The Runt of the Litter

Beyond Repair, Every Inch

Note: um... hey. you might remember me, i write a fic here... it's been a while

i won't bore you with the details but life is pretty annoying and, as my three year old niece told me the other day, "people are not nice."

anyway, this chapter is heavy. i'd like to say i'll post something else soon, but i've learned not to make promises if i don't know for sure i can keep them. just know i'm still writing when i find it in myself, and i'm far from being done with this story.

anywho, here's the list of TRIGGER WARNINGS: mentions of sexual assault, brief but graphic depiction of self harm (this is not sh positive), other mentions of sh, vague descriptions of dissociation, brief mentions of suicidal thoughts

i'll put a warning right before and after the sh scene so you can skip. i have to skip things like this, please do the same for yourself if you need to <3

i think that covers it. and fear not, because the ending is actually on the happier side.

anna is seventeen, and this is set immediately after "Some Memories Live in Our Blood"

Beyond Repair, Every Inch

Her body still felt dirty, and Anna didn't know what to do about it. She'd showered twice a day for the past week, but she was too exhausted to keep it up. She supposed it was time to come to terms with the truth, to accept that her body would never feel clean again no matter how many times she scrubbed it raw, to accept that her body might never be her own again.

She stood for a long moment outside the bathroom door, fresh clothes draped over her forearm. Her legs felt heavy, cementing her to the floor, and the more she thought about all those little tasks that came with taking a shower, the less she wanted to take one.

"Whatcha doin', Runt?" Dean asked gently from her right. He was still speaking gently even after eight days. But that was okay, because Anna was still flinching even after eight days. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Anna said hurriedly, trying to shake the fog from her mind. "Just really tired," she added more casually.

"Takin' another shower?"

Anna looked from Dean's worried face to the clothes she was holding. "No," she said after another second. "I don't actually feel like it." Her response didn't seem to put Dean at ease as his eyes were still looking guardedly compassionate.

"Alright," he said without any further questions. "I was just coming to see what you want for lunch. Put your stuff away and meet me in the kitchen." When Anna opened her mouth, Dean predicted easily what she wanted to say. "Hungry or not, you haven't eaten since yesterday, and you need food."

Anna closed her eyes tiredly and let out an annoyed breath. But she was too tired to argue the subject, so she just answered, "'Kay," and turned toward her room. She didn't hear Dean's footsteps for another few seconds, but eventually he started moving away.

Throwing her clothes sloppily onto her desk chair, Anna sat heavily against her bedroom door. Her stomach hurt, not like cramps or like hunger or even like the stomach flu, but the bone deep kind of ache that couldn't seem to pick a resting place. It was everywhere, and still she couldn't reach it when she hugged her own middle, couldn't reach it when she cried or yelled or vomited. So she couldn't soothe it either. One more way that her body wasn't hers anymore.

Leo had taken it away, and no matter how much distance was put between them, Anna didn't think the power would ever shift back to her.

Her phone buzzed beside her on the floor, and one glance told her Dean was getting impatient. That was how things were lately. Her family always wanted her within sight, like they were waiting for the moment she collapsed and broke down.