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."