Mack stared unseeingly at the wall of the motel room. It had been three days since she'd killed for the first time. Three days since she'd become a murderer. It didn't matter that it was a demon. She'd never be the same again. She'd had a pretty severe anxiety attack the morning after it happened when she woke up that Dean had helped her down from. But when he tried asking her about it, she wouldn't tell him what was wrong. After that she had just become numb.

Sam had checked into an adjoining room to her and Dean, the brothers still tense after Dean's confession in the hospital parking lot. He would come into their room during the day to help Dean with different research things or they'd head to the hospital to check on Bobby, but he stayed away after dark. Dean had to coax Mack into bed, and then hold her until she fell asleep, because she was afraid to close her eyes. Every time she did, she relived stabbing Ruby's knife into the demon. In the bathroom, the sink stopped running and the door opened a moment later as her father came out. She dropped her gaze from the wall to her lap, rubbing Skittles' ear as usual.

"Mack?" her father asked gently, coming over. "Talk to me, baby girl. What's wrong?" Her eyes flicked up to meet his, cold and expressionless. It was like the light had gone out of them, and it broke his heart. He'd wracked his brain, trying to figure out what had happened to make her retreat into herself the past couple days, but was having trouble pinpointing what it was. Between Bobby landing in the hospital, the confrontation with Zachariah at Castle Storage, and trying to find the devil, it had been an eventful three days.

The most expressive and excited she'd been was when Cas first showed back up at John's lockup. "We're heading to the hospital to visit Bobby," he told her when she didn't say anything. "You want to get cleaned up so we can go?" Robotically, she got up and walked over to her bag, getting out a change of clothes and then slipping into the bathroom. Dean stared at the closed door, sighing to himself as he heard the sink start running a moment later. Sam came strolling through the door that connected their two rooms. "We ready to go?" he asked. "Almost. Mack's just getting changed," Dean nodded at the bathroom. "What's going on with her, man?"

"I don't know. She got really quiet around the time we dropped Bobby off at the hospital. Maybe she's just worried about him," Sam shrugged. "I don't think so," Dean shook his head. "It's something else... Something before Bobby landed in the... hospital." His jaw dropped as he realized what was wrong. "What?" Sam asked, still confused. "The demons."

"What?"

"At the other motel. Meg and her buddies. Mack killed one of them." Sam's face lit up with understanding and they both looked back at the bathroom door. "She's never... That was the first time she... Son of a bitch," Dean shook his head. "I'm so stupid."

"It's not your fault, Dean. A lot's been going on in the past couple days. We were still running on adrenaline when it happened; you shouldn't beat yourself up over it."

"No, but it is my fault," Dean insisted. "If I had just taught her a few things, given her a few basic hunting experiences, then maybe she wouldn't be reacting like this." Sam put a hand on his brother's shoulder. "Hey, listen. This. Is. Not. Your. Fault. Mack knows the basics. She's around enough during the research side of things that she's picked up on stuff. And she's seen enough that she knew to use the knife to kill that demon. You aren't Dad. You're so much better, because of the way you've raised that little girl. She's strong. She'll bounce back from this. Understand?"

Dean swallowed hard, nodding his head. He knew Sam had a point. Mack did know the basics. Yeah, she hadn't had any hands-on experience, but she was smart and had picked up on things over the years. The bathroom door opened, and Mack emerged wearing a fresh outfit. She'd cleaned her face and had attempted to brush through the tangled mess that was her hair. "Hey, kiddo. You ready?" Dean asked. She just nodded, not meeting his eyes, and it made him want to cry. "Alright. Let's go."

While they had been at the hospital, Dean had gone down to radiology to get x-rays of his ribs. The doctors had been baffled by the Enochian writing that had shown up- Cas's gift to him, Sam and Mack. Bobby was in his room, sitting in a wheelchair facing the window. He was worse than Mack, refusing to eat or talk. Cas had called Sam's cell phone during their visit, asking where they were. He had asked for Dean's amulet he'd gotten from Sam, claiming it had the ability to locate God. Before he left, Dean asked to speak to him privately.

"I'm worried about Mack," he told him. Cas frowned, "Why? What's wrong with her?" Dean swallowed, biting his lip. "Three days ago, when the demons showed up at the motel, Mack killed one of them," he explained. "She's never killed before, Cas... and now she won't talk about it." Cas looked back at Bobby's room, where Mack had resumed her regular task of sitting quietly and rubbing her rabbit's ear. "What would you have me do, Dean?" he queried, looking back at her father. "I don't know, man. She trusts you. Maybe she'll open up if you talk to her."

The angel nodded in understanding. "Of course. I can put off my search for God to talk with her." Dean's shoulders relaxed visibly. "Yeah, thanks, Cas." They returned to the room and Cas went over to Mack, speaking with her quietly before taking her hand and vanishing from the room. He took her to a park, sitting with her on one of the benches. "Dean tells me you've stopped talking again," he stated. "Is there a reason you won't tell him what is bothering you, bee?"

"I killed someone, Cas," she said after a long pause. She looked up at him sadly, tears brimming in her eyes. "Someone is dead because of me." Cas looked back at her, empathy shining in his bright eyes. "Mckinley, what was happening when you killed them?" he asked her. "D-Daddy and U-Uncle Sammy were being attacked by d-demons..." she choked out, starting to cry. "And those demons, it was one of them that you killed?" She nodded, sniffling. "T-the one hurting D-Daddy."

"Bee, it's okay. What you did, it helped your father, didn't it?" She just nodded again, hanging onto his every word. "So, you don't have to be upset by it. I understand it's scary the first time you kill a monster, but it gets better. You're making the world a better place by helping get rid of the demons and other monsters." She moved in closer to him, hugging him as she buried her face in his side and continued crying. He put an arm around her awkwardly, trying to provide some semblance of comfort. He sensed that she didn't need him to say anything else, just needed to finish crying while he held her.

While they sat there, he got a text from Dean. He and Sam were headed to check out a case. He had told him to take Mack back to Bobby's room and let her stay with him until they returned. "Are you ready to head back, bee?" he asked her once her crying had calmed down. She nodded, burrowing further into his side. Holding her close, he transported them back to Bobby's hospital room per Dean's instructions, and then he left once more to try and find God.

Dean dampened a washcloth in the motel room sink, attempting to scrub the blood out of his jacket. Mack had been left at Bobby's for the time being, and after facing the Horseman War, he and Sam had decided to separate for a little while. Cas suddenly appeared behind Dean, and when he spotted him in the mirror, he jumped. "God," he thumped the sink. "Don't do that."

"Hello, Dean," Cas greeted him. Dean turned around, finding himself inches away from Cas. His eyes flickered from Cas's electric blue eyes down to his lips and back, and he darted his tongue out to wet his own lips. "Cas, we've talked about this. Personal space?" he reminded the angel. "My apologies," Cas said, taking a step back. Trying to ignore the way his heart was threatening to pound out of his chest, Dean grabbed his jacket and walked toward the bed.

"How'd you find me? I thought I was flying below the angel radar." He rubbed at his ribs to illustrate his point. "You are. Bobby told me where you were." That made sense. Dean had checked in with the old man almost every day to see how he was holding up and to talk to his daughter. Castiel looked around the room, noticing the lack of both Sam and Mack. "Where are Sam and Mckinley?" Dean rolled his eyes, putting on his jacket without looking at the angel. "Mack's staying with Bobby. And me and Sam are taking separate vacations for a while. So. You find God yet? More importantly, can I have my damn necklace back, please?"

"No, I haven't found him. That's why I'm here. I need your help." Dean scowled. "With what? God hunt? Not interested." He was admittedly crankier than usual, which is why he snapped at Cas. He and Sam hadn't been apart for an extended period of time since Stanford, and he normally would have picked up Mack from Bobby's by now, but she was still recovering from killing her first monster and he thought it would be better for her to stay put for a while. "It's not God," Cas corrected. "It's someone else."

"Who?" he asked curiously. "Archangel. The one who killed me." That startled Dean. "'Scuse me?" he raised an eyebrow. "His name is Raphael," Cas informed him seriously. Dean couldn't help but snort. "You were wasted by a teenage mutant ninja angel?" The reference, of course, went right over Cas's head. "I've heard whispers that he's walking the Earth. This is a rare opportunity."

"For what? Revenge?"

"Information," Castiel corrected. Dean headed back over to the sink, picking up the washcloth and his knife and starting to clean the knife. "So, what, you think you can find this dude and he's just gonna spill God's address?" Castiel's response was fervent. "Yes, because we are gonna trap him and interrogate him." Dean paused, turning back, "You're serious about this." Cas turned around to face Dean, who dropped the washcloth and stalked toward the angel. "So, what, I'm Thelma and you're Louise and we're just going to hold hands and sail off this cliff together."

Another reference that Castiel didn't understand. He just stared at Dean in confusion, and the hunter rolled his eyes, going around him to pack his knife away in his bag. "Give me one good reason why I should do this," he said. "Because you're Michael's vessel and no angel will dare harm you." Dean looked back at Cas. "Oh, so I'm your bullet shield."

"I need your help because you're the only one who will help me," Cas said. "Please." After considering a moment longer, Dean relented. "Alright, fine. Where is he?"

"Maine. Let's go."

Cas reached for his forehead, and he shot his hand out, grabbing onto his wrist. He tried to ignore the way it felt electrifying to have any skin to skin contact with the angel. "Whoa," he protested. "What?" Cas asked, confused. "Last time you zapped me someplace, I didn't poop for a week. We're driving."

After interviewing the sheriff, they found out Raphael's vessel was down at the local hospital. The vessel- Donnie Finneman- was catatonic in a wheelchair. Dean asked Cas if that's what he had to look forward to if Michael jumped his bones, and Cas informed him that since Michael was more powerful, it would be much worse. After informing him he had to go get something in order to put their plan in motion, Cas vanished, leaving Dean to head back to an abandoned cabin they'd agreed to meet back up at.

He walked through the empty cabin, flipping through the pages of John's journal. He had conflicting emotions when it came to his father. He respected him as an authority figure and for doing the best he could in the situation he'd been forced into after his mother's death. He'd only been doing what he felt was right, trying to find answers on the road while also taking care of two kids. But beyond that respect, were the deep rooted feelings that he didn't like to examine too closely. Feelings like fear for himself and for Sammy anytime John showed up reeking of alcohol. Like anger over the way John hadn't shown even a drop of love for his only granddaughter. Feelings like the ever growing need to please his father, to do whatever it took just to hear the words, "Good job, son. I'm proud of you."

He never heard those words come out of John's mouth; not until the night Yellow Eyes possessed him. Growing up, it was always, "Take care of Sammy, boy. Look after your brother." He set the journal down on a table, leaning his hands on either side of it. At the tell-tale rustle of wings, he turned to face Cas, who was standing there holding a ceramic jar.

"Where've you been?" he asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of his tone. "Jerusalem," the angel replied. "Oh, how was it?" Dean shot back sarcastically. "Arid," Cas stated, placing the jar down on the table beside the journal. "Dean, what's wrong?" Dean blinked. "What do you mean?"

"You've been hostile toward me ever since I first arrived. What is bothering you?"

"It's, uh... It's nothing... Just miss Mack, I guess... What's that?" he gestured to the jar, changing the subject. "It's oil. It's very special. Very rare." Cas sat down in one of the chairs. "Okay, so we trap Raphael with a nice vinaigrette?" Dean quipped. "No," Cas took him seriously. Dean stared at him for a moment before pressing on. "So, this ritual of yours, when does it go down?"

"Sunrise."

"Tell me something. You keep saying we're gonna trap this guy. Isn't that kinda like trapping a hurricane with a butterfly net?" he asked. "No, it's harder," the angel answered. "Do we have any chance of surviving this?" Dean's mind was on Mack, wondering if he would even get the chance to see her again. Maybe he should have called Bobby and talked to her instead of reading his father's journal.

"You do," Cas stated, surprising him. "So odds are you're a dead man tomorrow," he translated. "Yes." Swallowing, Dean wet his lips. "Well. Last night on Earth. What are your plans?" Cas paused, caught off guard by Dean's question. What he really wanted to do was stay alive. He didn't want to leave Dean or Mckinley. However, he felt like that answer would just make Dean upset, so instead he said, "I just thought I'd sit here quietly."

"Dude. Come on. Anything? Booze, women?" Dean stepped forward. Cas glanced at Dean sidelong and then away again, uncomfortable. "You have been with a woman before, right?" Dean pressed. "Or an angel, at least?" Cas rubbed the back of his neck, turning to look out the half boarded up window. "You mean to tell me you've never been up there doing a little cloud-seeding?"

"Look, I've never had occasion, okay?" Cas said quietly, getting annoyed by Dean's nagging. "Alright," Dean walked over to grab his jacket. "Let me tell you something. There are two things that I know for certain. One, Bert and Ernie are gay. Two, you are not gonna die a virgin. Not on my watch. Let's go." Dean headed out the door, and Cas stared after him before rising and heading after him.

Inside of a brothel bar, Dean drank from a large mug of beer, an identical one sitting untouched in front of Cas, who appeared terrified. "Hey," Dean got his attention. "Relax." Cas swallowed, glancing around at the room. "This is a den of iniquity. I should not be here." The angel sat ramrod straight, hands resting on his knees. "Dude, you full-on rebelled against Heaven. Iniquity is one of the perks," Dean pointed out, noticing a hooker coming towards them dressed in frilly white lingerie. "Showtime."

"Hi," the hooker greeted Cas. "What's your name?" She smiled down at him, but he remained silent. Across the table, Dean decided to step in. "Cas," he said loudly, making the angel jump, then lowered his voice. "His name is Cas. What's your name?" She smiled at him, then looked back at Cas as she responded, "Chastity." Dean raised his eyebrows. "Chastity," he repeated as Cas skulled most of his beer. "Wow. Is that kismet or what, buddy? Well, he likes you, you like him, so dayenu."

Chastity tugged Cas up out of his seat. "Come on, baby," she purred. Cas looked back at Dean frantically, a cry for help, and Dean grabbed his arm. "Hey, listen. Take this," he handed Castiel a roll of cash. "If she asks for a credit card, no. Now just stick to the basics, okay? Do not order off the menu. Go get her, tiger." Dean felt weird, sending Cas off with Chastity, but he ignored the feeling, getting distracted by another hooker walking past. A second later, a scream echoed from down the hall and he went off to investigate.

Chastity was screaming at Cas, who had his shirt unbuttoned and hanging loose, tie in one hand and coats in the other. "Get out of my face! Leave me alone! Bastard! Screw you, jerk! I'll kill you!" She stormed past Dean, who looked at her in surprise. "Screw you, too!" she screamed at him. "God! Oh! Jerk!" Dean approached Castiel, eyes flickering over his exposed chest. "The hell did you do?" he asked him. "I don't know. I just looked her in the eyes and told her it wasn't her fault that her father Gene ran off. It was because he hated his job at the post office."

"Oh, no, man," Dean groaned. "What?" Cas asked, confused. "This whole industry runs on absent fathers. It's, it's the natural order." Two bouncers entered through the door Chastity went through, and Dean tugged on Cas's arm. "We should go. Come on." He dragged Cas to the backdoor, in the opposite direction of the bouncers, and out into the alley. He was laughing as the door closed behind them. "What's so funny?" Cas questioned him. "Oh, nothing," he grinned. "Whoo. It's been a long time since I laughed that hard. It's been more than a long time. Years." His face fell as the realization hit him.

The next day, they stopped by Donnie's hospital room so Cas could summon Raphael before heading back to the cabin. "Well, that's a day I'll never get back," Dean mumbled. "Dean, wait," Cas tried to stop him as they entered the house. There was a bright light and Donnie already stood there in the middle of the room, showing off the shadow of his wings; Raphael had repossessed him. "Castiel," he spoke. "Raphael," Cas greeted him. He and Dean stepped closer. "And I thought you were supposed to be impressive," Dean smirked. "All you do is black out the room."

"And the Eastern Seaboard," Raphael bragged, lightning flashing outside. "It is a testament to my unending mercy that I do not smite you here and now." Dean stared at the archangel, not reacting. "Or maybe you're full of crap. Maybe you're afraid God will bring Cas back to life again and smite you and your candy-ass skirt. By the way, hi, I'm Dean."

"I know who you are. And now, thanks to him, I know where you are," Raphael looked over at Cas. "You won't kill him," Cas challenged. "You wouldn't dare." The archangel smirked. "But I will take him to Michael."

"Well then. Sounds terrifying. It does," Dean said, not sounding terrified at all. "But, uh, hate to tell you, I'm not going anywhere with you." He walked across the room, grabbing a beer. "Surely you remember Zachariah giving you stomach cancer?" Raphael asked. "Yeah, that was, that was hilarious," Dean smiled, taking a sip of his drink. "Well, he doesn't have anything close to my imagination."

"Yeah? I bet you didn't imagine one thing."

"What?"

"We knew you were coming, you stupid son of a bitch." Dean dropped his lighter, igniting the holy oil and causing flames to encircle Raphael. "Don't look at me, it was his idea," he gestured to Cas. "Where is he?" Cas asked when Raphael glared at him. "God? Didn't you hear? He's dead, Castiel. Dead." Cas shook his head. "No."

"But there's no other explanation," the archangel insisted. "He's gone for good." Castiel didn't believe it. "You're lying," he accused. "Am I? Do you remember the twentieth century? Think the twenty-first is going any better? Do you think God would have let any of that happen if he were alive?"

"Oh, yeah?" Dean interrupted. "Well then who invented the Chinese basket trick?" Raphael was not amused. "Careful," he rumbled. "That's my father you're talking about, boy." Dean scoffed. "Yeah, who would be so proud to know his sons started the frigging apocalypse."

"Who ran off and disappeared," Raphael countered. "Who left no instructions and a world to run." Dean smirked, glancing sidelong at Cas. "Daddy ran away and disappeared. He didn't happen to work for the post office, did he?" He noticed Cas's mouth turned up just the tiniest bit at his joke and his heart skipped a beat. "This is funny to you?" Raphael's anger grew, along with the thunder outside. "You're living in a godless universe."

"And? What, you and the other kids just decided to throw an apocalypse while he was gone?"

"We're tired. We just want it to be over. We just want... paradise."

"So, what, God dies and makes you the boss and you decide you can do whatever you want?"

"Yes," Raphael nodded. "And whatever we want, we get." The windows all burst inward, wind and rain pelting into the room. "If God is dead, why have I returned?" Cas asked. "Who brought me back?" Raphael smirked, "Did it ever occur to you that maybe Lucifer raised you?" Dean looked over at Cas, taking in his distress at that possibility. "No," the angel shook his head. "Think about it," Raphael pressed. "He needs all the rebellious angels he can find. You know it adds up."

"Let's go," Cas told Dean, turning toward the door. "Castiel, I'm warning you. Do not leave me here. I will find you." Cas turned back, glaring at Raphael. "Maybe one day. But today, you're my little bitch." He exited the building. "What he said," Dean nodded, following Cas out.

"You okay?" Dean asked Cas as they drove. Cas didn't respond, staring into the darkness outside the window. "Look, I'll be the first to tell you, that this little crusade of yours is nuts, but I do know a little something about absent fathers." Cas turned to face him. "What do you mean?" He was curious to hear about John Winchester in Dean's own words. He had his own opinion of the man; if John was still alive, he would be inclined to punch him in the face for the years of neglect and abuse the man had shown toward his children. Not to mention the way he had reacted when Dean first ended up with Mack.

"I mean there were times when I was looking for my dad when all logic said he was dead, but I knew in my heart he was still alive," Dean explained. "Who cares what some ninja turtle says, Cas, what do you believe?" That wasn't what he'd been expecting to hear, but it was what he needed to hear, nonetheless. "I believe he's out there," he admitted. "Good. Then go find him."

"What about you? Something still weighs on your mind," Cas stated. "Honestly? I'm tired, Cas. I miss my daughter, I need some sleep... But I'll be fine. You go on." Cas tilted his head, blue eyes studying Dean curiously. "Dean, I... I don't need to leave right away. And I don't believe you should be by yourself." Dean looked over, surprised by Cas's forwardness. "What are you suggesting, Cas?" he asked quietly. "I could stay. Watch over you."

Dean's heart was pounding out of his chest and his palms were clammy against the wheel. He doubted Cas meant staying the way Dean's brain had immediately jumped to, but just that thought... Castiel... In his room... All night... He had to pull over the car and stop in order to not swerve off the road. "Dean?" Cas looked over at him curiously. "Cas, I... Look, buddy, I appreciate the sentiment. I do. And I've been meaning to mention for a while now, but thanks for everything you've done for Mack."

"You're welcome, Dean."

"But," Dean pressed on, "I, uh, don't think it's a good idea for you to stay." He couldn't believe he was turning down the offer. Cas looked confused and hurt. "I don't understand. Why not?" he asked. "Cas... I, uh... I care about you... a lot... but I don't think... I could handle... I just don't think it's a good idea. Go on your God hunt. I'll be fine, I promise. I've had more fun with you in the past twenty-four hours than I've had with Sam in years, so... Thanks for that."

"Of course, Dean. You know how to reach me... if you change your mind." Dean's heart did a somersault in his chest at that, and then the angel was gone.