Some of this is kind of inspired by the season 9 promo...Dean just looks like he gets his ass handed to him, and I couldn't pass up the opportunity to beat up on him a little more. I might've overdosed on the sass a little bit, so I apologize in advance.

I want to thank you guys for all your lovely reviews and a special thanks to LilyBolt for all the amazing encouragement!

Dean's POV

There must be some kind of international "Fuck the Winchesters" campaign out there that is dedicated to making our lives hell. It's the only explanation for how horrible our luck is. All I have to do is stop off at a goddamn gas station and suddenly I'm cornered by about six friggin demons. Seriously?

I'm so not in the mood. Especially after what happened with Cas. I really thought he was going to kill me back there in that warehouse. I really thought that would be it. And not because another angel forced him to do it. It would've been his choice this time, and his alone. And God knows I deserved it. I'm still not sure what stopped him, not sure if he won't change his mind, catch me off guard one day and drag a blade across my throat. I actually wouldn't be too surprised if he joined in on the "Beat the Shit out of Dean Winchester" show that's currently in full swing.

They were ready for me the second I walked in the door. No time to react, suddenly they're just rushing me. At least the first one's not so lucky. Years of training kick in, and he's got Ruby's knife in his chest before the other five mooks even have time for a second step in my direction. Unfortunately, they've still got the numbers.

Still, if I do say so myself, it's a hell of a fight.

I manage to take out two more demons, but not before they get a couple good shots in. One particular punch finds its mark in my gut, another to the cheek only seconds later. I manage to thrust my knife into the owner of those fists, but it sticks there, still impaled in his now writhing body as he falls to the floor. One of the three remaining demons takes this opportunity to ram me into one of the flimsier convenience store shelves, sending Slim Jims and Fritos flying as it topples over. I groan and toss some Cheetos in their general direction from my position on the floor. My head's a little fuzzy and some absurd part of my brain wonders if demons would even like Cheetos. Shit, you're losing it Winchester. Come on, focus.

I make a move to get up, but the demons are already dragging me to my feet, one on each arm. The third has shifted to stand in front of me, no doubt ready for his monologue.

"My god you guys just get uglier and uglier, don't you?" I smirk, showing bloody teeth.

He smiles wickedly and sends two quick punches right to the nose. Fuck, that's definitely broken. He throws in a few kidney shots for good measure and Jesus Christ this guy must be some kind of UFC fighter because I'm pretty sure he just ruptured my damn appendix. I'm too busy wheezing to notice that he's started in on the monologuing already.

Dammit, I probably missed the best part where he talks about all the things he's planning on doing to me. Bummer.

I think he senses that I'm not fully tuned into what he's saying because he grabs my chin a second later, jerking my face within inches of his own.

"Where is he?" he spits menacingly.

I smile at him again and manage to groan out, "You're gonna have to be a bit more specific." He shakes me hard enough that my brain starts doing cartwheels in my skull and I almost lose my lunch.

"WHERE'S CROWLEY?" He screams, slapping me hard across the face. I cough, tasting nothing but iron in my mouth. It's a good thing I'm in a convenience store because I'm gonna need a soda when this is over.

"Never heard of him, sorry. Sounds like a douche-bag though."

Apparently that was the wrong thing to say. Who knew? He starts in with more punches to the gut, and this time I can't hold back the blood and bile that forces its way up my throat, leaking down onto my chin. Shit. The edges of my vision are blurring and I know I won't stay conscious much longer. And then suddenly I catch movement out of the corner of my half-closed eye.

No no no no no Cas, just walk away, I scream at him in my head. I only see him for a second as he passes by the glass doors of the store, trying to find another way in, no doubt. Dammit Cas.

I once told him that without his angel mojo he was basically just a baby in a trench coat. And now he doesn't even have the damn coat. I hadn't asked him about that yet, about where he got the drawstring hoodie and jeans, because I wasn't sure I wanted to know. He just seemed so broken. And now that same broken angel is gonna try to fight his way through three demons to try and save my worthless ass, possibly while he's unarmed. Great.

UFC demon is blabbering again and I'm finding it increasingly difficult to focus on the words that come between each punch. And then, out of nowhere, the punches have stopped and I've somehow made it back onto the floor, lying on my side, my face cushioned by a few dozen Hershey bars. It's been a while since I've had a nice bar of chocolate...

Fuck Dean, focus.

I struggle to keep my eyes open, only able to pick up on a few blurs of movement in front of me. I hope to God it's Cas who's winning because I'm not gonna be much help at the moment. My insides feel like jello and my face is basically just a big mass of blood and torn skin at this point. I'm still holding onto my last dregs of awareness when I sense that the fighting has finally stopped. Blinking hard, I squint at the blurred shape now kneeling before me.

"Dean?" it asks.

"Hiya Cas," I grin. Relief fills me, and I slump completely to the ground, finally giving in to the sweet pull of unconsciousness.

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