Summary- When Katrina (Kat) attempts suicide will Sam and Dean find her in time?
Warnings- Mention of blood, cutting, and suicide.
I’d been quieter than usual and had quit eating. I had hoped that no one would notice, but I could tell Sam and Dean were getting suspicious.
I fell into a deep depression. I couldn’t handle the emotional pain so I found a more bearable pain, cutting. Using a razor I cut almost everyday, creating fresh cuts. I also did it to punish myself for being so weak. It was so hard to just get up in the morning, and I hated it because it made me feel lazy. I didn’t even want to go on hunts with Sam and Dean anymore. I had begged for them to let me go in the beginning, but, after I spiraled down this dark hole, I just didn’t feel like it anymore.
Year round I wore long sleeves to hide my deep scars from everyone. Even in 90 degree weather because I couldn’t risk anyone noticing. Sam and Dean always asked how in the hell I could stand the heat in a flannel, but I just responded with “I get cold easily.”
Today I couldn’t take it anymore, I had to do it. I ached to slip the blade across my already scarred arms, to end it all. I loved dean. I loved my boyfriend so much, and it hurt me to know that I didn’t care about how much this might affect him, but the pain was too much.
I loved Sam and Cas like brothers. They cared for me and protected me.
Which is why I didn’t tell them about my depression. They didn’t need the extra burden, they already had to deal with enough monsters in the real world. They didn’t need to worry about mine. I knew if I had told them they would try to help me instead of helping people who could actually be saved.
But my love for them wasn’t enough anymore. I stopped eating about a week ago and gave up on trying to help myself. I was beginning to lose more and more weight everyday and was beginning to look unhealthily skinny.
I went into one of the bathrooms while Dean and Sam were out on a hunt. I wrote out a note on a piece of paper quickly, running out of time before they got back to the bunker. They had called me ten minutes earlier letting me know they were almost home. I run downstairs to put it on the counter before rushing back to the bathroom. Grabbing a fresh razor out of the cupboard I lean against the wall, sliding down to sit on the floor.
1, 2, 3, 4 cuts.
“Kat we’re home!” I hear before hearing the door shut.
“SHIT!” I mutter before hurrying and slicing a few more times wishing I could bleed faster. I begin feeling dizzy and slump down to lay on the floor.
“Kat where are you?”
As I walked in I called out to Kat thinking she would come down to greet us. When I don’t get an answer I walk into the kitchen hoping she was in there, but getting a really bad feeling about this.
Lying on the counter is a note. It reads “I just can’t do this anymore. I love all of you. Don’t miss me please. You will find someone new Dean.” Signed by Kat .
“NonononoNONONO. Kat?! WHERE ARE YOU!?” I say running up the stairs as fast as my legs could take me, Sam right behind me.
I hurry up and slash a few more times knowing I don’t have much longer.
Next thing I know is Dean knocking down the door. He marches over to me, tears forming a river as he cried. All of a sudden I feel myself go completely limp, but still conscious.
Dean pulls me into his lap, holding my wrists with his hands hoping he could, with some miracle, stop the bleeding. I couldn’t hear but I read his lips screaming for Sam to call 911.
“Dean n-no. I’m getting blood all over your shirt.” I whisper, trying to do all I could to get him to let me go but failing terribly. He was too strong.
“Kat why? Why did you do this?” I read on his lips. And that’s when I blacked out.
How did it come to this? Why didn’t I notice before? How come I didn’t prevent it? I thought as the ambulance showed up outside the bunker to pick Kat up to take her to the hospital.
I stared at her wrist noticing scars, fresh cuts, and healing cuts up and down her arms; the fresh ones still spilling blood. Wait…scars? What the fuck?! How could I not have noticed before. She’s been doing this for months maybe even years, judging by her arms. She’s been hiding them and I never noticed. Even when we slept in the same bed, when she was changing, or any other time she showed skin. How could I have been so ignorant?!
I have spent 33 years around blood, from both dead and alive, from monsters and humans but nothing affected me this badly. Kat meant so much to me. It scares the shit out of me to know that she might not make it.
At the hospital:
I’ve always hated hospitals;
they’ve just always smelt and looked too clean. Yet, here I sit waiting for news from the doctor about Kat, unable to sit still. Sam is sitting on the white chairs, crying, with his head in his hands, almost as much as me, with Cas right along side him.
About ten minutes later I spot the doctor coming down the hallway. He seems to be taking his time, causing me to become increasingly impatient. Sam, Cas, and I all stand up and rush to meet the doc halfway.
“She’ll be ok.” We all let out a breath of relief. “30 stitches. But she will need to be on bed rest for a few weeks. And don’t let her out of your sight. You may go in and see her now.”
We all scramble to get into her room first, and cram all three of us through the door at once.
I hear pounding feet on the tiles outside of my room and, right before my I eyes, all three of them manage to somehow fit through the doorway. Sam being Sam, falls and get a mouthful of polished tile. I let out a little giggle, the first real laugh in months.
I can feel that my eyes are puffy from crying and I’m unable to move my wrists. Tears fall down my face dampening the skin on my neck.
Cas makes it to me first and, being careful of my wrists, pulls me into a bone crushing hug. I didn’t even think he had the strength for this, but he proved that theory wrong. He pulls back his eyes full of sadness.
“Why Kat? Why would you do this to yourself?” He asks. There’s the question I were hoping to avoid for as long as possible, but I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell they would skip over it and jump to the hugs and shit.
I sigh, leaning back into the bed searching my brain for the simplest answer.
“I couldn’t take the pain anymore. I always felt so lonely. I hate myself more and more everyday. I didn’t feel that I deserved my life.” I’m crying by the time I finish. “I’m sorry.” I mutter.
“No Kat. Just no. This is not your fault. You can’t blame yourself. I’m just really sad that you didn’t want to tell us. Don’t you know we love you? Why didn’t you tell us sweetheart?” Dean says slowly and quietly, moving towards you.
“I didn’t want to burden you. You didn’t need an extra person to worry about. You all don’t deserve that. Of course I know you love me. I just wasn’t thinking about everyone else at that point. I was too focused on my pain.” I finish, unable to look them in the eyes, ashamed.
“Kat, you can come to us anytime. It won’t be burdening or bothering us. You matter too much to us. You’re a Winchester. You’re family, ok? We can’t afford to lose you.” Sam says, firm but caring.
“Yea Sam. Of course. I’m just not strong. I don’t feel like I can do this.” I begin crying again and the boys attack me in a bone crushing group hug.
“We’ll be here for you to help you through it, ok?” Dean says in a hopeful voice. “Just please tell us everything.”
And so you begin explaining to them, and afterwards they begin to tell you stuff to make you laugh for the rest of the night. They make jokes about each other and random stuff and you think to yourself, ‘man I’m glad I didn’t die’ before falling asleep, genuinely smiling for the first time in forever.