Dean didn’t wanna be like John, he never did. Though, when he found himself drinking just like his father with a temper, he ended up finding that he was becoming him.

He wanted to end that cycle from where it came from; alcohol.

Of course, he couldn’t go cold turkey from how much he drank. So, he kept a little flask with him just like before. Whenever he got real bad shakes, cold sweats, headaches, palpitations, or nausea, he drank just a little bit at a time.

Sam was worried. Since Dean doesn’t tell him bull and is as stubborn as one, he thinks it’s alcohol poisoning and even talked to you in private since he knew Dean would blow up in his face for even mentioning his drinking.

He was really, really concerned for Dean. Even though Sam thought it was the alcohol poisoning, you didn’t see him go out as much as he used to so something else might have been up.

Today got really bad though. He had already drank a little bit from his flask and didn’t want to drink anymore. He had to limit himself, he had to just take this addiction by the balls and tough it out like a man..but what man is sweating through his shirt with his hands shaking while sat down at the table of a diner?

He sat there, stiff as a board as he swallowed down thickly with a fake smile as the waitress set down both of your guy’s food. With Sam out interviewing people as a fake F.B.I. agent, you were left with Dean to get some food.

With shaking, trembling hands, he reached forwards and attempted to pick up his burger. His hands felt weak, as if weighed down by a block of concrete to each wrist.

It was so fucking embarrassing. He felt as if everyone was staring at him at this point while his discomfort and anxiety started to sore through the roof with his hand on the side of his head to cover the sweat.

“I’m fine,” he said, his voice a little deeper to act like he was fine when he really wasn’t. Unconfident, green eyes glanced up to you before flitting down to the burger. “Ate a little later today so I ain’t really that hungry.”