"So, you were just footloose and fancy-free, huh?" Dean's drawl was slurred, unmistakably drunken. "I'm in freaking Purgatory and you're shacked up with some woman."
Sam flushed, but said nothing.
Draining the last of his beer, Dean slammed the bottle down onto the table. "I'm outta here." A little unsteady, he stomped to the door, car keys in hand.
Sam caught him, slid between his brother and the door. "You can't drive like this."
"What do you care?" Dean snorted. "Move."
Sam was pale but determined. He shook his head.
Dean's face hardened. "You better move, Sammy. Right fucking now."