Title: Whiskey-Soaked Confessions
Author: Disasteriffic Kaz
Info: Author's Note Convention challenge prompt for ANCon2013: Dean and Sam get their drunk on and make a few confessions. Prompt in A/N Post 8x02 angst!sam angst!dean
Author's note: This piece is written for a prompt for this year's upcoming Author's Note Convention: Here is the prompt:
Dean's been in Purgatory for a year. His alcohol tolerance has reset itself. I want accidental drunkenness. Dean telling Sam about an exceptionally difficult or painful event in Purgatory. Sam then getting accidentally drunk by absentmindedly drinking more as he hears the story, and then doing some kind of confession about SOME THING.
Beta'd by the always awesome JaniceC678 :D – Friend and Muse's co-conspirator.
Do please Review once you've read. :D Every comment and vote of support helps keep me writing. Not to mention if I've pooched anything, someone can always tell me. :P
Dean knocked back his seventh shot…or maybe it was his eighth - he wasn't so sure anymore -and wondered when the last time was he'd gotten that trashed on so little. He was pretty sure the only thing keeping him upright on his stool was his brother's shoulder nudged up against his right side at the bar. He'd only been topside for a few weeks. Dean could still smell the stink of Purgatory on himself, or thought he could, and sometimes wondered that Sam didn't.
"Bottoms up." Sam grabbed the whiskey bottle and refilled Dean's glass and then his own. He glanced at Dean and smirked. Unless he was mistaken, his big brother was damn close to drunk.
"M'not a cheap date, Sammy," Dean slurred and lifted the glass, swallowing it, and grimacing as it burned down his throat. He watched the smile on Sam's face, the easy grin that followed and then the concern in his eyes and Dean sighed. He'd missed that. A whole year of nothing but death and fighting and blood and it wasn't burgers, women, or even his baby he'd dreamed of coming back to. It was Sam.
Dean let Sam pour him another shot of whiskey and nodded. "Tried to be you when I was down there," he said offhand and shrugged. "Turns out I ain't you. Didn't work, but I tried."
Sam stared at him, confused. "Dean?"
"Couldn' save her, but I tried, Sammy. I swear." Dean leaned forward drunkenly and rested his elbows on the bar. He looked up and met his brother's hazel eyes in the mirror over the bar. "Failed her." The misery in the depths of Dean's own eyes momentarily took Sam's breath away.
"Who did you fail?" Sam asked softly. He knew it was the alcohol loosening Dean's tongue and he supposed he shouldn't take advantage of it, but he wanted to know what he'd survived in Purgatory, what new private hell he had been through, and sober, Dean wasn't talking. So Sam decided he'd take what he could get, and he filled Dean's glass again and his own and emptied it with him.
"Lenore," Dean breathed her name sadly and dropped his eyes from his brothers. "S'where the monsters go when they die, dude. She was there."
"You found Lenore in Purgatory?" Sam startled with shock. It had never occurred to him that Dean could run into creatures they had killed over the years. He supposed it should have been obvious. But Lenore? Lenore had been a friend. Whatever Sam may have hoped for her after she begged for her own death, the look on Dean's face told him it had been something else entirely.
Dean shook his head. "Couldn't save her, an' I tried." He held his glass out to Sam again while the memory flooded through him with the familiar, bitter feeling that gnawed at the very fiber of his soul.
Dean ran through the twisted forest of Purgatory, stalking his prey. He and Benny had accounted for two vampires, but the third had run. He glanced to his left and saw Benny pacing him through the trees and nodded. This bloodsucker wasn't getting away. He skidded to a stop beside a large tree and grunted in surprise as he was hit from the side. The impact knocked the breath from him. Dean hit the ground and rolled to his feet with the Purgatory blade tight in his hand to face his attacker.
The vampire was a woman and snarled at him. She reminded him of a feral cat with madness dancing in her eyes. She paced one way and the other, looking between him and the blade as if deciding if she could reach him before he killed her. The rows of fangs descended as she hissed and Dean grinned.
"That's it, bitch. Come and get it." Dean curled his fingers at her, hungry for the kill. She screamed, and Dean froze, staring. Beneath hair long-matted with blood, mud, and other things and a face covered in a war paint of the same…he recognized that sound. Shock flooded through him as Benny rose up behind her. "Benny, wait!" He watched Benny check his swing as she lunged for Dean.
In a single, smooth motion, Dean dropped his weapon and grabbed her arms instead, turning and thumping her into the side of a tree to hold her still. "Lenore!" It was her, he could see it now - the vampire Sam had once saved from Gordon and that Castiel had killed at her own insistence when Eve, the Mother of allMonsters, had been in her head. "Lenore, it's me! Dean Winchester!"
"You know this hellcat, brother?" Benny asked in his low southern drawl and came around him for a better look. "She don' look so good. Not every monster handles Purgatory as good as yours truly. This one…" Benny leaned in and sniffed along her shoulder as she hissed and spat at him. "…she's gone native, haven't ya', Cherie?"
"Kill you!" Lenore growled into Dean's face.
"Dammit, Lenore!" Dean shook her. "It's me!"
"Should kill her now before she tears your throat out," Benny said and smiled at him. "She's gonna make you in a minute."
"Back off, Benny!" Dean glared at him, and Benny raised his hands and backed away with a shake of his head.
"Suit yourself." Benny bent and picked up Dean's weapon and gave him some room to have his little reunion, staying just close enough to save him when it went the way he knew it was going to.
Dean turned his attention back to her. "Lenore. I know you know me."
"I know you," Lenore's voice was low, haggard, as she glared hatefully at him. "How could I forget you?"
"Then what?" Dean was confused. Here she was, a piece of home…of Sam…and she looked like she wanted to kill him. He decided he'd do whatever it took to save her and she certainly seemed to need saving. "It's alright. I'm not gonna hurt you."
"Oh, Dean." Lenore smiled her rows of pointed teeth at him, "but I'm gonna hurt you. I owe you." She gave an inarticulate scream and drove her head forward, catching him in the temple and stunning him.
Dean staggered back as she came at him. "NO!" he yelled when he saw Benny take a step forward to come and finish her. "She's mine, dammit!" He grunted as she hit him again, knocking him back. "Lenore! Whatever this is…"
"Whatever this is?" Lenore mocked him, spitting his words at him. "Why didn't you take my head? Why did you let the angel do it? Do you know what it felt like?" Lenore screamed and launched herself at him, pinning Dean to the ground. "Holy fire burning into me oh GOD you son of a bitch you let him burn me! I BURNED!"
And Dean understood. He held her head and clashing teeth away from his face, swallowing hard as guilt flowed through him and tried to choke him. "I'm sorry, Lenore. I'm so sorry." He remembered the moment she died and the scream that had echoed through Bobby's cellar. He hadn't even had a chance to react before Castiel placed a hand on her head and then she was gone, dissolved into ash. Why had he let Cas do it for them? He should have done it. He should have known. What had he done to her? "Lenore…"
"Too little." Lenore lunged again and gained an inch, pushing against his weakening arms. "Too late."
Dean flinched at words he had once thrown at his brother after their father's death. He wondered if they had cut Sam as deeply as they now cut him. The thought curled painfully around his heart. "Lenore, don't make me kill you!" He shouted with the effort of holding her off. "Please!" All he could see was Sam's face. His brother had fought for this woman to save her. Sam had bled for her. And Dean…he'd failed her. He'd let her die a tortuous death. He owed her and he owed Sam. "Lenore!"
She ignored him and punched Dean's left elbow, collapsing his arm, and her momentum carried her forward. Dean shouted in pain as her teeth broke the skin of his neck. He slammed his knee up into her side and rolled them. He took her hair and pulled her free of his neck, and then Benny was there.
"You done tryin' to talk sense to the senseless, brother?" Benny drawled and held out Dean's weapon with a sad smile. "I'm thinkin' there ain't enough left of her to listen to you."
Dean held the insane vampire and took the handle of his machete from Benny. "I'm so sorry, Lenore." He brought the stone blade up and slammed it down into her neck and into the earth below. Her head rolled free on a scream, and he scrambled to his feet, staggering back as he wiped her blood from his face. Her eyes seemed to stare accusingly up at him. "Sam would have saved her," Dean whispered as he looked at her hopelessly. "He would have found a way."
Dean tipped back another shot while his head swam and looked up at the mirror again. Sam's eyes were bright with unshed tears, and it hurt him. "Couldn' save her." He lowered his head again and stared into the empty glass. "Couldn' save any part of you. M'sorry."
Sam's heart ached listening to him. He blinked and the first hot tear slid down his cheek. He brushed it away and poured himself another drink. He gently moved his brother's hand and poured him one too. "I'm sorry," Sam said softly, the words nearly catching on the lump in his throat. Guilt ate at him as it had from the moment Dean had told him where he'd been for a year.
"Huh?" Dean jerked his head up and looked over at him. "Dude, why you sorry? I'm the one who didn't save her."
Sam raised his eyes and met his brother's gaze. "I didn't save you," Sam told him, his voice barely more than a whisper, and smiled sadly. The fact that he was drunk was making it hard for him to keep back the tears. He swallowed hard and cleared his throat, looking down at the bar. "I did -" He'd never meant to tell Dean, but now, in the face of Dean's grief, he couldn't stop himself. "I tried to...to find out what happened." He sloshed the whiskey bottle, pouring himself another. "'Cause you were…you were gone…jus' gone, an' I was alone." Sam drank the shot quickly and held on to the bar. "Caught some demons an' levi…lev…big mouths."
"You did what?" The pain and sadness in Dean's eyes were quickly replaced by something else as he glared at Sam as fear for his brother washed over him. The thought of Sam going after demons and leviathans on his own while in a panic over him was sobering…and terrifying.
"But nobody kn…knew." Sam continued as if his brother had not spoken, and waved his glass at Dean and scowled. "I kept ashking but…but nothin'. And then Crowley…" Sam trailed off, swallowing audibly and took the bottle again, unaware of the fear and anger crawling over his brother's face. "He said….he grabbed me. Wasn' payin' attention. Shtupid. I was…said he was glad I was taking out the l…big mouths, but there was no point in me askin' about you. He said…he said you were dead an' I had to accept it." Sam gave a bitter laugh. "Told me to get it through my thick…my thick cro-magnon skull."
"Sam," Dean watched his drunk brother swaying and put a hand on his shoulder.
"'Was right. You died. Again. Thought this time it was forever. N'more angel friends. N'more demon deals." Sam's eyes betrayed him again, wetting his cheeks, but he didn't care. "You died on me."
"I didn't die, Sammy." Dean said through a throat gone tight with emotion.
"You did." Sam nodded as tears fell unchecked down his face. 'For me, you did. Didn' know you were in Purg…purgatory. Didn't even know that could happen. You were dead and I was still here and…an' I didn' wanna be." He snorted a laugh suddenly, brushing at the tears on his face. "So I was gonna drive."
"Drive what? Where?" Dean watched his brother and, even through the whiskey fog in his head, saw something on Sam's face that disturbed him. "Where were you goin'?"
"Off a cliff." Sam grinned and used his hand like a plane, sliding it through the air and then crashing down to the bar where he picked up Dean's shot and tossed it back, thumping the glass back onto the bar. "S'gonna…gonna crash your baby but…but s'okay cause…" He tossed an arm over Dean's shoulders. "We were gon'be…" He laughed softly. "Blaze o'glory, dude."
"Jesus, Sammy," Dean breathed in horror, envisioning the fiery death Sam had planned for himself.
"But I didn't." Sam looked over at him finally with a smirk. "Hit a dog." He chuckled and shook his head. "Had to…had to save him 'cause….I couldn' save you. Then I knew what I had to do." Sam smiled over at Dean again. "Had to…do what I tol' you. Remember? Live a n-normal life." And Dean did remember…remembered another time when Sam was planning to willingly throw himself off a cliff – or into a pit – to save the world and the promise he had extracted from a devastated Dean beforehand.
"But I get it now." Sam settled his arm more heavily on Dean's shoulders. "Why you didn'…why you couldn't make it work with Lisa." He nodded more to himself than to Dean. "Killed me a little…every day, every damn day, 'cause you died without me. You weren't supposed t'do that. You said…" Sam hiccupped and poured another shot, getting more on the bar than in the glass. "You said we'd go together." He raised the half-full shot glass and smiled at Dean. "Broke the…broke the code."
"What code?" Dean rescued the glass before Sam could get it to his mouth, took it and knocked it back himself. He nudged Sam's arm off his shoulder. "Hey, what code, Sammy?"
"Big brother code," Sam told him with a roll of his eyes. He scowled when Dean pulled the whiskey bottle out of his reach. "You al…always keep your word."
"I'm right here, Sammy." Dean stood. He took a moment to steady himself, drunk as he was, and then pulled Sam off his stool and kept him upright. "Come on. Think we're both pickled enough." Sam's revelation that he'd planned to kill himself rocked him to the very core of his soul, and he closed his eyes briefly fighting back the emotions that were threatening to overwhelm him.. He wanted to scream at him, beat him senseless, anything to let him know how stupid he'd been, but he couldn't. He couldn't yell at Sam about it because he knew… he knew that despair. He'd nearly done the same thing himself a dozen times after Sam had jumped into the Cage. He shuddered at how often he'd stood over the Impala under its tarp and considered driving her off a cliff or into a bridge abutment at a hundred miles an hour. The thought of his little brother contemplating the same thing, feeling that same desperation, nearly brought him to his knees.
"We're pickled." Sam laughed as Dean steered him out of the bar.
"Yeah, we are." Dean slid Sam's arm over his shoulders and his own around his brother's waist, turning them toward their motel down the street. He was glad now they'd decided to walk to the bar. Neither one of them was in a condition to drive as they swayed and wove their way down and across the street. Dean swallowed hard when Sam started tunelessly humming 'Back in Black' while they walked. He fumbled his key in the door when they got there and kicked it shut behind them, then deposited his humming, giggling brother on the far bed.
"Dean?" Sam jerked his head up suddenly as Dean turned to walk away and grabbed hold of the sleeve of his jacket. "Don'…don't go. Ok?"
"What? Sam, just goin' to the bathroom, dude." Dean looked down at him and sighed. The look on Sam's face was serious and clear as day. Sam was very drunk and worried he'd wake up and be alone again. Dean dropped to sit beside him on the bed and put his arm over his shoulders. "I'm right here, Sammy. Not goin' anywhere."
"Promise?" Sam toppled slowly to his side, head landing on the pillow but kept the fingers of his left hand clenched in the hem of Dean's jacket.
"Promise," Dean said softly. He didn't move. He stayed sitting next to Sam and let him hold onto his jacket as he fell asleep. It pulled him too, and, finally, instead of going to his bed, he slid off the bed to sit beside it and let his head rest on the mattress beside Sam's knees. "Not goin' anywhere, little brother. Not anymore….not without you."
"S'good," Sam mumbled sleepily from his pillow.
Dean chuckled as he felt his brother's fingers tangle in the collar of his jacket. "Sush a bitch, Sammy."
"Jerk." Sam grinned and let the spinning bed beneath him and his hold on his brother tumble him off the edge into sleep, no longer alone.