Blood dripped into his eyes, pooling in the corners of his mouth and wetting his dusty dry tongue. Dean didn't know how long he'd been there, Michael kept him in a cement room in the basement; no sunlight, no moon. Just the annoying sound of water dripping somewhere in the distances. His side hurt and his leg felt broken and…damn he could really go for a cheese burger right now. All the works with bacon on top. His stomach rumbled and cursed him for thinking about food.

Sam was probably worried, if Cas had told him and he would have…maybe. Or maybe he hadn't called, hadn't wanted to worry Sam because he believed he could get Dean back. Maybe, maybe…shit Dean was starting to hate that word.

Michael hadn't fucked him and, yeah Dean was grateful for that; so damn grateful. But…if he hadn't brought him here for that, then why? When Dean asked the bastard just grinned and said if Dean really wanted he wasn't opposed to fucking him. "You're a damn good piece of ass Winchester." And Dean really wanted to cut the bastards dick off and shove it down his fucking throat at the leer he'd thrown Dean.

The springs of the ratty ass mattress groaned and cried out as he shifted to get comfortable, or shifted as much as the chains on his wrist would allow. His eyelids were growing heavy with the drying blood, it itched and irritated and….shit he really-really hoped Cas got here soon.

….

Michael, no last name, was a badass and a new resident to the city of Sin. He dealt in private security and importing/exporting (i.e. drugs) and was rumored to dabble in human trafficking. It was that last part that made Castiel's skin crawl and sent his nerves on edge. Because unlike most human-traffickers Michael dealt in the moving of males. And Dean, Dean was as male as they came. Cas could see him in his mind's eye, clad in black leather and red silk; chest glistening with sweat as he danced.

Houses had crumbled and burned, people arrested and put in the hospital as Cas searched for Dean. It was the only time people in Sin kept their mouths shut. The old, wood door splintered beneath a planted boot, Castiel didn't need to look to know Dean wasn't here, that nothing had been in this rotting place for a while. Still he looked upstairs and in the basement and found a crack head huddle in corner.

Shaking off dust he made his way back outside, kicking wood out of the way and splashing up water that was pooled on the stairs. Someone he didn't know was leaning against his Charger and that was…odd….because he knew everyone in Sin. And not one of them was actually a friend….expect Dean.

"Can I help you." It wasn't a question, it was a statement; gruff and bordering on the edges of rude.

The woman was almost as tall as he was, lean with flaming red hair draping over his shoulders. A wool coat hung off her shoulders and framed the blue t-shirt she wore. A studded belt held up dark jeans….and she had better not have scratched his paint.

"FBI. Agent Anna Milton." She flashed him here credentials.

"FBI? I didn't think the bureau even knew Sin existed, let alone actually policed the area."

"It came to our attention that you were investigating Michael."

"Really, I don't see how that can be seeing as how official I'm suspended from duty which means I haven't exactly been writing reports."

"I have my ways."

"Hmmm." Cas dug out a cigarette from the crumbled pack smashed in his back pocket. "Let me see your badge again."

Anna held it out, clenching her fingers when he tried to take it.

"You're obviously not with the bureau, so who the hell are you?"

"Someone that can help you find Michael."

Smoke snaked from between his lips and Castiel narrowed his eyes. "And what would be in it for you?"

"He took someone close to me. We can help each other."

"Thanks, but I can find him on my own." He opened the door to Charger…

"Do you think you can find Dean before Michael sales him? From what I hear he's….something, he'll go fast on the market."

Castiel crowded into her space, pushing her back against the car. "How do you know about Dean?"

"People in this city have a bad habit of talking for the right price." She slithered out from between him and the car and made her way to a waiting bike. The red painted gleamed and it started with an angry roar. "Look, I could use the help and so could you. And Dean only has a day left, maybe two if he's lucky. Then Michael will have him shipped out of Sin and you won't see him again."

…..

The hotel Anna was staying in wasn't…the best in the world but probably was the best Sin had to offer. Newspaper clippings and police reports that Castiel didn't question how she obtained were tacked to the wall. The bed was weak looking, drooping in the middle and bulging at the top. The headboard was cracked in places and Castiel thought it a real possibility that it would snap beneath the weight of a feather.

"Michael's from Russia," Anna handed Castiel a beer she retrieved from the corner fridge and was obliviously doing a shitty job seeing as the bottle and deer piss liquor were room temperature. "That's where he began. I don't know how he got into the business, no one seems to, and he just popped up on the criminal radar over night."

"Never heard of him before now."

"Not surprising, he'd never ventured over into the states before a year ago. But now there's a demand for young American males….and Sin's a perfect place for him to set up shop."

With the police up for sale by the highest bidder….Sin was the perfect place for all criminal activity. Still human trafficking was something even the most corrupted cop had to frown upon.

"Do you know where he is?"

Anna sipped from her bottle. "I got an idea. But he'll be protected."

"You going to let that stop you?"

Anna smirked, tonguing off excess beer from her bottom lip. "Nope."

"We won't be able to call for back-up."

"From what I hear about you, we won't need back-up."

Ж

The warehouse was on the water, the too cold wind carrying the scent of the ocean. Castiel counted five guards on the outside and Anna said there would be another dozen inside. According to her layouts of the place Dean would be in basement along with the rest of Michael's 'stock'. Castiel wasn't sure he could trust…hell he was sure he couldn't.

Taking out the guards posted on the dock was easy. Anna had been trained, she wouldn't say by who or where, but she'd been trained. And she took out two guard's silent and easy, with a snap of her wrist and quick fist. The other three splashed into the water, one after another and the skin of Cas' knuckles were raw and bruised by the time they were down.

Six men on the top level, six more on the bottom. They took the top first and Cas didn't come out of that one as easily; a knife to his side had him biting back a curse. But they managed to keep the others from being alerted. The next six went with more of a fight, shots were fired….and shit everyone else knew they were here.

Ж

Dean heard the crack/pop and knew what it was, hope swelled in his chest and he tried to fight it down because if it wasn't Cas this time…..The metal door to his 'cell' groaned as it was pushed open and Dean braced himself. He felt like a car on show that Michael was flaunting. The past few…days?...hours?...saw groups of men coming and going. Oohing and awing over the awesomeness that was Dean, and yeah sure in any other situation he'd be all for it. Now it gave him a sick feeling, and he thought if his throat would work properly he'd throw up.

"Dean? Are you Dean?" There was a pretty little red-head holding a mean looking gun. He tried for a cheeky grin as he answered and failed miserably. "I'm Anna, Cas has been looking for you."

"Cas? Is he-" He swallowed, or at least tried to the action causing him to choke. His body shook forcefully, painfully, and he heard the chains jiggling; felt them release. "Thanks." It came out as a croak, but Dean counted it as a win that it came out at all.

"He's here, he's here Dean." Anna helped up, shoulder most of his weight onto her. He knew it couldn't be comfortable for her but he was damn grateful because otherwise he doubted he'd be able to stand.

"Who are you?"

Her smile was the prettiest thing he'd seen in what had been a hell-of-a long time.

"A friend."