Catch Me When I Fall

Drunk

Sam had been waiting for Dean for two hours now, and he was getting worried. "Maybe I should go look for him."

"He'll come back when he's ready, Sam." Bobby wouldn't admit it, but he was just as worried as Sam.

"Yeah but he..." Sam stopped when he heard the car. "Oh thank god," he whispered, closing his eyes in relief. He sank into the wooden chair at the table, and waited for him to come in.

The door shot open, slamming back against the wall, and in walked Dean. "Hey Sammy," he said with a big grin on his face.

"Are you alright?" asked Sam, surprised at the sudden change in his brother.

Dean's eyes narrowed for a second, before he smiled again. "Never better, Sammy boy."

Sam looked at him more closely, and saw the reason he seemed in such a good mood- he was drunk. "Have you been drinking?"

"Who are you, my mother?" Dean staggered over to the sink, and poured himself a glass of water.

"Dean, you shouldn't drink and drive. What if you crashed the car?" asked Sam, walking over to stand in-front of him.

"I won't... I'm a good... I'm a go-" Dean stopped, and swallowed a few times, before throwing up all over Sam.

"That's disgusting," said Sam, taking hold of Dean's arm to lead him into the living room.

Dean tried to shrug Sam's hand off him. "Get the... h-hell off me. I don't need... need your help." He managed to get away from Sam, but staggered too far to the left, and ended up on the floor. "Whoa. How did I get down here? Ooh, the floors fluffy."

Sam rolled his eyes when Dean curled up into a foetal position on the carpet. "Dean, will you get up?" He took Dean's arm again, and led him to the couch.

Dean blinked up at him. "Ooh, you have... long hair, Sam," he said, reaching up to touch Sam's hair, but he moved away. "Awww. Big meanie."

"I'll be back in a minute." Sam turned to leave the room to go change his clothes, and tried not to laugh when he heard Dean behind him.

"Ooh. Look at my hand. SAM! LOOK AT MY HAND! Wow," Dean whispered in amazement.

Sam bit his lip, and almost ran out of the room. When he came back several minutes later, Dean was out cold. He checked on him, before going back into the kitchen where Bobby was still sitting at the table.

"How is he?" asked Bobby when Sam sat down.

"He's out for now. I just..." Sam sighed, and ran his hand through his already messy hair. "I don't know what to do. This isn't like him... First he's not eating, then he's getting drunk."

"Yer right. The only time I've known him to drink is when there's something bothering him."

"I'm going to sit with him for a bit," said Sam, standing up to see to his brother. He stood at the living room door, and watched him sleep for a minute, before grabbing the trashcan and his black hoodie, and going to sit in-front of the couch.

"Hey Dean." Sam covered Dean up with the hoodie to keep him warm, and ran his fingers through the dark blond hair. "I don't know what's wrong, but I'm here to help you," he whispered, smiling when Dean leaned into his hand which was now on the sleeping man's face.

-That night-

Sam woke up after three hours of sleep. He flicked on the lamp, and looked over at Dean's bed, which was empty. "Dean?" he whispered, before he climbed out of his own bed, and went searching for his wayward brother.

After searching the house, he finally found him in the kitchen with the light off. "Dean, are you okay?" asked Sam, going to sit with him. "Dean?" He reached out to touch Dean's arm when he didn't answer him.

Dean jumped at the sudden contact, and stared at Sam with wide eyes. "Sam?" He cleared his throat, and tried to act as if nothing was bothering him. "What are you doing up, Sammy?"

"I could ask you the same thing. Are you hungry?"

"No. I just couldn't sleep, that's all," answered Dean, staring at his hands.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"There's nothing to talk about. I'm fine."

"You're not fine Dean. There's something wrong. If you ever want to talk, I'm always right here... you know that, don't you?" He saw the expression on Dean's face. "Don't say you're fine. I know you're not. It's..." Sam paused to wipe his eyes to stop his tears. "I'm worried about you. And so is Bobby."

Dean didn't say anything, he just continued staring at his hands.

"We're not going to bother you unless you want to talk to us first, okay? Whenever you want to talk, even if I'm asleep, you can wake me up."

Dean finally looked at Sam. "I..." He paused for a minute. "I'm going to bed," he said, before standing up.

"Okay," said Sam, trying to hide his disappointment as he stood up and joined him. "But remember what I said."

As the two brothers walked back up the stairs in silence, Sam kept his hand on Dean's shoulder, smiling when it wasn't shrugged off.

The two made it to their room, and climbed into their beds. "Hey Sam?"

"Yeah?" asked Sam, turning to look at Dean.

Dean was silent for a minute. "Thanks," he whispered, before laying back down, and turning away from Sam.

"You're welcome, Dean."