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

Deal?

"It doesn't matter if it's going to 'work for you'. It's what's happening." Dean gave her a stern look.

Casey pushed his hand off her shoulder and slid further away from Sam. "No, it's not. You're being ridiculous. I don't need this suicide watch crap, and even if I did, we're hunters. You can't hide everything like that. What if something happens? Salt can't protect us from everything. Are you going to pad the walls too?" Casey stood up as she spoke and put her hands on her hips. She was stringy and young and sometimes that made it difficult for Dean to take her seriously, but he could tell she was furious this time. There was a fire in her eyes he hadn't seen lately. It made him realize that maybe there were signs of her depression and he just hadn't noticed them. It put a surge of guilt through his gut that made him feel nauseous.

"We aren't padding the walls, Casey. This is just temporary." Sam tried to put on a reassuring voice with a comforting smile, but if looks could kill, the one Casey shot him would have decapitated him faster than a katana on a vamp

"Temporary? How long is temporary, Sammy? Until you guys decide I'm not crazy anymore?" she hissed.

"Case, you aren't crazy. You're going through a rough time. We just want to help," he insisted. He grabbed onto her hand in an attempt to have her sit back down, but she ripped it away and held it to her chest.

"Did you read that from a magazine? What to say to your cutter sister? I don't need help. I need to be left alone. I'll talk to you guys if I'm not okay, alright?" Casey was angry. She couldn't believe her brothers were pulling this crap? They never hid the whiskey from Dean. Lord knew Sammy had his own personal fountain of demon blood, and that addiction was way worse than a little self harm. It started the freakin' apocalypse. She knew she'd just slept for what must have been over twelve hours, but Casey wanted to go back to bed more than anything. She wanted to be left alone. She knew her brothers had a reason for freaking out and going all Girl, Interrupted on her, but she couldn't help but feel betrayed. They didn't trust her anymore. That hurt.

"Why didn't you talk to us before then?" Sam asked calmly.

She felt tears well up in her eyes. "Because I didn't want you guys to think I was crazy! I have brothers that love me and a home now and I love what we do and we help people but I'm never happy so I turned to this! I don't even have a reason to be unhappy- I just am. And you guys always have so much crap going on. I'm just the little sister that tags along and I didn't want to get in the way again. You guys fixed the world again and again and I can't even handle a little sadness without this." Casey shoved her arms at Sam's face. Sam cringed even though they were clean. The memory of his little sister covered in her own wounds would never leave his head. Casey sobbed and her tears began to fall as she lowered her arms again. "I didn't want you to think I was crazy," she mumbled, softly lowering herself onto the far side of the couch before wrapping her arms around her torso and crying quietly.  

Sam wanted to slide next to Casey and pull her tight into his arms, then thought better of it. There were types of vulnerable that needed touch and there were types of vulnerable that needed space. Sam was pretty sure this was the latter.

"Casey, we don't think you're crazy. You've seen the stuff we do- crazy doesn't even begin to cover it. We think that you need help," Sam said gently.

Dean sat back in his chair and leaned forward with his elbows on his knees. "We just don't want to see this happen anymore, kiddo. This ain't forever. We'd all go crazy if we had to stop hunting for good. This is so we can figure out what to do next and how to prevent this from happening again," he assured her with a half smile that she caught as she looked up from her toes.

"And the stuff will obviously come back. It's just going to be out until we can figure out what causes these urges and some better ways to handle them," Sam explained. He had a remorseful look on his face, but she could tell he was only doing what he thought was best, even though she found it completely moronic.

She considered their promises for a few seconds before speaking. "Only for a little while?"

Sam nodded. "Only for a little while."

"Then we can start hunting again?" She wasn't going to leave room for any of his law school loopholes. Her brothers were famous for lying without lying, and she wasn't having that this time around.

"Then we can start hunting again," Sam repeated.

"And I can have my knives back?" she questioned slowly.

Neither brother said anything for a moment before Dean cleared his throat. "We're keeping the knives for now, but you can have them when we're hunting."

Casey began to argue, but then realized that was the best deal she was going to get. If she needed a knife in the middle of the night, her brother's rooms were right next door. If she really needed to, she supposed she could call Castiel too. "Fine," she sighed. A thought popped into her head then that shot her spine straight. "I'm keeping my curling iron. That isn't up for debate."

It was Sam's turn to sigh. "Casey...," he began.

Her head snapped to Sam's face. "No, Sammy. I'm keeping my curling iron. I have lost my privacy, my knives, and my hunting today. I'm keeping my curling iron, and that's that," she emphasized. They'd just gotten the ability to pamper themselves a little and she'd hustled pool and darts like a champion for weeks before she'd saved up enough extra cash for a curling iron. Having her hair done was her pride and joy. They were not taking that away from her.

"Casey, we don't want you to hurt yourself," Sam reminded her.

"Yeah, yeah. I know the party line. Do you really think I'd risk my curler for that though?"

Dean decided that did make sense. Sam started to speak, but he cut him off. "Sam." He fixed Sam with a look, then they started their strange brotherly silent communication that drove everyone else around them nuts. Sam was hesitant, but finally nodded Dean his silent agreement.

"You can have your hair curler-," Dean started.

"Yes!" Casey's face broke into a smile, but her celebration was halted when Dean held up his hand to signal his continuation.

"But, you have to get checked every other day. That means short sleeves around the bunker, stomach and leg checks every other. We aren't gonna make you strip down to your socks, but we're risking your curling iron, so those are your choices," he concluded.

Casey hopped up then spit in her hand and offered it out to Dean. "Deal."

Dean grimaced and rolled his eyes, but spit in his own hand and joined it with hers. "Deal."