Self-blame and guilt were specialties of the Winchester's. Sam wasn't as good at it as Dean was, but he had his moments, and even without a soul in his body he was 'feeling' shitty about a few things. What they had sort of discussed - Adam. Dean had tried to ask Sam who had said Adam hated him, but he was slowly becoming the reigning monarch of deflection and drew Dean's attention away. Sam was the one who thought that. Dean had said once he needed some empathy in his life, and to be able to grasp the situation better he had put himself in Adam's place. If their positions had been reversed, if Adam had been the one to drag Sam down to Hell with him, and the last face he had seen when that nightmare had started had been Adam's? He'd hate him. So he tried to give him peace, so he stayed away from him.
His thoughts were broken when he heard Dean all out to him from the other room, and he grabbed a handle and left the room. He was glad that he and Dean were spending time together. There had been a few years where they had constantly been together, and not really tiring of each other (often) spoke of the strength of their relationship. He really didn't need anybody else, he wasn't the social creature that Dean was, and this, what they were doing right now, just practicing for a show that Dean was in, was another one of their moments that was going on his highlight reel.
"This long, ass," Sam walked over to the stairs and held up the object, a small, familiar ice chest, up before he set it on the floor and pulled out two cold ones and gave one to Dean. "I had to go outside. Saves on the mess and the back and forth so we can just focus on this and making sure you nail your lines."