Supernatural Imagines

Guilty (part 1)

You grumpily flopped into bed, tugging the cold sheets up to your chin. Unbelievable. You thought. Fucking unbelievable.

About ten minutes later you heard Sam open the bedroom door. He didn't turn on the lights- instead he went straight to the bathroom connected to the room you shared. He shut the door a split second before he turned on the light- not wanting to disturb you.

You listened intently to the shower running. Was he still pissed too? Sam never yelled the way he did not half an hour ago.

The water soon shut off and the door swung open to reveal Sam with a towel tucked around his waist. He wrung his hand through his hair before stepping over to his dresser. You turned in the opposite direction, your back to him.

He opened and slammed drawers shut before the bathroom light went out, and you rolled back over so your back would be to him again in bed.

He climbed in and pulled his side of the covers up to him. You stared at the blinds, filtering slants of moonlight onto the hardwood floor.

"Y/N? Are you awake?" He finally sighed quietly. You didn't reply. You were going to milk the apology out of him. You were going to make him feel guilty. How dare he not tell you anything about his past, when you were practically an open book to him?

"Y/N, I'm sorry I can't tell you. I just... It's too complicated. And I don't want you getting caught up in it. It took me forever to build this life with you- I don't want to lose it. I want you to be safe."

Sure. You rolled your eyes at the framed picture of you and him at the beach on your nightstand. Whatever helps you sleep at night.

"Please, I just. Please, try to understand. All right, Y/N?"

You still stayed silent. You didn't want to understand- you wanted to know all about Sam Winchester. What was so bad about it that he couldn't bare to let you know?

"I know you're awake. You're just ignoring me." He muttered, shifting to his other shoulder, so he faced the door to the hall.

"Go to Hell." The sentence exited your lips almost without your knowing. It made you want to immediately yank them out of the air and burn them before they ever reached Sam's ears.

But you couldn't, and deep regret filled your heart. A tear rolled down into your hair. Then another. And soon you were whimpering quietly, hopefully soft enough that Sam didn't catch it.

"I'm sorry." You managed to choke out evenly. He didn't turn to face you. He didn't forgive you. He ignored you, just as you had ignored him. Your plan had back-fired, all because of those three little words, and at the end of the day, you were the one who felt guilty.