Last semester was actual hell but I've got some time before I need to go back and I'm feeling back in writing mode! I got a short chapter for you this time, but I'm working on it lol. Burnout is real.

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On with the show!


Dean ran down the stairs to the kitchen where Bobby kept his landline. "Hello?"

"Hey!" John said, actually sounding cheerful for once. "Where's your brother?"

"Asleep," Dean answered without hesitation.

"Asleep?" John asked. He paused, presumably to look at a clock. "Isn't it only nine for you boys?"

"Yeah, we pumped him full of cake and ice cream for dinner tonight," Dean made up. "So you know, sugar crash."

John chuckled. "You'll regret that later when he's puking."

Dean took his turn to laugh. "Yeah, you're right about that."

"Hm. Well, I guess I'll call him back tomorrow."

Dean cringed. He turned around and saw Bobby leaning in the doorway watching. Dean started to panic and wonder if he should tell his dad.

"That sounds good, sir," he said instead.

The line went quiet. "Everything okay, Dean?"

"Everything's great!" Dean said in the most convincing tone he could give. "Sammy will be happy to hear you called."

John grunted into the phone and Dean reluctantly hung up. He was doing the right thing, right? If he could just get Sam under control and fixed soon, there would be no need to alarm their dad. Besides, if their dad even knew a little of what was going on, it would only make things worse. Sam didn't need another person breathing down his neck until he gave in.

"Are you sure about this Dean?" Bobby asked.

"Of course not Bobby!" Dean yelled, shaking his head. "Part of me wants to lock that kid up in a hospital and the other part wants to trust that he'll just wake up one day cured!"

"He's not going to just wake up cured Dean!" Bobby yelled back. Dean anxiously ran his hands down his face. Bobby took a deep breath. "Listen," he said calmly, "I'm scared as hell for that kid too. But we gotta do something to help him."

"Like what?"

Bobby opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted by the floor in the hallway creaking. He sighed. "Come on out, kid."

Sam slowly shuffled his feet around the corner into the kitchen. He had his arms wrapped around himself and his eyes looked red. No doubt he heard most of their conversation. Dean and Bobby exchanged a look; neither of them knowing what to say.

"You think I need help?" Sam asked, barely breaking a whisper.

Dean scoffed. "You don't?!"

"Dean." Bobby warned.

Sam started practically sobbing. "I'm sorry!" he wailed, falling to the ground. Bobby barely caught him in time. He held Sam up as Sam started rambling. "I didn't mean to scare you guys. I thought I was just having a bad day but you think I'm sick, don't you?"

Dean couldn't handle the guilt anymore. He crossed the kitchen over to them. "Sammy-"

"DON'T YOU?!" Sam screamed.

Dean and Bobby exchanged another look. Bobby guided Sam over to the table and had him sit down. Sam folded his arms on top of the table and rested his head on them, still crying.

"We don't think you're sick," Bobby explained, attempting to comfort the teen. He pulled out the chair next to Sam and sat down. "But maybe ya just need a little bit of help to getcha out of this funk ya can't shake."

Sam turned his head to look at Dean, who was still standing in the kitchen next to them like a deer in headlights. "Do you think I need help?" he asked again.

Dean cleared his throat. "I do," he answered, truly meaning it. Sam knew his brother was being sincere. He turned his head back down and whimpered. He was trying to stop the crying but the tears just kept coming. Dean's heart was breaking for his brother. He had never seen Sam so upset before and he caught himself starting to get emotional as well. Dean looked up at the ceiling and blinked, keeping his own tears at bay to stay strong for Sam. Bobby's gaze shifted back and forth between the two of them, prepared to put a stop to both of their meltdowns if he had to.

"Sam, we will do whatever you want, okay?"

Sam nodded. He lifted his head and started to aggressively clean his face on his sleeves.

Bobby gestured for Dean to swap places with him. Dean hesitated at first, worried he was going to say something to make Sam start crying again or piss him off. Anything that would ruin this moment and lead to Sam deciding not to get help. Or doing something else. Bobby simply left the kitchen, trusting that he could leave them both alone.

Dean nervously rubbed his hands together. "We'll fix it, okay Sammy? I promise."

Sam looked up at Dean with pleading eyes and nodded. "Yes please."


someones-big-sister