Chapter 8 – The Long Way Down

A/N – Again I'm advising that this chapter may contain graphic images and references to self-harm.

I would like to say a big THANK YOU to buttercupgalaxy who has agreed to be my Beta and has helped me so much with this chapter.

I would also like to say thanks to everyone who reviewed – each review overwhelms and inspires me.

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It was as if time stood still for Dean as everything fell into place. God how had he not seen it? How could Sam do something so stupid? Then it came to him like a slap in the face – had their relationship deteriorated so much that his little brother felt it was easier to hurt himself than to talk to him about what was going on?

"Dean, it's not what you think, I just cut my arm, that's all no big deal." Sam said as he tried to pull his arm away from his brother but finding his brother's grip too strong.

"No big deal Sam, your arm is ripped to pieces and you are telling me that it's no big deal – you're joking right?" Dean shouted, he couldn't help himself; he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Dean would you stop exaggerating, it's a few scratches, seriously Bobby I don't know what's gotten into him lately, he just keeps blowing everything out of proportion." Sam said, in a very controlled and unemotional tone, as he looked past Dean to make eye contact with Bobby.

Shocked at the sight of Sam's arm but also understanding that this was a moment that needed to be between the brother's, Bobby realised that he needed to maintain his silence.

"Out of proportion Sam, for Gods sake would you just look at your arm? How can you stand there and tell that there is nothing wrong with you?" Dean was exasperated and slightly unnerved at how unemotional his brother was.

"Because. There. Isn't. God Dean we are just going around in circles. For the last time Dean, there is nothing wrong with me." Sam shouted.

"You're serious aren't you? You're not lying to me, you really believe that there's nothing wrong with you?"

Sam stopped trying to pull his arm free as he watched Dean, unnerved by his reaction. His brother was just standing there, looking at him. Sam saw numerous emotions displayed themselves on his brother's face, hurt, rejection, anger and disappointment. Taking a step back he moved his arm from Dean's grasp and turned away, moving towards the stairs and climbing them as fast as he could.

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Dean couldn't move, he felt totally paralysed and couldn't work out what was wrong with him. He had always been a man of action, yet here he was, standing in the middle of the floor watching his brother turn his back on him, lock himself away, the same brother that he had just realised had been hurting himself on purpose.

How could he not have known how bad things were? Then he realised the truth, he did know that things were bad, but he had been too afraid of forcing Sam to talk. He told himself that he was afraid to push Sam away but he knew the real reason was that he was afraid of what Sam might say and even worse that he might not be able to fix it.

Suddenly he was finding it hard to breath, by ignoring the fact that Sam wasn't sleeping or eating had he forced his little brother to cut himself. He couldn't breath – how could he have done that to Sam, he was supposed to protect him?

Bobby's hand was on his back and he realised that he was speaking to him, although he was having a hard time hearing him. He felt Bobby pushing him down so that his hands were on his knees as he leaned forward, all the while hearing Bobby mumbling something.

"Take it easy Dean, just breath, deep breaths, come on boy." Bobby said gently, his hand on Dean's back in an effort to calm him. Eventually he calmed, and moved to sit on the couch.

"God Bobby, what have I done?" Dean asked, putting his head in his hands.

"Boy what are you talking about?" Bobby asked, confused.

"You saw Sam's arms Bobby, how could I do that to him, I mean, it's my job to protect him, I…" Bobby cut Dean off.

"You didn't do anything to Sam, he did that himself."

"Didn't I Bobby, I knew he was in a bad way, but instead of getting him to talk about it, I ignored it and hasn't that worked so well for him. God did you see the state of his arm? What am I going to do Bobby?" Dean asked lifting his head and looking at the older hunter.

"You'll do what you always do Dean, you'll get him through it."

"I don't know if I can, it feels like I already lost him." Dean said, returning his head to his hands.

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Sam needed to get out of there; he couldn't bear to see the disappointment in his brother's eyes. What had he done? He was going to loose Dean now, he knew it, had seen it in his brother's face when he realised how weak Sam really was. There father had always known it, known he wasn't as strong as Dean, that's why he had asked Sam so many times "Why can't you be more like your brother?"

Sitting on the bed, tears forming pools in his eyes he sighed. If only his father knew how often he had asked himself the same question. He would give anything to be more like Dean, he had tried he really did but he just wasn't good enough. Everything just seemed to come to Dean so easy, where he had always been so clumsy and awkward.

Now here he was at twenty-two years old, having nightmares, cutting himself and not being able to eat. What use was he to Dean, how could his brother trust him to back him up?

Jessica dying in the same way as their mother had proved one thing to Sam, he had, as he had always believed, killed his mother. Now just by association he had killed Jessica, and it was likely that Dean would be next. The pain of the realisation and the grief that he had been feeling since Jess's death began to overwhelm him and the thoughts of Dean being better off without him began to swirl around his head.

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"Dean, you have got to stop beating yourself up about this, it's not your fault. This has been something that has been building for a while. Sam's life has been turned upside down over night. He lost his girlfriend, the life he wanted and his Dad is missing. There is no way in hell that he was not going to be affected. I'm not excusing what's going on here, all I'm saying is we shouldn't be surprised that he is struggling Dean." Bobby said as he pulled a chair up and sat in front of Dean.

"But Bobby, he's cutting his arms up, not eating, not sleeping – look at him Bobby, he looks like he is dying."

"But he's not Dean, we can get him through this, you're not in this on your own anymore, we are in this together and we'll fix it. I promise you Dean, we will fix it."

"How?" he asked. Looking at Bobby.

"We are going to sit him down and get him to talk about what is going on in that head of his, and we are going to make sure that he starts eating again. We'll deal with the nightmares when they come."

Dean nodded his head, knowing that there was no point in feeling defeated, as that would not help Sam. Standing up he took a deep breath.

"Ok I'm going up to see if I can get him to come down and talk"

"Good. I'll see about putting on something to eat."

Watching as Dean went up the stairs, he knew one thing was for certain, they had to find a way to help the youngest Winchester because if they didn't he feared Dean would be lost forever.

Turning for the kitchen, Bobby was stopped dead in his tracks as he heard Dean shouting.

"Sam, what the hell do you think you are doing?"

Tbc...

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