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You have been hunting with the boys since they found you in an abandoned building when you were eighteen. They were on a hunt looking for a family of vampires, and you were their blood bank for several days.
That was five years ago, since then you and Dean had developed a relationship. Luckily Sam doesn't mind, he looked at you as a sister anyways.
But lately you and Dean had drifted apart even further, you see, you have been pushing him away lately, you won't let him touch you, or even see you, and any time you got intimate with him, they lights would be off. You have been hiding a secret from the boys for years and it has gotten worse these past few months. When the boys first found you they thought the endless scars on your arms and legs were from the vampires cutting you open to feed, and you weren't about to tell these strangers that you had done that yourself. It was the reason those blood thirsty sons of bitches found you in the first place. They had smelt your blood passing through your town and ransacked your house, taking everyone inside.
The memories of that night haunt your dreams, you wake up sweating and panting in the middle of the night, seeing your parents dying in front of your very eyes, all because you decided to slash your flesh one night.
You and Dean use to sleep together but since you have been pushing him away he had been sleeping in a separate room. You missed sleeping with him, he was always there to comfort you when you would wake up screaming, but you couldn't bare giving him anymore sleepless night. Not to mention the way he looked at you hurt. So instead you slept alone and your blade became your comfort yet again.
To the vampires, you were there favorite, their, 'kinky little human'; so they would call you. They had never witnessed a person cut their own skin before, they even made you do it, and they would watch you in awe, like you were someone performing in a Freak Show; and you hated it. But after a month of doing it consistently for them, you were hooked. You continued well after Dean and Sam took you in, and you made sure that you were careful. You kept blades in your bag of tampons, a place those boys never dared to look. They never questioned the fact that you wore jeans and long sleeved flannels during the summer, because well, they do the same thing, so they just assumed you were trying to fit in with them. Little did they know you are being held hostage by the memories of those days and the never ending craving to slice away at your skin.
But your oh so careful actions were wearing thin, you had been becoming more and more numb with depression, cutting deeper than you had even with the vampires. It scared you, but you weren't about to go to Dean or Sam about it. How could you let them know what you had been doing to yourself for the past five years? How could you show them your wounds while looking into Deans emerald green and Sam's big hazel puppy-dog eyes? They would be hurt, and you know that. So you keep it to yourself despite the fact that you knew how dangerous you have become to yourself.
On this particular night you and the boys had just gotten back from a hunt involving werewolves. They took the wolves out quickly and before you knew it you were back at the bunker, cozy and asleep in your bed, that is until the nightmares began.
The vampires were backing you into a corner, eyes full of hunger, and teeth razor sharp, laughing and yelling at you as they moved in closer. The scene quickly changed and you were in the abandoned warehouse, your mother is screaming as the two of your watch your father being finished off. Your wrists were bleeding and cut from attempting to break free of the metal clasps around them but it was to tight, you couldn't slip your hand through.
"Stop please!" you pleaded.
But all they told you was that you brought this upon yourself if you didn't open your skin you wouldn't be here and it was all your fault.
--
You woke up trying not to scream, your whole body was shaking and you looked around your dark room in a panic. You just want the dreams to stop, despite the fact that you think you deserved it. You did get your parents killed after all.
You got out of bed wearing nothing but your underwear shorts and an over sized black T-shirt, something you NEVER wore around Dean. You flicked the light on and took out your favorite blade. You had to cut, you just....had to.
The adrenaline was pumping through your veins as you shakily pressed the blade to a patch of clean skin. Despite how long you had been doing it, you still got worked up and scared.
You closed your eyes and pressed it against your skin harder, ripping it across your arm, going over the same spot a few times before you worked your way up your arm. You felt the warm sticky liquid drip off the sides of your arm and onto your thigh, along with small sounds of splatting as it hit the wood floor. You were always so scared to open you eyes and see what you have done, so opening them this time, knowing it was bad made your stomach twist and turn.
Slowly you opened your eyes and looked at your arm, gasping and eyes going wide when you had seen the wound. It was an inch wide, and you began to panic. Your heart thudded against your chest hard and you could feel the blood drain from your face as you slowly got up. Tears were streaming down your face now and you could feel your body wanting to collapse to the ground. You are scared shitless. You don't want to die, but you can't tell the boys. You just...can't. Its clear that you need stitches and you don't even know if you had hit anything serious. So your slowly open your door and creep out into the dark hallway. You moved quick, but not to quick because you felt ill, and if you went any faster you will throw up. You could feel the blood puddle move down your leg and to your bare foot as your arm dripped all over the floor, you knew you were going to have a lot of cleaning to do.
Just as you tuned the corner you bumped smack into Dean, "Whoa, Y/N what are you doing up?" He asked, it was very dark and he couldn't see the wound or the tears in your eyes as he grabbed your hand where the wound was.
"I really have to pee." You stated before releasing his grip and running off towards the bathroom.
Dean watched your run and shrugged. He went to his bedroom too tired to feel the wet red liquid soaking into his socks. When he got into his room he turned the light on and saw blood on his hand. He looked down and saw some of it was on his pants and his socks had a large amount of blood on it.
Meanwhile,
You ran out of the bathroom quickly to grab a small flashlight, before running back into it. You place the flashlight in your mouth, one, to see inside of the wound better, you could have hit something and the crappy light in the bathroom isn't doing any good, and two to bite down on something because of what you are about to do.
You turn on the water in the sink and shove your arm under it, cleaning out the wound, you silently scream and grunt in pain as you bite harder on the mini flashlight, shining it on the wound, luckily you didn't hit anything. You place the light down just as you heard someone walking forwards.
Dean turned on the hallway light and looked at the blood scattered along the floor, "What the hell?" he mumbled to himself as he followed the trail.
You jumped at the loud knock on the bathroom door, "Y/N" he called, and you didn't answer, you couldn't. The absence of you reply caused him to break the door down and rush in.
You stared at him in shock, not knowing what to do as his eyes scanned down and settled on your arm.
"What the hell!" He shouted moving towards you, "What happened?" he asked as he took your arm, scanning over it closely, realizing you did this yourself. "Y/N, you-you did this to yourself?" He asked looking up at you wit pleading eyes but you didn't dare to look back at him, "Y/N" he said louder, "Talk to me, please." He bit out.
You look back at him with tears in your eyes, "I'm sorry..." you mumbled.
He looked away and back down at your arm, "You need stitches." He said quietly.
"I know." You replied, you felt like such shit, your stomach hurt and your heart pounded with anxiety.
"Come on." he said pulling you up and onto your feet. "We will talk about this later."
--
Dean took out his first aid kit and had you sit on the couch, you could see the pain in his eyes and it made you hate yourself more than you already did.How could you put him through this? How could you put yourself through this?
You watched Dean take a mixture of distilled water and cleaning fluid, 'God not again.' you thought as he took you arm and rested it over a bucket. When he began to flush out the wound you bit out in pain causing him to stop suddenly and looking at you, "I don't feel bad if it hurts." He said bluntly before he began pouring the rest.
You know he has no reason to feel bad, you deserved the pain, all of it.
Dean took out a pre-sterilized needle and then suture thread. “Okay try to stay calm this is going to hurt.” You nodded and looked away from the wound, if you looked at it any longer you would faint.
Dean stuck the needle under you skin and pulled it out the other side. He then took the the clamps to hold one side of the thread while she knotted it three to five times. He repeated this step fifteen more times. It hurt, actually it more than hurt, it had been worse than making the actual wound. Several times during the process you had almost passed out because of the pain, but Dean made sure you stayed awake.
After he had finished he poured alcohol on it, you bit out in pain and pulled your arm away.
"I'll be right back. Don't think you're getting away with this."
You nodded and rested your head against the arm rest of the couch, you were just about to fall into deep sleep when you felt the cushion next to you sink down, Dean had sat next to you. He nudged you shoulder and you sat up, surprised when he handed you a mug of hot cocoa, it has marshmallows in it and smelt like peppermint. You took it from him slowly, unable to look directly at him.
"Y/N." His voice was low and soft.
You took a sip, smiling slightly when you recognized the familiar burn of alcohol, peppermint schnapps.
Dean knew that was your favorite. "Maybe he is trying to make up for his earlier comments.' you think.
"Yeah?" You asked looking at him.
"Why?" That's all he said, in the flattest tone you have ever heard him speak in the last five years, and it honestly took you off guard.
Why?
The one question you had been trying to avoid for such a long time, you hid it from them to keep that goddamn question from slipping out of peoples mouths. You barely even knew why. The reason started from being bullied and turned into your comfort blanket to deal with your parents death. And how could you tell Dean that was the reason, for gods sake he lost his parents too, and he is so much stronger than you are, and you know it.
"Because."
That was all you could say, and it was so goddamn stupid. You know it is going to piss Dean off, so why did you let it slip out?
"Because?" He snapped. "That's not a goddamn answer. Talk to me." He demanded.
"How can I talk to you!" You snapped back.
You bit at your lower lip when you came to realize that you had just snapped back at you boyfriend, who was only trying to understand, but you couldn't stop. You couldn't shut up.
"You wouldn't understand! You don't know how satisfying it is to carve out your skin just to get a piece of mind you never had!" You screamed at him, "I watched them kill my parents! I should be the one dead not them Dean! Me! Me! Me!"
"Hey don't say that!" he yelled at you.
"Don't say that?" You mimicked, "How can I not say that? I cut myself, they smelt the blood, and they came and took us! If I hadn't...." you tried to fight back the tears but it was no use, "They said if they didn't smell my blood, they wouldn't have came, that-that it's all my fault! And it is Dean! It's all my fault!" You broke down crying, putting the mug down and burring your face into your hands, "Dean I killed my parents, I deserve to feel pain. I deserve to die."
You couldn't see this, but the way Dean was looking at you was the kind of look that could rip anyone apart from the inside out. What you told him, it broke him, the very thing you feared happening was becoming a reality, and you weren't brave enough to look up and see it.
Dean didn't fight back, in stead he pulled you close, wrapping his arms around you and you reluctantly curled into him, resting your head on his chest. Your eyes burned from crying and you ears rung from yelling.
"I love you." Dean said softly. "And I care about you."
"Promise me you won't do this anymore."
Oh god, you knew it was coming...that promise. There it was. The famous promise that would always be broken, no matter who was making you become loyal to it.
"I can't." you murmured.
"Then try, for me." He said kissing the top of your head, "Will you try, for me?" He asked.
And you nodded.
"Then give me your blades."
"Dean no...." You said pulling away to look at him.
You could tell he was becoming frustrated, and you watched in shock as he pulled up his sleeve, "Then cut me."
"What?" You asked eyes wide with shock.
"If you're going to hurt yourself, then hurt me. Cut me instead!"
"Dean no, I'm not going to cut you!" You bit out.
"Why? I already feel like you have! When you hurt yourself your hurting me too!"
"Dean..."
" If you want to cut someone, then cut me! Because that's how I feel when you are doing it to yourself!"
You stared at him in shock. Dean was right, you weren't only hurting yourself, but hurting him too, and hurting him is your biggest fear.
"I keep them in my bag, in my room." You said quietly.
"Okay." Dean said softly. "Thank you." He said cupping your face gently before he kissed you softly. "I love you."
"I know. I love you too." Dean stood up and pulled you up with him, "Let's go to sleep, no more sleeping alone....okay?" He said walking you to his bedroom. "I miss sleeping with you."
You looked up at him confused, you thought it was a burden to sleep together, "Why? You barely sleep when we're together."
"So?" He asked, "I am your boyfriend. I want to sleep with you in my arms."
"Even though I have night terrors?" You asked.
"Yes, even though you have night terrors." he repeated.
He pulled you into his bed and wrapped you up into his arms, "Don't be afraid, I am here." He said planting kisses along your neck.
"I won't be, not anymore."