Supernatural Imagines{Completed}

Stay or Leave

Winchesters×Sister!Reader

Warnings: Depression, self-harm, blood, angst, drinking, language, thoughts of suicide, feels.

Second Point of View

Another finished hunt and you nearly got yourself killed and your brothers were pissed. It was your first hunt. They thought you couldn't protect yourself. Well, maybe you were trying to get killed, there won't be blood on your hands. You were always stuck at home, aka the bunker. You mostly stayed in your room or the bathroom with a blade.

Scars ran up your arms but you always covered them over when your brothers were around. You didn't want the attention. You later in the back seat of the Impala when it came to a stop. You nearly jumped out of the car when you heard Dean hollering after you. It was always when you would get into a fight with Dean. Sam was the more comforting brother.

Neither of them knew what was going on in your head. They didn't need to know. It is what a Winchester does, hide their feelings so no one else knows about it. There are already voices in your head telling you your insecurities.

Depression is like a black dog, it attacks when it finds you in a weak spot. Medication doesn't help, only to quiet the dog down from its constant barking. But when the medicine fades the dog grows angrier than before. It only attacks because that is what it does.

Hang-man, that child game we all played. It has a deeper meaning to it. That, by saying the wrong things, can end up killing someone.

Dean continued yelling at you and when he grabbed your arm to turn you around, you nearly snapped.

"You are never going on a hunt again! You almost got yourself killed out there! If you weren't so stupid and ignorant, we wouldn't have had a problem!"

'You here that, he doesn't even care.' Your inner voice chanted.

"You could have killed Sam or me with you! How will you live with yourself, knowing one of us could be dead!? I have-" You were face to face with him and you haven't said a word.

"Dean, give her a break! It was a mistake!" Sam yelled at Dean.

'Right, how many mistakes have you made (Y/n)? Too many. Might as well make sure there aren't any more.'

"(Y/n) go to your room." Sam said quietly.

"Goodnight Sam, goodnight Dean." Tears dropped from your eyes. That was the last they were going to hear from you. You turned around and went to your room. You immediately locked the door and put a chair in front of it, holding it in place. You dropped onto the ground near your bed. Tears streaming down your face as the mascara dripped along with it. I grabbed my blade, freshly cleaned as if it were new. I couldn't will myself to hang, or a gunshot through the head. Bleeding out was the most painful, and it was worth it.

You dragged the blades vertically on your arms. Watching the blood pour from your arms and onto the ground. The carpet turned from white to dark red. You leaned your head back on the bed, letting the pain flow through you.