Sam wasn't actually drunk, he was just...sort of on his way there. He didn't down drinks as fast as Dean or Cas would have, but he wasn't exactly going to stop any time soon.
This place was just bullshit. Not only was he apparently still working for the freaking Devil, he was alone. No Dean. No Bobby. Not even Castiel. He wasn't sure that he could have handled Cas for a long period of time without Dean around, but that wasn't even the point.
He hoped Dean was okay, though. Dean could be reckless, and self-destructive. He could also get into this habit of blaming himself, and...
Sam tossed back the rest of his drink. How the fuck was he going to get out of this one?
He motioned to the bartender for another, but didn't drink it when it came. Moderation, right?