It was strange right now. Matty was off by himself, which really meant that he was with Castiel. He got it. They'd been through a lot recently and they had to do their thing to make sure they were both okay and okay with each other and whatever that even meant. They had to ponder their profound bond. Whatever kind of no homo bullshit Sam was supposed to buy into here, it meant that Matty went off on some hunt alone, assuring Sam he could handle it, and Sam was left behind.

Didn't feel so different from being a child.

He was staying at the bunker, but things were weird there too. Wes and Gunn were weird by definition, as any prophet was bound to be, and Bobby and Aleister, who was still their captive, they were playing cards. Or chatting. Or doing whatever else that he didn't even know how to understand. Doing something where Sam belonged as little as he did with Castiel and Matty right now.

So he went off by himself and ended up in a bar. He hadn't expected to see that familiar hairstyle, the expensive hipster clothes and the narrow frame. He hadn't expected it, but he was a hunter through and through. The moment he recognised the demon that had once been his closest - for a time his only - friend, Sam turned back around. He found the back exit and drew a devil trap right there.

That done, he walked back around. He walked into the bar all the way this time, which meant there was no way he could be missed. He pretended not to notice Harry and he ordered a beer that he wasn't sure he'd end up drinking.