But you better find a way to get Naomi to come down here and chat cuz there's no way in hell I'm risking her taking you again." And he held Castiel's gaze, even as they had to shift out of the way so Bobby could drag a heavy side table in front of the strange door.