As It Was - Dean Winchester

Part 64

Dean's POV

Not often had I had the pleasure of seeing Will drunk. She usually only drinks a beer or two, not liking the concept of slowed reflexes. That, in combination with the fact that she hates crowded places, usually means she only drinks if she really needs the wind-down– usually only in the motel room, if at all. Which was why I was surprised to see her stumbling out of the bar in the town we had been staying at for a few days.

Her hair was parted in her signature braids, but she had forgone her cargo pants in favor of jeans and one of my t-shirts that she seemed to have tied up somehow to show her toned waist.

I shook my head, thinking of the way she had said my name while I packed her into the backseat of the impala with a bottle of water while I tracked down Sam.

That Will had been drinking was my biggest clue as to where I would find him, and I spotted him the moment I walked through the doors to the bar. Doobie Brothers 'Long Train Runnin' was playing over the speakers as approached him.

I threw my hands out, letting them slap down again my sides. "There you are. What are you doing?"

Sammy turned to me, holding a glass of whiskey. He shrugged. "Having a drink."

"It's two in the afternoon, Will is drunk off her ass. You're drinking whiskey?"

"I drink whiskey all the time," he said in a defensive voice.

"No, you don't," I pointed out, trying to figure out what was wrong.

Sam shrugged again. "What's the big deal? You get sloppy in bars, you used to hit on chicks all the time before Will. Why can't I?"

I looked around the bar, noting the one and only woman in there that seemed to be at least mid-forties and was obviously flirting with one of the older patrons."It's kind of slim pickings around here. What's going on with you?"

He shook his head, looking down into his drink. "I tried, Dean," he said.

I stared at him, confused, waiting for an explanation that didn't come. "To do what?"

"To save you."

I sighed, sinking down into the chair next to his. An empty glass still stood on the bar, and I guessed it had belonged to Will. I turned to the bartender, "Can I get a whiskey? Double, neat."

"I'm serious, Dean."

"No, you're drunk."

It wasn't a conversation I wanted to have, but I understood Sammy's need to talk about it. He looked like a wreck. "I mean, where you're going... what you're gonna become..." He scoffed, shaking his head, and I noticed that he was holding back tears. "I can't stop it. Will can't stop it. I'm starting to think maybe even Ruby can't stop it."

At the mention of the demonic blonde, I turned my eyes away, not wanting him to catch on that there was something I wasn't telling him. I had spoken to Ruby – after our last witch case. She had shown up at the parking lot and confirmed that all demons were once souls tortured in hell.

Will had probably already known, considering she didn't even flinch at the information that was thrown at us. But for me and Sammy? We hadn't known until then, and the prospect of becoming a demon...? Then she dropped another bomb; she confirmed that she couldn't save me. I was going to hell no matter what.

"But really," Sammy continued. "The thing is, no one can save you."

"What I've been telling you," I reminded him.

"No, that's not what I mean. I mean, no one can save you, because you don't wanna be saved." Maybe he's right. "I mean, how can you care so little about yourself?"