*E.R.A.S.E.D*

by: WhiteGloves

A/N: I'm generally 'stoned' too so if this turned out too dramatic. It is. Hugely based on 5x04 and present. Twisted and hopefully with less OC we only add on the kill list anyways. Oh wait, we need them. Don't own anything here. Kripke's hogged them all. ;). Enjoy.

Chapter 1: E

Detroit, 2014- Post Apocalypse

He isn't the same- his life, his faith, even his friend.

Only if his friend...

One of the perks of hating his father—God—is having an excuse to believe in everything else without banging his head open on rocky walls or wish to be struck by lightning while waving a metal rod. It was an amazing aspect he realized after ending as this sorry-drug-induced-yoga-instructor-womanizer with great ass. God and the angels? They can swagger about in heaven in high heels and continue missing the peccadilloes humans enjoy swimming in—a Free Willy in Ocean Decadence. That's life. So him—Cas—mortal that he is—is free to follow any idols he wants and respects— and he chooses one that does not punish people by resurrecting them with mind-boggling memories glued on their heads with inclusion of how they die— that's just brutal.

Thank god, there's Buddha.

Happy with his choice, Cas added Buddhism to his resume. Hell, he even put the guy's statue in his room because this god's got taste—he erases memories and returns you to earth brand new—reincarnation. Brain wash. Guilt wash. Reborn from ashes. Even hecklers will kiss ass for that. So he kept his faith nice and easy and waited for the day he gets snuffed out and reincarnated as a bee. He still liked that idea all despites.

Cas didn't have to wait long, though and that's a good thing—like save-by-the-bell really good thing now because this mad world's finally ending. The sign came in two this 2014: the reappearance of the Colt and twin Dean Winchester from 2009. He wished this Dean would stick around-Cas didn't care how long—this old version's a pretty funny guy unlike, well, himself. Looking back 'change' is an understatement.

So when their leader has decided it's time to bang up Lucifer's bitching with the Colt, Cas knew it was the end. He didn't have to have a say to it. This same fearless leader then sent his team on an ice cream errand to party with the Croates. Cas knew it was bad news.

And what has been deemed as inevitable has finally come to be realised- after purposefully landing on the trap just to give the heroes room to kill Lucifer, Cas knows he is dying.

You would think it too if all you could see is red, one of your eyes has puffed out and your right arm dangling like it's not part of you. Cas can feel all mortal pain kicking in being a son of a bitch sentient that he is. They had been had; the Croates in the hot zone were smarter—that or his team got dumber considering they attacked knowing it was an ambush. Yeah, they are dumber.

So Cas drags himself away from hell-on-earth arena with persistence he never knew he still had. The losing battle is in front of him, they had to withdraw— to survive for whatever hellish reason left. But he wants to find both Deans first. The idea of dying alone made him instinctively think of them. Or maybe he was just looking for a reason not to kick the bucket yet. What's still pulling him?

He remembers the other Dean from 2009 vanish with the leader at the back. The moment they did—everything turned bad real quick. Partying with Croates was expected to be nasty. On the first minutes Cas enjoys it— guns firing and blazing, the adrenaline, moving about, kicking. Then one of his buddies went down with bullet on his neck. Cas was not fazed. It wasn't the first death he saw. But he remembered this same guy laughing at a joke he told the women. He was a friend. Cas' gut churned horribly and he fired more ammo. Then Croates rainbow party went wild next with more splashes of red colors. His eyes puffed, his shoulder shot.

Fuck.

It was going nowhere. The ambush was clear; Cas slams his back on a wall to catch his breath thinking of finally… his last day. His mind drifts to reincarnation and the bee… then he thought of the survivors left in the camp. How long can they survive without them? Then he worries about the beautiful ladies who were his flowers. He will miss them.

News flash—Risa's dead. He saw her die.

A jolt of pain inside him crept to his lungs up to his throat, jamming out sound. The gun on his hand's useless, just like him. Firing it wasn't enough. Party was nearly over anyway and he is standing alone. That was when Cas started running. Whoever decided he come out of the party barely in one piece has some pretty nasty issue against him. But he is running now. His head is super painful and he can't think straight anymore. He wonders if he should have stayed behind. Then realizes he can't. He promised to fight when called by the leader, o fearless man, he phrased.

Unreliable and useless that he is, Cas remembers every word he said when he bank up for the job, which underneath included profligacy and self-loathing.

He knows 2009 Dean is alive too. It was tons fun to see him. Kind of like the old times… He feels sorry somehow but don't know for whom. So he wonders if his fearless leader managed to kill Lucifer. By the looks of it, all of them would have perished and still not know if he succeeded. If he did… then what?

Cas' chest is in flames. Still, he moves on. His clothing is drenched with sweat and blood. His surrounding is intoxicating especially the stench of death. His body shakes violently that nearly caused him to trip down but he keeps up, afraid if he goes down now he may never get up.

Lucifer is near. Despite his lack of power, Cas can feel his fallen brother and wherever he is, his leader will be too. He can only hope, even this one. That his friend is alive. It is the leader's job to secure the task on his shoulder… it's Cas' job to aid him through it.

He is striding now in a garden patch, with roses he can't appreciate towards the place he saw the Deans disappeared. It had been an hour since then and they've lost much. The blood path he made from the building seems to attract Crotes as he hears them come but the concern was wiped out of his mind as he looks at the empty garden—

Cas freezes.

He first sees the Colt laying uselessly on the ground, then just beside it a familiar hand leading to a body with a broken neck.

A familiar face with closed eyes, an empty vessel. Dead.

Everything goes silent. Even his thoughts disappear as his breathing.

Cas stares at his friend's face. His body loses every bit of strength left as he staggers. He moves around, disbelieving, forgetting his pain, the Crotes, forgetting Lucifer and all other damned. He forgets why he is there—wonders why staring at another dead body—after seeing so many, is making him wish he is also dead.

Captain's dead. Left the building. They failed.

He drags himself instinctively, drops himself beside it and touches the cold hands gently. No response. Cas grips the hand, wanting to call the man's name but the unfamiliarity is condemning. He hates himself for it. He hates himself since then. He hates himself till now.

And now the man's dead with the warmth of his body leaving like how Cas' grace had left him years ago…

The pain is absolute. Anguish. He clutches the man closer and bows his head. If there was anyone left to mourn this man, Cas always knew it was always meant to be him to stand on this man's grave, alone, shaking. Lost.

Then he prays. It came to him like lightning and he prays. He believed! God, his angels—all of them. It was pure determination and agony that surged through him afterwards. He calls heaven to answer but knows they will not. It warrants anger and suddenly his skin glows hot white like he is about to burst—he wants to make heaven feel his sorrow, his guilt, his life… just make them feel how hell is like.

But the man is dead. He screams loud… louder… loud enough to crash heaven to him.

And sees nothing but blazing light.

Present: 2016

A loud shutting sound of barring metal doors joggled Dean Winchester's head away from his arm violently as he slept on, shaking him awake and alert for any possible attack that didn't come except of the falling of something heavy on his legs. Confused for a moment with brows unforgiving, the hunter realized seconds next he is still inside the Bunker's library with tons of books laid open in front of him after pulling an all-nighter with bottles of beer on the table and a gigantic book on his thighs. Where are the women?

Dean slams the open book shut and looks up to identify the reason behind his awakening wishing it be a demon— he feels like killing one at the moment. But intruders are ruled out immediately after he heard the slack-ish footsteps descending on the metal stairs. No assassin or demon would make such a gate crashing entrance in the Winchesters hideout!

Checking out the time, the hunter sees 03:11a.m flashing on his watch. Residents Inn should probably impose 'selected' curfews with its three occupants effective immediately now— with Dean, excluded. The idea's for the kids—two kids in fact with one unbearably an infant. Sammy is with their mother for now doing what he sees fit. The angel however, well… the infant appears to be partying to Kingdom come.

Staring up, Dean waits for the kill with steel eyes, aiming to intimidate.

The footsteps sounded heavy, unlike its owner's usual light one. If Sam would make such heavy strides, Dean would undoubtedly kick him out of Hunter's Association even if they were the only members. Because no hunter steps like that!

But more so—definitely no decent angel.

Dean watches in slow motion as the owner of the footsteps finally reveals himself. He emerged from the thick walls, wobbly as a daruma doll, foggy eyed and moody. His short dark hair is unruly, like he had been standing all day on planet upside down with his neck tie askew. His clothes—there was nothing else to describe it— a dirty piece of meat suit wearing a dirty piece of trench coat. Castiel in the making.

The hunter sighs inwardly with his chin raising as he sees the angel step into the light without a glance in his direction. He watches more as the said apparition in flesh bobs on his feet, apparently dead drunk when he goes and hugs a pillar unconcernedly.

"Hey, jellybeans? You wanna stop freaking out the column? Come and sit here." He barks causing Castiel—who had knocked his head on the brick pillar—look around, scandalized at the sharp tone that he blinks hard many times following the terrible sound. Dean shuts his eyes while the angel gives a pause for the damage—then goes to attack the table Dean is in.

"I don't even want to ask." The hunter says as he watches Castiel grab one of his beers, flick the bottle cap away with only a thumb, pick up a glass nearest him and pours himself liquor. The angel's already on his second full rainbow when Dean snatches the glass away with a grim look. "Ok, that's enough."

Unperturbed, Cas takes a swig on the bottle—

"Hey, hey!" Dean snarls to the stunned angel who turns at the painful sound while Dean takes the bottle too. "The hell did you do with your day? Looked for jobs in Factotum? Stalk wineries in Europe? What's wrong with you?"

"Loud, loud..." Castiel turns his face away in dislike and grimaces with hands clapped on both ears. Dean doesn't blame him. Angels are supersonic sensitive which makes everything plenty stupid since Cas knew that already. And drank anyway.

"Feeling crap?" the hunter asks, eyes in attention with a well deserved smirk. "I can pour you some holy bloody oil in a grail, what d'you say?"

Castiel glares and murmurs something inaudible that sounded like a profane term. Dean grins and left the table.

"Quit squirming." he barks again minutes later to the uptight angel when he returned from the kitchen carrying a tray to find one of Castiel's legs halfway down the chair. "Sit up—hey—hey! No legs on the table—what are you, a damn cat? Here, take this."

He pushes a cup of tea in a saucer with small cups of chocolate candies—his preference— in front of the angel who sits still for awhile with right palm on his face, eyes open. He made no move, didn't even bat an eye as he stares into a space on the table with a dark look on his face.

The hunter watches him warily for he had seen Castiel's temperamental expressions. He wants to prelude interrogation but afraid the angel would snap being himself plus the spirit of barbarian's alcohol. Snap as in all-mojo-out-flashing-red-lights-nerdy-angel-beating-the-crap-out-of-anyone. Not that he thinks Cas irresponsible.

Suck that.

"You okay?" he begins. There, safely, in general. No snappy responses require.

Cas slowly moves his eyes—clear blue and dark flashing. He stares at the cup first with his heavy lidded eyes before looking up at the hunter blankly, tiredly. He grunted. Dean narrows his eyes edgily.

"I'll need more than that to justify a crime, Cas." The hunter riles with eyes on the angel. Then fish swims—"What the hell's up with you? You haven't shown yourself in what—two weeks? Then lo behold you suddenly come back all Martin Sheen? What— did a dick you don't like just won president so you come here mopping?'" he glares at the angel again in time to see him look back as if just seeing him the first time.

"I can't fly." Cas sighs painfully.

"What?"

"I didn't go to Europe. Because I can't fly."

Dean loses all logic and shakes his head, "Alright, I get it. You got no juice to fly—your wings are broken. Is that why you decided to go all island drunk, huh? Or is hunting Lucifer on oceans free not going well without submarines?"

"Both." Cas groaned with a little shake of his head. "I've been at it for months…"

"It's not like he's going anywhere." Dean shrugged positively. "I mean the world's round, how many circles can be made without intersecting, right?"

"Unless it's the bottom of the ocean, yeah." The angel reached for the beer and was already drinking on it before Dean could jerk it back with a new contortion of eyebrows threatening to dig deeper as a hint to the angel. Castiel gave him a disapproving look before turning to his cup. The angel watched it for a long while till his eyes began to droop.

"Drink it." Dean says, watching him. "It'll lighten you up. While you're at it you might want to change your clothes that don't make you look like a rag. Try a trench coat for a change."

"You don't look so swell yourself." Cas observes, making Dean shoot him a look. Pet biting owner.

"Well, I'm me, you're an angel."

"And the difference is…?"

"I have better meat suit."

"That… that doesn't add up." Castiel glances up with eyes suddenly filling with inquiries as Dean pushes the tea towards him again till it was by his fingers.

"That's because you're drunk, pal. You can't think straight, nothing adds up, everything's a yoyo so why don't you take this tea down so I can dump you on your room and let you burry yourself with Netflix again."

The angel took one look on the tea and grimaces again. "It's not a bad idea. I can do that."

"Yeah, take a break. Then I'll set your alarm clock clucking to 'Lucifer's coming'."

Castiel gave him a cold look Dean returns with a smirk that melted away as he lost the staring contest.

"Just drink it, alright?"

"But tea?" Cas sighs again as he finally took the cup's side. Then he looks up suspiciously. "Are you mothering me?"

"No, that's Sam's job. I'm smothering you." The hunter grunted with hands clasped together as he watched the angel drink the tea without any apparent expression at all.

"Where's Sam?"

"Around…chasing mother goose." Dean shrugs, remembering his mom. "Mom's on a self-chase… And Sam he… he called mom once and the next thing he wants to meet her."

Castiel gives him a funny questioning look. The kind which would make Dean suddenly feels expose under the angel's scrutinizing eyes.

"What?" he asks defensively.

"Why didn't you go?" Castiel wonders aloud in his now mellow-revered voice. His senses have returned. Dean looks at him testily but knows it is useless when Castiel's asking questions like that. He seems to know the answer before he hears them. Dean always thought him a conductor of emotionally-disturbed activities. He dismisses the thought.

"Look—I go there now I might drag her back here and she'll hate me." When confusion crossed the angel's face, the hunter clears his throat and presses his lips. "It's dangerous out there, Cas… and there's half of me always thinking something's out there to get her. Like how everything's out there to get Sammy when we were kids. Takes a lot of me to stop myself from freaking out, you know?" he smiles strangely now because he feels like mocking himself but knew Cas never judges. "I think there's a maniac inside me thinking like dad these days. Keeping people I care about from their freedom. Making their choices… with their lives. I'm pretty messed up, I know. But that's what I do."

He drinks on the bottle he is holding with Castiel's eyes on him and Dean looks away. He feels his face grow hot and it's not because the angel is looking at him up close. He just never expected this morning's version of Dr. Phil with a drunken angel and his patriarchal issues.

"You have an issue." Cas diagnoses that earned him a spot on look from Dean.

"Thank you, nurse. Really helpful." He chugs the beer to the last drop and thumps it on the table. The angel shakes his head.

"No, Dean, I mean—I don't think acting as you are towards them, I don't think they can take it against you." Dean listens. "You just want to protect them. You've always been like that with Sam… your mother." He shrugs. "Sometimes I feel, with me."

"Oh." Dean watches his friend, curious. "And… do you think it's a bad thing?"

Castiel looks him square in the eye. "These days… I don't think I will ever see 'caring' as a bad thing. It's an act of kindness, you know… because it's what keeps you human."

Dean believes him. He just does. "So what does that make you?" he flips easily to divert attention before Cas notices his reddening ears.

The angel raises eyebrows and sighs. "A poor example of someone who cares too much it can topple heaven and earth."

The hunter laughs thinking of the angel's reference. "Well, that's makes us two. So? What's with the wings issue? Two years and just now you're complaining?"

"I crashed my truck." Cas admits after a while with shame flashing on his blue eyes as he looks away.

"Where?"

"California."

Dean didn't expect a full recount so he just shakes his head. "So?" dumb question.

"One of the wheels exploded, the truck fell on the ditch. There weren't any other cars for the next ten miles."

"Where in California did you go?" the hunter asks, bemused.

"The point is, I wasted time." Castiel's eyes are sharp again. "And I realize how much I am wasting because my wings—"

"And getting drunk technically speaking doubled your hours?" when the angel just stared at him, Dean knew he had to burst the bubble, "Or… you actually just want to drink and forget all about the crappy stuff you've been through?"

It hit the bull's eye. Castiel had never looked so unhappy. "I'm sorry." He goes on with a sigh, "I shouldn't have—I should be searching—"

He is scrambling on his feet when Dean reaches a hand, frowning.

"Hey, whoa—hold your pants—I told you, I get it, Cas. You just want a break, alright?" he tugs on the angel's sleeve to make him sit again, "It's fine. You got plenty of crap on your shoulder, I don't blame you." He watches as the angel's shoulders lose its tense and gradually began to relax on his seat again. "That's why Sammy and I told you we'll help you look for Lucifer in the first place."

"I'm the one—" goes the broken recorder—

"Set him lose, duly noted." Dean bridles, annoyed. "But if it's gonna break you like this I'd rather have you watching Netflix."

A flash of recognition appears on Castiel's eyes and for a moment, it made the angel smile.

"You don't mean that. Me, out of the game."

"Not really." The hunter nods, taking another sip on his beer. "Otherwise I'd be the one reeking in alcohol here. But this is good— I mean you opening up. You rest when you need to. Everybody deserves a break, you know?"

"Not angels." The pensive look returns on the angel's face.

"You're halfway not." He catches himself and looks at his friend. "Was that comforting?"

"Ineffectively." But Castiel smiles again as he leans back on the chair, battery out.

Dean holds his honks watching him, and then smiles. Cas is stronger than he looks. Till he looked like an infant raising his head with gloomy blue eyes now. The hunter is about to slam the response but things get livelier when out of nowhere—the angel suddenly shot up to his feet, eyes round and large as something in his head distracts him. The man guesses the angelic club network turning the 'We're Open' board. Is it about Lucifer? Or something worse?

"Cas?"

"Dean." The angel turns sharply on the hunter's direction, his pale face all sobered up. "We need to go."

He is up and on the go before Dean could raise any objection.

Dean finds himself behind the familiar wheels of his baby minutes later with the angel beside him. Castiel is in the middle of explaining what he heard—disturbances in the world's order—an inconceivable event—but hell what else is new? Only, Dean's phone rings and Sam's speaking on the other line saying something about hunting with their mother.

"What do you mean you're on a hunting trip?" Dean bristles with contorted brows, eyes on the road, hands on the wheel. Cas sits silently beside him.

"Aren't you?" comes the younger brother, "I can hear you driving."

"Answer me—why are you hunting?!"

"She's insistent about it, Dean. Come on, you know it's in our blood. It's not like I could keep her from it."

Dean munches his lips."You could at least try."

"You wanna try and stop her?" Sam asks challengingly. When no response came, he goes on. "Anyways, this may take awhile. If you want you can come—?"

The older brother glances at the angel beside him with sharp eyes and then sighs. "It's fine. I'd rather have you beside her while she's on ganking supernatural stuff. I've got something with Cas."

"Everything good?"

"If you think practically bolting out of the Bunker because of some friggin' angel broadcast from upstairs is good—"

"All right, I get it. Seems serious. Is it about Lucifer?"

"God knows. Cas' still sobering up."

"He's drunk?"

"Yeah, like bachelor's party drunk. He's fine. I got him."

"Okay, just keep me updated. We don't know much about angels except them locking heaven and now, suddenly they open network to Cas? Why? Cause they know something horrible happened but don't want to get their hands dirty so they're letting their already sullied angel clean up the mess?"

"I can hear you." Cas points out.

"He can hear you." Dean relays the message, making Sam to remain quiet so Dean chuckles. "Well, you know them. Plates' full, it's on your hands now, and it's your world kind of thing. I mean, what's new? I think we're better off if they don't screw with us."

"Where are you headed?"

"Detroit."

"Alright. Keep your head up, alright, Dean?"

"Up and sniffing. You do the same. And who do you think you're talking to?"

"I'm just sayin', man. When angels get involved and then get 'uninvolved'? Not a good sign."

"Alright, Nostradamus. Any ideas what to expect?"

"I don't know. Surprise me."

"You bet." Dean smirks as he hung up and put his phone away. With a glance at his watch reading seven in the morning, the hunter turns his head to his only companion again. "You heard Sam, Cas? He says surprise him."

Castiel's face is grim and he narrows his eyes seriously at the comment.

"Be careful what you ask for."

The black impala parks outside a residential area in Detroit but unnaturally, the area is deserted. Dean comes out of his car and slams it shut with eyes travelling on his surroundings feeling like he's on one of those post- apocalyptic movies. The idea shakes him and he immediately walks around, alert and vigilant to whatever's out there. The stench in the air is thick, like a gas exploded somewhere but with no fire. Dark clouds partly cover the sky in circle as if a whirlwind has decided to make a tornado on the spot but vanishes an instant.

"Why Detroit?" he asks the angel uncomfortably, silently glad his brother's not around.

"Because it's here." The look on Castiel's face is not reassuring, especially when he takes Dean's attention and pointed behind a tall, brick walled building. They walk near it, eyes scouring the place till the angel pointed again, this time near an orchard. Dean nods at him and together, the two steps in, side by side to the silent garden where roses and statues and a fountain lay hidden. The hunter has this sort of déjà vu of the place and wonders if he has been there.

Castiel halts their movements and Dean realizes why.

It appears like he isn't mistaken of the déjà vu for there, beneath the flowers and the fountain are two bodies lying on the singed grassy ground— two so familiar bodies to them both. There was no need to describe in detail when it was like looking in a different mirror but seeing the same faces underneath the bloody, dirty clothes because there on the ground are their bodies. And Dean knows they aren't any shape shifters. He remembers them exactly as they are from a dream! But how…?

"What is this…?" Castiel frowns at Dean whose eyes immediately answer his friend.

"You tell me…" the hunter blinks hard, trying to recall the event in his mind years ago when some maniac angel named Zachariah sends him forward in time where Lucifer was in his brother's body and these two… well… he got to see himself get a broken neck and god knows what happened to the hippy Cas but one thing's for certain—they aren't meant to survive! Let alone exist for that was only an episode of a mad angel's fabrication of the future. "I think…" he pauses to breathe. What is happening?

Cas frowns at him deeply and then takes step towards the fallen. He observes the bodies for awhile and then raises a hand to his look-alike—

"This one's dying." He informs the hunter who followed right behind him. "He looks like me. Why?"

But Dean isn't listening anymore for there—at that precise moment—his own body version opens its eyes and stares at them in full surprise— the Dean of the present automatically grabs the angel's right shoulder to haul him up shouting—

"That me is supposed to be dead!"

EXIST

~TBC~

A/N: R is for...?

Thank you for reading!