Spn Imagines

Sam 1 Part 3

(Y/N) = Your Name

(Y/S/C) = Your Skin Color

(Y/H/C) = Your Hair Color

(Y/E/C) = Your Hair Color

Imagine Sam falling in love with you but you're finally catching on after you get injured on a hunt, barely surviving the wounds

"You're so stupid oh my god (Y/N)." Sam whispers, tears beginning to fill his eyes as he runs to the Impala.

"(Y/N)? Shit...." Dean doesn't say anything else as (Y/N) is placed on the back seats, Sam quickly joining (her/him/them.)

"C'mon... C'mon... C'mon... Dean! Drive faster!" Sam shouts, feeling around (Y/N)'s neck as he searches for a pulse. (Y/N)'s usually healthy (Y/S/C) skin is too many shades lighter for Sam not to worry about (him/her/them) bleeding out in the back seat of Dean's car.

"I'm hurrying Sam, dammit. Calm down, panicking isn't gonna help you or her." Dean growls, the Impala's tires squealing in protest as he sharply takes a turn and flies down another street. Sam refuses to let any of the tears gathering in his hazel eyes fall as he clutches (Y/N) to his chest, just on the verge of breaking down while he rocks back and forth.

"PleasePleasePleasePleasePleasePlease...." Sam whispers, holding (Y/N) as close as he can.

"Is she still breathing?" Dean asks, sounding like he got punched in the gut as he flies around another corner.

"Yeah... Yeah I think so." Sam's voice is muffled, his hand going over his mouth to stop a sob before it escapes. Even if (he's/she's/they're) breathing now, Sam knows it won't be long until (Y/N) stops breathing all together. "Please... Please (Y/N)... I love you... I love you." Sam repeats the last part, realizing it himself and breaking down when he realizes that (Y/N) might die never hearing him say it.

***

"Dude you've been at (his/her/their) side for almost a week now. (He's/She's/They're) okay. (He's/She's/They're) gonna wake up when they're ready." Dean tells Sam, crossing his arms and leaning against the doorframe of (Y/N)'s room.

"I agree, Sam." Castiel's deep voice echoes around the room, and Dean jumps away from the angel that appeared no more than three inches away from him. Dean didn't feel like now was a good time to yell at him about personal space. "(Y/N) will recover and wake up in at least three days. (He/She/They) won't appreciate waking up only to find you starved, dehydrated, and lacking sleep. Sam sighs, dropping his head into his hands. The bags under his eyes grow with each hour of sleep he doesn't get and Castiel's words hit home

"Alright... I love you (Y/N)." Sam says, like he has been for the last week. Castiel is the only one who notices the upwards curve of (Y/N)'s lips when the boys leave the room.