lexophilia
in
ohsam
Fic: Anorexic Sam (Gen, WIP) 1/6
Word Count: 384
Warnings: Potentially triggering subject matter and self-harm.
Summary: A series of glimpses into the life of Sam Winchester as he deals with an eating disorder. Maybe he's always been this way. Sam knows that he's afraid of stopping, and Dean knows he's afraid of what will happen if Sam doesn't. This is fiction based on fiction, but there are some spoilers for Season 1.
Diclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Supernatural television series.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It wasn't always like this.
Dean watches his sleeping brother not knowing what to do but knowing that this has gone way beyond the point of remaining neutral. Because as it was, doing nothing was killing his brother.
Sam's large frame was not made to handle malnourishment.
There were bruises on his brother's body. A mattress shouldn't bruise a person, but that's what happens when there is no real flesh lying between protruding bones and a solid surface.
Sam tripped the other day getting out of the car, and Dean barely caught him before he hit the ground.
That moment is what has him set on edge.
Dean shouldn't have been able to almost close his hand around his brother's bicep. He shouldn't have been able to feel his fingers dipping into the spaces between Sam's ribs. And he shouldn't have been able to pull his much taller brother up with so little effort.
Sam had become a shadow of his former self. He's weak. He's fragile. He's too tall to be as skinny as he is. He's dying. It's a slow, torturous death. But it is what it is.
It wasn't always like this.
The only sound in the quite motel room is the low hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rumble from his brother's empty stomach. Sam could promise him all day that he "wasn't hungry" or that he didn't "feel like eating" or that he would "grab something later," but none of those lies could hide the fact that Sam's body was constantly calling out for something that it was being refused.
Dean hates the burning, hollow sensation of hunger, and he can't understand how Sam lives with it day after day.
Dean doesn't understand, but he knows he has to do something to stop this. It's killing him on the inside to watch his brother fade away right before his eyes. Dean can't help but think that Sam is doing this to punish himself, but Dean just can't figure out what for.
His brother is pulling himself into a deep, dark place, and it wasn't always like this.
Warnings: Potentially triggering subject matter and self-harm.
Summary: A series of glimpses into the life of Sam Winchester as he deals with an eating disorder. Maybe he's always been this way. Sam knows that he's afraid of stopping, and Dean knows he's afraid of what will happen if Sam doesn't. This is fiction based on fiction, but there are some spoilers for Season 1.
Diclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Supernatural television series.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
It wasn't always like this.
Dean watches his sleeping brother not knowing what to do but knowing that this has gone way beyond the point of remaining neutral. Because as it was, doing nothing was killing his brother.
Sam's large frame was not made to handle malnourishment.
There were bruises on his brother's body. A mattress shouldn't bruise a person, but that's what happens when there is no real flesh lying between protruding bones and a solid surface.
Sam tripped the other day getting out of the car, and Dean barely caught him before he hit the ground.
That moment is what has him set on edge.
Dean shouldn't have been able to almost close his hand around his brother's bicep. He shouldn't have been able to feel his fingers dipping into the spaces between Sam's ribs. And he shouldn't have been able to pull his much taller brother up with so little effort.
Sam had become a shadow of his former self. He's weak. He's fragile. He's too tall to be as skinny as he is. He's dying. It's a slow, torturous death. But it is what it is.
It wasn't always like this.
The only sound in the quite motel room is the low hum of the air conditioning and the occasional rumble from his brother's empty stomach. Sam could promise him all day that he "wasn't hungry" or that he didn't "feel like eating" or that he would "grab something later," but none of those lies could hide the fact that Sam's body was constantly calling out for something that it was being refused.
Dean hates the burning, hollow sensation of hunger, and he can't understand how Sam lives with it day after day.
Dean doesn't understand, but he knows he has to do something to stop this. It's killing him on the inside to watch his brother fade away right before his eyes. Dean can't help but think that Sam is doing this to punish himself, but Dean just can't figure out what for.
His brother is pulling himself into a deep, dark place, and it wasn't always like this.