In the Life Afterword: A Supernatural The Long Night Sequel

Drinking Games: [Part Three]...a Supernatural TLN Sequel

This is a really long chapter. And it wouldn't have been possible without my best friend. She helped me co-write it and she's been my editor for a long time. I owe her alot...and I hope she knows that.

My finger ached in a burning fire. I reached into the fridge and pulled out an ice cube and I decided it was time to change subjects. I grabbed the bloodied knife and rinsed it off in the sink.

“So…Sam, any luck on finding anything invisible that connects to the case?”

“No…no luck.” Sam sighed, tousling his hair with the side of his hand.

“I feel so bad for those people at the brewery,” Breanna pointed out. “They just keep having people die.”

"Yeah, I know how you feel.” Garth answered, while working on fixing his EMF reader. “You spend your whole life beautifying the world through beer, first partner offs himself, now two kids get ganked by unknown freakadeek.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Freekadeek?”

He looked at me, while setting down a screwdriver, “Yeah you have something wrong with the vocabulary of Garth?”

I scoffed, “Only when its sounds like the name of an ugly bunny.”

“Hey guys!” Sam called, getting our attention, “Dale was not only a business owner, he was also the Brewmaster.”

“Brewmaster?” Dean questioned,

“He’s widely considered a genius.” Sam stated.

Dean was taking a sip of whiskey out of Bobby’s flask. I scolded him but I wasn’t ready to do anything about it, after all, Dean had cut back on drinking since Sam’s gotten better, but I still wish he’d cut back more. Bad habits die hard though.

He sat up, “All right that’s it,” and he walked over to the bottle of Thighslappers. “No microbrew is worth what—eight food and magazine awards. Beers not food, its whatever water is…”

“Good for you?” I replied sarcastically. He scowled at me and handed Sam and Garth a beer. I looked at Garth’s EMF reader, it really was messed up, and it was going off randomly.

They all cracked open a beer, Dean offered Breanna one, she shook her head, “No thanks…I’m underage?”

“You sure…” Dean asked, “I mean—we break dozens of laws each day—I would doubt that drinking alcohol would make the top of the “don’t” list. I mean…I know Hope doesn’t like it…”

“I feel you drink enough for the both of us.” I sighed, taking Bobby’s flask long enough to pour it on the wound. It stung but cleaned it.

He shook his head in defeat and took a drink of Thighslapper, “Wow, that’s actually awesome.”

Sam smirked and took a sip. I heard a glugging sound and turned my head, “Damn Garth,” I stated. He had the bottle tipped back, drinking it all at once.

He kept chugging and under a minute he had finished the whole thing, we stared at him with wide eyes, what was wrong with him?

He finished the last bit and let out a small burp. “Wow,” Dean said impressed, raising his beer to him, “Party on Garth.”

Breanna set the quesadillas on the table, which we all began munching on contently. I grabbed the seasoned potatoe wedges and handed them to Dean.

“I don’t even usually drink beer.” Garth said, “It messes with my depth perception…especially when I skinny dip.” Breanna wrinkled her nose. I looked distastefully at the ground.