If Heaven Wasn't So Far Away

Family Don't End in Blood

"Son of a bitch, did you sleep together?" Dean demanded, sounding either amazed or horrified, and waking us both up. "Sam!"
"Just sleep." Sam clarified. "Not, like, sleep sleep."
I pulled the blankets over my head, sticking my hand out and flicking him off. "Fuck off. I'm trying to sleep."
"Sleep sleep? Really, dude?" Dean shook his head and walked out, chuckling to himself.
"Damn it." Sam said, getting up.
I stayed in bed for a minute, then got up and dressed. My phone rang, and I sat down on my bed answering it. It was Claire. "Hey, how are you?"
"Okay. And you?"
"Fine, thanks."
The door opened. "And Lexie? Your legs. You know we have to talk about that." Sam said, then saw I was on the phone. "Sorry." He said, backing out.
"Claire? I've got to go. I'll call you back." I hung up.
Oh God.
Tears welled in my eyes, and my chest tightened, making it hard to breathe.
God. My thighs are covered with scars. They're worse than the others. At least he hadn't seen my hips, I suppose...
I started crying.
There was a knock on the door.
"Hang on." I said, forcing my voice to be steady. Quickly, I dried my eyes. "Come in."
Sam came in. "We need to talk." He repeated. "I... I'm... I didn't realize it was that bad... I... I'm so sorry..."
"It doesn't matter. Just... Forget about it."
"No." He said, shaking his head. "I won't. Do you know what it's like, knowing that someone you love hates their life so much, hates themself that much, that they resort to that? Because it feels like Hell ran me over."
"Sam..." Wow. I'm a bitch.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He sat down on the bed, staring at the floor. "Why won't you let us help you?"
"Because I didn't want you to know!" I snapped.
"Why, Lexie?" He looked up at me.
"I didn't want you to think differently of me." God. Must I always explain myself?
"Not possible." He said, reaching out, grabbing my hand, and pulling me to him. Hey, this way I was taller than him. I pulled away anyways. "I would have found out eventually."
"No."
He looked offended. "Oh."
"What?" I asked. I am such a bitch.
"Nothing." He pulled me back and wouldn't let me pull away. "I still love you, and I still think you're beautiful." He whispered, to which I had no response. "Where else?" He asked finally.
"Pardon?"
"Where else have you cut?"
It appears my dad was right. I would have to explain my scars to my boyfriend some day.
Decision time. Tell the truth and cause more pain, or lie and keep that pain from him, at least for a little while.
"That's it." I whispered, not looking at him.
"No more secrets?"
I nodded.
We went out, and Dean gave me a tight smile, before hugging me and lightly kissing the top of my head. "Keep your head up, kiddo." That was quite the display of affection.
"So you got yourself a taste of the real world." Dean smirked, both lightening the mood and creating tension, but a different kind.
"In Sam's words, we didn't sleep sleep; we just slept."
"Shut up." Sam smiled.
Dean looked at us both, dead serious. "Both of you listen here. Sex," he said, "Is not allowed."
We both looked at him like he was crazy. What the hell is wrong with him. "You, Sam, will not ruin her innocent little mind, and you, Lexie... Just keep being you."
"I do not have an 'innocent little mind.'" I argued. Rude. "But you can't tell me what to do." I said, like a defiant child.
"You're part of this family now, whether you like it or not, and my little sister's mind is not going to be corrupted by my idiot kid brother. And I can tell you what to do, I'm boss around here." He pinched my cheek.
I don't think he knows how weird that sounded...

"So," Dean said as we sat down at Papa John's. "There's a supposed haunted house in Panama City."
"Florida, right?" Knowing Dean, it could be in Central America, and he wouldn't know.
"Is there more than one?" He asked.
Sam shook his head. "He spent his school years in janitor's closets."
"And I bet you my high school experience was ten times better than yours." He smirked.
"Guys." I said.
"Or," Dean continued as if he hadn't been interrupted, "A string of unsolved killings in Omaha where the hearts were ripped out."
"Werewolves or ghosts." Sam said. "Great options."
"Or you could say beach or country." Dean grinned.
Unfortunately for me, I don't like either.