Title: Deo Gratias

Summary: Honestly Cas doesn't know how he's going to pull this one off. First, he has to convince this cynical Dean Winchester there's demons that are out to get his brother. Secondly, the apocalypse could start any day now if he doesn't succeed in saving both Dean and Sam. Thirdly, he has to befriend Dean to help Heaven. God help us all. AU.

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.

Authors Note: If you don't review when you are done you are likely to spontaneously combust. Oh yeah. It'll happen. Do you want to chance that? Also, if things seem confusing in the beginning, it's meant to be that way. I'm obviously holding back secrets to be revealed at a later time and things shall become clearer as the chapters flow out.

You should note that this IS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE. Dean, Sam, Bobby, and John are not hunters.

IIIII

If a kid asks where rain comes from, I think a cute thing to tell him is 'God is crying.' And if he asks why God is crying, another cute thing to tell him is 'Probably because of something you did.' - Jack Handey

IIIII

Prologue

Castiel does not question the will of his Father. He may have insecurities of why his Father tells him to do things he does, but those are his own issues to deal with. He is an angel of the Lord and God's will shall be done.

So when his Lord tells him his next mission, he gratefully takes it upon his shoulders and gives his word that it will be carried out.

When he arrives in his human vessel, Jimmy Novak, it takes some time to become used to the new body. He walks somewhat awkwardly for a few minutes but manages to not kill himself by slipping on a magazine which was carelessly left on the floor. He picks it up and there are humans covered in what appears to be grotesquely-colored outfits with large headlines of people called "celebrities". He sets it down on the table and looks about the comfortable living space Jimmy calls home.

He's come to Earth to deliver an extremely urgent and important message to a human named Dean Winchester, age 24, currently residing in the state of South Dakota. He is the elder sibling of Sam Winchester, the being in question and of whom Castiel wishes to speak to him about. Thing is, Castiel hasn't much interaction with humans and is unsure of where to begin. He is a warrior, not a talker.

Do I simply appear at his home and tell him who I am? He wonders. That seems to suffice.

Castiel uses his powers to transport himself from one location to the next. Now he's standing on top of a salvaged car, looking down, and realizing that he's only wearing a white, collared button up shirt and a pair of jeans. Then suddenly he gets a feeling he can't describe-something nips at his flesh, and he realizes that there's snow on the ground. He's never experienced this particular discomfort before and has no name for it. But no matter, he should soon be talking to Dean.

He hops down off of the car and hears a hissing noise. Castiel whips his head around, crouching down for an attack, when he realizes the hissing came from his own lips. The discomfort now has led to a dull ache in his lower extremeties, his feet, and he finds himself jumping from foot to foot. The snow causes him serious unease and he is now making long strides towards the house surrounded by this mess of vehicles.

After three abrupt raps on the door, a miserable Castiel finds himself face to face with the man he's been sent here for. His short hair is a dirty brown color, sticking up slightly in the front, and he has an expression in his eyes that the angel hasn't a word for. If he had known it, it would be called surprise.

"Do you even know what time it is?" are Dean Winchester's first words to him.

"God does not measure his missions by time."

The twenty four year old slaps a hand to his forehead and says, "Oh that's right! The fanatics always come out during the Holiday season. Maybe I should get Bobby and we could sit around and read stories from the Bible."

"I assure you that it is not my duty to converse the scripture with you," Castiel responds gravely. His blue eyes bore into Dean's green ones, and Dean swears that the man doesn't even blink. He only stands there letting the gauche silence extend between them until it becomes unbearable.

"O-o-okay-" Dean's eyes flicker down to Castiel's bare feet "-apparently socks and shoes are overrated where you're from."

"I did not deem it necessary to put anything on my feet."

"And how is that working out for you?" drawls Dean, a smirk playing on his lips.

"Perhaps I was wrong because this is very uncomfortable." A pause as he allows his Grace to flow through his body, warming him, even his toes. "Is it not customary to invite guests in?"

"Yeah, usually," agrees Dean, "when there's actual guests. You're just some random dude who showed up here at one thirty four in the morning. Did your car break down or what? Do you need to use the phone?"

"I do not need a car to travel long distances."

"So I assume you just zap yourself from place to place?"

"Zap?" Castiel's head cocks to the side in confusion. "No, use my powers to teleport."

"Beam me up Scotty," Dean mutters.

"I am not Scotty."

"Great, he's completely serious," murmurs Dean to himself under his breath. He leans against the doorframe and says, "Tell ya what . . . " He leaves his sentence open for Castiel to barge in at at any time he pleases to introduce himself, but the angel merely stands, staring at Dean, waiting for him to finish. "What's your name?"

"I am the angel Castiel."

"Um, right. Angel. Got it. Tell you what, Cas, I'll let you use the phone and that's it. Someone can pick you up or something."

"I'm telling you, I do not require transport," Castiel says with more force in his tone. "I am here to discuss something of the utmost importance with you, Dean Winchester."

"Wait, wait. How do you know my name?"

"I know a lot of things about you, Dean. I'm an angel and therefore know-"

"Okay, now I'm not even letting you in the house to use the phone. Just go. Leave." Dean goes to shut the door but Castiel sticks his arm in there, successfully keeping it open. "You are two seconds away from being loaded full of buckshot."

"If you would only listen to what I have to say-"

"Yeah, I'm not too eager to listen to crazy people talk. Why don't you talk to a nice psychiatrist who will give you these little candy-shaped pills that'll make aaall of your problems go away?"

"I'm not searching for anyone but you, Dean. It is vital that I help you and-"

"I don't need some stranger to help me! Now go!"

Castiel can tell this is going to get him nowhere. Dean Winchester is not only stubborn, but cynical. A cynicist always looks for a coffin when he smells flowers, Castiel recalls, and Dean seems like the type to do so.

Removing his arm and letting the door slam in his face he says tersely, "I shall return later."

Through the door he can hear Dean reply, "I'll have my gun ready."

Castiel frowns. This has not gone as he anticipated. Why are people so unwilling to hear the truth? It's hard to understand the nature of humans.

Alas, he will try again tomorrow, despite this threat of a gun.