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Dean rolled over, his mind still a hazy, sleepy blur. He vaguely noticed how much space he seemed to have, giving a happy groan and stretching his legs out over the whole bed. He was cold, so he pulled the covers up more. It was all good. Except it wasn't.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes and sitting up, trying to figure out what was wrong with the picture. He looked around blearily. Sammy. Where the fuck – right, they'd gotten separate rooms. Why though?

Dean chewed his lip, trying to remember. His face cleared. Oh yeah! It was because he and Cas – oh. Oh.

"Son of a bitch," he murmured, more incredulous than anything else.

Cas wasn't there. He'd gone. He'd just – left.

Dean stared at nothing for a while, trying very very hard not to completely lose it. No, come on. There had to be some kind of logical explanation. He'd probably just.. gone to get breakfast. Yeah. Because there was no way in fucking hell that Cas would just leave after yesterday, right?

A hard knocking on the door made him jump, and a grin broke out on his face. See? There was nothing to worry about. He was just a paranoid little bitch.

He opened the door, still grinning. "Cas, buddy, I thought you -"

Sam stared at him with raised eyebrows. Dean faltered. He cleared his throat.

"Hey."

"Uh, hey Dean. So.. I'm just gonna go ahead an assume Cas isn't with you?"

Dean turned around, his back to Sam. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath to recollect himself before turning back around to Sam with a cheery grin.

"Nope. Guess he must have taken off."

He turned around again, letting the grin slide off his face as he walked towards the bathroom.

"I'm gonna have a shower. You want to get breakfast?"

Sam looked at him, frowning. After a few moments, he quietly said, "Yeah."

It wasn't until Sam had gone that Dean punched the bathroom mirror so hard it shattered into pieces.

Later that day, the brothers were having lunch in a diner. Dean was silent, playing around with his chips and not paying attention to Sam's chatter.

"So then I ate the shoe and started shitting rainbows."

"Uhuh."

"I also decided to start growing a vagina. I got the seeds and everything."

"Right."

"Vagina seeds. To grow a vagina."

"Cool."

"You wanna help me water it?"

"Sure."

Sam slapped Dean on the head. "For fuck's sake! You haven't been listening to a word I've been saying since we left the motel, have you?"

"Uh.. no."

The youngest Winchester sighed. "Look, Dean. Let's talk about this."

Dean took a bite from his burger. "Let's not."

"Damn it, Dean. I'm sure he had a perfectly good reason for leaving. This just.. isn't like Cas, right?"

Dean shrugged. "Good reason or no, it doesn't change the fact that he just left. He could have at least woken me up. But, y'know, whatever. If that's how it is, it's fine by me."

"Shut up. No it's not, you lying coward. This is just your 'I'm so hurt I'm gonna pretend I don't give a single shit' move. You can't fool me, Dean," Sam said sternly.

He was rewarded by a chip being chucked at his face.

"Mature."

"Bitch."

"Jerk."

"Right, you done having your Dr Phil moment? 'Cause I'd like to get along with the case," the eldest Winchester snapped.

"Whatever, Dean. This conversation isn't over."

"So, got any new leads?" Dean smirked, completely ignoring the last comment.

Sam glared at him before sighing. "No. I can't seem to get a hold of Gabe, so he can't help either."

"Aww, your boyfriend finally ditched ya?"

"I'd really not say anything if I were you."

Dean realised Sam was right, and he took another bite from his burger. They were silent for some time.

"Hey, Sammy?"

"Yeah?"

"Wanna go out tonight? We haven't hit a bar in ages, man."

"You went to a bar only last -"

"You know what I mean! C'mon man, we need some time to relax. Just the two of us."

Sam smiled at him. "I'm going to have to pass, Dean. I'm pretty fucking tired. How 'bout next week, yeah?"

Dean forced a smile back. "Sure, Sammy. Come on, let's go."

And that's how he ended up sitting alone at the bar in The fucking Playpen, since it was the closest to the motel room.

"What can I get you, hun?" the barmaid asked.

Dean eyed her vaguely. She was attractive, he supposed. She was caramel-skinned, and had the most striking blue eyes. He refused to believe they reminded him of someone.

You're thinking of rebound sex? Seriously, Dean?

He shook off his conscience, smiling at her. "Just a beer, sweetheart."

She handed him his beer, leaning down on the counter. "The name's Shannon."

"Dean."

"What brings you here, Dean?" Shannon asked, smiling.

"Oh, you know. Just passing through," he answered, taking a swig from his beer.

"I saw you here a couple of days ago with another guy, didn't I? The really tall one?" Shannon asked curiously, eyeing his drink.

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, that would be my sasquatch of a brother, Sam." He paused, blinking slowly. "It's not.. it's not very busy in here, is it?"

Was it him or was it getting seriously hot in here?

"Well, that may have to do with the fact that it's the middle of the week," Shannon laughed.

Her laugh echoed through Dean's head as he closed his eyes and shook his head. He opened them again, trying to focus on her face but everything kept going all blurry.

"You want another drink, hun?" she asked, smiling and running her hand down his neck.

"No.. no, I'm – I'm good," Dean managed to slur.

He noticed the few people who were scattered across the place starting to near him. He saw, rather than felt, himself slipping off the stool and onto the ground, five or six people around him, Shannon one of them.

"What the.." he mumbled, his tongue like cotton in his mouth.

He heard a snarl and then everything went black.

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When Dean came to, his arms were chained above his head and his head was thumping horribly. He was in a dark, cold room, his breath coming in small clouds before him. The situation dawned on him.

"Fuck," he rasped, tugging on the chains.

Dean took deep breaths, willing himself to calm down. Right. Okay. He'd been in worse situations, right? He closed his eyes again, trying to remember exactly what had happened.

He remembered.. flirting just a little bit with the barmaid.. getting a drink..

And then waking up here, a dark, stuffy room that smelled of mould with his arms chained above his head. Fucking typical.

His thoughts were interrupted, however, by the door opening. He immediately went as still as possible. The now open door let in a stream of dim light. Dean frowned up at the silhouette walking towards him.

He assumed it was a guy, since it was big and bulky. Dean's hackles rose, and he started tugging furiously at the chains.

The next moment his body was being pressed down, and he yelled as he felt needle-like teeth sink into his arm.

The teeth sunk deeper into his skin, and he gasped as he felt the blood being sucked from his body.

Dean had been so consumed by pain that he hadn't noticed more vampires entering the room until teeth were sinking into every inch of his body.

He heard a blood-curling scream. He realised it was his.

Dean tried to fight them off desperately, but it was no use. They were holding him down so firmly that he couldn't even move his head.

He felt one of them bite into his side, sucking and lapping at the blood coming free. Another one in his neck. Another one in his wrist. His calf. His shoulder.

Dean was shuddering and moaning, his ears filled with his own sounds of pain and the vampires' appreciative hums and lapping and sucking. His nose was filled with the scent of his own blood.

"All right, that's enough. We don't want him to be drained in one go, do we?"

Through the red mist of blood and pain that engulfed his mind, he vaguely recognised the voice. It didn't strike him as important enough to try and remember, though. He let out a shuddering gasp as the teeth left his body. His eyes fell closed, as every bit of him bled and pulsed and trembled.

"You can have more later, my lovelies. Leave us," the cold voice said, barely registering with Dean.

He gasped as cold water got thrown into his face, his eyes flying open. Slowly but surely, they focused on the woman crouching in front of him.

Caramel-skinned, brown, curly hair. Piercing blue eyes.

"Hey there, Dean," she smiled at him, running a finger along his cheek.

"Shannon," he coughed through gritted teeth.

"Actually, it's Alisha."

Dean spat some blood at her. "Like I could give a shit," he snarled, although it came out a lot less intimidating than he'd meant, due to his cracking voice and trembling limbs.

"Poor, poor Dean," Alisha sighed, shaking her head. "You're not so strong on your own, are you? Without your brother. Or your angel."

Dean flinched, forcing himself to keep quiet.

"It just took one little slip-up, and look at you now. You're going to die, and no one you love is ever going to see you again," she said pleasantly. "We're going to suck you dry, until all that's left of you is a shell."

"What do you want?" Dean slurred, blood still running down his chin and his tongue feeling thick. Maybe she'd want to bargain. He really hoped she'd want to bargain.

But she just laughed.

"We don't want anything, Dean. We couldn't fucking care less that you're 'the' Dean Winchester. You don't seem so impressive to me at all. No, you're just another brainless sack of meat. A sack of meat filled with delicious blood, to be exact."

She leaned down, licking the blood from Dean's chin. He flinched weakly, turning his head.

"We're going to go slow with you," Alisha then whispered into his ear, her curls tickling his neck. "We're going to make the great Dean Winchester suffer, and then we're going to let your little brother and boyfriend find you. That's what you get for poking around in our business."

Dean remembered that first night, how everything had seemed completely normal at The Playpen. So they'd known all along what they were doing. They had just been waiting for a good time to strike out.

And boy, had they found it.

Thank you for reading, please leave reviews and I'll continue!