Spoilers for 7x17. References to self injury. Please read and review!
Out of Sight, Out of Mind
The patient lays on his stomach, sound asleep. A foot sticks out from the crumpled blanket that has been carelessly thrown over him. White blanket. White sheets. Dark hair. Unnaturally still, the man looks dead. He's too thin, his skin is too pale, his eyes are sunken. But the thing that stands out the most are the angry red marks decorating his arms. Even though they fill up every inch of the skin, the scars are somehow legible. Bobby. Sam. ellenjo. claireamelia. Balthazar. Rachel. A dozen other names ending in -el, his brothers. He's slashed an X over each and every one of the names.
There's one name that stands out most, written over and over again more times than any other. dean, written small and shallow to fill in the available space. DEAN, carved large and deep. Dean and dean and Dean, scarred over and over again into his arms.
"Who let him do this?"
"I don't know. No one lets sweet little Clarence have sharp objects, Dean. Not even me. Now, let me go, because if someone sees, they will call security."
Sam tucks the blanket around the patient. He fusses over the linens. Pulls the blanket down over the man's foot, because he must be cold. Tugs the blanket up to his friend's chin. Pulls the corner of the blanket out, covering the arms and hands, too. Like a blank piece of paper. White on white on white. Out of sight, out of mind.