A/N: I don't own anything Supernatural… hope you're enjoying this as much as I am! Tried to mix lots of feels into this chapter…

Chapter 2

Sam awoke with a start to perfect silence. He looked guiltily to the clock that read 9:45AM. Shit – they had all slept through Krissy's morning meds. He needed to make a schedule for, like, everything. After he brushed his teeth and threw water on his face he headed over to Gus' room.

He strode in expecting to see her sleeping body on the bed, but instead found a mess of twisted sheets and blankets. His finely tuned ears picked up a sound he recognized but couldn't put his finger on – and it was coming from the bathroom.

The door was slightly ajar so he pushed it open with a semi-angry jolt. "Gus, I told you not to move without Dean or I with you didn't I, he stated, filling the doorway with his frame. Krissy was half leaning on the sink, pale as a ghost with a small smile on her face. He saw how glassy her eye was when she turned to face him. In her good hand she held a pair of scissors and on the floor was a cloud of dark hair surrounding her feet. She had managed to cut off most of her beautiful dark brown hair, except for one spot she couldn't reach. The small smile on her face was a mask of pain that reached up to her glassy eye… Sam stood frozen for a moment, taking it all in and calculating to himself what was happening and what he should do.

He stepped forward slowly, speaking calmly but firmly to her. "Gus, here, I need those scissors from you right now," he ordered. "How the hell did you get yourself out of bed? Sit down before you fall down!" he said, raising his voice. Krissy stared up at him with an eye that didn't see past his face. "Sammy, help me fix my hair," she asked quietly while still holding the scissors. Sam noticed Dean had come in the bathroom and was standing next to him, hands on his temples. Her hair on the floor stuck to the bottoms of his socks and he wanted to throw something. Sam broke out and took action. "Ok, Gus, sit your ass down NOW" he said, taking the scissors from her hand while putting an arm around her waist and setting her on the toilet lid. She looked down and he saw tears leaking from her eyes while she was whispering to herself. Where the hell did she find scissors? WHY would she do this to herself? Gus loved her hair. She loved when he would run his fingers through it when she couldn't sleep. He sat on the floor in front of her and looked up at her. His eyes furrowed and his lips grew tight – he didn't see anything in that face that reflected his girl. He tried to hone in on her whispers but they were just too soft to make out. "Hey Gus, honey, there's no need to cry. Look at me," he urged while placing a hand under her chin. "I'm sorry if I scared you when I yelled, "he said apologetically. He reached up and placed both hands on the sides of her head and spoke directly into her face while Dean rubbed her back in small circles. He carefully adjusted his tone to strong but not loud. "Krissy Chambers Winchester, you look at me right now young lady. NOW. Use your words and tell me what you're saying. I cannot understand that whispering!" Krissy looked at him and he saw that she was there, Gus, there she was! Okay, now they were getting somewhere. She was pale as a sheet as she returned his gaze. Her voice was quiet as she began, but it quickly rose to a high pitched scream…He and Dean heard her quite clearly say, "Cut it off, cut it all off…DO IT please Sammy," she pleaded softly. "He got me by my hair , this fucking hair, and I want it ALL OFF DO YOU HEAR ME"? She made no noise crying, but her shoulders shook and Sam knew it had to be hurting with that broken collar bone. He put his forehead to hers and wiped the tears that were silently trailing down her face before he answered her. "Gus, I want you to try to calm down with me okay? You're gonna make yourself sick. There's no need to shout here, I promise we will help you, honey. Now - in and out with me, one…two…three…that's my good girl," he spoke softly to her, still resting his head to hers. Dean handed her a small glass of water and told her to drink it all down. God, it was killing him. Some asshole was walking the streets and he was handing out glasses of water. He went from wanting to throw something to wanting to kill someone. Still, he kept his cool. Sam lifted her chin and picked up the scissors. Without a second thought he lopped off the remaining long curls from the side of her head. Now she looked like a pixie, even younger than she was. For someone so out of it, she actually did a pretty good job, he thought to himself. He handed the scissors to Dean and they had that creepy silent conversation to remove anything sharp from around her for the time being. They had already planned on doing that, but underestimated her being able to move herself around. She was stubborn and she didn't like to be told what to do. Sam sighed, knowing he had a huge amount of work ahead of him and would probably have Gus fighting him on every turn. "Okay, little pixie, time to get some medicine and food in you. We can clean this mess up after, when we rearrange your room," he said with a small smile but a firm look at her. God, she was so pale and fragile sitting there in his white tee that went down past her knees. He scooped her up to take to the kitchen. She whispered in his ear, "Umm…. I gotta pee again, Sam." "Really?", he thought. He dutifully lifted the lid and put her down on the seat while sliding her panties out of the way. She didn't seem afraid or bothered by him doing this, so he took that as a good sign. He never realized how much one little twerp went to the bathroom until the past few days. He chuckled to himself, big hunter that he was, and knew he would be leaving this part out of his journal for sure.