You had enough, the stress of hunting and school was literally killing you. You were sitting in the training room, you had just finished doing your daily workout. The raw feeling of depression was getting the best of you.
You picked at the scabbed over lines you had put down recently. You knew Sam would hate you if he saw you like this. You have had enough. Without thinking you go over to the gun safe and pulled out the handgun your father had given to you on your 16th birthday, he was long gone now. You went into the bathroom and locked the door, not wanting a pesky Winchester to barge in on you.
Sam had walked into the training room and noticed the gun safe open with yours missing. At first he thought you were just practicing, but you were always a perfect shot, and you hated using the indoor range.
Sam heard quiet sobbing from the bathroom and walked over towards the door.
"Y/N, are you okay?" He asked, hoping to get a quick reply.
You didn't answer.
"Y/N, if you don't answer soon I'm coming in"
Silence.
Sam picked the lock on the door in record speeds. He swung open the door and found you sitting in the tub with your gun on your right temple.
"Y/N, put the gun down, please. He begged calmly. You weren't going to shoot yourself in front of him, that would hurt him more, and you felt like you had already hurt him enough.
He pulled you out of the tub, pocketing your gun before hand. You laid on the floor sobbing into his chest, you couldn't believe how far your depression had come. Sam didn't say a word, he had felt the same when lucifer was bothering him.
You stayed like that for another hour or so, your face buried in Sam's chest, Sam rubbing your back, making sure you were breathing. You finally felt at peace with your demons.
