I googled Campbell's soup to confirm that they are, indeed, headquartered in Paris, TX, and it gave me an Evernote that started with Castiel. (Also my packing list for Russia in 2012--what that has to do with Campbell's soup, I really don't know!!) So as far as I'm concerned--Soup AU confirmed.
I don't remember writing these scene, though I definitely remember the fic it's from and I know why I cut it: Dean didn't belong in the fic (as usual, apparently, lol). Not even as a memory Sam realizes he needs to revise, now that he knows what's really been up with the last few months. The point of the fic was aggressively not thinking about Dean unless Castiel brought him up. This is from S9, 2015:
Cas lingers about, filling the bunker in a way Dean never had.
Not that Dean didn't linger; were Sam to take a tally, Dean's spent maybe 80% of his life lingering places he shouldn't be. And however much Dean took the pleasures of the bunker to their (frankly illogical) extreme--the dead guy robes, the dead guy kitchen, the dead guy percolator--he'd been skittish living here. And maybe losing his mind a little, Sam had thought, every time Dean's conversational abilities skewed aphasic, meaning and order spilling out worse than alphabet soup, or he caught Dean looking at him like he wasn't really him, wasn't really his brother.
He'd panicked, of course, every time he thought of Dean losing in that way; thinking his last flirtation with death might have finally kicked Dean Winchester--spinning golden plate that he is--off-kilter. But there wasn't anything Sam could do, except step into whatever allure of normalcy the bunker and its many amenities provided, and try to remain as calm as possible. Wait until Dean got scared enough to let him in.
Dean scared all right, and he sure let something in. It just wasn't Sam, and it wasn't into Dean.
Sam can still feel that cosmic, white-hot slipstream billowing up his throat.