"Thank God, you're....bleeding." Sammy took a step back from the bed.

Dean was comatose and falling slowly from Castiel's shoulder. Castiel's kneels buckled as he was grabbing for the bed.

"Shit!" Sam lunged in by his shoulder, taking the brunt of Dean's stomach as he fell on his back to the floor. Three sets of legs were tangled together, Sam's feet planted firmly between Castiel's knelt form. Sam took a moment to extradite himself before surveying the damage.

Pulling Dean out of Castiel's wearied grip by the collar, he put his ear to his brother's mouth and listened to the almost calm and yet slightly labored breathing.

"Stay with me, Dean."

"Sammy?" His voice was groggy and his eyes were closed, but he was responsive. "We have to find..."

"No, stay with me." Sam's voice rose in panic, no matter how he tried to delay it. Dean was going in and out of consciousness. Sam took quick stock of the medical and food supplies in the room, thanking God they had enough between the room and the Impala to give him a week to work with before anything more drastic became necessary.

Beginning to comprehend the fact that Dean was indeed naked when he had definently left with clothing, Sam put the itching worry in the back of his mind that Dean's wallet and at least one of his aliases were floating about. At the moment, he was breathing, but probably not too dehydrated. Unfortunately, Sam could tell he was suffering from the beginning stages of heat exhaustion, especially evident in his fingers, forehead, and the way he was sweating from his underarms when they weren't shaking.

"Okay, one problem at a time. Lets get you into bed, bro, and then assess your rescuer."

Grunting as he attempted a firemans carry, Sam brought Dean up to his knees. Sam began groaning and pushing until he found himself laying on a bed with his brother crashed and spread out on top of him in a tenuous state of consciousness. Blinking with wide eyes, Sam murmured to himself. "It never gets easier."

Rolling himself out from under Dean, Sam found his brother completely inactive but, thank God, still breathing. Gripping Dean's arm, Sam forced his brother to turn and placed him under the sheet so that he'd be as comfortable as possible.

Taking a couple of staggering steps back, he grabbed a glass on the desk table nearby that was littered with a cornucopia of junk. Pouring half a bottle of water into glass, he slammed it back with a large gulp. Shaking his head, he emptied the other half of the bottle into a glass and then put in a powder mixture that would help Dean, a trick he had learned from Jo in what seemed like ancient times.

Placing the water and powder mixture onto the nightstand between the two beds, one now disheveled and full of a naked Dean, he turned to the half squatting and half laying angel that was starting to come to on the floor.

"Dean."

Sam rushed over, trying to help Castiel up from the floor, but he knew it was a mistake the moment he placed his arm under Castiel's arm. Castiel started to swing which caused Sam to fly back a little and bounce off of Dean's bed. Castiel slurred groggily as he collapsed back on the ground.

"Oh great." Sam sighed from his place on the floor, thinking that maybe it was time to reassess his position on Team Free Will.

Walking over to another bottle of water on the table, he turned over a clean portion of towel that he had been using to clean the inside parts of a revolver with. Turning the bottle upside down, it soaked the half white rag. Sam ran the towel over his face to clean up the minor bleeding spots that Castiel had given him.

Dipping the towel in the water for a second time, he walked over to the closed eyes of Castiel and admired his sleeping form, seeing the furrowed lines in his brow and how they connected for the first time. Cleaning away the now dried dots of blood welling out of Castiel's pores, he realized that the angel's vessel simply wasn't going to be able to withstand further teleportation, which would be a great blow to Dean's morale that he was hiding desperately under the sarcastic veneer.

Having cleaned up Castiel's face, Sam slapped it gently until Castiel groaned back to life.

"Thank you, Sam. Is Dean..."

Sam nodded, as he reached out his hand so he could help Castiel back up. Castiel's knees were still incredibly wobbly and it took more than a few seconds to maneuver him so he could sit comfortably on the empty bed.

"He's resting."

Castiel nodded in return. "That's good. He didn't suffer any internal injuries that I could tell, but we'll need to watch over him."

Sam caught Castiel's gaze in the interim of silence. "What happened? One moment you two were in contact outside a demon bar and next..."

"Whoever it was is very dangerous, Sam. You don't need angelic powers to tell you that man is evil, reckless, dangerous."

"Was he possessed...do we have to worry about...?"

Castiel shook his head slowly. "No. Please, though, just a bit of water first."

Sam nodded, trying to keep his knees from trembling as Castiel took a gulp of water and began telling Sam what had transpired right before he had used a lot of his angelic reserves to rescue Dean from a very insane and apparently dangerous individual whom had just happened to be at the bar the same night Dean was looking for information on something. At least they had the Impala where they were, safely far in a different state from the bar. Thank god for rental loans, Sam thought.

"Well, we're safe for right now," Sam sighed.

"I hit you. I apologize." Castiel stated bluntly as he watched Sam move with a choppy motion along his arm.

Sam peeled his shirt away from shoulder, noticing the blotch of bruises that were already forming. "Nah, don't be. You came up swinging. I don't blame you. Just wish we had more info on this guy. He has one of Dean's aliases and it ain't gonna be pretty if we don't find out anything about him."

Castiel's eyes were searching for somewhere he could look in the room that was not Dean's bed. "It's my fault. I was hasty in rescue, didn't take time to observe details."

"You can't blame yourself, man. You saved my brother's life." Sam placed his arm on Castiel's shoulder in a show of solidarity. They were both too worried about Dean being comatose to concentrate on much else.

Somewhere a few states away, Dean was also the subject of quite a bit of ire.

"Where in the hell does he get off having a guardian angel?"

Angelus was sitting on his throne, tapping his claws in his mahogany chairs until their were dents. He had thrown a tantrum upon arrival, storming his rage upon two fledglings until they both staked themselves just to escape his ire. The remaining lower portions of his court had scattered and no one could be sure in the higher ranks if they should even worry about the ashy debris.

"Tell me something good about this guy. You've had time. No one's even bothered to clean up the ashes yet!"

"I'll go get a..."

Even a prince of the court can make a mistake. The deer in headlights look was unmistakable as Angelus flew at him from his chair, grabbing him by the collar until his cold breath was growling. "And why has it taken you so long to retrieve a broom and clean up the mess you made?"

The prince stuttered, but was saved by a dreamy female voice. "Daddy, don't destroy any more of your toy army. That simply will not do. Lets have a play first."

Tossing the prince away from his fingers with disgust, Angelus smirked, his mind hazy with lust and anger. "Of course, Drusilla. Without you, I would lose my head."

Drusilla floated around Angelus' ornate throne on its raised platform that overlooked the abandoned funeral parlor in LA that had once belonged to the necromancer. It had fantastic floors of authentic Italian marble and dark mahogany libraries. It had all the atmosphere of the old Sunnydale mansion without any of those bothersome vampire slayers to muck about the place.

"Come."

Angelus extended a single regal claw and the prince of the court with the broom, who gulped and began to shiver. For all his power and prestige, he was still a fledgling and he quaked each time he thought of Angelus and the road of destruction that lay both before and behind him.

"Master, I..."

Angelus grimaced darkly as he reached out for the prince's throat. "That does not require speech. How young are you?"

Drusilla giggled. "Silly daddy, he can't answer if he can't speak at all."

"That's the point, Dru." Angelus answered through gritted fangs. "But he doesn't even show initiative. I wonder if he's good for anything."

Drusilla moaned. "His fear is delicious. Make his eyeballs turn in the back of his head."

Angelus nodded at the terrified prince. "Gotta give my girl what she wants. Guess what, young one? You have a chance to sit in the chair." In a flash, Angelus had tightened his grip on the throat, twisting it in his hand as he bent the prince over the chair while he ground his burgeoning bulge from behind. "Of course, its probably not the way you want it."

"Make him scream, Daddy." Drusilla purred as she slashed the boy's cheek with her nails.

"I'm gonna do to you what that angel interrupted."

Angelus didn't bother ripping off the boy's clothes. He tore a slit where the ass was in the black khaki fabric and then unzipped his own pants. Pumping his cock in and out of his own hands, he growled.

"Feels good. You ready for this boy? Be glad you can heal."

Angelus shoved his uncut cock in the prince without lube or a condom. The prince screamed as black, congealed blood leaked from his hole just slightly. Angelus' long, hard cock pierced him, breaking his hymen and hitting him beyond his prostate.

"Must be nice to get fucked by the great Angelus, huh? Isn't it an honor? You gonna tell me?" Angelus punctuated each question with a deeper pound, a quicker thrust, until the boy fell to the side of the chair in pain. He was dazed enough that he fell to the floor the moment that Angelus grabbed him by the scruff of the neck to reset him.

"I don't think he was up to the task, daddy."

Angelus looked down at his cock and shook his head as he wanked himself quickly, spilling a load all over the shocked prince's face before tucking himself in. "You know what Dru? You're right. Never send a boy to do a man's job."

Drusilla's eyes sparkled. "Are you bringing down the man with the angel?"

Angelus chuckled as he thought of Dean begging to be fucked raw, screaming and begging and pleading until Angelus gouged every hole he had a couple that he could make. "And everyone he knows. C'mon, Dru, lets go find some food to play with. Hell hath no fury like the hungry before a long trip."

Drusilla clapped her hands with glee. "Can I have a young one, fresh from a game Daddy?"

Angelus offered his arm, which she accepted as they exited the building. "You can have whatever you want. You just have to finish off the young prince before we leave."