…This plot bunny fell out of a Black Sabbath CD when I opened the case...


"Sing me a song, you're a singer..."

Castiel let out a small sigh.

"Do me a wrong, you're a bringer of evil..."

Dean was working on his car. Dean was happy. Dean was... singing.

"The devil is never a maker..."

For want of a better word. What he lacked in vocal finesse, he made up for with volume.

"The less that you give, you're a taker..."

Castiel liked music. He had heard the music of Heaven, the Choir singing unto his Heavenly Father. He had marvelled at Earthly voices too, from choirs in the grandest cathedrals of Europe, to a father singing to his giggling sons as they urged the herd back towards the village. Even some of the music that Dean insisted on playing in the Impala was skilfully, evocatively performed.

Dean was currently murdering one of those songs.

"Dean."

"Hiya Cas, how you guys doin' with that grimoire?"

"The translation is proceeding slowly. I have been dispatched to relay a request that you stop... singing."

"Why?"

"Bobby and Sam are finding the noise intrusive and distracting. Bobby told me to 'Get out there and stop him torturing that tone-deaf cat'. Sam professed that he would rather gnaw through his own radial artery than listen to your... singing."

"That's because they don't appreciate good music."

"I am also finding the noise intrusive and distracting."

"That's because you don't appreciate good music."

"Dean, I do appreciate good music. This is good music. Ronald James Padavona was an astonishingly talented vocalist. His version of it is most evocative. Your version is not."

"What?"

"Very few people are gifted with a truly aesthetically pleasing singing voice. You are a Hunter without equal. Your talents do not run so deeply towards the performing arts."

"What are you trying to say, Cas?"

"What I am trying to say, Dean, is that your True Voice is making my vessel's ears hurt, and I fear that it may be damaging my brain. Please stop defiling the memory of Mr Padavona."

"Well, sucks to be you, because I won't."

"Dean, I do not think that you realise exactly how... annoying your singing can be."

"I don't think you realise that I don't care."

"Dean, stop singing. You are defiling this song."

"And it's on and on and on..."

"Dean, the noise you make is truly appalling."

"Heaven and Hell..."

"Dean, I mean it. You are not Ronnie James Dio."

"The lover of life's not a sinner..."

Castiel was, by nature, a patient creature, not easily moved to aggravation. But some things would try the patience of an angel.

He clapped one hand over Dean's mouth, and his True Voice rang out.

"DEAN WINCHESTER BE SILENT!"

The ground shook. A window broke. A stunned pigeon fell from a tree. Dean's eyes bugged.

Sam wandered out of the house. "Hey Cas, did you... oh, good, you finaly got him to shut up." He checked at the stunned expression on Dean's face; the imprint of Castiel's hand was still quite clear. "Er, Cas, what did you do?"

Castiel put his hands in his pockets, looking a little sheepish about his outburst.

"I gripped him tight, quite crazed by his rendition."