Cas watched as the final angel fell, tears in his eyes. He sighed, looking around for a moment before setting off down the road. He stopped once or twice for a small snack before continuing on, losing track of how many hours he’d spent walking.
It was daylight now, and his legs were starting to hurt, and his stomach felt like it was gnawing through itself. And he was hallucinating. He had to be. Because walking towards him was…him. Him in dirty scrubs and a trench coat and covered in scruff. Castiel frowned, tilting his head as he stopped in front of the other.
"Who are you?" he demanded, wishing he was still capable of summoning his angel blade. Either the man in front of him was an intense hallucination, or a shapeshifter of some sort. He wondered if humans saw hallucinations that vivid. He had never bothered to ask anyone if hallucinations looked so solid and had so much…realism.
Castiel had been ripped from Purgatory, plucked from the only place he deserved to be; the only place he could truly pay his penance. Now, here he was, walking along the road (because something was wrong, very wrong and his powers were spotty at best), he could’ve sworn he was seeing things like before.
As he drew closer, he realized that no… he was not seeing things, in fact… he was seeing himself.
"You know who I am," he said matter-of-factly. "I’m you. Although, I do not recognize you, so my best guess would be that I am a past version of you. What year are you from?"
Castiel frowned. “It’s 2014. And…you are…from Purgatory.” He sighed, reaching out to touch the other’s arm, reassuring himself that the other was really there. “I wasn’t sure you were really here. I’ve heard that humans have hallucinations caused by hunger or exhaustion and…I am feeling both of those at the moment.”
He felt a dizzy spell come on, and he dropped his head for a moment. “Are you able to fly?” he asked, looking up at the other. “Because if you are, it would be extremely nice if you flew us somewhere with food. Perhaps the bunker…though…you don’t know where that is, do you?”
He sighed, reaching into his pocket to see how much money he had left, and it really wasn’t much. He only had $1.50, which wouldn’t be enough to get food or anything for both of them.