Joyful Noise
It was Christmas, of course, it was snowing, and Sam's newly returned soul shone so brightly that Dean could almost see it. It was as if Sam had been color-blind for a long, long time, and now he was gazing on a world made new.
Dean shook his head, ready to blame the cold for the tears that threatened to re-appear. He'd used that excuse three times already, but it would do again. He wasn't budging on that one.
"This reminds me of Jimmy's neighborhood." Castiel remarked.
They were just strolling, needing a walk after the huge dinner the Winchesters had consumed at a small Italian restaurant. They had stopped at a small suburban outdoor mall, instead of a back roads diner, just suddenly in the mood for nice.
Castiel had joined them, and he hadn't seemed in any big hurry to get back to the civil war in heaven, this time.
"Where is Jimmy these days, anyway?" Dean asked. He had known for some time that only Castiel now inhabited the familiar vessel.
"He went to his reward the first time Raphael smote me. He is at peace and awaiting the day his family joins him." Castiel sighed, probably at the word "peace", Dean thought.
"This is so, so f-f-beautiful." Sam said suddenly. He paused to take in the sight of the snow-covered landscape, the Christmas decorations twinkling on the homes, the cheerful inhabitants returning from work or shopping, calling greetings to each other.
A month ago, Dean thought, Sam would have only seen the nuisance of the snow, the absurdity of decorations, sneered at the uselessness of cheer.
He refrained again from hugging his restored brother. He had to stop doing that. He gripped the insides of his coat's pockets. He would be so glad when Sam started irritating him again. Although his recent avoidance of certain words was almost doing the trick.
"How long do you think it'll be before you're swearing again?"
"A while"
Sam suddenly pointed. "Look Dean, carolers."
A half a block away, a small group stood in front of a house, their voices warbling "Away In A Manger".
Castiel cocked his head, observing the ritual closely. Suddenly, and swiftly he strode toward the group. Sam and Dean exchanged a surprised, puzzled glance before trailing after him.
The carolers had paused, to find their places in their hymnals, and Castiel stopped behind one of them, a young woman in a heavy red
Christmas sweater. She glanced at him, smiled, and held the songbook so he could share it.
He looked over it quickly, and when they began "Hark, the Herald Angels Sing" he joined in.
Castiel had a pitch-perfect tenor voice, rich and vibrant but not over-bearing, and the others gave him admiring glances without wavering on their song.
"Holy cr—cow" Sam breathed. "Did you know he could sing like that?"
"I did not." Dean wondered what that voice would sound like belting out "Highway To Hell" and at the same moment knew he would never have the guts to ask.
So not the time of year to ask for a smiting.
The occupants of the house came out to distribute hot chocolate and cookies, and Castiel politely took the refreshments, and then handed them to Dean.
Dean shared with Sam, and listened to the other carolers compliment
Castiel, who thanked them for allowing him to join in.
"Just a few more houses" They begged, when Castiel attempted to leave.
"Just a few more" He agreed, smiling.
"Here" The girl in the red sweater opened the hymnal "Please do a solo on the first verse, then we'll join in."
Castiel paused, then, as if the temptation was too great, nodded.
It was unearthly, the beautiful voice that came from their friend. It seemed the rest of the world went silent around it. Dean could remember hearing "It Came Upon a Midnight Clear" but it was as if he was noticing the words for the first time.
"From angels bending near the earth,
To touch their harps of gold:
"Peace on the earth, goodwill to men
From heavens all gracious King!"
The world in solemn stillness lay
To hear the angels sing."
Cas was not only singing it, it was as if he was remembering it, the conviction in his voice bringing vivid pictures to his listeners' minds. A song about angels sung by an angel—and in all the weird and mind-blowing things Dean had been through, this would go on the top ten list.
At first, the rest of the carolers seemed stunned, then inspired, and as they joined in, Castiel gave them a grateful glance. It was as if they had granted him a favor he had longed for.
"Still through the cloven skies they come,
With peaceful wings unfurled;
And still their heavenly music floats"
And for the first time, the Winchesters saw Castiel joyful.
An hour later the group broke up. Sam and Dean had trailed along, taking whatever refreshments offered, entranced as everyone else by Castiel's voice.
"Join us tomorrow" The girl begged.
"I'm afraid I must leave town tonight." Castiel said.
Damn, thought Dean. This is the first time he'd actually known Castiel to be having a good time on earth.
"You read music very well" The girl was saying "I'm surprised you needed the book, though."
"English is not my first language" Castiel replied. He made no objection to her giving him a hug.
Dean wouldn't have objected, either, she was pretty cute—but all he and Sam received was a friendly good-bye wave.
"So" Dean said, after they were back at their hotel room (again, nice, in honor of Sammy's soul) "Are all angels great at singing?"
Castiel stood near the small table where they sat, and took a sip of the drink Sam had handed him.
And, Dean noticed with envy, hadn't blinked at Sam's version of eggnog, which consisted of whiskey faintly colored with yellow.
"Most are. I was, however, chosen to be one of the heralds. It was a great honor."
"The herald angels—you mean the ones that were—there?" Sam downed his eggnog quickly and poured himself and Dean another.
"Yes" Castiel eyes were distant. "Over two thousand years ago. It wasn't this time of year, of course, it was spring—Christians have incorporated many pagan customs into this holiday—the tree for instance, the mid-winter feasting."
"Tell us about it" Dean muttered, remembering very well a Christmas not too long ago.
"It was still cold at night" Castiel went on reminiscing "but very beautiful, the air so clean and bright—earth doesn't have air like that anymore-the stars blazing, the poor shepherds wet themselves with fright in the beginning—but we were never better, the universe echoed with our music. We were so joyful with our Father's gift for mankind...
He paused. "It has been a long time since the Host has raised their voices in praise of our Father."
Castiel placed his plastic cup on the table.
Again, he sang.
This time, the Winchesters were unfamiliar with the song, as well as the words, since Castiel sang in Enochian. But it was obvious that the angel had been holding back before. He didn't look at them, but at some faraway place only he could see in his mind's eye.
Now his voice was tinged with a glorious golden light, echoing with notes that sounded like they were drawn from a gossamer harp, radiating triumph, joy and peace—
A rustle of feathers, and he was gone.
Sam and Dean sat there, stunned. The silence seemed an ugly thing, now, a hole where beauty had been.
"Well" Dean said finally. "He still sucks at good-byes."
"Dude, he was about to cry."
"Really?" Dean tried to remember if he had ever seen Castiel cry, but his mind was fuzzy with whiskey. He jolted up suddenly.
"You don't think he's turning human again?"
"No" Sam said. He looked ready to cry himself. "I think he was remembering what it used to be like, being an angel."
We are not turning into girls, Dean thought. It is not happening.
"You think we could get him to sing some AC/DC some time? Now that would be a helluva concert."
Sam looked at him, sadness dissolving into annoyance.
"You jerk—why would he want to do that?"
"You bitch" Dean said. Joyfully.