Sam leaned his head against the wooden beams of the bannister rungs that ran across from the top step to the wall of the spare room a few feet down the hallway. Eyes closed, he listened as Mary, John and Dean all talked in the living room.
"Dean, you can't just keep ignoring him." He was the topic of their conversation.
"I don't know what to say to him." Dean responded. "What could I possibly say to him?"
Anything, Dean...I'd literally listen to you read the friggin' dictionary right now.
"Just try talking to him, he might open up to you more than he would to John and I."
Dean went to reply but was cut off by the sound of knocking.
Sam was shaking with nerves knowing exactly who was at the door. He had no idea how Bobby was going to respond when he inevitably found out what he'd done to himself. If he even wanted anything to do with him after he found out.
Answering it, Mary was surprised to see Bobby stood on the step.
"Hey, Bobby." She smiled. "We didn't know you were coming."
"Yeah well Sam rang me, and then I thought I'd come and pay you a visit." Bobby explained.
"Sam rang you?" It was almost an exclamation.
As she turned to glance at John and Dean, Bobby furrowed an eyebrow. "Am I missing something here?"
"Bobby, what did Sam tell you when he was on the phone?"
"That he was in the hospital for a while. I found out that he'd tried to ring a couple of times when he was in hospital, but I must've missed his calls."
Dean stood up from the couch and walked off. The sound of the back door opening and slamming shut could be heard before silence plagued the room.
"Something I said?" Bobby asked.
"No." John shook his head before sighing. "Bobby...there's something we need to tell you."
"What?" He didn't like the sound of this one bit.
"Sam..." John paused, clearly trying to find words.
The sound of creaking could be heard. John, Mary and Bobby all turned to see Sam stood at the top of the wooden stairs.
He was dressed in a dark red plaid shirt which could be seen hanging down below the hem of his too big, blue zip up hoodie. The oversized hoodie slid down over his wrists which seemed to be one of the reasons why Sam was wearing it so much.
"You okay, honey?"
Sam nodded before walking down the stairs.
"Hey, kid." Bobby smiled.
Sam smiled back, and honestly, it was one of the most beautiful thing Mary and John had seen in months. The sight of their little boy smiling brought hope that they were going to overcome this.
Bobby closed the gap between them and wrapped his arms around Sam.
Sam responded by hugging him back before they both pulled away.
"Everything okay, kid?" Bobby asked. "You said you'd been in hospital."
Sam nodded before turning to Mary and John. "Should I go find, Dean?"
"I can go if you want." John offered.
Sam shook his head. "He's upset because of me, I need to go."
John nodded at his youngest, knowing that he was probably the only one who actually stood a chance at getting through to Dean right now.
Sam walked off out the living room before heading out the door.
"So Sam rang you?"
Bobby nodded. "Tried to. It was only his last call that I was around to answer." He paused, knowing that there was something clearly left unsaid. "Why? Is everything okay?"
"It's getting better." Mary answered.
John took a deep breath. "Sam is suffering from depression. It wasn't so bad at first, but he just fell deeper and deeper until we felt it would be best if maybe he saw someone professional about it to see if they could help. We admitted Sam into a facility that dealt primarily with those suffering from depression...the facility had a two week settling in period where no visitors were allowed and no inwards calls could be made, only phone calls the patients made were allowed. Sam didn't contact us during the time he was in the facility, so we thought he was doing well..." He paused, taking another deep breath. "We got a call just over a week after he was admitted saying that they'd found him in one of the empty rooms of the ward...he'd slit his own wrists. The facilities visiting hours meant that we couldn't visit him until the next day, so the morning we went and took him out of there. We've been trying to get him to open up, but it's going slow. Which is understandable, but finding out that Sam has been calling you..." John smiled slightly. "...it's progress I suppose..."
Bobby felt sick. Sitting down in the armchair, his hands were shaking.
"He rang me from the facility didn't he?" He asked in a small voice.
"Didn't he?" Bobby's tone gained strength.
"It's looking like he did." John nodded.
Bobby took a deep breath. "The kid was scared and I missed his calls. I could've talked him out of it. I could have helped him. He could've..."
"Bobby...none of this is your fault. None of this is Sam's fault...it's something we have to deal with and move on." Mary stated softly. "We're helping Sam ourselves now, trying to show him that we're here for him and to listen if he wants to talk."
"Why would he call me?"
"Sam probably remembers back when they were younger and you looked after them. When I was being a dick, Sam probably made the association between you and safety. You looked after them and made sure they knew that nothing was gonna' happen to them and that they weren't going to be sent back to the group home. That could be why he called. He feels like you're not going to judge him, because you didn't then." John paused. "Sam was only ten when we found them, so he's grown up seeing you as someone who he knows will look after him and Dean. He probably associates me and Mary with the fact that they were taken from us. He connects that with not wanting to hurt us anymore, even though it wasn't their fault. Sam's shouldering so much guilt and pain at the moment, but no matter how many times we tell him that he doesn't need to be carrying it, he just nods. It's like he feels that he should be, which is what's stopping him from opening up to us."
Finding Dean sat amongst the endless rows of scrap cars out in the lot, Sam cautiously walked over, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.
"Dean..." He called softly.
"This is because I rang Bobby instead of you, Mary and John. I know that, and I'm sorry, just please don't be mad at me."
"I'm not mad at you, Sam." He answered.
"You sure?" Sam asked.
Sam didn't believe him. "Dean...please..." He practically begged, embarrassed by how pathetic he knew he sounded.
"What do you want me to say, Sam?" Dean asked.
"Nothing..." Came Sam's quiet response. "...doesn't matter." He walked off back to the house, leaving his older brother to his thoughts.
Walking inside, Sam saw Mary walk off upstairs and Bobby sat in the living room. He'd heard her and John nearly explain to Bobby what he'd done when he'd been stood at the top of the stairs, so there was no doubt that he knew now. He made his way into the living room.
"So you know then?"
Bobby turned to see Sam standing behind the couch.
Sam walked around and stood beside it.
Bobby nodded, getting to his feet as he did so.
"It was stupid. I shouldn't have done it."
"Nothing that serious is stupid." Bobby stated. "Not when your life is on the line."
"I meant stupid in the way that I did that to them. Mary and John. I'm not even their kid. If I'd...actually done it, they would have had to deal with it all. They shouldn't have to. I'm not their problem...like I said, I'm not their kid. They've already lost us once, I couldn't make them lose one of us again. What I did was selfish, but I wasn't thinking." Sam was clearly angry at himself. "I'm so stupid! I hurt everyone around me and it's selfish. I would have said that they should've just left me there and get on with their lives, but they would have had the medical bills and they can't be expected to pay them. And now you're having to use your own hard earned money to pay for them." He paused. "I ruin everything, but I can't stop it. I've hurt Mary. I've hurt John, I've hurt Dean, and you..." He paused. "Dean won't even look at me. He's embarrassed that he's got such a fuck up for a little brother. But why wouldn't he be? I'm poison! I hurt people that I love because I can't be happy! My stupid brain won't let me be happy and it's hurting everyone! Mary cries herself to sleep at night. John spends hours researching how to help someone with depression in the hope that there's some miracle cure out there that's magically gonna' make me less fucked up and Dean either doesn't talk to me or treats me like I'm gonna' shatter if he says something wrong. And I hate it! I did all of this! I caused all of this because I was stupid and self-centered and like always, I put stupid, pathetic me in front of the people I love. The people I care about most in this world. The only people who haven't abandoned me like everyone else in my life, and I screwed that up too!" His voice sounded tearful as he spoke about his family. "I want to get better, but I can't do it, Bobby...I'm broken, but I don't know how to fix myself." Sam's legs gave way beneath causing him to fall to his knees on the floor. Sam tried to push Bobby away as the older hunter knelt down in front of the youngest Winchester, beating his fists pathetically against his chest as he tried to struggle free before he broke down. Sobbing painfully, Sam was overcome with tears as he buried his head into Bobby's shoulder, feeling strong, arms wrap around him as he was engulfed in a comforting hug.
"It's okay, Sam...It's okay..."
Hearing the sound of Sam's sobs, Mary and John came rushing in. Their eyes widened at the sight of their youngest. Mary's heart wrenched, hating seeing his little boy so upset.
"It's all gonna' be okay."
After his breakdown, they'd suggested that Sam should try and get some sleep. This left the Winchesters and Bobby sat in the living room downstairs. John had opened a bottle of whiskey, handing Bobby a glass. Taking a large gulp of the strong alcohol, Bobby placed the glass down onto the table before standing up. "I need to go and talk to Dean."
"He should be out back."
Bobby nodded before leaving the house. It took only a few minutes to find the boy. He was sat on top of an old tumbledown stone wall looking utterly terrified. He was clearly lost in his own thoughts, and that was never good for anyone.
"Dean." Bobby spoke up softly, alerting the elder of the two Winchester brothers of his presence.
Dean looked up at Bobby.
"We need to talk."
Dean still didn't say anything.
"Dean, you need to talk your brother."
"What good's that gonna' do?" Dean asked, finally joining the conversation. "What could I possibly say to make this better?"
"It's not about making it better, Dean, it's about making him realize that he's hurting himself by not talking about how he's feeling." He paused, trying to find the softest way to relay what had happened to Dean. "Your brother just broke down in there, and I think what he really needs right now is his big brother, because that's one of the things that upsetting him most, he thinks that you hate him. When was the last time you had a full conversation with Sam, and I mean conversations where you both actually listened to each other?"
"The facility." Came Dean's small voiced reply.
Bobby sighed. "You boys need each other right now. You're stronger together." He paused. "Go and see your brother you idjit." Bobby smiled.
Dean nodded before smiling slightly. "Okay. Thanks, Bobby." He jumped down from the wall and walked off towards the house.
Walking into their room, Dean noticed as Sam's head turned to him. He smiled back. "Hey, Sammy." Making his way over to Sam's bed, he looked down at his brother. "You gonna' bunk up or am I gonna' have to sit on the floor?"
Sam shuffled along the bed, creating room for Dean.
Dean sat back against the headboard before turning to Sam. His little brother looked so scared and upset, it hurt Dean to see him so dispirited. "Come here." Lifted his arm up, Sam took the hint immediately and moved closer to his older brother, resting against his side. Dean smiled, it was just like they used to do when they were younger. "Sammy..." He began, trying to find enough strength in his voice as he did so. "I'm sorry."
"For what?" Sam asked, looking up at him.
"I've been a dick these past few days when I should have been there for you."
"It's not your fault, Dean."
"It's not yours either, Sammy. None of this is." Dean reassured.
Sam looked down.
"Hey..." He spoke softly, gently placing a hand on his little brother's chin and lifting it so that he was looking into his eyes. "It's not your fault." A tear trickled down Sam's cheek, the sight of it made his heart wrench. "Sammy." He collected his little brother in his arms, wrapping them tightly around him as he held him close. Resting his chin lightly on the top of Sam's head, he never wanted to let his little brother go ever again. "We're gonna' get through this Sammy...together, okay?"
Sam nodded into his chest. "Okay, Dean." Came his soft reply.
Dean smiled as he gently stroked a hand down his brother's back. "Everything's gonna' be okay...I promise."