Chapter 5- Drunk and Depressed

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WARNINGS: Mentions of Heavy Alcohol Consumption

Dean was drunk sleeping on the floor of his bedroom, surrounded by bottles of beer. Sam walked in and carefully stepped around the bottles. He grabbed a blanket and carefully placed it on his sleeping older brother. Sam sighed and walked out, closing the door behind him.

"How is he," Castiel asked, looking up from his chair.

"Depressed, drunk, and sleeping," Sam said, "Listen, Cas. I was going to meet and talk to Rowena to find out how this whole mess started. Last I knew, vampires can't reproduce. So this doesn't exactly make sense. Would you mind keeping an eye on Dean for me?"

"Of course," Castiel said, a bit too eagerly.

"Thanks, buddy," Sam said, walking out the door.

Castiel went to his room and opened the door slowly. Dean was still sound asleep and lightly snoring. He tilted his head as his eyes examined Dean's face. The small array of freckles covering his face was subtly seen under the dim light. A small smile rested on his lips. Part of the blanket slipped off his shoulders, making Castiel carefully pull it back. He was close enough to gently touch his hair at least. Or even his neck. Just a small touch... He could play it off as checking for wounds or making sure he was breathing.

"Cas?"

Castiel froze as he realized he was hovering over him and staring at his lips. He looked up with only his eyes, meeting the green eyes of Dean Winchester, who happened to be awake at the wrong time! He smiled politely and patted his shoulder.

"Hello, Dean," Castiel said.

"What are you doing," Dean asked, his voice still a bit slurred, "Where's Sam?"

"He went to meet Rowena," Castiel said, "He asked me to watch over you."

"I don't need a babysitter," Dean grumbled, still a bit tired, "I'm a grown-ass man. I can take care of myself."

Castiel couldn't help the smile that reached his lips from Dean's small pout. It was supposed to be aggressive, but it was so cute to Castiel.

"What are you laughing at," Dean asked.

"Nothing," Castiel said, "You should get some more rest. You seem a bit tired."

"Don't tell me what to do," Dean grumbled, closing his eyes, "You're not my father. My father is a vampire that doesn't want me."

Just like that Dean was sleeping again. His face was somewhat peaceful as if he wasn't attempting to argue with Castiel mere seconds ago.

"Sleep well, Dean," Castiel said softly, sitting on his bed.

Damon drank his 7th bottle for the morning. Or was it his 8th bottle? He couldn't really tell anymore. It seemed to blur together with small drops of his tears that escaped his eyes without permission. Why the hell was he crying? It's just some guy? Some guy that is his biological son that he yelled at... Now he feels bad because the guy could've been everything he's ever wanted from a son.

"I need more bourbon," Damon muttered, getting up.

He staggered slightly as he went to grab another bottle of liquor.

"Damon? You alright," Stefan asked.

"I'm fine," Damon said, "Why do you ask?"

"Maybe because you stink of alcohol at 5 in the morning," Stefan sassed.

"Asshole," Damon grumbled, walking back to his other bottles.

Stefan followed him and watched him sit down amongst the bottles. He cursed silently under his breath. After an alcohol slide, Damon tends to get violent. That's the last thing anyone in Mystic Falls needs at the moment.

"Damon, this isn't healthy," Stefan reasoned.

"Well, good thing I'm already dead," Damon sassed, drinking directly from the sprout.

Stefan took the bottle from his hands, making Damon whine.

"You need to address your feelings," Stefan said.

"You need to stop watching Dr. Phil before bed," Damon sassed, snatching the bottle back.

Stefan snatched it back.

"Give me the bottle, Stefan," Damon sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Don't you want to find out how Dean was even born," Stefan asked, "I mean since he is technically your son, how is this possible? Maybe we should look for answers instead of drowning in tears and liquor."

"Who said I was crying," Damon asked, slightly offended.

"The tears welling in your eyes, dumbass," Stefan sassed.

Damon wiped his eyes, catching the tears in his hands.

"I have allergies," Damon said.

"Vampires can't get allergies," Stefan said.

"Well if we can reproduce then maybe there's a chance we can also get allergies," Damon sassed.

"Get up, get dressed, we're leaving in 10 minutes," Stefan said, "If you're not up by then I will be calling Elena to deal with a depressed, drunk Damon. And let me tell you, she's gonna adore that you can't stop crying like a giant baby."

Damon scoffed as Stefan walked away with the bottle still in his hands. He listened to him either way and got dressed within 10 minutes.

"Where are we going," Damon asked, following Stefan to his car.

"We are going to find a witch that tells us how this shit is possible," Stefan said, "Okay?"

"What witch? Because Bonnie doesn't know," Damon asked.

"We're not going to ask Bonnie," Stefan said, driving away.

"Then who are we going to ask," Damon pestered.

"Just sit back and get some sleep," Stefan said, "You look exhausted. Were you up all night?"

"Drowning in my liquor and tears," Damon sassed, closing his eyes.

Stefan glanced over at him not even after 2 minutes to find Damon was sleeping soundly. He smirked as he for once looked peaceful.

"Sweet dreams, brother," Stefan smiled.

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