Supernatural Imagines/Prefrences

Imagine Being Turned Into A Werewolf On A Hunt

"I thought I told you it was taken care of, there was no need to bring (Y/N) into this mess, Dean!" The two brother's bickering continued back and forth, this whole fight had been going on for the last hour or so. I told them it was fine, I was fully able to take care of myself in a hunt, even if that meant putting myself in the line of danger. Like a deer in the headlights. For some reason, unsurprisingly, Sam was rather butthurt over the option I had agreed to tag along with Dean. When things backfired and I ended up taking a hard hit, Sam lost his shit and went off on Dean. Leaving me to clean my wounds, or more so my wound.

A werewolf bite.
A claw mark up my forearm, a gash on my forehead and a bruise on my ribs the size of a basketball.

It didn't matter anymore anyways, I was one of those things, the monsters we hunted. A werewolf. A loud exasperated sigh escaped my lips, throwing the bloodied rag I used to clean the floor onto the counter. The hair on the back of my neck rose, "It's already done, there's no point in fighting, both of you just need to shut up." I spoke up clearing my throat.

Dean placed a hand on my shoulder, giving it an encouraging squeeze, "Sam's right though, (Y/N), I should've been more careful. I should've seen her coming and—"

"Just shut up for a second, it wouldn't have mattered what you would've done, Dean. There were three of them. If you stopped one another would've just came for me. It was my choice to tag along with you, and this is what I have to live with now. Being one of them. I'm a monster."

Dean's jaw clenched at that all familiar word 'monster', "You're no monster. C'mon, we'll figure this out. There has to be some way to reverse this. There's no point in giving up before we've even started."