I know I said I'd have a LONG chapter LAST weekend, but real life seems to get in the way a lot lately. But here's a short chapter for you.

Chapter 5

Judith descended the staircase and joined the Winchester brothers in the lobby. Dean grinned sloppily as the older woman approached.

"I thought you two were going to go on up to your room. I see Kendall has you sampling some of our famous scotch," Judith looked pointedly at Dean. "I'm not so sure that's a good idea, Mr. Whitman."

Sam frowned and looked at his brother, who was beginning to sway atop the bar stool on which he was perched.

"Well, aside from the obvious reasons why it's a bad idea, what do you mean by that?" Sam directed his question at Judith as he stepped closer to Dean, hoping to prevent his brother from landing headfirst on the hardwood floor should he topple over.

"The head injury, of course. We don't know how bad it is, and I don't believe alcohol is recommended in a case like this." She put her hand inside her pocket and produced two large white pills. "I managed to find some ibuprofen upstairs. He should take these. They will probably ease the inevitable hangover as well."

Sam nodded and took the tablets from Judith. He took Dean's glass and filled it with water from the bar faucet and presented them to his brother. "Here, Dean. Take these; they'll help your head feel better." Dean shook his head and attempted to push Sam's hand away.

"My head feels awesome; 'member what I said about a buzz kill? You're pushin' it Sasquatch. Where's Kendall?" Dean spun around clumsily, looking for the innkeeper. "He said he was gonna bring back s'more whiskey." Dean's voice had taken on a sing-song drawl as the alcohol in his system kicked into high gear. His brother's uncharacteristic lack of control was unnerving Sam.

The younger Winchester took a deep breath. Deciding he'd had enough, he put his hand firmly on Dean's shoulder and presented the pills once again. "Listen Dean, you take these and I won't say another word. You and Kendall can stay here all night and drink yourselves into a stupor if that's what you want. Just take the damn painkillers."

Dean raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Bitchy much? Jeez Sam, okay. Give 'em here."

Judith visibly relaxed when she saw Dean take the pills, but then looked towards the door Kendall had used and frowned slightly. "I wonder what's keeping that husband of mine."

Sam looked at Judith blankly, adequately suppressing his growing irritation with the Conroys and his besotted brother. He hoped Kendall didn't show up anytime soon. Even though he knew Dean wanted to use the time to interrogate the guy, his brother was reacting to the drinks a little more quickly than usual, and Sam wasn't sure he'd remember anything after the first couple of drinks, anyway.

"Do you think there's a problem, Judith?" Sam wasn't eager to leave Dean alone in his condition, but he was curious about the innkeeper and why the guy's wife was so jittery. "Would you like me to go see if I can find him?"

Before Judith could answer, Dean clumsily stood up, knocking the stool over in the process. He grabbed his brother's arm. "Saaamm. Don't go wandering around this freaky ass castle by yourself, man."

Surprised by the outburst from his normally laid back sibling, Sam winced slightly as Dean's hand squeezed tightly around his bicep. "Jeez, Dean, enough with the kung-fu grip already. I just want to see if Kendall plans on returning, or if we should call it a night."

Dean eased his grip, looking slightly embarrassed and confused. "S-sorry there Francis, I forgot how delicate you are."

Exasperated, Sam wasn't sure what he should do next. Clearly, Dean was not going to cooperate. Stubborn under normal circumstances, a drunken Dean Winchester made a mule look compliant by comparison. He felt Judith touch his arm.

"Listen, son, I'll go see if Kendall's okay. The alcohol doesn't really effect him too badly because he's built up a good tolerance, but still, he could have fallen down those rickety cellar stairs. He did once before, but luckily he didn't hurt himself. Why don't you take Mr. Whitman up to his room?"

Sam smiled weakly at the older woman, who was looking at him expectantly. Sam nodded once and looked at his brother, who was beginning to sway on his feet. Suddenly, all the color drained from Dean's face and his eyes lost focus. He reached out for his brother.

"Sammy?"

Sam was at Dean's side immediately as he saw that his sibling was in trouble. He grabbed him by the shoulders to support him, but quickly realized that Dean was going down.

Shit! "Dean!" Sam caught him and slowly lowered him down to the floor. He felt for a pulse at his neck. He found one, although more rapid than Sam liked.

"Oh no, Mr. Whitman! He didn't drink that much did he?" Judith inquired, staring wide-eyed at her guests on the floor.

Sam was angry and scared. "No, Mrs. Conroy. I've seen my bro-, uh Dean drink way more alcohol in a short time and still drink everyone else under the table." Dammit, Dean, why did you drink that shit? "Has anyone else reacted to the scotch like this?"

Judith frowned absently. "I-I'm not really sure. I know some of the guests got a little carried away from time to time, but if anyone passed out, I never knew about it. I-I'm sure Kendall would have said something."

Sam's eyes didn't leave his brother, even as he addressed the woman. "I'm going to carry him up to the room. He looks pretty sick. If you find Mr. Conroy will you tell him I'd like to talk to him, please?"

Judith nodded, appearing shell-shocked by the incident. She watched Sam lift the unconscious young man gently over his shoulder in a fireman's carry and disappear up the stairs. She turned and headed down the hallway leading to the cellar. She was pretty sure what she would find there.