Can you mend a broken heart?

A Broken Soul - Part 2

A/N: hello my loves! Hope everyone is being safe out there!

This chapter has quite a bit of heavy angst, please be cautious while reading,

WARNING: DETAILED ATTEMPTED SUICIDE

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The day had been the most draining he had ever felt. Waves of exhaustion and pain crashing down on him too heavily, he knew he had reached the ends of his limits, regardless of what anyone said, he wasn't strong, he never was. He couldn't bear take anymore pain, physical and mental. His soul was broken beyond the point of repairing.

The entire ride home he kept thinking about the sweet innocent smile on Team's face, the way his cheeks puffed out whenever he smiled, momentarily helping Win forget the weight on his heart. Images of his adorable Team running around the pool playing with their other teammates were running in a loop in his head, it had only been a short period of time since they had met each other but the younger man had made his heart struggle to function everytime they were near each other. Never in a million years did he want to be the cause of tears in his eyes, all he wanted to do was to protect Team. He was so young, he had more to offer to the world than Win did.

He thought of his best friend, Dean had been by his side since day one, they had been the best of friends since the day Dean had defended him against bullies when they were little. They had promised each other that no matter what happened they'd always talk to each other. Overtime Dean had gradually become a part of his family since the day his mother died, he had gotten close to his brothers, closer to his father enough for the man to entrust him with his youngest son.

A fresh set of tears rolled down his face at the thought of his father and his brothers, for the better part of his childhood his father had buried himself in work since their mother left them but he always made sure to come home to his kids every night, he was strict and stern but Win knew that anyone could agree that the man was one of the best father figures around. He spent all his time growing up surrounded by his brothers.. his brothers who always put him first no matter what the situation was. They had always prioritize him, he knew that for them, his happiness was what mattered,

The way he had intentionally hurt all of them were burning in his mind, but if he had to choose between getting saved from his own type of hell and protecting the people he held dear to him, he'd choose them in a heart beat. He had been trying to protect all of them from Bright's wrath all along, but like expected, the fire in his heart had began to dim in the last few days, now all that was left in him was a defeated young boy, tired of the cruel ways of the world,

A young boy who had finally decided to put an end to the numbing pain in his heart and soul, he wondered if they would mourn for him, if they would miss him.. but the deed was done.

For him there was nothing more to live for, he knew that if he left, just like his mother did, there was no way Bright would lay a single hand on the people he loved. He knew that Dean would take care of Team, so would his brothers because they knew how important Team was to him.

He spent the drive home quietly, taking in his surroundings one last time, however in his deep state of mind he failed to notice the way the driver and his father's guard were shooting him concerned glances,

He had thanked them profusely once they dropped him off, taking a little longer than usual to bid them goodbye, they were good men...

Walking into the house, to his relief which was empty, he stood at the entrance once the door closed behind him, slowly walking around and admiring the memories the house held, the long staircase, in his he had his first real injury when he slipped and almost cracked his head open. The countless amount of picture frames documenting their childhood, each picture holding memories he never wished to let go, he walked up the stairs, automatically going to his brothers rooms where he had spent more time than his own, the empty beds in which they had uncountable amounts of silly pillow fights, each time getting told off by their father for getting the rooms messy, only to burst out giggling.