Hurts Me Too

At the End of the War, There is Only You and I

 This is being cross-posted (?) on both ao3 & here cause I felt like it. So if you've seen this story ao3, fear not, because I am the beloved lljoel. Enjoy.

The drive to the work building was awkward. Dean was a lot more talkative than Castiel remembered. Dean explained what transpired from his time and what brought him to this future. Castiel listened as he drove. The former angel was unsure what to say as Dean spoke, so he remained silent. Eventually, Dean fell silent. Castiel glanced over at Dean and saw he was deep in thought.
"So, when did you learn how to drive?" Dean asked.
"I saw you do it enough times and did not think it would be too difficult," Castiel replied. Dean looked surprised for a second. He huffed a laugh and smiled at Castiel, and Castiel smiled back. He could not remember the last time he saw a genuine smile on Dean's face. The closest thing to a smile Dean ever did now was a bitter grimace. That thought wiped the smile off of Castiel's face. The other Dean looked out the window and began whistling. This drive was going to last for an eternity. 

When they arrived at the building, his Dean started barking orders. Castiel, Rita, and a guy Castiel did not catch the name of would go around front. Rita led them to the building. Castiel glanced back just in time for his Dean to knock out the younger Dean. The ex-angel flinched as if he were the one hit and turned back to face the abandoned work building. Rita said something that Castiel did not hear, and then they were attacked. The last thing Castiel hears is the screams of the people around him.

There was complete silence when Castiel woke up. It was a startling revelation that the building was quiet. The sounds of others' pained screams had ceased, but so had the Croats' growls and groans. Castiel stood on shaky legs, leaning heavily on a piece of debris nearby. He took his first real look at the hallway he and the others got overrun in. Castiel's eyes land on the mutilated bodies of Rita and the man Dean brought along. Castiel could not quite remember his name, and Castiel almost felt bad for it. Almost.

The former angel limped through the hallway and out of the building in the direction Dean had gone. Castiel vaguely thought of the younger Dean, who had mysteriously shown up. Castiel assumed it was due to angels. He childishly hoped that younger Dean was alive because he quite liked him.

Castiel weaved his way out of the abandoned building. He took in nothing as he went to find Dean. Castiel barely noticed when he almost tripped over a body. To his horror, it was Dean. If Castiel had not taken notice of the gross way his neck contorted, he would have thought Dean was merely knocked unconscious. Castiel forced his eyes off Dean, only to fall upon Lucifer. Well, Lucifer's vessel. Lucifer was dressed in a fashionable white suit. The white of the suit was a startling contrast to the scene it laid in. White was the color of hope, cleanliness, innocence, and new beginnings. The sight would be laughable if Castiel was capable of laughter.

There was no sight of the other Dean. He had been smote or returned to where he came from. Castiel would like to believe the other Dean was sent home. Castiel started at the sound of a groan of pain. For a moment, the former angel thought Dean was alive again. He was disappointed to see that the sound came from Sam. At least, Castiel thought it was Sam. He did not know which was worse in this scenario.
Castiel watched Sam struggle to sit up before the younger man unceremoniously collapsed. Sam was unconscious again. Castiel sighed and walked over to the pathetic man. He briefly argued with himself before he bit down what little pride he had left. Castiel dragged Sam to the jeep he and the younger Dean arrived in. With all the gentleness Castiel could force himself to muster up, the former angel put Sam in the passenger side. Castiel went back, with a heavy heart, for Dean.

Castiel wondered what he should do with Dean. Burn him? Perhaps bury him? Castiel would have to ask Sam when the younger man woke up. He was unsure why he wanted that decision from Sam. Even though Sam was the reason Dean was dead. It was a confusing jumble of thoughts, and Castiel regretted not getting high before he left camp.

A few hours later, Castiel had found them suitable shelter in a vacant house in a suburban area. The ex-angel dragged Sam inside a random house closest to his vehicle and left Sam in the doorway. Castiel went back outside and considered Dean for a moment. He was unsure of what he should do with the deceased man. Castiel retreated to the house. He grabbed Sam under the armpits and dragged him into a smelly living room. The furniture was dusty and gross. Whoever lived here before was long gone. Castiel looked at the musty couch before he set Sam down to grab a throw pillow from the furniture. Castiel put the pillow on the floor and laid Sam down.

Castiel set off to find a suitable blanket for himself when he stumbled into the kitchen. He ransacked the cupboards and drawers and found a few measly cans of vegetables. Castiel thought about eating something when his vision suddenly blurred. He sunk onto the dirty kitchen floor. His head began to throb, and his eyes watered at the pain. Castiel dug the heel of his palms into his eyes and willed his head to stop thumping. Somehow, Castiel fell asleep like that.

Castiel woke up to the sun shining in his eyes. He groaned and pushed himself off the kitchen floor. He rubbed at his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Once sure he would not fall while walking, Castiel left the kitchen to check on Sam. The other man was still unconscious and did not seem to have woken up at any time in the night. Castiel did not know what he would do when Sam woke up, but as Dean would say, he would cross that bridge when he got to it. Castiel went back into the kitchen to get something to eat. He grabbed a can of carrots and dug in.

It was midafternoon when Castiel heard something shuffle in the living room. He left the kitchen and found Sam awake.
"Dean?" Sam called out wearily. Castiel wanted to vomit.
"He's not here," Castiel replied coldly.
Sam flinched at his tone.
"Where is he?" Sam asked.
"Outside."
Sam took in what Castiel said. He looked away from the ground and up at
Castiel. "Is he dead?" Sam asked cautiously. His face was pinched in pain.
"Yes."

They both fall silent. What else could either of them possibly say?