Secrets Will Kill You: The Sequel

Resurrection

What is it that makes people hold it together? Is it the adrenalin from life itself? Do people start to appreciate life more when something bad happens to them? Are people so happy to be alive that they can actually look passed all the crazy shit that goes down? Are they able to look to a better future? Or do they just keep it all inside...letting the pain eat at them. Letting the pain just eat them alive...until they finally crack. When they crack...is that why they commit suicide? Homicide? Adultery? Do they go into some kind of depression? Do they block out the world? All my life I've known what to do...or I've been told what to do by my father, he was one who I could count on to guide me...but now...I don't have anyone to tell me what to do...how to do it...and for the first time in my life...I don't know what to do. I mean, I could commit suicide...homicide...adultery...but I'm not the type to cheat, let alone help someone cheat, knowingly...I'm not the type to kill people just to kill...and I don't think I have the guts to kill myself. I would hope some hunter was out to get my father but went for me instead...but it wasn't possible. My father was a very well-liked man. I would pray that some supernatural creature would just come out of nowhere and kill me...but with my luck I'd be revived somehow. I'm already in depression and I've been blocking the world out...but just how long can I keep it up? What will make me crack? How long until I crack...officially?

~

Four months. That's how long its been since Dean was put into the ground...that's how long its been since I (willingly) last saw Sam and Brittney face-to-face. Of course, they call every now and then to check up on me and they've tracked me down a few times to make sure I was still alive, which I guess is understandable. They should check on me. But I continue to shut them down, and our conversations usually end with me shutting down all together by ignoring that they exist or I just start yelling until they finally leave me alone.

Who knows what would happen to me if we lost contact all together. We don't talk about what we're doing though...they call and ask how I'm doing, I always answer with how do you think I'm doing?...then I ask them the same thing and they reply with the same type of answer.

The first month though? None of us talked really. Brit was torn between staying with Sam or coming with me. He was a wreck. I knew he would be...but really, we were all wrecks. I know Sam and Brit got annulled...and something happened between them...but I didn't push for a straight answer. Really, I didn't  want to know. I didn't care.

I called Bobby...once. I could hear it in his voice how wrecked he was...but I owed him at least one call...I owed him more than just one call...but I couldn't bring myself to do more than that. I didn't even want calls from Brit or Sam...they were the reasons why I left in the first place. It was too much of Dean put into one. When I looked at Brit, I remembered the times when they were talking and would start laughing and when they had their moments...and then I looked at Sam and saw Dean in his blood stream...I couldn't do it. I was being selfish.

Lets face it...I've changed...I've changed more than ever.

But I think I deserved to be a little selfish.

Dean haunts my dreams at night. Some nights the dreams are pure memories. Memories of past cases...of memorable moments we've had laughing...of the nights we've had together. I even dream about some of the biggest fights we've had, because those were some of the best moments.

But, most nights...I dream of Dean being in Hell. Sometimes I'm even watching through his eyes as he yells out in pain while he's being ripped apart, piece by piece...and then he's put together again just so it can all start over. I wake up screaming most nights...and then I cry myself back to sleep...and if I'm not that lucky (and I'm usually not) then I'm running to the toilet and spending the night throwing up my guts. I've realized a long time ago that when I don't have my guard up and I'm suddenly vulnerable, my body begins to reject the demon cells flowing through my veins. Its like I'm going through withdrawal. I have all the symptoms: convulsion, vomiting, cold sweats. You name it I got it.