The Starving Art
Epilogue
"Hey," Sam said as he stood face to face with her. Ruby's brown eyes stared into his hazel eyes. It was the first time they had spoken since he got out of the hospital.
After revealing everything to Dean, they went to the doctor together. Sam was encouraged to talk about everything he had said to Dean, and they discussed a treatment plan.
Sam was admitted into the hospital for an IV and a feeding tube that night, and remained in the hospital for a month. The doctors had assured the Winchesters that it was the only way for Sam to regain his body weight faster than he was losing it, and it did work.
Before the eating disorder that had actually helped Sam get closer to his family than before, he weighed a fairly normal 145 pounds. After treatment, Sam weight 163 pounds, but his weight was steadying as time went on. The doctors assured him that it was completely normal, and that he would lose the excess weight as soon as his body knew he wasn't dying anymore.
After receiving treatment for his eating disorder, Sam realized that his worst days in recovery were still better than his best days during his disordered eating habits. He felt more alive, less dead, and was even spending more time with his dad.
When Sam was released from the hospital, he began seeing John more, who, to his surprise, actually stepped up to the plate. Before treatment, John had been a big drinker, though did make sure to keep it away from his boys. While he attempted to, sometimes it did make it home, and Sam and Dean were well adjusted to this. Though, John had quit drinking, spending his weekends with both the boys, and Dean even said that Sam could go back with their dad anytime he wanted. Sam didn't leave yet, though. He still had some stuff he wanted to take care of before he did that.
"Hey," Ruby said quietly. "There's no way you're at your goal weight."
"I gained it all back," Sam told her. "I weigh around 160 now."
"You ruined all your hard work. We can start you back on a 500 calorie diet as soon as possible," Ruby said. "We can go through your kitchen and weed out the bad foods."
"I'm not doing that anymore, Ruby," Sam said. "I just got out of the hospital, and I intend to stay out of the hospital."
"Why are you doing this?" Ruby asked. "Don't you want to be perfect? To be pure?"
"There's no such thing as perfect. The cost of being perfect could have killed me. It would have if Dean hadn't caught me."
"Why were you so sloppy? You might not have gotten caught if you were more careful!"
"I'm better now, Ruby," Sam said. He turned away and began to walk toward the impala. Dean was waiting, leaning against the passenger door, waiting to open it for his younger brother. "You should get better too."
Sam walked back to the impala and got in while Dean situated himself in the passenger seat. After Dean began to drive, Sam turned to him.
"You know how I've been getting treatment from doctor Purelli?"
"Yeah, what about it?" Dean raised an eyebrow. His brother had asked the weirdest questions since they were kids, and he was waiting to hear what he had to say this time.
"I think you should get treatment too," Sam said. "For your bulimia."
"You know what, Sam?"
"What?"
"That's not such a bad idea."
Sam was packing up for college. He had finally graduated as the valedictorian and was accepted into Stanford. Well, actually, he was accepted to everywhere he had applied except for MIT, but picked Stanford as his final choice.
"God, you're gonna be so far away," Dean commented as he helped back Sam's stuff. After treatment, Sam's little room still hadn't been given the treasure which was a door, but Dean had installed a curtain to give him some privacy.
"I'll visit whenever I can," Sam said. "Maybe after I get out of classes for the summer we'll take a little road trip. We could go to the Grand Canyon."
"Man, I've always wondered how many dead bodies are down there." Dean laughed to himself, taping the last box shut. "Good thing you got this beautiful thing called a scholarship. Now I can spend my money on rent and sending you care packages."
"You don't have to send me anything," Sam said. "I've already got a job lined up at the bookstore for some extra cash, and I'll be able to afford food and everything."
"Yeah, well, I want to make sure you're taken care of properly," Dean said. "You still gonna call in your appointments with your therapist or have you scheduled for one in Cali?"
"I set up some appointments with doctor Purelli, but I think I'm gonna see if she can refer me to someone in California so that I don't have to travel for physical sessions," Sam said. "I also already checked out support groups for people with eating disorders in case I relapse."
"You're not gonna relapse," Dean said. "You're too strong for that, but thank you for easing my mind." Sam smirked and together they loaded up the boxes and duffle bags into the trunk of the truck that Sam had received as his birthday gift when he turned eighteen.
"I'm gonna miss you, man," Dean said. "It's not gonna be the same without you here to nag me."
"Same here," Sam responded. "I'll call you when I get there."
"Hell no, you call me the first time you stop to take a leak on the side of the road," Dean said. "And take your vitamins and all that crap."
"Sure thing, bro."