Dean made his way to the kitchen after finishing the conversation with Sam. He spotted the second bottle on the table in front of Sam and reached for it as he dropped into a chair across from his brother.
He felt tired beyond belief. He'd always gotten by on very little sleep, but he just couldn't seem to get enough, or he wasn't really sleeping deeply when he slept. He wasn't sure what it was, but he knew he looked like shit.
He opened his beer and guzzled a good bit of it. "What's up, Sammy?"