DISCLAIMER

Supernatural is mine. Nordstrom's mine, although I got some of his powers from a Smallville in which a football coach could burn his victims just by touching them. Story deals with cutting which I only know about from watching "Higher Ground" and a movie called "Secret Cutting".

By the time they got back to the motel room, Sam was groaning with pain.

"Sammy, what happened?" Dean asked worriedly.

"Burned me. Just by touching me," Sam gasped. "And it's Sam," he continued.

"Let me see the damage," Dean demanded, starting pull up his left sleeve.

"No," Sam said pulling away. If Dean saw his scars, he'd freak. He wouldn't understand.

"Sam, I have to see," Dean insisted.

"No, I'll take care of it myself," Sam stated. The older Winchester was confused. What was his brother hiding?

"Sammy, let me see," Dean growled. He yanked his brother's shirt sleeve up. His jaw dropped.

"What the---did you do this to yourself?" he demanded. The look on Sam's face was all the answer he needed. "Why? Would you be so stupid?" Dean questioned. I don't believe this! Why would he be so stupid? he wondered.

"Shut up," Sam growled. With that, he broke free from Dean and rushed to his bag.

"Sammy! Sammy, don't!" Dean exclaimed. He dashed to his brother's side, only to be shoved back. Sam grabbed the knife and started to strike.

"Sam Winchester, don't you dare!" a voice cried. Both boys turned around to see a woman with blond hair and hazel eyes.

"Jess," Sam said thickly. His throat got tight and he sniffled. Man, he missed her so much!

"Why Sam? Why are you cutting again?" Jessica asked.

"'Again'? You've done this before?" Dean demanded. Sam laughed bitterly.

"You are stupid, Dean! You're so stupid! You didn't even know that I've been cutting since I was twelve!" Sam screamed. He could feel the tears coming and tried to will them away, but to no avail.

"What? That long? Why?" Dean asked furiously.

"'Cuz you never talk to me!" Sam screamed again, tears streaming down his face. "You and Dad---never talk---about anything! You just shove it all down and pretend nothing's wrong! Well, I can't do that, Dean! I can't pretend I'm made of stone!" he continued.

"Sam, I---" Dean began to say.

"And after what happened in the Asylum---" Sam continued.

"Hey, I told, we're good," Dean interrupted. He didn't want to get into a chick-flick moment. It was over and done with.

"See? That's exactly what I'm talking about!" Sam exclaimed. "You won't talk about it. Even though it's perfectly clear that I want to. You just shove it aside," he stated.

"That gives you no right to hurt yourself," Dean retorted.

"It's the only way I can make the pain go away. I cut...and it all leaks out. And I don't have to hold it in anymore," Sam told him. Dean's throat muscles constricted and he could feel something wet touch his eyelids. Oh, Sammy. I'm so sorry. I had no idea, he thought.

"It's like---I have all this stuff inside, and I don't know what else to do with it. So I cut, and it's okay again. I don't have to think about stuff that's my fault," Sam continued.

"What happened at the asylum wasn't your fault. I know that wasn't you, man," Dean stated in a choked voice.

"I tried to stop, but I couldn't. He was too strong," Sam confessed.

"Dude, I know that. That's why I said we were fine. I mean, I knew you had issues, but you would never willingly hurt me," Dean told him.

"Sam, if you need to talk, make him listen. Don't just---" Jess began.

"Why are you even helping me?" Sam interrupted. "You should hate me," he said.

"What?" Jess asked.

"I got you killed," Sam said.

"Don't you dare blame yourself for that, Sam Winchester," Jess responded angrily.

"I dreamt it and I did nothing. So it was my fault. I killed you," Sam continued.

"Listen to me, it wasn't your fault. I don't care what any spirit says. Even if you had told me, you probably couldn't have stopped it. So if you're gonna blame anything, you blame the thing that killed me," Jess told him.

"Hey, that punch offer is still open," Dean joked thickly. Sam gave a sobbing laugh.

"Man, it feels so good to get all this out," he confessed. Jess turned to Dean.

"Take care of him. And for Pete's sake, talk to him when the situation arises!" she scolded lightly. Then, she disappeared.

"Jess," Sam whispered. Emotionally drained, he sank to a sitting position on the floor.

"So, how'd she found out?" Dean wondered, sitting next to him.

"She walked in on me. She got me into therapy, and I learned to talk about what I was feeling, instead of cutting. I was---I was finally healthy," Sam answered.

"And I caused you to back-peddle," Dean realized.

"Dean---" Sam began to say.

"No, it's true. But I won't ignore your need to talk again," Dean promised. Sam sniffled and Dean gave him a half hug. And the two just sat there, thinking.