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Chapter 1
Dean just sat there in horrified silence as he ran his hands through his hair.
Goddman it! What the hell was Sammy thinking? Cutting himself? Of hurting himself? His whole body was shaking in silent rage. He knew if he confronted Sam again he'd lose his temper. He had to escape, had to breathe. He got up and walked towards the door. Sam, who was sitting on the edge of the bed, stared at him in confusion and fear.
"Dean? Where are you going?"
"Out," came the harsh reply.
"Dean!"
Dean stared at him, and saw the panic in his little brother's eyes. He took deep breaths before he answered.
"I'll be back in a while."
Sam nodded, slightly reassured that his brother wasn't abandoning him.
Dean stormed down the sidewalk as he got into the car. He slamed the door shut. Than he stopped. He couldn't drive. He realized that his body was shaking too hard to drive safely.
Sammy was cutting,
Sam was a cutter.
His own brother, slitting his wrists
Dean shuddered, and swallowed.
"Goddamn it," he cursed. Anger was building inside of him. And not just at Sammy, but at these so called Angels.
If someone like Castiel really had exsisted and gone through the trouble of bringing him out of hell-why the hell didn't he help Sammy during the last four months? Gave him some sort of hope? Told his brother that they were going to save Dean, instead of watching him suffer like this?
Dean scoffed at that. That was probably too small of a problem for the Angels to worry about. They didn't care how depressed his brother was, as long as he did his job, right?
"Bastards," he said softly, half expecting Castiel to appear in the car again. He didn't.
He saw the shadow of Sammy watching him from behind the curtains in their motel room. He sighed and realized he was probably scaring the kid by just parking there.
Shaking his head he turned on the engin and pulled out. He needed to think, and it sure as hell wasn't there.
Sam watched his brother drive off, a tear rolling down his cheek.
He wanted his brother to know, but not like this. He didn't want Dean to find out that way. Who would? He shuddered. If only Dean could understand the pain he went through.
If only he could feel what Sam had felt. Than maybe, just maybe, he might understand why Sam started to cut.
Sam bit his lip. Damn it, Dean took the knife. Now would have been a really good time to cut. Of course that was why Dean took it.
He flinched as the new scar, that still bled, stung him. He took the bandage that Dean made for him off. He stared at it. It was deep, but not deep enough. He wished he could make it deeper.
Suddenly he remembered the knife that Dean kept in one of his bags. Quickly, while shaking, he took it out. And slowly he pressed it against his skin. That felt good, but it needed it to be lower.
Lower was better.
"Sam's doing what?" Bobby's voice came through the other end.
"Yeah, I know, I was just as surprised myself," Dean sighed, rubbing his head. "I said some things, I hit him..."
"You WHAT?!" Bobby shouted the last part. "You hit your brother when he was in that state?"
"He was cutting himself, Bobby!"
"Yeah, and right now is when he needs his brother's support the most! He doesn't need you two fighting, that'll make it worse."
"I know, Bobby, I know."
"I want you to go back there and apologize," Bobby added sternly.
"ME apoligize to HIM?" Dean shouted. "Shouldn't it be the other way around?"
"Damn it Dean, right now he's obviously not thinking too clearly. He needs YOU to be there for him. To let him know everything's gonna be okay. No matter what."
Dean sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"Yeah, you're right Bobby."
"'Course I am," snorted Bobby. "Now go back to your brother, ya idgit."
Dean smiled and hung up.
Calming himself the best he could he slowly drove back to the hotel. But his heart stopped for a moment as he saw an ambulance in front of his motel door....
Mean cliffhanger, I know, but that's to try and encourage reviews! So if you want to find out what happens next, well you know what to do :)