God's brother brings a message from their father...

Samuel and Dean were arguing in the front seat. Castiel followed the heated conversation not out of curiosity as the brothers constantly argued about trivial matters, but out of boredom. God, of course, had tuned it out within moments of its sudden occurrence, and instead focused on the hum of the vehicle beneath her and the view of trees racing past the pane of glass to her immediate left.

She had tuned out all of the noise in order to allow her mind to wander. Sadly, her mind wandered in a direction she had hoped it would forget about; she thought about her approaching death. She had weeks, now. Only weeks. She'd prayed, but to whom could she really pray to? Her father would not listen, and all other beings on Earth prayed to either her or her angels. She was left to begin the countdown. She felt her strength leaving her body, disappearing increasingly quickly as one day became another. Part of her just wanted it to end. Of course –

"What the-?"

The car came to a sudden stop, the rubber tires squealing on the pavement of the two-lane road. God and Castiel jerked forward in their seats, their eyes flying to look past Samuel and Dean's shoulders and out the front window.

God's heart constricted as the thing that had stopped the vehicle came into vision.

Within seconds, she'd thrown her door open and gotten out, strongly proceeding towards the front of the car. The three remaining soon followed, raising their heads just in time to see God come to a stop mere feet in front of the Impala, now turned slightly to the left.

"Sister…"

Three pairs of confused eyes shifted to the figure in the middle of the road. Sam and Dean had already seen it, but Castiel was only setting his eyes upon it for the first time.

It was a man. He was tall, not quite as tall as Sam, but Sam towered over everyone. His skin was pale, just as God's was, and his golden eyes contrasted with it severely. His appearance was strikingly similar to God's. However, there were differences. Where God's lips were full, this man's were thin and red, as if they were chapped. Their hair was different colors, as well. God's was dark and fell down her shoulders in tumbling curls, but this man had short, straight blond locks. He wore the same sort of tunic that God had when she'd first appeared.

"Leave," God commanded, her eyes narrowing.

The man's sharp lips curled at one corner. "Oh, sister, you are not pleased to see me?"

"I said…" she growled. "Leave."

"Sister-"

"No, Prace, I am not your sister, nor are you my brother."

Castiel watched curiously as this man named Prace stepped forward, watching carefully as he set his feet upon the pavement once more.

"This is a beautiful world you have created," he looked around, his eyes examining the trees and shrubbery. "It is a shame you had to fill it with such hateful, violent creatures."

"You are not welcome to walk among them, now go!"

"You are adopting their habits, sister," Prace teased.

God snarled, the sound echoing through her chest.

Prace sighed. "Calm your nerves, and allow me to speak the message father sent me to give."

God was silent, staring at her brother through narrowed eyes. Her tensed shoulders did not relax. Castiel, standing in the same spot beside the Impala's open door, watched with concern. If God was tense, all of humanity should be.

"Fine, do not my words to heart, but at least hear them," Prace cleared his throat. "Father wishes to extend you an invitation to return to the Fields of Glory."

"Father would never do such a thing."

"He recognizes your coming death – and though he frowns upon these…" his eyes shifted to Sam and Dean. "Though he frowns upon these monstrosities, he does not wish one of his most talented children to die alone."

"Hey!" Dean shouted, obviously offended.

Prace's hand rose to him, and Dean's eyes bulged out of his skull. His hands flew to his neck. He started scratching and coughing.

"Prace, enough!"

All eyes were suddenly back on God, who stood directly in front of her brother. Her hands knotted in his tunic, and she easily pulled him down to her height. Prace seemed stunned, and stared at her with disbelief in his eyes.

"These are my children, and they will not allow me to die alone," God growled, her fists clenching even tighter on the white cloth. "Now leave, before I destroy your body and skin your soul."

Prace reached up to grab his sister's wrists. "Father will not be pleased."

"Father is never pleased."

And then Prace disappeared, the only sign that he had ever been there being the skid marks on the road. Castiel hurried to God's side. He did not reach out and try to touch her to offer comfort, but knew that simply being by her side would aid her greatly. He was pleased when she reached out and gripped the sleeve of his overcoat tightly.

"Is Dean alright?" she asked in a shaky whisper.

Castiel glanced over his shoulder. Dean was leaning against the hood of the Impala, rubbing his neck. He nodded at Castiel, who then turned back to God. "He is alright."

She nodded, and then sighed. "Good…" She smiled up at him weakly. "Let us leave; I am in desperate need of sleep."

Castiel turned to Dean once more. "We will meet you at the motel in town," he uttered loud enough for Dean to hear over the expanse. Dean nodded in agreement, and then God and Castiel disappeared from view.