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Preference: Drunken Confessions

Sam:

It'd been roughly a year since you died and went to hell.

The boys tracked Castiel down and got him to pull you back up, but not before years (at least in hell's time) of torture.

You insisted time and time again that you didn't remember a lick of your time in hell, and you finally had Sam convinced.

But it wasn't true, and you were haunted every night with the memories.

It had been a long day, and you just finished a hunt.
Of course Dean drug everyone, including Cas, to the nearby bar.

You started out with beer, which turned into whiskey very quickly. And one very important thing about you, to put it bluntly; whiskey fucked you up.

So after a few shots of whiskey you were practically spitting out any information that popped into your brain.

"You know what, Dean?" You asked, swinging an arm around his shoulders.

He chuckled at your state.

"What, (y/n)?"

"Me and your brother had sex last night." You said bluntly, making everyone choke on their drinks.

"EW! TMI!" Dean hollered, downing his drink and mumbling that he'd need several more now.

"Alright (y/n), I think you've had enough." Sam said in a soothing voice as he took the shot glass out of your hand.

"Aw, Sammy! It's nothing to be embarrassed about! I wouldn't have slept anyway, I don't ever sleep." You said with a giggle, trying to take the glass back from Sam.

You failed, as all he had to do was hold it up high where you couldn't reach.

"What? You haven't been sleeping?" Sam asked, concern leaking into his voice.

"Yeah, I mean, it's hard to close your eyes when all you can see is hell."

With that, the group got quiet and still. Even in your drunken state you realized you said something wrong.

So you shrunk into Sam's chest, and mumbled,

"Can we leave?"

Sam nodded briskly, leading you out to the impala.
It was a quiet and tense ride back, and as soon as everyone made it back to the bunker, Sam put you to bed with a kiss.

__________

You woke up with a pounding headache, and a strange ache in your heart.

You could only remember flashes here and there of last night as you slowly climbed out of bed. Sam wasn't in bed with you, which made you frown.
You changed out of last nights clothes into sweatpants and a t-shirt before heading to the kitchen.

Dean and Sam were sitting at the kitchen table, steaming cups of coffee in hand.

"Goodmorning guys." You mumbled, pouring yourself a cup of coffee. You took a sip and turned to the boys, stopping when you saw the looks they were giving you.

"What?" You asked, dread filling your stomach.

"We need to talk." Sam started.

"About what?" You forced your voice to remain casual.

"Last night." Dean said.

You shrugged and continued to drink your coffee.

"Damnit (y/n)...don't play dumb with me." Sam growled.