Dean lay on the floor, the foul smell of his drink drifting over him in an unpleasant cloud. He hadn't felt a drink affect him this much since he was a teenager. He had a gut of steel by the time he was fifteen. This led him to spend far too much money on the bar, buying drink after drink until he felt the effects of alcohol. It never filled up the emptiness inside him.

This bottle had him feeling queasy after the first drink, and not the good kind of queasy.

"Dean?" Sam called, his voice sounding far away though he was standing right over his brother. "Dean!" He shook his face, slapped him timidly and then harder a couple more times. All Dean did was moan incomprehensibly. Sam left the room and came back with a bucket of cold water. "Dean!" He shouted louder now, but even the piercingly cold water didn't shake Dean from his hazy state.

"Oh shit." Sam muttered at the sound of approaching voices, getting louder until they stopped right outside the motel's door.

"Castiel, hoping your not busy, I could use your help right now." Sam muttered, looking up at the dirty popcorn ceiling. No answer.

The door opened and two men in black face masks burst in, guns pointed at the pair of brothers. Sam held his hands above his head, heart pounding as he tried to find a solution to get out off this mess.

"Hey look pal, it's the famous pair of Winchesters. They ain't nothing like they've been hyped to be."

"I must say, I'm not impressed with them. But the price on their heads is a different story."

"Let's not mention how easy this has been to whomever is paying us."

Their conversation stopped as their bodies both went limp, forming a pile on the ground, which Castiel hovered over.

"Nice timing." Sam told Castiel, who leaned down and put his hand on Dean's forehead, healing him from the slumber that he had cast himself in. Only Dean didn't wake up, he just turned around on the floor. A line of drool formed around the corner of his mouth, dropping down onto the floor. Sam took a mental picture of it.

Castiel and Sam secured their hands and feet with duct tape and carried them outside, dropping them in the sizable trunk. They'd awoken and breathed heavily through the duct tape wrapped tight around their mouths, squirming and making as much sound as the could.

"Cas, do you mind?"

Castiel pressed his fingertips on their foreheads, leaving them unconscious. Their wiggling stopped.

The trip was long, and one they made only occasionally. Crossing the Rocky Mountains to enter the Grounders' East Coast often was a dangerous task. This time they encountered no obstacles.

Dean still didn't wake up, and Sam had to convince Castiel to stop trying to heal him. The fallen angel had tried so hard at one point that all the color had drained from his face.

After three days of driving they had finally arrived at their destination. They brought their prisoners to Lexa, where they would become laborers. Lexa's empire benefited from the laborers, but they were not fundamental. However they would still be offered a generous price for the two able-bodied men like the two in their trunk. The Winchesters were respected for their ability to deal with the various monsters that roamed among the Grounders, but their rash methods were somewhat frowned upon. Lexa was among the grounders that didn't exactly appreciate their methods but tolerated them for the greater good of her people.

The guards outside the camp immediately recognized Sam and Castiel, opening up the gates of their compound to let the Impala through. They parked and got out, following a guard who announced their arrival in front of Lexa, who sat regally on her throne.

"We've come to bring you two laborers."

"What else?" She replied shortly, not bothering with politeness. She kept her eyes on a leather-bound book she was skimming through.

"Well, we'd like compensation for them."

"Don't try to tell me you came all this way for that."

Sam exchanged a knowing glance with Castiel. She may have been young, but she wasn't stupid.

"We request a… special compensation."

Lexa finally looked up from her book.

"And what is it that you request?"

Sam stepped closer to Lexa, who shifted uneasily in her chair at Sam's movement. Though he knew Lexa herself wouldn't want Dean to be in danger, he wasn't sure about all in her court, many Grounders held grudges on the Winchesters.

"Dean is in… rough shape right now." Sam said, lowering his voice. "Castiel wasn't able to heal him."

She nodded to show she understood why had lowered his voice. A worried expression briefly cast over her face before she resumed her look of ambiguity. "If Castiel isn't able to heal him, why would we be able to?"

This time Castiel spoke up, "We aren't positive that you can, but believe that your healer, Lincoln, is our best shot at reviving Dean."

She nodded, "I'll see what we can do."

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! Let me know your thoughts :)

I'll add more depending on feedback.