Ultimately, he had failed his brother. Dean was aware that Cas was from the future, or was it that he was from the past? Either way, the angel knew things that he did not, most importantly, the fact that Sam had somehow managed to get out of jail. Dean wondered just how long he would have had to wait for the return of his brother, had he stayed home, but he didn't want to ask. As far as he was concerned, he knew more than enough. Judging by Cas' reaction to him showing up, he figured that their lives hadn't gotten any easier, and that stopping the apocalypse hadn't done much. Well, at least not for them, anyway.
All he could think about was how disappointed his father would have been in him, knowing that he had given up on his brother. This was supposed to have been a brand new start for him and he was still completely miserable. The only plus was that he had Cas, and he wasn't completely alone. Tonight, he had a reason other than depression to get wasted, and he was all in. Dean had lost count of just how much he'd had to drink, but Cas kept filling his glass and he kept drinking, not giving a single fuck. "No," he replied simply, shaking his head in addition. "There's not a damn think I want to drink to, nor do I give a fuck about resolutions. Those are just empty promises and completely pointless."