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Tweak says, "Mangina"

winchester, sam. (ex_demonbloo908) wrote in wariscoming,
@ 2013-03-01 23:37:00

Entry tags:

dean winchester, sam winchester

WHO: Sam and Dean
WHAT: Drunk brotherly bonding. See also: RIDICULOUS.
WHEN: Tonight!
WHERE: Lawrence. Out and about.
RATING: Probably PG-13 for language and general drunk.

Finding the motivation to step away from the seemingly never-ending assortment of research stacked throughout his study had been a surprisingly difficult process for Sam. While his reluctance to stray away from work for a night had absolutely nothing to do with Dean, physically getting up to see his own brother had absolutely taken a small toll on him.

It showed, too. When Sam first found his brother at the bar they'd agreed on, his heart really didn't seem to be in it. He was there, but he wasn't all at the same time. There was far too much on his mind. The war, Lucifer - everything. Why hadn't they stopped him yet? Why were people constantly falling through that seal, only to find that they had been dragged into a mess that he had started? Sam didn't want to be trapped in this war anymore. He didn't want to spend every day looking over his shoulder, he didn't want to have to worry about the safety of his family, and he didn't want to wonder if Dean was gonna crack before they found a way to stop Lucifer from ending the world.

It was that last part that made Sam agree to Dean's demand that they spend time together tonight. As hard as it was for him to get through every day trying to figure out what their next step was going to be, it was even harder for him when he thought about how close Dean had been to stepping over the edge before. He had wanted to say yes to Michael. He would have done it, too, if he thought that it would stop this whole apocalypse dead in it's tracks.

Maybe he still wanted to. Maybe, just maybe, if they didn't stop Lucifer soon, Dean would take matters into his own hands. Sam couldn't handle that. The mere thought of his brother letting some super powerful douchebag of an archangel into his body to take on Lucifer was unbearable. And with the way that Dean had been acting lately...

He had to go. Had to see his brother. And while Sam hadn't intended to get stupid drunk, the bottles and glasses in his hands somehow felt comforting in the midst of his anxiety. They passed through his fingers quickly and, eventually, Sam found himself teetering off of his bar stool and out the door with Dean close in tow. He didn't know where they were going. He didn't care. If they were lucky, they'd wake up in the morning some place far, far away from here, only to find that the apocalypse had been a dream.

But that was only if they were lucky. And if there was anything that the Winchester bros were not, it was most certainly that.

The taste of alcohol heavy on his breath, Sam muttered, "This...this is all your fault." They were on a sidewalk somewhere. It was late, so there weren't too many cars or people around. Just the two of them, drunkenly staggering their way through the dark. "I wasn't gonna - y'know what? You're a jerk."

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withgunsdrawn
2013-03-02 05:21 am UTC (link)

Dean glanced down at his phone - something was wrong with it, all it did was make words that he didn't want or letters that weren't words - and then back up as Sam slid off his stool (not particularly gracefully, and Dean let out a laugh that ended in a snort), hurrying to follow. The night was young. Or something. He wasn't sure where they were going - had they even talked about leaving? He didn't know - but it really didn't matter.

Somewhere between winning a dozen shots at a burger-eating contest and the point where time skipped ahead and he found himself tagging along with Sam as they pushed out the door of the bar - one hand reaching out to catch Sam's sleeve, because he was moving so fast there were lines and streaks and maybe that was the alcohol but if it wasn't, if Sam was moving too fast again, he didn't want to get left behind (not again, not this time) - somewhere in there, between all of that, Dean decided that something was wrong with his brother. Not something big like broken bodyparts or stabs or something, thank... something. Just, he wasn't right. He was heavy.

Not that he wasn't always heavy, now, ever since he turned like fifteen and started growing into a giant he was always freakishly heavy, but that wasn't the same thing.

And now Sam was calling him a jerk, and Dean looked over (up - way, way, way, way up, why was Sam so tall?) at his brother with a skeptical frown. "Wha'?" he asked, eloquently as ever, the "Bitch," that was tagged onto the end more obligatory than anything. He wasn't sure what was his fault, but he was pretty sure he hadn't done anything. Except steal Sam's fries. But he didn't think Sam had even noticed that, and anyway why would he be bringing that up so much later? Plus, that still didn't make sense. Probably.

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ex_demonbloo908
2013-03-02 05:46 am UTC (link)

Sam let an incoherent string of cranky words out in a grumble, then he tripped over the side of a crushed soda bottle that someone had tossed onto the ground. Moving as gracefully as a cat that had just been dunked into a bucket of water, Sam stumbled forward, threw an arm out to grab at the collar of Dean's jacket, and somehow - quite by a miracle, really - managed to straighten himself out before he hauled them both to the ground. "Whoops," Sam snorted. "That was...ha." Heart pounding from the near face plant, Sam shook his head, shrugged his shoulders, and decided to keep on walking.

"Your fault, too," Sam added thoughtfully after a second. "Makin' me come out here and...and...I should be doin' other stuff, y'know?" Right. Because that made a bunch of sense. It was still a little more comprehensible than what he had originally said, what with the lack of mumbling and incoherency and all, but not by much. The sidewalk ahead of them curved outward, giving them the option to either cross the street or turn left and keep following the path ahead. Sam didn't feel much like turning, so he kept going straight. It somehow seemed like a better idea. "If I don't keep the other stuff...if I don't stay busy, we could all..." Sam scrubbed a heavy hand over his face. "Never mind. Forget it. S'stupid, anyway." He glanced over at his brother and raised a brow. "Where'd you put all those burgers?"

Because clearly the concept of a burger eating contest had completely gone over his head.

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withgunsdrawn
2013-03-03 03:57 am UTC (link)

Sam was being a grabby, mumbley bitch, tripping over stuff, or something, and Dean grabbed at him right back, eyes widening almost comically. Once Sam seemed stable, he let go, patting his brother on the arm and watching him blankly as he started walking again, then hurrying to catch up.

>"If I don't keep the other stuff...if I don't stay busy, we could all..."

So he was right. He'd been right when he thought Sam seemed off. Heavy. Sam wasn't okay. If Dean wasn't drunk he was pretty sure he'd be able to know exactly what that meant, he'd be able to figure out how to make it better, but right now it all just fell into a neat little over-simplified category of Sammy isn't okay and he was going to fix it because fixing it when Sam wasn't okay was what he did.

Or tried to do. Sometimes, he didn't do so good.

"Sam," he started, but then his brother was acting like it wasn't important, brushing it off, and talking about the burgers, and he wasn't going to let him change the subject like this. Nope. Except, thinking about the burgers made Dean feel a little bit nauseous because really, they did not really go well with... whatever it was he'd been drinking. And he'd really eaten a lot. A lot. He was not sure that was safe.

"I ate them," he replied, with a tone and matching expression of dawning horror, "I ate all of them, Sam."

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ex_demonbloo908
2013-03-05 02:46 pm UTC (link)

Of course he did. What else was Dean gonna do with that much food? Sam smirked at his brother. "Gross." As if that wasn't bad enough, Dean had chased most of those burgers down with booze. The probability of Dean hurling on him tonight as a result of that particular combination was a lot higher than Sam wanted to think about right now. Not that thinking was a very high priority for him when he was stumbling over curbs and aimlessly wandering with his brother throughout the likely demon infested streets of Lawrence in the middle of the night.

"There are probably lots of demons..." Sam implied quietly. He cast a sideways look at Dean. "Out here. Right now. It'd kinda suck if they ate us."

Kind of was definitely an understatement. Sam slowly turned around to check out the path behind them. They weren't being followed. Not that he could see, anyway. Demons were tricky bastards. Some of them even knew how to use magic. One of these days, they'd learn how to turn invisible. Unless they already had? "We should probably go somewhere else," he suggested in a low voice, "y'know, just in case." If demons did attack, they'd probably target Dean. He'd eaten all those burgers, after all, which meant that he was good and fattened up for whatever barbaric cannibalistic ritual they may or may not have been planning in Sam's head. Sam really, really didn't like the idea of any demons trying to go after his big brother. They did that enough already and it'd be worse if they tried to do it right now because Dean was drunk.

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