This fic was inspired by a photo-shopped picture of J2M on Tumblr. It looked like it would make a great sitcom and then this plot happened. There was an outcry for fic so here it is! The original post can be found here: post/41779652855/introducing-the-new-cw-comedy-lineup-at-8-pm-get

The lock clicked as Sam shut the door.

He look around the living room, still somewhat dazed, and it took him a moment to realize that the reason he was feeling a little lost was that he wasn't used to seeing the room with the afternoon sun streaming in through the window.

Sam sighed and tossed his keys on the coffee table, dropping his briefcase and shrugging out of his suit jacket. The jacket ended up on the back of the sofa as he made his way to his room. He could hear muffled Metallica coming from Dean's room, and he paused outside the door for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell he was going to say to his brother.

"Screw it," he finally muttered, and opened the door.

Dean was lying face down on his bed, arms sprawled to either side of him. The floor was strewn with dirty laundry and empty beer bottles, and "Battery" was playing loud enough to make Sam wince. Sometimes he couldn't understand how Dean could still hear anything at all.

"Moved passed pathetic and depressed to angry now?" he yelled over the music.

Dean gave him the finger, not bothering to look up.

Sam shook his head, smiling. Then he took a deep breath and-

"Well, just thought you should know, I got fired."

That got Dean's attention. He looked up at his brother, eyes wide.

Sam just shrugged. "Yup." He turned around and headed to his room.

He heard a clamor and something crash, followed by a loud, "Fuck!" and then the music turned off and the apartment was blissfully silent for a moment.

But just for a moment.

"What the fuck happened?"

Sam sighed and turned around. Dean stood in his doorway with a three day beard and a t-shirt that had been worn at least as long as the facial hair.

"Dude, you look like shit. When's the last time you showered?"

Dean frowned. "None of your fucking business and don't try to change to subject. What the hell, man? You thought they were gonna promote you to Associate!"

"Yeah, well, I guess when a law firm is going belly-up, they want to lose all the dead weight before they jump ship."

Dean stepped into the room and sat down on the edge of Sam's bed. "Wait, what? The firm is going out of business?"

Sam rubbed his eyes. "Yeah. Just found out today. Apparently, Crowley, one of the senior partners, has been embezzling company money for months. He disappeared yesterday. Probably on a beach in Tahiti by now. The firm's filing for bankruptcy."

"Jesus."

"Yeah."

Dean scratched his chin a couple of times before running his hand through his hair. "Wow, Sammy, I- I'm sorry. I don't know what to say…"

Sam huffed, shrugging. "Yeah, you and me both, man."

"So, what now? You gonna find another job?"

Sam had been asking himself that same question since he'd left the office. Did he want to start over? Because that's what would have to happen. He'd been working up to Associate for the past 4 years at his office. And coming from a firm that went bankrupt would land him at square one somewhere else. Especially since they fired him first.

"Hell if I know," he finally said. "I'm going to have to think about it." He sat heavily down on the bed next to Dean and flopped backwards, staring at the ceiling.

Dean was lying there with him a second later, arms folded under his head.

"Ok. Well, we'll figure it out. We always do."

Sam smiled for what felt like the first time that day. It was a testament to how well his brother had taken care of him that Sam believed him when he said it. Dean always figured something out, even if it took the shit out of him.

"Right."

They were quiet for a minute and then Dean said, "Wanna go get shit-faced?"

Sam considered the option for a second.

"Only if you shower first," he said wrinkling his nose.

A pillow slammed into his face a moment later.

"Bitch."

Sam laughed. "Jerk."

"Oh my God!, Is that? No! It can't be! Is that Dean Winchester?!"

Dean rolled his eyes as he walked up to the bar.

"Shut up, Jo."

"I'm sorry Dean, you'll have to speak up! It's been so long since you joined us here in the world of the living, my hearing's started to go…"

Dean snorted, stepping behind the bar to give Jo a hug. "Anyone ever tell you, you tend to exaggerate things?" he asked.

"Eh, just a little bit," Jo said, hugging Dean tightly.

Dean kissed the top of her head and stepped back, ruffling her hair. Jo scowled at him as he leaned down to open one of the fridges under the counter, pulling out two beers. He handed one to Sammy across the counter and opened the other one, taking a long pull from the bottle and looking around.

Jo had managed the place just fine, while he'd been off, it looked like. Nothing was broken, the bar was stocked, the customers seemed happy. He hadn't really been worried, but truth was, he'd never taken off more than a day before, and "The Crossroads" was pretty much his second baby, the first being his car.

Of course, at first he'd called her every day to make sure Jo kept up on the orders and paychecks, made sure she was organizing the employee schedule right. But then Jo finally told him to fuck off and let her do her job. So he did.

"Place looks good," he said, nodding in approval.

"Of course it looks good," Jo replied. "I'm amazing and I know what I'm doing. My mother taught me just as well as she taught you, Dean."

Dean held his hands up in surrender, still holding his beer. "Ok! Alright, I get it. You're awesome, you're amazing, you're the best bartender in the city, and I'm an overbearing, obsessive son of a bitch."

"Damn right you are," Jo said, smirking. Sam laughed from across the bar and Jo passed him a bowl of pretzels.

"So," she said, munching on a couple, "Sam, you gonna tell me what finally got your brother to drag his lame, self-pitying ass out of bed?"

Dean's chest constricted for a moment, but he took a deep breath and another drink. He hadn't told Jo why he was taking time off, but she wasn't an idiot. He figured she probably knew. And she was smart enough not to tell anyone about it too. Dean didn't think he'd ever live it down if anyone found out the indestructible Dean Winchester was moping pathetically over a dead relationship.

That didn't mean Jo was above poking a little fun at him herself.

Sam cleared his throat, looking uncomfortable. "I, uh, lost my job today."

"Oh my God, what happened?"

Dean cut in. They were here to drink and laugh and be stupid for the night, and they were going to start it off right. "Well, Sam kept hitting his head on the doorways, and he finally cracked the ceiling in the meeting room the last time he stood up, so they had to get rid of him. Moose boy here was scaring off all the clients."

Jo shook her head, smiling. "All right, Winchester, have it your way." She nodded at Sam. "Drinks are on the house," she said, winking.

Dean scowled. "Drinks are always on house, it's my friggin' bar!"

Jo just laughed and moved off to take care of customers.

Dean turned around to find Sam looking at him gratefully. "Thanks man," he said. "I'm not really in the mood to talk about it."

Dean nodded. He bent down to pull out another two beers, but when he came back up, Sam was watching him with that face. That 'We're about to have a meaningful conversation' face.

Dean froze. "What?"

Sam tilted his head, frowning. "Well, I mean, are you ok?" he asked. "Jo's right. You haven't been to the bar in two weeks and you haven't left the apartment for days, and I know I'm Sad Sally tonight and all, but-" Dean cut him off.

"Dude, I'm fine. You and Jo are making this out to be something way bigger than it is. It's over, it's all good. I'm gonna be coming back to work tomorrow, and everything. I just needed some time to myself." Sam didn't look convinced. " For Christ's sake, I haven't taken a vacation in ever. Can't I take a break without the two of you going all Dr. Phil on me? Jeez, you're such a girl."

Sam threw a pretzel at him. "Okay, fine!" he said, "But for the record, I'm not the one who sleeps with guys," he continued, grinning.

Dean rolled his eyes, but he knew the topic was done with.

They spent the evening drinking and laughing and just letting the rest of the world slip away. At some point, when Dean nearly took out someone's eye, Jo took confiscated the darts .Sam thought that was hilarious and snorted beer up his nose.

It had been so long since they'd spent time, just the two of them. Sam had always been busy with one case or another, and Dean had the bar and then Nick…

Jo got them into a cab sometime around 2 am and sent them off home amidst warnings to take two Advil each before they fell asleep and to drink lots of water. Dean slurred at her that he knew how to handle himself after a night of drinking and then tripped on the curb.

They stumbled up the stairs to the apartment, giggling like little boys and shushing each other not to wake the neighbors, and when they finally got in, they both collapsed on the sofa.

Dean toed his boots off and propped his feet up on the coffee table, while Sam struggled to get his coat off. He had a confusing couple of minutes where he couldn't find the buttons before he realized it was a zipper amidst renewed waves of laughter from Dean, but at last they were both settled.

It was quiet for a while, and Sam could hear Dean's breathing begin to slow, but something had been nagging at him since earlier that evening and his brain was too fuzzy to tell him to shut up.

"Dean," he said, his voice soft in the darkness.

"Huh?"

Sam thought back over the last few months, watching his brother change, and not for the better. Tonight had been a glimpse of the old Dean he'd known, and he'd missed it.

"I hated Nick," he said. "Like, really hated him. And I hated watching what you were like with him. What you were like every time he was being his douchey self, and he was an idiot and just– like, he was so short, and I just-"

A snore interrupted him. "Dean?" he said, lifting his head from the back of the couch. It took a tremendous amount of effort and made him dizzy. Dean was fast asleep, snoring not-so-gently next to him. Sam knew there had been more he wanted to say, but he was just so tired. He curled up on his side of the sofa and fell asleep.

Though, the last thought he had before he passed out was that he wished he could find someone for his brother. He wished he could give something back to the person who had always made sure he had it all.

When he woke up four hours later with Dean's feet in his face , roiling nausea and a headache made worse by the fact that he couldn't turn his head to the left, he didn't remember the conversation at all. But the idea stuck with him for days, even if he didn't realize the source.

And that was how he ultimately decided what he wanted to do.