He glances over at the uniform on the back of the door. Target, huh? He looks back at you, studies your face for a while. This is where they've ended up. You, Castiel, angel of the Lord, living in a ramshackle shed, drinking cheap whiskey and stocking shelves at Target. Him—well, he was never anything as glamorous as an angel of the Lord. But he used to be better than this. He used to be that kid in the picture next to your bed, cocky and self-assured, if not self-confident. Convinced that his action had meaning. He misses that. He misses both of them.
"You should." He shifts forward to the edge of the bed, rests the heels of his hands against it. Finds your eyes. "Here's the deal, Cas. My life's not awesome right now. You just got out of an apocalypse, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to get right back into one. You've got—" He gestures at your room. "—this. You've got a job. If you wanna stay . . ." He trails off, watches you. This is your life, Cas. He doesn't want to tell you to come with him if what he can offer you isn't necessarily better. Shrugs a little.
"But I could use you. We could. We just—" —lost someone. Lost a friend, an invaluable asset, a core member of their team. He swallows. "We're spread pretty thin. We could use your help."
His heart is beating in his throat, making it hard to swallow. Your life isn't awesome, but your life doesn't involve monsters. Doesn't involve the pressure of constant imminent global destruction unless you sacrifice everything to save the world. He doesn't want to put that pressure on you. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't need you. A friend, another pair of hands on deck. Most of the houses they squat in actually come with running water. So maybe that's an upside?
no subject
"You should." He shifts forward to the edge of the bed, rests the heels of his hands against it. Finds your eyes. "Here's the deal, Cas. My life's not awesome right now. You just got out of an apocalypse, I wouldn't blame you if you didn't want to get right back into one. You've got—" He gestures at your room. "—this. You've got a job. If you wanna stay . . ." He trails off, watches you. This is your life, Cas. He doesn't want to tell you to come with him if what he can offer you isn't necessarily better. Shrugs a little.
"But I could use you. We could. We just—" —lost someone. Lost a friend, an invaluable asset, a core member of their team. He swallows. "We're spread pretty thin. We could use your help."
His heart is beating in his throat, making it hard to swallow. Your life isn't awesome, but your life doesn't involve monsters. Doesn't involve the pressure of constant imminent global destruction unless you sacrifice everything to save the world. He doesn't want to put that pressure on you. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't need you. A friend, another pair of hands on deck. Most of the houses they squat in actually come with running water. So maybe that's an upside?