Chapter 7:
2013 (season 9)
Sam awoke in a cold sweat with images of Kevin being killed by his hands flashing before his eyes. He sat up and threw his legs over the side of the bed attempting to get control of his haggard breathing. For the first time in a long time, he pushed down on the collection of scars on his arms. Just as he began to feel pain, Sam gasped and pulled back.
In times past, this would be when he would go to Dean, who would calmly talk him off the edge, and keep him distracted until the need for release past, but this time he couldn't do that. Dean had betrayed him, let an angel inside him, taken away all of Sam's control over his body, and Sam was having a hard time trusting his brother again.
Sam had been ready to die, and even now he wasn't sure if he wanted to be here or not. Especially when he was alone, without his brother having his back. It was a dark cold realization that he had never felt this alone before.
Sam stood and made his way to his closet to pull out his duffel and he slipped out an old pocketknife that he always kept there. He sat back down on the bed, and systematically began opening and closing the knife, the light from the lamp making the silver blade glint with each movement.
Tears slid down his face, and he let out a strangled cry. He wanted to cut, but he didn't want to cut. He wanted to hurt, but he was already hurt enough.
"Sam?"
Sam jumped at the voice and closed the knife once again, turning his head towards the voice.
"Cas? What are you doing here?" Sam asked wiping the tears from his face and putting the knife on the end table.
Castiel tilted his head and pushed the door open a little farther stepping inside.
"Dean offered to help me gather some information on the Gadriel and Metatron." Cas looked at Sam closely, before his expression turned sympathetic. "You are upset."
Sam smiled slightly.
"No, just a bad dream. I'm fine."
"You're lying."
Sam laughed.
"Sometimes I miss when you weren't so human. Really Cas it's okay, nothing I can't handle."
Cas didn't seem to believe him, but nodded his head anyway.
"We are in the library if you need us."
"Thanks, but I think I will get some sleep."
"Okay, sleep well Sam."
Castiel shut the door behind him, and continued to frown… something was off with the younger Winchester, but Cas did not know exactly what. He made his way back down the hallway to the library, and sat down across from Dean who was indulging himself in an over abundance of whiskey.
"Is Sam okay?" Castiel asked.
Dean looked up and crooked an eyebrow at his friend.
"I don't know if you've noticed but me and Sam aren't exactly on heart to heart level speaking terms at the moment. He seemed fine to me earlier. Why?"
"He is upset."
Dean snorted and poured some more whiskey.
"What the hell else is knew? He is always pissed off about something."
"No Dean… he is crying."
Dean's glass stopped halfway up to his mouth and he stared at Castiel.
"Crying? About what?"
"I am not sure. He claims it was a nightmare, but he looked fully awake to me. He was sitting up and he was flicking that knife of his up and down, but he wouldn't tell me-"
"Wait. He had a knife?" Dean said as a familiar fear crept up his spine.
A fear that had been haunting him since Sam and Dean were both teenagers and Sam first took a turn down a dark and painful road.
"Yes, why is that relevant? He is a hunter, knives can't be that strange."
Dean stood up and walked quickly towards the entrance of the library, with a yell at Cas to wait there.
He made his way quickly up the hall towards the bedrooms and pushed open Sam's door. To anyone else it would appear Sam was sleeping but Dean knew better. He knew every way his brother's breath hitched, and this was not the breathing of sleep. Dean padded across the room and stood behind his brother's back.
"Sammy, give it to me." Sam tensed, but did not move. "Now, Sam."
Sam grunted and rolled over, holding out the pocketknife, which Dean slipped in his back pocket. Dean let out a sigh, and pulled Sam's desk chair over the side of the bed.
"Let me see."
"Fuck you." Sam snarled.
Dean clenched his jaw, but made no retort.
"Damn it Sammy, just let me see the damage and I will leave you alone."
Sam scoffed and sat up and pushed up his sleeves.
"I didn't fucking do anything alright?"
Dean looked down and sure enough, except for a few red marks from Sam scratching at the scars, there was nothing there except for the roadmap of scars from years past.
"Okay… sorry for bothering you."
Dean had gotten Sam out of immediate danger, and at this point that was all he could do if Sam didn't want his help. Dean stood and walked towards the door.
"I'm not as weak as you think I am."
That stopped Dean in his tracks, and he closed his eyes, not turning around to face his brother.
"I never thought you were weak Sam."
"Bullshit, that's all I have ever been to you. Poor little Sammy too weak to save himself, which is why you ran in here just now isn't it? To make sure I wasn't bleeding to death? I let you off the hook remember? You don't need to save me anymore."
Dean turned towards Sam with his hands clenched.
"No Sam, you let yourself off the hook. You don't want to be my brother anymore? Fine. But I don't let go that easy. You are still my little brother, and I am not gonna let you die, and I am definitely not gonna let you kill yourself. You don't get to cut your God damn wrists in your bedroom while I am sitting in the fucking library."
Sam laughed darkly and stood from the bed, walking closer to Dean.
"How are you gonna stop me Dean? You never could. I always found enough time to do it when I wanted to. It isn't like you have a little angel alarm in my head anymore to take over my body when I do something you don't like."
"Damn it Sam, it wasn't like that! And if I have to chain you up in the dungeon to keep you safe I will. I am just hoping it won't come to that. Please Sam. I need you here with Cas and me. We need to fix all this. Just… come to the library, help us research."
Sam sighed and gave Dean a dark glare.
"I'll help you… and I'll try not to die. But if I want to cut myself, and have a little bit of control over myself, I'll do it if I want. And you can't stop me."
Sam slipped past Dean and into the hallway, leaving Dean alone. Dean punched the concrete wall, and let out a growl.
Sam wasn't going to hurt himself on Dean's watch. Besides, what did he have to lose? Sam already hated him, at least of Sam hated him it meant he is alive, and Dean figured he could live with that… for now at least.