I Really Messed Up, Guys: A Supernatural Self Harm Fic

That's Textbook, Sweetheart

Neither of them moved. Nothing moved, not even their eyelids. It was almost creepy, in a way. They were completely still and it was beginning to piss her off. She knew it’d only been maybe two seconds since she’d dropped that bomb on them, but she needed love, not Madame Tussaud’s. The building anxiety and tension in the room probably didn’t do too much to help her irritation either, though. It hurt knowing that she’d been brave enough to say what was truly bothering her, but her brothers couldn’t seem to find the balls to say anything at all.

        Sam needed to say something. Casey was obviously waiting, and it was most likely hurting her that he and Dean hadn’t said anything yet since her confession. But… holy crap. That was a shock he hadn’t been expecting. And it disgusted him to know that he would have rather her come out and tell him she’d hurt herself again than have said that she was suicidal. Suicidal was a whole different ballpark, one that he didn’t have too much play time in, thankfully. But that meant he didn’t know what to do or say. This was foreign territory. It had been a long fifteen seconds though and he hadn’t even twitched a finger. He could see in her face that she was immediately regretting her decision to talk to them. He couldn’t blame her. They were sitting there, dead silent, like a couple of idiots. He had to say something.

        “Did you- did you hurt yourself?” Dean asked cautiously, breaking the silence. Sam sent up a silent thank you that Dean had come to the rescue of this terribly awkward moment.

        Casey shook her head. “No. I didn’t hurt myself. I’m clean.” Sam wanted to check her arms and legs, but he didn’t want her to feel as though she wasn’t trusted. He trusted her immensely even though, considering the circumstances and the current conversation, he was worried about her on a level that was almost nauseating. He elected not to check. The subject was too touchy and he didn’t want to push her away when she obviously needed to be kept close.

        “Do you feel like you’re a danger to yourself?” Dean sounded like he was reading from a textbook and Sam wondered where he’d learned to ask these questions.

        Casey folded in on herself, crossing her arms across her chest and pulling her shoulders tight. She looked at the floor. “No,” she said, almost inaudibly. “I don’t- I’m not.”

        “What are you thinking right now?” Casey shrugged and hugged herself tightly. “Case Face?”

        “I’m scared,” she admitted.

Sam could tell by her tone that she was close to crying. “Why are you scared, honey?” he piped in. He needed to make sure she knew that Dean wasn’t the only one who had her back. He was there too. She didn’t say anything and Sam realized that she was probably scared of them. That hurt, but he understood. She’d just made herself completely vulnerable, open to whatever judgement or condemnation they could throw at her. She knew that anything they said could tear her to pieces if they felt like it, and it was a scary feeling. “Case, we love you. We aren’t mad. You don’t need to be afraid of us.” Sam stood and pulled out the chair next to him. Casey hesitated and eyed the chair suspiciously, as though she wasn’t entirely sure she should continue with the conversation, but she sat in it stiffly a moment later.

“Sweetheart, why are you feeling this way, huh? What’s got you so down that you… that you’re feeling so bad?” Dean couldn’t bring himself to say that you want to kill yourself. Those words would not come out of his mouth. Not about his baby sister, no way no how. It might be how she was feeling, but he couldn’t think about the definition of the word ‘suicidal’ without wanting to throw up right now. Casey shrugged. She still wouldn’t look either of them in the eye and it was starting to bug him. She had these beautiful green eyes, and he wanted to see them and make sure she could see in his and Sammy’s faces that she was loved more than any other kid sister in the world. “That’s not an answer.”