Sam drank a couple of obligatory beers with Dean after they completed that last job. He wasn't against letting off steam but, this had been a very long day at the end of a physically abusive case. Sam had purposely picked this place because it was within walking distance of their motel. He wouldn't be responsible for putting tired and drunk behind the wheel.

He asked Dean to leave with him but, big brother was already casting out the line and the bait seemed to be working. Sam grabbed his jacket and headed out. Sensing Dean incapable of more than flirting, tonight, Sam sent him a text when he got to their room. He was being proactive and hopefully preventing an unnecessary call in the middle of the night. The text read, 'turn left'.

Sam undressed and climbed under the covers. Unfortunately, the alcohol had tilted his internal regulators from tired to overtired and unable to sleep. He tried a hot shower and felt more relaxed. He crawled back into bed and closed his eyes, hugging his pillow.

Sam felt himself drifting off when, suddenly, he heard "Here's Johnny".

Dean was home. Sam pulled the covers over his head, deciding that ignoring Dean would make him stop. It almost worked.

Dean somehow realized that he might be disturbing Sam. He closed the door more quietly than was expected. Sam relaxed. Dean attempted to remove his jacket and the maneuver caused him to lose his balance.

At this point, he bumped into the table, knocking down a chair and overcompensating, he tripped over a duffle bag and fell in a heap onto the floor dragging a lamp down with him. All the while, amid half whispered expletives, he kept telling himself, 'shush' and 'Sammy's sleeping'.

Sammy was not sleeping. Sammy was getting pissed.

He said, "Dean, shut up!"

Dean's response was, "Shush."

Sam turned away and pulled the covers over his head.

Dean successfully made his way to his bed. Sam wondered if, perhaps, this was the real reason his brother always slept closest to the door. He sat on the edge, barely, and began to remove his boots. He quickly became off-balanced and slid to the floor. This time, he lost hold of his boot and it flew across the room, landing with a thud against the wall.

Sam flung off the covers and sat up. He asked his brother, "How do you get so drunk?"

As he awkwardly got to his feet, and putting on his best Blues Brothers persona, he answered, "One scotch, one bourbon and one beer."

Sam hung his head so Dean wouldn't see his smile. He knew that drunk Dean came in two varieties. The choices were self-destructive and combative or funny. And when drunk Dean was funny, he was fun.

Suddenly and very seriously, Dean said, "Sam, what happened to me? Why am I limping?"

Unable to hide his smile any longer, and with a little exasperation, Sam answered. "Dean...you're only wearing one boot."

Sam decided to forgo the sleep he wasn't getting, anyway and play with drunk Dean.