#rosy isn’t a permanent name rn

[scarlettclownose]

Rosy!!

[simply-wins-little-sis]

Gone Grief

Request: Hey❣️Can I get a deanxSamxlittlesis story? She lives w/ them but she's feisty & always gets into trouble? She hides her self-harm scars & lies about it but they slowly figure it out & confront her force/her to show them? She tries to run away & they're both mad bc this isn't the first time & she had promised to stop. Time goes by & they find her cutting again & on drugs & is dangerously skinny & they're furious/confused but Cas comes & tells the boys about her eating disorder? Idk I need this rn

Tags: :@winchesters-favorite-girl​ @percussiongirl2017  @the-third-winchester-warrior  @hellhoundlover @emmazach @sisterwinchesterwriter  @fandom-queen-of-wonderland @staticweekes @hi-my-name-is-riley @a-paranoid-bastard @because-you-never-know-when @enchantingempathhumanoidturtle @alexwinchester23 @winchesterhound  @rosie-winchester

WARNINGS: THIS MAY BE TRIGGERIING TO THOS STRUGGING WITH SELF HARM, DPRESSION, EATING DISORDERS, DEATH, BLOOD, OR MENTAL HOSPITALS

PLEASE READ WITH CAUTION AND NEVER READ SOMETHING THAT WILL TRIGGER YOU OR PUT YOU IN A BAD PLACE!

A/N: This is very different from the request but for a long while I couldn't even begin writing this one because I would feel overwhelmed or sick. Here's my take on it. If you really would like the other one, let me know and I can rewrite. Thanks!

The flashbacks are in italics (As shown)

 You seemed to have a limp when you walked. One that didn’t represent just an injury, but one that meant the chip on your shoulder was greater than what anyone around her could suspect. Your boots did all the talking for your mouth was always in a tight line.

“Miss Winchester, why don’t you come on in?” called a sweet voice, one full of warmth despite the cool wind that had a nip to it.

You just shook her head, holding in all the oxygen you could, for fear if you let go her brain would collapse into the biological and chemical components it was truly made of.

“Come on Y/N, get in there,” your brother Dean’s gruff and tired voice sounded through the doorway.

This was it, this was your time to heal.

“Y/N what are you doing?!” Sam had accidentally walked in on you. The bathroom in your Uncle Bobby’s house not as hard to open as some of the other ones in the motels you stayed in.

“N-Nothing,” you quickly tried to pull your sleeves down over your oozing wrist. You had split it open again in order to feel something besides the constant pain that held you captive day in and day out.

“Y/N oh my god,” Sam let out a breath. He wasn’t yelling, but panic was evident.

“Sam just leave it,” you pulled your arm away from him.

“Dean!” he called, “Dean!”

 “So why don’t you start by telling me about yourself?” the woman, who you now knew to be Dr. Kelley, seemed to have a permanent welcome tattooed into her smile.

You sighed, “Don’t you know everything already?”

“No. You aren’t that file Miss Y/N. I only know what that paper tells, and I know that isn’t all of you.”

“Feels like it is sometimes,” you replied, quickly reaching for your sleeves for some comfort.

“Why don’t you start with how you’re feeling right now?” Kelley asked, not seeming to pry.

“Gone.”

 “You need to eat something,” Dean cooed.

“I just can’t,” you cried, pushing your plate away.

“Come on kiddo, one bite,” Sam tried.

“I can’t, I can’t, I can’t.”

“Damn it Y/N you’re starving yourself. You’re dying.”

“I know.”

The tears came a bit easier that night.

“Good morning Y/N, ready to take your medicine this morning?” Nurse Patty asked with a slight smile.

You shook your head, “It doesn’t help.”

“Give it time Miss Y/N. Maybe you’ll think about coming out to join group today?” she asked.

“Maybe.”

After a week of laying in the back of the impala, the motel, or wherever you could find with enough space, your brothers made a call to their Father’s old friend Doctor Kelley, who was a hunter’s child.

“Y/N you need to get up now, it’s time to go.”

“Go where Sammy. It’s so dark everywhere.”

Your dehydrated form seemed to be having illusions, that did not play well with your inner demons.

“You’re going to get help.”

  “I guess it all started when we lost my friend Cara. It was my fault. I was supposed to be staying by the car, but I was angry that they didn’t trust me, and I went in. The vamp through me against the wall, my knee connected with brick and it somehow hit a nerve. I pried myself up, walked on it, and damaged it more. Cara was worse though, they knew I wanted her safe so they…and then things just started spiraling. I didn’t want to eat, and I kept blaming myself as I do now and it all just took me into a dark place.”

“I can relate,” Jessica smiled at you, “My friend was killed by vamps when I was seven. Put me into this constant state of fear, like am I going to be eaten today, and it made me not want to leave the house.”

You smile back, taking deep breaths and feeling your exposed skin, but not prying at the scars.

 “So, she’s going to be alright here?” Dean asked, skeptical to leave his baby sister.

“Here we treat hunter’s kids who have rough patches. It’s safe. Everyone here has either experienced the life or has been hurt by it. She’ll be okay. I promise.”

With that the impala coasted down the highway, back to Bobby’s, short one sibling.

“Sam? Dean?” you called, tears streaming down your cheeks, but this time for a new emotion you hadn’t felt in so long.

“Y/N/N!” Sam pulled you into a hug.

“Her progress marks she can go home,” Dr. Kelley smiled.

“You’re better?” Dean questioned.

“Better than I ever have been.”