Sad Supernatural Imagines

#31 BSM - Perfect Christmas

Request from HaileyMalouin. I hope this is what you asked for!

You're five
Sam is eight
Dean is thirteen

Y/N p.o.v:

You woke up to no one in the motel room. It was Christmas day. Your dad didn't promise to be here, but your brothers did. You got up and started making Christmas presents for your big brothers and dad. You stuck your tongue out as you concentrated on the picture you were coloring. You smiled as you finished it. It was of your dad training you to hunt. You started to work on the next present, which was for Dean. You grabbed the markers and popsicle sticks and started to work. After you finished, you squealed as the sticks looked exactly like your big brother, you, and Sammy. You pushed the sticks aside and grabbed a piece of paper and started to draw. This present was for Sammy. You furrowed your brows in concentration. You drew stick figures of you and Sam. Sam was teaching you to catch a ball. You drew the impala in the background and a house. The sun was in the upper right corner. You smiled widely, happy with all of your hard work. You grabbed the news papers that Dean stole for you and started to wrap the presents. You wrote down the names, which the writing looked like chicken scratch, of each family member the present was for. You grabbed the presents and ran to your bed. You stuffed them under your bed. You waited for your family to get back. 3, 4, 8 hours passed. The clock now read 9:14 p.m. You sighed and tears started to blur your vision. You didn't want to spend Christmas alone and not be able to give your presents to your family. Then, the door opened. Your tears suddenly disappeared as Dean ran in and picked you up.
"Bug! Merry Christmas!" He yelled. You squealed.
"Bean!" You yelled. Dean spun you around as you laughed. You saw Sam walk in through the door and immediately wanted to give him his present. Along with your father and Dean. You struggled out of Dean's grip. He set you down and let you go. You ran to your bed and grabbed the presents. Your arms struggling to hold the bunches of paper. You weren't very good at wrapping. Dean smiled and so did Sam, but your father didn't look too pleased, but you couldn't see it. You gave Dean the present that said his name. You did the same with Sam and your father. Dean opened his present and smiled at the popsicle sticks. Sea walked over to you and hugged you tight.
"Thank you so much, Y/N." He whispered in your ear. You hugged back before eagerly looking at Sam and your father. Sam had opened his with a smile. He walked over to you and hugged you.
"This is amazing. Thank you." He said. You hugged back before watching your dad open his present. He looked it for only a second before glaring at you. Your smile faded as your father came closer.
"You made this and those when you could have been doing more important things?!" Your dad asked. His voice got louder with each word he spat at you. You backed up and away from him.
"Bwut-" Your father stopped you. (Idk how a 5 year old talks. Sorry😅)
"No 'buts', Y/N! You could have been training! You could have been cleaning up the room. You could have been exercising!" He yelled. Tears clouded your vision. They cascaded down your cheeks in waves.
"I'm sorry." You cried. You walked over to Dean and took the sticks out of his hands. You also went to Sam and grabbed the drawing.
"Bug, what are you doing with those?" Dean asked. You sniffed, tears still falling, and walked over to the trash can. There were already papers from failed attempts in it. You dropped the presents in the bin and then walked to your father. He looked like he regret yelling. You knew what regret was. What it looked like. You held out your small hand for the drawing you gave him. Sam ran to you and pulled you away. He had his drawing in his hand. Dean was right beside you and Sam with his sticks too.
"She's 5 years old, Dad! How could you be so heartless?! She's a kid. She shouldn't have to go through the crap we have to. I've always been faithful. I've never argued back. I've always been Daddy's blunt little soldier, but this is too much. This has gone way too far! What you do to us is considered abuse. A child shouldn't go through what we do. We lost our mom, yeah. We lost her to something supernatural, but this is your revenge. Not ours. I miss her. I miss her a lot. We all do, but what are we going to do once we catch the bitch who killed her? Keep hunting? Be normal? You don't know. But if we stop now, we can be normal. It isn't too late. If you want to keep going, you got ahead. Get killed. Going to hell will teach you a lesson. A lesson you should've learned now." Dean said. Dean looked at you with a smile.
"Dean is right. You need to realize how the way you treat her is going to affect how she thinks of herself as she grows. The way you treat us affects us how we think. Think about what you are doing to us." Sam said. Sam kissed the top of your head. You looked up at your father who said nothing. His face looked sad. He looked at you and sighed.
"I'm sorry, baby." He whispered. Your father sounded like he meant it. You stared at him, thinking about walking over to him. You hesitantly walked over to him. You smiled when he did.
"Do you wike da dwawing?" You asked. Your dad's smile widened as he nodded.
"I do, pumpkin. Thank you. It's the best ever. You're the best ever." Your dad whispered. You jumped towards him and hugged him.
"I wove you, Daddy." You said. He hugged you back.
"I love you too." He said. This might not have been the best Christmas ever, but it was better than not having one. It was the perfect Christmas for you.

A/N:

This might not have been what you wanted, but I tried.