Sorry, my muse kind of abandoned me for a little while there. This next chapter was supposed to be Cas's POV but of course I came back to Dean because nothing else was really sticking. So here it is, hope you enjoy!

Dean's POV

We are so fucked.

I know it before I even open my eyes. I can already feel the stiffness in my shoulders and the incessant pounding in my head and the needles that shoot through my mostly numb body.

I know it because I can hear the exact moment Sammy's soft breathing turns into an irritated grunt and then an unnatural scraping of limbs and rope beside me. Eyes still closed, I test the strength of my own ropes, groaning inwardly when I realize there's no give. Where the hell do angels learn to tie knots? Heaven arts and crafts time?

Deciding to play dead for just a little longer, I try to get my bearings. I'm obviously sitting in a chair, my arms bound together behind me and my feet tied separately to the two chair legs. Sam is to my left, barely close enough to touch, so there's no way we can reach each other's ropes. Great, so the usual.

I open my eyes by a millimeter, looking out from beneath my lashes to try to get an idea of where we are. Doesn't take long to figure it out, and I guess it should be obvious that the angels would take us back to our hotel room. The hotel room Sam willingly gave out over the phone- to Kevin, I'm guessing. I smile a little to myself, remembering how Kevin had rolled his eyes at me when I told him about using "funky town" as a code word. I would say I'm a genius for planting that particular piece of knowledge in Kevin's advanced placement brain, but Kevin knowing that we're in trouble actually doesn't do shit for us. It's not like the kid can take on seven angels, and it's not like we have any other friends left alive who could be of any help.

So yeah, we're fucked.

Might as well get this show on the road then. I open my eyes the rest of the way.

"Ah, you're awake," the red-headed angel smirks. I'm about to say something along the lines of 'no shit, Sherlock," but instead I have to bite my lip to keep from cracking up. The seven angels take up the majority of our small hotel room, one shuffling restlessly on his feet, the others sitting awkwardly on the two beds while Sam and I are shoved into the corner farthest from the door. A quick look at my little brother reveals that he's got a bloody nose, but seems otherwise unharmed. For now.

I go back to my assessment of the room, noticing Remiel lurking near the door, glaring at us.

"Didn't know angels had slumber parties," I remark, hoping to piss him off. I can practically feel Sam rolling his eyes next to me, but I had to make some kind of comment. It's just so ridiculous seeing these so-called celestial beings sitting together on a floral print duvet surrounded by barf green curtains and a TV that looks like it's from 1986.

"You know Cas is still probably a ways out, you guys could go grab some dinner while you wait. Don't let us keep you. We'll be fine, really," I prompt when my first comment spurs no reaction.

This time, Red stands up from where she had been sitting on my bed, coming to stand right in front of me. She leans in close, her long fingers sliding along the length of my jaw, her voice a whisper in my ear.

"I'm going to enjoy killing you." She says it almost seductively, ruffling my hair before she moves back to look at both of us. "Won't be long now anyway, I suppose we could get started early. I mean obviously Castiel must suffer- it won't be a quick death for him, after all the things he's done. And yours shouldn't be either. You are the Winchesters after all."

Me and Sam share a quick glance, and I can see the fear that hovers just behind his eyes. That fear becomes more pronounced when Red turns back to face us, angel blade in hand and a cruel smile twisting her features.

"Who's first?" she asks, flipping the blade expertly in her hands.

"Oh come on, you angels have lived for thousands of years and you can't wait five minutes for Cas to show up?" I'm trying to stall, the ropes digging into my wrists as I try to twist out of them, but they still won't budge.

Red laughs, short and unamused. "We've waited long enough, believe me," she says. Sam lets out a surprised yell when the blade suddenly slices across his shoulder, blood quickly soaking the front of his shirt.

"Hey!" I protest, pulling more furiously against my ropes. Red ignores me, her full attention on my little brother. I feel the warm stickiness of my own blood dripping from my wrists, but it only makes me struggle harder as the angel blade makes another pristine line of red across Sam's torso. He doesn't make a sound this time, but I can still hear the scream in my head- it's one I've heard far too many times before. A few more well-placed slashes across his skin and I'm past rage, screaming and spitting curses at the angels that still sit, expressionless on our beds. None of them have so much as moved since we first came back to consciousness, nor do they seem to have any interest in the situation unfolding in front of them. They watch with chilling indifference. I turn my attention back to Red, seething.

"I'll kill you, I swear. I will fucking kill you. Getting your hands off him," I hiss.

She finally turns to look at me, eyes flashing. "You just won't wait your turn, huh Dean?" she scolds. And suddenly she spins towards me, bringing the angel blade down into my left thigh, tearing through layers of muscle and twisting it until all I know is a white hot agony.

I don't know if it's me or Sam who's screaming. I can't focus on anything. My vision swims in and out, even as I try to push past it, try to fight my way back to the surface.

I think I black out for a few seconds, but Sam's voice brings me back. It's definitely him screaming. I think he's saying my name. No wait...it's different now. Louder. God it's so loud. It doesn't sound like my brother anymore. It doesn't sound human.

It sounds almost...demonic.

I force my eyes open, taking in the suddenly drastically different scene in front of me. The first thing I notice is the door...or what used to be the door anyway. It's in splinters on the floor now. And there's a dead angel lying atop the pieces, chest torn open and eyes wide. There's flashes of movement all around me, and I try to focus in on them, but everything is so blurry and unfocused. And then I feel the slice of a knife against my ropes and suddenly my shoulders are screaming, hanging limp and useless at my sides. Two more quick slices at my ankles and then Sam is in my face, shaking me viciously.

"DEAN! DEAN, COME ON!"

I know I need to move. But nothing wants to work and everything is fading in and out like some weird dream and then suddenly I'm out of the chair, the pain in my shoulder moving at least six points up the Richter scale as Sam pulls my arm over his own shoulders, trying to hold my weight. I force my feet to move but my left leg is completely useless so it turns into more of a pathetic, one-legged hop, my eyes trained on the opening that was once the door to our room, left leg dragging behind.

The blast of cold air when we finally make it outside is welcomed, helps me find the extra surge of energy I need to make it to the Impala parked a few meters away. I think Sam is talking to me but his words are coming too fast, too low, and all I can do is collapse into the passenger seat. I feel the rumble of the engine and I hear the squeal of the tires as Sam tears out of the parking lot, and I realize that somehow we've survived.

I want to let go so bad. I want to fade into the painless darkness that beckons to me from just behind my eyelids, but I have to know one thing first.

"S'mmy...you...you...okay?" I manage, focusing hard to catch the next words out of Sam's mouth.

"Y...yeah Dean, I'm okay," he responds. "Just...hold on."

I should notice the absolutely terrified pitch of his voice, the stricken look on his face. I should see the way his hands tremble against the steering wheel. But instead I let myself drop into oblivion.

Thanks for staying with me. I think next chapter is Sam's POV. I'll get back to Cas's adventures eventually, I promise! I can't stand having him separated from our boys for too long anyway.