The night Dean Winchester was pulled out of hell by the angel Castiel, every angel could hear his cry of joy. It started slowly, and spread like wild fire. The passion behind his statement left shivers in every angel's spine. It filled every angel's body and Grace to the brim, threatening to spill over. The voice that was usually so deep was booming with power and love.
"DEAN WINCHESTER IS SAVED."
It successfully quieted every single angel's thoughts in seconds. It could be heard even in the farthest of places, the most remote of corners. I could hear it, ME. The angel of silence. I created silence, I am silence. And even that statement pushed past all of my boundaries and filled my head until I felt like I was going to burst.
It started in my toes, pins and needles that tickled up my calves into my thighs. I was shaking before it reached the bottom of my spine, and by that time everything was warmed. I felt like I was on fire when it started to claw its way up my spine. The passion behind Castiel's voice reached my heart and made it beat incredibly fast.
I felt paralyzed when I heard the joyous singing afterwards, the excited cries of all other angels. The air had escaped me, leaving my lungs gasping for a breath. My eyes had closed on their own accord, my mouth gaped open and my ears straining to hear the beautiful cries of my brothers and sisters. By the end, my fingers tingled and my Grace stretched upwards.
Perhaps it lasted for hours, perhaps only a few seconds. But in that time, I have never loved their sounds more. Usually I am one for complete and utter tranquility, but Castiel made me appreciate the power of a few words.
I have never felt joy like that, and I very much doubt that I will feel something similar again. Words are not enough to describe what it was like, the feeling of love that just exploded behind my heart.
****************** 10 YEARS LATER ***********************
I remember clearly the feeling of love from Castiel's declaration. I remember how surprised I was that it could reach me even in my solitude of silence. I know how many angels were awoken by the cries of Castiel. Honestly, that was the not the beginning of my life, but the climax of it. I used to cover myself in a shroud of nothingness. But now I let small whispers of sound in every now and then.
Only a sliver of sound could break through my wall of silence but it would remind me of the joy that I felt from Castiel's message. I surrounded myself with trees, plants, anything that would whisper when the wind strolled through it. I was beautifully bliss, completely separated from my brothers and sisters.
I didn't mind, this is what I wanted and who I am. But when I heard Castiel's anguished cries, I wished that I was not alone. Because alone meant that I had to feel everything Castiel felt at full volume.
It started slowly, like last time, in my toes. It was cold, like nothing I had ever felt, an empty feeling that began to fill me. This dread that was feeling me was beyond sadness, it was complete heartbreak and despair. The cry stopped me in my tracks from where I was traversing my garden.
The crack in Castiel's voice broke through all of my walls, flooding my ears with noise from the angel radio. When everyone was pierced with the miserable cry, everything quieted. For a moment, there was complete silence among the entire universe. You could hear a pin drop if anybody had the guts to make a sound.
It was a moment before Castiel's broken voice came through again. His voice was rough from screaming, everything in him begging to be comforted. His voice cracked when he spoke, raw with emotion. Every angel ever had their ears on, listening to the woes of the angel that fell for a man.
"Dean Winchester is dead."
In that moment, everything I knew was torn down. I felt the heart that was threatening to explode with joy burst into flames. I fell to my knees, my body no longer strong enough to hold me up. Curling in on myself, I shivered in despair. After a few moments of silence, angels began to fly toward the broken sobbing that had once again started up.
My head craned up to the sky, and I listened to the sounds of my brothers and sisters. All of them were screaming in pain, flying to Castiel and weeping over the dead body of Dean. I wanted to be with them, I suddenly thought. It was strange, this feeling of despair that was mixed with a feeling of loneliness.
I stood, stretching my blue wings behind me and preparing to take flight. I flew, as fast as possible to where I knew Castiel would be. Meeting my brethren in the air, we all flew together to him. Hand-in-hand, tears were streaming down our faces as we flew.
When I landed, what I saw amazed me. Angels that I didn't even know where surrounding Castiel as he clutched the lifeless body of Dean. I stepped forward and raised my wings blocking the sun from hitting his dirty trench coat. I knelt down with my wings still up and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.
Other angels surrounded us, raising their wings high into the sky. Together, we covered Castiel and Dean from the harsh sun, each of us with tears on our faces. An angel behind me was the first to let a sorrowful song leave her lips. Castiel's sobs quieted as he buried his head into Dean's neck and listened to the song.
I joined soon after, singing a song that felt foreign to me. So much sound was strange, something that I was not used to. But I was willing to diverge from my normality to comfort the fallen one. I looked around at the angels, finding that thousands had joined us.
Colorful wings were raised into the air, feathers spread like fingers reach for the sun. A song of despair filled the air, moving in flow with the wind. Separated for thousands of years, the angels were together again. We surrounded Castiel, feeling him with soft caresses and whispering touches. Together, as a whole, we became a family again.
The day Dean Winchester was saved was the climax of my life. But the day Dean Winchester died was the day my life ended. After being filled with such sadness, I no longer feel anything. Before, the silence was comforting, but now it only feels like a prison. It presses down on me, suffocating me with nothingness.
The death of Dean Winchester was the death of me.