Only A Little Crazy

You couldn’t stop shaking; it wasn’t that you were cold, or that you were particularly scared or anything. The people in the white coats said you had “perpetual shock” and that was why you shook.
You liked the room that the people put you in and you didn’t really like seeing anyone else. You knew they thought you were crazy and you only sort of knew what the place you were staying in was: the place that all the mental and insane people went.

Most days you would just sit in your room and rock yourself, counting the tiles in the ceiling; other days you would find the courage to peek outside your window or doorway at the white jackets and strange people in orange jumpers.
It was on this day that you felt adventurous enough to peek out the doorway, holding your knees against your chest. You peeped out, warily, at the people walking around.
That was when you saw him; someone new.
He was very, very, tall and a shorter man was talking to him; only the tall one was wearing orange. You knew that meant that he was going to live here.
You shrunk back against the wall timidly when the man looked at you curiously.
You waved bashfully. He smiled and waved back. You blushed and hurriedly closed the door.

You thought about the tall man for a while, sitting on your bed with your back against the wall. The people that weren’t real discussed him; well, the people in white coats said those people weren’t real but they seemed real.
They told you that you should talk to him; you told them you’d think about it.
The white coats told you that it was time to get out of your room for a while. You didn’t really want to but you did as you were told.
Almost instantly you found the tall man; he was sitting in the corner, looking out the window.
You slowly made your way over to him, ignoring the not-real people and their comments; you couldn’t really tell who was real and who wasn’t anymore.

You sat across from the man and remained perfectly silent, looking at his long hair and his handsome face and his sad hazel-green eyes.
He didn’t notice you sitting there so you decided to speak up.
“Hi…” you said quietly. He almost jumped at your voice and he looked at you.
“Hello.” He replied in a deep voice; you really liked his deep voice.
“Are you real?” you asked him, nervously biting your hand.
He smiled and it made you wonder if you said something funny.
You bit your hand harder.
“Yes. I’m real.” He said.
“Are you real?” he questioned you.
“I…I think so.” You replied, looking a bit confused and concerned. You’d never really thought about that before…
He chuckled.

“What’s your name?” he asked.
“(Y/N).” you said softly, looking down. You bit down harder on your hand in your anxiety.
“That’s a pretty name. I’m Sam.” He said. You drew blood from your hand.
“Sam.” You echoed.
“Hey, don’t bite your hand! You’re bleeding!” he warned, taking your hand from your mouth and startling you in the process.
“B-Blood…” you stuttered, staring at the blood with wide eyes as well as the wound on your hand. You shuddered and the not-real people started laughing. It frightened you.

Sam tore a strip of his jumper off and wrapped your hand up carefully and tied it off.
And that was when you realized that you weren’t shaking anymore. His hands were big and warm and he was still holding yours.
He looked at you sternly.
“Don’t worry. There’s no more blood. I fixed it for you.” He said in a reassuring way. You calmed down and smiled for the first time in a long time. This was, you guessed, what the white coats called “being happy”.

Suddenly Sam let go of your hand and looked at something you couldn’t see; he looked scared and angry at the same time.
“Sam?” you asked, confused.
“Shut up!” he shouted. You got scared.
“Go away!” he hissed at the something; you thought he was mad at you so you ran to your room.
“W-Wait! (Y/N), I wasn’t…” You closed the door and sat on your bed, your eyes shut tight and your hands over your ears so that you couldn’t hear him anymore.
You started shaking again.

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The rest of the day you didn’t do much but rock yourself and keep your eyes shut. You did not sleep very well at all at night because you were shivering more than usual.
The people who weren’t real told you he wasn’t mad at you but you didn’t believe them and told them to go away.
You worried that Sam didn’t like you and it made you feel very sad.

You decided to leave your room and walk around in the empty halls like you sometimes did; the people in white coats didn’t know you did it. You picked the lock of your door; just because you were crazy didn’t mean you couldn’t be clever.

You walked around, as quiet as a mouse, and you peeked into other peoples’ rooms, seeing them peacefully sleeping. It was a hobby of yours; it made you forget about the people who weren’t real.
You got to Sam’s room and warily looked in to see him sleeping as well. You watched him silently for a few moments before moving on.

“(Y/N)?” you heard Sam call your name quietly.
You walked back over to his room.
“How did you get out there?” he asked.
You looked around nervously and shrugged.
“I didn’t mean to scare you, earlier. Do you believe me?” He said softly. You nodded and opened the door and walked in, careful not to make too much noise and wake anyone up. You sat down and leaned against his wall and stared at him warily, holding your knees against your chest; you liked him but he still scared you.
“Are you real?” he asked, slowly.
“…Yes. Are you real?” you questioned back, equally unsure.
“Yeah.” He said.
“Hey, I made you something.” He said, sliding off his bed and walking to his dresser. He was really tall; you liked that.

He walked over and sat down next to you, handing you a piece of paper. He watched you look at it with a sort of boyish hope in his face.
The picture was of a bouquet of flowers.
“I…drew you some flowers.” He smiled bashfully.
You smiled too.
“I like flowers…” said quietly. You leaned against him instead of the wall; he made you feel safe and warm and he made you stop shaking. He made you happy.
“I like you.” You whispered, defiantly not giving any of the not-real people your attention.
“I like you too.” He whispered back and held your hand.

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Every day you two would sit by the north-eastern window and just look; you would hardly ever talk. He would just hold your hand and make you stop shaking. You felt a security when you were around him and the people in the white coats said that it was good that you felt that way. The people who weren’t real looked angry when you were with them but you didn’t mind. He made you feel happy.
“N-No…go away…leave me alone…” he panted in his sleep. You liked to come and sit with him some nights; he’d draw you more pictures of flowers. You liked that. Tonight he was asleep but something was troubling him.
“Sam?” you poked his shoulder and he gasped awake.
“(Y/N)!?” he panicked. You held his hand and looked at him with a concerned expression.
“I had a nightmare…” he breathed, still looking scared. You kneeled without a word and laid your head on his chest. You liked the sound of his breath and the way it moved up and down slowly.
“It’s not real.” You assured him.
“But I’m real. And you are too.” You said quietly.

Sam’s chest began to shake and you lifted your head to look at him. He looked so scared and sad. Water was coming from his eyes; you remembered the water was called tears.
You were curious and you decided to touch your lips to one of the tears. It tasted salty. You kept kissing the tears because it made them go away.
Sam regained his composure after noticing what you were doing.
“What are you doing?” he mumbled in confusion.
You looked at him and scrunched your face up. Then you smiled widely.
“Eating your tears.” You said.
“They don’t taste very good, though.”
He laughed.

“What is scaring you?” you asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, while he sat up and leaned against the wall.
“I see a person who isn’t really there, but it feels like he is.” Sam explained.
“I see a lot of not-real people too. But they’re not very scary…except when they laugh.” You said.
“Oh…” he said distantly.
“He…he says he’s the Devil.” He added with a shiver. You remembered who the Devil was and he was certainly very scary.
“Is he real?” you asked, taking Sam’s hand again.
“…No. He’s not real.” Sam shook his head. You smiled.
“Good.”

Then Sam looked at you. He smiled and looked nervous. You smiled back.
He leaned forward and pressed his lips against yours. While this had never happened to you before, you quite liked it. His lips were soft and warm and it made you feel cozy; it made your face heat up and your heart beat faster.
“What was that?” you asked bashfully, smiling.
“I kissed you.” Sam said.
“Oh.” You replied softly.
“…Is that okay?” he asked worriedly.
“Yeah.” You said, nodding.

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Every night you visited Sam. You drew together, you kissed his tears when he was scared, he kissed your mouth when you were scared; he even tried to tell the not-real people around you to go away; it made you happy that he made you stop shaking. He promised that he’d make the people go away.
He told you all about his big brother, Dean.
Sam told you about how he stopped the apocalypse with his big brother and friends; you didn’t quite know what an apocalypse was but it was fascinating nonetheless.

But one day Sam wasn’t sitting at the window, there weren’t any pictures of flowers for you left on your dresser; he wasn’t there to kiss you when you were scared and you couldn’t kiss his tears away when he was scared.
You finally found him but he wasn’t sitting and staring; he wasn’t wearing the orange jumpsuit. He was standing with the shorter man from weeks before. He was really tall…

He turned and looked at you but he seemed different. The people who weren’t real laughed at you, making you shake again. You didn’t want to shake anymore so you walked up to Sam and grabbed his hand. The shorter man looked at you like you were strange.
“Woah there…” he said. Sam smiled at you.
“Hello, (Y/N).” he said in his deep voice. He looked happy. He got on one knee and set his free hand on your shoulder, looking up into your face.

“(Y/N), it’s time for me to go.” You didn’t understand; you held his hand tighter. Your hand was still wrapped in the cloth from his jumpsuit even though the sore was gone.
“I’m all better now, thanks to you.” He said. He leaned up and kissed your forehead and moved a strand of (H/C) hair out of your face.
You kissed his cheek where the tears would be, even though there were no tears.
“You’re not scared anymore.” You observed and smiled.
“Yeah.” Sam said.

He stood and you felt a bit of panic rise up in you. You grasped his hand again and breathed harder.
“Am I real?” you asked. You didn’t feel like you would be real if he wasn’t there to keep the not-real people away. Sam looked a little sad when you said that but he smiled regardless.
“Am I…real?” you asked, feeling a couple of tears fall down your face; you voice was shaky and your body was too.
He pulled you close and you wrapped your arms around him.
“Yes, you’re real.”
“Are you real?” you questioned.
“Yeah.”

“Sam, we gotta go.” The shorter man said, waving you off.
“Goodbye, (Y/N).” Sam said and let go of you, turning and walking away with the other man. You started to hyperventilate; you were really scared and you were shaking a lot. The people who weren’t real only laughed at you; they were scaring you.
“Don’t go.” You breathed quietly. You slumped to the ground and looked up to see Sam looking back at you. He began saying something and he argued with the shorter man.
Then the strangest thing happened. A man with blue eyes in a trench coat appeared suddenly and began to talk with Sam.
Sam pointed at you and said a few things you couldn’t understand. Then the trench-coated man walked over to you and set a hand on your head. You saw a white light and your body stopped shaking; the people stopped laughing. You finally felt at peace.

You opened your eyes slowly and looked around. You took a deep breath and everything seemed very clear. You felt yourself being picked up and you saw it was Sam. He was really strong.
“You made the people go away.” You said and smiled. He smiled sweetly in return and placed another kiss on your forehead.
“Just like I promised.”

Fin.