Dean and God discuss her behavior over coffee...

Though he would never admit it, Dean was worried. For the past several days, God had been quiet. He was so used to her asking questions, or making really weird statements about life, but she'd been relatively silent. He'd go so far as to say she was acting almost as if she were soulless. He'd also seen Castiel glance at her with a surprising amount of emotion on his face. However, that emotion was not one Dean was hoping to see.

Castiel and Sam had left earlier that morning. Dean, who had been shot the day before, had complained when both of them had told him to stay and babysit God. She hadn't even looked up from the table that she'd been sitting at.

So, Dean stood, awkwardly watching God stare with a vacant look in her eyes.

"You, like, um… want some coffee, or something?" Dean asked, clearing his throat.

God blinked slowly, and then shifted to stare at him. "What is coffee?"

Dean was surprised (and a bit freaked out; that was creepy move, even for God). He'd figured that Sam would've introduced her to the drink he'd never particularly enjoyed unless it had been sweetened with whiskey.

"Oh, um, well, it's this," he mumbled as he crossed the small, dirty kitchen of the motel room and grabbed the black handle of the coffee pot. He turned and grabbed a mug that was sitting in the sink, pouring a generous amount of the dark liquid into it before handing it to God.

Tentatively, she grabbed the handle of the mug and watched the liquid swirl. After examining the drink for a few moments, she slowly raised it to her lips and took a gulp. It was warm as it tumbled down her throat, leaving behind a bitter aftertaste. She felt the warmth hit her stomach, and stared at the cup with a blank face.

"So…?" Dean asked, tucking his hands in his pockets.

God raised the mug and took another large gulp, wiping her lips on the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

"I believe coffee and pie would go well together."

Dean allowed himself a small smile, and went to sit in the empty chair across from her. For a moment, God had seemed like her old self.

"You're God, and it's probably not smart for me to ask, but when have I ever given a damn about what's smart?" Dean started, folding his arms on the table and leaning forward, watching as God downed the last of her coffee. "Are you okay? I mean, you've been kinda weird lately."

God stared at him for a moment, and then shifted to gaze into her empty cup. "No, Dean, I am not okay…"

For the second time in the last five minutes, Dean was shocked. He'd expected her to say she was fine, and then he would argue and eventually get the truth out of her… Oh, he was watching way too much TV.

For several moments, he waited for her to continue, but she never did. She simply stared into her empty mug, her eyes dark and heavily lidded.

"Well, what's wrong, then?" Dean asked, a bit of frustration showing in his voice.

God stared into her mug a moment more, and then raised her head.

"May I have more coffee?" she asked, a small smile on her face as she held the mug out to him with both of her small hands.

Dean stared into her eyes, contemplating whether or not to continue questioning her. Something in her golden eyes told him not to - screamed at him to stop, because it caused her too much pain to even think about the knowledge he sought. That was what stopped him.

"Yeah, sure."