You and Dean had had a night last night. You’d decided that after a particularly rough hunt with a couple djinn, you wanted to blow off some steam, have a few drinks, maybe go back to the motel and have some alone time.

You both got hammered, but in the morning, something had clearly been off with Dean. He couldn’t remember any of the night you two had had. According to you… it was pretty damn fun. You and Dean were together. Had been for 2 years.

“Man, and I missed that?” Dean scowled a little as he reached for the impala keys, fidgeting with them a little and looking at them in a bit of confusion.

“Dean.. it’s the square one..,” you raised your brow at him. You were fairly hungover, a pounding headache creeping in.

“I know that,” Dean grumbled and then you three loaded up in the impala. Sam chimed in from the back.

“So uh.. rough night?” Sam grinned in amusement at the two of you in the front seat, looking worse for wear.

“No, rough morning,” you murmured. “Dean apparently got more drunk than me because he can’t remember a damn thing,” I huffed and shook my head as Dean started the car…. and floored it in the wrong direction. “Dean, what the hell is going on?”

Dean looked utterly confused at himself. “Son of a bitch,” he murmured and looked back at Sam, who just nodded, and the two men switched seats, and you climbed into the back with Dean, obviously concerned.