disclaimer: Don't own 'em, just borrowing them for a minute from their real owners

Chapter 1

Dean surveyed the mess of people around him. It was ridiculously loud. The music was that techno crap. He briefly considered smashing a speaker in just on principle – this whole place was ruining what could have been a perfectly good drunken night. Not that he was going to get drunk. Not anymore.

When he and Sam had rolled into town early that morning he had every intention of tracking down the nearest bar and slammin' back a few shots of whiskey as soon as they were done working, but then…

Dean sighed and shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts from his pounding skull. Maybe he would smash a speaker or two... No. Had to focus on finding sasquatch.

He knew Sam was in here somewhere. After the fight Sam had left the motel room, those stupid puppy-dog eyes so full of defeat Dean almost gave in. He was too angry though. He was too sick and tired of all the shit Sam had been pulling lately.

Ruby. Demon blood. Saying he was a better hunter than Dean. Saying that Dean was holding him back.

He swallowed the resentment and anger as it threatened to make him walk back out the bar door. They had done this enough. Dean had done this enough.

In truth he knew that Sam was punishing himself way more than he should be already. Dean didn't need to tell him how disappointed he was, or that he didn't trust him, or that… Ugh, the thought made Dean cringe with regret. How could he say that to Sam?

It means you're a monster
Really?! Sam. A monster?!

Every time he thought about it he wanted to punch himself in the face. Because he knew that not only was it one of the worst things he could have said to Sam, and that Sam didn't deserve it and it wasn't true, but on top of all that he knew that Sam really and truly worried about being a monster.

Sam. Puppy-dog eyed, feels bad about killing vampires that are about to rip your throat out, let's try talking first Sam. Monster just wasn't ever going to be in the description.

But Dean had gone and put it there. And no matter how much he wanted to he could never take it back, and now he could see it in Sam's face every time they fought. Sam gave up too easily now. Sure, they'd yell at each other. Sam, wasn't shy about his opinions. Now though, whenever Sam did something wrong, whenever Dean was really angry with him, he could just see the wheels turning in Sam's head.

Monster.

"Fuck..." Dean sighed, catching sight of Sam at the bar. The gigantic kid's back was to him, but he could see the bottle of Jack sitting half-empty on the bar top. Sam had picked up some of Dean's bad habits while Dean was down under. Since Dean had gotten back Sam didn't drink much, but every now and then Dean would come back from his own bar trip and Sam would be sleeping – more like passed out – with a bottle of some dark- or honey-colored liquor on the nightstand.

In general, he didn't ever really see Sam drunk. This should be interesting.

He moved quickly through the crowd of dancing people, arriving next to Sam a little bit more annoyed after being bumped and sandwiched by the raving idiots in this bar.

"Sam-" he clapped a hand on Sam's shoulder. Sam jerked with surprise, glancing up at him.

"Dean?" Sam's voice was thick with alcohol and even getting that one simple word out sounded like it took effort.

"Yeah, c'mon Sam let's go" Dean pulled lightly on Sam's shoulder.

"Why?" Sam huffed, "I'm doin' fine righ' here, thanks."

Dean raised his eyebrows, the big brother instinct kicking in as reaction to Sam's backtalk, "Sure ya are, but I say time to go, so let's go."

Sam shrugged Dean's hand off him, "I'm fine." He stared straight ahead, avoiding Dean's eyes, as he took a quick gulp from the bottle of Jack. Sam's voice was slurring, but it wasn't in the funny, happy-drunk Sam way that Dean was used to. Sam's voice was dark, hardened.

"Sam." Dean leaned over onto the bar so that he could see Sam's eyes, "Looks like you've had a lot, you're gonna be sick tomorrow and we need to get moving, so come on…" he gestured towards the exit.

"You keep the bottles all the time," Sam scoffed humorlessly.

"Yeah, well," Dean shrugged, "That's me. I've had practice."

Sam smiled wryly, raising his eyebrows in knowing, "I've been practicing," he said bluntly, taking another swig.

Dean took a breath, looking down. Some part of him – the part that wanted to drag Sam outta there by his collar – hated knowing how bitter Sam had become. How much innocence his little brother had lost, "Yeah, I know, Sam..." Dean's voice rang with regret.

Sam glanced up at that, but quickly resumed his staring contest with the bottles on the bar shelves across from them, "Just leave, Dean. Really. I'm fine. I'll be back in a while."

Okay, enough. Little brothers listen to their big brothers, and Sam was going to listen to him right now, "Sam," Dean jerked the collar of Sam's jacket, placing himself as much in front of Sam's face as possible. Sam met his eyes with some resentment, but he didn't try to push Dean away, "I'm serious. We are leaving. Now. Please." He added the last word for good measure. He didn't want to fight again, he just wanted to get back to the motel.

"You're drunk," he went on, "The motel is across town. I'm not letting you walk there wasted, and I'm not staying in this freakin' Barbie-girl, Cascada-loving bar."

Sam studied him for a minute, "How do you know who Cast…ca..ada is?" He asked finally.

Dean was caught by surprise, "Wh- I don't-" he fumbled over his words, "I just- Its… Look sometimes shitty music is catchy alright?!" he growled. Sam cracked a small smile. A real one for once, "Now can we please go?"

"Whatever…" Sam mumbled, sliding off the bar stool.

"Easy..." Dean grabbed one of Sam arms and shifted it over his shoulders. Good thing too since Sam almost immediately leaned too far to one side, forcing Dean to fight to keep them both upright, "Jeez, dude. Think you could lay off the workout routine for a while?"

Sam didn't reply. His movements were wobbly the whole way out of the bar. Dean was immeasurably grateful when he was able to lean Sam against the impala while he unlocked the doors.

Once the doors were unlocked he walked briskly back over to Sam to help him slide in the passenger seat.

"Dude, I can do it m'self!" Sam protested, while simultaneously grabbing for the door handle, missing it by a mile, and sending himself reeling forward towards the pavement.

"Obviously." Dean snorted, catching the oversized child under the arms and carefully helping him into the car.

tbc

So I think there's gonna be a little follow-up chapter… probably gets a little darker. What do we think?