[He's not even surprised. Mad at your brother and you invite him for a beer. He'd look at that more fondly if not for the fact that it typically means Sam's done something wrong and Dean's trying to coax a normal day back from it.]

I don't know, man. [He turns, sighing exasperatedly, hands still tucked in his pockets.] Some pretty ugly stuff in my door. I don't want some kid wandering in and having to deal with -- door-me.

[But eating's kind of important. Would be nice. He's kind of torn here. And a nap. A nap would be good. Between this and Sarah's probable death and being displaced with a unhappy brother and weird unfinished thing in his blood... kinda makes his bones hurt.]

What, you track down liquor?