Supernatural Imagines

Tomorrow's Problems

Dean paced around the motel room, deep in conversation with Castiel. The apocalypse was taking its toll on him, and you could see it wearing him down every day. Now that Sam was gone, he had become even worse, going into a state that you couldn't bring him back from.

"No, Cas. Just give us a few hours, okay? We've been driving all night and we need some sleep." Dean flipped the phone shut, collapsing on his bed.

"You should call Sam." You spoke softly, sitting on the edge of your bed. "I know that you want to."

"Sam doesn't want to talk to me." Dean replied gruffly, trying to remain emotionless. As much as he liked you, he knew that you would never feel the same way. Sam was gone and Dean didn't want to risk pushing you away too. He couldn't handle being alone.

You laid back on the bed and let out a deep breath, not able to think of something to say. Sometimes you felt like giving up, but you knew that you would never be able to leave Dean's side. He was too important to you. It saddened you to think that you could chop off a vampire head without flinching, but you would never be brave enough to confess your feelings to Dean. With everything that was going wrong in the world, you didn't want to burden him with one more problem.

Dean's cellphone rang again just as the two of you had settled into your separate beds. "Cas, I-" Dean started in an annoyed tone. He stopped and sat up. "Sam?"

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Dean grabbed a beer out of the mini-fridge and began pacing again. You sat on the couch and listened to Sam on speaker. Things seemed to get more complicated every minute. Sam explained that Lucifer had come to him in a dream and told him that Sam was his true vessel.

"So, Lucifer's wearing you to the prom?" Dean joked half-heartedly. You could see in his eyes that he was broken. After everything that they had been through in the past, the last thing the Winchesters needed was another monster splitting them up.

"I guess so," Sam replied solemnly.

"I'm sorry, Sam." You spoke honestly. This whole situation seemed to break any spirit that you had left. You put your head in your hands and closed your eyes, trying to let go of all the pain that this had caused. Dean took notice of your actions.

There was a pause. "I want to come back," Sam spoke.

"You know that you can't do that, Sam." Dean warned. "Especially not after finding out the we're the fire and oil of the Armageddon. We'd be better off on different hemispheres."

"But Dean-"

"Hey, I'll call you back tomorrow," Dean picked up the phone. "Y/N needs some rest." He flipped the phone shut again, this time making sure to turn it off.

You felt him sit down next to you on the couch. His arm slung over your shoulder and you leaned into him. Somehow this only made you feel worse. "How did this happen?" You questioned. "Things used to be so simple. Now it's our fault if the world ends."

"Just don't think about it." Dean spoke quietly as he helped you stand. "Those are tomorrow's problems." He walked you over to your bed and layed you down, putting the covers on top of your sleepy figure. He wanted so badly to keep you in his arms and tell you that everything would be okay, but he couldn't do that. He couldn't lie to you.

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Dean woke up on the springs of the bed, unsure where the mattress had gone. He looked over to the right in panic, only to see the frame of your bed thrown into the corner of the room. Everything about the place he had just been in seemed worn and rotten, like it had been abandoned ages ago.

"Y/N?" Dean spoke, looking around the room. You were nowhere to be seen. He noticed the wind blowing through an empty window, making the torn curtains drift around lazily. He slowly approached the window, only to see that the street outside was filled with rusty abandoned cars, and there wasn't a person in sight.

Dean left the dirty motel and began to wander around the streets, looking for any sign of life. He was drawn to the rustling in the back of an alley. A little girl was bent over the ground, not paying any attention to Dean approaching behind her.

"Little girl? Are you lost?" He called softly, just before noticing the puddle of blood she was bent over. Before he knew it, she was attacking him with a shard of glass. He saw her frenzied expression right before his instincts made him rear back and punch her, leaving the girl unconscious.

What the hell was going on? Dean hadn't seen anything like this since...

"Oh, crap," Dean muttered as he looked up to see the word "CROATOAN" scrawled on the alley wall in red spray paint. A large crowd of the beasts suddenly emerged from the end of the alley, chasing him down the street. As Dean approached a dead end, he noticed the large fence that was blocking the exit. He was intent on jumping it, but was interrupted by 2 very large Militia trucks that were loaded with machine guns. Dean quickly dove into another alley, avoiding the rapid gunfire from the big trucks.

The Croatoans on the street went down quickly and soon the only noise that could be heard was the blaring music from the trucks. As soon as it faded away, Dean snuck out of his hiding place, trying to find a working car to hotwire.

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Night had fallen and Dean had become desperate. After an encounter with the angel Zachariah, Dean found out that he had been sent 5 years into the future. Apparently the angel was using a new tactic to try to convince Dean to say yes to Michael. After refusing, Zachariah promised his return and disappeared, leaving Dean still full of questions.

The first place Dean went was the one that he hoped to be practically untouched, but Bobby's house was as torn up as the rest of the world. The only clues to where anyone could be was a photo in his secret bunker. A large crowd of people, including Y/N and Cas, was standing next to a sign that read "CAMP CHITAUGUA". Dean located the camp on a map, and began to drive, desperately seeking answers.

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Dean ditched his junk car a few blocks away from the camp and began to walk, trying to stay away from the guards around the camp perimeters, and any Croatoans that might have been lurking around. He eventually found a tall patch of grass, and began to make his way into the camp. Dean stopped cold when he saw the beat up remains of his Impala, scattered around in the grass. The windows were all broken and the frame was bent. It was almost physically painful for Dean to see, but he couldn't keep his eyes away.

"Oh baby, what did they do to you?" Dean leaned down and looked through the driver's side.

A sudden jolt of pain rushed through his skull as he fell to the ground, realizing that someone had just elbowed him. Barely conscious, he looked up at the figure who had knocked him down.

"Y/N?" Dean asked, surprised. You looked rugged and worn, just like the rest of the world.

"What should we do with him?" You spoke to the person standing behind you, paying no attention to Dean on the ground.

"Bring him back to my tent. Whatever he is, I've got questions." Dean heard his voice ring out. What scared him was that it didn't come from his own mouth.

Dean only got a short glimpse at his doppelganger before you brought down your fist and sent him into unconsciousness.

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