Chapter 7: Dark in my imagination
The next morning was dark and cold. Clouds filled the sky. There weren't any cars to fix down at the auto shop so Dean had the day off, but Sam figured he would've skipped out anyway if that wasn't the case. Fixing cars wasn't exactly the first thing on his brother's mind right now.
The way Dean was hovering all over him was starting to drive him crazy. Earlier he'd gone to the bathroom only to find Dean leaning on the door frame when he came back out. And when he was trying to put some jam on his toast Dean had taken the plastic knife from his hand and proceeded to top Sam's toast himself, before he handed the bread back to him. The knife disappeared after that.
Now dean was watching Sam do his homework from his spot next to Sam on the couch. It was getting really hard to focus on his textbook with Dean anxiously looking at him like he was about to do something very stupid at any moment. It was maddening.
Sam's generic ring tone suddenly filled the tense silence. He quickly grabbed it like it was a lifeline and started for the door.
"Where are you going?" Dean asked standing up. "Who is it?"
"I'm going outside," Sam said. "For some privacy."
Sam aimed a pointed look at Dean telling him to stay put or else.
Sam stepped outside and closed the door behind himself happy to see that Dean had merely gone to the window to keep a watchful eye on him. He could tolerate that for now.
He answered the phone with his back to the front window.
"Hi pastor Jim," Sam said.
"Hey there Sam," Jim replied. "Is everything okay?"
Sam paused for a moment thinking about how he should answer that question.
"Did you tell your family about Stanford already?" Jim said.
Sam sighed.
"Have you talked to my dad? Or Dean?" Sam asked.
"No," Jim replied. "But I had a feeling I should check up on you."
Sam's lips formed a small sad smile at hearing the genuine concern in the other man's voice.
"Last week I... kind of... tried to kill myself," Sam revealed.
There was silence on the other end.
"But I don't remember doing it," Sam quickly added, as if it would dampen the blow.
"Oh Sam," pastor Jim finally said.
Those words seemed to break a dam within Sam and he found himself speaking more than he had in days.
"Dad didn't take the idea of Stanford very well and dean..." Sam swallowed hard. "He didn't even bother waiting to get drunk."
"I can't believe you would want to end it all," Jim said. "That's not you."
Sam let out a derisive laugh.
"That's not what dad and Dean think," Sam said. "They don't really think much of me right now."
"I don't care what they think," Jim said resolutely. I believe in you."
Sam looked over his shoulder and saw dean watching him from between the blinds.
"Dean won't stop watching me," Sam said.
Sam could hear the pastor sigh.
"I bet he's probably driving himself crazy worrying about you," Jim said.
Sam looked at his feet.
"I know," he said. "But I wish he wasn't so quick to believe I would try to kill myself."
"What do you mean?" Jim asked.
"Dean knows how I feel about suicide. He knows me. At least I thought he did," Sam said.
Jim was silent.
"I don't think I did it," Sam said.
"But you just told me..." the pastor trailed off.
Sam ran a hand through his hair in frustration.
"I know what it looked like," Sam admitted. "And I can't remember much of anything that happened. The doctor says that's because I took some heavy duty antidepressants."
"Drugs Sam?" pastor Jim said in disbelief.
"I don't remember taking anything. Honestly."
"So how did you... how were you found?" Jim said choosing his words carefully.
"My arms were slit all the way down to my wrists. Another student found me in the bathrooms. I just remember eating my lunch, then it starts to get fuzzy and then I wake up in the hospital."
Jim seemed to think for a moment.
"Am I right to assume a psychologist was involved in your care?" he said.
"Yeah," Sam answered, "Doctor Callahan."
"What was his assessment?" Jim asked.
"To him I'm an overachieving straight-A student who was devastated to find out he'd be moving once again so close to the end of the school year."
"And you didn't tell him your doubts about your suicide attempt?" Jim asked.
Sam shook his head.
"I wanted out of there as fast as possible. If I told him I didn't think I did it, I figure he would've kept me there longer claiming I was in denial," Sam said. "One of the first things he told me was that I needed to accept what I'd done so that I could move on."
Sam could imagine Jim pacing on the other end of the phone.
"You could be in denial," Jim said cautiously. I mean… if I didn't know you, all the evidence points to a clear suicide attempt."
Sam stayed quiet.
"Did you tell Dean what you just told me?" Jim asked.
"Not exactly," Sam said.
Jim waited for Sam to explain.
"After all Dean said… I just can't…" Sam sighed. "I don't feel like I can talk to him. I can't look him in the eye. He's so unpredictable, happy and normal one moment, then he suffocating me with his over protectiveness.
"These sorts of situations can affect more than just the person trying to commit suicide Sam," Jim said gravely. "People can make choices, but they can't chose the consequences."
Sam looked at the ground.
"Now I'm not saying you did anything wrong Sam, but I want you to keep that in mind," Jim said. "Especially since you just told me that for all intents and purposes, Dean believes you tried to kill yourself."
Sam could hear Jim moving some papers around in the background.
"I would suggest looking up if there are any past suicides or suspicious deaths at the school," Jim said changing the subject. "You could be dealing with a ghost, a vengeful spirit, a curse; it could be anything."
Sam looked up and saw a person walking down the driveway. It was cooper.
"I gotta go," Sam said.
Jim sighed rather dejectedly on the other end of the phone line.
"Don't lose hope Sam. We'll figure this out," he said. "I promise."
"I know," Sam said. "Thanks... for everything."
Sam hung up his phone just as Cooper stopped in front of him.
"Hey Sam," he said. "How are you doing?"
Sam only shrugged.
Cooper was wearing a dark blue hoody with dark jeans. In his arms he carried a small stack of papers. He was bouncing on his feet. Sam almost resented the other boy for his obvious good mood.
"I got all your assignments from today's classes so you don't get behind."
Sam tried to smile politely but it came out as more of a grimace.
"Thanks cooper," Sam said. "I have yesterdays finished stuff. Just let me grab it"
The other teen smiled.
"No problem," he said.
Sam rushed back inside and grabbed his completed assignments. He couldn't believe Cooper was going out of his way to help him. He had been an outright jerk to the other teen. Cooper just seemed to be willing to forgive and forget.
He rushed back outside and hands the stack of papers to Cooper.
"I'll see you tomorrow okay?"
"Sure," Sam replied.
Cooper's kindness was making him reconsider his strict no-friend rule. When he reentered his temporary home, he felt a little lighter.
Sam's good mood didn't last for long. The next day found him sitting in the office of Doctor Callahan. There were numerous official looking certificates on the wall, complete with shiny seals. Books populated a shelf to his left that reached to the ceiling.
A large mahogany desk separated him and the doctor. Several picture frames stood on the desk next to a computer monitor. From his angle Sam couldn't see just what the pictures were of but he figured they probably pictures of the doctor's family.
"How are you today?" the doctor asked, a disarming smile on his face.
Sam shrugged, then remembered how he was trying to avoid further scrutiny from the doctor.
"I'm doing good," he said, trying to sound upbeat, or at least neutral.
Judging by the way the doctor seemed to relax in his seat, Sam figured his response was just what the doctor was looking for.
"Are you practicing the coping mechanisms we talked about?" Dale asked.
Sam nodded.
In truth he hadn't really spent much time thinking about them, letting alone putting them to practice since he didn't see that as a problem. But the doctor didn't need to know that.
"My brother has been a big help," Sam said.
It was a half truth. Sam could tell Dean was trying to help as best he knew how in his own way. But it was also easy to see Dean was having trouble coping with the fact that Sam had supposedly done what he had. Sam knew it was only a matter of time before Dean finally exploded and told him just what was on his mind, but so far Dean had shown a remarkable ability to hold his tongue.
If things were ever going to get back to some semblance of normal, that was going to have to change.
"How is your father handling everything," Dale asked.
Sam shrugged. He wasn't about to lie about anything having to do with his dad. That was one thing he didn't feel like sugar coating.
"He's working more," Sam explained.
The doctor nodded as if that made all the sense in the world.
"Well Sam," Dale said. "Everyone has their own way of dealing with stressful situations. The most we can do is be as understanding as possible."
Sam nodded. This was fast descending into a chick flick moment that he didn't want to have.
"Some people will try to act normal, as if nothing happened," Dale said. "But eventually, they reach a point where that's not possible."
"On the other hand, some people over-react."
Sam nodded once again.
"My brother is always watching me," Sam said. "He's always there."
Dale smiled.
"I bet that can get really annoying," he said with a knowing look.
Sam smirked.
"He can be quite the mother hen," he said. "But I know he means well."
He sighed and looked at his lap. As frustrated as he was with his brother, Sam knew Dean only acted the way he did because he cared. That only made him feel worse about his current situation. How could he even think of leaving when Dean seemed to need him so much? But how could he ever expect to live his own life, if he never left?
Such thoughts almost made him wish his suicide attempt had been successful.
"Sam are you okay?" Dale asked.
Sam quickly looked up and put a sad smile on his face.
"Yeah, I was just thinking about how Dean took away the butter knife when I was trying to put jam on my toast yesterday," Sam said, trying to steer the Doctor away from things he didn't want to talk about.
The doctor nodded.
"Like I said, people cope in different ways," Dale said leaning forward in his chair. "All you can do is be patient while he learns to trust you again."
Sam frowned.
"He most likely sees your suicide as betrayal," Dale said unflinchingly. "It will most likely take time for him to move past that."
Sam wanted to glare at Dale. He wanted to explain how Dean was betraying him, by so easily believing he would try to end his life. But he wisely kept his mouth shut and only nodded in response.
"Stay strong Sam," Dale urged. "Thing can only get better from here on out. You have a bright future ahead to strive for and a brother who very clearly cares for you deeply."
Sam only looked at his hands.
"I'll see you same time next week okay?" Dale said.
Sam nodded and stood up.
"Can you send your brother in here for a quick word" Dale asked.
"Sure," Sam quietly said as he turned to leave.
A few minutes later he was following Dean out of the hospital, into the parking lot to where the Impala was parked. Sam was dying to ask Dean what the doctor wanted to talk with him about, but the look on Dean's face kept him silent.
Dean's lips were set in a firm line. His jaw was clenched and his gaze was steely cold. The silence reigned as they got into the Impala and pulled out of the parking lot. They stopped off at a grocery store and bought some basics to restock their small kitchen. Throughout the trip Dean stayed silent and barely looked at Sam. It was starting to make himself conscious.
When they finally got back to Phoenix, the sun was starting to set.
Sam helped bring in the groceries all the while wondering what had Dean so quiet. He worked up his courage and finally asked, only to be interrupted by a knock at the door.
Dean answered the door to find Cooper waiting on the other side.
"Got your daily delivery of homework," he said cheerfully.
Dean smiled politely, but Sam could tell it was fake in the way his brother's eyes stayed cold and hard.
"Hey Cooper," Dean greeted. "I gotta get our dinner. You wanna stay here for a bit with Sam while I get it?"
Sam wanted to roll his eyes. Of course his brother wasn't about to leave him alone.
"Absolutely!" Cooper exclaimed.
"Great," Dean said. "I'll be back in a flash."
Dean quickly glanced at Sam before he left. Sam didn't quite know what to make of his brother's behavior, so he stopped trying and ushered Cooper inside toward the couch.
"You seem to be doing better," Cooper noted taking a seat.
"Really?" Sam said sounding surprised. "Doesn't feel like it."
He was tired of keeping things to himself. Sure he had Pastor Jim, but it wasn't enough. Usually he could count on Dean when he needed to vent. But since his brother was the subject of said venting, that wasn't an option. The thought of talking to his dad made him want to laugh out loud. All he had was Cooper who was more than willing to go to great lengths to be his friend. With no one else to talk to, Sam figured he didn't have anything lose by accepting his offer.
"I don't know how I would be feeling after... everything... but I know I wouldn't be handling it as well as you," Cooper offered. "You just seem like such a strong person."
The statement was so unexpected Sam laughed.
"That's so far from the truth, I don't know what to say."
Cooper smiled.
"It must be great to have a brother like yours," the other teen said. "He must be a big help."
Sam's smile faded a little.
"Yeah, sometimes too much, sometimes not enough," he said. "Depends."
Cooper looked around at the small studio.
"I don't mean to pry," he started. "But where are your parents? I mean, I see your brother..."
Sam rubbed the back of his neck.
"Well, my mom died when I was baby," he explained. "And my dad works a lot."
Cooper frowned.
"Wouldn't he take some time off after... well you know."
Sam shrugged.
"You'd think," he said. "But he's not exactly very fond of me right now. He thinks I'm a coward for what I supposedly did."
Cooper tilted his head.
"Supposed?" he asked, confused.
"You'll think I'm crazy," Sam said. "But I don't think I tried to kill myself."
Cooper raised his eyebrows.
"I know what I saw," he said. "And it pretty much looked like you didn't mean to leave that bathroom alive."
Now Sam was frowning.
"I was the one who found you," Cooper revealed. For a brief moment he had a haunted look in his eyes. "With all that blood, you had to mean it."
Sam looked at his hands.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," he said trying to inject as much sincerity into his voice as he could.
Cooper put a hand on his shoulder.
"Hey, at least you're still alive, that's all that matters right?" he said.
Sam smiled with a sigh.
"What makes you think you didn't do it though?" Cooper asked.
Sam rubbed his face.
"I don't remember much leading up to it," he said. "But I know wasn't thinking about suicide at all. It never crossed my mind."
Cooper shook hi head.
"But that knife, why would you carry around a knife like that?" he asked.
Sam shrugged.
"I always carry it," Sam said. "It was a birthday gift from my dad."
"It's weird," Cooper said. "People don't carry around fancy knives. They just don't."
"It's a thing in my family," Sam said. "Can't really explain it better than that."
Cooper shook his head.
"Still strange to me," he said, handing Sam over a stack of papers. "I know only know what I saw."
Sam took the papers and sifted through them as he listened to the other teen.
"Don't take this the wrong way," Cooper said. "But are you sure your not just in denial or something?"
Sam put down the paper on the coffee table in front of him and turned to face Cooper.
"I mean, I'm not a psychologist or anything, just a friend who cares," he said quickly. "I just want you to get better so you can come back to school."
Sam sighed.
"And if you won't accept that you did it, I don't think you can really move on from it," he continued. "I mean, there's no way to prove you didn't do it is there?"
Pastor Jim's suggestion to investigate past suicides came forward in his mind. Maybe there was a way to prove it.
"You never know," Sam said. He decided to change the subject.
"So what's have I missed at school?"
The two spent the next half hour or so talking about teenaged nonsense. It was refreshing to Sam, and welcome relief from the serious things he'd been dealing with the past few days. For a little while he got to be normal and that was just fine with him.
Sam's short respite came to an end with the sound of a key at the door. Dean walked in carrying too paper bags with grease stains on the bottom. Looks like dinner was served.
Cooper stood up.
"I guess that's my cue to go," he said with a bright smile.
Sam felt the tension return in the air.
"Are you sure you have to go?" he said, almost pleading for the other teen to stay so he could avoid having to face being alone with Dean for just a little while longer. "I'm sure there's more than enough to go around."
Cooper shook his head.
"As nice as that sounds, I should really be getting home," he said. "Maybe tomorrow."
Sam sighed.
"Okay," he said. "See you then."
"Great!" Cooper smiled at Sam and Dean, then left.
Dean walked into the kitchen and put the paper bags on the table.
"Come and get it," Dean said taking a seat.
Sam internally groaned eyes as he got up from the couch and made his way to the seat across from Dean at the kitchen table.
"You okay?" Sam asked.
After talking with Cooper, he felt much more talkative and able to confront Dean.
Dean shrugged as he took a bite from his juicy burger.
"Why wouldn't I be?" he said, mouth full.
Sam was happy to find Dean had gotten him a salad.
"You were quiet on the way home," Sam said, emptying his bag. "What did the psychologist tell you?"
Dean took another bite.
"Just some nonsense," he said.
Sam raised his eyebrow at Dean as he poured some dressing on his salad.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"He seemed to think I need help dealing with...this situation," Dean answered. "Said you need more freedom."
Sam looked picked at his salad.
"Maybe I do," he said quietly.
Dean lowered his burger and tilted his head.
"Really?" he said with a stern look. "I think too much freedom got you in this situation in the first place. And I think it goes without saying that I'm not the one who needs help."
Now Sam was the one giving the 'really?' look. The gloves were coming off now.
"Yeah, well, those in denial are often those in need of the most help," Sam said.
Dean rolled his eyes and let out a harsh laugh.
"Well then you must be in need of the emergency room," he said. "Didn't you say that you didn't think you tried to kill yourself just a few days ago? I think we all know what happened there."
Sam put down his fork. Suddenly his appetite had just vanished.
"You know what Dean?" he said, steel in his voice. "The doctor's right. You're suffocating me. I get that it's your way to dealing with all of this, but we'll never get any better if you don't find a better way to cope. It's certainly not helping me."
With that Sam stood up and went back to the couch. He grabbed his backpack and pulled out his CD player, angrily stuffing the ear buds into his ears. He grabbed the stack of homework Cooper had given him and got to work.
