Angel With a Shotgun

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Song request!

Set after the Metatron thing.

845 words

*Gender Neutral

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You can't remember the last time you saw Cas like this. Jaw clenched, knuckles white, eyes hard as he sits hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees and stares at nothing. He's on the sofa, the brand-spanking new shotgun sitting on the coffee table. Or rather, it's new to him. Dean had gotten the new one and passed his old one down to Cas. Your brow crinkles with concern for the ex-angel as you approach him cautiously, unsure of his current temperament and potential reaction to your presence.

"Sooo..." You start awkwardly, searching for the perfect way to phrase the oncoming pep talk. You take a seat side-saddle on the arm of the sofa, a placing a comforting hand across Cas's tense shoulders. "Would you consider yourself a saint or a sinner?"

Cas's brow crinkles at the question, and he blinks, his head turning towards you just slightly. "What?"

"It's a simple question. Are you a saint or a sinner?"

"I don't-"

"Look, Cas." You hop down from your perch and plop down on the coffee table, blocking his obsessed view of the weapon on the coffee table. "I can tell you're thinking about it. We've all been there. 'Why can't I be perfect? Why can't I be like him?' Or her. Or whoever." Cas's eyes dart away from you further, but you grip his chin gently, forcing him to look at you. "Cas, you're human now. So you have to start acknowledging what the rest of us have known since birth."

His eyes stop darting around your face and finally meet your, which are now filled with intensity as you desperately try to get him to understand. "You. Are. Not. Perfect. You never will be. And you can either embrace that or wallow in it for the rest of your mortal - yes, mortal - life. You made a mistake. Learn from it. Move on."

"This is bigger than me," he whispers, dropping his head as soon as you release it. "I hurt so many people, and heaven will never take me back."

"So what?" His eyes jerk up, indignant and slightly angry. How dare you, they bark. "Sorry, Cas, but you need to start carving out a life for yourself. Here."

His head drops in defeat again, and you know he's starting to see.

It sucks, but it had to be said. Heaven won't take him back. He fucked up. Bad. So now he has to accept it and move on, or it will eat him up. You sigh, seeing his pained expression at the thought of never seeing his home again.

"What are you fighting for?" you ask softly, gently taking one of his white-knuckled hand and smoothing it into relaxation.

"What do you mean?" he asks, traces of his signature confused face taking hold of his features.

"They say before you start a war, you gotta know what you're fighting for. So..." you gesture, letting him fill in the end of the question.

His eyes slide away from yours, this time with thought rather than shame or guilt. His brow furrows as you wait patiently to hear the answer to the question. It's important, possibly the most important and valuable question you can ask a soldier. Justice. Peace. Safety. Whatever it is, it has to be there, it has to be in the back of his brain, shoving him forward whenever he tries to think he can't do it. You don't take down legions of angels because you should. You take them down because you have to in order to protect-

"This," Cas says simply. He takes your other and pulls you into a standing position, and you to gasp slightly in surprise at his sudden fervor. His eyes never once waver from your. "This house. Us. This life we built together. This This what I'm fighting for."

Your eyes scan his, taking in the abrupt passion and fire in them and smile. "That's my boy," you whisper.

He smiles back, excited. "I love you, (Y/N)," he tells you firmly. "And I'm not going to let those bastards ruin what we have."

"Those 'bastards' are your brothers and sisters," you remind him.

Cas shakes his head. "Not anymore," he tells you, before seizing the back of your neck and kissing you. The kiss surprises you at first, but of course, you eventually succumb contentedly to his familiar lips.

When he finally pulls away, you're a little dazed by his fit of passion, but Cas doesn't say a word either. He simply grins and grabs his shotgun from behind you, determination written across his features.

Despite Cas's intimidating stature, you can't help but giggle. "What?" he asks, clearly disappointed at his lack of stoic effect.

"It's like that song. Angel with a shotgun," you sing. "Fighting 'til the war is won."

"What?" he asks, making his head tilting.

"Nothing," you sigh, a good-natured smile nudging your cheeks as you place a hand on his shoulder and lead him towards the door. "C'mon," you tell him. "Let's go kick some ass."


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I'm sorry if this makes zero sense.

Hope you like.

Thank you so much for 3k reads and 1k votes. I'm geeking out. Honest to god

Love

~Faulcn


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