𝖬𝖾𝗋𝖾𝖽𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖶𝗂𝗇𝖼𝗁𝖾𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋 | 𝖲𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅

Empty green eyes pt.28

Meredith- 18
Sam- 26
Dean- 29

this chapter deals with addiction and mentions of past sexual abuse.

It had been a week later, and unsurprisingly, Meredith wasn't doing well. And yet at the same time, she wasn't doing all that bad. Neither Dean, Sam or Stefan could understand her behavior. Joey's passing set Meredith into a spiral, a depressive spiral. She refused to eat, barely spoke. She couldn't even remember the last time she used the bathroom.

All she did was lay in the cot against the wall of the panic room, facing away from the room so her eyes wouldn't be blinded by the small lamp on the nightstand. Sam and Dean were clear out of their minds with worry, and Dean was damn near frustrated. But at the same time, he felt that it was stupid to criticize her, because she wasn't acting all cracked out.

She didn't ask for hits, she didn't beg to be taken out of the room. She just laid there, keeping to herself as best as she possibly could. Sam had carried her off the ground the night she had vomited all over the earth, the night she learned of Joey's passing, and she hadn't been the same since.

Sam couldn't figure it out at all, because he sensed there was another motive behind her tears, one she wasn't sharing. And he had no intentions of prying, but his curiosity could not be helped. They all took turns sitting with her, but Stefan hardly ever left her side. It concerned him that she wouldn't even speak with him, because she wasn't exactly a huge fan of her siblings these days.

He gave up trying to get her to talk after the fourth day, and just told her stories about his childhood or a recent hunt. He'd play with her hair, rub her temples or kiss her check. Just simple gestures to let her know that he was there for her.

When Sam sat with her, it was always more emotional for him, considering the weight of guilt he was carrying. It melted off of him, echoed like radio waves. Meredith had long since forgiven him, but it wouldn't be something she would forget. He'd sit in the chair across from her, and he too, tried to recall happy stories from their childhood. Sometimes he'd just be quiet, trying to study her body language and expressions.

Dean, on the other hand, had his fair share of mishaps. He had made the mistake of snapping at her on day three, which ultimately led to her crying herself back to sleep. He felt like an idiot, but he was happy she could still express an emotion other than silence. Dean was paranoid, and believed she had a plan working up in her head to escape. Sam denied his brother's believe, but the thought had crossed his mind several times.

She had done it before.

So that's what they had done all week. Sat with her, tried to get her to eat. She had broken out in a fever a few times, had sweat rolling off of her in waves. What she needed was a shower, but she refused to move.

"I don't know how she does it, Dean." Sam sighed, sighting at the kitchen table with his laptop in front of him. "I mean, how is she not...fighting back? She should be crawling the walls trying to get out. She seems fine."

"I wouldn't exactly say she's fine, Sam." Dean replied, drinking what seemed to be his thirtieth beer day.

Sam gave him a look. "You know what I mean, Dean. It's like she's holding it off." He understood that, because she had been nothing but humiliated and embarrassed up until that point. It made sense she'd want to try and be strong. But still, her senses wouldn't, or rather shouldn't be allowing her to do that. She should be unstable. That's how Sam remembered his college days. Unstable and Dangerous.

And that was what Meredith was doing, not necessarily by her own choice, but she couldn't help it. She didn't feel the need to lash out, have breakdowns every five minutes and beg to be let out of her prison cell. She just wanted to lay there, because she couldn't stop thinking about Joey.