heavy trigger warning for self-harm, suicidal ideation, and brief mentions of blood and vomiting.

256 words

set in about season two after sam finds out he's got demon blood running through his veins.

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Knuckles the color of the grimy basin they were gripping. Dots floating cloud-like across his vision. A darkness encroaching on his periphery. A wetness on his cheeks.
evil evil evil evil evil evil evil

Bile rising and burning throat. Knees giving out by the antiseptic smelling toilet. Hitting a cold, hard floor. The vomit comes out acidic and foul. It cools on his chin, slimy and stinking.
sick sick sick sick sick sick sick

Stumbling upwards vertigo. Fabric coming off and coldness always more coldness. A squeaking knob all the way to the left. Sheets of heat, bearing down. Hot now, so hot hot hot.
dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty dirty

Sinking, falling, once again always. A shining flash of something wicked. A glance of pain across his wrist. Dark familiar red bubbling to the surface.
purity purity purity purity purity purity purity

A hollowness in his stomach. Dizzy lightness, all around. Limbs like lead and head a balloon. Dry tang of hunger and bile on his tongue. Bones forming a wild topography under paling skin.
control control control control control control control

The world dimming. His perception falling apart to a sea of white noise. Brain floating and detangling like a gordian knot. Buzzing blurring vision and hearing. Floating off and away away away.
freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom freedom

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A/N: sorry not sorry? feels right to start this off with some heavy angst for some reason. thoughts?
Thanks for reading ♡