Fandom: Supernatural

Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/Lisa Braeden, Castiel/Balthazar

Rating: M/E

Warning: Underage, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con

He opened his eyes and immediately realized what had awakened him. To his right, from his brother's bed, came a strong, almost choking cough. He raised himself up on one elbow and sucked in a deep breath of air. He could smell sickness and the bitter odor of the unfortunate little alpha.

"Hey, buddy. You sick?" He asked quietly, his voice laced with concern.

With a rustle, Sammy slowly turned in bed to face Dean. In the lights of the neon and the city that were making their way through the gap between the drawn curtains, his brother's face was pale and his expression was unhappy. Dean didn't need to hear the wheezing gasp that made Sam put his fist in front of his mouth and cough into it again to quickly get up from his bed and sit on the edge of Sam's.

"Let me see you..." he let out as he brushed Sam's long hair away from his face before letting his hand rest on Sam's forehead for a moment. "You're totally on fire, puppy."

"I'm having trouble breathing," Sam grumbled hoarsely, a hint of anger in his voice, the scent of an angry alpha seeping through his sickly scent. In the last few weeks, Sammy had been feeling more and more like an alpha and less and less like the puppy Dean had raised all these years. It looked like his little brother was starting to grow up, even if... right now he was just a cold shivering bundle of sickness.

"Yeah, I think you've caught something. We need to keep you warm." He patted his hand and reached over to his bed to take the blanket from it, which he then draped over Sam and carefully pulled up to his chin. "I'll get you something for your fever," he added, getting up to look through their things.

Most of their bags were still unpacked, having only checked in five days ago. The next day, Dad came home upset, gave Dean the money for the hotel about three weeks in advance, and said he wouldn't be back for a few days. Dean waited another day in case his dad changed his mind, as he had a few times, but when their Alpha really didn't come back, he did what he always did; he mapped the area to see where he could get some money and then enrolled them both in school. He settled them in, but... left some of the bags unpacked, kind of hoping they'd leave as soon as possible.

He didn't like New York. He didn't like big cities.

With a sigh, he opened the canvas bag that served as a first aid kit and began rummaging through it. Bandages, sutures, several kinds of strong painkillers, whole rolls of disposable scalpels, and a bunch of other things passed through his hands, including the hangover cures and antacids his dad used in bulk, until finally... at the very bottom was a bottle of aspirin, rattling with the last pill. One lasted Sammy maybe four or five hours. Then the fever would come back. And since it was just after midnight, by morning he'd be as sick again as he was now.

Damn job.

Dean didn't want to go out at night, not in a neighborhood he didn't know well enough yet, but he had no choice. He had to get something somewhere to bring his fever down, and for that awful cough that was coming from Sam. And instant soup. Much more than they had, because that would be all Sammy could eat for a week or so, regardless of the fact that Dean had to go to school tomorrow and his brother had just managed to dump a bag of it into a bowl and pour water from the kettle.

With a small sigh, he emptied the last of the powder into his palm and then went to get a glass of water. With all that, he returned to Sammy's bedside and carefully saw to it that his brother swallowed the medicine and then finished his glass. He would soon be soaked to the skin and in need of plenty of fluids.

"I was looking forward to school," Sam squeaked as he laid his head back on the pillow.

"Yeah, champ, but they wouldn't have wanted you there snoring like that anyway," he replied, no longer surprised that Sam was looking forward to school. All these days he'd heard him babbling about how they were going to have a big school library here in the big city too, because what did any twelve year old Alpha want? Snooping through shelves of books.

He ruffled Sam's hair again, figuring they should have cut it before he got up and started getting dressed.

"Where are you going?" his brother boomed, pushing himself up on the bed onto his elbow.

"That was the last of the fever pills. I've got to go get you another aspirin and something for your cough and to eat too," he replied as he put on his shoes. "I'll be back in about two hours."

"Be... ohrm... ohrm... careful."

"I will," he assured him with a smile.

He planned to be very careful, especially since it was nighttime and the odor blockers they could afford were about as effective as spit from a llama. Dull nosed Betas were easily fooled, maybe a few Alphas who wouldn't smell twice, but usually all an Alpha had to do was sniff a little and they could smell Dean's unmistakable Omega scent despite them. He had a strong right fist ready just in case, and a nice switchblade in his jacket pocket if that didn't work. He could have brought a gun, too, but that was attracting more attention than was appropriate. He didn't want to get into any shit with his dad anywhere and Sam in charge.

He took out one more of their credit cards and slipped it into his wallet to go with the fake ID before he took one last look at Sam, dozing in his bed, and then left the hotel room.

°°0°°

The shop he normally went to was closed, of course. Nothing to expect at 1:00 in the morning, right? Fortunately, big cities had the advantage that life never stopped here. During the day, people walked the streets doing menial jobs for a living, and at night those same streets were trodden by prostitutes, dealers, drunks, and the poor bar staff either heading to or coming from their shift. So at any time of the day or night, there was someone out there who needed to buy even the most mundane things like bread and a bottle of soda.

Dean didn't have to look hard to find an open store. He'd missed the first one, though, because it didn't look like much, and judging by the smell wafting through the leaky door, the big, fat guy behind the cash register was Alpha. He'd rather risk going further down an unfamiliar street than be locked in a small shop with some greasy Alpha. He had better room to maneuver on the street, he could also run if he needed to, though most of the time he didn't. He was tall and muscular for an Omega, and he was calm when he moved quickly and confidently, aside from the occasional venting and subsequent snide remarks and whistling.

He stopped at another shop and after a quick check through the window decided to enter. He was greeted by music, fresh air almost devoid of odors, permeated by some pretty good air conditioning, and a kind, if rather disinterested, smile from the elderly Beta male behind the cash. He quickly returned it, grabbed his shopping basket - yes, they even had shopping baskets here - and dove into the aisles of shelves to find instant soups. And then pills.

He couldn't have been in the store two minutes when, despite the music and the hum of the air conditioning, he heard a car braking just outside the store and caught out of the corner of his eye that a Ferrari had pulled up to the curb. A two-year-old model, but a Ferrari nonetheless. What kind of idiot would leave a car like that in the middle of the night in this neighborhood? Oh, right, Dean figured as soon as the door opened. He didn't even have to smell the guy who got out because everything about it was chanting loudly; Alpha! Alpha! Alpha!

He looked to be a little taller than Dean. And much older. Thirty-five maybe even forty. Dressed in a pair of tight dress slacks perched low on his narrow hips. His white shirt was carefully buttoned down to the last button, so that it covered every inch of his body, including his neck (which was quite a surprise, because these types liked to show off their scent glands like they were some kind of jewel, and everyone around them was certainly interested in pumping their musk into the air), but it was tight enough that there was no doubt that the Alpha had a nicely developed, if rather slim, figure. His hair was so dark brown that it was almost black in the bad light, and a massive gold watch glistened on his left hand even from a distance.

His stance, the way he held his shoulders, exuded utter sovereignty, as if the entire street was his territory as he strode confidently towards what else but the store. Because this was how Dean's fucking luck manifested, that this particular stereotypical knothead had to come when he was shopping here. And no, he wasn't the kind of asshole from the pub who was never sure if he had less of a brain or a knot, and who was actually afraid of a sharp knife and the police. No, this was an Alpha who probably really did get what he wanted, when he wanted it, at least as far as he could judge from the car and the outfit.

He mentally cursed and retreated behind a shelf before Alpha could enter and see him, while silently hoping the air conditioning was strong enough to keep his scent from reaching Alpha. He wasn't in the mood to deal with this shit. He was pretty tired and Sammy was waiting for him at the motel, sick, so all he wanted to do was throw a few soups in the cart, grab some meds, and then pay and get the hell out of there.

The bell on the door jangled as Alpha walked in and only moments later Dean inhaled sharply at the smell that assaulted his nose. Roasted cherries and bitter almonds, tinged with the musky scent that was common to all Alphas. It was heavy, intense, and it was everywhere, like the damn guy had never heard of blockers, neutralizing sprays, or a good old fashioned shower.

The beta behind the register said something that was probably a greeting in a language Dean didn't recognize. It definitely wasn't Spanish, more like something Eastern European. Russian? Maybe, but he wasn't sure. It wasn't exactly like he was good at languages.

Of course Knothead didn't bother to answer, that would be beneath him. Instead, he plunged between the shelves.

This was Dean's chance to pay up quickly and get out.

He tossed some soup into a basket and made his way to the checkout counter where he'd seen the cough lozenges earlier, but didn't get there. Halfway there, that strong and damn tempting smell hit him again. It carved a path through his nose, seeping sticky through his brain and ensuring that his mouth filled with saliva because... god... damn, this guy smelled like pie. Freshly baked, still warm cherry pie, just a bite into it. It was so damn tempting. He took another deep breath, mouth open involuntarily as if to taste the smell, and turned his head a little to follow the trail.

Shit. He just had to... he wanted to follow that scent. All his instincts were urging him to. Go, go, Omega, and find that good-smelling Alpha. He'll be perfect, strong, take good care of you and...

Fuck no!

Dean wasn't going to do anything like that. He wasn't some cute Omega from silly romance movies who fell into the arms of any good-smelling, muscular Alpha and immediately went right to wetting herself, ready to just show his neck and spread his legs. So why did he find himself slowly making his way down the aisle in pursuit of that spicy smell, as if being pulled by an invisible hand, instead of straight to the box office.

He knew damn well he shouldn't be doing this. It was the stupidest idea he'd ever had. Chasing after some complete stranger he'd met in the middle of the night in an empty store, but his instincts were stronger than that. Besides, what could possibly happen? He had hard fists, his knife, and fast feet.

No harm in taking a good look.

He stopped at a shelf and pretended to look at some detergents while leaning a little from around the corner. The alpha was bent over a rack of cookies, his ass bulging and god, it was a sensational ass. Perfectly shaped, literally inviting Dean to give it a good smack, which was damn weird, because when it came to guys, he was never interested. No... well, sometimes he did. A couple of times he'd met a nice-smelling Alpha who he'd cast more than one glance after, but he had no real interest. He just didn't want Alphas because they were hard to trust, and yet here he stood, staring at a complete stranger while breathing deeply of his cherry scent and staring at his arched ass and long legs.

He licked his lips, completely imagining the taste of pie that Alpha's scent brought to his tongue. He pecked it and it spread like a fitting warmth through his body and made its way straight to his cock. He twitched with interest. Damn job! He knew exactly what was going to happen right after his cock started to rise.

No more staring, he had to disappear before -

Alpha straightened abruptly and lifted his head in a familiar motion. He fanned himself. Quickly and unerringly, he identified where the scent was coming from, and before Dean could even back around the corner, he'd already turned to look directly at him. Alpha's eyes were the most beautiful shade of blue he'd ever seen, contrasting with his tousled dark curls.

They stared into each other's eyes for endless seconds before Alpha opened his mouth, along with sucking in air through his flared nostrils, and something golden glistened between his lips.

Dean didn't wait for anything more.

He quickly made his way back, turning into the next alleyway, convinced that there would be an exit to the ticket office, only there wasn't. He took a few more steps before realizing he couldn't get any further. At the end of the aisle, there were refrigerators on one side and a loading cart with some boxes on it blocked his retreat on the other side.

He turned around to go back, only the Alpha was already at the beginning of the alley, blocking Dean's escape route. Sure, the alley was big enough for two, so he could easily squeeze past the guy, but it wasn't big enough to avoid his hands. There was nothing to do but back away, pretend not to notice the Alpha, and hope the Alpha would just take what he'd come for from the shelf and leave again. Except with Dean's luck, and if he smelled as good to Alpha as Alpha smelled to him, he could look forward to at least an unwanted sniff, maybe a wandering hand, and a nosy invitation to the nearest hourly hotel.

He turned to the fridge so he could pretend to be interested in the yogurt, while his hand wandered to his pocket where he felt for his knife. He didn't stop watching Alpha, though. He could hear his footsteps, and could feel him heading slowly yet surely towards him. He didn't stop at any shelf or pretend to pick something up, he simply walked towards Dean, each confident movement sending the message that he had a clear destination. And that target was surely one, single thing; a small, lonely Omega ripe for his knot. What else, right?

Dean tensed, waiting carefully until the last moment for the Alpha to break the bubble of his personal space. Because he could still be wrong. Maybe the guy was just a long-time businessman who'd come in to buy something to eat. Normal, decent Alphas who were definitely out there, Dean just didn't run into them very often given his life.

But by the time the Alpha was close enough to be overwhelmed by the heavy, delicious smell of cherry pie, and even raised his hand, he was pretty clear on his intentions.

The knife was in his hand before he could even think of pulling it out. With one quick snap, he opened it, then pointed the tip close enough to the other man's crotch to properly back up his words.

"Touch me and I'll cut the knot off before you can blink," he said in a dangerously low voice as he turned to face the Alpha. Their eyes met again, but this time Dean wasn't going to look away or run under any circumstances. He had to give in to the Alpha now, there was no question about it, because he wasn't going to give in, no matter what his instincts told him. No matter how strongly they whispered in his ear that he should bow down. That he should bare his neck and let this perfect smelling Alpha take care of him. He'd played this game with his own little inner Omega long enough to know how to win, and it didn't change the fact that this Alpha smelled and looked better than any other he'd ever encountered in his life.

The alpha stopped mid-move, returning the look for a moment before slowly looking down between their bodies and at the knife Dean was threatening him with. Then, when he looked up again, he didn't have the mockery or anger in his eyes or on his face like most Alphas he'd ever threatened to take a piece of their family jewels. Nor did he have the fear in them that he'd seen a few times too. No, his eyes remained perfectly calm, like the surface of a blue bay when the wind wasn't blowing.

"I want milk," Alpha broke the stretching silence. He had an accent that bore little resemblance to the accent of the language the Beta salesman had spoken before. But it certainly wasn't an accent so thick that Dean couldn't understand it and become confused, because...

"What?"

"I need milk with my cookies," Alpha replied, holding up the packet of extra dark chocolate chip cookies he was holding. Dean looked at the cookies as if he was seeing something like this for the first time in his life. "And you're standing by the fridge."

He blinked in confusion before slowly turning his head to the fridge to find that yes, he was standing by the one that had bottles of milk in addition to the yogurt, and he also noticed that Alpha hadn't reached for him, but for the handle on the door.

Shit! What an embarrassment.

"Oh... sorry. I'll get out of the way," he said quickly and a little embarrassed, stepping aside so Alpha could open the fridge and pull out the bottle of vanilla milk.

"Thank you," the Alpha replied calmly, as if he hadn't threatened him with a half-castration earlier and still had the knife in his hand, and even smiled just enough for Dean to get a good look at the alpha-sized golden fang that loomed between perfectly whitened teeth.

He gave Dean one last flash of his sky-blue eyes, then headed for the checkout with his small purchase. He saw his... well, his ass off with a look that he quickly lowered when he realized what he was doing. Oh yeah... considering what he'd accused Alpha of a moment ago and the fact that he was threatening him, it was damn unfair to stare at his ass, no matter how pretty it was.

Anyway, Winchester. This had gone a little wrong, but at least he'd kept his ass safe again for once, literally and figuratively, he thought to himself as he headed for the cash register. He arrived just as Alpha was placing the cookies and milk on the counter. Just two items. That won't be too long. Just a few more moments and Alpha would be gone, along with his pie smell.

The bell jingled again as two more customers entered. Beta males by the smell, both in loose baggy clothes and smelling vaguely of nervousness or anticipation.

In truth, he didn't pay much attention to them, his gaze kept going from the cough traps to Alpha whether he wanted it to or not, which is why the first thing he noticed wasn't one of Bet's draws, but the dramatic pulling of the tap.

"Open the till!" The armed Beta yelled, pointing his gun at the clerk.

Dean's first thought, right after realizing this was a seriously shitty night, was to run. He peeled his gaze over to the door, only to find it barred by a second Beta male, who may have only had a knife, but had some seriously muscular arms. He definitely wouldn't be able to take him down before the first one noticed and came to his friend's aid.

"I said open the cash register!" Beta Man yelled again at the poor cashier, who let out a wave of raw fear and did as he was told with trembling hands. The poor guy was damn lucky he was the owner and could actually open the register without marking and closing the transaction. Normal clerks didn't have keys or, with modern cash registers, codes. Dean knew this all too well, having worked in a few places like this. Whether the muttonheads that had invaded the store knew that was hard to say, because if they didn't, they'd either have to take the entire cash register or make do with some stuff.

Unless...

"You," growled the gunman, turning his pistol on Alpha. "Is that car outside yours?"

So yeah, it was the car parked outside the store.

Alpha tilted his head slightly to the side.

"Yes."

"Fine. Throw the keys on the counter and add your watch, wallet, and all your jewelry too, motherfucker!" The thief ordered.

Dean had only just noticed, unconsciously, that in addition to the large gold watch that trumped everything, the Alpha was wearing a rather massive gold chain bracelet on his other arm, and a large, gold cross rested on his chest.

"No," Alpha replied without blinking, and only now did his scent turn slightly bitter. The cherries seemed to have receded into the background, replaced by almonds and a hint of some hard liquor. Something wild, but controlled, that made the Omega part of Dean start to growl contentedly, muttering about the safety, strength and protection that was at hand. He literally just needed to get behind that beautiful, strong Alpha who would surely protect him, only...not. Unless he got pissed. He wasn't going to put his life in the hands of some random Alpha, no matter what his lizard brain told him, and he certainly wasn't going to hide behind him.

"Can't you hear, asshole? Keys on the counter!" The thug tried to assert his dominance by shouting and puffing out his chest, which looked really ridiculous on the Beta. Especially since he reeked of growing nervousness and even a little fear. Yet he was the one with the big gun in his hand.

"I hear you, but I said 'no'," the Alpha replied simply, taking a step forward. "You won't take what's mine, but I'll give you a piece of advice; if you decide to point a gun at someone," he took another step so he was so close that the barrel of the robber's gun was almost touching his chest, "don't hesitate to pull the trigger," he finished, his hand shooting out like a snake.

He grabbed Beta's wrist, twisting his arm with a practiced grip so the gun fell out of his hand and pinned him to the counter. At that moment, the Alpha could have stopped. Simply shove Beta against his accomplice, kicking them both out of the store, since it was highly unlikely they could muster any resistance. That's exactly what Dean would have done if he were in his position. But the Alpha didn't stop. He grabbed the man firmly by his short hair and slammed his face into the counter. One. Twice. Three times, and finally a fourth. Each blow was accompanied by a dull thud, but also by the cracking sounds as Beta crushed the man's nose and the bones in his face, and the wet sniffle of blood splattering in all directions, right down to the pale blue shirt of the scared-to-death clerk.

It was only when the Alpha had worked the robber's face into a large bloody pancake that he let him slide freely off the counter and turned to the other Beta, who stood motionless in the doorway, reeking of surprise mixed with fear,

Dean could totally see the rusty wheels turning in his head as he considered the options he now had. There were two, either tuck his tail between his legs and run or try something stupid like grabbing the lying gun and lunging at the Alpha.

Beta moved forward.

Sure, he'd chosen the stupider option, but in doing so, he'd again cleared the way for Dean to escape. Not waiting for anything, he rushed for the door, only noticing out of the corner of his eye that Alpha, by then focused on the other robber, had lost his concentration and turned his head in Dean's direction. This caused Beta to gain the upper hand and knock Alpha onto the nearest shelf.

The merchandise flew sideways, and a whole barrage of chocolate bars of various kinds scattered under Dean's feet just as he grabbed the door handle. Another crash followed. Then a loud Alpha growl, which quickly turned into an alarming grunt.

Dean froze.

The door was already hFF open, all he had to do was run out and he'd be gone.

Don't fucking turn around! he tried to order himself, but his instincts forcibly turned his head to the scenario unfolding behind him.

It was hard to say how Beta managed to do it, but somehow he had managed to bring Alpha to his knees and was now standing behind him, choking him with a thick chain. The massive links were fingering the collar of Alpha's shirt and digging into his stubble-dusted chin. His eyes were red and his teeth bared, all sharp fangs and gold. He raged and fought, but even Alpha's strength couldn't keep up as the chain cut off his air supply. So yeah, it would take a little longer to strangle him than Beta or Omega, but with this equipment and the Beta man's size, he didn't have much hope of winning. Hell, he had no hope of surviving. And he didn't deserve that. Even if he was the most knotty head there could be, and even if he wasn't, Dean couldn't let him die. That's not how his dad raised him.

"Damn job!" He swore to himself as he threw the basket away and lunged forward.

The clatter of the falling basket made Beta turn his head just enough to land one nicely aimed right hook, which threw him off balance enough to loosen his grip around one end of the chain, and he stepped backwards. Dean noticed the Alpha drop to all fours with a loud grunt and coughed as he sucked in some long-needed air. He didn't get a chance to see much more as he had to dodge the fist that was aimed at his jaw. He ducked, catching Beta by the forearm and using his own momentum to send him against the counter. Though the guy had to take a nasty blow to the stomach from the sharp edge, he certainly didn't give up or run, instead swinging at Dean again.

This time, he simply ducked to avoid his punch and landed a blow of his own right to the man's liver. Beta grunted and instinctively wrapped his arms around his stomach. It was clear he wasn't much of a fighter. The first thing to do was dodge the blows and take cover. And if one took a blow, the last thing one had to do was curl up like a beaten dog. That was the only way to give his opponent a chance to land a few more blows and finally finish him off.

Dean moved with the intention of doing exactly that when Alpha reared up behind the thug's back and stomped his knee without the slightest mercy. The joint buckled at an unnatural angle with a sickening crack, and Beta fell to the ground with a groan.

Alpha bent down for Beta, pulling him to him, his back against his chest, his forearms around his massive scarf-covered neck, then took his chin in his palm and snapped his neck with one swift jerk. The crunch of cracking spine turned Beto into a limp puppet and ended his pitiful moans.

There was a tense silence in which Dean could hear his own heart beating rapidly in his chest. Every muscle in his body tensed, urging him to run, but at the same time he felt he couldn't move. He'd just seen this Alpha snap another man's neck with such ease and, more importantly, ruthlessness, as if he were nothing more than a common chicken. He should run. Hell, he had every right to scream like a girl as he ran, because this was only the second time he'd seen someone die. And the first time he'd seen it so close up. But he didn't move. He knew that the last thing he wanted was to trigger the angry Alpha's instinct to chase prey, and this Alpha had to be furious if he could kill so easily.

He forced himself to take a deep breath, hoping it would calm not only his beating heart, but more importantly his scent, before slowly, slowly straightening up. His way out was clear. Alpha was breathing quickly, still holding the dead man in his arms. Maybe if Dean moved carefully and quietly to the door, he'd make it to the street before the Alpha noticed him in his furious intoxication.

He took a small step to the side.

Alpha lifted his head sharply.

Shit!

Bright blue eyes focused on Dean and he froze. Shit squared and on fire. He expected to see fierce red and hear an angry snarl coming through bared fangs. The image of a raging Alpha with everything. Instead, he shared a mutual eye-to-eye with a guy who was perfectly calm, as if he hadn't killed one or maybe - he glanced quickly at the other Beta, whose face looked like meatloaf - two people barely a minute ago. That was almost scarier than Alpha rage, because that was normal, wasn't it? That was how Alphas reacted to threats. It was instinctive.

Only this Alpha didn't give in to his instincts when he killed. No, he was perfectly sane, so he must have been some kind of fucking psychopath. He'd be able to handle a raging Alpha, because he sure as hell couldn't be much worse than a drunken, belching Alpha trying to get to the gas station bathroom, but he didn't know what to do in the face of an ordinary, ruthless killer.

Alpha was the first to move. He dropped the limp body from his hands and straightened to his full height. And still he remained as still and otherwise motionless, just watching Dean with his piercing, blue gaze. It looked like he could stare at himself like that for hours, or at least until the clerk took his heart out of his pants and finally called the police. That gave Dean a choice between trying to run now or wait for the Alpha to make the first move, quite possibly ending up with his head smashed to a pulp or at best, and if he was very lucky, in police handcuffs.

There wasn't much to research.

He rushed for the door.

A grunt was the only small warning before a heavy weight landed on his back, knocking him to the floor into the scattered chocolate bars. In one heartbeat, he realized that even now he felt no real rage from Alpha. His scent was intoxicating again, cherry-almond, tart, and in fact so inviting and comforting that one small stray thought flashed through his brain that Alpha didn't actually want to kill him as an inconvenient witness. That he only wanted to hold him back to protect him, so he shouldn't fight back, and should instead give in to his instinct to comply.

The problem was that his omega instincts were just a pile of cow shit in the light of the real world, and Dean knew full well that he was only a few movements of Alpha's hands and probably his scent away from death, which was the only thing that had to stop Alpha from breaking his neck the moment he'd taken him down. He took advantage of his brief inattention and threw his head back.

He felt his temple meet Alpha's face and even heard a satisfying cry of pain before the tight grip of the hands holding his arms loosened enough for him to slip out of the hold. Even before he managed to get to his feet, he felt fingers brushing over him and also heard the ripping of fabric. He kicked back blindly, oddly enough even hitting something soft, and then was up in a flash and out the door and into the street.

Once outside, he picked a random direction and ran as fast as he could.