Disclaimer: I'm not gonna sit here and spend half an hour to think of a way to say no.

A/N: Hey y'all! Okay, so a few things… one is a small explanation for the delay in an update for this masterpiece (haha). I have moved, once again, to the other side of the country. Seriously, if you go to the beginning of this monstrosity and read all these added notes I have moved… a lot… and for like the third time, I'm at school… and I'm working. I think I've been in this situation before… and I believe I called myself superman at that point for being able to juggle school and work at the same time. But of course I have to outdo this time myself because back in September I found out that I am sick so in addition to moving across the country, starting school and starting work, I have had a million and one doctor appointments and ER visits to attend with. But, because I am sure there will be at least one loyal reader out there, I have a new story (a long one at that!) for you…

So on with that… I have a very serious warning with this one. It is not a death fic, but as you can probably tell with the title it has to do with a very serious topic- suicide. It is something that means something very personal to me as this is something I have struggled with in my past, and if it something you are sensitive with please feel free to skip this story and I promise to try and get a more light-hearted story out soon. I'm also going to for one of the first times have an A/N at the end of the story, so stay tuned for that. Enjoy!

Title: Secrets of Suicide
Genre: Suspense and sort of tragedy… with some fluff and family moments of course
Summary: Sometimes life crashes around you and you just don't know what to do anymore. Fourteen-year-old Sam hits a point in his life where he thinks he's alone in the world and suicide is the answer.

Secrets of Suicide

The Winchester's didn't always seem like a close family, but anyone who knew them well knew that the love was deep and strong. This was true when Mary would tuck young Dean into bed at night, when John took Sammy to his first soccer game and when Dean taught his brother how to drive. That wasn't to say that secrets didn't run just as deep as the love. This was especially true with the two Winchester brothers of whom John used to joke had their own language. John would die in 2006 without ever knowing the biggest secret the boys had from a decade earlier.

Summer, 1996

Sam sat quietly on his bed with his eyes squeezed shut. He knew what was coming, and prayed that maybe if he thought hard enough that it wouldn't. Maybe if he wished on every star in the sky than he wouldn't have the conversation. Maybe…

"Sam!"

Too late.

"Sammy, come here please!" John's voice wafted in from the living room.

Sighing deeply the fourteen year old got up and walked into the small living area. John sat on the edge of the ratty couch putting guns and ammo into a large duffle bag. He looked up when Sam walked into the room.

"Hey Buddy, we're going to be leaving soon," John frowned as he surveyed all the things in front of him; sure he'd forgotten something.

"Yup," Sam mumbled.

"We'll be back Saturday evening at the latest. You have my number if you need it though we may be out of range. Any emergency happens, call Caleb or Uncle Bobby. I've left my credit card by the toaster so you can order pizza; just remember not to answer the door—"

"Get them to leave it on the porch, I know," Sam finished half-heartedly.

John smirked and stood up, swinging his duffle over one shoulder, "Don't answer the door or phone for anyone. If I call, I'll let it ring twice and then call back right away. Keep your gun with you and salt along the doors and windows."

"Yessir," Sam's voice was at a whisper now.

Dean walked in at that point and looked quickly between his brother and Dad before speaking, "Car's all packed. Ready to go."

"Alright, thanks Dean," John nodded, "We'll see you Saturday Sammy."

Sam nodded.

"See ya squirt," Dean smiled.

Again Sam simply nodded.

Dean stopped in his tracks and frowned, "Everything okay Sammy?"

"I'm fine," Sam sighed.

Dean gave a prolonged looked before nodding slowly and joining his Dad outside. Sam closed and locked the door before numbly spreading the salt along the rim. The youngest Winchester wasn't entirely sure what was worse; joining in on the hunts, or being left alone while his Dad and brother went. It didn't matter though… his family didn't care about him or what he thought.

~S~

Sam sat on his bed the next night with tears streaming steadily down his face and a bottle of Tylenol sitting beside him. His whole body trembling Sam dumped the bottle onto his bedspread before him.

"I just don't want to be alone anymore," Sam hiccoughed, the wet tears splashing onto his pant leg, "I just don't…"

Sam's hands were clenched so tightly together he could feel his nails digging into his palms. His eyes squeezed shut as the tears still found their way out, Sam found himself thinking of his Mom.

"I'm sorry Mom," scooping a handful of the pills into his hand Sam's body continued to shake, "I just don't… I can't be alone anymore."

Shoving the small white pills into his mouth, Sam swallowed them quickly followed by a mouthful of the water he had sitting on his bedside table. He followed this pattern in quick succession to finish most of the bottle off and unconsciousness took hold.

Darkness enveloped Sam Winchester's world.

~S~

"Sam! … Sammy!" Sam could hear vaguely the scream and struggled to open his eyes.

He was laying on his bed still, though was vaguely aware that he'd vomited. By the door was the blurry outline of Dean.

"Sam, what the hell did you do?!" Dean cried out taking a large leap over to his little brother, "What did you do Sam?!"

"I…" Sam's whole body was shaking and he could feel his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

Dean scooped up the remaining pills which still sat on the soiled covers and shoved them in his pocket. Without a pause in between, Dean then grabbed Sam fireman style and bolted out of the house and to the Impala. Any other time Dean would have been disgusted by the sick that was dripping down his back or the state his car was going to be in, but his only worry at that point was Sam.

"C'mon Sammy, stay with me," Dean looked over to where his brother was haphazardly laying in the front seat.

He would have placed him in the back but Dean refused to let his brother out of his sight.

"Please Sam, please…" Dean reached over and touched his brother; his skin was cool and clammy.

The Winchester's lived close to the hospital and with Dean's speeding the Impala screeched in front of the emergency room doors within five minutes. Barely turning the ignition off, Dean jumped out and ran inside.

"Please!" he yelled loudly, "Please, you gotta help my brother! Someone help!"

A blur of commotion happened as two orderlies came from within a small room, and followed Dean's frantic lead to the car. Carefully the orderlies got Sam onto a stretcher just as someone tapped Dean on the shoulder.

Dean swung around to see an older doctor with a stethoscope around his neck, "What happened?"

"He took a bunch of these," Dean wasn't even aware of the tears coming down his face as he handed the pills to the doctor.

The man nodded silently and took off after. Dean immediately went to follow but was stopped by a nurse at the large double doors in the lobby.

"Excuse me sir, but I'm going to need to get a bit of information from you," she looked tired and old.

"He's my brother, and he's sick!" Dean tried to get past her, "What more do you need to know lady?"

The nurse frowned, "Is your Mom or Dad around?"

Dean thought quickly on his feet, "No. Our parents died in a car accident last year. I'm taking care of him."

The nurse eyed Dean a moment.

"I'm 20 year old lady- I have ID in the car!" Dean burst frustrated, "I just need to help my brother!"

"I need you to fill out some forms," the nurse went back to her desk, "And then a doctor will be out to see you soon."

Mumbling curse words that would have got him a smack upside the head by his Dad, Dean grabbed the clipboard and headed out the front door. He moved quickly to get the car in the parking lot then shuffled through the cards and forms their Dad had tucked away in the trunk. From the time Dean was old enough to play the part and John had begun leaving the brothers alone for extended periods of time, fake documents had been made to give Dean sole custody of Sam. John explained, when Dean questioned, that regardless of what was happening Dean's number one priority was to make sure Sam was okay; and that would be a lot easier when John was away if Dean played the guardian.

By the time the older sibling had got back to the waiting room nearly ten minutes had passed, and Dean frustratingly began on the paperwork. He knew he should be calling someone; John, Uncle Bobby, Caleb… but what would he tell them? Dean wasn't even sure himself exactly what had happened.

Dean busied himself on the paperwork.

"Family of Sam Springfield?" forty minutes later a man in blue scrubs walked into the deserted waiting room.

"Yes," Dean jumped to his feet.

The doctor looked down at a chart in his hands, "You're Dean Springfield?"

"Yes I am," Dean nodded, "Please. How is my brother?"

"Dean, why don't we sit down for a minute," the doctor pointed to a chair, "My name is Doctor Evans and I just wanted to ask you a few questions."

Dean didn't want to sit down. He wanted to run through the doors to Sammy. But once again, Dean knew he should listen to make everything go as quick as possible.

"Now Dean," Dr. Evans looked concerned, "Has Sam ever tried to commit suicide before? Or shown any signs of self-harm?"

Dean thought hard before slowly shaking his head, "No. He's always been one of those kids who keeps everything to himself."

Dr. Evans nodded thoughtfully, "Unfortunately that's the way it often is. It just builds up in a person to the point where they don't know what to do. We found a large dose of acetaminophen in Sam's system; do you keep Tylenol where you live?"

Dean nodded numbly.

"We pumped his stomach and gave him some activated charcoal," Dr. Evan's went on, "Now the good news is that the blood work we took indicates that he is not at risk for hepatotoxicity—between how quick you got him here, how much he initially vomited up and the pumping of his stomach, a potentially lethal dose into his blood was avoided."

Dean closed his eyes and sighed in relief at this.

"We currently have him on a simple saline drip to keep him hydrated and were going to give him some sedatives but he insisted on wanting to talk to you first," Dr. Evans smiled slightly, "I can see the related stubbornness between you two. In the long run, I want to get some more blood work in about four hours to make sure everything is clearing out of his system okay and keep him the rest of the night. In the morning I'll do one last round of blood work and then it will be safe to discharge him."

"Can I see him now? Please," Dean felt a lump in his throat.

With a silent smile Dr. Evans nodded and led Dean through the doors. The walk was a short one, but Dean managed to increase his heartrate substantially by the time they got to the door.

"Just in there," Dr. Even spoke, "Don't be too long. I'd really like him to get some rest this evening and the tomorrow morning I'll talk to you about some outpatient counselling programs we have."

Dean nodded and walked through the door. Sam laid on the bed, his eyes half closed as he stared at the wall in front of him with a white sheet and pale blue blanket pulled up to his chest. An IV tube was connected to his right arm, and though the kid was only fourteen years old the deep, dark circles under his eyes made him seem so much older and as if he hadn't slept in weeks.

"God Sammy…" Dean whispered his voice catching in his throat as walked slowly over.

Sam jumped slightly in his bed and looked over, his eyes widening in fear.

"Dean," Sam's voice trembled as immediate tears built in his eyes as he forced himself to sit up slightly, "Dean I-I'm so sorry."

Dean found his own tears forming as he swallowed the hard lump in his throat and spoke at barely and audible whisper, "What the hell Sammy?"

"I'm sorry Dean," Sam didn't try to hide his tears as he normally would have and sucked in a staggering breath as his brother approached his bedside, "I'm so sorry. I-I just… I was so tired of this life. And so scared, and- and I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to be alone Dean, I can't…"

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, his emotions overwhelming him.

"Sammy look at me," Dean spoke softly as he held Sam's hand, then spoke more firmly at his brother's lack of reaction, "Sam! You are never alone. Do you understand me? I will always be here for you man, always. No matter what, you should know that."

"I know," Sam hiccoughed, "I know. It was stupid."

"You're damn right it was stupid Sam. When I saw—" Dean squeezed his eyes shut against the images of seeing his brother laying on the bed then spoke with his voice cracking, "Don't ever do that to me again Sammy."

Sam launched forward and grabbed his big brother into hug, "I won't Dean."

The rest of the night went by slowly for Dean as he kept vigil on his brother both refusing to leave his side and refusing to get any sleep despite the fact that Sam was given sedatives and himself drifted off nearly an hour after his arrival. An internal debate wrestled inside Dean's mind as to whether he should call their Dad; Sam had begged him not to—insisting that by the time their Dad even came home the next week that he'd be feeling better and that the whole thing would be forgotten about. This in itself spurred a lengthy reminder that Dean would never let Sam forget about this; but he also understood wanting to keep the secret between the two of them. It was a secret that Dean would regret many times as they grew up keeping from their Dad, but that he kept his word on.

By the time morning came, and the new blood work came back giving the okay to be released both Winchester's were anxious to leave the hospital.

"C'mon Sammy," Dean wrapped an arm around his little brother as they left the front doors, "I'll take you home and you can relax there."

Sam nodded.

They got to the Impala and Sam slowly got inside; all his muscles sore from being so violently sick. He was thankful as Dean didn't drive his normal reckless ways, but instead seemed to drive the opposite and was careful and drove slowly.

"Hey Dean," Sam suddenly thought of something, "What did Dad say when you suddenly just left the hunt to come home?"

"Not much," Dean shook his head dismissively, "He wasn't too happy I don't think—thought I was overreacting thinking something was wrong. Thank God I did come back."

Sam nodded, "No kidding. Thank you again Dean. And I'm sorry for everything. You're probably gonna get in trouble with Dad about running off when he does get home."

"We'll worry about that next week when he gets home Sammy," Dean reached over and squeezed his brother's shoulder affectionately, "For right now I want you to just worry about figuring things out with you man."

Silently Sam nodded and tried to relax the rest of the ride home. It wasn't a long trip, and as soon they pulled onto the street Dean immediately slowed down and both brother's eyes widened.

"What the—" Dean breathed out.

"Dean, what's Dad's truck doing here?" Sam's voice quivered seeing John's truck parked in the driveway of their small house.

Dean had no answer to this; their Dad wasn't supposed to be back and had made it clear when Dean left in the middle of the hunt that he wouldn't be returning until Saturday at the earliest. Cautiously Dean pulled the Impala up beside the truck and went around the passenger side door to help Sam out. He'd barely gotten the door open and helped his brother out when a voice came from behind.

"Dean! Sam!"

"Dad," Dean was unable to keep the surprise off his face as he kept one hand supporting Sam and turned around to see John jog down the front steps and to the car, "I thought you were on the hunt…"

"I came back early," John's eyes were wide in concern, "The house was unlocked and it looked like someone had gotten sick all over the house," his head turned to his youngest, "…Sammy?"

Sam's eyes flicked quickly to his brother's then Dad's, "I'm okay."

"Dean?" John swallowed, "What happened?"

"I took him to the hospital," Dean first assured, "He'll be alright. I'm just going to bring him inside and get him laying down then I'll explain everything."

John nodded and took one side of Sam while Dean supported the other. Still in awe at his family there helping him, Sam didn't argue the help and allowed himself to be lead inside the house.

"Is it his stomach?" John questioned when they got in.

"Yeah," Dean quickly took off Sam's jacket and shoes.

"Alright, bring him to my room," John instructed to Dean then turned his attention to his youngest, "You can sleep on my bed right now- Dean and I will clean up your bedroom and move you over there later today."

"No Dad, I'll be—"

"Sammy don't argue," John interrupted as he helped Sam sit on the end of the bed before looking at Dean, "Go get a bowl from the kitchen and see if we have any more of the ginger ale left. If so, bring a glass."

Dean nodded, "Okay."

Sam stripped down to his boxers and John winced as he saw the markings of an IV in his arm. He bit back the urge to question his youngest, but the darkness under his eyes told him that his son needed rest; Dean would explain everything he needed to know.

"All set Sam?" John questioned pulling the covers over as if he was five years old again.

"Yessir," Sam whispered.

John frowned, "What's wrong?"

Sam hesitated a moment, "Dad why are you back? You were supposed to be on the hunt until Saturday."

John honestly didn't know how to answer the question. Dean left the hunt saying that he had the feeling something was wrong with Sam, and as furious as John had been with his eldest for abandoning a hunt for a 'feeling', it had been only hours later the same feeling crept up on John. And be damned if John Winchester didn't put his sons before son any sonofabitch demon. He'd raced the speed limit home and sure enough found the signs that Dean's gut instincts had been right.

"I'm sorry Dad," Sam spoke again to the silence.

"Hey," John smiled, "Don't be sorry. The hunt can wait Sam; you're more important right now."

Sam smiled, and felt his face flush as he was unable to hold a tear back from crawling down his face.

"Hey now," John gave a small chuckle and wiped the tear away, "None of that. You'll be fine Sammy; you just need rest. Dean and I aren't going anywhere."

And John Winchester was right. For the next two days Sam continued to recover and had his family surrounding him to make sure he had everything he needed. Dean in particular sat with his little brother and talked with him for hours on end, reminding him how much he loved him and that no matter how far away he was Sam Winchester would never be alone.

The End.

A/N: Hey everyone, hope you enjoyed that! So a couple things… one is that if this is ever a situation in your life please never do as Dean did my story and keep it a secret. Suicide or mental health in general is not something to be ashamed about or to be shy about talking about with your family or friends—like Sam found out in the end—you're never really alone! Secondly if you or anyone you know is feeling suicidal please call the Suicide Hotline: 1-800-273-8255. They're there to help, not judge!