This was originally an anon prompt on Tumblr - "Destiel - Dean has been down for a while and Cas wants to cheer him up. Domestic AU?" I didn't get the AU in, but I think it has a definite domestic feel to it.

Cas looked through the shop window, contemplating. He tilted his head to the side as he looked at the array of posters and records on display. He thought this might finally be exactly what he had been looking for, and he had been walking the streets of New Orleans for over two hours, without being sure what his end goal was.

He pushed the door to the shop open. A bell tinkled lightly, and then he was engulfed in the sounds of soft piano and sharp but muted trumpet. It was darker in here, and the shop extended deep into the building. Far deeper than he had expected at first glance. And the music seemed to extend into every niche, every nook and cranny in the store.

A middle-aged woman with gray streaks in her hair and glasses stood by a shelf, sorting through records. She coughed, turning her face into her arm.

There was no one else inside.

"Excuse me, Ma'am?" Cas said, approaching her.

"Sweetie, I feel old enough as it is without you calling me ma'am. I'm Cora," she said, wheezing. "And you're looking for something."

Cas was about to answer, but Cora continued.

"Something for a friend…" She peered at Cas, eyes misty gray. "Someone very dear to your heart, am I right? He's been-" Cora paused, frowning. "He's been sad lately. Distant? Something is weighing on his heart."

Castiel narrowed his eyes. The woman knew far to much for a music vendor. But then he looked again. He looked deeper. She had an aura about her. There was more to her than he had originally sensed. Of course, this was New Orleans. Maybe he should have expected it. And there was nothing sinister about her. On the contrary, she carried a goodness inside her. He nodded.

"Yes. I want to find something for his room. I thought it might cheer him up."

"His room, huh? You don't share it?"

Castiel shook his head, but he couldn't help the small smile. "No, not quite. He, uh, just moved in to a new place, and I think he would like something from here."

Cora smiled and stepped away from the shelf. "What's his favorite song?"

Castiel smiled. "He has two, actually. Ramble On and Traveling Riverside Blues."

Cora once again gave a him a shrewd look, peering at him over her glasses. "Uh-huh. And this is for his room, right?"

Cas nodded.

"Well," Cora began, smiling, "I think I have something he'd like." Cas followed her to the back of the shop. It was darker here, but the music followed them. Cora coughed again, violently this time. Cas waited for her to calm down.

"Here you go," she said, pulling something out of a case and handing it to Castiel. It was a guitar, shades of brown, with white enamel. He didn't know anything about guitars, so he couldn't say more than that, but on the front, in black ink-

"Is that-?"

Cora nodded. "Plant, Page and Jones, all right there. Jimmy used this guitar on their last tour in '75. Call it a hunch, but I think your friend would like it."

Castiel nodded. "Yes, I believe it would be appreciated."

In truth, Castiel was a bit awed. He knew how much this band meant to Dean. They were buried so deeply in his soul, that when he had raised him from Hell, put him back together, Led Zeppelin had been one of the last remaining bits of Dean left in him. Zeppelin, the Impala, and Sam. Castiel had built him back from there.

He wondered if this might help build Dean back up just a little bit more? It had seemed lately almost as if Dean had been - fading. Something was weighing him down. And it bothered Castiel that he didn't know what it was.

Cora was frowning at Cas now.

"Sweetheart, you aren't human, are you?"

Castiel shook his head. "No," he replied.

Cora nodded. "I can tell. There's a grace about you." Castiel almost laughed, because she didn't mean it in the true way, but probably couldn't help the phrasing. But then Cora clutched suddenly at her chest, heaving, gasping for breath.

The lights flickered, the music cut off, and everything went silent, just for a moment. The coughing stopped. Blue eyes met gray, and an understanding passed between them.

Robert Johnson began playing in the background.

"Blessings on you and yours and upon the sanctity of this place. You have a rare gift. May your Sight continue to guide you."

"Thank you," Cora replied, eyes wide. There wasn't a trace of a wheeze in her voice. "If you ever happen to stop here again, I would appreciate your patronage, and your company. I think we could talk for quite a few hours, you and I."

Castiel took the guitar in hand and vanished.

Later that night, Castiel sat in the hallway outside of Dean's room, listening to Dean play. That had been a surprise. He hadn't known Dean could play the guitar. He wasn't a virtuoso - the playing was rudimentary, but the music of it carried through the halls of the Men of Letters headquarters. Sam turned the corner, drawn by the melody, and leaned on the wall, listening as well. His face was pale, and drawn, but he looked at peace. Something was wrong there, something Castiel would have to examine more closely later. But for now Dean's soul shined a little brighter, if just for tonight, and they both basked in the glow.