You knew you weren't great at anything. The only thing you exceeded at, really, was acting, and even then you were unsure about your talents. You couldn't draw - the best you could draw was a stick figure waving. You certainly couldn't sing - at best you sounded like a cat whose tail has been yanked. You tripped over your own feet when dancing and your jokes were nothing but cheesy puns you read on the internet. You had always told yourself you weren't good at anything, and you took a shot at acting. Turns out, you were good enough to land a spot on Supernatural back in season three. Now they don't want to get rid of you. And don't even get started on your love life.
You had your episodes when your negative thoughts would hit you. Though, you were too insecure about it that you would hide your feelings, continuing on your day as if it were nothing. Jared's Always Keep Fighting campaign seemed to help a tad bit, there were days when you were absolutely sure about yourself, but those lasted ever so shortly. You weren't open at all about your constant arguing with yourself, you were too scared about what people thought of you. So, you'd try your best and put a smile on your face even on the worst days, laughing whenever Jensen and Jared told a joke, showing off your terrible dance skills whenever Misha started impatiently humming. In their eyes, you were the happy go-getter.
Today was worst than ever. No matter how hard you tried, you just couldn't put that fake smile on your face. You couldn't bring yourself to laugh at jokes or dance to Misha's humming. You stuck to yourself this entire day on set, listening to Jensen whenever he told you to stand somewhere - he's directing this episode - and saying the correct lines at the correct time. And you seemed to be unable to remove the negative thoughts from inside your head.
It was a bad day today.
When you arrived at your apartment - yes, apartment - you managed to pull a small smile when you heard the familiar, soothing meow of your cat, Pepper, but even that only lasted a few mere seconds.
After feeding your cat and giving him water, you walked into the kitchen and stood in the middle of the room, looking at the stove and thinking to yourself... how useless you were.
Ignoring the meowing from the other room, you walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind you, sliding to the floor against the wall and hugging your knees to your chest. You began rocking back and forth, trying to figure out how to possible remove the negative thoughts inside your head.
It was midnight when you broke the razor. It turned 12:01 when you met the cool blade against your hot skin. It flashed 12:02 on the wall clock when you pushed and pulled.
—
You woke up with your face on the comfortable cotton people call a pillow and you jerked into a sitting position when you realized where you were. A towel that you don't remember grabbing was laying on the edge of the bed, blood covering it. You didn't look at your wrists as you stood up, instead averting your eyes to the clock that now read 8:32 in the morning. You had 28 minutes to arrive on set, and that's not enough time to get rid of the blood off your skin by taking a shower.
Instead, you turned on the sink and ran your wrists underneath the running water, scrubbing the blood off, and running a brush through your hair, applying both deodorant and body spray. You changed your clothes - a long sleeve T-shirt for sure with a pair of faded jeans and your normal sneakers - before stroking Pepper and then leaving.
—
You sat behind the scene as Jared and Jensen played out a scene together, lost in your own head, replaying last night, trying to remember where the towel came from, or how you got into your bed. Everything was a blur last night, to be honest, and you were positive you were not drinking anything.
"Rough night?" You jumped when you heard Misha's voice come up from behind you. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to startle you there," he said, but he chuckled.
"Couldn't sleep last night," you lied, staring straight ahead rather than at him as he stood next to you, his eyes trained on Jensen and Jared's scene as well. "You?"
"Slept like a baby." He smiled. "Anyway, you ready?"
You turned to look at him this time, confusion striking through you. "Ready for what?"
He grinned. "Wow, Y/N. You're usually on top of things like these." His smile faltered when he realized you weren't kidding. "You and I have a scene coming up. Did you not read the script?"
"What? No, yeah, I did. It's just..." You trailed off and averted your eyes back to Jensen and Jared's scene. "I'm just messing with you."
"Funny." He shook his head and patted you on the back. "Wardrobe's looking for you. Guess I should have started out with that."
As he walked away, you squeezed your eyes shut and pinched the bridge of your nose with your thumb and index finger. You were so glad your character always wore a jacket.
—
Your eyes fixated on Misha dressed like Castiel, waiting as Jensen informed him on where to stand at certain parts of the scene. You tried to remember reading the script - you were reading it during the wardrobe change - but you couldn't remember the lines for the life of you.
Tears pricked your eyes, but you didn't know why. The pain from last night... that's what you remember. And you were starting to get freaked out because you could not remember climbing into bed with a towel for the life of you.
And then the word action was called and you snapped your attention back to Misha, him smiling at you and you politely returning the smile.
"Y/S/N," Misha said in a breathless sigh, his voice lowering an octave. Castiel. "I...I can't find them. They're..." He trailed off and shook his head, turning away from you. Silence wrapped around you tightly and, before you knew it, Jensen was yelling cut.
"Y/N, what are you doing? Why didn't you say your lines?" he asked.
You looked at Jensen as he stopped in front of you, blinking, and then took a deep breath. "I forgot them."
He released a sigh and nodded, patting your shoulder. "That's fine. That's alright. We'll take it again." And then he walked away.
Misha stepped in front of you. "Y/N, are you sure you're okay? You seem a little... paler than usual."
You mustered up a smile. "Very funny, Misha."
And then Jensen yelled action again.
—
You don't know how many times you had messed up that scene, though you do know it was enough for Jensen to call for a five minute break. The second the words came out of his mouth, you were out of there, rushing to get to your trailer, begging for peace and quiet.
And then you found yourself in front of the trailer, your name plastered on the door and your breath hitching in your throat. Now that you thought about it, you didn't want the peace and quiet. No, the peace and quiet brought thoughts you don't like into your head, and you don't know how much longer you can stand them.
But when you looked to your left, seeing the openness of the set, cars whizzing by on the streets a few yards up, and to your right, where everybody was mingling, having a snack from the snack table, and laughing at something that probably wasn't even as funny, you found yourself thinking that you don't belong.
You entered your trailer.
The couch in the trailer was comfortable, but you felt as if you couldn't make it, entering the trailer and immediately falling to the ground, tears escaping your eyes as the negative thoughts continued their way through, punching you, kicking you, stabbing you. You felt weak, helpless... against your own mind, too. There was nothing you could do but cry.
You shrugged out of your jacket and threw it in a random direction, not caring where it landed. You didn't need to cover your character's jacket in tears.
And then you heard it. It was faint, but it was there. A knock on the trailer door behind you.
Standing up and running both hands down your face, wiping the tears off of you, but using your shirt to wipe the smeared water, you called out to whoever it was to give you a moment. And then you opened the door and looked down to see Misha holding a cup holder with two coffees, and a bag of an unknown substance.
"You look like you could use the company," he said softly, moving his hands in the air, and then he smiled at you. "May I come in?"
You sent him a small, weak smile before moving away from the door, leaving it open so he could answer. You sat down on the couch by the time he had the door closed.
He set the paper bag on the coffee table, but when you reached for it, he slapped your hand away. "That's a surprise for later," he assured you. "No spoilers." He handed you a coffee as he sat down next to you.
You were staring at him, confused as to why he was here. Though he did have the habit of bringing you coffee in the morning - you and only you - but he had never asked to enter your trailer. This would be the first time Misha has seen the inside of your trailer. This has been the first time anyone has seen the inside of your trailer, really.
And then you saw it. His eyes flickering to your arms. You had completely forgotten to pull your jacket back on, setting aside out of memory, completely tuned into the mysterious knocking at the door before finding out it was Misha. And now he has saw.
"Go ahead," you said softly, setting your coffee onto the table in front of you. "I know you saw them."
"I know they're there," he replied gently before bringing his cup up to his lips, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion as his words. "I'm the one who found you."
"Found me?"
He sighed and placed his coffee on the table, turning towards you. "I went to your apartment last night, I wanted to run lines with you. I know it was late, but I was having trouble trying to figure out how you would say one of your lines, and I needed to know so I could perfect my lines." He took a deep breath. "I'm the one who cleaned you up."
You stared at him, completely forgetting you had given him, Jared, Mark, and Jensen a spare key to your apartment - they were always welcomed. Embarrassment flushed through you and you looked away from the man, looking down at your hands. "I'm sorry."
"There's nothing to be sorry for, Y/N."
"No, I know." You huffed. "I'm just... I know I'm not wanted. I've been talking with Eric about killing my character off, but he wouldn't go for it. I... Misha, I can't get rid of the negativity in my head and it's going to kill me." You couldn't stop the tears from escaping your eyes.
"Y/N." He sighed and rested a hand on your shoulder, making you tilt your head towards him. "You're always wanted around. You bring the light into a cloudy day." He huffed and moved closer to you. "I know you're tired. I know you are physically and emotionally drained, but, Y/N... you have to keep going." He huffed. "Sometimes you have to get knocked down lower than you've ever been, to stand up taller than you ever were."
You hugged your knees against your chest, trying your best to halt the tears, but failing. "I'm worthless." You hiccuped. "Why does it always rain on me?"
"You're far from worthless, Y/N," Misha said a bit angry now. "And there is always a rainbow at the end of a storm."
You looked at him.
"Y/N, I love you. Jensen loves you. Jared loves you. Mark loves you. We all love you and we all care for you deeply. Whatever you're going through, you can talk to us," he assured you. "And it's not just us that are here for you. You have the entire Supernatural fandom... You have the entire Supernatural family."
You smiled and laughed, though the tears kept coming. Misha wrapped his arms around you and kissed the top of your head.
"Someone out there right now feels exactly the same way you do," Misha whispered gently. "And I'm sure they're hiding it just as well as you do, though they shouldn't. They should open up and get help because they are loved. They are needed. They have people who want them there, they have people who are there for them no matter what. Nobody's alone, Y/N. I'm here for you just like someone else is there for that other person." He tightened his grip on you and rested his chin on your head. "And you need to stop this," he said as he pointed at your wrists. "This is bad. If you have the urge, open your mouth instead of your wrists."
You looked up at Misha, a smile crawling on your lips. You inched closer to him, your mouth closed because you have nothing else to say, and you can feel the heat of his breath fanning across your face. Your lips just inches away from his. Just one more move...
"Y/N! C'mon! Time's up! We need to shoot the next scene!" Jensen said as he started pounding on your door, a laugh escaping both yours and Misha's mouth. "Have you seen Misha?"
Shaking your head, you snaked out of Misha's grip and stood up. "Come on, then. We got a scene to shoot." He chuckled as he stood up and walked away.
You waited until the door was closed behind him to snatch the paper bag off the table and look into it. Your heart fluttered at what was in it. You took it out of the bag and placed it on the table.
A framed picture of you, Jensen, Jared, Misha, and Mark, laughing, smiling, and having a good time.
