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

Six Deaths

Hey guys!

Thank you for all the reads. This is fucking CRAZY. Thank you so, so much. Please keep commenting and voting!

This story is totally not over either. I've just been going through some shit right now that's been making it really hard to pull up the energy to write. I wanted to get in to the hunt in this chapter, but I didn't want to keep you all waiting any longer. Thank you for your patience!

This is mainly just a transitional chapter, so bear with me. I'm honestly kind of excited about writing this hunt! I've never done anything like it before so it might take a little while, but it's coming.

As always, if you need somebody to text because you're in crisis (about literally anything) text GO to 741741. The volunteers are amazing people! 

Thank you again!

Unlike any other time they were on a break, a case didn't pop up right away and crash the party. They'd been reading articles online and newspapers in diners within a hundred mile radius for a week and there still wasn't anything that looked even remotely like a case. They'd gone on hunts where there was hardly a clue of something going on and come out battered and bruised because of a vicious monster they hadn't even expected. But now there wasn't any, and Casey's patience was growing thin.

Casey was laying on the floor in Sam's room while he was supposedly searching for a case on his laptop, although she was pretty sure that he was catching up on other lore. She had suspicions that he was avoiding taking her on a hunt because he was still nervous there'd be repercussions. She let out an exaggerated sigh and rolled onto her stomach. The ground wasn't particularly comfortable, but the drama of an exhausted woman lying on the floor in perpetual impatience was too thick for her to pass up. She knew that it probably wouldn't help her cause, but there was no shame in trying. When Sam didn't respond to her sigh she huffed again. There was the quiet click of his laptop being shut.

"Yes, Casey?" he asked, unamused.

She rolled back over. "Sam, I am so bored. How is there no hunt anywhere remotely nearby? There's always something that needs to be hunted. It's why hunters are necessary. Supply and demand, or whatever."

Sam actually had been searching for hunts. He was worried about Casey. Staying stationary was what had let her to relapse before and he was worried that it might again, even though this time they weren't holed up because they were waiting on her progress. This time they were waiting for a reason to leave. She hadn't slipped again and had been honest when she was feeling sad or bad about herself, but people only had patience for so long. And everybody knew that the patience of a Winchester was about one thirtieth of the average human.

"There's nothing close. There's not anything within three hours of here," Sam said apologetically. He could see how hard staying still was for her. The restlessness in her face grew more and more prominent daily. She'd even gone on a few runs with him because she couldn't keep going how they'd been going for two weeks. She'd been caught in the library with a copy of Busty Asian Beauties, to which she replied, with a shrug, "I was curious" to Sam's horrified face. He couldn't begin to imagine the incognito search history on his laptop after he went to bed for the night without feeling nauseated. 

"Why can't we go to another state or something then? We do any other time," she suggested, even though she already knew the answer.

"In case if, for whatever reason, we need to stop the hunt and go home, we won't have too far to drive." For whatever reason was his polite way of saying if you can't handle the hunt or have another mental breakdown then they could quarantine her in the bunker again in a moment's notice.