That One Person Who Won't Shut Up About Sastiel

No matter how injured. If a parent doesn't deem it necessary to see a doctor, it doesn't happen. Teachers can suggest a doctor visit, but unless it's a very acute injury (and even then), it's ultimately up to the parents.

You can be 13. Twisted, maybe broken ankle. You teacher lets you sit out in PE. She's concerned, and tells you to rest when you go home, and see a doctor. You get home, ur parents fill a bath and add some Epsom salts, and then laugh at you for using it moms old colorguard stick as a cane. Take some ibuprofen they say. It's just a little sprain, ur a kid.

You go to school the next day, go to ur office assistant time. Office calls ur mom to come get you, because you're clearly in too much pain for school. Your mom laughs when she gets you, says you just were so determined not to miss school. Scolds you for making the office ladies worry.

You never see a doctor for the injury.

Your parents come into the exam room at every visit. This does not stop with age, except for gynecologist. But your parents are on the medical release forms. They fill them out for you, with you. You do not get to take them off.

You never get to tell s doctor about the ankle. Even though it never quote healed right, and it hurts every day.

Then your 18. In college. Still on your parents insurance, and have no car. The on campus clinic only does std testing. You fall down some stairs. Same injury. You call your parents, crying from the pain. You are using a mop as a cane. They console you and say to have a bath, take some meds, and let them know how it feels in a few days. You end up borrowing your roommates rolling chair to get around for the weekend.

By Monday, you can walk again. You walk miles to class every day. You ask to see a doctor, but your parents won't drive the hour to come take you, and you don't have the insurance card. You are still at their mercy for medical care. The ankle tries to heal again. This time worse than before. The tendons click with every step.

Now you're in your twenties. Finally have your own healthcare. You see a doctor. You get to mention the ankle! They say it's been too long to really even know what was damaged. That you have arthritis now. It healed wrong but it can no longer be fixed.

Dean who gets traumatized by being the torturer. He has the soft parts of himself hardened into a small, condensed ball of hate that he gets brief pleasure in hurling at those who hurt him before going numb again. He still has love, but it's a hard, inflexible thing that refuses to learn or grow, and the part of himself that accepted cruelty as an act of self-defense is not afraid to beat that love into submission so it stays right where it is - firmly his, firmly under control.

Sam who gets traumatized by being the tortured. All his defenses are burned away, leaving the soft parts of himself pulpy and malleable as an open wound for the world to prod at. He wears his heart on his sleeve, but it has no boundaries protecting it. He's learned to not trust himself, so he puts everything into trusting others even when it hurts him more. Fighting back never worked in the cage - not even the smallest, meekest "no." Why would it work now?

Dean used to tell Sam he could go back to school and live his life once their hunt for Dad was over, and he meant it. He used to want Sam to move on after his death, not crucify himself to bring him back.

Sam used to tell Dean what he wanted, feeling safe enough with him to be totally honest, even if it caused conflict. He used to love with self-respect, staying when it was healthy and leaving when it wasn't. He used to say No.

Now they're both people who would be unrecognizable to their younger selves - would probably horrify them if they knew. They're the "bad future" versions that an after-school special would show to scare kids straight, show them the adults they don't want to be.