say you won't let go, sam winchester [ 4 ]

024. memory loss

Dean called Sam and told him to meet at a waffle place.

They get to the waffle place and find Dean sitting at the counter and walk over and he notices them.

"Oh. Hey, did you bring any, um..." Dean points to his head. Sam takes a pill bottle out of his jacket pocket and shakes it. "Yes." He takes the bottle.

"Sounded like you could use it." Sam says.

"Oh, man." Dean opens the bottle, shaking a couple pills out.

"Rough night?" Sam asks, sitting next to his brother. Miranda lets the kids sit next to him and she sits on the other side of Carly.

"Rough morning." Dean corrects, taking the pills with his coffee.

"Wh-what happened? I mean, you just went out to get some food." Sam says.

"I don't know." Dean says.

"What does that mean?" Sam asks.

"I-I guess I blacked out. And judging from this hangover, it was epic." Dean says.

"Well, I tried to call you." Sam says.

"Um..." Dean shows Sam his cracked phone.

"Oh."

"Not sure how that happened."

"Great. All right, well, I'll text mom, make sure she knows to get a hold of one of us in case of emergency. And Cas, in case he tracks down Kelly." Sam says, getting his phone out. Dean looks at Sam in confusion. "The mother of Lucifer's love child." He reminds.

"Right. Right. Yes, the devil baby mama drama." Dean remembers. "Say that five times fast. Devil baby mama drama."

"All right, Dean, you know what, uh, you had a good run, but maybe let's pump the brakes a little bit. I mean, you're not 20 anymore."

"Okay, one, the Rat Pack partied till the day they died. And B, I can still kick your ass. Mm. Got a man who needs some waffles here. Woman and baby too."

"Oh, no. I'm-- I'm fine. I'm..." Sam tries to object.

"You can just take these if you want." Dean slides his plate over to Sam.

"No, Dean."

Serena slides the plate over, digging into the waffles. A waitress places some forks down, Wyatt quickly joining his younger sister.

"Look, the morgue opens in, like, 10 minutes." Sam informs, glancing at his watch.

"The morgue?" Dean asks.

"The autopsy results." Sam says. "Are you still drunk?" He asks.

"I don't think so." Dean says. Sam sniffs Dean.

"All right, our-- our case? The dead guy, throat stuffed full of money. Any of this ring a bell?"

"Right, yes. Right. Um... the accountant. Barry Gilman."

"Right."

"Right. Uh, and you think he got his ticket punched by a demon."

"Maybe."

"Okay, but when we went over to his place yesterday, we got a whole bunch of jack and a little bit of squat. There was no hex bags, no EMF, no sulfur, which means no case."

"Yeah, but if it's not a case, then what is it?"

"I don't know. Death by money? You know, maybe the guy got whacked by, uh, some mob dude with an ironic sense of humor."

"All right. Well, I'm gonna go scope out the body. If you wanna spend some more alone time with, uh, your waffles... all right. Have fun." Sam gets up.

"Fine, hold up." Dean gets up.