Song-Based One Shots

Redemption (Supernatural)

"The plan changed, Dean. Something went wrong. You know this, something always goes wrong."

"Yeah, and why does that always seem to be you?"

Cas was stunned. He and Dean had fought before, but never like this. Dean had never said something like that before, and he's said some pretty harsh things in the past.

"You used to trust me, give me the benefit of the doubt. Now you can barely look at me." The angel took a shuttering breath. "My powers are failing, and—and I've tried to talk to you, over and over, and you just don't want to hear it. You don't care. I'm... dead to you. You still blame me for Mary."

All Dean did was nod and Cas had to fight back tears.

"Well, I don't think there's anything left to say." The angel turned to leave.

"Where are you going?" Dean questioned like he had any right to know.

Cas swallowed, but didn't turn around. "Jack's dead. Chuck's gone. You and Sam have each other. I think it's time for me to move on."

Each step up the stairs felt heavier than the last. But he knew he had to keep going. He didn't know what would happen if he stopped, and he wasn't sure he wanted to.

"Wait," a voice called out from behind him. Cas was honestly expecting and kind of hoping Dean would let him go. Part of him was glad Dean had called out, had all but said he wanted him to stay. But another part of him, a bigger part, knew that he should keep walking up those steps, to keep going and never look back. He knew that staying here wasn't good for him, never was. That it could lead to something worse, though he didn't know what could be worse than losing his son and the only true family he'd ever had.

But, against his better judgment, Castiel stopped halfway up the bunker steps.

"I'm sorry, man."

Cas let out a weak, sad chuckle. Sorry? He was sorry? "Well, I tried, and I'll never try again," he spoke, turning around to look the hunter in the face. "Your betrayal runs deeper than blood." Cas then dug around his pockets 'till he found what he was looking for. "We are not friends," the angel spat as he chucked the item at Dean, hitting him directly in the center of his chest with unnecessary force.

After scrambling to catch it, Dean took a moment to look at what Cas threw at him.

It was a cassette tape, labeled "Dean's Top 13 Trax," a gift he'd given the angel not long ago. The fact he carried that with him made the hunter's heart flutter.

Then it occurred to him that the cassette had just been chucked at him accompanied by the words "we are not friends."

"You just take, then take what's left. Leave me desperate and longing for answers, longing for rest.

Dea was stunned. He knew he had anger issues and he hurt those closest to him with his words, but Cas had always stuck with him, through thick and thin. Not only was he now trying to leave, but he also sounded dejected, tired. Like the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders.

"Well, I've walked alone before, and I'll do it again. Where your footprints once laid right by mine is now emptiness." Cas climbed the rest of the stairs to the platform by the door and rested his forearms on the railing. "Remember this day. Remember the words you've chosen." He wiped the tears from his face, ignoring the heartbroken look on the hunter's face. "And I hope it kills you inside every day, 'cause inside I'm broken." Cas turned around and left, the door slamming closed behind him.

The moment he was alone, Dean grabbed the nearest object—which happened to be a chair—and threw it across the room, the wood splintering into tons of pieces.

He knew he'd messed up. He messed up bad. But there was one thing he knew for certain, and he knew Cas knew it, too. No matter how far apart they were, no matter how mad at each other they were or how bad Dean had messed up, Cas would always come when Dean called. Always.

Dean sighed and began picking up the bigger pieces of the chair, unable to leave it be.

Both his relationship with his angel and his mental state were a mess, but he wouldn't let his home reflect that.