Summary: Not knowing where else to turn, Castiel looks for God in the one place where He cannot possibly be. Cracktastically AU.

Warnings: I did it. I wrote a wincesty paragraph and a Dean/Cas. But it's just a little bit of each and they're played for laughs, so…aw, just read it. It's supposed to be funny, darn it! I'm not a shipper of either. I also wrote God as, well…it's probably blasphemous.


Holy Fish Taco

Castiel searches.

He looks all over the world, on the highest mountains, in the deepest valleys, in America, in Thailand, in the city, in the country. On land, on water, under the water.

Having found no trace of his Father on Earth, Castiel looks on other planets. As he stands on the desolate surface of one of the moons of Neptune, he reflects that perhaps God isn't even in this universe. The thought twists the corner of his vessel's mouth in a wry smirk.

He shifts between the worlds and ends up in a universe where Mary Campbell lived and a young black soldier of Sam's age reigns in Hell. Lucifer is still in his cage, and will stay there, from what Castiel can see, since both Dean and Sam are dead in this world (Dean, from being killed in a bar fight, and Sam, in the ghost town of Cold Oak), and the first seal has not yet been broken and never will be—this Dean Winchester is in Heaven.

God is not in this universe either.

He leaves that world quickly and finds himself in a motel room in Montana. Sam and Dean are there, thankfully, but Castiel sees that he is intruding on a private moment (having been carefully schooled by Dean when it is inappropriate to enter unheralded) and cloaks himself in invisibility.

"Mm, yeah, Dean, like that. Oh, shit, that feels good," Sam moans into the pillow while Dean—

Castiel cocks his head. He may not know much about the carnal acts of humans, but it looks to him as if the brothers are…fornicating. But they are brothers. Perhaps not in this world. He leaves when he realizes that he is staring and shifts into the next universe, undetected by the two humans.

He regrets it as soon as he does so. He appears in the motel room silently, remaining invisible. He'd learned from his last trip that it might be prudent to do so. He uncloaks himself when he sees that Dean is alone, reading a newspaper on one of the beds.

Dean startles and looks up. He grins, seeing who it is. It has been a long while since Castiel has seen Dean this relaxed, and so happy. He finds himself wondering why the man is so glad to see him in this world until warm lips crash down on his dry ones and he hears Dean murmuring, "Cas, what did I tell you about chapstick? Use it, dude."

Castiel teleports himself out of that universe as soon as he can wrap his mind around what is happening. Castiel had always known that Dean liked fornication, but really. With an angel? And how could the Castiel of that world condone it, consent to it?

Shaking his head in confusion (and how is it possible that he has grown more confused than when he started?), he continues looking for his Father, this time avoiding the Winchesters like the Biblical plague. He's had enough of seeing them like…that.

He lands on a celestial body that used to be a planet, which weeps as it tells him about how its higher status had been taken from it. Castiel sympathizes; he knows about losing rank. When Pluto is done crying, he asks it if it has seen God anywhere. It hasn't. Castiel leaves before the dwarf planet can resume weeping.

Castiel looks everywhere. Everywhere.

He even looks in a two-dimensional universe where depth perception hasn't been discovered yet. It leaves him feeling flat.

God is nowhere to be found.

So, weary of his search for One who does not want to be found, he returns to Earth, to America, and sits on a park bench feeling (yes, feeling; he is practically human now) lonely for home, his brothers and sisters, his absent Father.

He thinks of what he has now—a vessel whose rightful resident sacrificed himself for his family, a practically insignificant portion of his former angelic powers, and two brothers and an old man who he's come to think of as friends. Perhaps even closer than that…almost family, even.

He has faith in them, even if his Father cannot be found.

The chirping of his cell phone jolts him out of his musings. "Yes, Dean?" Human technology is fascinating.

"You still looking for God?"

"Yes, I am."

"Find Him?"

"No," Castiel sighs deeply. "He is nowhere."

"Did you check on that tortilla?" Dean jokes. It is not funny.

"I am in New Mexico now," Castiel replies. He is. He is standing in front of a faded wooden sign that reads, 'Tortilla Heaven.' It is next to a ramshackle shack with sun-bleached tables and benches planted around it.

"You are? Hey, Cas, bring me a fish taco, willya? New Mexico has the best fish tacos ever."

"Goodbye, Dean." Castiel disconnects the line.

He looks at the sign, sighs, and gets in line at the taco stand.

"What can I get you?" the man at the counter asks in accented English.

"I would like a fish taco, please," Castiel replies in Spanish.

"Momento." The man grins at him delightedly. "Dos dolares y noventa," he says.

Castiel pays him with the money Dean had given to him once. 'You might have to buy something, or someone,' he'd said. Castiel is thankful for his foresight.

He sits down at one of the empty tables. The paint is peeling off of the splitting boards of the benches, but it is sturdy enough to hold him. He unwraps the taco.

Under the silver paper wrapper, the flatbread filled with lettuce and a fillet of fried fish looks like any other greasy food Dean likes to eat. Castiel does not see what is so appetizing about such a meal. He certainly does not see what makes New Mexico fish tacos the best either.

Until he sighs and asks it, or rather in its general direction, "Father, what am I to do?"

"Eat me," the taco says.

Castiel blinks once and stares at his cooling taco. "Father?"

"Yes, My son," It says.

"Father?" Castiel cannot believe his ears. His Father, after searching so far and so long, has been here all along…on a flatbread, as Dean Winchester had said. Odd.

"Yes, Castiel." The Tortilla sounds slightly tired of repeating Itself. "It is I."

"Father, what are You doing on a flatbread—Flatbread?" Castiel corrects himself. His Father must always be referred to with respect.

"My son. I did not want you to find me. I even led you to…various worlds," here the Taco chuckled, "in attempts to thwart you, but you persisted. I felt that you should be rewarded for your loyalty."

"But Father, why did You let the world come to this?" Castiel queries.

The Holy Flatbread sighs. "I had grown weary of the bickering amongst My angels, the violence of My humans, the vile acts of Lucifer's demons. I wanted to see what would happen if I just…left."

"And now?"

"I cannot return, Castiel. I know what you have come here to ask Me. Once I have started the test, I cannot have a hand in it."

"Then what shall I do?" Castiel asks desperately, "Tell me what I should do."

"Eat Me," the Tortilla says.

Castiel is puzzled. "Is that another term for 'Bite me'?" He has often heard Dean utter that phrase, in the same defiant and mocking tone of voice he uses to say, 'Damn you' and other blasphemous utterances.

His Father sighs in the way only a Fish Taco can sigh. "No, My son. You look a little on the thin side. You should take care of yourself more. Eat the taco and go back to Dean."

"And then?" Castiel queries. "And then what should I do, Father?"

The Holy Taco sighs again. "That is for you to decide. I allowed you to fall for a reason, My child. Use the liberties that I have granted you. Now eat Me before I get cold. Fish tacos are not as delicious when they are cool."

Castiel always follows his Father's orders, so he eats the Holy Fish Taco and returns to Dean.

"Dude, where's my taco?"

"I ate It," Castiel tells him. "You were right; New Mexico fish tacos are heavenly."