They survived the day. Claire even helped him grade some tests. They went home that night without Dean even once mentioning the experience he had had at lunch. Once they were back at the apartment though, he was reminded of the need to share.

"So, uh, at lunch."

"I'm really sorry, Dean. I don't know what I was thinking. I just keep..."

Dean cut her off, "Stop. I don't care about any of that."

"You don't care that I just outed you as my dad's gay boyfriend? Really? I've effectively ruined all of your hetero chances."

"Not sure if you noticed, but I work at a college. Pretty sure you just doubled my chances of scoring if I were even remotely interested in such a thing. Which, in case I haven't made it clear, I'm not. I've squandered my chances."

She looked concerned, "Is that what this is about?" She moved closer to him. "You don't think you deserve someone? You don't think that you deserve to be happy?"

"I didn't say that. I just said that I'm not looking for anything or anyone. This my life, and I don't want anything else."

"But you do though. You feel like you squandered your chances." He scowled at her and wondered why he couldn't just keep his mouth shut around her. "What chances did you squander?"

"You know." He felt like she was just doomed to getting that same answer for everything. He didn't feel guilty though. This was Claire and she did understand. He believed that maybe she understood better than anyone what he was feeling.

"I want to hear you say it."

He pushed past her into his room and slammed the door. He hadn't told her about the light. He took a deep breath and counted to ten. Then he lingered five minutes longer, because it just didn't seem long enough yet. He opened the door and emerged into the dark living room. Claire wasn't in sight. He rounded the kitchen and stepped into the dining room. He could see that the sliding glass door was open and Claire was outside on the little metal balcony.

She was staring up at the sky, drumming at the railing as she stood there. He stepped out into the cool night and stood at her side. "I'm sorry," he said.

"Shit, Dean. I think we're doomed to just keep pissing each other off at every turn."

"You just keep saying all of the right things." He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her into a sideways hug.

"I miss him, Dean, and I just want to know that someone else missed him too. Sometimes I think that you're the only other one in the world that knows just how awful it all feels." He squeezed her tighter. "I'm sorry I push."

"Your dad was a good man."

"He was, but I was talking about Cas just then."

"I thought that you kinda resented him a little because of your dad and all."

"In the end I didn't. He and I talked almost every day. I prayed my end of the conversations and when he could he'd text back responses. I think that he cared about me a great deal."

"He did." Dean leaned over a little and pressed a small kiss to her forehead.

"It was different from what he had with you, but it still made me feel special to be cared for by someone like him. He was infinite and here I was, a teenager, and he cared enough to talk to me and listen to me."

"He always regretted taking Jimmy away from you. He didn't understand what he had done. It took him years to get it. When he did, it nearly ruined him."

"I still pray to him, ya know?"

"Why?"

She looked at him as she answered, "Because he's still the only one out there that I still have faith in."

"He can't hear us anymore."

"Do you still pray to him?"

"No."

Now Claire squeezed him back and said, "Maybe you should. It doesn't matter that he isn't around to hear you anymore. What matters sometimes is just the talking. Even if he can't hear us anymore, I think that he'd like to have us remember him a little even after all this time has passed."

"I think you're wrong. I think he'd want us to forget him and be happy." She tipped her head back and looked at him with one brow raised higher than the other. "He was an idiot though. He never seemed to get that he was a necessary part of the happiness equation."

"That idiot."

They fell silent then, but in the silence they prayed, and in the silence they felt peace.

Sam called him at the end of the week to basically harass him. "Dude, Alex is here. She said that you need to convince her to just come home already."

"Claire's a big girl. She can make her own choices." Dean noticed that Claire wasn't in the apartment though. He wondered where she was. It had only been a couple of weeks, but the place already felt empty without her in it.

"Dean, Alex said that she's being ridiculous. Apparently, they were on a hunt and Claire got like no sleep. Then she started seeing things and such. They showed up here and Claire got to reading the Carver Edlund books. Well, next thing you know and she's saying that she saw Chuck in the coffee shop and stuff. Alex is worried about her."

"You trying to say she's making it up? She's just seeing things? Is that it?" Dean felt the irritation rising into his tone.

"Well, Alex thinks Claire's been working too hard, taking on one too many hunts and such."

"She's not making it up, Sam."

"I don't know, Dean. Doesn't sound like anything I've ever encountered."

"I've seen it too, Sam. The light anyway. I haven't seen Chuck."

"What're you talking about?"

Dean sighed heavily and said, "There was this light. I saw it twice. One time it covered my bed in the night. The other time it surrounded me in a dark alcove next to one of the buildings on campus."

"How do you know it wasn't just a bit of moonlight or a reflection?" Sam asked.

"Gee, I don't know Sam. If only I knew someone with decades of experience with the supernatural to explain all of this to me." His voice took on the tone of a spiteful girl. "I haven't been out of the game for that long."

"Hey, sorry, man. I just thought that maybe you didn't check as well as you might have before."

"Well I did. Claire and I have been hitting the lore and whatever we can find online. By the way, good job on the digitizing. The bunker library is rather easy to search now."

"Been a labor of love, let me tell you." Now Sam let out a long sigh. "I'm kinda surprised that you and Claire haven't torn each other apart yet. Two weeks under the same roof might be a record for you two."

"Might be." Dean turned when he heard the door open. Claire walked in. "Look what the cat dragged in." She held out a Starbucks cup to him. He took it and gave it a little sniff. It smelled like spices. "What's this?"

"Chai. Drink it."

He groaned and gave it a little sip. "Too sweet."

"I know I am."

Dean turned his attention back to the conversation with Sam. "So you gonna look into this on your end too?"

"Yeah, I'll put Alex on it too. Really though, I think you should convince Claire to come back. I think that they had a fight and Claire's just using this research at your place to avoid Alex."

"I'll see what I can do. In the meantime, you do a little digging. Let me know what you unearth."

"Will do." With that Sam hung up. Dean moved to Claire's side.

"What's with the chai?"

"Thought you'd like to try something different since it's Sunday and we're going to church."

"Yeah, and you just wanted an excuse to go looking for Chuck at the coffee house huh?"

"Maybe. No sightings."

"Just so you know, coffee is my cup of tea. Don't get why people like this." He wandered with it though, back to his room.

Claire called after him, "Wear something nice. Add a tie."

"Why? Is it that kind of church."

"Out of respect for Charlotte. Also, you never know who might be there to impress."

Dean poked his head back out of his room and looked at her. "Pretty sure I made it clear that I'm not interested in any of that." Claire looked like she was going to pursue this line of conversation so Dean went on, "By the way, Alex is at the bunker with Sam. He told me that you two had a fight and that I should convince you to go home."

Claire's mouth tightened into a solid, flat line. "Yeah, what'd you say?"

"Told him you were a big girl, and you could make your own choices. They're looking into the light and Chuck sightings now."

"Oh, so she believes me now. Nice." Claire sounded like she was just about to go off, but then she shut it down. "Wear a blue tie." She turned away from him and walked out onto the balcony.

Dean felt the smile come on slowly. Well, my work here is done.

The church was not too ornate. It had the typical high ceilings and the front was adorned with an empty cross. There was stained glass, but it was only at the front. The light that passed through it was in hues of blue, red, and green. They met Charlotte there and she got them to the middle of the space. The pews were reasonably comfortable. Dean looked around. They were not far enough in the back, the I'm late-guilt-seats. They also weren't close to the front either in the I'm-a-guilty-sinner-seats. They were in the comfy middle.

Charlotte leaned over to him as the music began. It wasn't time to sing or anything, but the music told those in the outer hall to get on inside. "That's the Reverend Carmichael. He's the one that I was consulting with on the sermon."

Dean followed her gaze to a good looking, dark-haired man sitting off to the side. His white button-up was just tight enough to show the hard lines of muscles in his shoulders and back. He couldn't see his face as he had his back to the crowd. "You doing more than sharing sermon advice with him?" Dean winked at her, but got a scowl back.

"We're in church, jerk."

"Oh, sorry, Charlotte."

Then she laughed at him. "Gotcha." It took Dean a moment to catch up. "I'm pretty sure my efforts on that front would be moot. Maybe I could live vicariously through you though."

Dean was trying to follow her when the reverend got up and approached the pulpit. He had high cheekbones and a piercing brown-eyed gaze that swept over the crowd. His complexion spoke to hours of outdoor activity. His lips curled up into a smile as his eyes passed over their section of the church. Dean finally decided to reply to Charlotte, "Not interested."

"You sure about that?" she whispered.

He looked at her and said, "Stop." She just laughed and he found himself smiling back just a little.

It was an interesting sermon. Claire leaned forward like she was eating it all up or maybe her back was hurting. The reverend wove a story that began with the ancients believing that our fates were all decided. He talked of the way that the greatest honor was to be placed in the starry sky after a life well-lived. It was a place for heroes and gods and any great thing of note.

Dean felt himself sliding forward a little to be closer to the words. The reverend added though, "Yet despite their place in the stars, we still view the sky as a place that tells the story of fate. It is where our lives are written and woe be unto anyone who thinks that they can defy that narrative."

Dean glanced at Charlotte and whispered, "You have anything to do with this part?"

"Maybe a little," she whispered back.

Dean went back to listening. "And one has to wonder why anyone would want an eternity hanging in the sky as a constellation. What is it about this honor that made so many tales seem richer? How many stories have you read from the ancient myths that end with the hero or god or creature being set in the sky to look down on humanity for time immortal? Yet that is what they looked to, and it got me wondering. Why?"

Claire leaned into him a little, "You enjoying this Mr. Free Will?"

Dean whispered back, "He's gearing up for the free will bit."

The reverend said, "If they were placed in the stars maybe there, they could effect change, or maybe they could at least watch the ones they left behind, or maybe it was just about being watched. I thought about all of this and came away with more questions than answers. In the end, I realized that maybe there was no one right answer. I was trying to place just one motive, one goal, one aspiration onto everything, and in the end I realized that this was wrong."

Dean leaned into Charlotte now and whispered, "Well, that was not the direction I thought he'd take." Charlotte just smiled.

The reverend continued, "In our faith, and I say our faith knowing full well that even we come to it differently with many motives, goals, and aspirations..." He paused took a breath and started again, "In our faith, we place our dead in a metaphorical sky too. We call it heaven though. It is a place the artists of old depicted with clouds, and endless blue, the cute fat cherubs fluttering through it with harps at their hips. I don't suppose though that this is the vision of the afterlife that everyone in this room longs for. When pressed to define what we want, I imagine that each of you would have very different ideas of what makes for a rewarding paradise."

Claire leaned into Dean now and said, "Gotta wonder where he's heading with this, but it is interesting."

"Yeah," Dean said.

The reverend went on, "And it's the reward part that also struck me. Since the earliest days, mankind has viewed the sky as not just a place that they will ascend to upon death, but we have also viewed it as a place of reward. It is a place in which we will be granted the greatest wealth, celebrity, or peace, depending on one's desires. It is the place where we gain the things that we sacrificed or longed for while we yet lived. So, if I die, I expect a constellation to show up that looks like the Eiffel Tower. You all will know it's mine because I've been wanting to go to France for years, and I'll likely only get there via a heavenly reward." His tone shifted into the wistful, "Oh, fresh baguettes and eclairs...hmm."

The congregation laughed a little. "They should take up a collection for him to go to France," Dean said to Charlotte.

"Don't think they haven't tried. He just gave the money to someone else that he thought needed it more. He's like that."

"Rewards though," the reverend's words became the focus again. "Those are interesting, aren't they? We live better lives, kinder lives, more heroic lives, so that we might be rewarded in heaven. There we'll finally get that one thing that we never had here." He sighed and threw his arms up into an exaggerated shrug. "I wonder if it wouldn't be better if we just didn't have this concept that the best things are yet to come. I wonder if it would be best for all of us to just live our lives to the best of our abilities without all of these thoughts of heavenly reward."

"Interesting," Dean whispered.

"Maybe if we start thinking of the afterlife as just a continuation of our present lives, we might start living differently. What if we pass on and heaven is just our greatest hits on repeat? What if heaven is even simpler for some of us? What if it is just a whole lot of watching and waiting. For most, life is filled with calm moments. I wonder sometimes if heaven is that for some of us. So I didn't come to any great conclusions except this, the ancient storytellers placed their greatest heroes and even some of their villains in the starry sky seemingly to look down at us. Yet what really happened was they put them all there, regardless of the good or evil they may have done in life, they put them there to be seen and learned from. They are there for the living. Maybe heaven is that too. Maybe where we go after isn't the point. Maybe it's just the living as best as we can, because there's a whole world full of things that matter and need doing right here everyday."

He went into more, but Dean let his mind linger on the words a little. He wondered what he hoped for now. Heaven held no appeal for him. A promise was made to him years ago, that if he died again, that it would be permanent. He was ready for that, but he wondered what that would be took some comfort in the idea that he'd be sharing a fate that was not dissimilar to Cas' fate. After all, Cas never did think that there would be anything for him after death. Just gone, or a hero in the stars, Dean thought.

The sermon ended and Charlotte elbowed him to get him moving. The reverend moved down the aisle to the outer vestibule to talk with the congregation as they left. As he passed their row, Dean could have sworn that the light from the windows seemed to follow him, giving him an extra golden glow that drew the eye.

After the reverend passed, they each got up, lost in their thoughts and made their way down the center aisle with the rest of the congregation. "Did it sound okay, Charlotte?" Reverend Carmichael asked as they drew near on their way out.

Charlotte answered, "It's always lovely. You added some nice ideas on purpose."

He turned his attention from Charlotte to Dean and Claire then, "I don't believe I've had the pleasure." His voice carried a hint of a southern drag in the accent. It hadn't been as apparent in the sermon, but it was there now in the vestibule with all of the pleasantries and the quiet murmurs of the surrounding conversations.

Dean took his hand in a shake and said, "Dean Winchester." He intended to make the handshake a quick one, all business and done. The reverend let it linger a little by adding a second hand over the shake.

"A pleasure to meet you. I believe that Charlotte has mentioned inviting you." He turned to Charlotte with a smile, and he seemed to glow a little more with the words.

Charlotte said, "I may have mentioned you a time or two."

The reverend released Dean's hand. He turned to Claire then and took her hand in the same way, "And you are?"

"Claire Novak." She was smiling at him. Claire usually reserved those looks for rare moments, yet here she was looking quite pleased.

The reverend released her hand and asked, turning from her to Dean and then back, "Did you find the sermon acceptable?"

Dean said, "It was not your typical fire and brimstone tent revival." He smiled and added, "So that made it just right by me."

The reverend looked to Claire then and she said, "I rather like the idea of imagining my father and mother in heaven. I never viewed it as much of a goal though. I suppose I will be thinking about your words a great deal as the days pass."

"Mission accomplished then."

Dean made a move to leave and had a hand on Claire's back to direct her. He said, "Well, thanks reverend. I'm sure we'll be back again."

He reached out to Dean then and said, "You can call me Paul."

"Oh, well okay then." Dean felt a little flustered as he and the others edged out of the vestibule to the bright sunshiny world outside. Dean leveled a gaze at Charlotte and said, "Okay, spill. What did you say to him about me?"

Charlotte blushed a little. "Nothing really."

Claire laughed now, "Oh man, this is gonna be great."

"Shut it, Claire," Dean said and then abruptly turned back to Charlotte. "What did you say?"

"I just talked about you and our friendship and maybe how you seemed sad sometimes and I maybe showed a picture of us from the mixer last semester." She looked off at the other side of the street and added under her breathe, "He may have said something general about your attractiveness."

"Charlotte." Dean started but didn't know what to say.

"He's also single, just saying." Charlotte glanced over at Claire then and Dean followed the gaze. He just scowled at her.

"What Dean. I'm just glad it wasn't me this time." Claire laughed. "Come on you two. Let's get Dean some coffee." Claire gave him a pointed look, then looped her arm up in his and pulled him off down the sidewalk. Charlotte fell into step at his side.

They got to the corner where a small coffee house resided. They went in and stared up at the chalkboard proclaiming the various flavors of espresso drinks. Everything was painted in crisp white. The room was large and nearly all of the tables were being used. The room was filled with the chatter of the many people and the little clinks and clatters of plates and coffee mugs. Charlotte said, "Get me a chai. I'll get a table."

Once she had gone off to find a table, Dean said, "You shouldn't encourage her."

"You shouldn't make it so fun."

"Are we here for coffee?" Dean stepped up to the counter and placed their order then looked to Claire for an answer as he fished out the money to pay for the drinks.

"I can't shake the fact that I saw him. I keep thinking that if I just keep looking for him, I'll find him again."

Dean shrugged and stepped off to the side to wait for their drinks. "I don't think it was Chuck." Claire looked suddenly irritated. "Not saying that I think you imagined it. I'm just saying that it was likely just someone that looked a lot like him. Besides, you've only seen him in whatever bad quality picture Sam had of him. I can't imagine that it was at all clear."

"It was a good picture. I know what I saw. Just don't doubt me Dean. I really just don't need another person that I care about doubting me." She looked sad, and Dean pulled her in by the shoulders and pressed a kiss into her hair."

"I believe you. If I didn't, I wouldn't question you. I'd just roll my eyes and focus on other things." Their order came up and Dean picked up two of the drinks, while Claire grabbed her own.

"For the record, the reverend was cute, but he's no Cas." He just gave her a raised brow and she continued. "I want you to be happy Dean. Would it kill you to just grab a bite with the guy?"

He smiled at her and said, "It might. Of course with my luck it would more likely kill him. I'm really not interested." They were almost to the table when Dean threw out, "Plus it wouldn't be fair to him. He's not Cas."

They sat and Charlotte said, "So, did you like the sermon? Did it mesh with your sciencey self?"

Dean said, "Yeah, it was interesting. I don't feel like he had a gut punch point at the end like most preachers do. It felt more like a conversation."

"I know. All of his services are like that. Plus, if you talk to people afterwards about the sermon, everyone will have a different focus. It's like we all get different things out of it." She took a careful sip of her chai. "Like one time I was talking with Mel after a sermon on charitable service and she had a totally different take on the thing."

"What do you mean?" Clare asked.

"Well, it was like I heard a sermon on charity and she heard a service on just a general topic of basic human kindness. On the surface they are not different topics, but she really did not hear the same message I did. Funny thing too, it happens all of the time."

Dean perked up a little and asked, "So today's sermon was about living without the goal of rewards in heaven, right?"

Charlotte cocked her head to the side and said, "Uh, kinda. Is that what you got from it?"

"Yeah, and he talked about the stars and such." Dean glanced over at Claire and then back at Charlotte.

"Yes, he did do that. He just has this way of dropping in so many little extras that everyone hears differently is all. It's nice, way better than when he first started out."

"What do you mean?" Claire asked.

"Well, about a year ago the church was talking about letting him go. I mean we all liked him, but he had a very dull delivery. We weren't getting much out of him. then, like overnight he became some sort of uber preacher. Can't believe we almost let him go." Charlotte took another careful sip of her chai.

Claire looked over at Dean and asked, "So, when did you move here, Dean?"

It took Dean a moment to catch onto the purpose of the question. He answered, "About a year ago." He gave her a look that said, We'll talk about this later.

Claire said, "I can't believe you've been out here a year now."

"Sometimes feels like it has been longer." He glanced around the room, taking a drink from his coffee cup while he did so. That was when he saw him. He almost choked on the drink. Sputtering, he lowered the drink to the table. "I'll be right back."

"Where're you going?" Charlotte asked.

"I think I see someone I know, someone I haven't seen in a long time." Claire started to get up then too. Dean waved her back down. "I'll be right back."

He got up and moved to the stairway that went up to the loft seating area. You could see the people up there from down below, but he hadn't really looked up there until that moment. He took the stairs two at a time. When he got to the top, he just stood there, staring across the space at the man sitting near the edge of the loft. He had an old laptop in front of him and a steaming cup of coffee. Dean approached him. When he got to the edge of the table, he didn't know what to say so he just stood there staring down at the man that he had known as Chuck and God, and occasionally Carver Edlund. He looked up at Dean without a moment's pause and said, "Hello, Dean."