Dean felt like Dempsey's lack of shoes was the least of his problems now, "I'll get you new ones." He didn't have the patience to try and find anything when clearly Dempsey wasn't even coherent enough to coordinate movements. "Well past midnight." Dean hadn't even really realized how late he'd been working until the owl had knocked on the window.

With no more forward progress, Dean leaned down and swung Dempsey up over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. He'd never had a problem lifting Dempsey before this, in a variety of ways, but the useless weight of the other man's limbs didn't help. It was a good thing there weren't many other people around and that they were as out of it as Dempsey was, by all appearances. Dean didn't want to be attached to this sort of place, he was careful about where and when he decided to indulge in his own vices, and this wasn't it.

Making his way back to the floo, Dean realized it was going to be a really tight squeeze for the two of them and so changed his plan. He set Dempsey back down on his feet, holding him tightly to keep him upright and apparated out instead into his own sitting room. "Alright?" Apparating was disorienting normally, but Dean had no idea what it would feel like under the influence.