Ups and Downs

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Erg hi guys! So, a friend told me to write a fanfic where Dean and Cas first kiss and I doubt it came out the way she wanted it to but it IS their first kiss so I take no blame! This didn't turn out the way I planned it to and I don't really know how I feel about it but, hehe, I guess writer's always have their "ups and downs" huh? Ah, I'm sorry I did that. Anyway, I've been thinking, if any of you have a good idea for a oneshot that you want me to write, feel free to suggest it in the comments. I can't really write smutty stuff so that's probably not a good idea. But I'll try not to disappoint. Ah, I blab too much.

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Castiel was a good fighter, angel or not. It was harder to keep up the momentum and the agility he once had as a celestial being but all in all, he could still kick ass like no tomorrow.

Learning to use guns was one of his biggest challenges. He’d required them rarely before and never understood how to properly load or clean them. Being a human now required him to have to know these things and Dean and Sam did a good job of teaching him. He could now carry and operate a gun on his own without them worrying.

He was good with a gun but not the greatest, and he knew it. But give him a knife or a sword and one would hardly think he wasn’t still an angel. Yet, as good as he could still be there were times when he did very, very bad.

There were times when he forgot that he needed to get out of the way of an approaching knife, because simple weapons like it could hurt him now. There were times where the three of them needed to get somewhere quick and Castiel wondered for a couple seconds why Sam and Deam were heading determinedly to the Impala when he could just “zap” them there, before he remembered that he actually couldn’t.

Then there were times like now, when Castiel was in the middle of a fight with a demon and all thoughts were erased except for raising his palm to the demon’s head.

Castiel has his hand halfway up to the demon’s head when he remembered he couldn’t kill them like that anymore and his mind went blank for a second, his shotgun having been knocked out of the way a long time ago.

The demon gladly took advantage of this moment and knocked the fallen angel’s arm out of the way, punching him hard in the jaw. He staggered back and a couple more punches swiftly followed, then he was kicked to the ground and pinned to the floor as the demon’s hands wove around his throat, beginning to squeeze the life out of him.

Castiel was annoyed that his memory had gotten him into this situation, when Dean and Sam were in other rooms of the house and couldn’t help him. He tried to crane his head around and thought he saw a glimmer of something to his right. Taking one hand away from his frantic hold on the demon’s arms he reached out and felt something cold connect with his fingers. His gun.

Castiel played it out in his mind. He saw himself grabbing the gun and wacking the demon on the side of the head, then pumping the thing full of rock salt as he exercised it back to hell, the human way.

But he left his hand lying idle on the gun.

He could fight here and there but in the grand scheme of things he was basically useless. He couldn’t interview people on hunts, couldn’t make the same deductions that experienced humans could, he couldn’t cook, couldn’t wash his borrowed clothes, couldn’t drive, couldn’t use a laptop. He even still had trouble remembering exactly how to tie his shoes sometimes. He’d helped create a horrible fate for his siblings and they would never forgive him.

He stared at the gun as his vision began to blur.

Dying would mean he didn’t have to be a burden, meant that the angels might not come after Sam and Dean if their biggest target was gone, meant that he wouldn’t get the chance to screw things up again.

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