Book 30 - Losing My Religion

by GailDunn2

WARNING: VIOLENCE AND ADULT SITUATIONS. Castiel is God now, and he plans to wage a Holy War. But, what would be the consequences if he follows through with his plan? Meanwhile, Rob is growing up fast. Cas begins to liberate some souls, and a few familiar faces emerge. But when an unexpected attack takes place, what will be the repercussions?

1. King Of Wishful Thinking,Queen of Denial

Chapter 1 - King Of Wishful Thinking, Queen Of Denial

Cas held up his hand. "Just a moment," he said to Gail. "Crowley's sending me a message on our Originals' frequency."

She sat back in her chair and waited. Cas hadn't bothered to replace the Hotline that Patricia had ripped out of the credenza. There was no need for it any more. As two out of the three surviving Originals, Cas and Crowley could just converse in their heads, and as the third, Gail could do the same, with either man.

The conversation was brief, apparently, because a moment later, Cas focused on Gail again. "He wants to have a meeting," her husband told her. "He claims he is interested in discussing diplomacy."

"Well, if that's the case, shouldn't you hear him out?" Gail said. "I can go with you, if you like. I could be a buffer, in case things go south between the two of you." In case? Who was she kidding? The way Cas was now, war would probably be declared before Crowley's butt even hit his chair. Cas and his brother had never gotten along even at the best of times, when they had been erstwhile allies. But now, Cas was God, and he had Might on his side, if not Right. What he didn't have was the armies; at least, not yet. There were thousands of Angels being trained in Heaven currently, but they were hardly battle-ready. This fact actually gave Gail hope. If they could negotiate a detente with Crowley now, perhaps there might not be a war at all. But that was if Crowley was sincere about his desire to seek diplomacy, of course. It wasn't as if he was the world's most trustworthy individual.

Cas was considering Gail's offer to accompany him. A part of him didn't want her to come, because that part of him was spoiling for a fight. That part of him wasn't the least bit interested in a diplomatic solution. When Patricia had been drugging and programming him, she had installed a form of religious mania in his brain. Like Crowley himself, Patricia had been thinking several chess moves ahead in the game. She had been crazy, but she had been crazy like a fox. She had known that she wouldn't be able to sustain the Office for very long. Every day she'd been God, she'd gotten a little crazier. She had tried redecorating the place, but to no avail. Every time she had looked around, she had seen Lucifer's face, and heard his taunts. It had gotten so bad that she'd actually briefly considered running Heaven from her old office. But she just couldn't bring herself to do it. How could she be taken seriously in a place like that? So she had carried on, with all the dignity she could muster. When she had started to dose Castiel, her initial motivation had merely been to subdue him. But she had noticed that the sedation made him very susceptible to suggestion. So at first, she had instituted the concept of revulsion at physical contact with Gail, mainly out of spite.

But then, as the days and weeks wore on and Patricia's psyche began to fracture, she'd known that she wasn't going to last much longer. All of that planning and hard work, and it was about to go down the drain. She had been thinking about what her legacy as God could possibly be. As the first female God, Patricia had wanted to put her stamp on the Office, to cement her place in history. But she'd also known that she was running out of time.

Then, she'd had the inspiration: What about if she were able to be the puppet master behind the modern-day Holy War? With Patricia out of the way, the Office would go to Castiel. Patricia had no doubt that Castiel's imprisonment and addled mental state were both temporary conditions. When she finally had her nervous breakdown, Castiel and Gail would emerge victorious in the end, and Patricia would be reduced to a brief and pathetic footnote in Heaven's history. But what about if she were to ensure that Castiel's reign were to be the one that precipitated the Beginning of The End? So she had begun to plant the seeds in Castiel's mind, and even though she wasn't currently around to see it, Patricia would have been extremely gratified to see that her plan was coming along very nicely.

Cas had never had a chance. The poison of the chemicals had gone to work on him, and Patricia's constant haranguing had done the rest. Cas's insecurities had come back in full force, and the feelings of guilt that she had installed had manifested themselves in a form of religious mania. From that point, it had been a short jump to the notion that, as God, Castiel had to hold himself to a higher ideal than everyone else. Therefore, he now felt like it was his responsibility to forgo any sort of personal pleasure, as the martyrs did in the olden times. Cas knew that Gail was hurt and disappointed by his behaviour, but he couldn't seem to help it. He had no business going to Earth for parties with humans while individuals like Crowley were allowed to flourish. And he had no business making himself happy while others suffered.

The Holy War would fix everything, Cas's warped mind assured him. When they had eradicated Lucifer, they had only done part of the job. Once Castiel vanquished Crowley, the Angels would be protected from Evil, and so would the humans. It was the only thing that made sense. Only then would Cas be able to ease up enough to socialize with his friends. Surely Gail could understand that.

Cas sighed. He supposed she really should come along, though. Historically, he and Crowley had never been able to get together without multiple death threats being issued, and Castiel was not yet ready to declare war. That was, if he even would declare it. It would make more sense strategically to just suddenly attack, although he supposed that wouldn't be very sporting. But his soldiers were still in training, and most of the Angels were still too green to be sending into battle. Riley, Ethan and Kevin were Castiel's coordinators, going from classroom to classroom, reporting on the progress of the cadets, and his lieutenants had advised that they would probably need a minimum of six more months' training.

So Cas knew that he was not yet prepared to go through with his plan, but he also knew that when it came to Crowley, his temper frequently got the better of him. Plus, quite frankly, he was curious to hear what Crowley had to say, and how much his brother knew about Castiel's operations.

"I would like it if you came," he told his wife now. "Sometimes, you are able to get him to tell you things that he will not tell me."

"That's if he's telling the truth, of course," Gail said, making a face. "That's always a hit-and-miss kind of proposition."

Cas nodded. She was certainly right about that. If only there was a way - Wait. There was.

"The crocodile tooth," they said together.

Cas smiled for a moment, and Gail's heart soared. She couldn't remember the last time she'd seen him smile. It was such a simple thing, but it was so important.

They were both remembering that long, long night before they were due to go to Madagascar for their final confrontation with Lucifer. They had been examining the markings on their Angel blades, and Kevin had discovered a notation on Cas's blade which had seemed both weird and funny, at the same time. It had stated that, if they wished to elicit just one statement from Crowley that was guaranteed to be the truth, they should have him imbibe a ground-up crocodile tooth.

Cas took his blade out of his blazer pocket now, and scanned it for that particular notation. Sure enough, it was right there. What a strange and oddly specific thing to be on his blade, but, there it was.

He looked at Gail. "Please wait here. I will be right back." He popped out, and a few minutes later, he returned. His clothes were bloody and so was his blade, but he had the tooth in his hand.

Gail moved towards him automatically, waving her hands over his clothing, cleaning up the blood. Then she waved her hand over the blade, and a second later, it was sparkling. "Did it give you much of a hard time?" she asked him, bemused.

"Remember, I have the ability to tame beasts," he told her. "I lulled it into a stupor before I killed it."

"Too bad you couldn't have done that to the alligators in Fort Lauderdale," she commented, smiling.

"I couldn't take the chance. There were too many of them, and they were too close to you. You are way too precious to me to risk in that manner," Cas said softly.

"That's the nicest thing you've said to me in a long time," Gail said sadly.

Cas frowned. "You feel as if I've been very hard on you, don't you?"

Gail lifted an eyebrow. "Well, now that you mention it..."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," Cas said in a monotone. He waved his hand, and the crocodile tooth was reduced to powder in his fist. He stashed his blade in his pocket, and then produced an envelope out of thin air to put the powder in. Then he looked at her. "I will tell him we will meet him at the bar on Cayer Road, near our Earthly home. I'll tell him that we want to meet him in a public place, for security reasons. He and I will seat ourselves in one of the booths around the corner from the bar, and I will keep him occupied while you obtain his drink from the bar, putting the powder into it. Stir it well. Get yourself a drink too, so he will not be suspicious. Then, after we allow a few minutes for the drink to take hold, I will teleport us to our house, so that we may get the information from him in private."

Gail regarded him coolly. So, he wasn't sorry he was being hard on her, he was just sorry that she felt that way. And he was ordering her around like she was one of his subjects, or something. Her eyes narrowed. But this wasn't exactly a good time for a domestic dispute between her and Cas. All of her energies were going to have to be spent trying to keep her husband from smiting the crap out of Crowley during Happy Hour.

She sighed, and took the envelope from Cas's hand.

"I hadn't figured you for a 'corner bar' type of guy, Castiel," Crowley said, when they met on the street in front of the establishment.

"What about me?" Gail piped up.

Crowley regarded her. "You? It wouldn't surprise me one bit to discover they have a drink named after you."

Her lips twitched furiously. Whatever else could be said about the King of Hell, his prowess for rejoinders rivalled her own. And how pathetic was the state of affairs right now that she was looking forward to his company over her own husband's? At least the King of Hell could usually be counted on for a laugh or two.

They entered the bar, and Cas gestured to Crowley. "Come. There is a booth around the corner from the bar where you and I can sit and talk."

Crowley's forehead wrinkled. "What about the missus?"

"She will get a drink for you, and one for herself, and meet us there in a moment," Cas replied.

Crowley looked at the couple curiously. On the one hand, if God was buying, he'd take a double. But on the other hand, this was so unlike them that it gave him pause. Since when did Gail play fetch for her husband? It had always been the other way around. And the Angels weren't holding hands, or even standing close together. Odd. Perhaps they'd had a disagreement right before coming here. Crowley wondered what a domestic dispute between God and his wife would look like, and his beard twitched. Could God be made to bed down on the couch? Oh, how he would love to be a fly on the wall to see little Gail put the Almighty in his place. Then, when they had their make-up sex, she would be calling out...well, his name, wouldn't she? So many jokes, so little time.

Castiel had already started off towards the booth, so Crowley trailed along behind him. The men sat themselves, amid an awkward silence.

"So, how is Heaven?" Crowley ventured.

"Heaven is Heaven," Castiel replied, somewhat non-responsively.

Crowley nodded slowly. "You're quite right, Castiel. Heaven IS Heaven. And it must seem even more so now, now that the unfortunate Patricia got what she so richly deserved. Am I right?"

Cas gave a half-shrug. "The woman was unbalanced."

And that was it. That was all he had to say about Patricia, the woman who had thrown him in jail and drugged him so badly he hadn't even recognized his own wife? This was getting curiouser and curiouser. The man sitting before the King of Hell was talking like the old Castiel, the avenging Angel with the stick up his bum a mile wide. Maybe it was because he had finally achieved the High Office now, and felt he should conduct himself with a little bit more decorum. Crowley wondered how well this new yet nauseatingly familiar persona was sitting with Gail. Probably, not very. That could explain the lack of hand-holding.

Meanwhile, Gail ordered a double scotch for Crowley, and a glass of wine for herself. She reached into her pocket for the money Cas had given her, and when the bartender's back was turned, she took the envelope out of her other pants pocket and emptied the powder into Crowley's drink, grabbing a stir-stick from the end of the bar to stir it with. Then she brought the drinks over to the booth, sliding in beside her husband.

"What did I miss?" she said flippantly.

"Some very scintillating conversation," Crowley said dryly. "Did you know, for instance, that Heaven is Heaven?" He picked up the drink she'd set before him. "Ta," he said, then, "Cheers."

Gail clinked her glass with his, and they both had a sip. She tensed for a moment, but the ground-up crocodile tooth didn't seem to alter the taste of the scotch he was drinking, or he probably would have reacted. Then again, Gail had tried scotch once before, and in her opinion, the tooth could only improve its flavour.

Crowley took another sip, then set the glass down. "How are you enjoying being Heaven's First Lady, sweetheart?" he asked Gail. "Tell me, what are some of the perks?"

What the hell? She could play, for a couple of minutes. "Perks? Let me see," she said. "Fifty percent off at the halo-shining store, front row seats for any production of Godspell, and the Junior Seraphs have to mow our lawn for free. Oh, and I'm trying to get a hymn written about me, but do you know how few positive words rhyme with 'Gail'?"

Crowley smiled, nodding his head in approval of her humour. The Queen of the Quip was alive and well, even if her husband looked like he had just sucked an orchard of lemons.

"I mean, think about it," Gail continued. "Fail, jail, wail...even kale. Have you ever tried that stuff? It's disgusting."

Crowley was getting very close to rewarding her with a rare laugh, but then Castiel said, "We did not come here for idle chit-chat. Why did you ask for this meeting, Crowley?"

The King shrugged. "Maybe I just wanted some idle chit-chat. You'll find the throne is sometimes a lonely place, Castiel. It's not easy leading flocks of sheeple. Trying to decide what's best for them." He took another sip of his drink. "Angels and Demons are not that different from each other, you know. Neither species is exactly in the habit of making smart decisions. They need a leader with a firm hand, and the courage of his convictions. A goals-oriented kind of individual. And I hear that you're very goal-oriented these days."

"What have you heard? And how have you heard it?" Cas said sharply.

Crowley took another sip. "Relax, Castiel. You don't have a mole in your organization. I just say those sorts of things to sound mysterious and enigmatic." Wait, what? Why had he said that?

Gail was trying not to smile now. That sort of comment was more crocodile than Crowley, more tooth than truth, maybe. Or, maybe they were one and the same, she thought slyly. In another minute, he was going to be completely under the influence of the world's weirdest truth serum. "Cheers," she said, lifting her wine glass. Crowley clinked with her, and they both drank. Most of his drink was gone now, and Cas thought it might be time to wink them all over to the house. He just had to wait until the young man coming towards them passed by the booth, and then, there would be no witnesses to their sudden disappearance.

"Dude, that lady totally 'roofied' you," the guy said to Crowley on his way by, gesturing to Gail. "Funny, cause it's usually the other way around. But I just thought you should know." He continued walking towards the Restrooms, in the back.

Cas seized Crowley by the arm, and winked the King and Gail over to their house before Crowley could disappear.

"What was that young man talking about?" Crowley asked Gail coolly.

"I'm sure I have no idea," Gail said innocently. "He was probably drunk."

"Why am I here?" Crowley asked Cas suspiciously. He had tried to pop out as soon as they'd gotten here, but there was a Devil's Trap under his chair, and another one on the ceiling above him, for good measure. So, the Angels had set a trap for him. So much for diplomacy. "Is it torture then, Castiel?"

"If I was going to torture you, I wouldn't bring you to our home," Cas said calmly.

"Your home?!" Crowley exclaimed. He looked around the room. "I love what you've done with the place, sweetheart," he told Gail. Then he looked up at the ceiling, at the Devil's Trap. "Although, the paint job leaves something to be desired."

Cas and Gail exchanged glances. Now that they had the King of Hell at their mercy, if only momentarily, and under the influence, so to speak...what did they want to ask him? Apparently, the tooth was good for one truth, and one truth only. But what was the most important question at the moment?

Crowley's mind was working furiously now. What were these two after?

Gail put her hand on Cas's arm. "Let's talk for a minute," she said softly. She winked him outside, onto the back porch. "So, what's the million-dollar question?" she asked her husband.

He was frowning in concentration. "I don't know," he said. "I wish we could be assured of more than one truthful answer. There are so many things I would like to know: how many battalions he has, what kinds of weapons they will use, and whether he is considering a pre-emptive strike. There is so much information I need."

Gail's heart sank. "What about the diplomatic route? We haven't even spoken about that, yet."

"I don't want to waste my question on a fantasy," Cas said shortly. "He's about as interested in diplomacy as Lucifer was."

She let out a frustrated breath. "Ok, how's this, then? When we go back in there, we'll attempt to elicit as much information from him as we can, without asking him a direct question. Who knows? He might tell us some of the stuff you want to know, if we get him talking. You know how much he loves the sound of his own voice. In fact, I'll give him another drink. That'll probably loosen his tongue a bit more."

Cas nodded briefly. What she was saying made sense to him. So he popped them back into the house, and Gail made Crowley a drink from their bar. Cas snapped his fingers, and the glass transferred from Gail's hand to Crowley's.

"Well, well. Such hospitality," the King said dryly. But he took a sip, anyway. The damage had already been done, hadn't it? He waited patiently for the question, but no question was forthcoming.

Instead, Castiel said, "Tell me what you are thinking right now."

What a clever boy, the King thought. That must have been what that little pow-wow of theirs had been all about.

"Kudos to the both of you," Crowley said sardonically. "But you realize, of course, that I could just sit here and say nothing, thereby foiling your plan." He took another sip of his drink. "I won't do that, though. What fun would that be? And besides, everyone knows how I love to hear myself talk. Right, sweetheart?"

He looked at Cas then. "What am I thinking right now? Quite frankly, I'm thinking about what a first-class fool you are. Think about it, Castiel. You're God now. Finally. You should have the world by the tail. There you sit, in the highest office there is, with all of the power you have to do Good, and instead, you're preparing to wage war on me. When was the last time you visited Moose and Squirrel? You and your bride could go to the most romantic places in the world. Tahiti. Bora Bora. Oh, wait. She doesn't like the tropics, does she? How about Iceland, then? Did the two of you ever have a proper honeymoon? Yet you sit up there, acting like a tinpot dictator, ignoring those precious humans you rebelled for, and withholding physical affection from your wife. As the expression goes, Patricia must have really done a number on you. But then again, this whole situation is so...you, isn't it, Castiel? You have a singular talent for making lemons out of lemonade. In all my millennia of existence, I have never met an individual who is so eager to throw happiness away with both hands."

Then Crowley looked at Gail again. "It's hard to tempt the Almighty, isn't it? Believe me, far more malevolent entities than you have tried. You may have finally met your match, sweetheart. But I get the feeling that an eternity of piousness and celibacy isn't exactly your cup of tea. I could fix you up with any number of Demons who are experienced in, shall we say, the sensual arts. If your husband won't play ball, that's no reason for you to retire from the game, is it?"

"You're being disgusting, as usual," she said, rolling her eyes. "We're not here to talk about that, we're here to talk about you. You were the one who said he wanted to discuss a diplomatic solution, if I'm not mistaken." Phew. That had been close. She'd almost phrased that last part as a question. It was hard not to do.

Cas was finding that to be the case, as well. He was pursing his lips, angry at what Crowley had said. But, a part of him knew that the King of Hell was absolutely correct in everything he had said, too. Cas was slowly alienating all of his loved ones. He knew that. But he couldn't seem to make himself do anything about it.

"You don't want a diplomatic solution, do you, Castiel?" Crowley said coolly. "Look at you. I can read you like a book. Ask your bloody question, then, or that poor beast will have died in vain. I hope your wife will at least have gotten a pair of shoes or a nice handbag out of him."

Cas's heart sank. So, Crowley knew.

"You might have gotten away with it, too, if that young lad at the bar hadn't tattled," Crowley said calmly. "Ask your question, Castiel."

"All right, I will," Cas said angrily. "Did you really mean it when you said you wanted a diplomatic solution?"

"Actually, yes. Yes, I did," Crowley said. "I don't want a Holy War. Why would I? But, will I fight one? Absolutely, if I have to. But, if I had my druthers, I would prefer not. Who needs all of that bloodshed, and strife? Do you really want to put the lives of all of those young Angels who so inexplicably look up to you on the line? What for? So you can look like a hero? It's not worth it, Castiel. You seem to be forgetting something, here. If there is a Holy War, where do you suppose it will be fought? On Earth, that's where. All of those humans you love so much, caught up in the crossfire. And because you're such a fierce General, I would have no choice but to go for the jugular. That means that the first humans to go would have to be the Winchesters, and Frank and his family. How do you think your dear wife would feel about you then? So think very carefully before you start anything with me, Brother. Your wife is a very engaging woman, but I'm not above slitting her throat, if that's what I have to do to get your attention."

Crowley smashed his drinking glass on the chair he was sitting in. Then he popped out of the Devil's Trap. Gail looked down at the floor, seeing with dismay that the paint there was scratched. Then, she looked up at the one on the ceiling. Same thing. Dammit! He must have done that somehow when they'd briefly popped outside.

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Crowley said from behind her. He pulled her towards him, holding the biggest piece of broken glass to her throat. "But if your husband insists on violence, then violence is what he will get." He looked at Cas. "The next time, I will not exercise restraint." He slashed Gail's cheek with the shard of glass, and then popped out of the house.

The cut hurt, but she'd experienced much, much worse. The speed with which Crowley had turned the tables on them had been a little disconcerting, though.

Cas rushed forward and healed the cut on her cheek. He was fuming. "Now, do you see what type of individual he is?" he said angrily. "Surely, you cannot still think that there could ever be peace between our realms."

"You heard what he said, Cas. I admit, I relaxed my guard. But, he said he'll go after Sam and Dean, and Frank and Jody and the kids. We can't let that happen. And it's not just about us. What about all those young Angels you're training right now? Demons fight dirty, Cas. Do you really think that those naive young kids will be able to hold their own against that?"

"YOU did," he said shortly.

"Yes, with the help of three seasoned Hunters, and a lot of underhanded tactics," she retorted. "Do you really want to send guys like Efram out there to be sacrificial lambs to the Demons of Hell? What's wrong with you?"

"I just need a little more time with the cadets," Cas insisted stubbornly. "Riley advises they will be battle-ready in six months. Less, if we accelerate the program."

"Are you even hearing yourself right now?" Gail shouted. "Nobody wants this war but you! And you still haven't given me one good reason for it! So, Crowley's an evil ass, so what? We've always known that. I admit that sometimes I let my guard down around him, but that's my fault, Cas. I don't want anybody else to pay for my stupid mistakes. But please, let's talk about this some more. Once the first blood is drawn, there'll be no going back. You know that, sweetie. You know that. Please. Don't do this."

He stared down at her. She looked so forlorn. Didn't she realize that he was only doing this to protect her? To protect all of them?

"My word is The Word," Cas told her. He waved his hand and disappeared.

"Why won't anybody listen to me?" Gail exclaimed, stamping her foot in frustration.

"I'm listening to you, Kitten, I just don't know what you expect me to do," Gabriel said. He had shown up to the house as soon as she'd called, even though he'd had a pretty good idea of what she was going to say. "Your hubby is God now. The big cheese. The head honcho. His word IS the Word. That's it. Game over."

"He's going to declare a Holy War, Gabriel!" she said, agitated. "Do you know how many people are going to die because of that?"

Gabe's jaw dropped open. "He is not," he said, astonished.

"Oh, but he is," Gail said, making a face. "Do you want all those deaths on your hands? Cause I don't!"

Gabriel frowned. That was a sensitive subject for him. Obviously, Castiel had kept Gabriel's sad story to himself. "That's not fair, Gail. I don't want anyone to die."

"Well then, you'd better help me figure out what to do," she told him glumly. She sank down on the couch, and he sat beside her. Suddenly, her expression brightened. "I know! Why don't you just send us back in time?" she asked him.

"Yeah? And when would that be, exactly?" he said scornfully.

"Since before Patricia threw him in jail, and put that junk in his system," she said stubbornly. "In fact, why don't we just go back a bit further, and make sure she never wins the election?"

"Fine," Gabriel said irritably. "And exactly how do you think you're gonna do that? Do you know who those thirteen people were, who voted for Patricia over Cas?"

Gail let out a frustrated breath. Crap. He was right, but..."Okay, okay. How about just before Scott's murder, then? Maybe I could persuade Cas not to do it. Scream at the top of my lungs. Something."

"You're not thinking clearly, Gail," Gabriel said earnestly. "Even if that worked, that still wouldn't solve your Patricia problem. Even if he doesn't end up killing Scott in your office that day, she'll just trump something else up against him."

Gail was seething now. Everything he was saying made perfect sense, but she wasn't in the mood for logic. "OK, then let's just leave Cas out of it! Take ME back, then, to just before she was God, and I'll kill her myself!"

Gabe smirked. "Har, har. Very funny."

"Who's laughing?" she said angrily.

It dawned on him that she was completely serious. The Archangel shook his head. "No, Gail. You know that I can't be a party to anything like that," he said softly. "It's wrong, and you know it."

"So was what she did to Cas!" she fumed.

"I'm not arguing that," Gabriel said calmly. He took her hand. But you know that we can't do that, Gail," he told her.

She pulled her hand away from his. "Fine. Get out, then. You're useless to me. Don't ever talk to me again. I knew you didn't like Sam and Dean, but if you're willing to just sit by and let Crowley kill them, then don't bother to claim that you're our Brother. They're my brothers, too. And what about Frank, and his little baby? Either we're all family here, or none of us are. You obviously don't know what it's like to care about family, or to have loved ones, because you obviously only care about yourself."

"Is that so?" he said, gritting his teeth. "Is that what you think? Well, let me show you something." He grabbed her hand back, and slapped it on his forehead. "Come on in, then, and see how much I don't care about my family."

Gabriel showed her every excruciating moment of his relationship with Jennifer, and it's tragic and horrifying conclusion. He held nothing back. Then he removed her hand gently from his forehead and held it, and this time, she didn't pull away.

"I'm so sorry, Gabriel. I had no idea," she said softly. A couple of tears fell from the corners of her eyes, and he reached out and wiped them with his thumb, just like Cas would have done. And that made her cry even harder. "You should have just told me to keep my big, fat, stupid, fishwife yap shut."

Gabriel started to smile. "Can you give me a minute to write all of that down, for future reference?"

"Why didn't you tell me before?" she wailed. "All this time, I've been saying all these horrible things to you. I'm lucky you didn't just pop me one."

"As if I'd ever hit a woman," Gabriel said, rolling his eyes. "Look, Kitten, if what you're saying is true, and Cas is this bad, we'll think of something. But we're not going to go off the rails, and we're not going to go crazy, here. OK?"

Gail frowned. "Do you think Cas is nuts, Gabriel?"

He gave her a half-shrug. "Who's to say? Maybe he's the only sane one, out of all of us. We probably should have popped a cap in Crowley's ass centuries ago."

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow. "'Popped a cap in his ass'? Say hi to everybody in Compton for me, will you?"

Gabriel laughed. "There's my Kitten. Come here." He opened his arms and gave her a hug. Now, Gail felt like crying again. It had been ages since anyone had given her the simple comfort of a hug. Her own husband wouldn't even hold her hand any more.

"Besides, sanity is just the control of madness, or so they say," Gabriel told her in a gentle tone. "And I know whereof I speak, believe me."

She came out of the embrace. "Would you do me a favour, then? Teach me how to control it, 'cause I'm just about two steps away from losing all my marbles."

Suddenly, Cas appeared in front of them. "Gabriel," he said coolly. Then he looked at Gail. "I would like to talk to you, alone," he said to his wife.

"OK, OK. I know when I've been dismissed," Gabriel said, rising from the couch. He looked at Cas. "Don't you be too hard on my Kitten, or I'll be back, your Godship." Then, he winked out.

Cas moved slowly towards the couch, sitting down in the spot that Gabriel had just vacated. He was just staring at her, saying nothing. Gail couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. She waited, but still, he didn't speak.

"Well, I guess you caught us," she said lightly. "Gabriel and I are running away together. I find his obnoxiousness irresistible."

Was it her imagination, or did Cas's lips twitch, just for an instant? "You do realize that I have been able to see and hear you this whole time, do you not?" he said eventually.

Gail sighed. "OK. How angry are you, then? Are you going to yell at me now? Maybe smite me a little?"

Cas frowned. "Do you really think I'm crazy, Gail?"

She winced. It sounded so harsh when he said it out loud like that. But, just the fact that he was here asking her the question gave her hope. "I just think that what Patricia did to you messed with your mind. All this talk about war isn't you, Cas. I think she programmed that into you, just to screw with you. Please promise me you'll reconsider that whole thing, Cas. Please."

Cas looked at her face. After he had popped out of the house and gone back to Heaven, he had begun to think. There was something terribly wrong here. Like it or not, the King of Hell had given him a bit of a wake-up call. Cas SHOULD have the world by the tail right now. But, when was the last time that he had laughed, or even smiled for more than a millisecond? Gail had tried and tried to share a laugh with Cas, and then earlier today, she had been trading quips with a man who had later threatened to cut her throat, all because she could no longer do so with her own husband. For that matter, when was the last time that he and Gail had done anything together except to talk about war? She had gone to Earth by herself a few times when the board was not in session, but Cas had begged off every time, pleading work obligations. Because he had less time to spend with Gail, he had given her total autonomy to rewrite Heaven's new laws. But, even though she was doing that, he could tell that she was very unhappy. She had weakly joked that he should stop by one of the board meetings sometime, so she could finally teach him how to run that Power Point presentation. And then she had opened up her mouth as if she were about to say something else, but then she had closed it again. Perhaps she had thought about reminding him of the day that she had originally tried to show it to him, but then they had ended up spending several sweet hours in bed, instead. But she hadn't bothered, just like she didn't bother to ask him to go to Earth with her any more.

He looked down at her hand. It would be so easy to just reach out and take it in his, if only for a moment. She had asked him if he still loved her, ahd he had assured her that he did. But, when was the last time he had shown her even one ounce of actual affection? Every time he thought about touching her, or kissing her, the indoctrination he'd received at Patricia's hands started to bounce around in his head, telling him that it was wrong. But it wasn't just physical love with Gail that was causing him a problem. It seemed like any kind of love for anyone was off limits these days. Cas hadn't seen any of their family or friends since the day that Patricia had committed suicide. Carolyn had had her baby, and the only reason Cas even knew the infant's name was because Gail had told him. She had popped over to Vancouver briefly with some baby gifts from the both of them, sending Cas's love and regrets. Sam's birthday had been celebrated last week, and again, Gail had gone to the party, apologizing on Cas's behalf. But she had come back just a short time later, and she had been crying, telling Cas she was tired of being his apologist. If he was planning on missing the next special occasion, he could damn well apologize for himself. Then she had stormed into the bedroom of their suite, slamming the door, and he'd heard the TV go on. There weren't normally televisions in Heaven, of course, but he was God now, and he could work certain miracles. She had originally asked him to put it in there, hoping that they would cuddle and watch together, just like they had always done. But he was always working now, and besides, Cas was loath to lay in bed with her. He had actually tried, just once. But when he'd put his arms around her, her nearness had been so intoxicating that it had scared him, and he'd had to pop back out into the living room. She had followed, asking him what was wrong. But since he couldn't articulate it, he had merely used the excuse of work. She had strode angrily into the bedroom and slammed the door that night, too.

And now, he was obsessed with the idea of the Holy War. It was all that he had been able to think of. The war was necessary, and it would benefit everyone. He was sure of it. Gail was an intelligent woman, but in this case, she was being short-sighted. Due to her inexplicable tendency to let her guard down around Crowley, the King of Hell had escaped, threatening their entire family in the process. But, what was Cas supposed to do? Call off the war, just because innocents could die? Of course innocents could die. Such were the fortunes of war. But the fact that Gail was so adamantly against it should count for something, shouldn't it? Hadn't he told her numerous times that he placed her above all else? Was he too close to the situation to see it for what it really was? Or, was she?

"I have to go," Cas said now. He popped out of the living room as Gail stared disbelievingly at the empty space where he'd just been.

Dean was tossing and turning in his bed, dozing but not really sleeping. He had too much on his mind. The main thing was what was going on with Cas these days. Gail had shown up at Sam's birthday party all by herself again, making the usual excuses. Sam had said he understood, but Dean and Frank had both been mad. Then they'd had a bit too much to drink, and then they'd started hassling Gail. What the hell was going on with Cas? Nobody worked all the time, not even God, they'd said. Did he think he was too good to hang around with mere humans anymore? But Gail hadn't exactly been in the joking mood. She'd tried changing the subject, but they had kept after her. They all missed him too, and they didn't understand why they never saw him anymore. Finally, Gail had lost her temper, saying that she wasn't seeing all that much of Cas herself these days, and not to worry, they might be seeing plenty of Angels soon, once they found themselves in the middle of the Holy War Cas was planning. Then she'd started to cry, and then she'd popped out.

"What the hell is she babbling about?" Frank had demanded of Bobby, who was sitting on one of the library area chairs, giving Angela her bottle. Every time that Bobby came to Earth to see his friends, if Angela was in the vicinity, he made a beeline for her. If she was sleeping, he would tickle her, and then tell Jody that she'd woken up. Hey, what could he say? She knew her Grandpa, he would say, shrugging. Then he would pick Angela up and hold her, and offer to feed her. Bobby was making up for a lot of lost time. He'd missed a lot of family occasions when he'd been stuck in Heaven. Nowadays, he came down whenever he pleased. Cas had made the comment that Bobby was supposed to check with him before coming to Earth, but Bobby had scoffed at that notion, saying that Cas was just flexing his muscles. Cas knew that Bobby was going anyway, but he wisely let it go.

Bobby had frowned at Frank's question, but he filled the group in on what he knew of the activities in Heaven. Everyone had been puzzled by what they were hearing. Cas wanted to start a Holy War with Crowley? Why the hell would he do that, all of a sudden? Everything had been pretty peaceful on the Demon front; why stir up the hornet's nest now?

The general consensus was that Gail was being overly dramatic. They all knew how she was about Cas. Frank had rolled his eyes and said that his sister was probably just pissed off that she couldn't sit in Cas's lap in the High Office while he was working, and they had all laughed.

But Dean was uneasy. He remembered the discussion he'd had with Gail a while back, just the two of them, when she'd been adamant that Cas was crazy. The others were making light of the situation, but Dean wasn't sure it was so funny.

He rolled over on his side and opened his eyes, so he could punch his pillow into submission.

"Hello, Dean," Cas said calmly.

Dean jerked fully awake. "Cas! What the hell?" he exclaimed. "What are you doing? How long have you been here?"

"About an hour or so," Cas replied. "I was just waiting for you to wake up. I know you don't like to be disturbed when you're trying to sleep."

Dean sat up and turned on the bedside lamp, clutching at his chest. "Man, you almost gave me a heart attack," he said, but he was already starting to smile. "This takes me back. Remember? You used to do this all the time. Drove me nuts. But now, I almost miss it. We never see you anymore."

"I'm sorry for that, Dean," Cas remarked. He shifted in his chair. He had quietly pulled it up to Dean's bedside to begin his vigil. "I remember there was a time when we hardly saw each other at all. But, I wanted to talk to you now. I did not mean to scare you."

"You didn't scare me, not really, I just - " Dean swung his legs onto the floor, and now his and Cas's knees were touching, because Cas was sitting so close. "This takes me back, too," Dean said wryly. "Remember when I taught you about personal space?"

"Oh, yes," Cas said, nodding. "You used to say that I stood inappropriately close to you."

There was silence for a moment, and then Dean gestured from Cas to himself, and then back again. "OK, well, look at how you're sitting right now."

Cas looked down at the spot where their knees were touching, then back up at Dean's face. Dean waited as patiently as he could.

"Oh," Cas finally said. "Personal space. Right." He moved his chair back an inch or so, and Dean shook his head slowly. Unbelievable. But he had really missed his friend, and he wanted to move the conversation along, so he said, "There ya go, buddy. Now, what did you want to talk to me about?"

Cas was silent for another moment, and then he said, "I can't remember what it feels like to be me anymore, Dean. And, what's worse, I can't remember who Gail and I are together."

Aw, geez, Dean thought. Here we go. But at least Cas was trying to communicate. That was definitely a start. "What the hell's going on with you, Cas?" he said wearily. "Gail says you're gonna start a Holy War with Crowley." Cas said nothing, so Dean went on, "The other day, I was talking to Rob, and you know what he said to me? He wanted to know where we were going to take Angela and Peter, to hide them during the fighting. And then, he told me to tell you that he was ready to fight, if you needed him to."

Cas looked at him, startled. "Rob wants to fight? But, he's - "

Dean nodded. "Yep. But you're his hero, Cas. He talks about you all the time, now. He says you're God, and God knows best." Dean sighed. "You know that me and Sammy and Frank and Jody would follow you through the Gates of Hell if you asked us to. If you told me right now that you needed me to pick up a blade and go kill Crowley, I'd do it in a heartbeat, because it's you. You're my best friend, Cas, and I trust you implicitly. But, I'll tell you what: if you're gonna start another Armageddon, you'd better have a damn good reason. 'Cause if you're putting those kids in danger because of some ancient vendetta between you and Crowley, or because he looked cross-eyed at your wife a couple of times, you and I are gonna have a problem, and I don't care if you ARE God."

Once again, Cas said nothing. But suddenly, he reached out and took Dean's hand. Funny; he couldn't take his own wife's hand, but he could take Dean's. "You've been such a wonderful friend to me," Cas told him. "You always have been."

Dean let Cas hold his hand for a moment, and then, he gently extricated himself. "OK, Cas," he said. "You're just making it weird, now. Guys don't do stuff like this. Ever."

"But Dean, that's how Angels express affection," Cas told him.

"Fine. Then, go up to Heaven and hold your wife's hand," Dean said gruffly. "Ordinarily, I wouldn't stick my nose in, but she tells me that you guys haven't 'held hands' in a long time. She's pretty grouchy about it, too."

Cas frowned. "But that's just it, Dean. When I take her hand, I feel something different than when I take your hand."

"I sure hope so," Dean wisecracked. But then, his forehead wrinkled. "What's the problem, Cas? Talk to me, buddy."

"Whenever I am close to Gail, I feel as if I want to touch her, and kiss her," Cas said quietly.

"That's OK, Cas. There's nothing wrong with that," Dean explained, as if he was talking to a child. Wow. Gail had told him about this, but Dean had thought that she was exaggerating. "You guys are in love. You do that kind of stuff all the time."

"It's a Sin," Cas said harshly.

"Who told you that?" Dean asked him. "Patricia? Gail's your wife, Cas. Guys like you get married just so you can have a license to do what comes naturally to the rest of us." He smirked, waiting for a reaction. But this version of Cas wasn't taking the bait. He was just sitting there, staring at Dean expressionlessly. Raising being inscrutable to a whole new level.

Finally, Dean sighed. "I remember you, standing here in this bunker, telling us we had to rescue Gail from Crowley's den, not because it was the right thing to do, but because...uh, how did you put it, again?"

"'Because I love her, Dean. I love her with every form and fibre of my being'," Cas replied automatically.

Dean's smirk changed into a genuine smile. "Yeah. That. And do you remember what I said to you?"

"Yes, I do," Cas answered.

"Good, because I don't," Dean said. "What DID I say?"

"You rolled your eyes, and told me to cut out the chick-flick crap," Cas responded.

"Oh," Dean said. "Well, I admit that does sound like me. OK, then, how about when we were all together in Vegas for the first time? You were getting ready in our room for your date with Gail. What did you say to me then?"

"I told you that I had never been intimate with a woman before, and that I was afraid she couldn't possibly love me the way that I loved her," Cas said.

"OK, and what did I say then?"

"You rolled your eyes and said that people had been having sex since the beginning of time, and to get over myself and be a man," Cas replied.

"Oh," Dean said again, frowning. Then after a moment, he added, "I'm kind of a dick sometimes, aren't I?"

"Yes," Cas answered promptly. As Dean's frown deepened, Cas continued, "But I also remember what you said to me on my wedding day. You said that, besides Sam, mine and Gail's love was the one constant that you could always rely on. You said that our relationship represented hope to you. Then you called me a lucky bastard, and embraced me."

"There you go," Dean said happily. "Now, does any of that sound like a sin to you?"

"No," Cas said thoughtfully. "No, it does not."

"That's because it isn't," Dean said firmly. "Now, give your head a shake, and go see your wife. Like the old expression goes: 'Make love, not war.' And, Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Congrats on being God," Dean said sincerely. "I'm proud of you."

The two men looked at each other for a moment, and then Dean said, "Now, get lost. I'm trying to sleep." He laid back down on the bed and pulled the covers over himself. Cas smiled and turned off the lamp, and then he winked himself away.

"I must go away from here," Cas said formally.

"What? Where? For how long?" Gail asked him. She was utterly bewildered. He had just popped into their suite in Heaven. She'd gone up there after he'd disappeared from their house on Earth. Now he was back, with no word about where he had been, or where he was planning to go.

"Do not tell anyone that I am gone," he continued, ignoring her questions. "Crowley cannot know; otherwise, he may strike while I am away. I will be off the grid, as the expression goes. But I will leave our Originals frequency on, in case you need to contact me urgently. But please, do not call me unless it is an emergency. I need quiet contemplation right now."

He slipped his blazer off and draped it over the arm of the couch. Then he reached into the inside pocket and pulled out his blade. He waved his hand over it, and it glowed bright white for a moment. Then he extended it to Gail. "Take it. I have put the powers of the Office into it. The moment you touch it, you will be God, pro tem, until I return. Do whatever you need to do in my absence. Whatever you decide, I will support you. But I need to do this, Gail. I need to get myself right. I am wrestling with many matters of conscience and morality right now."

"Can I do anything to help you, sweetie? Anything at all?" she asked him.

"No," he said shortly, but his voice was gentle. "Just stay safe. We will talk again, upon my return."

He extended the blade to her again, and this time, Gail took it. There was a blinding flash of white light, and then, when Gail could see again, Cas was gone.

VIGNETTE - SHUT UP AND DRIVE

Gail waited a week, but Cas hadn't returned, and she hadn't heard from him. As near as she had been able to figure, he had gone on some kind of a religious retreat, or something. Maybe that was a good thing. He had said he needed to "get himself right". Maybe that meant that he had finally realized that there was something wrong with him. He wouldn't have gone ahead and checked himself into a mental hospital, would he? Then she remembered that he had transferred his Godly powers to her, so she sent out The Eye, but he was nowhere to be seen. Nowhere. She sighed. He wouldn't have made it that easy for her, would he? Then again, if he needed quiet time to think, shouldn't she just give him that? But then, her blood ran cold. He'd also said that he was wrestling with matters of conscience, and morality. What if he decided that he didn't want to live with her anymore? He still thought that any kind of physical contact with her was a sin. So it wouldn't be a giant leap for him to conclude that they shouldn't be staying in the same quarters, then, would it? It didn't seem to matter that they were married; any and all physical expressions of affection had been taken off the table. Gail supposed she would have to deal with her own feelings on the matter soon, if things remained status quo. Could she be married to a man who refused to show her the slightest bit of affection, even as far as not even holding her hand? Even when she and Cas had been celibate, he had always been happy to hold her hand, or give her a hug, or even a chaste kiss. But when was the last time he had done any of those things? She honestly couldn't remember any more. Would she be able to stand it if things remained that way for all of eternity? But, honestly, what was the alternative? Not to be with Cas at all? She might as well stop breathing, while she was at it.

Curiousity got the better of her for a moment, and she played around with The Eye for a bit. It was so weird, being able to look in on everyone this way. She peeked in on all the Angel Academies, just to try it out. She found that she could look at each classroom individually, or all of them at once, sort of like the ultimate picture-in-picture technology. Wow. Imagine all the sports fans who would love to be able to do this, especially during baseball or football season. Then she frowned. All of those young Angels, being trained how to fight. Self-defense was one thing, but war for war's sake was quite another. Hopefully, Cas was thinking about that on his retreat.

She peeked into the library and saw Chuck and Laurel, talking about Chuck's latest reworking of the script for the new Supernatural movie. When they had all been banned from contact with Earth by Patricia, Richard had been forced to go ahead and hire a new screenwriter. But Nicole had advised Dean that the scripts he had produced hadn't been very good, and the actors weren't pleased with them. And Cas might have a few bees buzzing around in his bonnet right now, but as soon as he had become God, Chuck had asked him if it was OK if Chuck called Richard to see if he could resume writing for the movie, and Cas had said yes. So Chuck was currently asking Laurel's opinion on some additional scenes he was thinking of adding to the script. Sam and Dean hadn't solved a case involving a vengeful spirit in ages, he was telling her. They'd been so wrapped up in the Tablet missions that they hadn't done much monster-hunting lately. Maybe it was time to go back to their roots. What did she think? Laurel smiled and said that whatever Chuck wrote, she was sure that she would love, and then they kissed. Gail looked away quickly after that. In a way, it was ironic; Chuck used to watch her and Cas, back when he had been battling his darker impulses. But Gail had no interest in voyeurism, although she was very happy that Chuck and Laurel had found romance with each other.

Then, just for the hell of it, Gail looked at Frank's house, just to see what was going on. If he was there, maybe she would go down there for a while, just to visit. Who knew how long Cas was going to be away? And if she just sat here waiting for him, she'd go nuts.

Gail saw Dean and Rob, standing on the sidewalk outside the house. What were they doing?

"Now, if I agree to do this, you've gotta make sure you listen to everything I say, and do everything I tell you," Dean said to Rob sternly. "OK?"

"Yeah, I know, Uncle Dean," Rob replied. "I just appreciate you doing it. Dad gave up on me. He said I was making his hair greyer."

"I didn't think that was possible," Dean said, smirking. "Here he comes now. It's about time."

Frank came driving up in the Charger. He parked it at the curb in front of the house and got out. "Let me guess. He's roped you into it, now," Frank said to Dean.

His friend shrugged. "Hey, every guy has to learn how to drive sometime. Rob said you were freaking him out."

Frank smirked. "I probably was. Oh, well. He's your problem now. You know what they say, Winchester. Those who can't do, teach."

Dean opened his mouth, preparing to say something that Rob probably shouldn't hear, when a voice from behind him said, "Will you teach me, too?"

Dean turned around to see Gail standing there. She had winked herself to Frank's back yard so she wouldn't be seen by any of the neighbours, and then she had walked down the driveway.

Frank's smirk widened. "You've gotta be kidding me with this. YOU want to learn how to drive? Why? Can't you just zap yourself anywhere you want to go?"

"Yeah, but...you all drive," she retorted. "Even Cas drives. Why shouldn't I learn how?"

Frank shrugged. "No reason, I guess. But I'm not letting you anywhere near the Pookmobile. My insurance rates are high enough, as it is. You can pop these guys over to that house you never use, and take that car you guys never drive. That way, when you have your first fender-bender, my premiums won't go up." He looked at Dean. "I'll pray for you, buddy. It's a good thing she can heal you guys, 'cause you're gonna need it. Actually, we might have to go higher up the food chain, depending on how catastrophic the damage is. How is Cas, anyway? Still keeping his nose to the brimstone?"

"Good one, Dad," Rob said, sticking his hand up for a high-five.

"Ahhh, it's not gonna be that bad," Dean said, shrugging. "All they need is a good teacher."

"Really? Why don't you teach them how to drive in the Impala, then?" Frank retorted.

"Shut up, Frank," Dean shot back.

Gail was laughing. This was what she had missed, right here. She put her arms around Frank's waist, giving her brother a hug. "I love you, you big poopyhead," she told him.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled good-naturedly. "You're just sucking up now so I'll stick up for you later, when you have to tell the Almighty that you wrecked his car." He hugged her back, looking at Dean. "Take good care of my kid, but don't take any crap from him, either. And feel free to keep these two occupied for a while. I'm gonna go inside and see if I can get a little sugar from my wife, in-between feedings."

"Ewwww," Gail and Rob said simultaneously, and they all laughed.

"Jinx. You owe me a beer," Dean said, and they looked at him. "That's not right," Rob said. "Either me or Aunt Gail was supposed to say that. Right, Dad?"

"Wrong," Dean said cheerfully. "Cause you're both gonna owe me a beer and a burger, once the lesson is over."

"Well, good luck," Frank said. Then he turned around and started walking towards the house. He'd meant what he had said. It was so seldom that he and Jody got to spend any uninterrupted time together that he meant to take full advantage. "'Later," he said over his shoulder.

Gail was smiling again. She hoped her brother and Jody were able to get some alone time. That couldn't be too easy, with a teenager and a little baby in the house. She poked Dean. "Drive us to my house," she said to him.

A couple of hours later, they were at the diner. Dean was already on his second beer, Rob was having a strawberry milkshake, and Gail was sipping at a glass of wine.

"Wow," she was saying. "I can't believe we're all still alive." Dean gave her a look, and she added, "You know what I mean."

"I can't believe it, either," Dean said grumpily. "How in the hell can such a smart person not be able to tell the difference between the gas pedal and the brake pedal?"

"You shouldn't talk about Rob like that," she quipped, trying to look innocent.

"Oh, har, har," Dean retorted. "It's a good thing I have your husband The Lord on speed dial, 'cause I thought for sure that he was gonna have to come down and scrape us all off the highway."

"Don't be so dramatic, Dean," she said, making a face. "It wasn't that bad. I just don't know why the gas can't be for the right foot, and the brake for the left foot. That way, each foot has a job. The way you were showing me, you use the right foot for everything, and the left foot just sits there, with nothing to do."

Dean rolled his eyes. Unbelieveable. "If your car was a stick, I think I would have had you just run me over, instead," he said, shaking his head slowly. He looked across the table at Rob, who was sipping at his milkshake and trying not to grin. "You're doing good, though," Dean said to Frank's son. "I'll teach YOU anytime."

"That's OK, my driving career is officially over," Gail said. "I don't like driving. I don't know what you guys see in it. I'd rather just travel the usual way, or else let Cas do it."

"How is he, anyway?" Dean asked her. He hadn't seen Cas since that night he and his friend had had their talk, a talk that Dean hadn't told anyone about, not even Sam.

Gail shrugged. "The same," she said noncommittally. "Busy." Cas had instructed her not to tell anyone what was going on, and he'd been very stern about it.

"I pray to him every night," Rob said suddenly, licking his straw.

Gail looked at the boy. "You do?" she said, surprised.

"Yeah, of course I do," Rob said. "But, I don't ask him for stuff. I know that's wrong. I just ask him to keep everybody safe, and I tell him I sleep better now, knowing that he's running Heaven."

"You realize it's really your Aunt Gail who's running Heaven, right?" Dean said, smirking.

Gail nearly spat out her mouthful of wine. Then she realized: it was just Dean giving her a hard time, as usual.

Rob was smiling. "That's OK, Uncle Dean. My mom rules our house, too. She said everybody knows the woman is the one who's really in charge of the marriage."

"See, that's why I never got married," Dean told the youth.

"Really?" Rob retorted. "My Dad said that's because nobody but Uncle Sam could stand to live with you for that long."

Dean looked at him, did a double-take, and then looked at Gail. "Are you gonna let him get away with that? How come everybody in your family has to be a smartass?"

Rowena rolled her eyes. She was sitting in the booth right behind theirs, but Gail and Dean's backs were to her, and she had her black wig on. She'd been amazed when the three of them had come walking in here. What a stroke of luck. So she was sitting with her back to their table, listening to their conversation. So far they hadn't said anything particularly earth-shattering. She'd known that Castiel was God now, because Raguel had known. That fact had perturbed Rowena. It was certainly going to be a lot harder for her to screw around with the couple now.

"I did want to ask you something serious, if that's OK, Aunt Gail," Rob went on. "I know it might not be any of my business, but why are we going to fight a Holy War with Crowley?"

Rowena just about slid right out of the booth. Out of the mouths of babes. Although, to be entirely accurate, this particular "babe" was tall and gangly now, with a deepening voice and looking like he was in need of a shave. How time flew.

Rowena opened her ears wide, holding her breath. "You shouldn't say stuff like that when we're out in public," Dean admonished the teen. "You never know who could be listening."

Too right, Rowena thought, smiling to herself.

"OK, Uncle Dean. I get it. But we hardly see Gail any more, and we never see Cas. One time, he told me never to fight unless I had a good reason for doing it. So, what's his reason?" Rob persisted.

Dean was looking at Gail now. He wanted an answer to that particular question, too. Cas had evaded the question like a son of a bitch when he'd come to see Dean that night.

Gail was uncomfortable. "I don't know why you're asking ME that," she said evasively. "You should be asking HIM. Besides, there might not even BE a war. It's only...a theory, right now."

Rowena's mind was racing. It was obvious to her what was going on here: Castiel wanted to wage war on Hell, and Gail didn't agree. But because Gail wasn't God, and Castiel was, his wishes would prevail. But, this was interesting; Gail had always been able to use her wiles to get Castiel to do whatever she wanted, before. Had the Angel's promotion come with a backbone included? Rowena took a moment's indulgence to picture Castiel coming to her hotel room, ordering her to get down on her knees and worship him. She didn't ordinarily go in for things like that; if anything, Rowena was usually the dominant one in most relationships. Look at her and Chuck, for example. She had made him squeal like the pig that he was. But, Chuck was weak. Rowena was attracted to assertive, Alpha men. Well, you couldn't get much more Alpha than God, could you? She had aligned herself with Raguel because he more or less fit the Alpha bill, but he was so sour-faced, and unattractive. Castiel, on the other hand...she could definitely work with that. If he wasn't too righteous, that was. She wouldn't particularly mind getting down on her knees for him, as long as he would do the same for her, afterwards. And if he would just put a little divine power into his ministrations, so much the better. Her eyes hadn't rolled back into her head for quite a while.

She shook herself out of her reverie, throwing a couple of bills onto the table. She needed to go and talk to Raguel about this. He was off on one of his research missions, but she could use a summoning spell. He was going to want to hear about this. There had to be a way they could use the notion of a Holy War to their advantage.

Rowena got up and walked right past her enemies, and they never had a clue. Before Raguel had left for Europe, he had shielded her. He knew that Gabriel was still sniffing around, and now that Castiel was God, Raguel had deduced that she could probably use the protection that only an Archangel could provide. So, Gail had sat back-to-back with Rowena, and never even sensed her presence.

Rowena sauntered out of the diner.

VIGNETTE - DESERT PRAYERS

Another week passed, then another, and Cas was really suffering now. Extreme temperatures had never really bothered him before, one way or the other. But he had been wandering the desert for nearly a month now, and it was the beginning of the hot season. The temperature rose as soon as the sun did, and almost immediately, it was scorching hot. Then, the instant the sun went down, his teeth began to chatter.

He had come here right after talking with Gail, and conferring his Godly powers upon her. At the moment, he was a strange hybrid of Angel and human. He'd wanted to be more human than anything, because he'd needed to suffer the trials that he'd suffered these past couple of weeks. So he'd wandered and wandered, lost deep in thought, alternately frying in the desert heat of the daytime, or curled up in a ball at night, if he needed to rest.

Mostly, though, he'd kept moving. Because he was mainly human, Cas felt hunger and thirst, but he denied himself sustenance. You couldn't suffer tribulations with a full belly and a tall, cold glass of iced tea in your hand. And he'd also felt the need for sleep, but he had been denying himself that, as well. The more tired he was, the more likely he would be to have the kinds of visions that were required for an epiphany.

And he'd had plenty of visions so far, hallucinations that Cas was sure were designed to teach him a few lessons. But either he was a slow learner, or his trials were not yet concluded. Maybe he was destined to wander for 40 days and 40 nights. He was nearing that point now, he felt sure. Well, it would be an extremely Biblical thing to do, anyway.

At first, his struggles had been insular. Cas was his own worst enemy right now, so that only stood to reason. He had been walking and walking, having an internal dialogue. He was God. He was an Angel. He was a screw-up. He was a man.

Then, as his grasp on reality began to wane, he started to appear in front of himself as his different personae. He was Abel, the meek shepherd, whose needs had been simple. Actually, this scenario was almost like those days, Cas thought with some humour, except that the poor sheep would have been just as hungry as he was here in the desert, with no grass to eat. Abel had said nothing; he'd just walked with Cas for a bit. Then Abel disappeared, and Castiel the Angel took his place. Castiel looked at Cas, head tilted, as if he were some kind of a new and interesting species of insect. That look was familiar, Cas thought wryly. That was how he himself used to look at the Winchesters, and Bobby, and all of the humans he'd met when he had first come here. There was so much he hadn't understood about human behaviour and custom back then. Cas had had other existences as a human in the past, of course, but Castiel, Angel of the Lord, had not. But, eventually, he had begun to learn, and then he had begun to love, and by the time he had been absorbed into his human family, Castiel had been absorbed into Cas, and they were now one and the same.

After a while, Castiel disappeared, and Cas walked on. He continued to think. He had always been primarily concerned with what his mission was, ever since he had begun to serve Heaven. Sometimes, it had been clear. Rescuing Dean from Hell, eradicating Lucifer. Those missions had been noble and honourable, and he had been proud to have been chosen to accomplish them. But other times, the morals behind his so-called missions had been very questionable. Following orders, but not knowing why. Being told not to ask why, because he was supposed to follow orders. Humans called that a "Catch-22", and it was enough to drive one crazy.

Cas had always thought that his missions were his Father's Will, but he had been dismayed to find out that was not always the case. True, his Father had been stern sometimes, and if an old-fashioned Biblical punishment was warranted, his Father was only too glad to oblige. But the bottom line was that God the Father had always been mainly about love. Many people didn't understand that. How could God test people, and punish them, yet claim to love them? But Cas understood. His Father loved him very much indeed. That was why He had sometimes made Cas's existence a living Hell. Because He loved him so much.

But Cas was God now, wasn't he? So then, what was his problem?

And then, the parade of other people started, people who had absolutely no compunctions about telling Cas what his problems were, and pointing out that they were numerous. His brother Cain appeared, telling him that everything that had happened from Creation on had been his fault. They'd been a perfectly happy little family, until Abel had come along. He should never even have been born.

And therein lay the problem: at his core, in his deepest heart of hearts, a part of Cas had always believed that Cain was right. Everything HAD been fine before he had been born. But he hadn't asked to be born, had he? There must be a reason for his existence, though, and he found it hard to believe that his Father had brought him into the world just to mess up Cain's life. Maybe God had brought Abel into being to serve as a living example of the adage that the meek would one day inherit the Earth, but it certainly seemed like that particular homily was taking quite a while to kick in.

"You got that right, Brother," Lucifer said, grinning. He was sitting on a huge rock up ahead, petting a scorpion. "You have to be a dick to get what you want in this life. Come on, Cas. You know that. You rebelled against Heaven, and look where it's gotten you. You've got the world at your feet. You've got humans who would pick up arms and follow you into battle, without question. Even the young kids, like Rob. You're gonna be like the Pied Piper of Death, Cas. It'll be great. Personally, I think you're going about this God thing the wrong way, though. You've got a sweet little wife at home who's more than good to go, and here you are, wandering around the desert like Lawrence of freaking Arabia, or something. By all means, wage war with Crowley. Get a bunch of innocents killed. That's your specialty, isn't it? But, do me a favour. Please. I'm begging you. For...well, Your - sake, go home and stick it in your wife, before she decides that Gabriel's the better option. I always hated that guy. Or she could slum it, and pop into Sam or Dean's room one night. Sam and Quinn are pretty hot and heavy right now, but you know THAT'S not gonna last. It's hard to date a psychic. They know way too much about you. For instance, she knows Sammy's still in love with your wife, but she's trying to overlook it. And then, there's Dean. His girlfriend's traipsing all over the world, having a career. He needs her way more than she needs him. But, Dean is Dean. Sooner or later, he's gonna be looking for some nookie, and if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with, right, Cas? Did you know that your wife had a little heart-to-heart with your ol' buddy Dean recently? She told him she thinks you're crazy, and she was considering going to Crowley for help. Actually, if I thought our Brother had any discernible kind of sexuality, I'd warn you about HIM. But when it comes to Gail, it seems like Crowley's been all show and no go. Just like me. I guess I shoulda hit that when I had the chance. If I was real, I'd go over there now, and do it to her myself."

Lucifer looked down at the scorpion he was holding. "Hungry, Brother?" he said to Cas. He held his palm out flat, and the scorpion turned into a plate with a steak, potatoes, and vegetables on it. Then he snapped his fingers, and he was holding a tall glass of ice water in his other hand. Cas could hear the ice cubes tinkling in the glass, and he could see the beads of condensation on it. It was so hot here. He hadn't had anything to drink in days. His throat was parched, and his lips were cracked.

"Come on, Cas, don't be such a martyr, already. Just have a teeny-tiny sip of water. No strings attached, I promise," Lucifer cajoled.

Cas made a harsh sound in his throat. Yeah, right. The Devil was suddenly an altruist. Sure. "We got rid of you in Madagascar. Get thee behind me, you ass."

He walked on. Then, it was Xavier, who was trying to tell Cas that Cas had tortured him, and then sent him to Hell.

"Nice try," Cas scoffed. "None of that ever happened, and you know it. You and Alexander and Lanister went to Hell because you were bad people."

"Oh, and you're such a saint?" Xavier said sarcastically. "Were we at the same tribunal?"

"I've learned from my mistakes," Cas insisted.

"Really? Because from everything I'm hearing, you're about to declare a Holy War," Xavier said dryly. "Of course, you probably think that's OK, because this time you'll have others to do the killing for you. If there's no blood on your blade, you aren't responsible, right, Castiel? I don't suppose you've ever heard of Charles Manson, have you? Crowley has him down here, teaching school."

Cas was speechless. Was Xavier actually comparing him to Charles Manson? WAS he Charles Manson?

"I'll save you a spot down there, Castiel," Xavier told him. "Maybe you could teach a class of your own." Then he disappeared.

Cas was stumbling now, exhausted from his walk, dehydrated and lightheaded. The Father was humbling him now. Reminding him that he was a screw-up. As if he needed the reminder.

"So it's come to this, has it?" Crowley said coolly. "Now you think you're Jesus Christ, wandering in the desert. And to what purpose, Cas? So you can convince yourself that your existence has significance? What about if I told you that it doesn't? Maybe you should just lay down and die here, and let the vultures eat you. Your wife is God now, and she'll be a good one. Kind and benevolent, but she won't take any guff from me, that's for sure. And, the Summit meetings we could have? What do the young kids say these days? 'Legendary'. No one needs you around, Castiel. No one."

"Don't listen to him, my Son," God said. Cas had staggered over to where Crowley stood, perhaps meaning to strike him. But God the Father had suddenly appeared, and now Cas fell to his knees, half in exhaustion, and the other half in supplication.

Crowley frowned. He snapped his fingers as if to disappear, but nothing happened.

"My Sons," God remarked. "Ruler of Heaven, and ruler of Hell, the two most important domains. What a proud moment this should be for me. Too bad you're both behaving like spoiled children."

He looked at Crowley. "When will you ever learn? The Seven Deadly Sins are deadly for a reason, you know. You have always been jealous of your younger brother, if for no other reason than that he had the temerity to be born. Who made YOU the King of the Universe? Last time I looked, that would be Me. You only continue to exist because I have a sentimental attachment to my original creations. And I have to admit, there have been times when I have been proud to call you my Son. But, I'll tell you something: if you ever hold a piece of broken glass to my Daughter's throat again, I will not hesitate to rain down all the powers of the Righteous upon you. You owe her an apology. I have half a mind to declare Holy War on you Myself. You've got some nerve. If I were you, I wouldn't alienate this branch of your family, Crowley. Even now, your own mother schemes against you. Now, be gone."

God waved His hand, and Crowley disappeared in a puff of smoke. Then He turned to Cas. "And, you. Look at you. You finally achieve the High Office after all these years, and what do you do? Thumb your nose at everything I've taught you. You form armies, and keep all your loved ones at arm's length. After all that separation, and all that torment that Patricia put you and Gail through, you reward my Daughter's loyalty and stubbornness on your behalf by telling her that loving her is a Sin. Your own wife. Incidentally, there's more to Patricia's situation than meets the eye. But, I'll let you find out about that yourself, when it's appropriate. But right now, we have to get you back to yourself. I'm not saying that what Patricia did to you was right. Far from it. But you can't worry about that, my Son. You have to look at yourself, and realize that you're enough. Do you understand, Cas? You're enough."

Cas was crying now, which was amazing, considering that he didn't feel like he had one drop of moisture left in his body. He felt as dry and desiccated as the tumbleweeds that were blowing around in the desert.

"Are you sure, Father?" Cas pleaded.

"Wow," God said, his lips twitching. "If you can't believe God, who can you believe? All right, maybe you'll believe this little lady, then. She's been waiting very patiently to talk to you."

God waved His hand, and Gail suddenly appeared at His side. She looked up at Him. "How are you, Father? How's retirement? What does God DO when He retires, anyway?" Then she shrugged. "Anything He wants, I guess."

God smiled. He had always liked Gail's sense of humour, and the fact that she had always been respectful of Him without being frightened of Him. "How have you been, my Daughter?" he asked her, smiling gently. "I see your family is expanding. Little Angela is very cute. She looks like you did, when you were that age."

Gail smiled shyly. "Thank you for the compliment," she said to him.

God looked at Cas again. His Son was still on his knees, and he was looking at Gail with an expression of longing. "Let Me tell you what your mission is, Castiel, and then I will leave the two of you to talk alone. Your mission is to regain Paradise for those who have lost it, my Son. That includes yourself. And you can start by getting back on the path, and loving your wife and your Brothers and Sisters, both Angel and human. No one wants war, Castiel. I thought I taught you better than that. How does that song go, Gail?"

"Song? Oh, you mean: 'War! Huh! What is it good for? Absolutely nothing, say it again'," Gail sang, and God threw back his head and laughed. "Yes! That one!" He said delightedly. "That's always been one of my favourites. That one, and 'FunkyTown'."

Gail's mouth dropped open, and then she laughed and laughed. "Thanks, I needed that," she told Him.

"Please be patient with my Son," God said to her. "We all know his heart is in the right place, but sometimes, his feet tend to wander a bit." He looked down at Cas. "I never wanted Angels to dress in sackcloth and ashes, and I never wanted whoever sat in My chair to be a humourless old fuddy-duddy. It took centuries of cultivation, but you're finally the right combination, Cas. Sweet and sour, dark and light, Angel and human. If there is a reason for you to go through trials, believe me, Castiel, you will go through some trials. But right now should be a time for celebration. I have passed on the family business to you, my Son, and that business primarily consists of love. It has always been so."

Cas looked up at his Father with admiration. This was God the Father at His finest. If only people who were depressed and in despair could see Him now, they would know that the Creator of all things had created love first, because without love, there could be nothing else. How could Cas have forgotten that?

God put His hand on His Son's head. "I can see you're starting to get it now," God said in a gentle voice. "So, as a reward, you can have one thing from Me, the thing you want the most at this moment. What will it be, my Son?"

Cas started to weep again, salty tears that he could not afford to shed. He was so dehydrated now that he feared he wouldn't be able to speak. But he cleared his throat and said, "Will you please send Gail a sign, something to assure her that I still love her? I think she may believe that's not the case anymore. She has been so patient with me, but I fear her patience is reaching its limits. And, who could blame her? I let myself get influenced by external forces, and by the powers of the Office. I was Prideful, and I thought I was being Righteous. But Gail said I was being an ass."

God smiled. "That's my Daughter," He said softly. Then, he turned to Gail. "And you, dear? You get one, too. What would YOU like most of all right now?"

She stretched out her hand, and a moment later, she was holding a canteen filled with water. She moved forward quickly and got down on her knees beside her husband, offering it to him. Cas took it from her, clasping her hands in his for a moment as the transfer was made. Of all of the things she could have asked for...was it any wonder he loved her with his whole heart and soul? Cas took a long drink from the canteen, then another, and then he upended it over his head, pouring the remainder of the cold water on himself. That was the best feeling, because it had felt like a baptism. Though he probably should have saved a bit more water to drink.

Gail looked up at God. "That canteen is bottomless, isn't it, Father?" she said hopefully.

He raised an eyebrow. "I don't believe you specified that, when you requested it."

"I would respectfully ask that you not hold that tiny little boo-boo of mine against my husband," she answered charmingly, and then, she tried a smile on for size. "Can we just call it my belated birthday present, then? I didn't even get a cake this year. And let's face it, Christmas really sucked, too."

God was silent for a moment, and then He shook his head, smiling slowly. "As the expression goes, I was definitely on my game the day I created you, my Daughter." He waved his hand towards the canteen and said, "There. Unlimited water." Then he put one hand on Cas's head and the other on Gail's, smiling warmly at the couple. "You see, this is why you two are my favourites. At the risk of stating the obvious, I offered you both the gift of anything. Anything at all. And what did you do? Castiel asked Me to communicate his love for you, his wife, and Gail, you asked Me for life-sustaining water for your husband. And that, in a nutshell, is the family business. Need I say more?"

Cas and Gail were looking at each other. No. He didn't need to say more. Their Father was absolutely right.

"I love you, my darling," Cas said to her, and she responded, "Please come back soon, Cas, but please don't come back until you're sure about who you are, and what you want to do. I'll be waiting. I don't need a sign. I know how I feel about you, Cas. I have always loved you, and I always will. No matter what. I made you a vow, and I expect you to hold me to it." She gave him a little smile.

"We have to go now, Gail," God said gently. "We have to let Castiel work this out on his own."

She looked at Cas once more. He hadn't taken his eyes off of her, but he hadn't been able to speak to her, either. The sight of his wife here in the desert, even though he knew she wasn't really here, had acted upon him just as the cold water had. Thanks to her, he was no longer thirsty or even hungry, and his head was clearer than it had been in weeks. His throat closed. How could he ever express his gratitude to her? How could he ever find the words to tell her about the depth of his feelings for her.

God sighed. "All right. Just one more. I agree; the two of you had a terrible Christmas. The next one will be much better, I promise." He waved his pinky finger, transferring Cas's thoughts to Gail's head. "There. Now, Gail knows you're just too tongue-tied right now to tell her that she is your whole life. Between you and me, I suspect that she knows that already. Now, the trick is for you to act like it. Then, the ripples in the pond will extend, and that's when your mission will truly begin. Goodbye, my Son."

Then God and Gail disappeared, and Cas was left on his own again, to do some more wandering. But this time, he did so with a lighter step, a smile on his face, and a full canteen.