Maybe it was the Jack Daniels, maybe it’s the luke warm haze of the midnight air ot maybe it was the adrenaline of the hunt still pulsing through his veins. But Dean felt himself becoming faint, with barely any objects near by to steady himself, he fell to his knees. The whiskey dropped from his grip and spilt on the ground beside him. He couldn’t keep himself from passing out, not again, it was too much. His head hit the soft soil and all Dean could do was stare into the distance and listen to his own breathing. It grew fainter by the second and his vision blurred. He was gone.
“Dean!!”
He woke suddenly. Everything was white and glowing, so much that it hurt his eyes.
“Sammy?” He choked.
His brother stood over him, a look of concern on his face. Something beeped, in time with his heart beat.
Beepbeep beepbeep
“Where am I?” Dean asked, trying to sit up.
Sam gently pushed him back down.
“Rest Dean.”
He didn’t understand. What was going on? Where was he? Something tucked at his wrist. A drip? It was a drip. His stomach ached, burned as if it was on fire.
“What? What happened Sammy?”
Beepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeepbeep
“ calm down. Come on!” Sam replied.
It hurt so much to move, to , slowly he placed a hand on his stomach.
“I’m bleeding?” He asked, feeling the thick bandage.
“You...you tried to kill yourself.”
No.
“Sammy...I swear. I didn’t.”
“Don’t Dean. Please. Stop it. Just tell me why!”
“I didn’t. Really Sam I think I would remember trying to cut my self a new navel.”
“Stop it!” Tears fell down Sam’s cheeks,” Just tell me why Dean?”
Dean was many things but not suicidal, at least not for a long time. He didn’t do this, and he knew he didn’t. So why didn’t Sam believe him, his own brother.
“Sam.” He replied calmly,” I didn’t do this. Believe me!”
“I get it, you broke our promise, you broke, you...you hurt yourself b—“
“What. Ah...no I haven’t hurt myself.”
He tried to cover his arms which bore the fresh wounds.
“Yes you have, don’t try to hide it. But this all aside, you...what ever you where going through, you didn’t have to go through it alone. I have said it before, I’m here to help. Don’t ignore me, don’t hide, because this (he pointed to Dean’s stomach and then to his arms) this is what happens Dean.”
“I’m telling you the truth, I didn’t do this! But you know what. Fuck you! Believe what you want!”
Sam ran his fingers through his shaggy, brown hair, before wiping his tears on his sleeve.
“It’s not the truth, and you know it isn’t.” He took a deep breath,” Im going to talk to a doctor. I’ll be back soon.”
“Don’t bother. I don’t want you here if you’re not going to believe a word I say.”
Sam headed for the door with out looking back, he was tired and it showed in the way he walked.
“It was...it was the bitch in my dreams Sam. She did it, believe me please. PLEASE!!!”
‘He was insane’ that was all Sam could think, ‘he had cracked’. He belonged an asylum, not on the road hunting evil.
Dean was alone, with only his thoughts. The urge to cry was almost too much, be he held together anyway. He had been known to take things like this out on him self, when things went wrong, he had been known to hurt himself to almost the point of death. But he never went over the line. The line of death, so why go over now. In the last few months, he had become self-destructive, taking dangerous jobs, drinking a lot, driving under the influence and hurting himself, sometimes starving.
Had he been drunk? No. It was her! Don’t let her win, he couldn’t let her win.
Maybe if he went to sleep, it would all go away.
XxxxxxxxxxX
“Mr. O’Malley, upon talking to your brother, he seems to have no memory of doing this to himself. But his self-destructive behaviour seems to prove otherwise.”
Sam looked at the psychologist sitting across from him, on the other side of a grand oak table. It had been three hours since Dean had woke, and he had gotten only 15 minutes rest before doctor’s cam storming in to gather facts.
“It is unlikely, that he was mugged and also that he was drunk. Because believe me son, he wasn’t.”
“What are you suggesting?” Sam asked, fearing the worst.
“He was acting sober. He did this to himself of his own free will.”
Sam took a deep, shaky breath. He had been hoping that Dean had been drunk, he had been praying.
“You’re brother is a deeply depressed young man. I understand that he is on Citilopram?”
“Yes.20mg’s and he has to take one every day with water, with or after food.”
“And I understand he refuses to take them?”
“Yes.”
“Well I’m afraid that given his condition I want to put him on Tranylcypromine. 10mg twice a day, morning and afternoon. If there is no response with in two to three weeks we will up to dosage. “
“I’m sorry. But he doesn’t take his pills now, what are the changes of him taking these new ones.”
“We are keeping in the hospital under observation for at least another 3 weeks. So he will have to put up with it.”
Sam sighed.
“Thank you doctor.”
“If you have any more problems you know what I am son.”
Sam left the office and sat in the family area. He was so exhausted. He just wanted it all to go away, and he had a sneaking suspicion so did Dean.
