Supernatural Imagines/One shots

Djinn - Sam

Character: Sam
Type: Sad to cute
Word count: 1237

It was perfect. It was heaven. It was everything you could have possibly dreamed of, and it was all fake. 

"Y/n! You're home!" Sam beams, wrapping you in a bear hug as soon as you step through the front door, "It was getting late, I was starting to worry!"

"Sam...?" you ask, confused. Your head throbs and you can't remember anything up until this moment.

He kisses you lovingly and you hold back a gasp. What is happening? 

"I made dinner," Sam smiles, dragging you by the hand into the dining room. Laid out beautifully are two portions of your favourite food. 

"Aw, Sam." you say, "It looks amazing."

He pecks you on the cheek and when you sit down in the chair that he's pulled out for you, everything comes flooding back. The djinn sneaking up on you, the scream that had left your lips... your old life. 

You knew it. Deep down, you knew it and it was the most excruciating pain you'd ever felt. Forget having your face punched, leg torn open, arm broken on previous hunts - this... this was more painful. 

A djinn had tackled you and sent you into a trance-like state. While your real body was tied up, comatose, slowly losing blood, your consciousness was trapped in this idyllic world of wish. In this world, you were married to Sam. You lived together in a cosy house in the city and although you both hunted from time to time, you had stable jobs, a stable home. You were a family. Dean, of course, lived next door with Castiel and a fridge that was always stocked with beer and pie.

Everyone was happy here. 

But here was a lie. And the knowledge was killing you a little bit every day.

You played along for a bit but now... This Sam is not the one you know, the one you love. That thought alone is what has driven you to sneak out of your shared bed and tiptoe down into the kitchen. 

With a shaking hand, you reach for a knife. The handle feels cool and smooth against your burning skin. The efforts you make to slow your rapid breaths are futile and your skin breaks out in a cold sweat. 

You stare out the window for a minute or so, wrestling with rationality. The only way to wake up from this dream is to die and you need to trust yourself on that. 

"Y/n? Oh, thank God." Sam's panicked voice is like a stab to the heart, although the knife is safely by your side. You turn to face him with tears in your eyes. You see Sam drop a gun to the floor, "What's wrong, y/n? I heard something - thought there was an intruder..." Then he spots it. The moonlight streams through the window, reflecting on the silver blade in your hand. You grip onto it for dear life and Sam cautions, "Y/n. Put the knife down."

"Sam..." you croak, the word broken and cracked. "Stay back. Please."

Suddenly, Sam's eyes shift. It's a new glint, something pleading and mildly sinister. "Please, you don't have to do this. You know this life is what you want."

You press your lips together, shaking your head. 

"Please, you know it is. I love you, y/n. You love me. The other Sam doesn't. You know this is the only way for us to be together and you have the power to choose this life. Put the knife down, please, y/n."

"Sammy, I have to. I'm dying." A tear slips down your cheek and when you see that Sam's eyes are glossy with tears too, your heart breaks. 

"No, you're here, with me. Whatever is happening there doesn't matter because this... this is where you belong. Put the knife down, you don't want to hurt yourself." he repeats, his eyes begging me to do as he asks. 

"You're... you're right. I - I don't want to hurt myself..." you choke, tears freely streaming now. 

"Yes, y/n, that's it, give me the knife."

"I don't want it to hurt..." you sob, shaking your head. Without second guessing yourself, you take the gun that Sam had discarded on the floor and shoot a bullet through your temple.

------------------------

Dean slaps you hard across your face and your eyes burst open. 

"Told you it would work," gloats a smug, disembodied voice. 

You're barely able to keep your eyes open though as you hear ropes being cut and the revolting sound of your own meagre coughs. Someone is speaking to you in a desperate, hushed tone but you can't for the life of you comprehend their words. 

----------------------

When your eyes open for the second time, you feel soft sheets under you and a hand on top of yours. 

"How are you feeling?" It's Sam. He squeezes your hand gently and you push yourself up slowly to lean back on some pillows.

"I'm okay," you say, which is partly true. The relief you feel is incomparable but your whole-body aches.

"You lost a lot of blood, but it could have been worse. For now, just rest."

"Thanks, Sam. I... It was so scary." you whisper, feeling like you should be embarrassed but you're too fatigued to care.

"I know, I know." he soothes, stroking your hair with the hand that isn't holding yours. "But you're safe now. I am so proud of you for coming back to us."

You smile sadly. "Yeah."

He lets out a sharp, humourless laugh. "I was losing my mind looking for you. Dean was telling me that he thought we'd lost..." he swallows, and continues in a quieter voice, "Lost you for good. But I knew you were strong. I knew you wouldn't leave me."

You wonder if Sam has any idea how much his words mean to you. He carries on, looking into your eyes, "I hope you know that I care about you so much. So, so much. This whole thing has made me realise that I would never be able to live without you."

You blink.

He looks away, "I'm just really glad you're okay."

"We were married." You say, quieter than a whisper.

"What?"

"We... we were married." You tell Sam, not meeting his gaze. "I didn't even know I wished it. It just... we were married."

"We were married?" Sam repeats, disbelievingly. "Are you... do you...? I mean, have you...?"

You smile, but when his eyes meet yours, your heart drops. What if he doesn't feel the same way? "I... I hope this doesn't ruin what we have but I... I like you. Like, a lot. And if you don't feel the same, it's fine because I'll never stop caring about you -"

"Y/n," Sam cuts you off, "Didn't you hear what I just said? I thought it would be pretty obvious that I like you too."

You freeze. Sam senses you stiffen and asks warily, "Y/n? You okay?"

"Nope," you squeak. "Give me a minute." 

Sam grins and looks down. You try to process the news, but it doesn't seem to sink in. Sam Winchester likes you back. Is this the dream world? Your eyes dart around the room, searching frantically for any anomalies. Everything looks normal. 

The door opens with a soft click and Dean waltzes into the room, giving you his signature smirk, "Glad you're awake, y/n. How are you feeling?" 

"Weird." you state. 

"Fair enough," he replies. He promptly leaves, leaving you and Sam alone again.

"So...?" Sam presses, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes. I am very much more than okay."