Sam Winchester slammed into the bar door harder than he meant to, sending it crashing into the wall. Luckily the bar was noisy and loud, so he drew no one's attention. There were few times in his life that Sam could actually say he NEEDED a drink - but this was one of them.
After hours of walking, trying to reconcile his image of angels with the reality, he found himself just as frustrated as he was before. His sense of disappointment was profound and in spite of Dean being in the next bed, Sam felt utterly alone. No one could understand what he was going through, finding out he was a freak with paranormal power that he wasn't supposed to use at all – not even for good – not even to save lives, the reappearance of his brother only to find out that they were suppos4ed to be on opposing forces, and now this. Sam's entire belief system was turned on its ear. Yes, Sam Winchester needed a drink.
Elbowing his way through the crowd, Sam saw an opening at the bar and moved toward it. He had just slipped in when a young woman was inadvertently pushed against him, making him, in turn, bump the guy sitting beside him, sloshing his shot all over the front of his shirt.
Dark penetrating eyes bore into Sam's as the guy tried to brush it off.
"Oh man, sorry about that," Sam said sincerely. The last thing he needed was to piss off the wrong guy when he had no back up.
The guy was in his mid-twenties – maybe a year or two older than Sam. Dark and good looking in a boy band kind of way, he only slurred slightly when he said, "S'okay – don't worry about it."
"No, let me buy you another at least," Sam offered.
The man eyed him suspiciously but apparently decided that Sam wasn't a threat. "If only he knew," Sam thought grimly.
Sam immediately bit his lip to keep the smirk bubbling to the surface. "Man, Dean's sophomoric sense of humor must be rubbing off on me," he thought.
Peter narrowed his eyes and growled, "What?"
"Nothing," Sam replied hoping his wide eyed expression shouted innocence.
"Yeah, like Sam is such a fantastic name."
Sam snorted and sat down. "This guy doesn't miss much," he thought as he ordered another shot for Peter and one for himself with a beer chaser.
Just then Peter's phone rang a song by Jason Mann that Sam recognized instantly. It was the one that was playing when Dean unceremoniously unplugged his ipod from the Impala's docking station and threw it in the back seat. Peter pulled the phone from his front pocket, looked at the caller i.d., hit the mute button and threw the phone on the bar.
"Not feelin' it right now . . ." Peter muttered as he threw back the shot of tequila in front of him. Sam followed suit and the two sat in companionable silence. When Peter's phone rang a second time, he snatched it up, looked at it and turned it off.
"Sounds like someone is trying to get a hold of you," Sam said, more to make conversation than out of real curiosity.
The bartender set a second round of shots in front of the men as Peter rubbed his face. "Yeah, my big brother. He doesn't know where I am and that drives him crazy."
Sam's face was a mix of a grin and a grimace. "Yeah, I know what you mean."
Peter threw back the next shot and looked at Sam. "You know, I love the guy. I really do. But he drives me crazy. I know he's just trying to look out for me but I know what I'm doing. I mean, I make mistakes but hell, who doesn't. He just thinks he has to save me from all the world's evils out there and sometimes it gets . . ."
"Smothering?" Sam supplied quickly. "Frustrating? Uh, Annoying?"
Peter's face split into the first genuine grin Sam had seen in days as he said, "Wow, you really do have a big brother."
Sam threw his shot back and said, "Yeah, and I'm right there with you."
"What's the most annoying thing your brother does to you?" Peter asked, waving the bartender over again.
Sam eyed the his third shot, knowing he should slow down – especially on an empty stomach, but for the first time in a long while he felt like he could talk to somebody who may understand, well, not everything, but the basics.
"Well, it's kinda complicated."
"What isn't?" Peter snorted.
"My mom died when I was really young and my dad, well, he kinda checked out on the whole parent thing. Dean, my brother pretty much raised me. Then, I made the crucial mistake of wanting to do something besides . . . the family business. My dad flipped out, not that I had ever been his pride and joy to begin with."
Peter's eyes grew wide as he threw back another shot. "I know what you mean. My old man is a big corporate type – very big in New York. When I announced I was going to nursing school you would have thought I had actually cut his heart out with a spoon. He didn't even come to my graduation party. What did you decide to do instead of following in your old man's foot steps?"
Sam sighed. "I was pre-law at Stanford. I had a full scholarship."
"Wow, you're like my dad's wet dream," Peter replied. "What does your dad do that makes that look bad – head up the American Communist Party?"
Sam snorted as he threw back his shot. "Nothing quite that dramatic. Anyway, about two years ago, Dean and I, we decided to . . . go on an extended road trip. We hadn't seen each other since I left for college and . . .Anyway, I had changed. I mean not really personality wise but I don't know . . . I could do stuff that I had never been able to do before . . ."
Peter's gaze became intense. "What kind of stuff?"
Sam's eyes shifted away and he polished off his fourth shot savoring the heat in his chest and stomach. "It's not important. The important thing is that it kinda freaked him out that I could do this stuff. Since then he's . . . I don't know . . .he just doesn't want me to do it even though I can help people – I mean really help them in a way that not a lot of people can.
"Stop right there," Peter said, all traces of drunkenness gone. Peter told the bartender to hold their spots and told Sam, "Come on, I want to show you something . . . "
"Uh okay," Sam said warily.
Peter grabbed Sam's arm and all but dragged the taller man to the men's restroom. On a normal day, Sam could have broken the hold easily but he had to admit that that fourth shot may not have been the best idea.
Peter pulled Sam into the restroom and bolted the door behind him. Sam's eyes were round as he slowly started backing up. "Hey dude, you know I'm flattered and all but I don't swing that way so . . . "
"Shut up asshole," Peter said with a roll of his eyes. "Show me what you can do."
"What?" Sam said confused.
"Like this," Peter said as he winked out of existence.
"What the hell?" Sam yelped looking around the bathroom. He started violently when he felt the tap on his shoulder. Spinning he saw that Peter was now behind him grinning.
"How'd you do that?"
"Dunno. Genetic mutation or something. I just can. Now what about you?
"Wow, I can't do anything like that. Let's see . . ." Sam thought, getting into the game. "What about this . . ." Sam concentrated hard and the waste basket rose up off the floor three feet.
"Not bad," Peter said approving. "Can you do this?" Peter also began rising up off the floor and began to hover over the trashcan.
"Hell no." Sam said laughing. "Can you teach me?"
"Not something I think you can teach, you either can or you can't" Peter replied easing back to the floor. "Can you do anything else?"
"Uh, I can expel a demon possessing a human with my mind. . ." Sam blurted out and then stopped, realizing what he had just said and seeing the incredulous look on Peter's face.
"Sorry, misheard you. . . what?" Peter said.
"Nothing," Sam muttered, reaching for the door lock.
Peter reached out, putting his hand on Sam's arm. "You're shitting me right?"
Sam sighed deeply, "I wish."
Sam unlocked the door and headed back to his bar stool, Peter trailing him.
Seated once again, the silence was thick. Trying to reassure his new friend, Peter softly blurted out, "My brother . . . Nathan? Well, he stopped me from exploding once but it burned him over 90% of his body. We had to get someone to heal him."
Sam grunted. "My brother made a deal with a demon to bring me back to life and in exchange he died and went to hell." Sam threw back another shot.
"Wow, you win that one," Peter commented dryly signaling the bartender again. "However I did come back from the future and shoot my brother for the good of all mankind." Peter threw back his shot. "He was dead but we brought him back and now he thinks God is talking to him. He had this whole religious experience thing."
"My brother was ripped out of hell by an angel called Castiel. I met him and another angel tonight and they were both dicks." Sam tossed a shot back. "Dean is supposed to stop the apocalypse from happening."
Peter threw his shot back. "Yeah, I'm supposed to save the world, too."
Both the men heaved an aggravated sigh and waved at the bartender. The bartender looked worriedly at the two men but decided to serve them anyway. Who was he to stop a really good drunk and these guys looked like they were getting good and drunk.
After a minute of silence, Peter asked Sam, "So, you got a girl?"
Sam tossed a shot back. "My girlfriend was killed by a demon that set her on fire."
"Ouch," Peter said sympathetically.
"Yeah, the next girl I was with, I had to shoot in the heart with a silver bullet." At Peter's confused expression, Sam replied, "Werewolf."
"What about you?"
"Yeah, well, I met this girl and was instantly crazy about her. I think she is. . . .was . . .crazy about me too."
Taking in Peter's pained expression, Sam asked, "So what's the problem?"
"Found out she was Nathan's long lost daughter."
Sam's eyes widen as the implication sank in. "You mean you're her .. "
Both men throw back a shot together. "Okay," Sam said grinning. "You win that one."
Peter snorted a laugh and muttered, "Damn straight."
After a minute more of silence, Sam let curiosity get the better of him and asked, "Hey, your mom didn't die in a nursery fire, did she?"
"No, my mother is the CEO of Evil Incorporated. She runs a company who hunts down people like us to use us, manipulate us or jail us."
"Sounds like a real peach," Sam replied. As a second thought, he added, "my dad was possessed once by the demon that killed my mom and then he almost killed Dean, if that makes you feel any better . . ."
Peter looked at Sam and the two men started snickering at the absurdity of Sam's statement.
"Okay," Peter said grinning and throwing back yet another shot. "Beat this – the reason I had to shoot my big brother was because he was going to become President and start hunting down people like us." When Sam started to chuckle, Peter continued. "Yeah, the government was going to start doing experiments on us."
"Oh!" Peter almost shouted as if he had suddenly remembered something. Realizing he had caught the attention of some of the bar patrons, he lowered his voice. "AND I just found out that I have a long lost brother and . . ." Sam could hardly hear Peter because he was laughing so hard but Peter grabbed his shoulder, shaking him. "and get this – not only is he a serial killer but like my arch nemesis"
At that, Sam actually had to hold on to the bar to keep from falling off his chair, he was laughing so hard. He glanced at Peter through teary eyes and saw that he too was having a hard time holding it together. Finally, when Sam could catch his breath he said, "Okay, now you're just making shit up . . . "
"No, I swear. It's true." Peter started giggling which in turn got Sam got giggling again. "He even tried to kill me a couple of times. . . ' At that both men fell out, laughing so hard that the other people in the bar had a hard time keeping the smile from their face just watching them.
A good five minutes later, when both men finally had their selves under control, they ordered the next round. Staring straight ahead, Sam uttered his final secret.
"I was chosen by the demon that killed my mom to be the leader of a demonic army that will overrun the earth. . . ."
Sam didn't look at Peter when he replied, "No shit?"
"No shit," Sam answered finally cutting his eyes to look at Peter. His head was on his arms on the bar and his whole body was shaking. Alarmed, Sam reached out only to see Peter raise his head, face red and tears streaming down his face, trying to keep from laughing.
"You dick!" Sam said smacking Peter on the back of the head but somehow Sam couldn't keep the grin from his face.
Peter stopped shaking and somehow regained his composure long enough to look Sam straight in the eyes and said, "Wow – it sucks to be you." Having gotten the statement out, Peter broke out into hysterics and Sam couldn't resist laughing along.
"I must be losing my mind," Sam thought.
When Peter could once again speak he said between chuckles, "Hey I almost blew up New York."
Sam grinned and said, "No, you didn't. You're just trying to make me feel better."
"No, no I really did. AND I almost released a virus that would have decimated the Earth's population."
"Wow, your dad was right."
"Huh?" Peter asked.
"You are a screw up," Sam said grinning and both men dissolved into laughter again.
"Hey Chuckle Brothers," the bartender interrupted. "It's five till two. Last call."
"Well then, one for the road," Peter announced. Holding the shot aloft, he touched Sam's shot glass and said, "To us."
Sam grinned and replied, "Two screwed up sons of bitches with suck ass lives."
Peter threw back the shot and said, "Yep, it's good to be the hero."
Grabbing their jackets both men stumbled to the door. Heading outside, Peter asked, "You walk?"
"Yep," Sam replied squinting into the darkness.
"Where you staying? You need a lift?"
Sam turned and narrowed his eyes at his shorter companion. "A place over on 5th Street. The Three Palms or something. Why? You wanna Lois Lane me back over there?"
"Hell no," Peter snorted. "You look heavy as hell. Watch this."
Peter knew he probably shouldn't try to bend space when he was this drunk but figured it was only three blocks. Grasping Sam's arm, Peter closed his eyes and the two men winked out of existence . . . only to reappear in front of Sam's hotel.
"Wow!" Sam exclaimed. "That was cool."
"Yeah," Peter agreed, please that he had made the jump correctly. "Listen, I better go. It's already. . . ." Glancing at his watch, Peter stopped and uttered a small "Uh oh."
Sam turned from where he was trying to get the key in the door. "What? What uh oh?"
"Northing really." Peter said sheepishly. "I just pushed time back a couple of hours. It's actually 11:00 p.m. again . . ."
"It's no big deal," Peter reassured Sam. "It will all be a right as rain in the morning." Peter silently added, "I hope."
"Okay, if you say so," Sam muttered back, finally getting the key in the lock. Turning back to Peter, he grasped his hand and pulled him into a manly hug, which almost sent them both tumbling to the ground. Regaining their balance Sam said, "Dude, thanks. I needed that."
Peter grinned back. "Yeah, it helps to know that someone's life sucks just as loudly as mine. Take care, man."
"You too, Peter," and Sam quietly snuck back into the hotel room.
Moving as quietly as he could, Sam sat on his bed and pulled off his shoes.
Apparently his most quiet wasn't quiet enough. Sam answered his brother, "Yeah?"
Dean punched his pillow a couple of times before turning over. "Quit screwing around and go to sleep. We got a long day tomorrow."
Sam smiled in the darkness and delighted in the fact that Dean didn't even know he had been gone. Giving up on getting out of his clothes, Sam lay back on the bed and for the first time in his memory fell asleep with a smile on his face.