He waited until Penny had handed him the bottle before telling her he'd only have the one, and he didn't like the scowl that swept over her face. He wondered if she wanted to get him drunk for some reason. That would be fine - he just needed to be careful and use it for his own advantage.

He had a mission: to find out as much as he could about just how strong Veronica's grip was on him. While Penny had got the beers, he'd pressed play on the recording app, locking his screen and sliding it back into his pocket. So while she asked him about his audition, he responded with giggly words after only a few small sips, taken big to make it look like he was drinking fast. Sometimes being a renowned lightweight had its uses.

"I'm sorry she made you spy for her," he said when an awkward silence descended.

"I never would have if she hadn't forced me. You know that. I'm on your side, Cas." She was losing her knack, he thought. Now, the alarms were ringing and the red flags flying.

"You could still help me get away," he suggested, just to gauge her response.

"What? You can't still be thinking of that. Surely you can see that you have to stay with her?"

"Why?" He stayed calm with difficulty, focusing on the role instead, tilting his head like he was struggling to focus on her. "I'm worth more than she lets me have."

"There you go. Kitty with claws. But you have nothing without her, Cas. You have to see that she made you. You can't leave her, she wouldn't let you."

Though he'd heard words like that many times, especially lately, Penny's tone had something darker in it. Something cold and final.

"I could just leave. Stop being in movies. There's plenty of TV parts."

"She wouldn't let you," she repeated. "All of that. It's hers. She told you that."

She didn't give him chance to reply, disappearing to the kitchen, and he took the chance to empty his bottle into the depressed rubber plant behind the couch. When she returned several minutes later, he was tapping the brown glass against his fingertips, and hid his reluctance when he accepted the replacement from her, taking another tiny sip disguised as a gulp. The beer was bitter, and he coughed, leaning away as Penny came closer.

"How would you pay for your lifestyle without her?" she asked with a sympathetic twist to her mouth. "You haven't got anything else to fall back on."

"What do you mean?" He felt flushed and his mouth dry. He took another sip to clear it, but that tasted worse. "She takes a high percentage but I get more than a million for every movie. I have plenty until I get something else."

"Yeah, you seen it?" There was an aggressive lilt to the way she asked and the heat gave way to ice-cold, even as her face fell and her mouth flapped, trying to pull the words back.

"What do you mean? Veronica got me an accountant to look after my investments."

He wracked his brains to remember when he'd last had to sign something, even as he asked the question. It had been tax time, not since. But he'd worked on two movies since then. There must have been investments. Penny's words from the other day rang in his mind. No wonder she'd been disgusted that he had no idea what was going on with his career.

"I don't mean anything, forget it." But Penny was panicked, the previous façade dropped - because she'd said too much. He knew it as well as if she admitted it. So that angry snark about his money... he didn't have money to rely on, did he? Veronica had it, somehow, because he was too disinterested in the minutiae of his own life.

She went to the kitchen again, and again the plant received the benefit of almost a full beer bottle.

He took a new bottle from her when she returned - another bitter sip. Beer was always bitter but there was something more.

"I'll sue her," he announced, slurring his words, realizing with horror that it wasn't fully faked this time. "She won't get away with that."

"I'm sure there's nothing in it. You're imagining things. What would you do, anyway? You can't be on your own. You'd have no one if you left her."

He realized she was tapping away at her phone, sending a message. She was barely trying now, just spouting rote nonsense to try and peel away at his defences, without really worrying about being successful.

"Ben left you, you have no friends. What would you even do?"

He stood, legs feeling not entirely his own.

"What do you know about Ben?"

"I knew nothing until he introduced himself. You were always good at keeping a secret. But after that, it was easy to remind him he'd do you no good hanging around. He owes you more than being a millstone around your neck. He understood when I explained it to him."

She stood too, and Cas backed away further.

"You're the reason he hasn't contacted me?"

"You'll thank me soon enough."

Penny's phone rang before she could say more. He went to the stairs, stumbling a little as he climbed them. He wanted to get out. He just needed to grab a bag. He'd go to Ben's. He could explain, maybe it wouldn't be too late. It felt too much, though; his heart beating hard, sweat forming on his brow even as he shivered with cold. He could hear Penny's angry voice, pausing briefly to let the other person speak, though he couldn't focus to make out the words, even though he moved his sluggish body faster when he heard her on the stairs.

"How the fuck are you still awake? That was two drinks full of-,"

Cas tried to slam his bedroom door against her but she pushed him through, following close until he was on the bed and she straddled him. He should be able to fight her but his arms felt like jelly.

She held up a hand, palm loaded with white pills, all earlier pretence of friendliness gone.

"Veronica is very unhappy with you," she said, pushing the pills against his mouth. "Just swallow them. You can't win, and these will make sure. You know," she said, almost conversationally as she pinched his nose shut, "I wouldn't be surprised if she decided you're more hassle than you're worth. You're insured, you know? And you wouldn't be the first A-lister with a secret drug problem or suicidal tendencies."

Thankfully, she let go of him when he'd taken the pills, stepping back and watching him. Seeing her dead eyes, he could barely believe he ever fell for her fake friend bullshit. She'd discarded the mask. He swallowed noisily, and she laughed as she left the room.

He knew she thought whatever was in his system would knock him out, so he moved as quietly as he could to the bathroom, even shakier - from the fight and from the one or two pills he accidentally swallowed during it. He spat the rest, hidden in his cheek, into the sink, washing them away. Whatever was in them was hitting hard, and he thanked God he didn't swallow most, because his vision went dark and spotty, and his limbs even weaker.

He managed to get his phone out, but he could barely see the screen to click out of the recording app and into his contacts, squinting to find a name. He wanted Ben. Wanted the chance to apologise and to make everything right so they could have it again. Be them again.

He went into his contacts from memory, but he couldn't see names - everything was a blur. Ben was near the top, he knew that, but wasn't sure if he was pressing the right one. He had to risk it - he rang hoping to hear Ben's voice, but he couldn't get anything except for a roar of blood in his ears. Even his own voice was a mystery - he could feel himself slurring but had no idea if he was getting real words across.

He slammed the phone onto the bed in frustration. But he couldn't let that get to him and turned the screen again, thinking to try for a message instead. He was pretty sure Kirsten was his most recent message and tried to tap something coherent out from guesses and autocorrect.

He had no idea if it was working, but he'd try again, and again, until he got something. He had the sudden realization that he needed to call 911. They could help. But the dizziness was worse, and he felt nauseous. He fumbled his phone, hearing it clatter on the floor. He'd get it, try again. In a minute. Soon.