Author's Note: I told myself I would limit myself to the fanfictions that are already posted, and wait to write new ones. But one of my favorite Tumblr blogs (isaisanisa) mentioned that she would love to see a cross-over with Supernatural and the Phantom of the Opera. Considering PotO is one of my favorite musicals, I just had to. The creative bug bit me, and I couldn't stop writing. So, enjoy!
Author's Note: Also, the lullaby is one I stumbled upon through a Google search. It's called "All Through the Night."
Prologue
Chagny, France – 1857
"Winchester?"
"Do you think they're related to that American composer?"
"Such a tragedy. To lose both parents at such a young age…"
"The sons of Mary and John Winchester? Oh, the music world weeps at the loss of such great talent."
Sam Winchester curled in against himself and leaned heavily against his brother, Dean. He just wanted all the people to go away. He wanted all the talking to stop. He wanted silence, so that he could cry in peace without anyone else judging him for doing so. Sam knew his parents were gone—he wasn't stupid, after all—and he was tired of all the condolences, of the repetition of it all, of the pitiful glances that the adults were casting towards the two brothers. Stop. Just stop. Shut up. Stop.
The young brunet suddenly felt his brother's hands grab at his own, and Sam only just then realized that he had been clenching his small hands into fists, that his nails had been digging into his palm to the point that he had drawn blood. He relaxed his hands enough to allow his brother to clean them.
"What do you think will happen to them? Will they go back to America?"
"The Populaire may keep them in Paris. You know they always take in orphans for the ballet and the chorus."
"But the poor things aren't French."
"Their father knew the ballet master at the Populaire. I'm sure he'll take care of them."
Sam looked up at Dean. "Are they talkin' about Uncle Bobby?" he asked in a small voice.
His brother nodded a little bit.
For the first time all day, hope ballooned in the young boy's heart. "That's good, right?" he asked, trying hard not to sound too earnest. "At least they won't try to send us to stay with strangers."
"Well, we don't know that for sure. What if the opera house don't want us?'
"But…what else are they supposed to do?"
Dean's shoulders lifted and dropped in a small shrug. "I can't say. For all we know, they'll send us back home."
"But we haven't got any relatives back home. It was always only us, and Mother and Father."
Dean shrugged again. "I suppose all we can do is wait."
Sam fell silent, recognizing that his brother didn't want to talk about their uncertain future. It was very likely that Dean was just as worried as Sam, if not more so. With a soft sigh, Sam curled up into a ball against his brother once more.
x.x.x.x.x
"I don't see why you can't just stay here with us," Gabriel Novak announced, a small pout pulling at his mouth as he watched Sam pack his single, tiny satchel.
"Your mama isn't our relative. She isn't allowed to keep us here."
Gabriel huffed. "But that man that teaches ballet isn't your relative, either. Besides, I'm sure that Mama would adopt you. Cassie was saying that he wants you and Dean to stay with us, as well. It's not just me that's upset!"
"I'm sorry, Gabriel, but I can't stay."
"I don't want you to go," the young noble insisted.
Sam smiled faintly. "As stubborn as ever…" He looked at Gabriel, turning away from his satchel. "If it makes you feel better, I will miss you. I wish I didn't have to go, either."
Gabriel seemed to brighten a little bit. "You don't?" he asked, as if the fact that Sam was beginning to doubt his decision would somehow help in convincing the brunet to stay behind at the Novak estate.
Sam nodded. "Yet, at the same time, I do. We're being taken to the Paris, to the Opera Populaire."
"The opera house? Does that mean you'll start singing again?"
"I hope I can try," Sam admitted. "That's why I'm glad we're not returning to America."
"I'm glad, too. America would be too far away."
Sam looked at Gabriel quizzically.
"A-and I'm glad you'll have a chance at proper vocal training! You have a great voice, and I'm sure you'll become even greater with training available to opera stars," Gabriel added quickly.
"That's what I'm hoping for…"
"The next time I see you, you will be one of those great opera stars."
Sam laughed a little bit in embarrassment. "Well, thank you for your confidence."
There was a knock at the open door to announce Dean's presence. "Come on, Sammy. The wagon's here."
The youngest Winchester nodded and took up his satchel, slinging the bag over his shoulder.
"Sam," Gabriel called right before the brunet left entirely.
"Yes?"
"…Don't forget about me?"
A soft smile passed across Sam's face. "Only if you promise the same." And, with that, the two young boys parted.
x.x.x.x.x
"Alright. There are two cots in the corner over there. The other boys are at rehearsal, so you will have to wait to meet them," Bobby Singer explained as he showed the Winchester brothers the room that was reserved for the chorus boys and male dancers at the Populaire. "Go ahead and set your bags down, and I'll show you around the rest of the opera house."
Bobby watched the two boys quietly, noting that they had not been very talkative on the journey from Chagny to Paris, which the old dance master had noted was unusual, especially for Dean. However, he did suppose that the boys had yet to leave behind their grief and sorrow. The good Lord only knew how hard it had been for him to move on after the passing of his dear wife.
At the end of his tour of the opera house, Bobby brought the Winchester boys down to the chapel reserved for the residents, the stairs leading down to it hidden backstage.
Dean made a face when he realized where they were. "Uncle Bobby, I don't want to be here…" he murmured.
"Can I light a candle for Mother and Father?" Sam asked at the same time.
Bobby nodded. "Do you think you can find the way back?"
When Sam nodded, Bobby took Dean by the shoulder.
"Then I'll take your brother back up to meet the other boys. Don't take too long, you hear?"
Sam nodded again and watched as Bobby led Dean back upstairs. The young brunet then turned towards the rows of candles at the far end of the room, and went to pick up one of the unlit ones. He touched the wick to one of the already-burning flames and returned the candle to its initial place.
He watched the dancing flame for a few quiet moments before he bowed his head, closed his eyes, and joined his hands together in prayer.
"Mother…Father…I hope you are in a better place. And I hope you will continue to send angels to watch over us. Even if Dean doesn't believe in the angels anymore, please keep sending them. Especially the Angel of Music, just like you promised, Father."
In the shadows, hidden behind a weathered iron portcullis, Lucifer watched the strange and beautiful boy praying in the chapel. Angel of Music…
Softly, under his breath, Sam began to sing a lullaby that his mother would often sing before she would see him and his brother to bed. It was as if he were singing the song to ease his parents' souls into Heaven.
Sleep, my love, and peace attend thee,
All through the night;
Guardian angels God will lend thee,
All through the night,
Soft the drowsy hours are creeping,
Hill and vale in slumber sleeping,
In my loving vigil keeping,
All through the night.
Angels watching ever round thee,
All through the night,
In thy slumbers close surround thee,
All through the night,
They should of all fears disarm thee,
No forebodings should alarm thee,
They will let no peril harm thee,
All through the night.
Lucifer sighed a little under his breath. If anything, the child was an angel. While it was true that Karen, the late wife of the current ballet master, had been an angel in Lucifer's eyes for her willingness to rescue him from his cruel gypsy masters, the young boy before him was even more so. He sang so sweetly! And he was but a child! With the proper tutelage, and with time, the young boy would be a great star. All of Paris would be in love with voice just as Lucifer was.
As the boy turned towards the stairs that ascended into the world of light, Lucifer called out to the boy. Called out to his song.
"I am your Angel of Music."