Chapter 8:

2015 (Season 10)

Tag to: The Werther Project

Dean watched out of the corner of his eye as Sam squirmed in the passenger seat of the Impala. Now that his wrists were stitched up, he knew from experience that they had to be painful and itchy.

As pissed as Dean was at Cuthbert Sinclair for inventing the Werther box to begin with, that wasn't what had Dean so upset. He was more concerned over what this little mishap would bring up from Sam's past.

"Hey Sammy?" Dean finally said, after driving in silence for the past several minutes.

Sam turned his head away from the window to look at his brother's profile.

"What's up Dean?"

Dean's jaw twitched.

"Uh… if I ask you something will you promise not to punch me?"

Sam quirked an eyebrow at his brother.

"That doesn't sound good."

"I'm serious."

Sam sighed and a slight smirk made its way across his face.

"Okay, I won't punch you."

"Why did you slice your wrists?"

"Because the Werther box makes you suicidal, why do you think?"

Dean shook his head slightly.

"Yeah… but why that way? You always have a gun on you, that would have been easier… so why?"

Sam sighed and turned himself towards his brother.

"Are you asking me if I still want to cut myself?"

Dean met his brother's eyes before looking back at the road.

"Well do you?"

Dean could feel Sam's eyes on him, and there was silence for a few minutes.

"It has been a long time since I have thought about it, and honestly I don't believe I will ever do it again because what happened today."

Dean frowned.

"Why did today change that?"

Sam shifted uncomfortably in his seat. They had never really discussed the deep seeded problems that had kept Sam returning to one of his most shameful secrets.

"Look Dean, all those years ago I made a stupid mistake and I brought a blade to my arm. That first time I did it out of anger and despair, bur somewhere along the way I realized I had found something I could control… so from then on when my life went to hell and I lost everything… I went back to that thing I could control."

Dean swallowed harshly.

"I'm sorry if I ever made you feel that way."

"You didn't, that's all on me. I just didn't realize that I had lost control in my search for control. Honestly, the whole thought process is idiotic."

"No it isn't… I guess I kind of understand why you did it. Care to tell me why today changed anything?"

Sam smiled and brought up his left arm, the gauze slightly stained with red blood.

"Something forced me to do this Dean. And it cut through all the old scar tissue. It is gonna put its own scar through all the self inflicted cuts… in its own weird may, this scar has erased the other ones. Cutting was a control thing, today something else controlled that decision for me. Now it doesn't feel like a control thing anymore."

"So… you are telling me, that you almost died, and that is a good thing?"

Dean saw Sam smiled, as if sharing a private joke with himself.

"You have no idea Dean. Today was a good day."

Dean rolled his eyes.

"You're insane Sammy."

"So are you big brother, so are you."