Dean looked around the room, if it could even be called that anymore. He was led on the floor, propped up on his elbows. Half the bed sheets had been torn off the bed and at some point the pillows had lost a lot of their feathers. He followed his line of sight up past a lamp on the floor, smashed, to a crack that ran almost obscenely across the room. The overhead bulb had blown. He was actually surprised the windows were still in one piece and the door was still on its hinges.
The room was a mess, a bomb site, a kerfuffle and Dean fell onto his back, laughing.
“Cas...you know you’re paying the security deposit, right?”