Chapter One.
Into The Mystic.
"Hark, now hear the sailors cry.
Smell the sea and feel the sky.
Let your soul and spirit fly into the mystic."
-Into The Mystic by Van Morrison.
God frowned quickly at the disheartened sight: Charlotte at the edge of her bed rocking Marie to sleep as a single tear strolled down her once dimpled cheek. She was alone; all the while Dean kept himself at a distance after a long day at work he'd brought himself to yet another bar to down yet another shot. Dean, abandoning all he'd been given for the alcohol in his hand. God gritted his teeth and sighed folding his hands together, his sorrowful chocolate eyes peered at Castiel and He gave him an affirmative nod. Castiel immediately disappeared from God's side and sent himself off to conduct the mission, silently and as unnoticed as possible.
If free will kept God from interfering in their lives as it were, He would turn back the clocks and use His supernatural capabilities to show Dean what a blessing he'd been given. How his life wasn't to be trifled with, how his day-to-day decisions did not only hinder himself but everyone around him, including James, even if Dean did not care so much about her. He had, after all, made several promises to Sam and in that one moment he was breaking all of them (Watch out for James, take care of her. Take care of Charlotte and Marie, "Go live some happy apple pie life, Dean. Promise me!").
Charlotte suddenly found herself falling into a soft sleep, Marie at her side cuddled into her. They slumbered together in a deep and somewhat comforted siesta there on the king sized bed. She could smell Dean's cologne on his pillowcase and an ache in her heart swelled. Castiel placed his hand gingerly on Charlie's head, stroking the fringe away from her eyes he took in a deep breath and gave an assenting nod as if his task had been complete on this end. Quietly he shut the door and traveled to James' room where he'd found her crying relentlessly into her pillow. So much pain, so many tears were being shed under one roof. Castiel inhaled deeply, as James wept herself to sleep, and placed his hand atop her head.
Dean looked up from the shot in his hand; he touched the cool glass to his lips then found himself placing the drink upon the bar. Suddenly he felt lightheaded as he collapsed to the floor and passed out. Castiel had a soft smirk with this one, he snapped his fingers, and for a moment the earth was still. Cas carried Dean to the truck, threw him in the back seat, grimacing at the sight of the lad. Once someone so strong, and so in love was now a dreaded mess of absolutely no emotion. Cas just couldn't have that, not with how Dean was treating his family.
"He will see." Cas nodded as he shut the door and began to drive away.
"They all will," God spoke, as if a whisper in the wind. The Grand Weaver was at work to prove (yet again), that everything happens for a reason…