Supernatural Sister Imagines

Imagine #56: Hey Jude

Imagine: Singing to Sam to help him get to sleep.

Age: 15

     "Sam? Are you alright? I can hear you rolling around next door in my room." You spoke quietly as you entered Sam's bedroom, watching his writhe in the sheets, obviously uncomfortable. He let out a long sigh, reaching to turn on his lamp and sitting up just enough to look at you, propped on his elbows.

     "I can't sleep, kid." He admitted. You smiled sympathetically, almost instantly moving toward the bed.

     "Thinkin' about the hunt?" You asked. He gave the smallest of nods.

     "Unfortunately."

     "I think I can help with that." You said quietly as you sat beside him, leaning against his headboard with your legs crossed. You patted your lap and he allowed himself to fall into it with another long sigh, his brown hair flowing across your legs. You began to sift your fingers through his hair, reaching over to turn off his light.

     "Just relax, Sam," You said soothingly, your whispering voice like velvet in his ears, "I'm here."

     "Sing to me, baby girl." Sam mumbled as his closed his eyes, his breathing beginning to even out. You smiled and complied, your voice one of the most beautifully gentle things Sam had ever heard.

     "Hey Jude, don't make it bad," You began, remembering the song that Sam and Dean's mother used to sing to them when they were young. Even in the pitch dark, you could see Sam smile.

     "Take a sad song and make it better. Remember to let her into your heart, then you can start to make it better." You sang, your voice wispy and soft and loving. Sam brought his arm above his head and wrapped it around your waist, stroking your side with his thumb as he began to doze off.

     "Hey Jude, don't you be afraid. You were made to go out and get her. The minute you let her under your skin, you begin to make it better."

     You didn't even need to finish the song. Sam was sound asleep, his arm fallen from you and his head turned to the side as he snored softly through his nose, his chest rising and falling gently.

     You gently lifted his head from your lap and laid it on his pillow, draping his sheets over him before tip toeing quietly to the door.

     You nearly screamed when you exited Sam's room only to come face to face with Dean in the hallway.

     "Dean, what's wrong?" You said, squinting at him in the dark.

     "I um, do- do you think you could come sing it to me?" He asked sheepishly, a silhouette revealing that his hand had come up to scratch the back of his neck. You smiled softly, finding his face and the dark and pulling it to you to kiss.

     "Of course I can, you dork."