"He's okay." I mutter to Sam as I walk back into the kitchen. After Dean's meltdown, he came back in the house and drank himself to sleep. He did it in his room though so none of us have talked to him. I just got back from checking up on him, and I found that he was passed out on his stomach with a gallery of beer bottles around him. Bobby looks up from his desk and nods, his lips turning into a small frown.
"Are you okay?" Sam asks and I look at him weirdly before sitting in the chair across from him.
"I'm fine. Why?" I ask and he glances at Bobby before leaning back in his chair and looking at me.
"We saw you crying. I mean, before… it happened." He says and I make a 'O' with my mouth, remembering when I shared some more about me with Dean. I shake my head and glance at the staring Bobby.
"Oh, I was just telling him a story. My brother totaled a car once, and I was just telling him about that." I explain and he nods his head slowly. It's quiet for a few seconds until Bobby shares another look with Sam and walks over to him, handing him a few papers. Sam thanks him and looks over the papers for a few moments until he meets my eyes.
"I asked Bobby to get some worksheets for you." He says and I quickly feel my chest tighten. I can't do this with them. This was supposed to be a new beginning. I shake my head quickly and wince as my breath catches slightly.
"No, I-I got stuff to do." I say and start getting up before Sam stops me.
"C'mon. School is important, you're going to wish you tried harder when you're older." He says and I shake my head again, holding my tongue back from yelling at him. He places the god-awful algebra sheets on the table and stands up along with me.
"Why not?" He asks gently and when I just reply with a short 'because', he says it more forcefully.
"Because!" I reply again, my voice going slightly higher, Bobby starts getting up to and Sam asks me why again, while Bobby's telling us to stay quiet in the background.
"Because, Sam. Just leave it alone, I'll read something later." I promise and he asks why once more, pushing me overboard.
"Because, I'm too damn stupid to even do it!" I yell and Sam pauses, looking at me surprised. He takes a step forward and I take one back, holding my hands up. I don't want to be touched, I don't want to be told I am stupid, I don't want pity, I just want someone to love me! Love me like a sister or like a daughter! As a friend, as anything! But, I won't get it. Because I don't deserve it. Because I'm too stupid, too fat, too mean, too…evil. Everyone, no matter what they say, wants love.
"No, you're not. Why would you say that?" Sam asks and this time he keeps his distance, along with Bobby.
"Because it's true, Sam! I'll never get anywhere in life. Why do you think I'm letting you guys teach me how to hunt! It doesn't matter if you know algebra or not. All you need is good survival skills and planning skills." I argue and he looks down as Bobby gets a look in his eyes. Understanding? Sympathy?
"Who told you that?" He asks and I feel my nerves fill with ice. He doesn't know. He doesn't understand I deserved it.
"N-nobody." I stutter, still the one to pick up my parents messes even when they're not around. Bobby shakes his head and steps up a foot closer to me, but I don't move away this time.
"That's not true. You don't just get these thoughts for no reason. It's always something. A teacher told you this, a friend, a sibling. But, it probably wasn't any of those. Tell me some more of your parents, Sammie. Because, each time you bring them up you get tense and you try not to talk bad about them. But when you do, you stutter and you cringe each time. So, tell me, what did they do?" He asks and Sam gapes at Bobby while I do everything in my power not to let myself cry. They're good people. They have a reason. I deserved it.
"They did what was right." Bobby shakes his head and steps up again.
"No. Whatever they did, wasn't right. Tell me about them." He says and my eyes squint, ready to lay it on him.
"Yeah, they've called me stupid a few times. But, they're right, I've never been smart." I say. Bobby huffs out a breath, looking down to the ground. Sam gapes at me and looks up to the ceiling, gulping. I didn't want this to happen. I wanted to just stay with the brothers for a few weeks then eventually branch out on my own on hunts. I wanted to be on my own and not worry about pleasing anyone or looking out for anyone else.
"No, it's not true, Samantha. That's not right to say, ever. Don't listen to them, they're your parents, they should protect you from the evil of the world. Not be the ones who you need to be protected from." Bobby says and he comes closer, bringing me into a hug. My jaw trembles with emotion and I step back quickly, not letting the hug last long.
"No, no. They- They were right to say that." I stutter and Sam shakes his head, looking down at me. Bobby's shoulders fall and I can't help but feel he's been where I've been. The lack of family pictures, the understanding, the need to make me realize that my parents aren't right. He's been where I've been.
"No, they are not, Samantha. I saw you in the hospital, using your own knowledge to appear and talk to Dean and I, you remember the important things we tell. You even calculated the miles to Ellen's. Your parents had problems, they couldn't see something wonderful if it hit them in the face." Sam says and I find myself embraced in his hug. He's holding me around my shoulders, just like my brother did. And for a few moments, I can even pretend this is my brother. They look alike. It's not too hard to pretend. But, soon I pull back as a yawn escaped my gaping mouth. And, I realize that Sam isn't my brother. I don't even know if my actual brother is still my brother. Because, we haven't talked in months. I've been piling all the other shit on top of that, so I can maybe forget that the last time I actually saw my real brother, the brother that would cuddle with me when I got scared or the brother that would save up his money to buy me movies or games, was over three years ago.
"You okay?" Sam asks gently, bringing my out of my thoughts. He's bending down slightly and looking down into my eyes, a concerned expression in his eyes.
"Fine, just thinking." I say before yawning again and glancing around the room, "I'm actually going to go hit the couch now, I'm tired." I say and we all say awkward goodnights before I lay down on the couch and fall asleep.
"Her parents said that?" I hear the harsh whisper of Dean reverberate throughout the living room. I keep my eyes closed, pretending to still be asleep so I can listen to the conversation.
"Yeah. Pretty messed up, right? She's like seventeen… I mean dad was hard on us but he never called us those kind of names." Sam mutters and I almost laugh at Sam calling me seventeen. I always thought I had a baby face, what with chubby cheeks and all, but everyone has always assumed I'm at least two years older than I really am. It's probably because I've always been more mature. My cousins and I could hold an intelligent conversation about the news or sometimes even politics since they were going to school to be lawyers. Even my sister would think I was turning sixteen on my birthday when I was actually turning fourteen. I've always took pride in being more mature though, I would rather be worrying about what's going on in the world and how it will affect us then what color eye-shadow matches my shirt.
When I was thirteen, I went through a year of wearing make-up but I quickly realized nobody liked me with or without it and putting products on my face took more of the time from time I could be using to read a good book.
"She's only fifteen." Is the only thing Dean replies. At least Dean is awake though and he's talking again. I was worried he might get alcohol poisoning or some shit. But, I guess he's fine miraculously.
Sam just grumbles in response to Dean and that's when I decide to fake a tired mumble and flip over onto my other side, facing the boys. I pop my green eyes open and blink a few times, feeling my eyes burn with the dryness.
"Morning." I mutter and Dean smiles before echoing my statement. I reach towards my hospital bag under the couch and grabbing the small bottle of eye drops, opening it and putting a few drops in my eyes.
"What's up with that?" Dean asks and I blink a few times, putting the bottle back into the bag and shoving it under the couch before replying.
"I use to have contacts because I had a weak eye but I worked on reading with that one eye and it got stronger. But, after wearing contacts for five years it dried out my eyes so I have to put drops in each morning." I explain and Sam looks over at me with raised eyebrows.
"You fixed a weak eye?" He asks and I nod before he makes a sound sounding like 'Wow.'
It's silent for a few seconds before Dean speaks again.
"It'll be probably about a week before Baby is fixed up completely. In the meantime, we'll look for jobs and go over the information you need with you." I nod and grab my bag again, wondering why I didn't leave it out when I knew I had to change, and walk into the nearest bathroom. I take off my black hoodie and matching pants before lumbering on a black tank-top, a red flannel shirt, and dark jeans. I pick the hoodie and pants up off the floor and stuff it back in the bag before walking back out the door, hearing the grumbling voices of Sam, Dean, and now Bobby.
"If she doesn't want to, she doesn't want to. Don't force her. You're just going to make her run away in the middle of the night." Bobby says and I can tell they're talking about me because... seriously I haven't seen another person with a vagina in this area the whole week I've been here.
"Okay, Bobby. We'll just make a list of monsters and she has to write down everything she knows about them." Sam says and I take the opportunity to place my bag under the couch and walk into the kitchen. They all look towards me and I hesitate before walking over to the overhead cabinets, turning towards Bobby.
"Can I get some coffee?" I ask gently, gesturing towards the already made coffee in the maker. He nods and I grab a brown mug from the cabinet, filling the cup and already taking a drink of the bitter drink. I wince slightly at the taste but continue drinking it as I sit across from Dean at the dinner table. It's silent for exactly six minutes, I may or may not count whenever it's awkward, until Dean stares at me thoughtfully.
"What's the full reason for your attempted suicide?" He asks. Sam sends him a look and Bobby just glances at me, waiting for an answer too.
"I told you the reason." I say pathetically.
"No, you told us a quarter of the reason. You don't just take a bottle of pills because someone called you crazy, there's a bigger picture." Sam scolds him again but Bobby interrupts this time.
"I kinda want to know too. I don't want to accidently say the wrong thing and find you an hour later swallowing pills." Bobby says and I give a bitter laugh before deciding to tell them. Somewhere in the back of my mind, the old me who laughed at the word penis is screaming, Fuck it. YOLO.
"Should I start where the downfall began?" I ask quietly and there's a shocked silence for a few moments. The silence that your ears ring and you're begging for someone to make a noise, just to stop the mind-numbing silence. Thankfully, my wish comes true and Dean nods before grabbing the boys some more black coffee and sitting back across from me as I start talking, the three of them listening intently.
"My big brother was my best friend. We'd share secrets, save up our money to buy each other crap, he'd comfort me when I was in distress, he'd even put up with the same movie playing every single night. I'm not kidding, I don't remember a night where I didn't wake up to the sound of The War Of The Worlds noises playing from the TV. That was from the time I was five to nine. Then, he changed. Got into drinking and weed. Weed turned to pill. Pills turned to heroin. We never talked, he never came home, I was left alone at the house.
"Then, we moved. I lost those two friends I had, my brother, my sister and her boyfriend stayed in town. The school I went to was hell. That's when I started getting depressed and getting anxiety. I wouldn't get out of bed, barely ate, never talked, I had no hope. I dropped out of school after three years of abuse from teachers and other students. I thought it might get better, until I realized I would always be at my house with my parents. If anything, it got worse. I was in constant fear. Fear of being hit, again, fear of one of my parents killing themselves, fear of never getting to leave the house, fear of leaving the house. They were always drunk, could barely keep their eyes open. I had to put them to bed, clean up their bodily fluids, take care of the pets, I pretty much did everything except get a job. I would've if I was legal age.
"But, my middle sister moved in. I was happy, I laughed, I gained some weight after I lost a hundred pounds, got away from my parents." I say, and my leg is bouncing so quickly off of the floor I'm worried it might fall off. I swallow the lump in my throat and continue, staring down at my empty coffee mug.
"Then, my brother was arrested. My oldest sister tried killing herself, and a day after that my middle sister moved out. My dog died, we had no money, my parents wouldn't even talk to me, I had nobody. I was nobody. I knew if I was gone nobody would care. So I took a few bottles of random pills, praying to god it worked. And… I'm not sure how I got in the hospital." I say, speaking the truth for the first time. Ready to get screamed at, to get thrown out. God knows I deserve it.