"Nick!"

It wasn't a question so much as a demand for attention, almost a yell, and far too close to his ear. Nick stirred somewhere deep below the hazy layers of sleep and imported liquor. He knew that voice, he just couldn't be bothered to give enough of a damn to remember who it belonged to at the moment.

"Nick, please wake up or I'm going to call an ambulance." Now they were starting with the threats. And throttling- or maybe he was just rolling over. No. No, that couldn't be it. There was definitely something very involuntarily about the motion.

He managed to begrudgingly pry an eye open even though it went against the desires of every raw nerve ending in his aching body. His youngest brother was kneeling on the floor beside him- and why were they on the floor?

This wasn't right.

Sleeping on the floor was reserved for special occasions… like Christmas. Or June's birthday.

The room spun around him and his stomach rolled. He had just enough presence of mind to take note of the mixture of relief and tears made Castiel's eyes inhumanly bright. And despite his best efforts, Nick couldn't seem to focus, his brother sort of blurring on the edges. It was dizzying to look up at him and Nick closed his eye again, feeling almost sea sick despite the fact that he wasn't moving.

"No. Nick, you need to be awake."

"Fuck off." He thought he might have managed to slur. He didn't want to be awake. Not right now. Not for another day or two if he had any choice in the matter. But he didn't apparently because his brother was pulling him into an almost sitting position, roughly patting his cheeks, trying to keep him on this side of consciousness. Damn Castiel and his reckless first aid skills. Nick was not in need of keeping his airways clear. He could stay down there on the floor. Really, really.

"I'm calling an ambulance." Castiel repeated the threat with more force this time- and Nick believed him. He really did.

"No." He whined, doing his best to pull away from the uncomfortable embrace. Trying to return to the nice flat floor that had always been so kind to him. "I'm fine." And he practically was, so it wasn't as much of a lie as it must have sounded.

Being dragged towards the horribly loud and bright world of the living had been some kind of green light for his body to grant him one hell of a hangover. He might start puking in a bit, but it wasn't emergency vehicle worthy. He would survive without the aid of professionals. Unfortunately.

"You're not fine." Castiel's hands were pretty much the only thing holding Nick up, cold and clumsy, but very, very firm. The little accountant had unusually strong hands. "How much did you have to drink?"

Now, to be fair this wasn't the first time that Castiel had the opportunity to peel his big brother off the floor. And the two previous times ambulances were called, stomachs were pumped, hospital admittance forms were signed by next of kin- so maybe his concern was slightly justified.

"Jus' some vodka." He promised, trying to ease some of that agitation, though not for the other man's sake, just so that he could lay back down and close his eyes and feel all the bad that he'd done to himself tonight.

"The bottle is empty, Nick. How much is some?" Cas kept one strong arm around Nick, letting him slump forward enough to press his forehead into his knees in the customary position of shameless drunks everywhere, while he dug his phone out of his jacket pocket.

"I'm fine." Nick repeated, doing his best to bat the phone from his brother's hand and spare them both an unnecessary scene.

Castiel's eyes were still swimming, worry and all kinds of pains that weren't physical moving over his face so blatantly that even Nick couldn't ignore them. So he didn't. He pulled his kid brother into something that could have passed as a hug, mostly it was for support, and he tried to get the earth to stop moving beneath him.

"It's not like last time." He forced out from his torn throat. A weak promise at best.

"You're on the floor with an empty bottle and you weren't answering your phone and you weren't answering the door." Castiel said back, though he chose not to use his inside voice, still loud and unsettled with the fear that came with finding someone you care about unconscious. "This is exactly like last time- and the time before that."

"No. Last time I didn't wake up until the hospital. I'm awake now." He pushed his head into Castiel's chest and felt his stomach clenching. "I'm breathing."

"I thought you were doing better." He wasn't really listening. Too worried. Too caught up in the familiarity of the situation.

"I'm… I jus' had a rough night 's all."

"Nick, you can't keep doing this to yourself."

For the love of god.

He hadn't been drinking to oblivion- just enough to black out. There was a very small, but very significant difference. If he'd gone and done something stupid like killing himself how would he apologize to Sam for kissing him, or more importantly, how would he find a way to 'accidently 'do it again?

"I'm fine." And he wasn't. He knew that he wasn't. But a hangover wasn't even in the same zipcode of 'not alright' that his brother thought they'd come back to after so many years.

"Promise?"

"Promise." He put his head back down into the relative firmness of his brother's chest.

"Are you going to throw up now?"

Nick debated how long he could keep fighting it down, but as he had come to be more aware of over the past few weeks, he was no longer in control of his body and the things that it wanted to do. Probably never actually was. "Yeah." He finally admitted.

If it had been any other of his brothers, Nick would have been dropped back on the floor and left to suffer, but Castiel was a good kid. He helped Nick to the bathroom and patted his back in the comfortingly awkward way that he was oh so good at while his big brother tossed each and every one of his cookies.

"Should I tell Gabriel you're ok?" He asked once Nick managed to rid himself of all that nice, expensive alcohol and any possibly remaining dignity.

"Jus' don't tell him I was puking."

Gabriel might actually drive his way back down here for that, finding it the perfect excuse to return. Nick had his suspicions that the only reason he was safe from the little terror right now was that the man had gone home after work and had asked Cas to come and check on him when Nick hadn't called or answered his phone. It was geographical inconvenience that got him the care of his only halfway decent brother. Nick had never been more grateful that Castiel lived only a few blocks away.

Somewhere at his back he could hear the man making his purposeful phone call. Distant ringing. "Hello? -no, he's fine. He was just sleeping- ok- yes- I will tell him- I will. Goodnight, Gabriel." He hung up sighed softly, a usual reaction to dealing with Gabriel. "He says he knows you're doing this to him on purpose and if you don't start being nicer to him he will tell Sam about 'the picture'."

"Great."

"I'm going to get you some water." Castiel gave him one final, firm pat and got up, coming back a few seconds later with the promised hydration and a handful of little white pills.

"You are a gentleman and a scholar." Nick mumbled as he took the offering, downing all the pain killers and water, tossing them back like a shot.

He managed to find the strength to hold his head up, looking at Castiel who was oh so much taller when he was the only one standing. And his sweet, almost naive brother just smiled hesitantly down at him. Probably anyone else would be asking questions at this point. Wanting to know why Nick had just about drowned himself in Vodka, or what was the picture that Sam not supposed to know about.

But not Castiel. Castiel seemed to be completely at peace now that he knew that Nick was going to be alright and tonight wasn't just another halfassed suicide attempt.

For almost a whole minute Nick sat on the bathroom floor, watching his brother watching him and he tried, lord, but he tried not to think about the reason the back of his tongue was still slick with that bitter bile taste.

And luckily Nick had always been a champ at lying to himself.

"Would you like me to stay… or leave and turn out the lights?" Offered the most compassionate and understanding brother in creation.

"Stay." Nick found himself saying without hesitation. It wasn't so much that he wanted the company, he just really, really didn't want to be left alone right now. He made bad choices when he was alone, and perhaps it was time that he came to terms with that.

It would have been better to accept it a few hours and a bottle of vodka earlier- but better late than never, right?

Castiel made tea.

Nick wasn't big on tea. He actually didn't remember even buying the little brightly colored box. Maybe it had come with the care package that came with Sam? It tasted awful but felt good on his throat so he wasn't complaining too much.

After some firm convincing from Nick the blanket fort was eventually dismantled and they took up residence on the couch, all lights in the house other than the one down the hall were out and they sat in relative quiet and peace while Nick waited for the pills to kick in and the jack hammering in his skull to subside.

Half an hour later he felt marginally more human.

And right on cue- "You have a problem." Castiel gently told the darkness.

Nick strangled his cup between his hands. He hadn't asked his brother to stay because he was looking for a lecture. He wanted sympathy. Not an intervention.

"We all have our own unhealthy ways of managing stress and Dad wasn't exactly the best example of healthy coping mechanisms." Even in the poor lighting Castiel's dubious expression was hard to miss. "But this… drug addiction you have-"

"Alcohol isn't a drug." Nick bit off the words, sharp and angry. "It's a poison."

"If it's a poison then why do you keep drinking it?"

"Because there are things inside of me that I need to kill."

That shut Castiel up for a few minutes, which was good because Nick was a bit too horrified at what had just come out of him to say anything more.

So he drank his tea and debated if this was better or worse than the fact that he'd kissed Sam.

Sam.

He'd really kissed Sam. Oh god, but that mistake was as much of a tragedy as it was a triumph. It was a real shame that he ended up with an almost painful combination of liquor and vomit burning in his throat, slicking his teeth, instead of that sweet orange juice flavor that Sam's had given him. It was very possible that Nick would not be able to drink orange juice form this point on without feeling a little hot and bothered.

Damn, but who had taught Sam to kiss like that? And who had told him it was alright to use such lethal force without due caution and circumspection. No regard as to what such a casual act might do to Nick.

Ruin him forever, that's what it would do.

Castiel balanced his mug on a knee, so still and careful. "It must have been quite a night."

"You have no idea." He practically growled into his cup of earl grey.

"Does this have to do with Sam?"

And Nick supposed that Castiel couldn't always play the simple one. He noticed a lot more than he let on.

But everything had to do with Sam these days.

Just everything.

Every stupid, fucking, little thing.

And that excruciating little fact must have been plain on his face because Castiel suddenly looked far too sympathetic and understanding.

Nick wasn't big on sharing. Never had been. He liked to keep to himself. But he'd had a doozy of a day and suddenly he found himself talking, running his mouth- and he was horrified but at the same time he couldn't' seem to stop, his thoughts as loud and uncontrollable as a runaway train.

"Sam and I… God damn it, the only advice I've ever gotten about this whole stupid relationship was 'don't fuck it up' and that's the only thing that I've done since I met him." Maybe he just needed to get it out of his system, and out of everyone he had ever know, his baby brother was the only one to just listen without casting an ounce of judgment. Nick had already judged himself plenty over this right mess that he'd made. "I kissed him tonight, full on kissed him. Right on the mouth. God, he breathed me in. I could taste his heartbeat. It was practically a religious experience."

"Please don't blaspheme." Castiel interjected in the least intrusive way possible.

Nick kept barreling forward, talking over his brother. "I want him, Cassy. I want him so bad it hurts."

That actually felt good to say out loud.

"I think about him all the time. About his hands, and those dimples, and that stupid laugh of his, and that stupid mouth…" He found himself trailing off, getting a little lost with that last one. Fresh memories roiling too close to the surface.

It wasn't fair that Sam's mouth had fit so easily against his.

It wasn't fair that Sam had fit so easily between his legs.

And Nick was suddenly grateful for the hall light at his back, because he knew it would cast his face in heavy enough shadows to hide the sudden warmth he felt creeping up his neck.

"Then it's very lucky that you're dating him." Castiel obviously didn't understand the gravity of the situation. "It must make that sort of… fixation more convenient."

He suffered a tight breath. How far down was he willing to fall? Nick needed help. He really did- but Castiel? The sweet little accountant wasn't exactly the first place someone goes to for relationship advice.

He had no practical experience. What could he possibly say? You should repress all emotions and physical attraction until they go away. It had worked for Castiel for years. As far as any of them knew, their youngest brother had never dated anyone, much less engaged in any indelicate behavior.

"Unless…" Castiel held his breath for a moment. "Did you two have another fight?"

An idea was dawning on Nick, a way to help himself without losing two months worth of hard work. The words finding themselves easier than he expected. "It's complicated."