Sam fell through the door and onto the floor, reeking of cigarettes and booze.

"What the fuck."

"Dean!" Sam grinned drunkenly up at him from the floor.

"What the fuck!"

Sam hiccupped. "You already said that!"

Dean hauled him over to the bed and tossed him onto it. "You're fifteen, Sam! Who the hell got you drunk?"

"Dad did!"

"Like hell!"

"I like vodka," Sam crooned, turning onto his stomach.

Dean froze. "Vodka?" He ran to the kitchen and opened the freezer. "Sam, Dad's gonna kill you!"

"Sounds grim." Sam yawned and snuggled into his pillow. "Better get rested up."