Monster (A Supernatural Fanfiction) [1]

Chapter 30: Broken Promises and Birthday Wishes

"You didn't have as many scars, I noticed. Just eight horizontal lines all strategically placed down your forearm. I wasn't sure if they were self-harm since there weren't many but then I found this." Dean held up the notebook. "And now I know what they mean. And I know that if we survive this, one more will be added in a few weeks."

Cassandra eyed the blade, the memory from the night before Carthage playing in her mind.

"Do you plan on doing it on January twenty-fourth?"

"Yes."

"Don't. For me. Whether I make it out of this alive or not, don't do it. I know that it's just a knick compared to what we get on the daily, but I'm asking you not to do it. Consider it a gift to me. That's all I want. January twenty-fourth, nineteen-seventeen-nine...my birthday," Dean whispered. "It's all I want."

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"I won't do it. If that's what you want then I won't do it. I promise."

January twenty-fourth. She had promised Dean she wouldn't do it; but she also made that promise when she didn't plan on ever seeing him again. She planned on dying that night or siding with Heaven. She didn't count on Bobby and Dean talking her into staying.

Cassandra could hear the door to the motel room open and she could register Sam's feet shuffling across the stained and dusty carpet. She could hear him set down his water bottle and she could hear him turn on his phone to check for any messages.

The Nephilim had two choices in that moment: abide by Dean's wishes and her promise, or continue on with her unfortunate tradition. Her gaze shifted around the bathroom before dropping back to the blade, her wrist facing the ceiling. Without a second thought, Cassandra dragged the blade across her pale wrist, tearing open her skin and reopening a small bit of the suicide attempt scar. Tears pricked at the corner of her eyes when she saw just how deep she had cut. She didn't realize her own strength. The line was straight; perfect.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts and her head snapped towards the flimsy piece of wood. "Cassandra, are you almost done?" Sam asked, his ear pressed against the door. She stayed silent, desperately trying to control her voice before answering. She couldn't even open the door without Sam knowing what she had done. The blood seeped from the open wound, slowly forming a small puddle onto the tiled floor. Sam knocked again upon hearing her silence. "Cassandra?"

"Give me a minute," she called back, cringing when her voice cracked. It was clear that she had been crying. Sam furrowed his eyebrows and leaned against the door.

"You okay?"

Cassandra didn't answer in fear of breaking down again. Instead she grabbed a washcloth from the rack and pressed it down on her wrist in an attempt to stop the bleeding as she rushed around the small bathroom in a desperate attempt to clean up the mess she had made. She wasn't fast enough, though, because Sam opened the unlocked door, stopping abruptly at the sight of the blood on the floor. The blonde gasped and looked up, her eyes widening at Sam's presence.

"Sam," she choked out. Her gaze drifted over to Dean who continued to sleep soundly in the bed before she looked back to the younger Hunter. "It's not what it looks like. I—" Cassandra cut herself off. There was no point in even trying.

Sam glanced over his shoulder to make sure that Dean was still passed out on the bed before stepping further into the bathroom and shutting the door behind him. He crouched down to the Nephilim's level, grabbing her arm and pulling the washcloth away to take a look at it. Cassandra's gaze drifted up from the cut to his eyes and her heart dropped when she saw the disappointment. Sam scratched the back of his head as he studied it.