a/n: i only write this while drinking. also i managed to write a fic under 1k. huzzah! my research has paid off.
tw: depression and obvsiously drinking plus cutting/SH is mentioned
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Drinking more was a mistake.
Dean was feeling the dizzying effects of the alcohol; the sensation of being under it.
The feeling of under the influence was the wonderful, wonderful alcohol taking effects. The drink of beer, vodka, even wine made him feel calmer and the whole world made more sense.
He usually felt this while sitting on the couch with his little brother or remote shit hotels in the middle of nowhere.
The drinking made him feel more alive with the effects of happiness, giddiness, with the sure liquid coursing through his veins.
Some nights he drank under the full moon and others he drank when the day hit noon. It didn't matter. What only mattered is that he was doing it more.
He had limits and times to start drinking, sure, and he stuck to them although Sam was giving him more looks these days.
It stung but how else was he going to drown the world? Castiel was gone, Lucifer was on the run, and basically God was dead. Those were the reasons he drank. He obviously did it out of habit but it starting looking as if the habit was growing worse.
This night Dean was on his second apple beer. He and Sam were sitting down for some good ol' chicken fajitas.
"Mhm." Dean moans at the chicken coating his mouth.
This is the best thing he has had all day. He spent the morning sleeping then practicing with his gun about a mile from the bunker. That was it til' dinner time other than a water. Then he was called with a text from his phone.
Dean had a lot of time and not a lot of that was not in the kitchen.
Dean was sipping down on his bottle when he caught Sam's gaze.
That look; it bothered him.
So he finally said something.
"What Sam?" Dean confronted his little brother.
"You know what." Sam responded with equal fevor to Dean's tone.
"That I'm having a relaxing day, drinking an adult beverage because I can?" He asked.
Dean raised the bottle to his lips, staring at Sam the entire time.
Sam responded by standing to this.
His chest was rising and falling rapidly.
"You can't be childish and an adult at the same time." Sam slapped his hands on the table, "Drinking heavily is not a good way to cope Dean!"
"Yeah and how do you cope?" Dean asked cooly, "Because..."
"You know I stopped doing that Dean. Please. Thats fine." Sam stepped away from the table.
He started pacing.
Dean raised his eyebrows as Sam said, "We have to stay vigilant and strong for when Cass or Lucifer show up. I promise you, they will show up when we least expect it."
"And I say that you should take off your shirt." It was Dean's turn to stand.
"What?! No. Dean you are not that drunk." Sam said.
"Oh no." Dean said lowly, "You know what."
"What?" Sam feigned.
"Damn it Sammy. It's summer and you have been wearing sleeves for fucking three months straight."
"And?" Sam countered, taking a step towards his big brother.
Dean took a step, challenging him.
"So prove me wrong."
Sam just sputtered then lowered his face, his eyes shadowed.
"Just stop it." Sam turned his head away, "You know I can't."
"Well us both." Dean took a swig of his drink, looking away from his brother.
Sam just stormed out of the room and Dean couldn't help but feeling bad for being right. It was finally confirmed both their truths were out into the open.
.
The furthest explanation was that he was ok or they were both ok for that instance.
Dean was drunk just as 6pm and the room and world was spinning.
Nothing felt right and nothing felt ok. He just kept on drinking. More booze, spilling, stomach hurt, wait, then more booze.
Alcohol.
It helped and it was fun but it really hurt.
If it didn't hurt anyone then it was fine but if you dragged someone else into it then it ruined lives. It hurt. It hurt others so much.
Sam seemed to always know when Dean was drinking more often. Dean in turn knew when Sam was self harming more.
Each brother had their vices and kept to themselves, never bothering to mention them again.
It wasn't healthy but that's how the Winchesters operated.