Destiel One-shots

YOU SHOT ME.

Cas was nearly done with his shift when the station got a call.

"Holy Shit!" One of the officers declared. "We got a tip off about a Hunters Meeting down at the burger joint on 5th!"

Cas paused. This was the part of the job he hated. When the police got one step ahead, and it was too risky to warn Dean.

"Novak!" Someone called. "Get down there with the rest of the backup."

By the time Cas got to the scene, they had already stormed the restaurant, and members of the Hunters were running out and firing at the cops.

"Open fire!" Someone called, and the cops shot back, trying to stop as many of the gang members as they could. Cas scanned the members worriedly, but he didn't see any sign of Dean.

"Novak, on your six!" An officer warned. Cas whipped around, only seeing the metal flash of a gun and clothes before he pulled the trigger.

There was a pained cry as the man dropped to the ground, clutching his leg, and Cas's eyes widened as he recognized the wounded man.

"Oh, I'm never gonna here the end of this," Cas face-palmed as Dean started swearing.

The cops rounded up as many of the members as they could, but Dean and a couple other guys managed to stumble away. 

Cas snagged a copy of all the newest prisoners mugshots. He'd bring them back to Dean later, to see if any of them were vitally important to the gang and had to be dealt with.

Cas bit his lip anxiously as he stared at his half written report, wondering if Dean was okay. It wasn't like the mobster could go to a hospital- his wanted sign was plastered everywhere. 

"Novak!" Cas looked up, only to see the Chief of Police grinning at him. "Some of the boys said you got a shot on Dean Winchester. Well done."

"We didn't catch him," Cas said ruefully.

"Yeah, well he can;t get too far with a bullet in his leg." The Chief commented. "We'll track him down. Nice work."

"Thanks," Cas half smiled, and then went back to his report, his worrying intensified.

Seven o'clock finally rolled around and Cas went home, opening the door to his and Dean's apartment.

There was blood coating the floor, a chair was overturned, there was a discarded gun on the ground, and there were blood soaked rags in a trail leading towards the bathroom. The fridge was open, and Cas noted that a bottle of whiskey was missing from it.

He cautiously opened the door to the bathroom, only to hear the click of a gun as Dean pointed a glock at him, a death glare on his face.

His leg was bandaged, but blood was slowly soaking through it. A pair of bloody tweezer scissors lay on the floor next to a small bullet. A now half empty bottle of whiskey was clutched loosely in Dean's other hand as he raised an eyebrow at Cas.

Cas leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, and half smiled.

"So," He said casually. "How was your day?"

"YOU FUCKING SHOT ME! THAT'S HOW MY DAY WAS!" Dean yelled back.

"Now now," Cas insisted. "You're fine."

"Fuck you." Dean declared, lowering the gun and scowling. 

"Love you too." Cas smiled. He crouched down beside Dean, examining the bandage. "Oh, next time you get shot, can you try not to bleed all over the floor? It stains the wood."

"I hate you."

"You left the fridge open too- that'll burn out the battery."

"Fuck your fridge."

"We're going to have to change the wrapping on this," Cas admitted.

"Well, I wouldn't have to do that if you hadn't SHOT ME." Cas gave him a deadpan look.

"Drink your whiskey."He ordered, grabbing some fresh bandages and fixing the dressing. Dean took a swig of the liquor and plastered on a smile.

"How was your day, honey?" He said sweetly and sarcastically.

"Not too bad," Cas admitted. "I shot a really hot guy though."

"Yeah? You arrest him?"

"Nah, he disappeared, but the police know he can't get far, so they're on a sharp lookout. He should probably wait until things die down before he goes outside again."

"Well maybe he needs to meet with his gang friends to let them know what he's not dead, and not arrested."

"Well maybe he can send his gang friends an email instead." They glared at each other.

"You know," Dean commented, taking another swig of whiskey. "We must really love each other to put up with all this shit."

"I know." Cas agreed. "And you're lucky you're cute."

"You're lucky I didn't shoot you back."

"Yeah, well, you stabbed me."

"That was two years ago!"

"And it HURT! Now we're even!"

"Stabbing and shooting are NOT even!"

"Okay fine, then in the next shootout, you shoot me, and I'll stab you."

"See now that's fair."

"How is that fair?"

"Because it is, and I'm right!"

"No you're not!"

"I'm the guy with a bullet in his leg, therefore, I'm right."

"And I'm the guy with the handcuffs who could get you a life sentence, therefore I'm right." Dean raised an eyebrow and smirked.

"So you wanna arrest me, huh?" He asked. Cas's reply was to slap the spot where the bullet had shot me, causing Dean to yelp in pain.

"Clean up your bloody mess," Cas insisted. "I'll go make dinner."

"Fuck you." Dean declared.

"Love you too dear!"