Thirteen bottles of beer on the wall
Summary: Sam analyzes his brother's drinking habits.
Warnings: Spoilers for Seasons 4 and 5, specifically, the episodes "Yellow Fever," "Sam, Interrupted," and "Dark Side of the Moon." One f-word (and I know this sounds so…little girl, but it's the first time I've ever actually used it. *gasp* Bad me. *scolds self and scours mouth out with soap*). Title from the Pink Floyd song.
Comfortably Numb
It started with that case in Rock Ridge, with that spirit of the man who was dragged behind a truck until he was dead, Sam finally realizes. At least, that's when it started becoming a real problem. Dean's drinking, that is.
Dean hadn't been a real heavy drinker to begin with.
The hunting life is hard. You deal with the terrible things you see by drinking and killing more of those evil sonsabitches. If you can't deal, then you end up in the loony bin like more than just a few hunters. Sam and Dean know some guys like that—Martin, to name one. So Dean used to have a couple of beers at the bars they frequented, maybe had a few shots. He'd get buzzed for fun, sometimes he'd drink more than usual after a particularly bad hunt, but he sure wasn't a chronic alcoholic.
Then bad shit started happening, like Dad dying, and Sam dying and Dean making his deal. When Dean came back after Hell, he was…different. Not different, as in he was a complete stranger, but he seemed more tired, more vulnerable. Big brother wasn't really "big" in Sam's eyes anymore, just older, worn out. In the very beginning, when he'd first come back, he'd seemed almost unchanged (he said he didn't remember anything at all of Hell), and it was Sam who was different, but as time passed, Sam started noticing things, small things that were just off about his older brother.
Like the way Dean started avoiding any meat that had to be cut with a knife, or how he zoned out and stared at the grotesque masks on display during Halloween as if fascinated and horrified by them at the same time. And the drinking. Dean started stealing nips here and there when he thought Sam wasn't looking. Of course, he never went on a hunt actually drunk, until that ghost sickness case.
It started out alright, as bad cases have a tendency of doing. They'd interviewed the sheriff and gone to the morgue to poke around. Sam got squirted with spleen juice, which was real fun. Then Dean had started getting panicky about his car. Mind you, that's really a normal occurrence, so there was no way Sam could have realized that something was up with his brother then. Well, Dean started getting really paranoid about driving (he was going the posted speed limit, for crying out loud!) which was what made Sam suspicious. That, and the EMF went off when it was pointed at Dean.
By the time the ghost sickness had taken its full effect, Dean was chugging, really chugging that whiskey. That was the first and last time he'd gone into a job completely tipsy, but upon reflection, Sam's pretty sure that that's what started Dean depending more on the alcohol to get him through his days. Thinking back, from analyzing his brother's symptoms, he's certain that Dean's suffering from classic depression and alcoholism. Maybe PTSD. Something, anyway. Sam's gotta look that up when he has the time.
Maybe the drinking helps. Maybe it's a problem. Sam's certainly not going to mention it, seeing as Dean'll probably get defensive and bring up the demon blood addiction. That'll just start the whole argument rolling again, and Sam doesn't want that. He's tired too, he's tired of fighting Dean.
When they check into that mental asylum disguised as patients to help Martin out with his case, Sam's surprised by the honesty with which Dean spills all his secrets and feelings to the doctors, even though that was the plan. He's never seen his brother so willingly and completely truthful to anyone. It's ironic that they're telling the truth to seem like they're making things up.
Well, that case gives Sam a jarring look at how exactly Dean's feeling. He's messed up, completely, totally, irreparably fucked up, and Sam has no idea how to fix him. So he lets his brother numb himself with alcohol until he passes out into a dead sleep and doesn't wake up 'til morning. Before they leave each motel, they clean up the cans and bottles together without a word.
By the time they get killed and take the Heavenly Disneyland tour, Dean's going on about fifty to sixty drinks a week, which might be a sign for Sam to step in. But, Sam thinks, maybe he shouldn't. This is how guys like them deal with the shitty nightmare that is the hunting (and Winchester) life. Self-medication, repressing memories, whatever works. They take care of their crap and shut up about it.
Because seriously, there's an Apocalypse going on—maybe Dean's got the right idea.
AN: Kinda feeling depressed right now, what with real life stuff an all. Question: Is anyone actually reading these? I think I need to write myself a happy!fic.