Chapter Text
The room was completely bare. Everything was white, except from the dull metal bed frame in the centre of the room. The bed was the only furniture, Sam knew that this was probably for the best, but it still felt so constricting.
“You’ll be ok” Dean says from the doorway, where he is guarded by two giant men dressed in white.
“I know, but I’m scared De’”
“Trust me little brother, this is for the best”
It hit Sam then that Dean was really leaving him in this place. This white hell, where the cleanliness of it all hurt his eyes and everyone spoke in riddles that were supposed to make you ‘dig deep inside yourself’. It was his own fault he was in this place anyway, but if only Dean hadn’t turned up at Stanford when he did.
---
Sam was slouched on the sofa, staring at the ceiling, everything was so numb, and it was so peaceful. So blissful. He couldn’t hear Jess shouting at him from the doorway to their living room, he couldn’t feel the remote digging into his lower back. All he could feel and hear was his breathing, in and out, in and out, repeated over and over again. This small movement is what kept him alive, and this thought sent Sam into fits of loud booming laughter, that made Jess look less angry and more worried. It was the middle of the night but it could have been the middle of the day for all Sam cared. Sam had fallen into the wrong crowd at Stanford. Well that’s how everyone phrased it, but Sam thinks they’re wrong. Some of his best memories are with the people that supposedly ‘ruined his life’. It was all his choice though. No one forced him to pick up the needle and push it into his veins; no one told him that he loved the feeling, that for the first time in his life he felt ok again. That was all him, he had been warned countless times about heroin, but everyone makes mistakes.
Sam just kept making them over and over again every time he would push the needle into his veins and feel like the world was a better place.
This is how Dean found him the night he came to tell his little brother that dad hadn’t been home in a few days. Sprawled across the couch, eyes dead barely even human. Jess had retreated up the stairs crying and had turned out the lights in the hope that Sam would just sleep. Not that Sam had even noticed the lights were on in the first place.
At first Dean thought Sam was dead, his heart had almost stopped when he had crept into the living room, beer in hand. But he noticed the slight movements of Sam’s chest rising and falling, telling Dean that he was still breathing. It hadn’t been long after that that Dean noticed there was something severely wrong with his brother.
“Sam” he had called quietly at first, snapping his fingers in front of his face, trying desperately to get his attention.
“Sam
Sam
SAM!” Dean had shouted until he noticed Jessica standing in the doorway watching Dean closely with a baseball bat clutched tightly in her hands.
“What’s wrong with him” Dean had motioned wildly towards his brother and Jess had just shaken her head slightly and sighed.
“High”
And that’s when Dean noticed the needle marks on his little brother’s arm and he almost lost it.
---
In the morning, when Sam had woken up, Dean was sitting at the end of the sofa, drinking another beer.
“Morning Sammy” he grunted, barely able to conceal his anger towards the youngest Winchester.
“Dean, what are you doing here?” Sam asked, sitting bolt upright in surprise.
“Doesn’t matter why I’m here anymore, what does matter is what I saw last night”
Sam hung his head, unable to look into his brother’s eyes. So Dean had seen, it felt like Sam’s world had shattered into two pieces. On the one hand he loved his brother, but on the other he also loved the drugs. In that moment he couldn’t decide which one was more important.
“Yeah, it um it was only once I was just trying it” he lied to Dean, hoping he would just give him the benefit of the doubt this time.
“Sorry Sam don’t believe you, more inclined to believe your girlfriend over there” he motioned to Jess who had appeared behind Dean, “who tells me that you are, what was the word, oh yeah, a freaking junkie! What were you thinking Sam!”
Sam just sat there, he really wanted to be high, to feel the nothingness. To be oblivious to his brother and the anger that was directed at him.
“Oh so what, you just going to sit there, thinking about getting more drugs are we Sam? Want to shoot up again yeah?”
Sam’s eyes widened, it was like Dean had read his mind.
“Thought so, lucky for you I’m here and I’m going to do something about the mess you have made with your life”
“What you gonna do Dean” he half slurred “chain me to the house?” he was on a comedown and everything had just started to blur and melt together. Since when had the lights been so bright he had thought as he covered his eyes with his hands.
“Oh no little brother, I’m going to do one better, I called around this morning since I didn’t have anything better to do and there is a free space at the local rehab clinic”
“Shit” Sam mumbled as he rubbed his temples, eyes still glued shut, but he knew if he opened them then he would cry. He had disappointed his brother yet again and now Dean thought he was just a stupid little kid. Worse than that though was that Dean was betraying Sam by signing him up to go and live with some strangers in what was basically a nut house.
---
As Sam sat down on the bed in the empty room, tears stinging at the back of his eyes. He angrily wipes them away with the back of his hand before they can emerge; crying is a weakness and won’t get him anywhere.
---
“Maybe I should just take him with me, sober him out myself” Dean hastily speaks to the two guards after they shut Sam’s door, but it wasn’t until they double lock it with a key from huge ring that he realises what a mess he had made.
“Look, my brother can just come with he’ll be fine” he tries to assure the guards,
“Just let him co-“ he is cut off by the guard on his right who is built like a mountain, although Dean still reckoned he could take this guy in a fight if needs be.
“Have you ever been around anyone recovering from a heroin addiction?”
Dean shakes his head reluctantly,
“These people get real desperate real fast, they will do anything to get there hands on another hit, and then another and another until it kills them. They will deceive you and lie; you might not even notice what’s happened until it’s too late. If you want your brother to be alright then leave him here, it’s for the best.”
With this he pushes Dean into the lobby and walks away, leaving Dean feeling more alone than he’s ever felt. In this moment he’s torn, find dad or stay with Sammy, who is more important to him?
---
Sam looks around the room again for anything to occupy his mind, but it’s just the bed. There are not even any windows; it feels too much like a prison for Sam to relax so he paces around the room, counting each step. 10 paces from the door and he reaches the opposite wall, 10 paces from the right wall to the left wall. He quickly runs out of places to walk to so he sits in the corner and counts the seconds until he next sees a person.