Dean was sitting in the bunker's kitchen with a bottle of scotch on the table he was sitting at. He had a half empty glass in his hand. Judging by the fact that the bottle was full last night this probably wasn't his first glass.

It was 3 in the morning and he didn't even bother to turn the lights on. He just sat in the darkness with his thoughts.

"Fuck..." He muttered under his breath and downed the glass with one gulp.

He then poured himself another one.