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“You’re on lock down. No if’s or but’s about it, you are staying in this god damned room until you are completely clean.” Dean growls, blocking the doorway.
“What do you mean?” You ask, “Clean from what?” In response Sam looks down at the little yellow bottle in his hands twisting it open and examining the little yellow and green capsules.
“What are they? ADHD meds? Amphetamines? Morphine?” He looks at you with indescribable disappointment.
“They help me focus, lots of people take them it’s not bad.” You look between the brothers pleadingly, “We all have our vices! You don’t see me forbidding your alcohol consumption do you?”
Sam tries to reason, “There’s no need to get defensive, I know-“
“Defensive?” Dean interrupts, “She jumped off that boat and straight to offensive. You nearly took my finger off after the stunt you pulled yesterday.”
“I’m sorry, I wasn’t myself. I just needed to think and you scared me.” You explain feeling them overpower your will to get out of punishment.
“I’ve been there.” Sam says crossing his arms, “I’ve crossed boundaries and done things, become addicted to things, that I’m not proud of. But you’re the good one, the strong one, why in hell would you do something like this?”
You felt yourself build with frustration, “They help me think! I fight better! I’m a better person!”
“You haven’t eaten or slept in days!” Dean barks, there was no room for mercy when it came to you, “I come home and find out you sleep walk all the way to the roof of the next door factory and you expect me to just hand you every privilege you think you have right back? You could kill someone!” He pauses, “You could kill yourself.”
“I won’t. I can handle this, I’ll go cold turkey but this little confrontation is a waste of time guys,” You were fuming, hands balled at your side and a snarl on your face, “I know what I’m doing.”
“Don’t be stupid.” Sam scoffs.
Dean smiles, “I’ve heard it, all of it, before from little Sammy here. Don’t get me started on how pissed I was with him, but you, oh are you going to wish you were Crowley’s bitch then here with us for your little sobriety exercise.” He circles his finger around the perimeter of your room, where you were going to stay for quite a while.
“Phone.” Sam demands holding out his hand. You scoff.
“All your phones, your laptop, your music, in fact, every electronic thing you own and I mean everything.” There was no joking tone or room for persuasion in Dean’s voice. He was at his wits end with worrying for you. And since you didn’t sleep, he worried he couldn’t get to you in time.
You look shocked, this was ridiculous. Taking your phone away? What the hell!!?
“Also your lock pick, hair pins,” Sam frowns, “Hold on I’ll get a bag.” He leaves. Dean crosses his arms and leans by the doorway.
“I’m telling Cas to ignore you too. He isn’t going to zap you out of here like the little favourite you are. You are staying put until you can stand up without looking like you’re going to cack all over my shoes.” He rubs his head.
“You look terrible.” You state.
“You’re no princess yourself.” There was a break of thoughtful silence, “You know we’re just doing this to keep you safe.”
“Yeah I know, I just wish it didn’t have to be like this, I wish you could trust me to handle it.” You step back and plop on your bed, the springs groan on the extra weight.
“I’m not taking any chances.”
Sam returns and begins his lap around your room removing everything electronic and placing it in a spare gun duffle. He heaves it on his shoulder and you look at it sullenly. “What am I meant to do now?” You ask.
“You are going to think about how utterly disappointed we are.” He pulls the door over and flicks the lock, “Get clean (y/n).”