*Note, this is not intended to offend anyone. Just a bit of fun. I'm Christian. This is a work of FICTION.

(Set back when Castiel was searching for God on Earth.)

Castiel didn't have a problem with humans. Other angels often thought of humans as vermin, always getting in the way, but Castiel chose to believe they were a special part of God's creation, meant to be treated with love and care.

Most of the time, at least.

He couldn't help but find them somewhat hindering when he was attempting to get things done. Finding God, for example, proved to be harder than he expected.

Christians, in the eyes of the angels, were a funny breed of human. Like hairless dogs or walking fish. They weren't quite an anomaly, but they were interesting enough. Some of them followed God and were better for it, but some of them used God as a reason to treat others poorly. And some, as Castiel would learn, were just plain annoying.

Particularly the Baptists.

Castiel respected most religious folk as much as he did other humans. He enjoyed the shared belief in God as the creator and Father of the universe. He felt they shared common ground, and that this somehow made them inherently closer in bond.

In this way, he thought they might be of help in his quest to find God.

Now, he was hesitant to pick a church to go into. He enjoyed the rigidity of some Catholic churches, but he had trouble understanding their cannibalistic beliefs. So he went into the other church open in the small town: the Baptist church.

"Can I help you?" asked a short, plump woman whose cherry red hair matched her lipstick.

"Uh, yes," Castiel said lowly. He leaned a bit closer, and the woman blinked expectantly. "I'm looking for God."

The woman beamed. "Well, you've come to the right place."

"Have I?" Castiel asked, looking around. "It doesn't appear so." He held out the amulet, waiting for it to burn in the presence of God. It did nothing.

The woman stared at the amulet and pursed her lips. "Where did you get that?" she asked, eyes narrowing.

"It belongs to my…friend, Dean." They were friends now, weren't they? He paused, then continued. "It will burn in the presence of God," Castiel explained plainly.

The woman gave a small cough. "That's nice," she commented. Castiel tilted his head. "This Dean…does he believe in God?"

Castiel frowned. "I don't know if he has a choice."

The woman squinted up at Castiel. She was growing impatient by his confusing and vague answers. "Everyone has a choice," she said with an air of finality. "It's called free will."

Castiel thought about this for a moment. "Not Dean. Dean is…different. He will be forced to let Michael enter him."

The woman's eyes widened. "Forced?" she stuttered.

Castiel nodded.

"Listen, young man, rape is no joke," she said, grabbing his shoulder. "It's wrong. Even for…well, you know…gays." She said the word almost as if spitting it.

Castiel furrowed his eyebrows. "I did not know it involved sexual penetration."

The woman gripped his trench coat. "You take me to this 'Dean' right now, so we can get him help."

Castiel frowned. He didn't know how he'd gotten in this position. He'd only meant to find God. But perhaps Dean was in need of help and Castiel hadn't noticed.

He took the woman's arm. With a gust of wind, they were in Bobby's house, staring at Dean, who was pouring himself some whiskey.

The woman screamed.

"What the-," Dean started, putting the whiskey down.

"Dean," Castiel said. "I brought you help."

"Look, lady," Dean said, putting his hands up as if contemplating touching her shoulders. He thought better of it. She stopped screaming but started mumbling things like 'impossible' and 'devil worship'.

Dean looked up at Cas. "Help for what?"

Castiel blinked, as if Dean was missing something obvious. "Sexual penetration."

Dean just stared.