Animal I Have Become – 3 days Grace

Somebody help me through this nightmare
I can't control myself
Somebody wake me from this nightmare
I can't escape this hell

I wake from my troubled sleep when I hear a door slam. Rubbing my eyes, I see that they were stopped at a gas station. Neon numbers shining on the dashboard inform me that it's ten P.M. Which means I'd slept for ten hours. Dean looks back, apparently noticing I'm awake.

"Good, you're awake. I thought you'd died," Dean shakes his head, grinning. "Dad's paying for the gas and getting us something to eat. We arnt gonna stop again till late tomorrow afternoon." I nod, opening the car door. "Where are you going?" "Bathroom," I smirk at Dean. "Why, did you wanna come?" Dean rolls his eyes, but doesn't respond.

I head to the bathroom, seeing my Dad at the cash register holding some sodas, poptarts, a few hotdogs and some water bottles. I grimace. How would I get out of eating in a car where there was nowhere to escape to and no saying I ate earlier? I try to push the thought away and continued on to the bathroom.

I stand in front of the mirror a few minutes later, washing my hands and face. Despite the long sleep in the car, dark circles underlined my eyes, my face seeming paler. I look away unable to face my own appearance.

Such a trivial thing to worry about as a hunter, yet it was starting to seem like a bigger deal. Of course being skinny wasn't the only reason I stopped eating. Nor was pleasing my Dad.

I'd never controlled anything about my life. Not where we lived, or who I talked to, or what I did. But how much I ate, how much I weighed. That was all me. Completely my decision and no one elses.

I leave the bathroom, going back to the car. Dad was putting the gas nozzle back on the hook and Dean was taking a sip of a coke. I slide in the back seat. "Here," Dean tosses me a water bottle, knowing my recent distaste for soda. "Thanks," I smile as genially as I can. Dean looks at me a moment, obviously calculating something. "You okay?"

I nod quickly, worried he was catching onto everything. "Fine. Why?" "Nothing," Dean shakes his head. Of course he wouldn't start a chic flic moment if he didn't have to. "Hot dog?" The tone of his voice suggested it wasn't an offer. Either I was eating that hotdog or Dean was stuffing it down my throat.

"Yeah thanks." I take the hotdog from him, my hand shaking a bit. Despite that Dean smiles and turns to eat his own. A few minutes later he's done and they were pulling out of the gas station parking lot. My uneaten hotdog still sat in my lap and I didn't know what to do with it. I couldn't eat that.

Dean glances back, slight annoyance finally flashing in his eyes as he sees that I hadnt eaten. "Dammit Sam, eat the hotdog." "Dean-" "No. Do it." I bite my lip. Dad glanced back at me, curious as to what I was gonna do next.

Anger sparks through me. What the hell did they think this was, freak show convention? Eyes on the road. "Fine," I snap, taking the hot dog out of the bun and taking a bite of it. Dean watches me till I'd eaten at least half of it. Satisfied, he turns around and settles into his seat. I set the hotdog down, wiping the grease on my fingers on my jeans. I felt sick to my stomach. How could I eat that? All my work was probably done for now.

I berate myself the rest of the ride, Eye of the tiger coming through the speakers at one point. I try to tune out the music, despising it even more than usual today.

Dean had gotten about an hour more sleep in before at midnight he and Dad switched places. Dad was asleep almost instantly. He and Dean seemed to share that gift, while I could toss and turn for hours sometimes before finally falling asleep.

I having slept all day, looked the window at the passing trees. All was silent except for the quite sounds of Kansas coming through the radio.

"Sammy?" Dean suddenly says. I meet eyes with him in the mirror, his green eyes clearly troubled. "Yeah?" "What's going on with you man?" Looking at him I could tell this wasn't random, it must have been bothering for a while. And I wish I could tell him. Everything. Just like we used to do when we were younger.

But things were different now. And there was no going back. No way he could tell Dean –this-. So I shake my head. "Nothing. Seriously dude, I'm fine." I see frustration on Dean's face. "Then why aren't you eating? Why do you barely talk to me anymore?"

"I am eating," I say defensively. Unfortunately, I add in my head. "Half a hotdog in two days doesn't count." I ignore him continuing. "And we do talk, we're talking right now." He doesn't look convinced in the least and I don't blame him. Cause he was hitting everything spot on, just like always.

I didn't really talk to him anymore. Or Dad, not that we talked much before. Because I know if I did, they would definitely tell something was wrong, more than just being a stubborn teenager. And I couldn't bare it if they made me start eating. Watched me so closely, I'd never be able to try out my new found escape.

"Sam.." Dean sighs after a moment. "Just.. you know I'm here for if you need me right?" I nod, I knew that. I always had. "I know Dean." "Good." I grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Chic flic moment over?" Dean doesn't look to amused, but rolls his eyes regardless. "Yeah, chic flic moment over."

It's silent the rest of the ride and the only time they talk after that is so Dean confirms I've eaten a few bites of my poptart. Dean and Dad having switch off again around noon, Dad pulls into a small apartment complex around five. He switches off the car.

"Okay boys, lets unpack. We'll get a few hours sleep, grab a burger then start researching the new hunt a little bit more. Two killings, both girls between the ages of sixteen and twenty- five-" I tune the rest out, knowing I'd have to read up on it at least fifty times tonight before Dad was satisfied.

We unpack our things quicky, Dad showing us where he was hiding the spare key, before I fall into bed. The last thing my conscious mind registers is Dean climbing into his bed a little ways away. I just hope I can hide this from him a while longer. I know that sounds screwed up, but I was starting to come with terms that was just who I was. There was just no saving me from the animal I had become.