look after you, spn

022. tombstone

"Hey." Sam walks into Lucy's room, the girl folding her clothes. "So, um... Dean and I are gonna go on a hunt together. So, it-- it would just be you and Jack at the bunker."

"Alone?" She asks.

"Yeah. I mean, Jack-- Jack's pretty focused on some old fantasy movies I had. So you probably won't spend much time together if you don't want to." Sam says.

"Okay." She nods.

"O-okay? Really?" Sam asks.

"Did you want me to cry or something?" Lucy asks.

"Wh-- no. No, of course not." Sam awkwardly laughs. "You just... you're usually more hesitant."

"Yeah, well, I've been a here, so, I should get used to stuff a little more." Lucy comments.

"Wha-- no, no, honey, you should go at your own pace. Whether that takes one year, five, a decade. You don't have to be so okay. I mean, you-- you went through a lot those six years, you need to take all the time you can to heal." Sam tells her.

"Right." She mumbles.

"I-is this about whatever Dean said?" Sam asks.

"He didn't say anything." Lucy insists.

"Lucy, hey." Sam crouches down to be her height, resting his hand on her arm. "I know you think that since he's my brother, I'll take his side over yours, but I won't. Okay? If he did something wrong, I want to know so I can help you."

"What if you think I'm being overdramatic?" She quietly asks.

"I won't think that, sweetie." Sam promises. "Can you tell me what he said?"

"He called me a self-conscious, fragile, deer in headlights look, mentally held back, little wimp. Word for word." Lucy informs. Sam lets out an angry sigh and his jaw clenches. "He said that I've been out for a year so I should be normal by now." She adds before chewing on her bottom lip.

"Okay." Sam mutters, rubbing his forehead. "Okay. Got it. Um..." He stops himself from storming out and turns back to the redhead. "You're none of those things, okay? Dean doesn't understand anything about emotions or healthy trauma responses. He thinks everybody should deal by burying it and being angry all the time."

"I've noticed." Lucy mumbles.

"Right." Sam says. "Look, hey." He touches her cheek before resting his hands on her shoulders, leaning down to be level with her again. "You are allowed to recover however you want and for however long you need to. And-- and normal? None of us are normal? Normal is so boring. You wanna act 10, act 10. You wanna act 16, act 16. We're all self-conscious about something, Dean looks like a deer in headlights way more."

"You're not a wimp. You endured years of torture, that's the furthest thing from a wimp. And that also contributes to you not being fragile. Just because you don't act all macho and tough or-or like an emotionless person doesn't mean you're so easily breakable. You're just human."

"What's your defense for mentally held back?" Lucy asks.

"That-- you were, but it's not your fault. There's nothing wrong with that. You couldn't control it." Sam tells her. "There's nothing wrong with how you act or don't act. You're you, and you're still figuring that out. That's complicated enough for any kid, let alone one that was locked in a room for nearly a decade."

"Thanks." Lucy mumbles.

"Don't listen to Dean. Okay? He knows very little." Sam says and Lucy nods. "We'll be back in a couple days, okay? I'll text you."

"Okay." Lucy nods.

"You gonna be okay?" Sam asks.

"Mm-hmm." Lucy nods. "Yeah, I'll watch TV, read, you bought food yesterday. I'm good."