Febuwhump Day Twelve: Spiked Drink. Someone slips something into Dean's drink and he finds himself in an dark alley, praying to Cas for help.

Title: In the Alleyway

Dean and Cas were perched at the bar, Cas with his hands neatly folded on the counter and Dean lazily leaned over, taking hefty sips from his mug. "You always look so serious," Dean said with a teasing air.

Cas's face lightened and he turned to smile at Dean. Dean loved to watch those moments where his face transformed from austere to gentle from his words alone. "I think that is my neutral expression."

"Well, I like it when you smile," Dean's cheeks were warm, but he chose to blame it on the alcohol. He polished off the beer and held up a finger to the bartender to indicate he needed another.

"Thank you, Dean. I like your smile as well."

"That's because I'm adorable," Dean joked, but his stomach danced from the compliment, "Why don't you get a beer? Don't make me drink alone," he wanted Cas to feel the same charged excitement he was experiencing. He wanted something to blame the feelings on, the ones that he kept trying to crush whenever Cas was around.

"Beer doesn't really affect me," Cas reminded him, "What about whiskey?"

Dean clapped him on the back. "Attaboy!"

A buzzing interrupted them and Cas reached into his pocket to pull out his cell. "Jack," Cas read aloud, "Probably wants to say goodnight. I'll be back."

Dean gave a small wave as Cas walked away and he was glad to see the bartender come by to hand him a fresh glass. He gulped it down and glanced over his shoulder at the entrance where Cas had disappeared. They spent a lot of time alone together now, Dean always suggesting they go places Sam would be uninterested in, relishing in the private moments of his best friend's company. Sometimes his stomach would get twisted up when Cas looked at him, kind eyes sparkling in the light, and he would have to look away and wonder what the hell was going on with him lately. Other times, he didn't care. Cas would make him laugh so hard that tears sprung from the corners of his eyes and his heart felt like it might explode so that he would pull Cas into his arms and hold him close.

Dean didn't realize he had gotten lost staring at the bubbles in his beer until someone spoke beside him.

"Hi," a man said. Dean looked up and saw that he was broad with a V-neck, olive skin, and clipped, dark hair. He flashed his teeth at Dean.

"Hey," Dean said gruffly, doing his best not to inspire any further conversation.

"I don't normally see you around here," he commented. Dean knew where this was going.

"Not interested."

The man held up his hands. "Didn't mean it like that. I work here on weekends and you're not one of our regulars. Was wondering if you were new around here."

"Oh," Dean felt slightly guilty for the preemptive rejection, "Just passing through."

"Cool. I'm Justin by the way."

"Dean."

The pretty bartender approached them and set a shot glass in front of Justin. "Thanks, May. You know me too well."

"I agree," she laughed lightly, "Don't you spend enough time here already?"

"Stockholm syndrome," Justin explained and she shook her head as she walked away. Dean observed the conversation with little interest, wishing that Cas would return and spare him from this interaction. "Where's your friend?" Justin asked as if sensing Dean's thoughts.

Dean twisted in his stool to look at the front door. What was taking him so long anyways? He tried to peer through the windows, but couldn't spot Cas through the smudged glass. "Dunno," he turned back around and did his best not to glare at Justin. He was inches away from barking at him to go away, but instead he chugged the rest of his beer and threw another finger in the air for the bartender.

"Her name's Linda. Are you interested? I can get you her number," Justin watched as Linda poured drinks on the other side of the bar.

"I'm good," it's not that Cas would be mad if he ditched him for a girl, but Dean had no desire for it. He preferred Cas's company nowadays. Maybe he was getting old.

Dean furrowed his eyebrows and set both his hands on the counter. His stomach churned and he felt strangely woozy. He'd only had four beers so he shouldn't be this drunk. He shut his eyes and focused on not falling out of his chair. His head grew hot and in some capacity, he was aware that he was swaying.

"You don't look so good," Just sounded concerned.

Dean slapped a hand over his mouth as his stomach grumbled. "I'm gonna be sick."

"Come on, back door's right here," Justin stood and held Dean's forearm as they stumbled out the emergency exit that led into an alley. Dusk was settling and the sun was obscured by the buildings so he had to strain to see. Dean held his hands against the wall and vomited on the dirty concrete. The alley smelled like rotten food and urine, only adding to the nausea.

Dean hacked, but dislodging all the liquor and food from lunch didn't soothe the acid rolling around in his stomach. When he was finally empty and only acidic bile was left, he wiped his mouth and leaned against the wall. "What happ'nd?" when he tried to talk, the words came out slurred.

"I think you should sit," Justin held a hand to his back and guided Dean further down the alley, past a rancid garbage bin. Dean's brain was on the fritz, but he suddenly realized there was no reason to be moving further from the door and he halted. When he tried to turn around, Justin's gentle hand became forceful and unsympathetic. He grabbed Dean's shoulder and threw him against the wall. Dean tried to ball his hands into fists, but he couldn't tighten his muscles all the way. When he raised his arms to attack, they were heavy and it took all his power just to hold them up. "Wha'd you do to me?"

Justin grabbed him by his wrists and forced him backwards, pinning him against the building. Dean struggled against the grip, but Justin's strength may as well have been superhuman. Dean tried to raise a knee and strike him in the crotch, but his leg slid out from beneath him and he lost his balance, only propped up by Justin's hold on his wrists. "Get th' fuck off me," Dean tried to growl, but the words came out jumbled.

Justin's body was pressed against Dean's, covering him, making it hard to breathe, and Dean felt Justin's hard dick as it grinded against him. Justin leaned in and kissed him roughly. Dean tried to shout, but Justin's mouth caught the noise and muffled the protests. How did this happen? Even through the fog, Dean knew his drink was spiked. On some level, he believed his tolerance would protect him from something like this, but he was so helpless now. He never expected this to happen, after all the horrors he had been victim to. Dean refused to stop fighting, but it was barely noticeable to Justin. He clasped both of Dean's wrists in one hand, freeing up his other. He slid the hand down Dean's body and then crawled beneath his shirt, caressing his muscles. The touch repulsed Dean and he thought he might wretch right into Justin's mouth.

'Cas! Cas!' Dean screamed a prayer. Justin's fingers traveled back down him and tugged on his belt.

And then Justin's hands released him and his body was no longer suffocating him. Without his wrists pinned up, Dean dropped to the floor, slamming his tailbone into the unforgiving ground. He groaned and peered up to see Cas holding a hand on Justin's forehead, light flowing out of his mouth and eyes as he was smited. The flash ached Dean's throbbing head and he ducked behind his hands.

A few seconds passed and there was a kind touch on his shoulder. An understanding, loving touch. Dean didn't need to look to know it was Cas crouching beside him, he simply fell into the angel's arms.

"I'm so sorry," Cas's voice was deep and sober. He adjusted himself, moving Dean like a rag doll, so that he could sit with his back against the wall and his legs out straight. Dean let himself drop into Cas's lap, resting his head on his thighs. The attack had taken it out of him. He breathed heavily, even through the dizziness, he was still trapped by the fear of what could have happened.

"Cas," even saying his name relieved some of the panic.

"I'm here, Dean," Cas placed a hand on Dean's arm to remind him, but Dean couldn't forget. Cas was all he knew right now - he was everything. He was Dean's safe place, his anchor to the world, his savior. Dean clumsily reached for Cas's hand and moved it onto his head. Cas understood the instruction and tenderly ran his fingers through Dean's hair. Dean was sure that nothing had ever felt this good and he allowed himself to completely relax for the first time since they'd walked into the bar. "You're okay now. You're safe. I'm right here. It's over now," Cas murmured.

For the past few months, this was what he wanted. He pretended he didn't know what he would do if he weren't encumbered by the weight of his fear, or that he had no explanation for the feelings that Cas's smile evoked, but deep down, he knew this was it. He wanted Cas to stroke his hair, to curl up in his lap and soak in his existence, immersed in nothing but the two of them together, listening to the rumble of his voice as he whispered loving comforts. He tried to hang on to the moment, needing it to go on forever, but he slipped slowly into sleep while Cas pet his hair and promised he was safe.