Loved Abandon All Hope... and the way Ellen and Jo went out. Perfect ending for their characters. This is the conversation I hoped Sam and Dean had after being rescued by Castiel but before returning to Bobby's. It's depressing, but hopeful... because I still believe the Winchester's will prevail.

Everybody Hurts

As Lucifer turned to continue his ritual, Dean turned wide eyes to his brother, only to find Sam staring surprised at the empty space to his right. Tracking to follow his brother's line of sight, he was relieved to see Castiel crouch down, holding a finger to his lips. Dean almost flinched when the angel reached forward, laying one hand on his leg, reaching the other toward Sam. He blinked and suddenly found himself sitting on the damp cement curb of Carthage's main street, his back against the familiar steel of the Impala. He swallowed hard, nausea churning his stomach, knowing that this time the ride on the 'Angel Express' was not the sole reason for the queasy feeling rolling through him.

"We must leave quickly," Castiel instructed. The angel stood, his eyes moving down the dark street to the still burning exterior of the hardware store. His questioning gaze caught Dean's who could only shake his head slowly, swallowing again as more than bile got caught in his throat. He shifted his eyes to Sam whose own gaze was focused on him.

"You okay?" The younger man asked softly.

Pretty sure his brother already knew the answer, Dean simply closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the cold metal. He felt like he'd never be able to move again. His shoulder ached from where he had collided with the tree, not to mention the pounding his head was contributing. But none of it compared to the ache in his chest, the gaping hole of loss that had just gotten inexorably wider.

Ellen and Jo were gone.

Two more needless deaths on his head.

Two more good people who didn't deserve the fate that came to pass.

He was so tired of losing people he cared about.

"Dean?"

He opened his eyes, focusing on his brother's concerned face hovering directly in front of him.

"Hey," Sam's voice was soft and Dean couldn't help but notice the younger man looked as trashed as he felt. "You with me? You hit that tree pretty hard."

Dean shook his head, swallowing again as he reminded himself not to do that anytime soon. He held out his left hand and grabbed his brother's arm. "Help me up."

He braced his legs, letting Sam's strength do most of the work until he felt himself become marginally vertical. His head bowed, his eyes closed, he let Sam lean him back against the car, felt the brush of his brother's body as Sam leaned forward and opened the passenger side door.

"I got it," he mumbled as he brushed Sam's helping hand away. He turned to the door, setting one foot inside the car before turning his attention back to Castiel who still stood a few yards away, staring back toward the fire that was continuing to spread across the store fronts. "You coming?"

Turning his eyes back to the hunter, Castiel tilted his head slightly, a look of sadness crossing his face. "I am sorry," he stated softly.

Dean couldn't trust himself to speak. He nodded once, acknowledging the angel's comment before slowly lowering himself into the seat. He leaned back against the cool leather as Sam closed the door, closing his eyes against the condemning glow of the fire.

Snsnsnsnsnsn

Sam wiped his eyes, keeping his attention on the dark road flying beneath the wheels of the Impala. He'd split his attention between the road and his brother, the older man's silence unnerving him more than he cared to admit.

He'd seen Dean's goodbye to Jo. He'd watched him lean forward, placing a kiss on the young woman's forehead, knowing that any emotion from his brother had come at a price. But when Dean had leaned in a second time, placing a soft kiss on her mouth, Sam had been forced to turn away, knowing the moment was not one either of them wanted to share.

He'd always believed Jo had carried a torch for his brother but, until that moment, he'd never realized that Dean had felt something for her. Ever since they'd met three years ago at the Roadhouse, there'd been some kind of spark between the two, but he'd always assumed it was simply physical on his brother's part. He'd even asked Dean about it after they'd met up with Ellen again in Colorado. Dean had simply shaken his head, answered cryptically, 'Wrong place, wrong time.'

Sam had never asked again.

But from the way his brother leaned his head against hers, Sam knew Dean would always regret the opportunity missed. Sam, at least, knew what it felt like to be loved so completely by a woman. Jessica had given him that gift. He truly wished his brother would someday be able to feel how wonderful that was, but right now, he knew another piece of Dean's battered heart was melting away.

His breath hitched as his own heart continued to ache for the two amazing women they had lost today. The world would be a colder place without them. Their world would be an emptier place without them.

How did they move on from here? They'd failed. They couldn't stop Lucifer, Ellen and Jo died for nothing. And now, if Bobby was right, they had to contend with the actual Angel of Death unleashed upon the world.

When were they going to get a freaking break?

"Stop it, Sam."

The younger man frowned at the roughness of his brother's voice.

"Stop what?" he responded, his own voice sounding like gravel as he tried to bury the emotion running through him.

Dean shifted against the seat, not able to completely stifle a grunt of pain as he pushed himself up against the door. "Stop thinking so much. It never was good for you."

Sam sighed, throwing a glance to his brother. "I'll stop if you do."

Dean nodded in agreement. Sam watched as his brother reached his left arm around to support his right one.

"You screwed your shoulder up, didn't you?"

"I think the tree had more to do with it than I did."

Sam snorted a laugh. "Dislocated?"

"Not any more."

Sam shook his head. "You could've said something."

"You were a little busy chatting up the devil."

Sam turned, his eyes locking with his brother's. "You heard that?"

Dean raised his brows, indicating with his head for Sam to pay attention to the road before answering. "Some of it. It's all kind of jumbled up with a huge tree flying at me, but yeah. I caught the jist of it."

Sam took a shaking breath, his hands tightening on the steering wheel, his body going cold as he remembered the comparisons Lucifer had made between them.

"Were you buying that crap?" The question was soft, hesitant, and the pain in the normally strong, confidant voice made Sam's heart skip a beat in his chest. "Sam? Please tell me you know he was wrong."

Sam pulled the big Chevy to the side of the road and turned off the engine. He dropped his hands from the wheel and took a few deep breaths before turning slowly and facing his brother. "He was wrong, Dean." he said softly. "But not about me. He was wrong about you."

"Sam…"

"No," He held a hand up to stop his brother's denial. "I know what I did, Dean. I know what mistakes I made. I will do whatever it takes to prove that I've learned my lesson. But what he was wrong about, what he doesn't understand is that you will never turn against me. Michael may have done what was necessary, but he didn't kill his own brother. He didn't turn against him. You tried to make me see what I was doing, you tried to save me, Dean, but I wouldn't listen." He leaned forward, placing a hand on his brother's arm and looked him in the eye. "I know you will never turn against me, Dean. You weren't the one who left. Whatever I do, whatever I become, I know that you will never hurt me. Not unless there is absolutely no other choice."

Dean nodded, pursed his lips before responding. "Then he was wrong about both of us, Sammy. You're nothing like him."

"Maybe," Sam acknowledged. "Maybe not. But I promise you, Dean. I will never say yes to that son-of-a-bitch. Never."

Dean smiled. "I'm gonna hold you to that promise, Sammy."

"I'm gonna hold you to the same thing."

Dean swallowed, his eyes dropping for a moment before returning to meet his brother's. "Okay."

Sam leaned back, swiping a hand across his face as he let some of the pain slip away. "Good. So, now what?"

Dean turned his attention to the darkness in front of them. "Now, we head back to Bobby's and regroup. Ellen and Jo died to give us a chance. We may have lost this battle, but I'll be damned if we're gonna lose the war."

"But the Colt won't work. How the hell are we supposed to kill the devil?"

"Maybe we don't," Dean responded, turning his head back to his brother, his eyes unfocused as he allowed his mind to whirl.

"We don't?" Sam parroted.

Dean focused on his brother. "You said it yourself, Sammy. Michael didn't kill the bastard, he just made sure he was locked away where he couldn't hurt anyone. Maybe that's all we really need to do."

Sam thought for a moment, nodding his head once at the logic. "Okay. But the question remains. How?"

"I have no idea," Dean admitted. "But I'm tired of hurting. I'm tired of losing. Ellen told us to kick it in the ass."

"So… we figure it out?"

Dean nodded, the corner of his mouth rising in a grin. "We figure it out."

The End.