Castiel and the Phantom of the Opera [Destiel]

Epilogue: Love Never Dies

Paris, 1903

          Sam Winchester stared at the music box in his lap and let out a small sigh. He remembered everything so vividly – the bodies of Meg and Castiel, the way Dean had sobbed for hours on end, his own agony over the loss of his good friend. Sam had managed to talk Gabriel and Zachariah about pressing charges against Dean saying that he was mentally unstable. While the owners were furious and demanded reparations for their theatre (which the Winchesters supplied from their own pockets), they agreed. About a week after Castiel’s death, Dean disappeared. Sam didn’t know where he went, what happened to him, or if he was dead or alive.

          Thirty-three years later, Sam was in his mid-sixties and was plagued with arthritis. The doctors said it was a result of many years of strenuous physical activity and that he would be bound to a wheelchair for the rest of his life. While devastated by the news, Sam was so grateful to have his beautiful wife, Jessica at his side. They had gotten married a few years after the disaster at the opera house. They had invited Dean to the wedding and though he did not formally appear, Sam could sense his presence throughout the service and the reception. He had been there, but just didn’t care to announce it.

          Jessica sat beside him now. The auction had ended about a half hour ago and the Winchesters were now in their carriage heading to the outskirts of Paris to visit a certain cemetery. Sam couldn’t help but smile as Jessica took his hand in hers. “How are you, darling?” he asked quietly.

          “I’ve been better,” he confessed. “I just . . . I can’t believe it’s been thirty-two years since it happened.”

          She nodded in agreement and stroked the back of his hand with her thumb. “I know you miss them – Castiel and your brother,” she whispered. “I know it hurts you to know that you couldn’t save either of them. But I don’t think they wanted to be saved, Sam.”

          He nodded, knowing there was truth in her words. “I know, Jess . . . I just wish I could have done more.”

          His wife leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek softly. “You did all you could – you did more than any other person would have.”

          The carriage came to a halt with a small jerk. Sam let out a deep breath and sat up a little straighter. The coachman opened the door to the carriage just moments later. With the help of the coachman and Jessica, Sam slipped into his wheelchair. He thanked them both and gave the coachman a few francs.

          Jessica instructed the coachman to wait for them to return and then wheeled her husband into the cemetery. It was the middle of January, and the ground was dusted with snow. The Winchesters were silent as they made their way to the grave of Castiel Novak. He was buried beside his father; Dean and Sam had paid for a large, grand headstone to mark his grave so it was difficult to miss. They had visited his grave many times, but they had rarely gone on the anniversary of his death.

          Today was the exception. Sam had been planning to visit the grave later in the week, but he knew that Castiel would want Dean’s music box.

          Sam blinked away tears as Castiel’s grave came into view. Even now, just seeing it made his chest ache. Oh, Castiel . . . he thought sadly. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you. Jessica pushed him up to the grave and put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

          The former choreographer put one of his hands over hers before pushing himself up using the armrests of the chair. Jessica rushed forward and grabbed his arm just to keep him steady if needed. Sam stiffly walked over to the headstone, his legs groaning in protest as he did so. His knees had been killing him for years, and walking never helped. When he reached the headstone, he used it to steady himself.

          Sam placed the music box on the base of the large marker and then paused, something catching his eye. He looked over and nearly fell over in shock at what he saw.

          A red rose was lying on the base of the headstone. Roses were odd enough to see in a cemetery let alone a red one. But that wasn’t the most stunning part about it.

          A black ribbon was tied around the dark green stem.

          Dean was still out there.

          And thirty-two years later, his love for Castiel Novak hadn’t faded; it would never die. Dean would never be able to get over the loss of the one human being besides his brother that had ever treated him with kindness. He would never forget that beautiful, blue-eyed angel that had been his muse for years.

          No, his love for his Angel of Music would never die.