A/N: There's a bit of smut in this chapter. I always feel a duty to warn about that.

The chapter title is a Creedence Clearwater Revival (CCR) song from the album Willy and the Poor Boys (1969). Thanks to my beta isugirl.

Also, since I probably won't get another chapter out before the 31st, I would like to make a public service announcement. I normally say 'live and let live', but in this instance I can't just stand idly by. So, please, don't be the a-hole that gives out apples, or boxes of raisins, or crap like that on Halloween. Nobody's impressed by that and you're wasting your time and money. If you really don't feel you can give out candy, then turn off the porch light. That's all you have to do. Otherwise, you're only inviting flaming bags of poo or angry faery trolls.

XXXXXXXXXX

Chapter 19 - Fortunate Son

Giles removed his glasses and rubbed at the bridge of his nose. He was searching for a way to tactfully state his concerns regarding Dean's extraordinary revelation. The fact that Bobby was watching him closely, and appeared to be daring him to say the wrong thing, only made the task more difficult. However, oddly enough, the object of their discussion seemed much more interested in trading in his beer for a glass of scotch.

"Dean," he began hesitantly. "Forgive me, but I don't…" He paused, deciding he didn't like that particular phrasing. "You see, honestly I –"

"Don't see why a foul mouthed hunter with a GED and a criminal record is some big shot angel's most wanted meatsuit?" Dean finished for him, then shrugged nonchalantly and took a drink from his newly poured glass.

"Giles!" Buffy exclaimed angrily. "I can't believe you! That's not very nice." She pursed her lips and jabbed her finger at him for emphasis.

"Buffy, I didn't say that," Giles said defensively as he took a cautious glance in the direction of the older hunter. Bobby smirked at him and raised his glass to Buffy. Thankfully, he seemed content not to start throwing punches just yet. But Giles was convinced that it would only take a few more of the wrong words being placed in his mouth for him to get there. "I was merely…," he trailed off before Dean stepped in to save him.

"Dude, it's okay. I get it. I'm not rockin' the halo. I'm aware," he stated as he held his arms out to his sides. "Truth is, I don't know why Michael picked me. It's got something to do with having the right blood. Angels can't possess just any poor schmuck," he explained. "You have to be lucky enough to be the right match and some matches are better than others. That's all I can tell you. Besides, it ain't like winning the lottery. Trust me, you don't wanna get on an angel's short list."

Willow's face fell as she came to an unpleasant revelation. "So that angel guy you know… When we look at him, that's not really him we're seeing? He's actually possessing somebody? A 'person' somebody?"

"Yeah," Sam confirmed solemnly. "You're looking at a regular Joe named Jimmy Novak. At least I guess he's still in there somewhere."

"Poor bastard," Dean remarked. "If he is aware of anything, I'm sure he's kickin' his own ass right now for saying 'yes'."

"That's really sad," Willow observed with a frown.

"It's a bitch," Dean agreed. "Which is why I told Michael to shove it up his ass. I'm nobody's meat puppet."

"So, you can do that then?" Giles asked, sounding rather astonished. "You can refuse them entry?"

"They ain't like demons," Bobby replied. "They gotta get consent. Unfortunately, they don't take 'no' too gracefully."

Xander raised his hand, but quickly took it down. He decided it made him look way too much like a kid in school. "I've never been church-guy," he admitted as he turned to Dean. "But I thought angels were supposed to be the good guys. Sounds like you're saying 'not so much'."

"Mostly just giant dicks," Dean confirmed. "A lot of 'em think we're just a bunch of hairless monkeys and the rest want to see us all dead. They're not sitting on our shoulder 'guiding the way' if that's what you think. Cas is the only one I trust."

Dean noted that Sam and Bobby traded glances when he mentioned Cas, but Bobby spoke up before he had a chance to question them. That was fine, because Dean decided that was a conversation best kept 'in the family'.

"I think that's enough seminary school," Bobby announced gruffly. "We know what we need to do and who needs to do it. Now we just gotta find a way to get close enough to Eve to pull it off."

"I need another drink," Giles remarked tiredly as he regarded the empty crystal decanter in front him.

"Here," Bobby said as he pulled out his flask and poured some of its contents into Giles' glass. "Just take it slow. I don't want ya to shock your delicate system."

"Thank you," Giles said as he tasted the whiskey the hunter had just poured for him. He had to struggle not to make a face. It was the most god-awful concoction he'd ever tasted, but on a positive note, it obviously held an unusually high concentration of alcohol. That was the most important thing at the moment.

Buffy frowned at her Watcher. "I'm not sure this is the best time for more booze," she remarked sourly before giving a pointed glance to the glass in front of Dean.

"Never been a better time," Bobby disagreed. "Dean's at bat again. I'm sure he wants to celebrate."

"Hell yeah," Dean said. He raised his glass and uttered a sarcastic "Cheers" before taking another swallow.

Bobby stretched his arm across the table and held his flask toward Buffy. "Here girl, maybe you should just give in and join the party. It'll probably be a long night."

Before Buffy could politely decline, Sam reached out and roughly knocked Bobby's arm out of the way. The older man fumbled as he tried to keep a grip on the flask. Once he had it secured, he turned an angry scowl on Sam.

"Dammit kid. What the hell's gotten into you?" he questioned irritably.

Buffy regarded Dean's brother steadily. She was also very interested to hear what Sam had to say for himself.

"I uh…" Sam said as the color drained from his face. He quickly averted his gaze from Buffy's. "Sorry Bobby. Buffy's just not a drinker. I forgot you wouldn't know about that is all," he added with a sheepish shrug.

Bobby narrowed his eyes at the younger Winchester. He was obviously confused by Sam's actions. "I think maybe you've had a little too much," he grumbled. "You need to mind your manners."

"Sorry Bobby," Sam mumbled.

Buffy was grateful that Dean appeared lost in his own thoughts and didn't seem to notice anything strange about the conversation. Faith, on the other hand, was very studiously not looking in her direction. Also, the pained expression that briefly crossed Sam's features told her that Faith had definitely kicked him under the table. If she'd been sitting closer, Buffy would've kicked her. She couldn't believe the girl wasn't able to keep her big mouth shut for more than a few hours. Maybe she hadn't specifically told her not to tell Sam, but that should've been pretty damn obvious. She was going to bludgeon her to death.

"Okay, that's enough fun for me," Buffy announced as she smacked both hands on the tabletop, causing all eyes to turn toward her expectantly. "It's almost three in the morning and I'm going to bed. We can make a game plan tomorrow. Unless everybody thinks we should try to make a drunken raid on Mother Superior," she added sarcastically.

Dean grinned and held up the 'precious relic/broken piece of antler' he'd been playing with. "Why not? All I have to do is stick her with my bone. I can do that blind drunk," he said with a suggestive waggle of his brows.

Xander pointed at Dean and let out the beginnings of chuckle (because he appreciated crude humor as much as the next un-evolved man), but the look on Buffy's face almost caused him to swallow his tongue. The Slayer was not amused. Not even a little bit. He quickly put on a straight face.

"You're cut off," Buffy said sharply as she swiped the glass from in front of Dean.

"The hell?" he asked incredulously as he tried his best to avoid eye contact with Bobby (the old man would love to bust his balls for something like this). "I haven't even finished the one glass," he said in his defense. "I was just joking."

"Not funny," she replied flatly.

Willow quickly pushed her chair back and stood up. "I think Buffy's right," she announced a little too loudly. "I'm wiped. I need to take some time to absorb the 'angels are a bunch of unfluffy, prejudiced, people-possessors' bombshell. I mean, I never really thought about them very much before, but now I'm going to have to not think about them in an entirely different way."

"Well said," Xander agreed with a nod.

"Yes," Giles said as he finished off his drink in one swallow and somehow managed not to choke on it. "My world view has been skewed enough for one night. Maybe I'll wakeup to find that this was all an alcohol induced hallucination."

When the Council crowd began to filter out of the library, Dean caught up with Buffy in the hall.

"You okay?" he asked her as he put a hand on her elbow and smiled uncertainly. "I was just messin' around."

"I know," she sighed. "I'm just tired. Please come to bed," she said as she gazed up at him with a somber expression on her face.

"I will," he promised as he pressed a quick kiss against her lips. "I just need a few minutes to catch up with Sam and Bobby. Okay?"

"Okay, but don't take too long."

A line formed between Dean's eyes as he watched Buffy walk up the hall. She usually didn't allow herself to take his off-color remarks very seriously. If she did, he'd stay in trouble. Of course, she was probably really freaked about the 'Michael Sword' crap. It had certainly shocked the living hell out of him. He'd love to just go to bed and try to forget about it for a little while, but he needed to get to the bottom of Sam and Bobby's 'meaningful glances'.

He returned to the library to see the pair still sitting in their previous positions. Faith was there as well, stationed beside Sam with her boots propped up on the table.

"Faith, do you mind givin' me a few minutes with these two?" Dean asked.

The Slayer slid her feet off the table and hopped fluidly to her feet. "Sure thing," she shrugged. "I guess baby bro has been out of your clutches for a few days. Just don't take too long," she added with a wink and playful nudge to Sam's shoulder. "I might hafta start without ya."

"You think you can handle all that Sammy?" Dean asked with a grin once Faith had left the room. Predictably, his brother just rolled his eyes and shook his head at Dean disapprovingly, but he couldn't help but notice that Sam was trying to hide smile. The kid wasn't as innocent as he looked.

Bobby let out a chuckle, but seemed to be laughing at his own thoughts more than at the exchange between the two brothers.

"I don't think Rupert likes the idea of our fates bein' tied to some 'foul mouthed hunter'," he remarked with a satisfied smirk.

Dean shrugged and rubbed at his forehead. "The foul mouthed hunter ain't exactly thrilled himself."

"It's still damn poetic if you ask me," Bobby continued. "Those Watchers always were a bunch of stuck-up old buzzards."

"He's not so bad," Dean disagreed. "Dude's just British. I don't think he can help it. Besides, he does pay me pretty damn good and under the table too," he emphasized with a raised eyebrow. "Buffy trusts him, that's good enough for me."

Bobby smiled at Dean and took another drink. "Speakin' of pretty little Buffy, why aren't you off snuggled up with her instead of sittin' in here with an ugly old drunk and your goofy little brother?"

Dean looked at the pair seriously for moment before shaking his head at them. He was pissed that he even had to have this conversation. It was friggin ridiculous.

"Because, I'd like to know what the hell you two are thinking about Cas?" he asked gruffly. "I saw your little stolen glance. Don't try to bullshit me."

Bobby looked over at Sam and gestured toward Dean with his glass. "See? That's exactly why I dreaded bringin' this up with him."

"Bringing what up?" Dean asked tightly. He knew he wasn't going to like this, especially since Sam was in the process of putting on his most sincere 'puppy dog face'.

"Dean," Sam began evenly. "It's just that me and Bobby can't help but be a little concerned about the 'Crowley's not dead' news bulletin. We don't see how Cas could make a mistake like that. That's all we're saying. Nobody's accusing him of anything. We just don't understand. Okay?"

"Oh I get it," Dean said as he gestured angrily with his hands. "You two are suddenly perfect I guess? Neither one of you have ever made a mistake. Must be real freakin' nice."

"Watch your tone," Bobby snapped. "You know better than that. Cas is an angel and, King of Hell or not, Crowley's just a piss ant demon. Cas should be able to roast him with a thought and you know it. This ain't Lucifer we're talkin' about."

Dean clenched his fists and shook his head in disbelief. "Come on Bobby, this is Cas! I can't believe you're talking like that. Don't either of you have a shred of gratitude for the things he's done for us? He's literally been blown apart twice trying to save our sorry asses. We owe him the benefit of the doubt."

"And he has it," Sam stressed. "We're just concerned is all. You have to admit the news that Crowley might not be ashes kinda freaked you out a little."

"Yeah," Dean admitted. "It wasn't the best thing I've ever heard, but even if he is still kickin', you two are wrong about Cas having anything to do with it," he emphasized strongly. "He might be Mister Smitey, but he's still naïve as hell. You know that. Dude's never even been laid for God's sake! He actually looks for plot in a porno. Cut the guy some slack."

"I hope you're right," Bobby remarked tiredly. "Trust me. I do. I don't wanna believe Cas is capable of screwin' us over like that, but somethin' ain't right. Meg came here for a reason."

Dean nodded. "Yeah, she did. She's a bitch, Bobby. That's pretty much always her reason. So she's the one you should be pointin' fingers at. You know what?" he asked as he threw up his hands in frustration. "Never mind. This is the stupidest Goddamned conversation I've ever had. I'm going to bed."

XXXXXXXXXX

Even though he was irritated as hell, Dean tried to open the door to Buffy's office as quietly as possible. He didn't want to wake her up if she was already asleep because she had looked really tired earlier. As the door swung open, he noticed that the desk lamp was on and sitting on the floor beside the 'bed', which was actually two unzipped sleeping bags (one to lie on and one to use as a blanket). Buffy was awake and had her head and shoulders propped up against the pillows Dean had snagged from home. She had the sleeping bag pulled up over her breasts, but her shoulders were bare, leading Dean to suspect that everything else was too. He felt the tension in his shoulders begin to relax a little. Her presence usually did that for him.

"Thought you were tired?" he asked with a smile and raised eyebrows.

"I was," she said. "I was completely tired of musty old books and stupid angels."

Dean pushed back a few of the picture frames sitting on the edge of Buffy's desk so that he could sit down and unlace his boots. "Yeah, me too," he said tightly.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked as she drew her brows together. "I mean, aside from our impending doom and the vessel thing, of course," she added with a tiny bit of wry humor in her tone.

Dean kicked his boots off and stood back up to begin unbuttoning his shirt. "It's just Sam and Bobby," he replied as he roughly tugged at his clothes. "They're pissin' me off."

Buffy's eyes got wide as saucers and her mouth fell open. Surely Sam hadn't been running his mouth about what Faith had told him.

"Why?" she asked cautiously.

"It's ridiculous," Dean replied irritably as he paused before removing his jeans to run a hand down his face. "They're accusing Cas of having something to do with the Crowley thing."

"Oh," Buffy said, sounding relieved. "What do they think he's done?" she asked curiously.

"They don't know because there's nothing to know," he stated sarcastically. "It makes no freakin sense. Why the hell would Cas wanna save Crowley? The guy's a demon and a giant douche. It's the stupidest fucking thing I've ever heard."

When Dean had finished stripping to his boxers he slid in beside Buffy. "You don't think that could be true, do you?" he asked curiously.

"I don't know," she answered honestly. When she noticed Dean's stricken expression she continued on hurriedly. "Dean, I don't know much about angels," she attempted to explain. "This is all new to me. I know I was in heaven, but I don't remember many details. So, Cas and all the rest of the winged-guys are still a big unknown for me." She put a hand on his shoulder and met his eyes. "But, I trust you and if you trust Cas, that's good enough for me."

Buffy's answer seemed to satisfy Dean. He visibly relaxed and pulled her against him.

"You're cold," he observed when he felt the chill on her skin. "Maybe you need some help getting warm?" he questioned as he swept her long hair aside and kissed the back of her neck.

Buffy turned in his embrace so that she could kiss him in return. "I was hoping you might offer to help a girl out."

Dean grinned at her. "Of course, I'm a helpful guy. It's what I do."

She smiled and gave him another deep kiss as she ran her hands over his arms and back. She didn't know if it was the pregnancy making her emotional or her Slayer senses, but she was suddenly very afraid that something bad was coming, something bad that they didn't yet fully see or understand. The feeling left her with a deep need to be close to Dean. She wanted to memorize everything about him, the feel of his skin, his smell, the way his kisses usually tasted of beer or whiskey, and the odd fact she didn't mind that at all. It was just another part of the package that made up the man she loved.

"I'm so sorry you have to deal with the Michael thing again," she said sadly as she held him tighter.

Dean pushed her away slightly so he could look her in the eyes. "Hey now, don't start that," he scolded lightly. "This ain't our last night on earth. We've both seen situations that were way more jacked than this one. Nobody's even askin' me to be an angel condom this time. I just have to –."

"Stick Eve with your bone," Buffy finished for him with a smirk.

"Nah," Dean grinned as he pressed his erection against her thigh. "I save that for you. Bitch just gets that piece of crap old fossil."

Buffy frowned. "I'm just worried about what was on the missing part of the scroll. I kinda doubt somebody just ripped it off to make a grocery list."

"Don't worry about it," Dean said as he ran his lips across her jawline and to her ear. "Cas'll be there. He can whip out his Mighty Morphin Power Smite and we won't even have to break a sweat. You just need to relax."

"Make me," she challenged.

"Got no problem doin' that," he promised as he reached between her legs to caress her. "Feels like you're already halfway there," he observed in a deep baritone that was thick with desire.

Buffy pulled him into another kiss and positioned herself beneath him. She moaned when she felt him begin to enter her, but he only did so partially before withdrawing and partially entering her again. Despite his ragged breathing and rapid heartbeat, he seemed determined to hold back his passion just enough to tease her. Buffy knew how to put a stop to that game. She wrapped her legs around his waist and pulled him deep within her, then she began clenching and unclenching her muscles around him. That trick never failed to ensure the desired response. He groaned against her throat before pulling back to deliver the first of the long, hard strokes she was seeking.

"Open your eyes," she requested softly.

She wanted to see him watching her as they made love. The experience was extremely intimate, almost painfully so, but she was desperate to feel as close to him as possible. When she looked into his eyes, she could tell that he felt the same way. Despite his bravado, she knew he was just as worried as she was, maybe even more so. Both of them needed to forget the outside world for a while and lose themselves in the each other's arms.

When Dean watched Buffy's eyes squeeze shut as she arched her back and her breath caught in her throat, he knew he couldn't hold out any longer. He started to pull away, but she wrapped her legs around him even tighter.

"Stay inside me," she whispered.

Dean was in no position to argue. He was way past the point of exercising any self-control. He pressed himself as deeply inside of her as he could before letting himself go with a shudder. The feeling was miles beyond intense and he decided he could easily get used to it.

XXXXXXXXXX

Dean wasn't quite sure how he'd suddenly ended up in a restaurant of some sort, but he was pretty sure something strange was going on. He was sitting alone in a back booth with a beer and a bowl of chips and salsa in front of him. As he looked around the half-full establishment, he was struck by a sense of familiarity. The place appeared to be a typical Mexican restaurant/cantina with piñatas hanging from the ceiling and desert-themed paintings on the walls, but he had a feeling he'd been there before. When he looked over at the bar and noticed a giant Latino dude in a cowboy hat - who he was pretty sure he'd last seen wielding a primed twelve gauge - he immediately realized where he was. This was the place where he'd had what you could call his first 'date' with Buffy. This was a dream. Damn, he was such a sap.

As he swung his head back around he noticed that he was no longer alone in the booth. Sitting in front of him with a glass of whiskey and a shot of tequila was a skinny, bearded man, who looked like he hadn't had a good night's sleep since sometime last century.

"Chuck?" Dean asked in a bewildered tone. "What the hell, dude?"

The man waved a hand in greeting before downing his shot of tequila. "Hi Dean," he said through the grimace on his face as he sucked on a slice of lime.

"Hi Chuck," Dean echoed back to him. "What the hell are you doin' in my dream?"

"It's not really your dream," he replied in a tired voice. "Well it is, but it's mine too. Guess you could say it's a blended reality."

Dean crinkled his brow and gazed back at Chuck in confusion. Then something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. Across the room he spotted an extremely terrifying looking dominatrix. The black-haired and very muscular woman was decked out in shiny red leather and had to be six-feet tall, even without the stiletto heels she was wearing. She also had the most ginormous pair of knockers Dean had ever seen. There was no way those things were real. If all that wasn't freaky enough, she was also holding a cat-o-nine-tails in one hand and a dog chain in the other. The chain was attached to a much smaller 'person' wearing a full-body, black leather, gimp costume. What the fuck?

Chuck cleared his throat self-consciously in order to bring Dean's focus back to him. "Uh… that's my part of the reality," he admitted sheepishly.

"No shit," Dean stated. "Dude, that's messed up."

"Never said I didn't have issues," Chuck remarked with a shrug. "You try being me for a while and see if you don't get a little twisted."

"What is up with you?" Dean asked as he observed the smaller man more closely. He looked awful. His eyes were hollowed out and his skin was almost yellow. "Do you know you look like one of the Simpsons?" he asked.

"What? You mean the yellow skin?" he asked a bit sarcastically as he pointed to his face. "It's called jaundice, Dean. This is what happens when you drink your breakfast every day."

Dean shook his head. "Man, maybe you should consider switching to Fruit Loops."

Chuck sighed deeply and rubbed at his eyes. "I wish I could, but things have gotten way to flippin' batshit for plain breakfast cereal. Do you have any idea what it's like to have a dream that you're supposed to have a dream where you're having a dream with you in it? Man, I'm so confused that I don't know whether I'm awake or asleep right now. I haven't used the bathroom in over a week!"

"Dude!" Dean cringed. "Too much information. I really didn't need to know that."

"Well, too bad," Chuck said with a touch of bitterness. "I'm not real worried about being delicate right now. I'm mostly just hoping you can't actually kill me in a dream."

"Why would I want to kill you?"

"Never mind. Guess you don't know yet," he said as he relaxed in his seat. "See, it's hard for me to tell what's already happened and what hasn't. My prophetic dreams have been pretty hazy ever since you guys derailed the apocalypse." When Chuck noticed Dean's guilty expression, he added, "Don't worry, it was the right thing to do. It just changed things with the visions is all. The future's not as solid as it used to be. There's a lot more freewill these days."

"Okay," Dean remarked uncertainly. "So what don't I know? What makes you think I'm gonna come gunning for you?"

Chuck uttered a resigned sigh. "I'm publishing again," he said hesitantly.

"You're what?" Dean thundered. "Dude, I thought we'd established that your book tour days were over. You're right, I am gonna kill your ass."

Chuck winced at the angry expression on Dean's face. "I didn't have much choice," he defended. "The visions stopped for about a year after Lucifer got put back in his cage, but then they started up again. I couldn't exactly keep my job at Best Buy after I became drunken vision-guy again. I have to eat."

"You mean drink," Dean corrected irritably.

"Well, both I guess," he admitted. "Look Dean, I'm sorry, okay. This isn't exactly fun for me, you know."

Dean got quiet for a moment and then his eyes widened suddenly. "Oh crap," he breathed. "You're not sayin' Buffy read those books are you? That's not how she knows about…"

"No," Chuck said quickly. "As far as I know, she's never actually laid her hands on one. But she did kinda find out that way," he added reluctantly.

"Andrew," Dean said tightly. "It was that squirrely-assed, little fanboy Andrew, wasn't it?" When Chuck didn't reply, Dean took that as a 'yes'. "Perfect," he gritted out. "Just friggin perfect. Now I get to kill both of you."

"No, you won't," Chuck announced with some certainty.

"How do ya know? Did you see that too?" Dean asked as he leaned forward and tried to appear as menacing as possible.

"No," he replied, shaking his head. "But I know you won't actually kill us. You don't have it in you to kill an innocent man for no good reason…. Though I wouldn't put it past you to beat our asses," he added as he backed further into his seat.

"You're damn skippy," Dean agreed. "In fact, I think it's time for me to wake up now. I know at least one of you is sleeping right down the hall. I can get one good beatdown in before breakfast."

"Sorry Dean, but we've still got some things to discuss first. In fact, if things go right - and I hope they do - you won't even remember this dream."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Dean asked suspiciously.

"It means there's something you need to know about defeating Eve. The thing that wasn't on the scroll."

"Yeah. I'm listening."

"All I can tell you is that it's your blood that's important. You'll remember that if you need to, but I'm hoping you won't have to. I'm praying someone will make the right choice."

"Come on Chuck! Don't give me that cryptic bullshit. Who the hell are you talking about? And what does my blood have to do with anything? Could you be any more vague?"

"I'm sorry, Dean," he replied. "I really am, but I'm not supposed to tell you much. That's how these things work."

"Great. Just fucking great. Thanks a lot. I'm sure you've helped me out a lot," Dean said sarcastically.

Chuck sighed. "Okay, fine. I'm not supposed to do this, but I guess I can tell you one thing." He paused in uncertainty before continuing. "Cas is being tested. In fact, right now the guy's struggling pretty damn hard," he said sadly. "I hope he'll make the right call, but, even if he does, I'm afraid that might not matter much. He's in over his head, Dean. There are things that he thinks are under his control that are way the fuck out-of-control. It's worse than Congress. You don't even want to know how screwed it is."

"Tested?" Dean practically yelled, although he noticed none of the other patrons seemed to take note of it. Apparently they were just figments of his imagination. "What the hell do you mean 'he's being tested'?" he pressed. "Who's testing him?"

"Who do you think?" Chuck asked simply.

"You've got to be kidding me," he replied as he gripped the edge of the table tightly. "God is testing Cas? God? Dude hasn't given a shit about any of us for only he knows how long, and now he's coming out of retirement to give Cas his SATs? Are you shitting me?"

"You're wrong, Dean. He does care. He just doesn't think he should have to hold everybody's hand every second of the day. Most things are pretty simple actually. He shouldn't have to be so involved."

Dean shook his head angrily. "You mean simple little things like the friggin apocalypse? Is that what we're talking about? Seriously? Give me a break. That's bullshit!"

Chuck stared back silently for a few moments and Dean was almost sure he saw some anger in his gaze. That was a first.

"Dean, he was there during the apocalypse," Chuck stressed with strained patience. "He intervened plenty of times and you know that. He even saved your other brother from the pit."

Dean looked shocked by this. "You're saying he brought Adam back?" he asked cautiously.

"Not back to life, but his soul is in heaven now. It's not stuck in the cage with Michael and Lucifer. That's something, isn't it? Cas doesn't know," he added before Dean could ask. "You could say Adam's in the witness protection program. God doesn't want Raphael getting any ideas about turning him into a vessel again."

"That's good I guess," Dean admitted grudgingly. "But what's going on with Cas? Please tell me this doesn't have anything to do with Crowley?"

"I can't tell you that," Chuck said firmly. "You'll find out if you need to. And like I said, hopefully you won't ever need to. Trust me, you'll have enough on your plate without worrying about that crap," he added with a grin.

"And what's that supposed to mean?"

"Sorry Dean. That's all I'm saying. Just know that if things do get out of control, there will be a way to fix it. You won't like it though. It'll require you to have some faith."