'So there's nothing?' Dean growled. Castiel sighed, leaning against the warped sideboard in the kitchen where they'd moved into temporarily. Sam and Gabriel were there as well, while Garth kept watch outside the house and Junior watched over Faith in the bathroom.

'That's not quite what I meant. I think I'm correct that it's not human nutrition, it's something else, but I think the best person to answer for sure what she needs is-'

'God.' Dean interrupted. Castiel nodded. 'But she's a nephilim, she can't get into Heaven. So can you please talk to him?'

Castiel disappeared in front of their eyes, and Dean slumped into a kitchen chair beside Gabriel, who offered him a candy bar.

'He won't let her die, Dean,' Sam said gently. 'She carries the answer for the angels, that's got to be important right?'

'Yeah, well, God's a dick. It's probably some stupid symbol, like of course our kid can't survive having an angel baby, she shouldn't be here in the first place and angels can save their damn selves.'

'Hi, archangel in the room,' Gabriel pointed out. 'Maybe Dean, the problem is you. Maybe Faith can sense the doubt and lack of trust you have in God and that's not good for the baby?'

Dean levelled his dirtiest glare at Gabriel.

'I'm not above kicking your ass,' he promised. Gabriel shrugged.

'Say what you want there, Deano, but whenever we've had a tete-a-tete, it's never my ass that gets it. I'm sure Cas would say the same these days.'

Dean narrowed his eyes further, standing up as though he would try to attack Gabriel, when Castiel flashed back, right in between them, his focus entirely on Dean.

'He wants to talk with you.'

And before Dean could protest, or Sam could interfere, he grabbed Dean's hand and flashed back out.

Dean found himself beside Castiel, in an overgrown garden, flowers and shrubs in abundance everywhere, a veil of wisteria hanging over them and thick grass running a path underneath their feet. A short distance away there was a familiar small building, though Dean couldn't place where it was right then.

'Welcome to Heaven, Dean. Again. And that's God's house.'

'I was expecting a palace,' Dean admitted.

'No you weren't. You see what you're expecting. You know who He is, and this is where he's familiar to you.'

Dean looked at his lover, confusion written all over his face, and Castiel smiled weakly.

'I don't see it entirely the way you do, Dean, but I can see how you see it. He's expecting us. Come on.'

Dean still felt confused, but let Castiel lead him into the small, two-storey house. The hallway brought strong reminders forth, but Dean still didn't understand where they were, until they reached the study, where God was hunched up over a laptop, wearing a worn knitted cardigan and birkenstocks under his frayed jeans. Castiel's cryptic message made sense now.

'Chuck?'

'You would still call me that. I go by many names, Dean.'

'But you're a prophet.'

Chuck turned around and smiled at Dean over his wire-framed glasses.

'I guess you could say I'm the greatest prophet of them all. You know, I had great hopes for you both. I mean, I tried to downplay the homoerotic subtext a little but it just kept coming back and biting me in the ass. Whiskey?'

Chuck gestured over to the table, where a bottle and three glasses appeared out of nowhere. Dean eyed it, but remained standing in the doorway.

'Come on, Dean, I know you like it. We're old friends. Relax.'

Castiel looked at Dean hesitantly, before walking over and pouring three drinks, giving one to Chuck, and another to Dean, then sitting in an armchair and nursing his own.

'So, you wanted to talk about what's wrong with Faith, I take it?' Chuck asked over the rim of his glass.

'Are you really okay with her?' Dean growled. Chuck sighed, and sat back in his office chair.

'Not really, no. I was hopeful for your relationship, but I never foresaw Cas in a female vessel. That was something I wasn't counting on. But I guess that's what happens when you have an angel with free will,' Chuck glanced at Castiel, who remained staring at the amber liquid in his tumbler. 'But it's happened now and I'm willing to give her the benefit of the doubt.'

'Did you write it so that she'd be taken from us so young?' Dean demanded. Chuck put his glass down, and sat forward.

'Dean, you're a tough character to work with. You can't demand conflicting things. You could never raise her fully and still protect her from the world she was born into. I just tried to weigh up which one meant more to you. I didn't count on her being so headstrong and independent. She really is your kid.'

'Don't talk like that. You sound like Metatron with his magic stupid typewriter.' Dean snarked. Chuck smiled vacantly.

'If it makes you feel better, I think Metatron's a tool as well. He's going to remain in Heaven's jail even after Faith has her baby.'

'If she survives her morning sickness.' Dean growled. Chuck shrugged.

'It's not morning sickness. You can't heal her.'

'Then what is it?' Dean demanded, stepping closer to Chuck, who instead of cowering as he would have done on earth, stood up and towered over Dean instead.

'Look at the real facts, Dean. She spent most of her adolescence creating her own family in Gabriel and Dexter. She grew up only knowing of you both as distant connections. She invested a lot in one person, and that person has let her down. And she still cares, Dean, whatever you might think of him. You should recognise it better, since you spent so much time in your own filth waiting for Cas in the same way.'

Dean blinked, and then shot a look at Castiel, who was still staring into his glass.

'She's heartbroken, Dean. And she's terrified of what's going on with the baby, and with him, and your mission, and your recent attack. You know, it pains me to handhold like this.'

'So what do I do?'

Chuck sighed, and slumped into his office chair again.

'Do what you've been praying fifteen years for. Be a father. Castiel?'

Castiel stood, placing the full glass on the table and taking Dean's hand again he led him out of the house. Dean spluttered with indignation as the front door shut and they found themselves back in the kitchen of the house they'd been hiding in.

'Well, you were a great help there, thanks Cas,' Dean finally snapped. Sam and Gabriel looked between them, their own conversation obviously interrupted.

'I wasn't allowed to speak, Dean.'

'Are you kidding me? You're the angel with free will! He said it himself! So you should have told him to shove it-'

'Dean, stop. He's told you what you need to do now. Compromising my deal with Father is not going to help you.'

'He told me what to do? He barely told me anything, Cas!'

'You really spoke to God?' Sam interrupted, his voice awed. Dean rolled his eyes.

'Yeah, and it turns out, not for the first time. You've talked to him before yourself.' Dean grabbed a beer out of the burnt out fridge. 'I'm going to talk to Faith.'

He left the others in the kitchen and headed up the stairs, hearing two voices speaking quietly down the hallway. He slowed down and listened carefully.

'… that a silver bullet?'

'Yeah, my whole family wears them. It's part of our church.'

'Weird church.'

'I think we're all hoping that being devout will override the fact we're werewolves.'

'Doesn't it hurt?'

'All the time. But it's a good reminder of the good we want to do and the burden we have to bear.'

There was silence for a moment, before Faith spoke again, her voice stronger than it had been all week.

'But isn't that something you carry inside all the time? That's what my dad does.'

'I was born into this life, Faith. It's something I am, not something I became. It's fate.'

'You can override fate.' Faith declared. Dean could hear Junior laughing, the sound dying out quickly.

'Can you override yours? Looks like whatever you do, you're having this baby.'

'Having the baby is the easy part,' she answered. Dean finally pushed the door open, and found Junior and Faith sitting on the edge of the bathtub. Faith looked a little guilty, like she expected Dean to yell at her for not being curled up on the bathroom floor.

'You're feeling better?' Dean asked.

'Yeah.'

'Good. We can get going again soon. Did you want something to eat?'

She nodded slowly.

'Good, I'll make something. Your mom's still here, by the way.'

'Okay, I'll come see her. Junior?'

'See you later, Faith,' Junior nodded, avoiding Dean's eye. Faith moved off the bathtub, and followed Dean down the stairs gingerly, as though she was expecting him to start yelling at any moment. Instead, at the bottom of the stairs, he wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her head gently.

'It'll get easier, Faith. Trust me.'

'Thanks, Dad.'

'It's okay. Love you.'

'Love you too, Dad.'

He let go and walked back into the kitchen, where only Sam and Castiel remained.

'Where's Gabriel?' Dean asked, looking through their supplies for something to eat.

'He's keeping watch on the house. And we have to get going again. We've removed Cassidy, and met Flora. We need to go back and get Flora, before she becomes too much of a liability. She's probably made a lot of connections already, she was very intelligent.' Castiel answered

'And powerful. I think we should try one of the others.' Sam spoke up. Castiel shot a quick look at Faith, before turning his attention back to Sam.

'Max, then. We'll look for Max.'

'Don't go yet!' Faith complained, and rushed over to Castiel, grabbing him and holding him tightly.

'I'm sorry, Faith. I'm doing this for you, and it must be done.' He hugged her hard, and they stood together for a long moment, before he detangled himself, and went to stand with Sam. 'We'll see each other soon.'

And they disappeared, leaving Faith to curl up in a ball on the floor, crying. Dean left the food alone, and strode over to her, sinking down and pulling her onto his lap, holding her once more as her body shook with sobs.

'I'm sick of being left, Dad.' She sniffed.

'I know Princess, I know. It won't be for much longer, I swear.'

He hoped he was right.