Hello :) This is my first Supernatural fanfiction, though I have been a big fan of the show for quite some time now.
Each chapter will contain a song, and will revolve around it. The title of the chapter will be the title of the song featured in the chapter. I suggest the readers to search the song up in advance, and listen to it to have an idea of the mood of the chapter.
Every chapter is still be related with each other, and is in chronological order of events. There will be an overall plot, and this will still be a case based story, dealing mostly with Angels, just with songs featured. The timeline starts from the end of Season 6, and will be building my own story starting from there. Thus Castiel attained godhood, and Dean and Sam have to find a way to bring the friend back into his senses.
Welcome to my Tune It Up challenge, and hope you will enjoy your read! Please do review if time permits!
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its characters, and I do not own any songs and its lyrics that will be mentioned in this story.
Warning: Destiel pairing. Nothing fluffy though. It will either be smutty or romantic.
Chapter 1: Radios in Heaven
(song by Plain White T's)
The stench of vodka threatened to suffocate him as soon as he set a foot in the room. It was dark and damp as any other parts of the house were. The lights were dim, illuminating just enough for him to make Dean out sitting on top of the table, with countless bottles lying before him. Dean was staring out the window, his olive eyes glowing faintly with sorrow, lost in thought, time and alcohol.
"Dean…." He whispered softly, voice edged with worry and pity. He was not used to seeing his cocky and proud older brother like this. He wasn't sure what snapped in Dean, if it was losing Lisa or losing Cas that triggered it, but something in Dean was different. He was broken and sad, even worse than he was when he got back from hell.
"Sammy!" Dean exclaimed, masking his sorrow with his usual bravado. "Vodka? Or you can grab a beer if you prefer."
"Hey, what's wrong?" Sam inquired carefully, unsure of his brother's reaction. He was scared that his brother would just brush him off, explode with anger or worse, pretend that he did not hear a thing. Even though he knew Dean by heart, he was unsure how to comfort him without hurting his pride. Dean never openly showed his sorrow. He buried them under alcohol, work and girls. Even the day he parted with Lisa, he grabbed a bottle of beer, and pretended it was all going well.
"Don't. Just don't." Dean snapped, gulping down vodka along the way. Sam was standing by the doorway, not moving an inch. He was hurt, and Dean knew it. It was not right of him to snap at him like that, but he was also in no mood to play nice. He gave a sigh. Never in his life did he ever felt this lonely, even though now, he had Sam by his side once again. He felt the lost gravely, and without knowing, tears rolled down his cheeks.
"Dean…." Sam tried once again. "At least tell me what's wrong… Is it Cas? Lisa?" Dean gave out of hoarse chuckle, shaking his head in disgust. He sadly looked at Sam, giving a melancholy smile that meant thousands of things.
"It's July 19, Sam. July 19, 2011." Sam's eyes widen with realization, quickly tearing up as well. "It's been five years, damn it. Five freaking years."
Sam made his way to the table, finding a bottle of beer in the way. He was crying too by the time the first drop of the bitter alcohol teased his tongue, slowly making its way down his dry, lumping throat. It just has been too long and too hard for the brothers. It all just felt too fast, all too sudden, everything in a blur. He still regretted it now, as he did five years ago, but nothing could be done. It was too late, and anger surged in him once again. He needed something to blame, something to help him forget, something to make him feel better even for a second.
"Stop sulking and pass me the guitar." Dean teased, but his own was voice raspy from crying.
"Guitar?" Sam never knew Dean even owned a guitar, much more knew how to play it. For a split second, they both have forgotten their sorrow, and were enjoying the company of each other, finding warmth and hope in it. "You play the guitar?"
"I had a year. Shut up and pass it, will you?" He grinned, his usual seductive grin but this time, mixed with a knowing sadness. He played a few test notes, tuning the instrument with a delicate touch. Once all the notes hit the correct tone, he strummed the strings lightly to a gloomy tune he was all too familiar of.
"You got poor taste." Sam chuckled, leaning his back on Dean. His eyes closed, drowning in the notes as he waited for Dean's husky voice to sing along. Dean stared out to the darkness just beyond the window, closed his eyes as well, remembering the moments that he had learnt to miss and treasure. He held his breathe for a second, then sang out with his low husky voice the song that hummed his hurts and regrets, but as well as love that he had been holding unto for the past five years…
"Your time has already come and I don't know why
The last thing that I had heard
You were doin' just fine
It seems like just yesterday
I was laughing with you
Playing games at Grandma's house…."
The voice faded off to an echoing silence, as Dean gave a frown. "You know, I never even met Grandma." He gave Sam a playful wink, which was returned with a punch in the shoulder. Laughter filled the room, still edged with sadness, but never the less, laughter. The guitar once again strummed up the song, continuing where it faded off.
"Well, you taught me well, didn't you?
I hope I'm just like you
Do they have radios in heaven?
I hope they do
'Cause they're playing my song on the radio
And I'm singing it to you
You left before I had a chance to say goodbye
But that's the way life usually is
It just passes you by
But you can't hold on to regrets and you can't look back
So I'll just be thankful for the times that I had with you…."
Dean had to stop a moment to catch his breath. He was crying just too hard. He wished it was just that easy to let go of all the regrets, and what if's he had in his life. But sadly, it wasn't. His past was there to haunt him forever, and the best he can do is to stand tall and pretend that they never happened.
"I hope I'm just like you
Do they have radios in heaven?
I hope they do
'Cause they're playing my song on the radio
And I'm singing it to you
If they don't have radios in heaven
Here's what I'll do
I can bring my guitar when my time is up and I'll play it for you
Tell me can you hear me now
If not, then I can try to sing real loud
What's it like up on the other side of the clouds?
"Not that we do not know." Dean joked again, but tears freely fell from his eyes. He missed him more than anyone else. The song had hit home, as it had every other time, as if it was written for him.
"Stop joking and finish the song." Sam chuckled, his eyes still closed, but his cheeks as wet as Dean's.
"I hope I'm just like you….
I hope I turn out to be as good as you…."
