TW: Smoking and self-harm

I DO NOT OWN SAM OR DEAN

My pace was fast. I had quickly made my excuses to my older brother Dean and had practically ran out of the motel room I was sharing with him and my other older brother Sam. I wanted a cigarette, no, I needed a cigarette, it calmed me down and that is exactly what I needed right now. We were in Florida; its summer heat was draining me, and I wanted nothing more than to leave. We were here on business, despite the typical, run of the mill salt and burn. I was feeling very anxious and stressed even with how easy the case was.

I got like this sometimes, I didn't want to hunt, I didn't want to eat, I didn't even want to even get out of bed. There had been periods where I had not gotten out of bed for weeks and Dean the ever-loving older brother would bring me my favourite food and when Sam lectured him about nutrition he would bring me salads and smoothies that Sam would prepare for me. When I couldn't even feed myself, Sam would sit and force me to eat, refusing to leave without me eating a substantial amount of food. Both Dean and Sam would drag me out of bed and help me take short walks outside once a day. Dean would let me smoke on these walks, Sam wouldn't. When they still occasionally had to leave for hunts, it was the hardest on me, being left alone in the bunker made me go a little crazy. Any progress I would make would be set back by my brother absence. I know it frustrated them both, it was two steps backward with me. They still had to do their job – our job – and I understood that. I needed someone to look after me when I was too depressed to look after myself. They have resolved by taking me with them, which is why I am here with them now. I don't hunt anymore. I stay in the motel and do research but at least I have my brothers close by. Their presence helps me get by and I was getting better. I would get up and get dressed everyday without being told to.

Sometimes I just wanted this feeling to end and it never did. I had considered killing myself in the past, in the darkest moments. This was one of those moments. I couldn't bear it anymore. It wouldn't take much and it would all be over. The feeling of nothing, the chokehold grips it had on me. Its refusal to let go of me no matter how happy I ought to be, because I am with them and they make me feel whole. I guess this feeling started when I was a kid, constantly moving around with Dad and Dean and when Dad died, Dean and Sam would drive the three of us to our next adventure, wherever that was. It wasn't perfect, but it was family. But I grew up and my brain got in the way, Sam told me it was the chemicals in my brain sometimes messed up and it wouldn't work properly, that's why I was like this.

As I neared the corner of the motel I pulled out my half-empty pack of cigarettes and a lighter. As I lit the cigarette and took a drag, I felt the calming sensation run through me. I hadn't had a cigarette in two days, Sam's disapproving eyes stopped me

Then another urge took over me. A more vengeful and an angrier urge. I looked at the cigarette favourably, admiring the gold flecks of heat as I brushed off the ash with the tip of my index finger. I wanted to hurt, I wanted to feel something else other than this nothingness that was all consuming.

I rolled up the sleeve of my flannel shirt and look – admired- the other burns I had accumulated over the years. I had started smoking at 14 and burning myself since 15. my fingers stoked admiringly the raised scars of my old burns. Fuck, this was so twisted. I didn't do it often, although I had been doing it more frequently recently. Once a month because once a fortnight and once a fortnight became once a week.

I needed this so I turned the cigarette on myself and without a second thought and I pressed the burning hot end of the cigarette into the skin on my forearm, just below the elbow. I hissed in pain and quickly pulled the cigarette of my now scarlet red skin. I took a deep breath, hoping that was enough. It wasn't, I needed more pain. I sighed, of course it wasn't enough. I pressed the cigarette back down on my skin, holding it there this time. A sickening pleasure was found in that pain I was feeling. I leant my head back revelling in this feeling. I was in love with this feeling.

Gradually, the euphoria began to wear off and I fell back down to earth. I knew this new feeling of shame, of guilt of what I had just done. It was the endless cycle of this. Well I wanted to feel something and now I did.

I felt uneasy as I made my way back to the hotel room, my fresh burns, now wrapped with the first aid kit that Sam kept in Baby, were still aching and itching. I had wrapped them in gauze, I didn't know how to effectively treat burn marks. I had cleaned the wounds and then went blank, to think I wanted to go to med school… When I was inside the room both of my brothers looked up for a second and probably would have looked away if I hadn't of been acting so odd. I was tugging my sleeves down over my hands so that there was no possible way that they could see the damage I had caused. Deans eyebrows knitted together seeing my self-consciousness, but Sammy was the one to ask "Y/N, are you okay?"

I looked down as I replied, I couldn't help it "Yes I'm fine Sammy"

"You were gone for a long time Y/N" Dean said

"I went for some fresh air" I replied coolly but Sam snorted at that, then muttered something in a low voice.

The burns on my arms were itching me now, demanding that I at least shift the tightly wrapped gauze on my arms. The demanding sensation was over taking my mind as I tried to shift the bandage without drawing the boys attention to it.

But Dean did notice, he stood up his eyes weary of me and began to walk towards me. He looked as though I was about to break when I began to scratch more harshly then, he grabbed my arm, upon touch the burns seared through me. For a moment agony was painted clearly on my face before I was able to compose myself. But it was for long enough that Dean could catch on to my pain. He frowned his brows knitting together again. He looked at your arm, still covered by your sweater, in confusion.

"What's wrong with your arm Y/N?" Dean asked, a slight edge to his tone.

"Nothing's wrong with my arm what wrong with your arm?" I childishly retorted, trying to pull my arm free from his gasp and whimpering slightly when you accidently nudged the incredibly sore burns.

Dean hesitantly began to pull your sleeve up. It didn't take him long to find the cause of my pain. The angry scarlet red marks on my wrist standing out against my skin. I looked away, I couldn't bear to look at Dean as he saw what I had done to myself. I heard him release a sharp breath as he took in the sight before him.

"What in hell is this Y/N" Dean suddenly demanded. His eyes did not move away from the

"I … I …." I stammered, panicking trying my hardest to come up with an answer, any answer. Anything but the truth.

At this point Sam stood up and made his way over to where Dean and I stood in the entry way of our room. Abruptly stopping when he Dean gripping my arm. His eyes assessing the situation and widening in shock when he looked at my arm. "What's that Y/N/N?", his eyes had become transfixed on my burns.

"Tt seems," Dean started, tightly, his breath heavy with anger "that Y/N has been using her smokes to burn herself"

"Y/N…" Sam started, but was unable to finish his sentence. He was in shock; his little sister was not his little sister anymore. He looked at me as though he did not recognise me, his little sisters deepest secret was too dark to be true. It was that that finally cracked me. This. This was what I was afraid the most. I loved my brothers more than anything and the thought of them judging me for this. Suddenly I felt angry, they didn't understand what I am going through. Except they did, they should understand better than anyone.

"Hey, don't make me out to be the only one here who is self-destructive, you are practically drinking yourself to death, how is that any different to this?" anger sliding out with the words as I spoke, my voice rising.

"That's beside the point right now" Dean snapped back at me

"No, it's exactly the point, you don't think it hurts me when I see you drinking? You don't think a part of me dies inside when I see you act like that?" my voice cracking as I tried to contain the words that were pouring out of me. Dean looked taken aback at the notation. His grip on my arm loosened and disappeared as his arm dropped to his side. I stepped away from him, ignoring my yearning for his hand.

Water began to flow freely from my eyes, sobs racked through my chest as my knees hit the floor. Immediately arms were around me, they were Sam's. He was careful not to touch my seared arm. "its ok, its ok, its all going to be okay." He whispered over and over. I had a feeling that he was reminding himself not me. This would never be okay. I would never be okay.

"Sammy I cant do this, I can't do this anymore" I sobbed, my vision was going blurry because of the tears. I was clinging to Sam like a child to a mother. My hand fisted his shirt, I wanted to stay like this forever, but I don't think I was going to be around for another month never mind forever.

"Yes, you can, we will help you. Now we know that this is a problem we can help you control this, so it no longer controls you." He said, his voice hard showing his belief in what he was saying. He truly did believe I could get better.

I wasn't so sure.

That was when Dean asked me the million-dollar question

"Why are you burning yourself with your smokes?"

"I don't know," I said "I feel nothing, or I feel everything and sometimes I get so sick of it. I just want it to stop. This is my way of making it stop"

Dean and Sam exchanged worried looks. If I was so hooked on this feeling it would be hard to get me to stop. Sam spoke hesitantly "Can you try to stop?"

I looked up into his kind, loving eyes and could not deny him the world if that is what he asked of me. "I can try," I say, hesitantly, trying to gage how honest that statement is.

Dean saw the untested truth in that statement "We will be by your side Y/N/N, we won't ever leave you to deal with this on your own ever again. We are family that means we stick together. Right?"

"Right" Sam and I said at the same time. A shaky laugh rippled through me.

"How about we carry on this conversation over a burger, I am starving!" Dean says. I nod and he helps me and Sam up off of the ground and wipes the tears from my cheeks. His small smile of hope warms my heart and gives me, for the first time in a long time a feeling of hope too.

I would live. I would for Dean, for Sam, for Bobby, for everyone we had lost. I would grow up and learn to live again because life was a privilege denied to many.

AFK AND REMEMBER YOU ARE NOT ALONE

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