Ever since you were a teenager, you've been contemplating the end. Your life wasn't miserable, but you felt miserable. You always felt stressed even if there was nothing to stress you out, and when you weren't stressed, you felt guilty. Guilty for no reason. Sometimes, you felt guilty for sleeping. You had also been bullied for most of your life, and your eidetic memory kept you from forgetting any bad interactions you've ever had.

For the longest time, you thought that death was a better option for you. However, you were always too cowardly to do anything about it. You were never a cutter either, but you had extremely low self-esteem and damning thoughts of yourself to make up for it.

Sitting in the back of the Impala, you read and old and tattered book with a flashlight. The case you were investigating had been particularly tiring, and you still hadn't gotten to the bottom of why so many people had been dropping like flies. Dean was skeptical of the case at first, but after finding out that most of the deaths had been caused by mysterious overdoses, he quickly agreed to continue investigating.

Over the past two years that you had spent with Sam and Dean, you learned to look farther into things that seemed normal. Thanks to your eidetic memory, you were able to retain information from past cases and things often got solved a lot faster. Sometimes, you could even remember Sam's research even when it was on his laptop from across the room where you were sitting, and the time you saw it was three days previous.

Sighing, you leaned back on the leather padding of the back seat, kicking off your boots and lying down, spreading your legs across the leather cushions. The legroom was why you never called shotgun, even if you wanted to hold hands with Dean as he drove down the often gloomy, winding roads.

Most car rides were silent nowadays, Sam either sleeping or doing research, Dean concentrating on driving, and you reading. The silence never bothered you though, as you often felt closer with the boys when you weren't talking. You still, however, enjoyed a warm smile and a cute 'hey' from Dean when you both looked into the rearview mirror at the same time.

It was nice to have Dean in your life, especially since he was understanding and sweet. He never accused you of overreacting, or saying that you did what you did because you wanted attention. He did so much to help you out of your shell and often asked questions for you or ordered food for you at a restaurant.

You guessed that he sort of knew what you were going through, considering all of the crap that he and Sam went through in the past. Sam was there for you too, but your relationship with Dean is what made you confide in the older brother more.

~

Finally arriving in South Dakota, Dean pulled into the parking lot of a cozy motel. You had woken up Sam as Dean went to grab the keys to your room. You were certainly ready for some real sleep, considering how high the moon was in the sky. As everyone grabbed their small travel bags from the trunk, you walked to the edge of the parking lot, looking out into the forest. You heard that most of it was going to be cut down to make room for construction, and it made your heart sink.

From the forest's edge, you thought you saw a glimpse of something flashing out of the darkness, as if something was watching you. You dismissed it, eyeing the convenience store / pharmacy that was glowing in the night across the street.

Thoughts you had been repressing for the past two years seemed to flood back into your head once you laid eyes on the bright sign. It all seemed so easy as you stood there.

Considering some of the research you had done recently, you and the boys had come across spirits of people that had recently seemed to commit suicide, and you had to go over all of the potential CoDs. Three out of the five deaths that you had looked into were caused by a painkiller overdose, and witnesses said that the people overdosed on a normal amount of pills.

The case left similar thoughts flowing through your head. It started again just after you entered town, but you dismissed the thought that any of it could be suspicious. Perhaps you were still too cowardly to try anything, and you felt a pang of guilt when you saw Dean smiling at you, waving for you to come inside.

You loved Dean. You loved him so much, and you hated to let him down, but you knew that he could do better, you weren't stupid. Dean could get any girl that he wanted. He could move on. He didn't need you.

As soon as everyone was comfortable in the motel room, you grabbed a few scraps of loose change. It was around ten bucks, so you had a bit to spend if you went to the pharmacy across the road. Perhaps it was for the best. Perhaps you should go through with it….

"I've got a headache, so I'm gonna go grab something from the pharmacy. Be right back," you announce, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you before Dean and Sam could say anything.

Strolling into the pharmacy, you weaved through the aisles, grabbing the bottle of Tylenol as you went through the non-prescriptive drug area. You also grabbed a bag of Fuzzy Peaches for Dean, and a pen. As you approached the cash register, the cashier looked you up and down.

"Evenin', sport," he said, grabbing the three items to scan them. You looked the man over. He was scruffy and covered in dirt, as if he had been rolling around in the forest for the past few hours. You dismissed it, most of the people you've seen in this state looked that way. However, what captivated you were his honey eyes, they were bright and looked as if they were glowing.

"Hi," you whisper, quickly looking somewhere else to avoid eye contact with him. The man sighed as he gripped your bottle of medication.

"Lotta people buying these in the past few days," he nonchalantly mentioned. "$8.50, please."

You didn't reply, but you handed him the money, grabbed your things, and left.

The guys were mostly asleep when you got in, and they only groaned in greeting. Shrugging, you left the bag of candy on the nightstand in between the two beds and took Sam's notepad, retreating to the bathroom and locking the door.

You leaned over the sink, tapping the end of the pen to your lip. If Dean were to come in and find you dead on the floor, you did need to give him a little bit of context, and a goodbye. You thought that you owed it to him to at least say something.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Your eyes were already red with uncried tears. You hated yourself. The way you looked, the way you acted, how you remembered every push, punch, and word any bully has ever said to you. You remembered every ghost, demon, witch, and werewolf you've ever fought and retained sympathy for them. It would be better to forget after a while, since the end of their life meant that many others would continue theirs. But you couldn't. You were never able to forget anything. Not unless you swallowed the Tylenol and ended it.

You touched the notepad with the tip of your pen. You had only written 'Dean,' at the top, and couldn't think to write anything else. You didn't know what to say in that note, because Dean would most likely blame himself even if you told him not to. You could request to be salted and burned, but they would do it anyway. Thoughts were spinning through your head and finally you brought the ink to paper.

"Dean,

I'm sorry.

I don't know how else to say it. All I want you to do is not to worry, and to forget about me. I don't deserve you or Sam. Not for a minute, and you never deserved to carry me around like a burden. Thanks for doing everything you have for me, and know that I am still grateful for it.

I'll miss you, but I hope to the Lord above that you won't miss me.

Goodbye.

(y/n)"

Not completely dissatisfied by your note, you eye the plastic cup that stood by the sink and the pills. It was best to get it over and done with before either of the brothers woke up.

Dean woke up with a start. He didn't remember if he had a nightmare or not, but he quickly noticed the beads of sweat on his forehead when he wiped his hand over it. He wanted to turn around and go back to sleep, but something felt amiss.

Sam was doing his best to stay curled up in the couch cot, having insisted that you take the second bed instead of him. Your bed was still empty, which came as a surprise to Dean since you were always the one that slept more than both the brothers combined. He looked forward and saw that the bathroom light was still on.

Dean thought for a moment. It could be nothing. Perhaps you needed to go or get a drink. It was completely normal to get up in the middle of the night to get some water. Still, something didn't sit right with him. Dean sat up and swung his legs over the side of his bed, touching his feet to the cold floor. He noticed the bag of Fuzzy Peaches you left for him on the nightstand, a fond smile pulling at his lips. He would dig into those in the morning.

Dean stood and stretched out, walking up to the bathroom door and leaning against it. He heard your breathing, but not much else. Dean gently knocked on the door.

"You alright in there?" He asked, pressing his ear against the door.

"I'm fine," you say, completely frozen in your tracks. You could just wait until Dean gave up and went back to sleep to take the rest.

"Just having a bit of trouble with getting used to a new bathroom is all," you lie, hoping that it would send Dean back to bed. That twang of guilt flashed through your chest again, causing you to almost heave over the sink. You immediately regretted what you were doing. Your cowardly personality had come to bite you in the ass.

Dean wasn't buying your lie. You had already taken two of the pills, so it was too late to go back now. It was only a matter of time until you took more and waited for the next few hours to die on the bathroom floor. Dean rapped at the door again. "Do you need anything?"

"No, I- I'm alright," you say, your voice starting to stutter. You had only taken two of the pills, a normal dose for 200mg tablets. You were trying to put the bottle under the sink as quietly as you could, but the rattling sound was getting louder as your hands were shaky with anxiety. Your head started to feel fuzzy, and your eyes were starting to fall out of focus.

You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes. It'll be okay. You'll finally be able to forget. Just hold your breath. Count to ten….

1

2

3

4

5

"(y/n)? Are you sure you're okay Come on, I know you're not taking a dump in there. Open up!" Dean was yelling at that point, causing Sam to stir with a groan.

6

7

8

9

10

You dropped to the ground with a startling thud, completely waking Sam up in the process. "Sam! Call Bobby! I'll kick the door down!"

That was the last you heard before you completely blacked out.

~

You woke up to a bright morning shining in through a large window and three men hovering around you. Dean was sitting next to you on the left, Sam was on the right, and Bobby was standing and the foot of your bed.

The three of them let you stir completely before Bobby started talking.

"What were you thinking, (y/n)?" Bobby said, his stern voice quickly breaking through your fatigue. "Letting some monster give you modified pills, letting them manipulate you. Why even think about it in the first place?!"

"I - I… I didn't know. I'm sorry." You whisper, turning away from him, but your guilt wasn't washed away as you met Dean's eyes, his expression even worse than Bobby's. "What was it?" You were almost afraid to ask. Dean said nothing, and his eyes did not move from you.

"A Leshy. They're shapeshifters from Russian folklore. Their defining feature are glowing yellow eyes, visible even when it's in human form. It's been preying on many of the locals here through that pharmacy, since it's close to the logging site. Turns out it's trying to kill off the loggers to protect the forest, and ended up getting you by accident. " Sam explained. "We're trying to find a way to get it to leave the loggers alone, or a way to kill it."

"So what you're saying is they're like shapeshifting Loraxes." You guess, peeling your eyes away from Dean, looking over to your right at Sam. You sat up fully, leaning against the bed's headboard.

"Tall and green ones, yeah." Sam was definitely the most calm out of the three men, but his back was turned to you. You got the message, and didn't ask any more questions.

It felt like forever as Bobby lectured you, saying how stupid of an idea it was to do what you did, how you would actually have been dead if you hadn't been so close to his home, and how you almost ran out of time because Bobby had to dig around his textbooks to find a cure for Leshy poisons.

You avoided eye contact and apologized when you could, trying not to let the tears in your eyes fall. Once you saw how damaged everyone was over last night, you realized how much of a fool you've been. You always knew that Bobby, Sam and Dean loved you to death, but at times you felt like they were pretending. You felt like a burden when you were the last one to figure out the answer in a case. You felt like a burden all the time.

When Bobby and Sam left the room to do more research, you expected Dean to go with them, leaving you alone to wallow in self pity and guilt. However, he stayed put in the chair. You looked down at your hands, watching the lines in your skin blur with uncried tears sitting in your eyes. You didn't want to look at Dean. You could barely face Bobby, let alone the man you loved.

"What were you thinking?" Dean asked, after a long silence. His voice was harsh, yet shaking, as if he had spent all day on the verge of tears. "You just thought that you could leave us behind, to cope with the fact that we found you dead on the floor? That we'd have to burn you? That I'd have to live without you?"

Immediately, you looked back at Dean. The area around his eyes were red, and now he looked much less angry.

"I didn't thin-"

"No, you didn't!" Dean exclaimed. "You thought I didn't care about you. That I'd just go off and fling with some girl at a bar and completely forget about you! I love you, (y/n)! If you died… I would.. I wouldn't know what I'd do."

"Dean, I…" That was when the tears started to spill over the rims of your eyes. "Dean, I'm sorry… I… I..." You shut your eyes and attempted to dry your cheeks with your hands, to no avail. You couldn't sputter out anymore words, trying to wipe away the utter waterworks now with the comforter of the bed.

"Dean…" You manage to sob out, suddenly feeling the mattress buckle under Dean's weight. You felt a strong arm wrap around you, pulling you back down. You scooched over a little bit as Dean had laid down beside you, guiding your body so you could rest your head on his chest.

You looked up at him briefly, a little surprised that he was being intimate, but you welcomed it nonetheless. You knew that Dean was still angry at you, and you didn't want to continue talking. So you spent your time in Dean's arms calming down and relaxing.

You knew the grief you caused, what you could have caused. It would take a long time for everyone to forgive you, and you couldn't blame them. Lying there with Dean made you feel at ease, at least for a moment.

"Don't you ever think of doing that again. Promise me." Dean said, his hold on your shoulder tightening, not enough to bruise you though.

"I promise."