You can feel the bass in your bones as you retrieve your drink from the bar. Your body aches from being tossed around in some undescript haunted house, having just finished one of your more frustrating hunts in a while.

You make your way to the dance floor, hips swaying as you start to relax, moving between bodies.

Might as well treat yourself for once.

You feel the rythm of the music in your feet, the dim lighting bouncing off people. You move, swaying with people as you their hands wander, yet not unpleasently.

As you're about to leave for somewhere more private with your current dance partner, you feel a large hand wrap firmly around your arm, twisting you around so you bump into, and stay pressed against a firm body.

Just as you're about to yell the usual 'back off's, and maybe dump the rest of your drink down his shirt, you recognize the crooked, blue tie and beige trench coat. You flit your eyes up, meeting the familiar blue ones, the light from the club swirling within them as he looks at you stearnly.

"Sam and Dean need your help."

Is all the warning you get before you're suddenly in a motel room across the country, head swimming as you grip his arm for support, taking a shaky breath. Cas tilts his head at you, his brows furrowing slightly.

"Breathe."