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

Three minutes? That's it?

And with that, Castiel was gone. Casey smiled to herself. He was so pure. She keyed Baby's ignition and set back toward the house party.

As she drove by the Hamill Hansen building, where the infamous sub basement was, she saw her floppy haired, giant of a brother leaning against a spotlight, pretending to be occupied in his phone, but Casey knew he was keeping an eye out for sneaking students. Casey pulled up beside him, rolled down the window, and, in a deep and masculine voice, said, "Hey, miss, you looking for a good time?"

Sam looked up and raised his eyebrow. Casey smiled widely at his unamused look. "Took you long enough." He climbed in the passenger seat and shoved his phone back in his pocket. "People started leaving in packs, then a lot of trashed couples, so it was more efficient to stand out here and keep an eye on the door rather than thirty kids at a time."

"Where's Dean?"

"Where do you think?"

Casey grimaced. "Ick." Sam shrugged. "Should we leave him?"

"He'll call when he wants a ride, I'm sure. Or figure out his own way back. We should stay for a while longer in case any more come, but they've pretty much all cleared out by now." Sam and Casey swapped seats and talked in the car for nearly ten minutes when they saw a young pair slip past them, laughing and shushing each other, before rounding the corner of the Hamill Hansen building and disappearing. Casey looked at Sam, who sighed and pulled out his phone and began to dial Dean.

The phone was about to hit voicemail by the time Dean answered in a growl, "Somebody better be dying, Sammy." Casey made a face and Sam smirked, enjoying the fact that he'd interrupted his brother's latest extracurricular.

"Not yet, which is why we're calling. Case and I are heading in. Can you meet us in the basement?"

There was a silence, then the muffled whine of a girl, which made Casey want to die, before Dean said he'd be there in three minutes and hung up. Sam and Casey hopped out of the car and cranked open the trunk, then the hidden compartment. Looking into the trunk was like a breath of fresh air. She never knew that it could feel so good to look at a complete store of knives, machetes, guns, and holy water. Most people would be horrified, but it felt like stepping into a childhood home and seeing beloved objects she hadn't glimpsed in half a lifetime, even though it'd only been a couple weeks. Casey picked up a sawn off, admiring the familiar feel of the worn, well loved wood handle and enjoying the way the barrel was darkened with frequent use and age. She loaded it with a few heavy salt rounds and shoved some more in her pocket as a back up.

Sam was busy packing his own gun and had already shoved a canister of salt and a tire iron into his backpack. He looked at his baby sister, completely oblivious to him and relaxing in her own world. It was almost endearing the way she was looking at the old gun, if he ignored her history. She was cradling like it was her child and he might take it away at any second, and he honestly did want to. He was nervous seeing her with something so dangerous. Knowing that, at any second, she could point the barrel to herself and... Sam couldn't finish the thought. He refused to think of Casey like that. She was in pain, but she would never do that. She couldn't. He picked up a knife. Half the blade was serrated and the other half perfectly smooth. Casey's dagger was in the trunk, but he didn't think he'd be able to bring himself to letting her even see it again. God knew how often it'd hurt her. She could use one of Dean's old knives. He'd prefer she didn't use one at all, but she needed something to protect herself, and salt rounds wouldn't cut it against something that was actually corporeal.

"Casey," he started, pulling her attention into real life. She forced her eyes off the gun and looked at her brother, concern saturating his face as he held a knife in a beaten leather sheath. Sam swallowed dryly and looked up at his sister into her wide, green eyes. "Casey, I need this back when we're done here. But please be careful with it, alright? You can't hurt yourself again. Just... be safe, okay?"

It hurt her heart seeing Sam so worried. She'd never meant to hurt him. It was finally her chance to make it right. He was giving her a knife, he was giving her trust. Casey couldn't take that for granted. She was going to redeem herself to her big brothers.

"I'll be good, Sammy. I promise."

Dean rounded the corner to see Sammy passing Casey a knife and stopped mid-step. Could she handle that? Sam obviously thought so, and Casey had been more open with him than anyone else. And they would take it back at the end of the hunt, and he'd be damned if he left her alone for a single minute with a murderous ghost, so she'd hardly have the opportunity to slip up. Dean held his breath and began walking again, playing it cool.

"I thought you were supposed to be in the basement by now," he taunted.

Casey took the knife casually and tucked it in her waistband. "We had to wait for you to put some pants on. We figured it was manners. I knew your game was weak, but wow, Dean. Three minutes is all it takes? That's it?"

Dean put a palm on her head and lightly shoved it away. "Shaddup." Casey grinned at the familiar gesture, glad he wasn't dancing around her like she was some doll. He grabbed his own can of salt and jammed a regular handgun in his belt, filled another with rock salt and shut the trunk. "Are you guys ready for this?"

"We should probably hurry. They've already been down for a couple minutes." They rounded to the side of the building where they kids disappeared and tugged on a door, hardly expecting it to open. Sam pulled out his lock picking kit then paused. "What's the likelihood of this being an emergency exit?" he wondered out loud.

Casey shrugged. "Probably pretty high." He sighed and tucked the tools away.

"Hey," Dean called from the end of the building, motioning them over. He was standing over a basement window that was half opened and they could hear the voices of two young people a ways away from them. Casey made a gagging sound and Dean turned and wiggled his eyebrows at her. "Sounds like they're really trying to catch themselves a ghost." She curled his lip at him. He slowly pulled the window out the rest of the way and turned to Casey. "You fit in that?" he whispered. Casey nodded. Dean considered for a second, then shook his head. "Nah, I don't want you going in alone. We'll find a different way."

"Dean!" she yelled, louder than intended and prompting a shhh from Sam. She ignored him mostly, but did speak a little lower. "Dean, I know I'm not that old or strong or whatever your holdup is, but I can sneak in, disable the alarm and let you guys in. It'll take two minutes, tops." Her brothers looked at each other and did their annoying eye-talking thing. She could tell they weren't entirely convinced. "You guys," she pulled their attention back, "we don't have time to find another plan. It sounds like they're already pretty far into things. We need to go." Dean huffed but motioned her in. She looked at Sam, who's eyes were worried but supportive, then climbed in.