Dean's horror at the sight of you drunkenly protesting about angel rights at a bar was palpable. You were stood on top of the table, all of the other drunk patrons at your feet as if you were speaking gospel. You're an angel, sure, but it was clear you were absolutely off your rocker, literally one glance at you and your intoxication was so damn obvious.

Yeah, he's horrified. You're an angel, his angel though he'd never admit it, so seeing you in this vulnerable state scared the shit out of him.

"Alright, you," he'd hurried his way over to you, pushing past people to get over to you. "Enough alcohol for you," he wraps his arms around your waist, muttering quietly into your ear as he throws you up over his shoulder. The shit he had to do for you, honestly.

His hand settles on your lower back, rubbing gently as he pushes through the crowd of people, taking you with him with a quiet sigh. Avoiding the stares of other people, he looks around for a moment. "How did you even—"

His eyes fall to Sam at the bar with a girl and he doesn't even question it. "Sam," he sighs, under his breath, shrugging with a shake of his head.

He had to do everything around here. Plus, he didn't even know you angels could get drunk in the first place. It.. it definitely took a lot of alcohol judging by the empty bottles and glances across the bar where you'd been.