Things are still weird.

But now, you have a kitten. Oh, and you have Sam Winchester, too.

Of course, it would be foolish to believe that you'd ever get a Happily Ever After. No hunter ever does. Even the djinn dream would've had its eventualities, however much you wanted to deny it at the time. Sheer happiness until the sweet release of death – what more could you ever want?

But in truth, you later realize – even if you could have a Happily Ever After, you're not sure you'd be able to accept it. Not if you felt that you didn't deserve it. No, you wouldn't be content with it – you'd never be content. But that's just part of who you are. You live your life in total darkness, and while it can be cold and lonely at times, it's home to you – and sometimes, even the mere flicker of a match can feel like sunlight. And that flicker can illuminate your whole world just long enough to get you through another day.

But Sam and Dean are a type of light that defy everything you've ever known. Their light never dims, never falters – never burns out, as each match eventually does.

It's naïve to think that Sam's love could save you. But he definitely helps. You try so hard for him – to be better, to feel better. Maybe it's unhealthy to be doing it for anyone but yourself, but the next time that you need stitches, the next time that you're in too deep – the utter devastation in his eyes when he witnesses you destroying yourself is enough to give you pause. It doesn't stop you – no, nothing ever really could – but that pause gives you just enough time to consider the consequences that your reckless actions may yield. It's more motivation than you've ever had to stop before – and you soon find that days can pass, then weeks can pass, then months can pass without you taking your fury, your hatred out on your own body.

You find yourself supplementing it with other vices to help with the urges. You drink a bit more than you used to, but at least now you're not doing it alone – you have Dean by your side, drowning his sorrows alongside yours. You start to run when you're upset – sometimes alone, sometimes with Sam – and maybe you're still running from your problems, but at least now it counts as cardio. You go to the shooting range when you're angry, hurting inanimate targets instead of yourself. You savor the pain that comes from being wounded on hunts, because that pain at least means something.

You cope. You relapse, as every addict is wont to do, and not a day goes by that you don't think about it, but you cope. And day by day, your life starts to feel just a little bit closer to the fantasy world that you were so very reluctant to give up. It takes you a very long time to understand that the only person whose love can save you is your own. And while you may think that you'll never feel that way about yourself, and while you may believe that you'll never truly feel whole, you take comfort in the thought that you are finally, finally trying.

The End

A/N: If you've made it this far, thank you so very much for taking your time to read this. Any and all feedback is really sincerely appreciated – it means more to me than words could ever express.

I know that the ending isn't much in the way of a resolution, but I hope that it may give you some peace. Maybe I'm a cynic – maybe it's just that my own story hasn't found its Happily Ever After. But that doesn't mean that it's impossible – and if you are battling mental illness, I sorely hope that you may find yours someday soon.

Even if you can't see the light at the end of the tunnel, take a deep breath, be patient with yourself, and let your eyes adjust to the darkness; the light is there – I promise. And it's not nearly as far away as it may seem.