Disclaimer: I don't own SPN.

I woke up at 3 am. I started a 9 hour shift at 5 am. I have been awake for 18 hours. And a depressive episode has caught up with me and I've temporarily lost the will to write as I contemplate the meaningless of life and why I even exist. So this is probably absolute crap but I had to get something out.

Thanks to mollienaturerocks, RangerHorseTug, masterjediratgrl31 and mikaykaykay07 for your reviews :)

212. Why

"I think something's up with Zoey," Dean hissed to Cas. "She hasn't moved all morning. Even Robbie can't get her to play with him."

"Let me guess," Castiel said. "You want me to talk to her."

Dean smirked.

"Preferably."

Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Fine."

He approached Zoey, who was lying on a couch in one of the bunker's many rooms and staring up at the ceiling.

"Is anything wrong, Zoey?" he asked, sitting down next to her head. Zoey raised her head and flopped back down on his lap.

"Why am I alive, Papa?" she said. Castiel blinked, momentarily thrown off-balance.

"Because your parents made you," he said. "They made love and created you. You know that."

"I know that. But why am I alive? Why are we all alive?"

Dean, standing in the doorway with Robbie, stared at Castiel confusedly. Castiel shared his human's bemusement. Why did was a seven year old pondering the meaning of life?

"No one's really sure, princess," Dean said, crossing over to lean on the arm of the couch. Robbie scrambled over and sat down on the floor.

"Papa does. He used to be an angel."

"Even angels don't know, Zoey," Castiel said, running his fingers through her dark red hair. "Only Father knows and He isn't around to tell us."

"Why'd you start stressing over this all of a sudden?" Dean said. Zoey shrugged.

"I wanna know. And even when we die and go to Heaven and stay in our best memories – what's the point? Why do we exist?"

Dean blinked.

"You're seven, princess. You shouldn't be worrying about this stuff."

"It doesn't matter why we exist," Castiel said. "All that matters is that we do exist and you have a loving family and home. Only God will ever know why we truly exist because He is the artist who fashioned us and made your life possible. And even if I have lost faith in Him, I will always be grateful to Him for creating me so that I could have you and Robbie and Dean."

Zoey beamed up at him.

"Love you, Papa." She sat up to kiss his cheek.

"I love you too, Zoey."

"Don't I get a kiss?" Dean complained. Robbie giggled and stood up to give Dean a sloppy kiss.

"Love you, Dad!" he said. Dean smirked and heaved Robbie up into his arms, Robbie gripping him like an octopus.

"Robbie's my favourite," he declared.

"I don't care," Zoey said, wrapping her arms around Castiel's waist. "I'm Papa's favourite.'

"I don't have a favourite," Castiel said, amused. "I love you all equally."

Dean grinned and leaned up, pressing his lips to Castiel's. Castiel closed his eyes and hummed into the kiss happily, ignoring Zoey and Robbie's gagging noises. What he'd said was true; though he had lost all faith in God, he would always be grateful for the beautiful family that he had been blessed with. What had he done to deserve an amazing husband and two wonderful children?