AN: First fic ever but the most recent episode was just begging me to write this.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Literary-not a single thing

The problem with drinking to forget is you can't control what you forget and what you remember. Dean still remembered that his brother was walking around without a soul, that his grandfather had sold them out to the demon that was essentially 'the king of hell'. He could not however remember how to open the door to his motel room and he had sent Sam away because quite frankly it scared him that he did not sleep.

I mean really how can you sleep with some freak looking at you sleep.

Finally giving up on the door Dean walked towards where he thought he had parked his baby but apparently he had forgotten that too. Sitting down on the steps leading to some random person's room he closed his eyes, but that just made the darkness spin. He opened his eyes and looked up to the sky and whispered mostly to himself-

"Cas I am sure you're busy and all but we know who pulled Sam out. It was Crowley don't now if it helps your "civil war". See that is appropriate usage of air quotes." Sorry for being such a dick. "If you ever want to share a drink and bitch about dick brothers…" he waved the half empty bottle towards the sky. With slight giggle to himself his world went blank.


Dean felt the sun on his face, carefully opening his eyes expecting to have a massive hangover, but the world was not spinning nor was his stomach doing somersaults. He sat up and looked at the table clock on the side table. Next to the clock were a used glass and his bottle of Jack… completely empty. He knew he did not finish it. He looked around the room, confirming that he was in fact in his room.

"Don't finish the entire bottle next time, Cas you dick"