Ch. 2
Sam didn't know why his family insisted he go on hunts. All he would do was get in the way and cause trouble. It had been three months since he decided to give up his dream of the life that he longed for. The constant flow of death was seriously starting to get to him. While hunting the yellow eyed demon he was able to block out his depression because he knew there was a goal; an end to the fighting. But now it all seemed kind of pointless. Yeah they saved lives but some they were too late to save. John and Dean could both just focus on the positive but every life they couldn't save would eat at Sam constantly, and it was eating him alive.
Sam sometimes didn't even know why he got up in the morning he was constantly tired and achy, anything he did just didn't seem like it would ever be enough. 'Dad and Dean should just drop me off on the side of the road and leave me,' he thought to himself after a particularly bad hunt in which Dean had gotten hurt. His older brother was thrown out a second story window by a spirit. Luckily it had rained recently so the fall hadn't killed him, just left a few bruises. 'If I had been faster then, Dean wouldn't have gotten hurt.' Sam had been in charge of digging up the bones then salting and burning them while his family distracted the spirit.
After a similar hunt in which Dean had been thrown into John and both fell off a flight of stairs Sam had the thought to just end his misery and rid his family of the burden he had become. The thought had scared Sam to no end. He had only thought of committing suicide a twice before in his life. Once while he was a new freshman in college, luckily he had met Jess and she had helped him through it. The next time was after Jess had died. He would have gone through with it too if he didn't know that it would've torn his brother apart. 'But now Dean has Dad,' he rationalized in his head. 'Suck it up Winchester. Boo hoo you don't get to go to school. Big deal,' he told himself.
"Wake up boys," His Dad's voice cut through his musings. Sam sighed as he realized that once again he hadn't been able to get any sleep that night.
"What is it Dad," Dean's sleepy voice cut in.
"A rash of suicides in a small town in Michigan."
"So," Dean questioned.
"So, I think that it might be a depression demon."
"Okay," Dean got up and went about packing his things. "Sammy get up and pack we leave in thirty."
"I'm already packed," Sam mumbled.
"You are?"
"Never unpacked."
"Oh, Okay then."
A half hour later Sam was forced to roll out of bed and drag himself and his stuff to the car where he once again folded his body to fit into the small space. 'Maybe that's why I've been so achy,' he thought.
Several hours later while stopping for gas Dean decided let John drive and climbed into the passenger's seat. He turned around to look at his little brother. "Sammy you okay back there."
"I'm fine Dean."
"If you say so," Dean shrugged. 'What's wrong with Sammy,' he wondered.