This chapter is really only a filler so sorry if it's not terribly exciting, I promise action next time!

Just wanted to say there will be NO suicide in this story.

Warnings: Self harm, swearing and bullying
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Beta: Little Miss Artist
Word count: 2,100
Chapter: 10/21
Next Update: Thursday

Textus

Chapter 10: Hiding

Morning was a quiet affair. Sam slept in later than usual and once again awoke feeling rested. It was becoming a pleasant habit. Sam stared at the ceiling, tracing over the cracks with his eyes, and mulled over last night.

It had been everything. It had been relief. It had been control. It had been punishment. It hurt more now that he was off of the high that came with it. But the pain was no more than he deserved.

Sam wanted to do it again. Soon. But he'd have to be careful, he couldn't be caught. They wouldn't understand. They would insist he stopped. This, this dangerous habit, was his release.

He needed to get up. Lying there thinking about it would only make him want it more.

Sam pushed himself out of bed and trekked into the kitchen to make himself a bowl of cereal.

He ate alone, John and Dean always slept in on Sundays. Dean could sleep till noon on any day, but John didn't allow it even if Dean didn't have to work.

Afterwards, he returned to his room. The library didn't open until one on Sundays so he had three whole hours to kill. First he figured he draw for a bit then go from there.

Sam pulled open his sketchbook and immediately flipped open to the dog. He stared at it for almost half an hour, but he still couldn't remember the details. It was like a foggy memory from years ago.

Finally after half an hour of staring intently at the dog, Sam finally gave up. He could sit there and search through his memory for hours and he wouldn't be able to remember, at least not that day. And even though he wasn't happy about it, he would just have to accept it for the moment.

He instead turned the page and started something new. Sam visualized the vase on Mrs. Chambers desk in his mind, making sure he could picture every detail. It was rectangular with sharply defined edges. The translucent glass had a purplish tinge to it which highlighted the golden yellow of the three sunflowers sticking out of the top.

Graphite met paper and Sam began to reproduce the image from his mind. He flawlessly traced over the petals and shaded the shadow.

When it was finished it was a near perfect copy, but Sam wasn't enjoying the usual thrill. Drawing something so impeccably usual filled Sam with a sense of satisfaction and fulfillment, but not this time. And he knew why.

Before drawing had been his escape; his chance to get out of the real world and focus completely on something that had nothing to do with hunting. His love of drawing was similar to his love of school. But now, now his escape was something much different.

In a moment of disgust with himself, Sam ripped the paper from his sketchbook and crumpled it into a ball in his hand. He pelted it as hard as he could at the wall.

He rolled onto his side and drew his knees up. For a tall fifteen year old who was all limbs, he could certainly curl into a small ball. His cracked rib gave a small throb of annoyance, but Sam ignored it. He also ignored the few salty tears that escaped his green eyes.

This town was changing everything. Him and Dean fought more in the week they'd been there then they had in the last year total. Everything that had mattered before didn't seem quite as important, schoolwork, drawing, all of it, just seemed a little lower on the priority list.

Without even realizing it, his eyes slipped closed and he slipped into a silent slumber.

"Sam! Lunch!" Sam jerked up and tumbled out of bed and onto the floor. He groaned and set about untangling himself from the cover which had been dragged to the floor with him. He got up and stumbled to the door only to stop again. He was still in his pajamas.

"One minute!" Sam yelled in reply. He quickly stepped out of his pajamas and into a t shirt and jeans. He slipped on a sweatshirt to hide the bandage on his wrist and headed to the kitchen for lunch.

"Where's Dad?" Sam asked as he sat down.

"On the phone with Bobby, talking about some hunt," Dean said as he shoveled food into his mouth.

Dean finished in record time – at least for most teenagers, for Dean is was just average speed for eating a burger – and washed his plate off.

"You still planning on getting your geeky ass down to the library today?" Dean asked nonchalantly as he leaned up against the counter.

"Yeah, I have to do a little research for a history project."

"What's the project about?" Sam almost smirked. He knew Dean didn't give a damn about schoolwork. He was only asking because he knew Sam cared and as childish as it was, a tiny warm fuzzy feeling ignited in his chest at the thought.

"The Reign of Terror."

"The what of what?"

"It was a time during the French Revolution which took place during the 1790's when hundreds of people who were thought to be anti-revolutionaries were executed. It was also the first time the guillotine was used," Sam recited.

"You lost me at 1790's," Dean said simply. "Well, some of us, unlike you nerds, enjoying relaxing on our Sunday afternoons so I'm gonna go grab a beer and plop in front of the TV," Dean said with a smirk. Dean went to leave but seemed to think of something else because he came back. He flipped his chair around and straddled it so he was looking right at Sam.

"Um," Sam said feeling both apprehensive and confused. "Do you need something," he said slowly.

"You know I never got to ask you, what happened to your nose?"

"I told you-"

"No you told me the crap lie you told Dad. What I want is the truth."

"Oh," Sam said slowly. Crap. Sam sighed. This was one fight he wasn't going to win. "Dean, it was just an accident, okay? Please just drop it," Sam pleaded desperately.

"But-"

"No, Dean, it wasn't anything serious. I'd come to you if it was, you know that."

Dean stared him up and down then finally gave a small shake of his head.

"Just promise me you'll come to me if you need help, okay?" Dean said. Sam nodded and Dean sighed. "I'll hold you to that," Dean said before leaving.

Half an hour later Sam walked quickly down the street. He told himself his hurry was merely to get there quickly so he had more time to spend on his project. It most certainly was not because he was afraid of running into Mike. That had absolutely nothing to do with it.

Sam pushed through the glass door entrance to the library. It was one very large room filled with bookshelves, comfy red armchairs, and a few tables.

"Can I help you?" The librarian asked as Sam walked up to the front desk. She had a friendly face with auburn hair that had streaks of grey in it.

"Um, hi, do you have any books about the French Revolution?"

"Yes, right over here," she said getting up and walking to a shelf on the left, "we have our history and geography section. I think you'll find what you're looking for around the 950s," she said while gesturing to the Dewey Decimal numbers along the bottom of the books.

"Thank you," Sam said quietly. She nodded and went back to her desk. Sam pulled several books from the shelf and sat down at one of the tables to busy himself in facts.

No matter how hard he tried, Sam couldn't drag his mind away from the events of last night. It scared him how mesmerized he was by the blood. No one should get relief from causing themselves pain…but then why did he?

Sam lost track of time as he lost himself to the facts and to his own thoughts. Without even realizing it, he filled up two whole pages with notes and went through three various books.

"Excuse me," a soft voice said next to him. He leapt up and whipped around, ready to strike out at his opponent. But his opponent turned out to be a very frightened and very alarmed looking librarian.

"O-oh, sorry, you startled me."

"Y-yes, I can see that," she said rather breathlessly while looking him up and down as though he might be hiding a weapon on him. "Anyway, I just wanted to let you know that we close in fifteen minutes," she said, still eyeing him warily.

"Thank you for telling me," Sam said, completely amazed so much time went by without him realizing it. "Again, I'm sorry for startling you," Sam said earnestly. She nodded before shuffling off, shooting him looks over her shoulder.

Sam sighed and gathered his books up and returned them to their spot on the shelf. He shoved his notes back in his bag and headed for the door. He pushed the glass doors open halfway before quickly retreating back into the library.

Standing around the light post smoking were Mike, Stubble and Blondie.

He couldn't face them, especially while he was still aching from last time. He glanced back to the librarian who was grabbing some things from the desk and sliding them into her bag. He needed a place to hide until they left…there was no chance of leaving the library without them seeing so he'd just have to stay.

Sam dashed to the left and silently jogged down a row of books. He skirted out of the other side and scurried across to the restroom. Leaving the light off, he stepped in and quietly shut the door. He leaned up against the door and waited for the sound of the librarian leaving.

A few minutes later, the sound of her light, pointed shoes could be heard as she walked towards the door. Once he heard the door shut behind her, Sam cautiously stepped out. After checking it was all clear, Sam walked quietly over to the door. They were still there. Well he would just have to wait them out, it's not like he'd told Dean he'd be home at a specific time.

Sam grabbed a book off the shelf and plopped down near the door where he could see them but he was pretty sure they couldn't see them. He opened his book and prepared to wait them out.

Review Replies: Thanks to all!

judyann: Yeah, Sammy's getting into a tough spot. Glad you can feel his feelings, nothing makes a writer happier! Johns only gonna get worse, just warning ya ;) And you're probably not gonna be too happy with Dean either. But you'll just have to wait for that!

supernaturalrenegade: Sammy's begun to dig himself into his dark little hole! It's only gonna get worse and even Dean will get worse before anything gets better. What was the quote again? You probably already told me and I just forgot, I do that a lot. I guess it's a good thing you like hurt Sam because that's what I do best!

1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG: Yeah, Dean must get so frustrated with Sam since he always tries to keep his suffering to himself. But then again that's exactly what Dean does so you can't blame either of them. I appreciate the suggestion, but I do have the ending written (sorry!) I learned the hard way not to put hard boiled eggs into the microwave ;)

Hummingfox: Thanks so much! I'm glad you see/understand Sam's side of it and his reasons for not telling them. There will be much Winchester drama when John and Dean find out, rest assured ;)

I'm no lady: Feel free to call me Fuzzie, I quite like the nickname. Just wanted to say, I do appreciate suggestions though I won't use them unless I really like them and feel that they'll add something to the story. So don't worry, I plan to keep this story 100% my own invention. :) Thank you for coming to my defense though, makes me full all giddy inside!

Gord and V: Well I'm glad I shocked you! Twists are always a nice surprise, in my opinion because they add a whole new element to the story. You're quite right, it's a very long tunnel and no light will be seen for a while.

Smiley Smackdown: I'll give Sammy a hug for you ;) I just love putting Sam through emotional trauma! Thanks for reviewing!

LeighAnnWallace, Sparkiebunny, caz21, sarah, Cartoon Cow: Thanks to all of you wonderful reviewers, I appreciate them so much!