If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away

Forgiveness

"Uhm, what happened to all the knives?" I asked, staring into the nearly empty trunk.
"That's for me to know and you not to know."
"I will fucking cut you."
"With what?" Dean asked innocently.
I reached inside my pocket, rooting around for my knife, only to find it gone. "What-"
"Looking for this?" Dean asked, holding up my knife.
"How-"
"I know a person." He shrugged. "You can have it back in a week."
"A week?" I demanded. "What the fuck?"
He shrugged again. "A week."
"Why?"
"Why do you think?" He put it back in his pocket.
My throat tightened and my eyes stung. Not trusting myself to speak, I waited for a second before being able to talk without feeling as though I'd burst into tears. "I'm taking care of it, Dean." I said, forcing exasperation into my voice. No way in hell am I letting him know how I actually feel.
"Obviously not well enough." Sam said, coming up behind me.
"Saaaaaaam, make him give it back." I whined.
"If Dean does something about it, it's important." He said matter-of-factly. "What are we talking about?"
"He hid all the knives."
"Oh. Well I agree with him."
"Please?" I looked at him pleadingly.
He looked away. "No."
I sighed. Great. Now I have to do feelings. "Thank you guys... It means a lot." I said uncomfortably.
Dean smiled tightly, then we got in the car.
"So, what am I supposed to do without a knife?"
"I think you'll find you're missing something else as well."
I dug in my pocket, but I had everything, save the knives.
"Check your phone."
I got out my phone and started to turn it on.
"Take off the case." He said.
"Shit. How'd you know?"
He shrugged.
"Damn it." I muttered. "Okay."
"You're not getting that back. It's gone."
Tears welled in my eyes. That thing, as sick as it sounds, had been my only friend for the longest time... And now it's gone. I would never feel it's sharp kiss again... "Okay." I said, sounding much more vulnerable than I'd meant to.
"It'll be okay, Lex." Sam said gently.
"Shut up." I said.
"Sorry." He said. "It's for the best."
"So why didn't you hide everything else? I could do much worse with a gun than I could with a knife. Well... For the most part."
"We didn't want to leave you totally defenseless. Plus, I don't think your goal is death. But if that may present a problem, hand over everything else." They both turned to look at me.
I touched the scars on my wrist, my fingers lingering over the deepest one, which had almost cost me my life. Unfortunately, it hadn't. I had swallowed some pills as well, but I'm the only one who knows about that. And I told everyone the cut had been an accident.
I weighed the consequences of either answer. I could lie, and possibly do something stupid. Or I could tell the truth and get that piteous look, but be doing the right thing.
Eventually, I handed over the gun, avoiding eye contact.
"Oh my God." Sam said softly.
Oh no.
I should have kept it. Sure, I might've tested out death via gunshot-to my head, of course. That's the part that causes me problems-which, of course, I haven't contemplated too much or anything. But still. I wouldn't have had to face these stupid fucking consequences.
Tears rolled steadily down my cheeks. I put my head in my hands and pulled my legs up to my chest.
God please help me.
I've got to stop crying in front of Sam and Dean.
I tried to pull myself together, but that only made it worse.
And then arms were around me. That bastard better be glad they took my knives, or I might have stabbed him. As you can see, I don't like surprises.
I reeled away.
I also don't like being touched.
I deduced that since he climbed over the seat to get here, I shouldn't trouble him more, and that that would be inconsiderate on my part.
But I don't want to be touched.
But I want to be held... Comforted.
Ew. What's wrong with me?
"Come here, baby." Sam said gently.
I looked at him, and the tears flowed faster.
If only he knew what I've done... He wouldn't look at me like that ever again. Maybe with the same pity and sympathy, but not with, well, the love.
He pulled me to him, but I pulled away. "You don't know what I've done." I said through my tears. "You'd force the gun into my hand."
"I've probably done worse." Sam said.
Dean pulled over onto a little dirt road. "Out of the car. Family meeting."
Crying harder, I obeyed him.
"Did I just say that?" He muttered to himself, causing me to laugh through my tears.
Family.
They didn't have to take me in. They didn't have to take my blades. They didn't have to take my gun. They didn't have to call me family.
Sam and Dean Winchester are my only true family.
My phone rang.
I didn't know the number and was about to decline it, but Dean told me to answer it. I handed it to Sam to answer, since I was still sobbing.
"Hi... Possibly. Who is this?... Maybe, hang on." He took the phone from his ear. "It's some girl named Sarah. She said she needs to talk to you. Do you-"
Are we friends? No, she hates me. I snatched the phone from his hands. "It's Lexie. Are you all right?" I kept my voice as steady as I could, even as Niagara Falls ran down my face. She wouldn't call unless something was terribly wrong. We didn't exactly leave off on the best of terms.
"Hi... Um... It's Sarah."
"Are you crying? What's wrong?"
Dean leaned on the hood of his car and gave me a weird look. Smiling slightly and shaking his head, Sam rested beside him.
"I was calling to check on you."
"Why do you care what a selfish bitch like me is feeling?" I demanded before I could stop myself. "Shit, I'm so sorry. I-"
"That's what I was calling about."
"No, but seriously, are you okay?"
"Nope. Lexie, are you?"
"Yes, I'm grand. What's wrong?"
"I just realized how big of a bitch I was to you. You didn't deserve to be treated like that. You're the only person who's never stabbed me in the back, and I went and stabbed you and carved you open. I was the selfish bitch, not you. I deserve for you to be a bitch to me. I just wanted you to know I'm sorry."
"Sarah, why are you doing this? Are you-"
"No. Well, maybe. I dunno yet. But just in case."
"Sarah, no. It'll be okay, I promise. Just don't. Go to your friend's house or something. Just don't do it."
Dean was looking at me like I was crazy. Probably because I was still sobbing and begging somebody who hates my guts not to commit suicide.
"I have to. Nobody... Nobody cares. No one notices that I'm on the edge. Nobody cares."
Yeah, I know the feeling. "Yes they do, Sarah. You just have to wait for them to come. One day, someone will come along, and they'll take your blades and hide the knives so you won't be tempted. They'll take the gun and hide it. They'll put up with the incessant sobbing. Just wait. They'll come.
"And I care, Sarah. I know you hate me and don't care all that much about what happens to me, if at all, but I care, and I'm here for you." Sam came and put his arms around me, just in time, as I was about to just let myself drop to my knees. I'm so tired.
"I don't hate you."
You could fool me. She told me she hated me, that she would rather kill herself than be friends with me. At the time she thought suicide was the biggest sin. See how people change...
"Okay." I said.
"Are you okay?"
"Perfectly fine."
"I heard about your mom."
"Oh."
"Are you all right?"
"Yeah. I'm fine."
"And I should've called when I heard about your dad and grandma."
"No, it's okay. Don't worry about it."
"I'm really sorry. Can you ever forgive me...?"
"I forgave you a long time ago, Sarah." I said. "But are you okay? I can have someone go check on you, if need be."
"No thanks, I think I'm fine now."
"Okay, good."
"You sound different. Are you okay? Are you crying?"
That could be that she hadn't spoke to me in, like, ten years. "No, I'm good. But I'm in the middle of a family meeting, so I've got to go. I'll call tomorrow to check in."
"That sucks. I'm sorry."
"No, these guys are decent human beings."
"I'll take it these are the people who took your blades and gun?"
"Kind of."
"Lexie? Is there any going back?"
"No, I'm afraid not."
"That's what I suspected. Okay."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. I should be the one apologizing."
"Don't worry about it. I'll call you tomorrow. Bye."
"Bye."
I turned my face into Sam's shoulder and sobbed.

"Why would you forgive someone who did all that to you?" Dean asked after I'd calmed down.
"It's the right thing to do. Like, when Stephen was stoned, he asked for God to forgive the people who were killing him. His last words were 'Father, forgive them, for they know not what they are doing.'"
"Who's Stephen? I didn't think people were stoned anymore."
"The martyr?" I was met with blank stares. "He's in the Bible. He was the first Christian martyr."
"Well, of course someone in the Bible said that. They all have to be like that."
"Actually, in Psalms, David was talking about pretty gory was to kill his enemies."
"Can we trade her out for less of a Jesus freak?"
I smiled. "That's literally the nicest thing anyone's ever said to me. Thank you so much." I haven't exactly earned the title, in my opinion, but it had a nice ring.
He shifted, unsure what to say. "Okay... Well, let's hit the road."