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It's a situation as familiar as breathing to Dean: driving along the highway, a classic rock tune blasting out of the radio while Sam stares out the passenger window and Cas is slouched in the back seat. Dean is singing, off-key, at the top of his lungs. As he pauses to take a breath, a soft sound coming from the backseat makes him stop for a second with a look of confusion on his face. He reaches out and turns the music way down, and suddenly he can hear what it was: Cas singing softly along to the song. He continues for a few bars then stops once he realises the volume’s gone way down. He meets Dean’s eyes in the rearview mirror, tilting his head to one side, and says, “Dean. Turn it up?”
Dean is speechless for a moment, then grins and says, “sure, Cas.” He cranks it back up, still grinning, as the Impala roars off towards the horizon, music blaring.
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Dean couldn’t get Cas’ voice out of his head. The song he’d been singing had been quite cheesy, but something in the way Cas had been singing it had made it touch Dean in a way he’d never admit to out loud. Dean finds himself watching Cas out of the corner of his eye when there’s music playing wherever they are, just in case Cas starts singing again. But apparently Cas doesn’t sing much cause Dean never catches him doing it after that first time in the Impala.
One night, when Sam is at a bar and Dean is catching up on some sleep while Cas amuses himself on Sam’s laptop, Dean starts tossing and turning, obviously in the throes of a Hell flashback. Cas pads over to the bed and gently shakes him awake, whispering, “Dean. Dean wake up. It’s okay.” Dean starts awake, choking on a strangled yell, tears welling in his eyes as he looks around in panic. Cas keeps a steadying hand on his shoulder, to let Dean know that he’s in a motel with Cas and not in Hell doing things best forgotten.
“Oh God, Cas,” Dean half-sobs, still partly caught up in the memories, “is it over?”
“Shhhh, Dean,” Cas soothes gently, shifting them both so that he sits with his back leaning against the headboard with Dean laying down partly in his lap, and wraps his arms around Dean.
“Cas… sing to me?” Dean asks, voice trembling slightly.
Cas knows that Mary used to sing Hey Jude to Dean as a lullaby, but something compels him to sing a different song, altering the lyrics to suit as he goes along.
Spend all your time waiting
For that second chance
For a break that would make it okay
There’s always some reason
To feel not good enough
And it’s hard at the end of the day
You need some distraction
Oh beautiful release
Memories seep from your veins
Try to be empty
And weightless and maybe
You’ll find some peace tonight
In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold motel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your haunting reverie
You’re in the arms of an angel
May you find some comfort here
So tired of the straight line
And everywhere you turn
There’s vultures and thieves at your back
And the storm keeps on twisting
You keep on building the lies
That you make up for all that you lack
It don’t make no difference
Escaping one last time
It’s easier to believe in this sweet madness oh
This glorious sadness that brings me to my knees
In the arms of an angel
Fly away from here
From this dark cold motel room
And the endlessness that you fear
You are pulled from the wreckage
Of your haunting memory
You’re in the arms of an angel
May you find some comfort here
You’re in the arms of your angel
May we find some comfort here
Dean smiles, eyes long-since closed, and slips into sleep with Cas’ arms around him.