A/N: Yeah, I have no words for this one either. I saw a promo photo for the next episode 15x19, and this fic demanded to be written as a result. Obviously, I'm trying to work through everything that happened still in 15x18. :) Thanks for reading.

Love Hurts

With their backs against the wall sitting on either side of the entryway leading into the kitchen, the brothers held their respective beer in silence. Each had their heart ripped out of their chest and shredded beyond all recognition because of Chuck, because of Billie, because of the Empty, because of dicks like all three megalomaniac cosmic entities. There was a sort of comfort in knowing they both were experiencing the same sort of heartbreak now—if it could even be called comfort.

Dean picked at the label on his beer some more. He still felt Cas's strong grip to his shoulder, so he refused to change shirts. To remove Cas's mark from him again. He needed the reminder it was real. That he had this beautiful angel of his who had betrayed the default programming time and time again, who had disobeyed superiors, who had ripped up the script for Dean so many times to ensure that the human loved by this angel who had pulled Dean's sorry, broken ass from Hell had a fighting chance. So, yeah, he couldn't remove the last touch he'd have from his angel who gave his life for Dean once again.

Sam had chosen to ignore his bottle for the most part. He'd take a sip once in a great while when he'd feel the heartbreak rising again, choosing to refocus on the bitterness. He couldn't believe he was in this situation once more. Losing yet another he loved, and he hadn't even told her—given himself freely to her this time. One date. That was all he had gotten. And it had been a good one, but after the whole Butters' incident, he hadn't talked to Eileen since. They had been on constant alert, full steam ahead.

It had hurt when Dean finally answered after Sam having tried to reach him for hours, terrified of losing his brother as well. That everyone he ever loved but Jack was gone. However, the second he heard the choked-out reply from his brother, he knew in his soul that Dean felt the same as he did now.

They did what they always did. They buried their pain just as John Winchester had taught them to in alcohol, trying to numb themselves enough to carry on. To compartmentalize. To push on like the good soldiers they were expected to be. The saviors of humanity.

But, fuck, it was hard this time. It was more difficult than it had ever been before. Sam had watched Charlie, Bobby, Donna, and all the others pretty much be Thanos-ed out of existence, unable to stop it. He failed them. And he sure as hell failed to keep Eileen, yet another he loved, safe too.

On the other hand, Dean sat there, plagued by his inaction of saying the words back to Cas. The words he had wanted to say in Purgatory. The words that had been screaming for years now. He'd never get that chance. Not when the kid had been trying and admitting that he couldn't reach the Empty this time after Dean had begged Jack to try and bring Cas back.

Who were the Winchester brothers after losing their big wins? Their other halves who helped polish them? Who had given them a chance at hope and love? Honestly? Who were they now? That question echoed through their minds as they sat there, backs pressed hard against the cool, cement wall.

Unable to answer that question, Dean lulled his head towards his little brother, wanting to say something. He needed to say something to the poor kid. But what could he say? 'Sorry I fucked up again and wasted time, thinking it was Billie. Sorry I made Cas sacrifice himself again for us. Sorry I can't pull myself out of my own pain this time and help you with yours.' None of that would help the hollowness felt inside. None of that would heal the deep wounds to their souls. Nothing would.

So, instead, the brothers continued sitting in silence for another half hour.

"Dean?"

Finally, the silence was broken.

"Yeah?"

Sam let out a slow exhale, his eyes closing briefly as his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed back his heavy emotions.

"I thought I had more time."

Dean scoffed, letting his head tilt upwards. So did he. He couldn't get the words past the lump in his throat, though, so he waited for his brother to continue.

"We literally have nothing left."

"Except Jack," Dean mumbled quietly, lifting his bottle up and taking a long drink.

"Yeah," Sam replied numbly. "Yeah. Course. Jack too."

How the hell could they find the strength to move on from this? Their happy endings had been ripped from them. The truths they had denied were revealed. And now the only thing they had left was their shared pain.

They were beyond tears. They were past the initial shock. Their anger at the unfairness simmered underneath, waiting to boil to the surface like usual.

"Do you . . . do you think . . ." Sam curled inwards for a brief second before he forced his body to stretch out in faux control.

"They're alive?" Dean offered gently, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Yeah."

Taking another swig, the eldest Winchester let the beer numb him more. It was Chuck. It was always fucking Chuck. And that smug, cocky asshole wanted his ending, obsessed about it and had shown how crazed he was when once again he was thwarted from reaching it. Chuck was desperate, a feeling Dean knew full well these days.

But then again, so were Sam and Dean.

Desperation from Chuck mirrored with the same from the brothers.

It'd certainly be interesting to see what'd be next, but Dean frankly couldn't find it in him anymore to care. He was hurt. He was heartbroken. And he was in so much pain.

"Yeah. They're alive," he lied, offering the comfort he longed to be true. "This ain't how the story ends. Can't be."

Sam instantly inhaled deeply, shaking as his fought the urge to cry out his pain more. His fingers curled tighter against the warming beer. He didn't care if it was lie Dean was telling. That didn't matter. Not right now. It was more the words said in hope that meant the world here. That they could still find a way out of this somehow, even though it was despairing. Tilting back his beer, he took a long pull of it, swallowing and setting his empty bottle beside him. They'd find a way. Somehow. Or die trying.

"Agreed." Hazel eyes flitted over to Dean. A soft, ghostly smile pulled at Sam's lips. "Let's make them all proud and give Chuck hell."

Dean nodded, gulping down the rest of his bottle. His joints cracked and popped as he stood, rising with his brother. "Since when have we ever followed fate and obeyed Chuck's rules?"

Sam's smile grew as he nodded appreciatively.

"Take a page out of Cas's book?" he questioned.

"Damn straight we do. We take every page that angel of mine has ever done, and we fucking end Chuck once and for all. We straight up send that asshole packing—and then we get our happily ever afters back. And if we fail, well, least we tried."

Sam bobbed his head curtly. "Michael then?"

"Michael. And we don't stop until he gets his feathery asshole back down here."

"He might have an idea on the book."

"Yeah. Maybe. But more importantly we know he's got some cards we don't at the very least. So, let's get to it, yeah?"

The youngest brother nodded slowly. "How are we going to do this, though?"

"We summon his ass here like we did Balthazar all those years ago. We know they can't ignore that. And if he tries, then we take another page from Cas—and we annoy the fuck out of his brother. And we don't stop for anything. Chuck may be desperate for his ending, but we know something he doesn't. Something old Voldemort from Potter didn't know either." Dean grinned widely, his watery green eyes sparkling with unshed tears as he felt the vacant spot inside his chest. "Something Chuck can't begin to imagine." He gently rested a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Love is the greatest power in the universe. And between you and me—and the kid? Ain't nobody more loving than us. So, we use that to our advantage, sway Michael back to us so he can get Heaven in line—and we work with everyone we know—and pull an Endgame ending off, resetting the board."

"How?"

Dean shrugged lightly. "Hell if I know, but Cas always made it up as he went along—told Chuck as much once. And every time, we usually stumbled across some dumb luck along the way. Add in combining Heaven and Hell's forces by getting Michael and Rowena on board? Then we got a shot."

Sam followed along, nodding in understanding.

"Let's go shove love down Chuck's throat and end this once and for all-and we bring them back. All of them, Sammy. And once it's done, we get our butts to a beach with little umbrella drinks-and we finally live in peace. And we feel that sunshine on our face and be happy, really fucking happy. You with Eileen, me with Cas. And Jack being a kid for once like it should have been from the start. Let's end this."