If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away

Those Three Little Words

I was staying in the room, trying to locate any secret passages from the computer. Personally, I think they're thinking I would have a breakdown, since I'd accidentally started crying multiple times. It's not best for me to be alone when that happens, but it won't happen. I'm fine. Perfectly fucking fine.
I tried to throw myself into my research, but it wasn't working. I couldn't concentrate on anything other than the unbearable pain.
The good thing about always having to carry around a bunch of weapons-you know, besides for self-defense and stuff-is that you've always got a blade.
I pushed my hands through my hair, and put my head in my arms, eyes burning with unshed tears.
With shaking hands, I took a knife from my pocket and pushed up my sleeve. I stared at my healing cuts for a moment, then pressed the blade into my skin, slowly drawing it across, relishing in the physical pain. Blood pooled mesmerizingly on my pale skin.
Suddenly, the knife was jerked from my hands. I jumped, almost falling backwards out of my chair. Sam threw the knife into the wall and stormed out of the room.
He wasn't supposed to be back yet...
I ran after him, but he was gone by the time I opened the door. Well, fuck. Sighing, I went back to the computer. The sting of the blade against my skin brought me back to reality and concentrating was no longer a chore, though. I've certainly fucked up, haven't I?
About half an hour later, Dean came in. "Guys, you can't spend all your time- Isn't Sam here?"
"No. I thought he was with you." I said, standing.
"No. He came back to get you."
"He came. But he... got upset and left."
"What happened?"
Before I could even contemplate whether I should lie or tell the truth, the truth came out. "He walked in on me cutting." I said simply, shocking myself.
"Wait-"
"Dean, we need to find Sam." I took the knife from the wall. I don't know why I didn't do that earlier.
"Did he throw that at you?" He demanded, incredulous.
"No." I wiped it on my shirt. You couldn't see the crimson on the black. "He threw it away from me. Let's go."
"Wait, Lexie-"
"Look, Dean. It's okay. I'm taking care of it."
"Well you fucking suck at it." He said. I stared at him. Well. Why don't you tell us how you really feel? "What I mean," he amended, "is that you're obviously not doing it too well."
"Dean. Just drop it, okay?"
"No!" He slammed his hand down on the table.
Jumping, I turned around to face him, eyes wide. "Is there something you'd like to talk about, Dean?"
"Yes." He said. "I'd like to talk about why the hell you're sitting there defacing your skin and why the hell you don't see a damn problem with that."
"It's a problem." I admitted. "I shouldn't do it. I know. But I don't know about you, but I'm going to find Sam." I pushed past him and left the room.

Sam couldn't just sit there and talk calmly with her. No damn way.
He ran out into the woods. "Cas!" He yelled. "Castiel! I need you!"
There was no response from his angel friend.
"Castiel!" He screamed. "Get your feathery ass down here! Castiel!"
"Sam." A calm voice said from behind him. "What is it?"
"I need your help." He said more calmly, though he was still fuming.
"I gathered that." The angle said in his placid manner, further fuming the fire.
"I need you to fix something."
"I'm an angel, you ass. Not a mechanic."
Normally, he would have at least cracked a smile, if not even just at the angel's innocence, despite that he was being serious. "I need you to fix someone's life."
"I can't keep bringing people back from the dead, Sam."
"No, no. Not that. She's alive. But she's.... unhappy. I want her happy."
"I can't do that."
"Tell your goddamn God to!" He screamed. "Just make it happen!"
"It's not God, Sam. It's Lucifer."
Well, I'll handle that son of a bitch. He thought. "Isn't God supposed to be stronger?"
"It doesn't work that way."
"Why the hell not?"
"Because it doesn't."
Sam lost it.
He pushed Cas up against a tree. "Well," he said in a low voice, "I suggest you find a way to make it work like that."
"Sam!" Dean yelled, and he heard a gun cock.
Sam slowly drew away from Cas.
"Sam," Lexie said softly. "Put down the knife."
He looked down at his hand, and, sure enough, there was a knife clutched in his white knuckles. When had be taken that out? He released it, and it clattered to the ground.
"Sorry." He told Cas.
"It's okay."