Chapter Two

Dean and Sam headed to a local bar the next day, deciding to take the day off to get used to being brothers again. They sat down at a table, ordered two beers, and waited for the waitress.

"So, what have you been up to the past week?" asked Dean.

"Well, I got a job at a bar," said Sam. "Busboy."

"Really?" asked Dean.

"Yeah."

"Sounds exciting."

Sam didn't laugh like Dean expected. He just grew quiet. "Too exciting."

Dean frowned. "What do you mean?"

"A couple days ago, a hunt sprang up near my town," Sam explained. "So I called Bobby so he could call other hunters. Reggie, Steve and Tim showed up." Dean nodded, showing he remembered the hunters. "That night, Tim and Reggie came back. Steve had been killed by demons. The demons told Tim about the whole…demon blood and Lucifer's cage and everything."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Let me guess: they didn't take the news well."

Sam shook his head. "Not well at all." He took a breath. "He wanted me to take care of the demons."

"Did he know you were clean now?"

"Oh, he knew. He brought a vial of demon blood. I tried to fight 'em off, but they overpowered me, and…" He looked down at the table. "They shoved it down my throat."

Dean's eyes widened. "You mean, you're…"

"No," said Sam. "I spit it out."

"What'd you do with them?"

"Scared 'em off," said Sam.

"You didn't take care of them?" said Dean.

Sam looked up at him. "Dean, they're human. I'm not gonna kill them. The only person they had even hurt was me."

"Exactly," said Dean, getting to his feet, probably to track them down and beat them.

Sam grabbed Dean's arm. "Dean, leave it. We're not gonna go hunt them down. It's fine."

Dean ran a hand across his face before taking his seat again. "Fine. But the next time I see them, I'm giving them a piece of my mind."

"Fair enough," said Sam.

The waitress brought their beers, set them on the table, and left.

"Doesn't mean I have to be happy about it," said Dean.

"You're not alone," said Sam.

They took a drink of their beers.

"So…" said Dean. "You and me…archangel puppets."

Sam huffed out a chuckle. "Yeah."

"Who would've thought," muttered Dean. He looked at Sam. "Why does everything seem to happen to us?"

Sam laughed. "Who knows. Maybe the supernatural world really does revolve around us."

"You think?" muttered Dean, taking another swig.

"Where are we headed after this?" asked Sam.

Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Well, aren't you eager to get back into the game."

"Lucifer's not gonna kill himself, Dean."

"Hey, there's an idea. We'll Facebook him, telling him what a miserable bastard he is. Maybe he'll jump off a cloud." Sam laughed. "Sure would save us the trouble."

"I don't know, man. I don't think that'll work. Angels don't really keep up with modern technology."

"Fine, we'll get Cas to start spreading mean rumors. Maybe he'll hang himself with his own halo."

Sam laughed. "Well, good luck with that."

Dean took another drink, settling down. "I don't know what our next move is. I don't know where the Colt is, I don't know where the devil is, hell, I don't even know if the Colt will actually work. But what I do know is that I was wrong. We do need each other. We watch each other's backs, we take care of each other. Going our separate ways won't fix anything. It'll just make it worse. If we're gonna do this, we do it together."

Sam nodded, looking down at his beer. He looked back up at Dean with a goofy smile on his face. "That was beautiful, Dean."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Shut up."

Sam laughed as Dean took a drink of his beer. "So, what do you want to do?"

Dean frowned. "Why this sudden interest in what I want to do? Don't you want any input?"

Sam shrugged. "No, it's…"

Sam couldn't really explain why he was suddenly asking Dean to take the lead. Maybe he did miss Dean being the big brother…sometimes. Most of the time, though, it was annoying as hell. Truth of the matter was that Sam still didn't trust himself. He could no longer sit out of the fight now that he'd been yanked back in, but he still didn't trust himself to call the shots. For the moment, he was glad to take a back seat on everything…for the moment.

"Just getting back into a swing of things," said Sam.

Dean nodded. "Well…maybe just hang out for a day or so…just enough to 'get back into the swing of things.' We'll take it from there in a few days." He looked down to see they had emptied their beers. "I'll get us another round."

Dean got to his feet and headed for the bar. He approached the counter, catching the bartender's attention.

"Two beers, please," said Dean.

The bartender nodded, finishing up her previous order.

"Rough day?" asked a man at the bar next to him.

Dean looked over to see a middle-aged man in rugged clothes. "Sort of."

The man nodded. "I expected. The name's Mark."

Dean frowned. "Dean." He turned back towards the bar to wait for his beers, hoping the man left him alone.

"Well, Dean, here's to drinking the pain away," said the man, raising his own drink.

"Actually, me and my brother are hanging out," said Dean.

The man raised his eyebrows, looking interested. "Oh, really? Well, where is he?"

"Look, pal, I don't know you, so, uh…" began Dean as the bartender headed in his direction.

"Sorry," said the man. "Sometimes I overstep my boundaries. Didn't mean to offend you."

"Okay, then," said Dean as the bartender put the beer bottles on the counter. "Nice talk." He turned to grab the beers.

"It was," said the man.

Dean looked in confusion at the man, leaning on the counter. The man was looking at him in a way that made him very uncomfortable. Dean took a drink from one of the beers. The man looked over Dean's shoulder.

"Is that your brother?" asked the man.

Dean looked over at Sam back at the table. Sam was shifting a napkin in between his hands, waiting for Dean. He heard the man shift in his seat and looked back to see him settling into his chair. "Uh…yeah."

"He looks like a nice young man," said the man.

"Yeah…" said Dean, reached for the beers. "He is…I guess."

The man smiled at Dean. "You take care of him, don't you?"

Dean frowned again. This guy is really starting to creep me out. "Yeah…"

The man nodded, still smiling. "How noble of you…taking care of your brother. You truly are a wonderful person."

Dean began edging away from the guy. "Okay…well…I gotta go now, but…it was nice talking to you…sort of…"

The man looked Dean up and down. "You know, you really are a beautiful being."

"Coming, Sam!" Dean called as he hurried away from the guy.

Sam turned as Dean approached. "What?"

Dean placed the beers on the table and dropped into his chair, shoving the one he hadn't drank out of across to Sam. "Oh, my God. This guy at the bar...would not leave me alone. I think he was trying to score a date."

Sam laughed as he took a drink of his beer. "What's the matter? He wasn't your type?"

"Shut up," muttered Dean, taking another drink. He sighed as he set his beer down. "Oh, now this is the good stuff."

Sam frowned. "It's the exact same brand as the first one."

Dean frowned, looking down at his bottle. "Huh…maybe it's better the second time around."

Sam chuckled. "Maybe."

Pretty soon, they ran through their second beers, and Dean headed to the bar to get their third round. Sam waited ten minutes before turning around to see where Dean had disappeared to. Dean stood at the bar, talking to a blonde girl. He was laughing and leaning heavily against the bar. Sam frowned and headed over towards him.

Dean was in the middle of telling the blonde something. He looked drunk. "…so, my brother and I are trying to find a way to kill the devil. Then we can—"

Sam jumped forward. "And I think you've had enough to drink, Dean."

Dean frowned at him, his eyes going crossed. "No, I haven't." He looked at the blonde. "Gloria, this is my brother Sam. He's Lucifer's vessel, and—"

"Dean, time to get back to the motel," Sam interrupted, pulling him away from the girl. He dragged his brother towards the bar door. Dean's feet would not cooperate, and he was stumbling into Sam. Sam made it out the door before spinning Dean towards him. "What's wrong with you?"

"What do you mean?" Dean frowned. His eyes would not focus, and he was swaying back and forth.

"I have never seen you this hammered," said Sam. "How many beers did you have?"

"Um…I had…" Dean looked down at the ground, trying to think. He stared at the ground, eyes becoming unfocused again. He stayed that way for a moment.

Sam spread his arms out, waiting for him to answer. "Dean!"

Dean jumped a little and looked up at Sam. "What?"

"How many beers did you have?" asked Sam again.

"Oh, uh…" said Dean, thinking again. "I had…three."

Sam frowned. "Three beers? And you're halfway to pink elephant land? What's going on?"

"Hey, I'm fine," said Dean, slurring his words. "You're the one who can't hold his liquor."

"I'm not the one about to fall on my ass," said Sam.

"Well, you sure look like it," slurred Dean.

"That's 'cause your vision is spinning," said Sam, trying to grab his arm to lead him to the Impala. Dean shrugged his arm out of Sam's reach, overbalancing and falling to his knees. "Yeah, you're perfectly fine." Sam pulled Dean to his feet.

"I am, Sammy," said Dean, fumbling with his keys that he'd pulled out of his pocket. "Come on, I'll drive us back to the motel." He began heading into the parking lot.

"Oh, no, Dean," said Sam, darting forward and yanking the keys out of Dean's hand. "You are not driving, Dean."

"Why not?" Dean pouted, swaying as he turned towards Sam.

"You don't even know where the car is, Dean," said Sam.

"Sure I do," said Dean, heading back to the way he'd been going. "It's this way."

"Dean," said Sam. Dean looked at him. Sam pointed to their left. "It's that way."

Dean frowned as he looked over where Sam was pointing. He spotted the Impala and looked at Sam. "Like I said, it's this way." He began to stumble towards it.

"No, Dean," said Sam. "Passenger seat."

"Sam, I'm perfectly…" Dean trailed off, frowning, "…perfectly…fine."

"Dean?" asked Sam, rushing forward.

Dean looked up at Sam, his eyes suddenly more lucid than they'd been in the last ten minutes. "Sammy…I don't feel so…" Dean's eyes rolled up into his head as his legs collapsed under him.

"Dean!" said Sam as he caught Dean on his way down. He gently sat Dean on the pavement, moving around in front of him. "Dean?" Dean would not respond. "Dean!" Dean was slumped in Sam's arms, giving no response.

Sam pulled Dean into his arms, carrying him over to the Impala.

**********************SN**********************

Sam put his cell phone onto the table, wondering if he should call Bobby or Cas for help. Dean was lying on the motel bed, and he'd been asleep for five hours now. He still wasn't responding to anything Sam did. Sam looked over at his brother, really beginning to worry.

What if someone drugged him? Sam wondered. What if this is how they're trying to stop Dean?

Sam heard a moan from the bed, and he jumped forward, settling down next to the bed. Dean was frowning in his sleep.

A nightmare? Sam wondered. Is he in pain?

Dean fidgeted under the covers, moving his head around. He began moaning more as he curled up on himself on his side.

"Dean?" asked Sam.

Dean didn't respond, but only fidgeted more. He began groaning and breathing rapidly. His hand clutched the covers, his knuckles white.

"Dean?" said Sam again, reaching a hand forward.

Dean suddenly threw his head back as he began yelling. His back arched as his arms reached for his back, as though trying to get something off of him. Sam could only watch as Dean yelled in pain.