This my favorite chapter of this entire story. Actually it's one of my favorite chapters I've ever written. Not quite sure why but it was just so enjoyable to write. Hopefully you like it all as much as me!

On that note, thanks to my wonderful readers and please please REVIEW!

Warnings: Self harm, swearing and bullying
Disclaimer: See chapter 1
Beta: Little Miss Artist
Word count: 2,300
Chapter: 11/21
Next Update: Saturday

Textus

Chapter 11: Destroyed Memories

Sam was nearly done his book by the time they left. Sam hastily stowed his book away on the right shelf and unlocked the door. He felt bad about leaving it unlocked, but he couldn't lock it from the outside, and really, what could happen in a library?

Sam stepped out into the bitter air. It was almost dark.

He was going to be in so much trouble.

He took off running, but was forced to slow down by a sharp pain in his chest. His wrist didn't hurt as much anymore but the bruises on his chest and his cracked rib often flared in pain if he moved too much or too fast.

Sam rounded the bend at the top of the hill and the house came into view. The living room light was on and a shadow was passing back and forth. Sam cringed. If Dean was pacing he was in more trouble than he thought.

He rushed up to the door and quickly pushed it open.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I got caught up," he said hurriedly as he stepped in and kicked off his shoes.

"Sam!" Dean shouted angrily as he stormed in.

"Sorry, sorry," he said quickly.

"Where the hell have you been?" it was said with such anger that Sam actually stopped in the middle of sliding his jacket off.

"The library," he said simply.

"Oh really? Yeah, well I looked it up online and they closed almost two hours ago!"

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Sam rushed, trying to think of an excuse.

"Did you know that I had a date tonight? But Dad went to a bar and he told me I wasn't allowed to leave the house until you came back! I had to cancel my date, because you were off doing God-knows-what!"

Sam winced. Though he did have to admire his brother's dedication. If it was him he would have just disobeyed John and left.

"Did you think I wouldn't be worried ? What was I supposed to do, Sam? Do you have any idea what kind of position you put me in? I couldn't leave in case you came home and I had no idea where you were. Dad has the 'pala anyway so I couldn't exactly go searching the streets! I was afraid to call the cops because we don't need them looking into us and I had Dad on my back about staying until you came home," Dean ranted on, showing no sign of stopping.

"I know, I'm sorry." He felt like a broken record, repeating the same apologies over and over again. "I lost track of time! I went to the…the…" but Dean saved him from having to think up an excuse.

"You know what? I don't want to hear it, Sam! I'm gonna go get a drink or something and you can blabber all the excuses you want to Dad when he comes-a-calling," Dean growled. He slipped on his shoes and grabbed his jacket then stepped out into the dark night without a single backward glance.

The slam of the door echoed around the now eerily quiet kitchen.

Sam just stared at the door with his mouth hanging open. Had that really just happened? Or was Sam in the middle of a very weird dream?

Frustration roared up in Sam. It wasn't his fault! What was he supposed to do? Go out there and get the shit beat out of him? Besides, Dean didn't even give him a chance to explain! What if he had had a good, legit reason? What if he had been beaten up in an alleyway and only just managed to stumble home? What if he was seriously hurt? What if he was dying right now while Dean was off drinking away his problems? It would serve Dean right, Sam though savagely. Who the hell was he to be scolding Sam about being late when he himself got home late all the time? It would serve him right if he got home and found out his little brother died because of his own frustration-caused inattentiveness. Sam almost considered sprawling out on the couch and waiting for Dean to get home then showing all of his injuries and claiming to have gotten them that night. Dean would be on his knees begging for forgiveness. But that's always how it was with Dean, wasn't it? He never thought before acting, always assuming there'd be a chance to make up for it later. Well maybe Sam wasn't hurt this time, but that didn't mean he'd never be. One day it was going to catch up to Dean and someone was going to have to pay for it.

Sam stormed down the hall, rage at his hypocritical older brother multiplying with every step. He threw his door open so hard the knob made a dent in the wall. Sam stormed over to his duffle and ripped his sketchpad out. He threw it onto the bed and flipped open to one of the first pages.

It was a drawing Sam had made a few years ago. It was based off a photo John had taken on Sam's tenth birthday. Dean stood next to Sam with his arm tossed casually over his little brother's shoulder. Both of them were wearing crappy, dollar store party hats. The cone shaped, polka dotted ones that had a few small pieces of sparkly ribbon coming out of the top. Sam was looking down a bit in embarrassment, though his eyes were on the camera. But Dean, Dean had his shit-eating grin plastered on his face with his eyes alight with joy. The drawing was one of Sam's favorite. He only had two drawings of Dean and him together. Mostly because they didn't take pictures and without a picture, he couldn't see himself therefore couldn't usually accurately draw himself.

Sam stared at the Dean in the picture for several minutes, taking in every tiny detail that he had spent so much time trying to draw right. Where had that Dean gone? Because he sure as hell wasn't the Dean who was yelling at him earlier without even listening to Sam's excuses. They both knew John would just drop the topic when he saw Sam was back and pretend it'd never happened. John was the kind of person, who if they didn't get the chance to yell at you immediately, then they'd rather not drag it up again. So there was no chance he be able to explain to anyone.

Sam ripped the paper from the pad and held it up close to his face for a minute. Feeling a stab of rage he brought his other hand up and grabbed onto the other corner. And just like that, Sam ripped the fruits of his labor into pieces. The result of hours of drawing, of staring at the original picture memorizing details, was torn into a small pile of pieces in a matter of seconds.

Then he stood up and glared around the room. He had to…to do something…anything.

And suddenly it hit Sam. He knew exactly what he needed to do. He reached down in between the mattresses and pulled out the silver knife. This time he'd do it right, no hiding in his room with tissues. He walked to the bathroom and held his wrist over the sink. The silver dug into his skin and crimson blood dripped onto the white porcelain then slide gracefully down to the drain.

It was beautiful and mesmerizing and…holy crap was that the door?

The knife crashed to the floor. Sam ripped toilet paper off and messily wrapped it around his wrist. He turned on the faucet and let it wash the blood down the drain. He threw the knife under the sink and dashed out into the hall, nearly running into Dean. Sam casually put his left wrist behind his back.

Sam looked up into the emerald eyes so like his own. And he saw regret and sorrow but not a single flicker of anger or hate. And just like that every single awful emotion in Sam fled.

"Sam…"

"Dean…"

"I'm…

"Yeah, me too."

"So…all good?"

"Yeah."

"Okay, then…night."

"Night."

And with that tiny conversation consisting solely of fragmented words, the tension between them was over. It was how they always did it. The conversation could have been a big chick-flick moment, but that wasn't how the Winchesters rolled, well at least not Dean and John. So instead it was half-ass apologies and broken sentences.

Dean turned and slipped into his room leaving Sam standing alone in the hallway. He slowly turned and entered his own room. He stopped when he saw the ripped up remains of the photo.

How could he have thought such awful things of his brother? His brother who would do anything for him!

And before he knew what he was doing, tears were leaking out of his eyes, slipping down his cheeks. He fell sideways onto the bed and brought his knees up to his chest…God, had it only been that very morning when he had lain in the same exact position? It felt years away.

One of the rules of being a Winchester was don't cry – or more practically, never let anyone hear you crying. So Sam had learned to sob his eyes out without making a single noise. As he did at that moment. The salty tears fell to the pillow without a single noise from Sam himself.

"Why aren't you fighting back, loser?" Mike asked as he threw a punch which landed painfully in the middle of Sam's chest. He couldn't fight back, didn't Mike get that? There was something holding him back, stopping him from defending himself from the torrent of blows.

He wasn't sure where he was. The ground was reddish-brown dirt and there were no trees or foliage at all as far as the eye could see. It was absolutely empty nothingness.

The next punch came from Blondie, forcing him to take a few steps back. Something crumbled behind him. Sam turned to see. A cliff – or the edge of a cliff as it was. There was no bottom, just endless blackness. Well wasn't that just a perfect cliché?

There was a kick to his shin and he fell face-forward with his ankles were hanging off the edge.

Something cold wrapped around his foot and began to pull backwards. Sam scrambled for purchase on the flat ground. Red dirt got stuck under his fingernails as he dug them into the dirt.

His legs were over…

His stomach…

Sam screamed bloody murder as he was slowly dragged over the edge. Mike and his gang were gone somehow, leaving Sam left all alone in the vast emptiness.

"Help! Somebody help!" Sam screamed as loud as he could.

The only thing left above was his arms which were at a right angle with his body. Out of nowhere a hand wrapped around Sam's wrist. He was so surprised he almost jerked backwards and over the edge. He looked up into Dean's emerald eyes.

Dean began to pull him back up but suddenly stopped.

"Dean…what a-are you…" Dean turned his wrist over to show what should have been two thin white lines. Instead, his entire wrist was covered in hundreds of small marks.

"What is this, Sam? What is this?" Dean demanded.

"Dean, I'm sorry, I just…pull me up and I'll explain…" Sam pleaded.

"No, Sam, why would I save a brother who's such a disgrace?" Dean asked like he was asking why two plus two was four.

"Dean, please…"

"Sorry, Sammy, you're just not worth it anymore," Dean said. He let go of Sam's skinny wrist.

"Dean, wait! Dean! DEAN!" Sam shouted as he went over, the edge of the cliff getting further and further away every minute.

Sam jerked up so hard he practically folded himself in half. There were dry tears tracks down his cheeks and his hair was a disastrous mess. One thing was for sure, he wasn't going back to bed that night.

He grabbed a book and flicked on the bedside light, resigned to an entire night spent staring at the tiny words in front of him.

Review Replies:

Cartoon Cow: First off, good luck with your math test (though you'll probably have already taken it by now)! So Sammy managed to get away from the library, but wasn't much better at home I suppose. Anyway thanks and (just so you know) you were first reviewer for this chapter ;)

Gord and V: What did you think of the way I took it? The library wasn't going to be a huge player, more just a way to piss off Dean again. I should probably stop doing that…

1xadzy3dgftw1xLSNx3dg1xMGG: I know right? Normally Sam's all for normal, but now he's had enough! Glad you appreciated a more emotion oriented chapter. Exactly! Dean seems to think this whole protective brother thing is a one way street. But it's not so!

judyann: Aww, thank you! You will get big bro Dean back because I can't keep them at odds. Mostly I just meant he's gonna be a thorn in Sam's side a few more times before things get all cleared up (like this chappy!) Yeah, I got you guys all excited about adding the element of drawing for Sam then I just snatched it right away! Evil me :)

OutTonightAndForever: Don't worry, you're not the only one who's gotten behind on chapters. This was the first time I had a story entirely written beforehand so I've never updated this quickly before! Good to know you didn't stop reading. Did you enjoy another intense chapter? Unfortunately one side of Sam is starting to win that war and it's not the good side!

Sammy4evacausehesawesome: Love the name, just had to get that out there. Sam will eventually tell, but most likely not in the way you're expecting! What can I say, I like surprises! And yes, Dean will be kick some serious ass. :)

I'm no lady: Oh yes, there was a TON of planning that went into this story. I intentionally wrote it all ahead of time so I could go back and add other little plot lines and twists. Glad you like the angst/love balance. It bothers me when it's so chick-flicky all the time that it's unrealistic, but on the other hand, reading something that's entirely angst fest can be kind of depressing. It will indeed be a bit before John or Dean notice a problem and it's not going to happen in a way you would expect. Thank you for coming to my defense and I'm sorry to hear that someone manipulated your story like that :( I do know what you mean though. When someone makes a suggestion and it seems like a good idea so you feel obligated to work it in even if it totally changes the plot line because it was a good idea. ~Fuzzie (I so love that nickname)

Supernaturalrenegade: I completely understand, I've had to do that a few times myself. I'm going to admit I thought people would find that chapter boring which is mostly why I put the filler note at the top, so I'm quite glad you (along with quite a lot of others) said they enjoyed it! Yeah it's that time where you seriously just wish you were invisible! And John and Dean aren't helping! Hit the nail right on the head with the worse before better part.

Hummingfox: First – love your penname, I'm not quite sure why but I just adore it! I sent Sam your hug :) John isn't gonna play that much of a role in the final thing because frankly, I don't really like him or writing his character. It is easy to fall into this rough stuff. It's like a self-fulfilling prophecy almost. Once you start then everything just seems worse which makes you want to do it more. Anyway thanks for reviewing!

MysteryMadchen: I must say I enjoyed reading through your billion reviews this morning. Though rest assured you're not the only one who got behind. They'll find out soon, we're coming closer and closer to the climax of the story. Sam may end up in the hospital but not in the way you expect ;)

where the wind blows, Sparkiebunny, sarah: Thank you all, you guys are so awesome!