The Best Kept Secrets
Author's Note: For reference, the first part of this story is set during 5.22, Swan Song, up until the break. The second half is set just before 7.16, Out With the Old.
Dean would never admit this to anyone, but he had 5 sets of cassette tapes that he played all the time.
Sure, he listened to other songs. He had a whole collection of tapes, and radio was always an option. But time and time again, he was playing the same 5. Those were the songs he'd chosen for tonight, maybe because it was the last time he'd ever hear them.
They didn't know how they were going to come out of this. Either way… he knew, he knew Sam would never…
Well, no use dwelling on it. There was still plenty of time for the two of them to bail on the plan, and he didn't want to give himself the opportunity to do so. He knew how much they needed to do this, but that didn't stop the panic and anger from settling in the pit of his stomach.
He tuned out his own thoughts and ejected the current tape once the final chord died out, reaching for a new one. In his search, his eyes ghosted over Castiel's sleeping form in the back seat.
"Aw. Ain't he a little angel?"
Sam would never admit this to anyone, but he really didn't mind Dean's music much anymore.
Sure, it grated on his nerves when he'd turn it up just to block out Sam's point in a conversation, and definitely didn't appreciate it when he was trying to catch some much needed sleep. But as a whole, it'd just become another thing that he accepted as normal.
He'd lived the last 5 years of his life by these songs. And while he'd bought the iPod jack when Dean was in Hell for the specific purpose of listening to his own music, he never really got around to it. Half the iPod was loaded with mullet rock anyway.
Dean would have been even more worried about my mental state if he'd known I was listening to his music the whole time, Sam thought bemusedly, but even the lighthearted thought wasn't enough to bring him out of the heavy tension that clung to them in the car.
He knew what Dean was like without him- it had hardly taken any time at all for him to find that crossroad's demon. And he knew that Dean was going to try to bring him back. But what if the devil comes with me? His thoughts persisted, and he also knew better than to ignore him.
He barely registers the last note of the song fading away and his brother shifting in the seat. He opens his mouth, but he's unable to find a good way to bring the topic up. He's startled by Dean's voice cutting through the heavy silence.
"Aw. Ain't he a little angel?"
Lucifer hasn't left the building for the entire time Sam's been awake.
He settles into the seat of the Impala, still fighting to drown out the noise, fighting it by focusing on the music. He recognizes it as one of the same 5 tapes and smirks a little, despite himself.
Hearing the song, Hell's Bells, he's reminded of his stay in the Cage. He remembers the Devil singing the song he knew so well, so softly, as he pried Sam's still-beating heart from his chest with nothing more than his fingers.
The last song on the track, Fire of Unknown Origin, was hummed softly as Hell's flames consumed his flesh from the inside out. The first one, Thunderstruck, was lip-synched as chains wrapped and squeezed around Sam's neck, chocking and burning.
He remembers each instance as each song plays, of course. He glances over to Dean then, needing to see something that grounds him. His brother's staring at the road, fingers tapping out a rhythm on the steering wheel.
The sight brings a smile to his face. He can do this.
Lucifer's screaming again, but…
Yeah.
Sam would never admit this to anyone, but he really didn't mind Dean's music much anymore.
