Shattered

"Jenny, Are you awake?"

I squeeze me eyes tight, my back to Sam, as I lie in the fetal position on my bed wanting to just shut out the world. However this is complicated when two anxious Winchesters won't get off my back.

"Not anymore."

"Dinner's ready."

Sam walks over to me as I turn around to face him, sitting up on my bed.

"I think I might just stay in my room tonight. I'm not feeling too great."

"Jenny, this is the third night in a row. You need to come downstairs for dinner."

"I don't want to. Please Sam."

Usually he concedes by now, but he doesn't seem to be giving into my act. I can tell he feels bad, but his face holds stern as he responds.

"No, I want you to come down for dinner."

"Sam, Please." I try one last time.

"No Jenny. You haven't come out of your room in three days. You need to come downstairs." He gives me a strong look, letting me know that he means business. Finally I realize that this isn't a fight that I am going to win and I drag myself out of bed with a large roll of my eyes.

"Fine. Whatever." I mutter as I stomp out of my room, not bothering to change out of my flannel Pajama bottoms and one of Sam's baggy sweatshirts.

I trudge down the stairs with a sour look on my face for every step. Once I get to the bottom I enter the kitchen and see Dean putting three plates covered with steak, green beans, and mashed potatoes on the table.

I stomp over to the table and plop myself down into the seat with an angry growl planted on my face. Dean slows his movements and throws me a questioning glance, but I just cross my arms and glance in another direction.

"Okay." Dean mumbles, finishing the transfer of food and sitting down across from me.

It doesn't take long before Sam comes into the kitchen with an exhausted expression on his face and sits down at the table.

"Dig in." Dean says before him and Sam pickup their silverware.

Dean cuts up his steak before placing it into his mouth while Sam starts on the potatoes. I just sit back with my arms crossed, burning a hole through the table with my eyes.

"Eat up, Jenny. It's going to get cold." Dean mutters between bites.

"I'm not hungry."

"Eat Jenn." Sam tells me, not looking up as he pierces some green beans with his fork.

"I said, I'm. Not. Hungry."

Finally Sam glances at me, not giving into my attitude, "I'm not fooling around Jennifer. You haven't eaten in three days. I want you to eat now."

I know what he is worried about. I've been distant, not speaking or eating for days, and when I do speak it is laced with anger and distaste. And Sam knows that this is what happens in the early stages of my depression. I know that it's happening. It's like a creature eating my body from the inside, and I've already given in to it. It's taking control of me and I don't have enough energy to stop it.

"Eat Jenny. Now."

A scoff escapes my mouth before I stand up and begin to walk off from the table. Dean sighs at my growing attitude, but Sam instantly jumps up and runs after me. He grabs onto my arm and spins me around to face him.

"Get back to that table now!"

I try to jerk my arm up but his grip is to strong so I give him a strong push on his chest with tears in my throat, "You can't tell me what to do! You're not my father! He's dead! So stop trying to act like him and just leave me alone!"

Sam's expression goes blank, he loosens the grip on my arm and I turn away and run up the stairs to my room, slamming the door loudly behind me.

My shaking legs walk to my bed, trembling with each step as I find it harder to get oxygen to my lungs. Finally my legs give out as I fall onto my unmade bed, tears pooling silently in the rims of my eyes. My breathing is staggered and my vision is appearing to me in flashes, some of the present and some of the night that is haunting me. I don't actually remember it, but I can picture it. Me lying there, barely conscious as Johnny takes advantage of my body. I place a shaky hand to my chest and feel my heart beating wildly against it.

I put a trembling hand on my bedside and push myself into a standing position. Walking into the bathroom, I go to the shower and turn on the hot water knob. Hopefully it will calm me down a bit.

I take off Sam's baggy sweatshirt, leaving on the tank top I have on underneath. I carelessly push the elastic from my pajama pants over my hips and let them fall to the ground before stepping out of them with my hands on the sink to keep my balance.

My head is hanging down while tears work their way out of my eyes and my breath makes its way out of my throat in quick raspy pants. I want to end this feeling, for it to come to a stop. Without as much as a single thought I run to the shower, throwing open the curtain and stepping in side. I don't even notice that I am still partially clothed as I dig through my shower supplies and grab my razor.

Once I have it held in my hands I step out of the shower, sitting on the edge of the tub as the steam coats my wet skin. My labored breaths become greater like they always do once I get the razor in my hands, but I know how it all goes away once I make that first slice. However, when I get the cool metal to my skin I pause. One half of my mind is screaming at me to just do it already, but the other half can't bring myself to do it.

"Just do it." I cry to myself, tightening my hold on the razor.

"Fucking do it!" But no matter what I do I just can't make my body act.

"Ahh!"

I scream piercingly, pulling the razor above my head and hurling it across the bathroom with excessive force.

I stand up from the tub and stomp over to the sink, "God dammit!"

I raise my hands over my head once again, hot tears pouring down my beet red cheeks, and crash them down into the mirror. It breaks into little pieces, shattering onto the tiled floor of my bathroom. A sob escapes my mouth as I lower myself to the floor with all of the smashed pieces of my mirror.

I feel the shards of glass digging and making cuts into my soft flesh, but I don't have the strength to pull myself up. I cry in deep sobs as I pull my shaky hands up from the ground to see them covered in blood and scratches, and some glass still embedded in my skin.

"Jenny!"

I look up to see Sam and Dean run into my room, looking around madly with worry. Once Sam catches my eyes I can practically see his stomach drop.

"Oh god."

"Jenny!" Dean calls out as he runs to the bathroom, careful of the glass as he kneels down next to me and reaches out towards me, "Are you okay? What happened?"

"Don't touch me!" I cry, pulling back from his gentle hands.

Sam is now by my side as well and grasps me by the arms, "Jenny, what─"

"Don't! Stop it!" I trash from his grasp and pull myself away from Sam and Dean, leaving a trail of blood as I pull my body across the floor.

All I can see in my mind is that boy, his face hovered over my body, grunting and moaning as he thrusts into me roughly.

"Ahh!" I bite my lips to stop from crying out as my exposed thighs are cut with more glass.

"Jenny! What's wrong?" Sam asks, speaking with his hands as he and Dean both stand up carefully.

"Just leave, please! Just get out!"

"We're not leaving Jenn." Dean tells me, scared for me, "Why don't we get out of the bathroom and get you cleaned up."

I grasp my hands on the toilet bowl, pushing myself into a standing position with my head shaking angrily and tears running down my face as I cry in hysterics, "You…You can't clean me! I'm too dirty! I'm disgusting!"

"Jenny, what are you talking about?" Sam tries to approach me calmly.

"DON'T!" I scream at the top of my lungs as I back into the corner, scaring both Sam and Dean, "I'm a gross, dirty slut!"

"Jenny, you just have to calm down! We want to help you, okay?" Sam tries to sooth me.

My voice finally lowers as my body relaxes slightly, "I'm just…I'm so tired…I'm just so tired."

"I know you are. Just let us help you."

"I can't control it. I can't control anything."

My eyes droop and my limbs start to get tingly, maybe from pain, maybe from blood loss. I feel my legs begin to give out and before I know it I am wrapped up in Sam's arms, crying as he picks up my scrapped and bloody body off of the floor.

"It's okay." He calms me.

I try to struggle, but as Sam walks me by the mirror I see myself, cuts all over my wet body and blood dripping off of me, onto the floor. And the ground is covered in blood coated glass and smears of blood from where I dragged myself across the floor. Almost like a switch my body turns off, my eyes are open but there is no light behind them. I can hear and see everything around me, but I am distanced, not a part of it at all.

"You're gonna be okay." Sam brushes a hand through my sopping wet hair as he lowers me onto my bed, "How many stitches do you think she needs?"

"I don't know if she needs any." Dean replies, "There's a lot of blood, but I don't think the cuts are too deep. She probably just needs some disinfectant."

"Jenny?" Sam asks, beginning to get worried that I am no longer moving or crying.

"Jenny!"

Sam cups my face, icy to the touch, and tries to get some spark of acknowledgment into my eyes, "Come on, look at me Jenny!"

"Should we take her to the hospital?"

"No. Just get me some clothes for her, pajamas and some underwear."

Dean does what he's told and comes back with a pair of my pajama shorts, a long sleeved black shirt, and a pair of underwear.

"We should probably clean her up first. Or else she's going to get blood all over these."

Sam nods and goes to get the disinfect. When he comes back him and Dean each take some gauze and wet it with the alcohol disinfectant. They start at my feet and work their way up until they have my hands clean. They apply a few band aids to the larger cuts that continue to bleed and then throw away the dirty supplies.

"I guess I should…" Sam says to Dean, picking up the fresh clothes from the end of my bed.

"Yeah, well. I'm gonna go…away."

Dean turns for the door, not wanting to see that part of me, and Sam rolls his eyes, beginning to lift up my tank top.

I am positioned in his bed. He removes my shirt as I just lie there without protest, not able to move a single part of my body to stop him. He takes off my jeans and his eyes light up, staring down at my petite body.

"We're gonna have some fun."

"AHHHHHHH!!! GET OFF OF ME!"

I thrash around wildly with my eyes closed, hitting the person who is touching my body, trying to get me to expose myself.

"Leave me alone! Please!" Tears now pour out of my eyes.

"Jenny! Jenny! It's us!"

I feel my body pinned down on both sides and someone grabbing my face, giving it gentle but urgent taps. Finally I pry my eyes and look up, relieved at who I see.

"Sam?" I cry.

"Yeah it's me."

"Sam!" I sob, throwing myself up into his arms, "Don't leave me Sam. Don't let him get me!"

I sob into Sam's chest as he sits next to me on the bed, enveloping me in his arms and exchanging worried glances with Dean.

"Don't let who get you?"

"Please don't leave me!"

Sam rubs my back as it heaves violently, my arms squeezing tighter and tighter around his neck, tabling his question for the time being. He whispers soothing words and strokes my back gently, lulling me to sleep and laying me back into my bed.

"What the hell was that?"

"You think I know, Dean?!"

The boys lower their heads tiredly, rubbing there eyes, wishing that this was all a dream that they could wake up from.

Sam sits down at the dining room table, running over all of the events of today in his head before coming to a conclusion, "I think we need to call someone."

"What do you mean someone?"

"She's falling back into a depression Dean, I can feel it. She needs a therapist. Maybe if we caught this a little earlier we could handle this ourselves, but we are in way over our heads here. We need help."

"Don't I know it." Dean sits down across from Sam, "And what was with that 'Don't let him get me' stuff?"

"I have no idea." Sam shrugs tiredly, "I figure we can let her cool down and sleep for a bit and then see if she'll talk to us."

"Sounds like a plan."

Sam and Dean sit in a silence for almost an hour, each having a few beers in that amount of time. The thing that disrupts their silence is a muffled scream.

"You heard that right?"

Sam looks to Dean who gives him a nod in return and in a second they are both going up the stairs. Sam gets to the door first and throws it open, his stomach dropping at what he finds.

"Where is she?" Dean asks, stepping inside and making sure to inspect all corners of the room.

"I think I have an idea."

Sam walks across the room sadly, stopping in front of the window, the open window.

A/N: I hope that you all liked this chapter! Very dramatic right? And this isn't even the tip of the iceberg. I'll have the next chapter up soon. It might be a bit shorter than usual but something REALLY BIG is gonna happen.

Reviews are always appreciated!