This was it. It would all be over within moments. This thing that you called life would be over so quickly. And that's just how you wanted it.

You sat on your bed, legs crossed. There sat a razor and a heartfelt note in front of you. Sam and Dean were out at the bar, so no one would hear you or walk in on you. The bunker was a big place, anyway. You were ready.

You thought that being the Winchester's triplet in crime would help you get over the fact that your family was murdered by witches. But it didn't. You had grown depressed and wished everything would just end already. That the world would swallow you whole, never to return. You thought you had deserved it too. All your life, someone would always be there to taunt you and hurt you.

'Life is great. An amazing gift from god.' Bullshit.

You picked up the razor, the sleeve of your shirt pulled up. You held it to your skin, and cut across your arm. Blood soon began to leak out, dripping onto your sheets. You clenched your fist and cut again. And again. And again. Soon you had seven, deep, horizontal cuts across your forearm.

Suddenly, you thought you heard something. You pricked your ears and tried to listen.

Nothing.

You brought the blood covered razor and brought it to your wrist, and cut. Blood gushed out, and you clenched both of your fists. Your toes curled and and you fought back tears. Pain is what you deserved, after all.

You heard another noise. Now you were suspicious. You listened, but there was no sound.

You dragged the razor over your arm again, letting the blood flow out. You took a breath hoping it would be your last...but...

"(naaaaaammmme)! We're back early!" Sam cheerfully yelled up the stairs in the direction of your room.

"Sammy, maybe she's asleep. I don't hear anything." Dean observed.

Sam, please, please, listen to Dean! You screamed inside your head.

"I'll check."

Fuck!

You heard Sam walk closer and closer to the door. He pressed his ear to the door, but didn't open it.

"(name), you awake?"

You said nothing.

You could soon hear him walk farther away. You cut your arm again, but this time, you accidentally let out a small cry of pain. You quickly cover your mouth with your hand.

Please tell me he didn't hear that...

"(name)? Are you okay?"

"Sam, she's probably just sleep talkin'. I'm off to bed." You could hear Dean yawn and walk downstairs to his room.

"(name)?" He sounded worried.

You cut again, but this time you couldn't hold back a sob.

"(name)! Are you okay?" Sam jostled the handle, but it was locked.

"(name), I'm coming!" He messed with the handle again and again, but nothing worked.

Screw it. He thought to himself. He hit the door with his side, and it cracked open.

"(name), I-" Sam was horrified at what he saw. You sat on your bed, blood all over your left arm and your sheets. Cuts covered your arm and you held a razor in your right hand. You had tears going down your cheeks. He rushed over to you.

"(NAME)! Wh-wh-what did you do?!" He sat next you and held you close to his chest. You dropped the razor, and sobbed into his chest. It shattered his heart to pieces, seeing you like this. He hugged you tight. He picked up the razor and set it on your bedside table. He knew why you did this. He was scared this might happen, and his world tipped upside down when he saw that his worst nightmare came true.

He pulled away, and gingerly held your arm.

"(name)...I'm so sorry you feel this way. Nobody should ever feel this horrible. Ever. And I'm sorry that you thought you were so alone." A tear went down his cheek. And another. And another. Soon, multiple tears had washed away some of the blood that was on your arm.

Your chin quivered. Sam was such a strong man, and you had brought him to tears. It hurt you even more than the cuts had. He looked up at you, then kissed you on your forehead. You could feel his body quiver and shake.

"I'm gonna go get the first aid kit. I'll be right back." He weakly smiled and walked out of the room.

When he went into the bathroom, he closed the door. He knew he was out of earshot. He leaned on the sink, and began to sob. Tears dripped into the sink. The love of his life was harming herself in ways that terrified him. If only he told her sooner...that way she would know that someone needed her.

And all of this wouldn't have happened.

He wiped his face with a towel, and grabbed the kit. He walked out of the bathroom, and back into your room.

He sat back next to you, and began to clean your cuts. Then he bandaged them and wrapped them up in gauze.

"Thanks Sam..." You said. He took your bandaged arm and kissed it, though it was layered by bandages.

"No problem." He forced a smile.

"I don't want you to be alone tonight, so I want you to stay with me in my room tonight. 'Kay?" he said.

"Okay." He took your unharmed arm and led you to his room. He sat on one side of his bed and patted the spot next to him. You took off your shoes and lay next to him. He turned off the lamp.

"Goodnight."

"Night." You say weakly." He wrapped his arms around you and held you close again. It made your heart flutter. You had always loved Sam. You fell asleep.

*time skip*

Sam awoke to the sound of you sobbing. You were curled up, but no longer being held in his arms. You were shaking as well.

"(name)? Hey...hey, it's okay." He pulled you back into his strong arms. You pressed yourself against him and wept. He ran his fingers through you hair, gently.

"Don't worry, angel...I won't let you fly away." He whispered.

"I love you, Sam."

"I love you too, my angel."