This story is set at the beginning of Season 9, right after Dean got out of Purgatory. Trigger warning for suicide attempt and suicidal thoughts
"You were in Purgatory? For the whole year?" Sam couldn't believe it. He'd spent a whole year believing that his brother was dead. And now he was standing in front of him? This wasn't the first time...but it had to be the last. He couldn't keep losing Dean.
"You know that half your numbers are out of service, right?"
"Yeah, sorry, I didn't get your messages."
"How come?"
"I guess, um...I was just, busy, you know?" Sam averted his eyes. If he could help it, Dean would never find out what had happened to him this past year.
"Hunting?"
"Not exactly."
"What, then?"
"Look, Dean, it doesn't matter."
Dean eyed him suspiciously. "You quit hunting, didn't you?"
"In a way."
"What does that even mean?" Dean raised his voice, and Sam cringed. The last thing he wanted was a fight.
"Look, you were gone, Cas was gone, Bobby was dead...Crowley even shipped off Kevin and Meg to parts unknown."
"So you turned tail on the family business?"
"You mean the family business that got every single member of my family killed?" Sam exploded. "I had no one. Okay? No one. For the first time in my life, I was completely alone." His voice broke, and he had to take a breath. "I didn't exactly have a roadmap. I looked everywhere. I used every resource I had, hit the books a million times...called everyone we know...there were no answers."
"So, what did you do?"
"I fixed up the Impala, and just...drove."
"Hm." Dean looked like he was about to say something else, but Sam stopped him.
"Look, could we just...stop? You're back. I'm back. Can we move on?"
Dean frowned, but nodded. "Let's go through these, shall we?" he gestured toward the box of phones on the table. Sam felt nervous. He hadn't had time to look through all the messages yet, and he wasn't sure how to explain to Dean why he hadn't checked his messages in almost 8 months.
Sam was right to be nervous. He listened as Dean played through messages. Almost every single one of them was from Kevin. The first ones sounded desperate. The kid was calling for help. By the tenth message, however, he sounded like a completely different person. Stronger. The kind of strength that comes from pain.
The guilt was crushing.
"He was our responsibility." Dean said. He didn't yell. In fact, he didn't even raise his voice. He just spoke in that quiet, disappointed tone that was even scarier.
"And you couldn't answer the damn phone." He tossed the cell phone at Sam.
"It-It wasn't like that."
"Oh, it wasn't? Tell me, what was so goddamn important that you left a kid out there on his own?" Now Dean was yelling.
"I was in the hospital." Sam blurted out. "I couldn't get to any of my phones."
Dean blinked. "The hospital. For a year?"
"Only the last eight months. I got out three days ago." Sam muttered. He wasn't gonna tell Dean, but he couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't let his brother think he'd just abandon Kevin.
"You look pretty healthy to me."
"Yeah."
"That's it? 'yeah'?"
"What do you want me to say?"
"An explanation would be nice. What's wrong with you?" He tried to look angry, but Sam saw past it. He could tell that his brother was worried.
"Nothing, I'm fine."
"They don't keep you in a hospital for eight months without a reason."
"I was in the Psych ward." Sam spit the words out as if they were poison. He never wanted to think about that place again, much less talk to Dean about it.
Dean looked shocked. "Dude, how did you let yourself end up there? You know better than to talk about this shit. You had to know you'd get locked up."
"I didn't. I never said anything about demons, angels, monsters..."
"Then how-"
"Can you drop it?" Sam shouted. "I told you where I was, isn't that good enough? I feel bad enough that I wasn't there for Kevin."
"Sammy, what did you do?" Dean asked softly. He set his beer on the table and stepped closer.
"You were gone, Dee. I looked for two months; for you, for Kevin, for anyone...I was out of options."
Realization crossed Dean's face. "You didn't..."
Sam looked away. "I couldn't do it by myself anymore."
Dean sank onto the couch. "Son of a bitch."
Sam was quiet.
"So, how'd you do it? Jump off a building? Slit your wrists? Obviously you didn't go for the headshot."
"Bottle of pills." Sam shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I really don't wanna talk about this."
"No lasting damage, right?"
"Yeah. I'm fine."
"Good. Why'd they keep you for eight months?"
"I kept trying. Every chance I got."
"What the hell?" Dean stood, getting in Sam's face. "You don't just decide to give up!"
"I was done! It was too much, okay? You of all people should know how that feels. I was alone, Dean." Sam angrily wiped tears from his eyes. Dammit. Just when he thought it couldn't get worse, he had to start crying like a girl.
Dean backed down. Were those tears in his brother's eyes? "Well, obviously you got out, so you're better now, right?"
Sam hesitated. "Yeah."
"What?"
"I realized the only way I was gonna succeed was if I left the place and got ahold of a gun. I had to make them think I was getting better."
"Dammit, Sammy..." Dean looked devastated.
"But I'm good now." He said quickly. "You're back, Kevin is alive...or was, a month ago. We've got things to do."
"What if I hadn't come back?" Dean said quietly.
"Doesn't matter. You did."
Dean exhaled sharply, not wanting to imagine coming home only to find Sam dead. Again. He pulled his little brother into a hug. "Don't you ever do that again."
Sam was surprised, but hugged back. "I won't," came his muffled voice.
That would be the first and last time they talked about it, but Sam noticed Dean watch him more closely after that. He was never left alone for long. To anyone else it would be irritating, but having spent a year without his brother, Sam was happy to have Dean looking out for him again.
I suck at endings, sorry. Hope you enjoyed the story, please leave a review :) ALWAYS KEEP FIGHTING.