Disclaimer: I do not receive any profit for my fanfictions, nor do I own Supernatural or Sam and Dean Winchester.
Title: Lose Yourself
Chapter Title: Chapter Two
Set After: Sometime after 'Nightmares', but 'The Benders' quotes and memories will be mixed in later (after it airs next week).
Summary: Dean tried to tell Sam that it wasn't his fault, that he had no part in Jess or their mom dying… Sam didn't believe him. Now the guilt is causing him to go down a road that Dean might not be able to bring him back from. His depression is hitting the brothers fast and hard, and Sam can only be pushed so far before losing himself completely.
Warnings: self-hurt; probably a few typos here and there...
Dean drove up to Gary's Bar and Grill, looking around. Hell, no wonder Sam had thought something was after him… this was a pretty shady place, and the nighttime darkness didn't do it any favors, either. There were people hanging out outside, roaming the parking lots. Dean was a little bit hesitant to leave his Impala with these creeps, so he drove up to the front and honked his horn. Sam walked through the doors, then climbed in the car, looking out his window.
"What the hell are you doing in a place like this?" Dean asked, shaking his head in disbelief as he pulled out of the parking lot.
"You mean without you?" Sam asked, smirking slightly over at his older brother.
"No, I mean in general. Even I wouldn't trust that place with my baby," Dean said, patting the dashboard. "Did you see those punks out checking out the cars?" He shook his head, then looked over at Sam briefly as he started back on the path to their motel. "What made you think something was after you?"
"Shadows," Sam said, staring at the road in front of them. "And I kept getting a really cold feeling… an evil feeling."
"Well, at the moment I think you need to get a bit of sleep. We'll worry about whatever it is in the morning," Dean said, looking over at Sam for a second. "This town doesn't have any history of killings or kidnappings or anything of that sort, so I think it'll be fine if we wait."
Sam nodded slightly, still looking out the front window.
Dean opened his eyes later that night, not knowing what had woken him. He looked over at the clock. It was one in the morning. After taking a quick glance at his brother's bed, then the laptop, he was certain that Sam was up but he wasn't researching.
Dean rubbed his eyes slightly. "Sam?" he called, getting out of bed slowly. Upon hearing sobs coming from the bathroom, he quickly turned towards the door, stepping towards it. He tried opening the door, cursing silently as he realized it was locked. "Sam, open up!" When he got no response Dean groaned in annoyance before backing up slightly, ramming into the door. It opened, and Dean momentarily froze.
Sam was leaning over the sink, sobbing his poor little heart out. There were a couple cuts on his left arm going from his wrist to the middle of his lower arm.
"Sam!" Dean quickly started searching through the drawers in the bathroom. When he found a rag he quickly wetted it down, sticking it on Sam's arm. He then set his brother down on the toilet, his heart racing. Sam was still sobbing, and Dean kneeled down in front of him, rubbing his leg. "Hey, Sam, calm down. Shh… Calm down and tell me what's wrong. Please?"
Sam looked into Dean's eyes, noting the fear and concern that they showed. He knew that he had woken Dean up, but Dean didn't look tired at all. He just looked panicked. Sam took a few deep breaths, calming himself down. He shook his head, looking down at his arm.
"Let me see," Dean said softly, taking the rag off carefully. He cringed slightly when he noticed Sam wince. Inspecting the cuts, he nodded slightly. "They're not too deep. They'll be able to heal without stitches. Which is good, cause Patrick White really can't afford a hospital visit right now." He was, of course, referring to the name on the credit card they were currently using. Dean then looked back up at Sam. "Alright, you better start talking."
Sam looked away from Dean.
Dean sighed, hanging his head low before looking back up at his little brother. "If I let it go for tonight will you talk to me about it in the morning?"
Sam looked over at Dean, looking hesitant. He then nodded.
"Okay, c'mon," Dean said softly, pulling his brother up off the toilet by his good arm. As they walked he didn't let go of him, holding him close. Dean set Sam down on his bed. No, not Sam's bed; Dean's.
Sam looked up at Dean, raising his eyebrows. "Dean, what --?"
"Sam, you're losing blood. Enough of it to have me worried," Dean said, laying down on the bed. "So you're sleeping in my bed so I know you don't die on me or something. Got it?"
"Dying would be kind of the point," Sam muttered, looking down at the ground.
"Sam, either get your ass to sleep or we're not waiting until the morning to talk about this," Dean snapped, closing his eyes.
Sam sighed, nodding. "Fine. But do I really --?"
"Yes." Dean grabbed Sam's shirt, pulling him down on the bed next to him.
Sam opened his eyes slowly, looking around the room the next morning. He felt dizzy, and his head hurt a lot. He groaned, rolling over in the bed, realizing too late that it was a stupid idea. Pain shot up his arm, causing him to cry out.
Dean peaked his head out of the bathroom doorway, watching Sam holding his damaged arm in pain. He smirked slightly, shrugging. "Maybe that will teach you that arms and knives don't mix."
"Shut up," Sam groaned, taking a few deep breaths. He sat up slowly, looking down at his arm. It was all patched up. But, how..?
"Sneaking around has it's advantages. You can fix your brother's arm without him waking up." Dean walked out of the bathroom and sat down on the bed. "Ready to talk?"
"Dean, I just woke up," Sam said, raising his eyebrows at his brother.
Dean pretended to cough, waving his hand in front of his face. "Good point. You need to brush your teeth."
Sam rolled his eyes, though he was smirking slightly. He sat up from the bed, walking over to his bag.
"Why do you want to leave me?"
Sam turned around, his toothbrush in hand. He stared at his brother for a moment, his expression showing the guilt he felt. He knew it had hurt his brother to see him like that the night before, and Sam was so, so sorry for that. Putting his toothbrush back into his bag he sighed, shaking his head. He stood up, then walked over to his brother, sitting back down next to him. "Dean, I…" What was he going to tell him? That he just couldn't take the guilt anymore? Dean would probably find him weak and yell at him again.
"You know, Sam, I was ready and prepared to protect you from all the supernatural creatures we deal with all the time, but I never thought I'd have to learn how to protect you from yourself," Dean said quietly, looking down at the ground. "And what I saw last night…" Dean's eyes shifted to Sam's arm, then his face. "It scared me."
Sam swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat. Dean never admitted that he was scared. Hell, Dean barely was scared. He was always ready to laugh in the face of danger, taking everything head on. The only times Sam had actually seen his brother scared was when Sam himself was in some sort of life threatening danger, but even then Dean didn't admit to it. Sam would've asked why now, out of all times, but it was obvious.
"I'm sorry," Sam whispered, looking away from his brother.
"Sam, you need to talk to me," Dean said forcefully, gently grabbing Sam's head and turning it. "Please."
Sam shook his head, standing up. "We need to find our next gig," he said, walking over to the laptop. "People to save, ghosts to bust."
"Not until you talk to me," Dean said, standing, his arms crossed.
"Dean, people are dying," Sam said, turning to him. "And we're just gonna let that happen? What if a doctor or a firefighter or a cop is getting hurt right now? Their lives are important."
"Not more important than yours!" Dean yelled, tears of anger springing to his eyes. "Now tell me why the hell you tried to kill yourself last night! I'm not screwing around here, Sam! Neither of us are leaving this room until you talk to me!"
Sam watched his brother. He had never seen him so… breakdown-ish. It scared Sam, to be honest. Dean was never one to just wear his heart on his sleeve… he usually kept it tucked protectively inside his pocket.
"I can't," Sam whispered, shaking his head.
"Why the hell not?" Dean growled, narrowing his eyes at his little brother.
"You're probably already ashamed of me enough as it is," Sam said, shaking his head. He sighed, grabbing his toothbrush again and starting towards the bathroom.
Dean caught Sam's upper arm, pulling him towards himself. Dean looked into Sam's eyes, shaking his head. "Do I look ashamed to you?"
Sam looked into Dean's eyes for a few moments, then shook his head. "No, you don't."
"What do I look like?" Dean asked, not moving his hand.
"You look…" Tears came to Sam's own eyes, and he fought them back, taking in a shaky breath. "Worried… scared…"
Dean nodded slightly. "Please talk to me," he begged, his eyes pleading. "Please."
Sam took in another shaky breath, then nodded. "Okay. Just as long as I get my sarcastic, asshole older brother back." He felt relieved when Dean smirked slightly.
"As long as I get my geeky, annoyinglittle brother back," Dean said, shrugging. He let go of Sam's arm. "Deal?"
Sam smirked slightly, shrugging. "What happened to 'No Chick Flick Moments'?"
"That jumped out the window when you put a knife to your arm." Dean crossed his arms, looking a bit annoyed. "Deal?" he repeated.
Sam sighed slightly, nodding. "Deal."
"Good," Dean said, nodding. "Sit. Relax. Speak." He sat down in a chair. "I got all the time in the world."
Sam sighed, taking in a deep breath. This was going to be a long day, he could already tell. He sat down on the bed, facing his brother.
Dean: Hmm…
Haley: What? Care to criticize?
Dean: Yes on the Sam hurting himself, no on the way I handled it.
Haley: Wow, that's a first.
Sam: Seriously…
Dean: Well, this is a complicated and serious issue… There's no room for jokes when your baby brother slits his wrists.
Sam: Dean?
Dean: What?
Sam: I'm not a baby. You can call me your little brother but you can't call me your baby brother. That's as bad as calling me Sammy.
Dean: Get over it, Sammy. You're my baby brother and there's nothing you can do about it. Neither can I, unfortunately.
Sam: Oh, Haha, that's real funny there, Dean.
Dean: Shrug. I thought so.
Haley: Anyway, stay tuned, guys!