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

A Disposable Camera

A bit of a shorty, but I kind of dig it. Thank you again for all of your support and love and comments! They make writing this super enjoyable and actually make me want to continue. 

I love you guys! <3 And if you ever need any help please text GO to 741741. It's a crisis text line and they're so nice and helpful. Always keep fighting and thanks again!

Casey sat and stared at the two half pills Sam had put on her desk. They were pale yellow and each a broken off oblong tab with pale insides showing. She made a face at them, knowing she had to take one. They both looked the same, but she couldn't help comparing them. Which one might be able to help her more? She knew they could help her equally. It just seemed like such a big deal, even though it obviously wasn't. She reminded herself that people take antidepressants all the time and it wasn't a bad thing. More often than not, it was a good thing. These tiny drugs could help her immensely. She needed to keep that in mind.

Sam was holding onto the bottle, which really pissed her off. She wasn't going to off herself the first chance she got. She'd asked her brothers for help for a reason. She didn't want to want to die, it was just a thing that was happening that she needed some assistance with. She wasn't a danger to herself or anything, but what made them hesitant was that she wasn't a danger to herself or anything yet. They'd taken the steak knives away again, but left the butter knives as some symbol that they still trusted her at least a little bit. And she still got her two hours of alone time as long as she kept her door open. She'd been extremely relieved to hear these permissions- she thought they were going to go full lock  down on her again, especially with the alone time she'd worked so hard to achieve. They must have understood, though, that not trusting her at all would seriously hurt her feelings, primarily because she'd come to them before she did anything rash. She hadn't even self harmed in fifty-one days, a record she was extremely proud of. She was even more proud of it because she'd been feeling so crappy and depressed lately and still hadn't resorted to it, although there had been a couple close calls.

There'd been one day when she'd been particularly bored and her thoughts had been eating her alive. She'd started searching around her room after a while for something, anything, to draw the tiniest bit of blood and cause the tiniest bit of pain to get the relief she'd been so desperate for. But before she'd found it, she found a picture of her and Dean and Sammy standing in front of a lake. It had been one of the few times they'd actually taken a day off and went camping for two nights. They'd asked some stranger to take it on a disposable camera and printed it off at a drugstore a couple weeks later. It was the only picture Casey had been adamant about keeping in her room. Looking at her and her brothers smiling like that, it made her feel warm. She couldn't disappoint them again, so she dropped the photo on her pillow and ran out of her room and into Dean's surprised arms, crying.

The other time she'd been feeling perfectly fine for the most part, until she'd gone to the bathroom. Dean had left his electric shaver on the counter. Casey wondered if it had been left there as a test or something, but quickly remembered that they wouldn't do anything that could cause her any injury, intentional or otherwise. Both of them had been so diligent about keeping those things hidden from her it was a shock to have seen one for the first time in months. And it was extremely tempting. Sure, they'd allowed her a razor to shave her legs and armpits recently with the condition she had a body check immediately after getting dressed after her shower. But they'd dropped the body checks to twice a week at that point and she'd had one earlier in the day, more than enough time for her to make something shallow and have it almost healed within the next four days. If she placed it strategically it would also pretty much blend in with other scars. Or, if she was feeling really impulsive, she could create something deep and claim it was some sort of accident. That would be hard to accomplish, though. An electric razor didn't exactly make for anything deep easily. She would also have to break it and dismantle it to get something successful enough- and that was if there was truly anything worth the effort in there, and there was a high chance there wasn't. She knew that some treatment centers even allowed electric razors because they didn't consider them enough of a danger to ban. Was it really worth the effort? And if she was caught, was it worth the disappointment and the massive amounts of trust loss? She'd be back to every other day body checks and watching the fear in her brothers' eyes when they watched her do anything again, which was what hurt the worst. More importantly, she knew she was stronger than that. After she'd been fighting this for how long? If she could fight it then, couldn't she fight it now? She decided she could and, with great effort, walked out of the bathroom to find some other place to pee. She did notice, though, that later in the day the razor was gone. Neither of the brothers said anything.

So, if she took this little half a pill, would the urge go away? She knew the answer was no, but it might make it a little bit easier to fight. It might make her feel less like crap. And, honestly, would it really hurt her?

Before she had the chance to change her mind, she cracked open the water bottle Sam had left besides the med and popped one of the halves into her mouth, swallowing it quickly to avoid the bitter taste lingering on her tongue. She set the bottle down as soon as the flavor was completely washed away and stared at the other half. She grinned. That wasn't so bad. It wasn't even a whole pill. She hardly even registered it as it went down. It was kind of badass, wasn't it? To fight everything sick in her brain that was telling her to flush it down the toilet and then take it anyway. It was badass. She was still too embarrassed to tell her brothers about how proud she was of herself, but her smile remained, wide as ever, as she walked out of her room.