Cas was adjusted to life without Dean fairly well. The combined effort from the fairies was helpful, since they loved working together and were more than happy to lend a hand when needed. His baby was growing well, drinking lots of milk, fussing considerably less and was even smiling. The eggs were also safe and healthy.

"See? You just open up the pod and pull out the seed."

Ruby had brought home a bunch of spiky pods from deep in the woods and was now showing Cas how to prepare them.

"Like this?" Cas asked, doing as she said. A triangular seed popped out from the center.

"Yep, just like that."

"And then what?"

"We'll take them all out and then crush them to make flour."

"Make a flower?!"

Cas' eyes widened and Ruby laughed. "No, no, you'll see. Just watch."

They worked to get all of the seeds out, and then Ruby put them in a bowl. She took a stone tool and began crushing them up. At this point, her three children gathered around to watch.

"I don't understand how this will be a flower."

"Not a flower, flour. You know those spongy things we baked in the oven the other day?"

"Yes."

"That was made with flour."

"Hmm…"

"It makes sense. Trust me."

"I will."

Cas watched apprehensively for a while until he heard his baby start to cry. "Oh, no…not again!" He got up swiftly and went to the crib, where he picked up the baby and rocked him in his arms. "Shh…it's all right. You'll be fine."

The baby kept fussing. This was no ordinary crying, though, and Cas realized it soon enough. Ruby did, too. She halted the seed grinding and came to Cas' side in an instant.

"That sounds like he's in pain!" she said, looking urgent. Cas' forehead scrunched up.

"It does. But where? How? What do we do?"

"Let me see him."

Cas handed the baby over to Ruby, who looked him over. As he faced the fairy, Cas noticed that his little wings looked off.

"Aah!" Cas gasped. "What's happened to his wings?!"

They were turning black and curling up small. Cas began to panic. Ruby wasn't sure what to do, either. The baby kept crying. Cas touched one of the wings and it fell to the floor.

"Oh, no, no!"

The other soon did the same without any help. And just like that, the baby stopped crying. The room fell silent. He wiggled his lips and stared at Ruby, who was speechless.

"Baby?" Cas asked softly, opening his hands to take him back. Ruby handed him over silently. Cas sat down and put the baby in his lap so he could look him over carefully. His back was entirely smooth.

"Is he okay?" asked Ruby.

"I believe so…but what does this mean?" He looked at Ruby with sad eyes. "Now I am very worried about Dean."

Light…

Warmth…

Peace…

Music…

With his eyes closed, Dean heard the sound of an orgel playing. It was both far away yet everywhere at the same time. He rested with the music in his ears for what felt like months. All was calm. All was pleasant.

Then he remembered Sam and Cas. His body flooded with the pain that Lord Azazel had inflicted upon him. Blood was running down his face.

"Tchh…"

Wincing, he tried to open his eyes and sit up. Where was the dark lord, now? Where was his brother?

"Sam?"

His voice echoed in great ripples. As his adjusted his vision to the warm light that surrounded him, he saw that he was sitting in a large hall. It looked so much like the great hall back in Lawrence that he thought he was there again. It was too big, though. The ceiling was twice as high, and the colors were different. Instead of cold stone, the walls were made of a smooth, white rock. The floors were tiled with creamy marble, swirled with glittering ribbons of gold flake. To each of his sides, Dean saw stained-glass windows with elaborate pictures in full, brilliant color. They seemed to tell stories from a time long before Dean or his ancestors.

"Hello?"

Finally, there came footsteps. They were slow and soft. Dean turned in the direction of them and saw a short man walking towards him. He had graying hair and was dressed in oddly well-made clothes.

"Hey," the stranger said.

Dean, who was still sitting on the floor and enduring pain from Azazel's blows, glared at the man. "Where the hell am I?" he asked.

"Safe," said the man. He smiled weakly and continued to approach.

"Where's my brother?"

"Sam's fine. He's healing. Don't worry about him."

"Wha? How do you know his name?"

The man smirked. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants and stopped when he got quite close to Dean. "I know you're Dean," he said.

"How?! What's going on?"

"You fell through the sacral mirror," the man explained, "And it brought you here. To my house. I'm Chuck."

Dean froze. His mouth fell open.

"What? You're—YOU—you're Chuck?"

"Yeah."

"No way! Our God isn't just some guy. That's impossible!"

"It's not. I am."

Chuck was so nonchalant about his divinity that it frustrated Dean even more. The mortal man tried to stand up, but his legs hurt so badly that he collapsed.

"Relax," said Chuck. "Sam is healing and now it's your turn."

He extended two fingers to Dean and tried to touch him, but Dean pulled back. "Nu uh!" He shouted. "How can I trust you?"

"Dean," Chuck said, sighing, "I'm your god. If there's anybody you can trust, it's me. Now relax."

He brought his fingers to Dean once more and this time Dean reluctantly allowed him to touch. The moment Chuck made contact, a warm pulse warbled throughout Dean's entirety. His wounds healed. The blood was gone.

"Holy shit," Dean whispered.

Chuck laughed. "Yeah, pretty much."

"Wait, okay, hold on." Feeling great now, Dean stood up with ease. "What's going on here?"

"All right, Dean. I'm going to ask you something and I need you to think about it."

"Sure…"

Chuck's eyes stared at Dean with a deep compassion, something that Dean didn't quite understand. It was an odd look yet strangely comforting. A twinge of pain was in it, too.

"Do you want to know the truth?"

"What truth?" asked Dean.

"All of the truth. Everything."

Dean pressed his lips together. "Yes," he said.

"Are you positive?"

"I am. I want to know."

Chuck kept staring at Dean for a moment, then he turned around and began to walk. "Okay. Follow me."

Dean shrugged to himself and followed the god. He was considerably shorter than Dean and hunched a little. He still found it hard to believe that this was their creator. This was the deity they had been praying to for so long.

Chuck took him through a doorway and down a short hall. It was just as spectacular as the larger one, with more stained glass along the walls.

"You see, Dean," Chuck began, pressing onward, "I know there was an existence before I was your god. Something…somewhere…I existed. I don't know how or why or when or where, but I can sense it. One day, I opened my eyes and I was in a big emptiness. A voice told me, 'create', and so I did. I made the land of Kaz. I made the fairies. I made the people. I made animals and trees and it was great! It really was. But you know what happened?"

Dean shook his head, even though Chuck was in front of him.

"I wanted answers. I wanted to know who I was before I became your god. That was why I built this house—a place isolated from Kaz where I could research and relax without worrying about the humans. I did everything I could to discover the old me, but I failed. I failed so bad…" Chuck stopped walking. They were almost to the end of the hall, where two closed doors sat. He turned and faced Dean again. His face was terribly sad. "Do you want to know what happened?" he asked.

"Yeah," said Dean. "I wanna know everything."

The god took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. "The sacral mirror was something I created as a doorway between my realm and Kaz. See, they aren't physically connected. This realm is on another dimension. I hid the mirror in the palace of the fairy king in Avalon. He knew about me and I trusted him to keep it safe."

"Cool," Dean acknowledged weakly.

"It was, but…well…you know how this is a different dimension? Apparently the mirror linked to other dimensions, too. When I figured that out, I really pursued it. I thought maybe I would find the place I came from!"

"So? Did you?"

"No, I never did. But Azazel found us. He's not from here, not at all. He came out of the sacral mirror and immediately began to destroy. That mold you saw in old Avalon? That was something he did. He scattered it everywhere and killed all of the fairies."

Dean frowned. "Jeez…but, hey, uh, not to be rude or anything, but since you're God, why didn't you just get rid of Azazel?"

"It's not that easy, Dean. I create but I can't destroy. I can't interfere. I gave humans the law of free will, and they can choose their own destiny. The best I could do was to try and teach people about Azazel." He went to one of the doors now and opened it. "Come."

"Where's this go?"

"To your brother."

Dean followed Chuck into the small room. It was a bedroom, lit by candles. On a soft bed was Sam, fast asleep, and next to him sat a woman. She was fair, with dark hair and large blue eyes.

"Woah. Uh, hi?" said Dean, surprised to see someone else.

"Hello," the woman answered softly.

"Who is this?" asked Dean.

"The second part to my story," said Chuck. "See, Azazel's destruction was so overwhelming and he commanded such great power, that I needed more help of the divine kind. That's when I created the angels."

"Angels…"

"They were twins. A boy and a girl. Positive and negative. Water and fire. They were of the same material but with enough differences to really help me. And they did. This is Hannah, she is the girl."

"Nice to meet you, Hannah," said Dean. "Y'know, I've got a lot of questions about angels."

"I'm sure you do," said Chuck. He turned to Hannah. "Do you wanna tell him the rest?"

Hannah nodded. "Of course," she said, then stood up. "Stay here with Sam. I will show Dean."

"Show me? Show me what?"

Hannah strode out of the room. "Please follow me."

Dean was getting frustrated with all of this follow the leader nonsense, but his curiosity about angels with piqued now and it made it tolerable. Hopefully he was going to learn the nature of his winged child.

Hannah was wearing a long, flowing gown of white. It rippled behind her. Dean did his best to follow without stepping on it.

"In here, please," said Hannah. She gestured her hand and the other door at the end of the hallway opened up. Dean widened his eyes, then followed though. The room was entirely dark, but Hannah glowed softly so Dean could still see her.

"Chuck sent us to Kaz so that we could stop Azazel. We had to work with the humans to find a way. We descended and worked our way across the land, teaching what we could, and learning what we could. It was all quite successful until my twin brother fell in love."

"Wha?"

"He fell in love. He met a man and fell in love. They worked together to stop Azazel, and one day my brother left to fight the dark lord. He managed to injure Azazel greatly, but was unsuccessful."

"So um, what does this have to do with me?"

Hannah's glowing face nodded. "My brother, you see, made a pact with the man he loved. He knew that the man would be important one day, so he bound their souls."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that when the man died, he would be reincarnated into a body that would find my brother again."

"Romantic," Dean said, raising his eyebrows.

"I am not sure, but this is important for you to know. Right now, we stand in the hall that my brother once called his own. This is where he lived, where he studied."

Hannah raised her hand and snapped her fingers. All at once, light flooded into the room. It was tall like the first one, with the same marbled floors and pearly walls, but this room was an octagon. In the center of the room was a statue so grand that it nearly touched the ceiling. Dean looked up at it and gasped. The white marble figure was dressed in a gown like Hannah's, standing gracefully with one hand extending forward. Wings were folded on his back. And his face…

"This was the hall of the brother, the angel Castiel."