Driving Out Darkness

Chapter 14

Season: 6

Episode: Like a Virgin

Warnings: This episode line contains mentions of major depression and mental disorders such as eating disorders, paranoia etc. if this is a problem for you, please skip to when the intro displays another episode. A non-triggering summary will be included for you.

***

I told them everything. Absolutely everything. About how messed up I was when Sam was gone, how it lead to alcoholism of the third degree, many many begs for deals from demons and angels alike and eventually a month or so later to me in the motel room with an angel blade lined up with my chest as I prepared to ram it through and end it all. How I was stopped by an angel who I grew quite fond of, how we built an army to try and stop heaven. How Raphael caught word and killed what I'm assuming was every angel who was in my side. How Sam 'came back' (got his soul back) and how that somehow unleashed the floodgate of emotions that I've been suppressing for a year and a half and how that's lead me back to where I was in late '99. Neither of the boys said anything when I mentioned that. When I finished with that.

"Are you- um..." Sam tries to find the words, a pained expression on his face. I shake my head and sigh. "Though, if opportunity arose, I wouldn't... not take it. If that makes sense." I frown and look away. I was that fragile thing again. The thing that they didn't want to touch in fear they'd break and have to pay the store thousands to repair.

"Are you eating?" I hear Dean's pained voice say and I frown. Last time this happened it was a chore to eat, nothing had any taste and usually resulted in me throwing it up for a month before I got good.

"Not usually..."

"We'll start with that then. Do you trust yourself with a weapon?" He's back in big brother mode. Protector mode. Father mode. All the modes he had to be in when he was no more than twenty to make sure he wasn't burying his teenage sister beside his mother.

"Yeah..."

"Good. Then we're getting some grub in you and finishing this case. Gettin' that heart pumping will be good." He says, patting my back, then rubbing it, then pulling me in for a hug, kissing my forehead. "I'm happy you talked to us, MJ." He whispers before walking off to get me a no doubt greasy as all hell burger and fries. Dean Winchester's cure-all for when alcohol just wasn't the answer

I look up to Sam only to see him frowning into his lap. I too frown and look away from him, standing up and walking over to Dean's duffle to grab his bottle of whiskey. "Hey." I say as I sit back down with the bottle, unscrewing the lid. "Steal our big brother's drink like old times?" I suggest to try and lighten the mood, handing it to Sam to take the first sip. He looks at it for a long moment before giving in, taking a long hard swig.

"Woah, easy big boy, you're gonna feel that tomorrow." I smirk before taking the bottle from him and do a slightly larger swig than him. It was a challenge, of course, but I didn't mind if Sam didn't notice. There's obviously something going on in his mind and it's not all me. I could sense his abrasiveness before I spoke up after flying into the room.

"Yeah, yeah." He mutters and watches my every move as I sit the bottle down on the floor between us. "Mia, are you sure you're okay?" He asks, eyeing me carefully. No, my neck. That's when I realise that my now short hair doesn't do a good job at hiding the fading yellow bruise that, if Sam was to place his hand there, would match his print perfectly.

"I'm fine." I smile, only half fake. "I'm just PMS-ing hardcore and everything's been a shit storm." I was kind of joking, but there was a sense of seriousness in it. Sam can see it. He chuckles nervously and awkwardly.