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The night air was cool as the Impala rolled into the parking lot of the dimly lit bar. The soft hum of the engine was accompanied by the faint sound of the music coming from inside the bar. Sam, Dean, and you had just finished up a case where a ghost had been terrorizing a small town. You were ready to unwind from the hunt, and go to sleep, but Dean had other plans. “Come on, Angel. Another case gone successfully, let's celebrate!” He said, before he had dragged you and Sam back into the impala. Now, you guys were at a bar, where Dean would probably pick up some girl.
Dean let out a deep sigh as he parked the car. “Finally, we’re here.” He said. As he got out of the car, he looked at you from over the hood, where you stood coming out from the backseat. “I need a drink. You two might want to get one too.”
You never understood why Dean liked to drink all the time. The thought of getting drunk never appealed to you, and as an angel, you never really experienced it. You’ve only been on Earth for a couple months now, so there are a lot of things you’re still new to.
You glanced over at Sam, but he sent you a gentle smile. “It's okay, don't let Dean make you feel like you have to have a drink, if you don't want to.” At that statement, Dean shouted a little ‘Hey!’. “Just.. you’ll get the idea from just being with us.” Sam finishes.
Dean shoots a grin at you from over his shoulder. “Oh, she’s drinking tonight Sammy. I'm making sure of it.” He says, the excitement in his tone very noticeable.
At that, you hesitated. But you ended up following them anyway. As you walk up the path that heads into the bar, you adjust your leather jacket. It's chilly out here, compared to the temperature it was earlier. The bar sign outside flickers with neon lights, and the low sound of music and buzz of voices are coming from inside.
The bar was exactly what you had expected it to be, but at the same time, it was so entirely new. In your time on Earth, this was your first time actually being in a bar. The smells of fried food, beer, and stale air all mixed together in the dimly lit building.
People were laughing and shouting, and there seemed to be something on the small TV that was near the high top of the bar.
Immediately, a smile creeps onto Dean’s face. “Now this is the kind of place I'm talking about. It's got.. character.” He mutters with satisfaction. Sam shook his head, smiling at his antics. He then looks over to you and your curious stare. “Don't worry, you’ll get pretty used to it.” He reassures you, as the three of you make your way to the booth sitting in the back.
You slid into the right side of the booth beside Sam. His broad shoulders brushed against yours, and you briefly wondered what it would be like to lay your head on them. Dean dropped himself across the table, and took a quick look around the bar.
Soon after, a waitress approaches your table. Her long ponytail sways behind her. She had an easy smile, and her brown eyes glanced over the three of you. Once her gaze falls on you, you can't help but notice how it stays on you for a moment longer.
“What can I get you guys tonight?” She asks, her tone warm with an edge of playfulness.
Not wasting any time, Dean responds. “Whiskey.” He says smoothly, leaning back into the booth a little. “And uh, make it a whiskey for the lady here too.” He finishes, giving you his shit eating grin.
Sam raises an eyebrow at him ordering for you, without even checking to see if you wanted that, but he doesn't say anything. “I’ll just have water please.” He says to the waitress. He sounds polite, but distant at the same time, which is odd.
The waitress looks at you with a smile. “Whiskey, huh?” She says with a soft laugh. “You don't look too sure about that.” She's right, you're just sitting there blinking up at her, but with a quick look at Dean, you see the look on his face, he's waiting for you to say yes. “Yes.. I’ll have one.” You say with a nod. You’ve never drank before, but you trusted Dean, so you just hoped it would end up well.
Sam gives you an almost imperceptible shake of his head, and you catch it out of the corner of your eye. “Take it slow.” He murmurs under his breath, glancing back up at Dean. You find it intriguing how much Sam worries for you, and how he relies on your opinion most of the time.
The waitress gives you a final once over, and smiles. “Alright I’ll bring those right over. A whiskey, a water, and another whiskey for you sweetheart.”
When she walks away, the three of you stare at each other for a moment, before Deangives you a knowing smirk. “Dude, she is totally into you.” He tells you. Your eyes widen slightly, and you raise your eyebrow in confusion. “She is?” You ask, not sure how to interpret his words.
Sam shoots Dean a glare at that comment, but Dean was too caught up to even notice it. “Yeah. One hundred percent, angel.” You turn to Sam, looking for confirmation. “Why would she be interested in me? What makes you say that?” You ask , genuinely confused at the thought of this random woman taking an interest in you.
Sam sighs, then gives you a soft smile. “It's a human thing, she was flirting with you.” You just stare at him. “Flirting?” You repeated, to say you weren't familiar with the term would be an understatement.
Dean leans forward on the table, clearly enjoying seeing you so confused. “Flirting is when someone shows.. You know, interest in another person in a romantic way.” He smiles mischievously, as if he's plotting something very evil. “Look, next time she comes around, ask her if she comes here often.” Sam opens his mouth to say something, but you cut him off. “Is that a way of flirting?” You question. Dean gives you a cheeky smile and two thumbs up in return. You don't quite understand why anyone would want to do this, but you're starting to get the general idea.
When the waitress comes around again with your drinks, you stare at her and prepare to say what Dean has told you to. “Do you come here often?” you ask. You look at Dean, to make sure you said the right thing, but he's holding in a laugh behind his hands. When you look at Sam, he looks like he wants to die of embarrassment.
She looks at you funny, but then replies. “That's..cute. Yes, I do. I kinda work here after all.” She puts down the drinks in front of the three of you, but then she looks you in your eyes. “What about you? You dont look like you belong here, so what brings you to this side of town?” She asks, giving you a sultry look.
“I'm on business.” you reply with a dry tone. You’re not good at this, at all, but you really don't know what else to say.
“Business?” The waitress leans in closer, her voice going lower. “I can't help but wonder what kind of business a girl like you might have around here.” You flush at the close contact, and while you’re looking at her, you miss the way Sam’s gaze hardens. “I'm an angel.” You mutter. Even though your voice is quiet, your tone is completely serious.
She pauses, blinking at you as if trying to decide if you were joking or not. Then, she laughs lightly, as if she’s heard that line a thousand times. “An angel? Right. I’ll believe it when I see your wings. Maybe you've had too much to drink already, huh?” She finishes, then shoots a playful wink at you before moving on back toward the counter.
Dean and Sam both look at you, a smile on their face. Dean snorts with laughter. “Nice one, humans don't exactly believe in angels or anything. Especially not in a place like this.” You stare after the waitress, watching her work efficiently behind the counter, making a group of people’s drinks. “I did not lie though. I am… indeed an angel.”
Sam grins. “Yeah, but humans don't take that kind of stuff seriously. She probably thought you were pulling her leg.” “I did not touch her leg though.” Sam gives you a smile that looks like he's trying to show sympathy for your lack of understanding of human behavior. “It’s a way of speech, angel.” He informs you.
Dean shakes his head. “Nevermind that, let’s drink up!” He shouts - not loud enough to disrupt the bar, but loud enough to add energy to your table - , before drinking his Whiskey in one go. You stare at him incredulously at the act, but you pick up your own. The glass feels heavy in your hands. You take a sip, and the burn as it slid down your throat makes your eyes widen a little. The sensation was strong.
“Oh you big baby, you're fine” Dean tells you, grinning as you coughed lightly, adjusting to the taste of the drink. “It burns a little at first, but it's a whole new experience.” Dean finishes, dragging out his words.
Sam puts his hand on your shoulder, and watches you closely, his brows furrowing with concern. “I think you should take it slow.” he suggests gently, sending a quick glance to Dean, before looking back at you. “You're not used to drinking.”
You did not end up heeding to Sam’s warning. The night went on, and Dean and you had more whiskey, while Sam just sipped on his water. The beverage made your head swim, and soon, it felt like the room was spinning a bit. Your body was warm, but your mind was foggy.
The older Winchester leans back, satisfied with how the night has gone. “You know, I think you might be ready to go out on your own and have a little fun in this world, angel.” Sam rolls his eyes at the statement. “Don’t lie to her Dean, look at her.” Dean just gives a sheepish grin, and shrugs his shoulders at his brother.
You smile at the two weakly, feelings a little out of place, but still comforted by the presence of your friends. Eventually, Sam decides it's time for the three of you to head back to the motel, and get some rest. As you stand up, you feel a bit dizzy. Sam puts his hand on your shoulder, helping you reach the door. “You alright?” He questions.
“I dont know. I'm dizzy, and I feel weird.” You respond, your words slurring a little. Dean claps you on the back. “Your drunk, happens when you drink too much, or too fast.” He informs you.
Sam’s expression tightens, he stays quiet on the drive back. The second you guys step in the motel, Dean takes off his shoes and crashes on one of the beds. Sam on the other hand, sits you on the other bed, and gets a bottle of water from the fridge. “You're not used to it,” He says, passing you the bottle. “That's why it feels so odd.”
You look up at him, unsure. “I feel so light headed. And everything is spinning.” You say under your breath. His hand hovers over your arm, as if he was going to touch you, but then he decides against it, and rests his hand at his side.
After a long pause, he finally speaks again. “You're just probably overwhelmed. You're not used to human feelings.” He replies. You nod your head at that, then lean back so you can rest your head on the soft pillow.
Sam gives you a soft look, then runs his hand over the top of your head. At the contact, you sigh in content. His hand is warm. “Get some rest alright? You'll feel better tomorrow.” He says. You mutter a small ‘Okay’. “Goodnight angel.” His tone is soft, and just hearing his words makes you sleepy. “Night Sammy.” You reply back.
You then fall asleep, not aware of the hangover you’ll feel in the morning.