Imagine #57: Sleep, Darling

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This imagine is dedicated to thestrals-

Imagine: You have nightmares and Sam and Dean help you out.

Age: 15

I was able to subdue them.
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The nightmares.
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I was able to push them down. At least for a while.

But you have to understand. A nightmare to you isn't a nightmare to me. They have two different meanings entirely.

     Your nightmares are of monsters, and blood. They leave you waking up with a quickened heartbeat, skin slick with sweat, and fearfully skittish eyes that scan the room for a threat that isn't there before you calm and sleep again.

     My nightmares are different.

     My nightmares are of abandonment-- betrayal. Of waking up with a heartbeat that has not simply quickened, but is practically running a marathon. With skin that is not simply slick with sweat but drowning in it. And with eyes that water and fill and overflow until I'm crying into my pillow, urging myself to go back to sleep only to remain awake for the rest of the night, no matter how exhausted I may be.

     So yeah, mine are different.

     They used to be worse. Then for a while they got better.

     But all of the sudden, it's like they've declared war on my mind.
     .
     .
     .
     .
     And I'm not sure if it's a war I can win.

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     We did it.

     It's over.
     .
     .
     .
     .
     Where are you going?

     Hey, wait for me!

     Why aren't you listening?

     Can't you hear me?
     .
     .
     .
     .
     No.
     .
     .
     .
     .
     Don't say that to me.

     You can't.

     You're supposed to take care of me.

     You're my family.
     .
     .
     .
     .
     You can't tell me you don't care.
     .
     .
     .
     .
     Please.

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     I woke screaming. That was a first. I'd never screamed before, the worst I'd ever done was cry, which I was. I cried as I slapped my hand over my mouth and forced myself to be silent, praying that they didn't wake.

     But they did.

     And they were there.

     And suddenly I couldn't hide anymore.

     "Woah, Y/n, baby, what's wrong?" Dean busted through my door first, knife and gun in hand, but once he realized that the only thing beside him and I in the room was my tears, he discarded the weapons and sat beside me on the bed. I didn't even get the chance to speak before Sam joined him.

     "Nothing. A dream, that's all." I tried to lie. Boy, did that work.

     "Y/n," Sam said gently, "We know you better than anyone. We know something's wrong. You can talk to us."

     I sighed then, knowing there was no way I could wriggle my way out of this one.

     "It really was a dream," I admitted, "It just, it was a really, really bad one."

     "What happened?" Dean said as he scooted closer to me and locked me up in his arms, placing his chin on my head with that deep sigh he made every time one of his siblings was hurt and he felt bad. Sam sat opposite Dean, taking both my hands in his and rubbing his thumbs over the backs of my palms in a comforting gesture.

"We were on a hunt, I guess. It- we finished and we were heading home, but it was like you guys couldn't see me. I-" I had begun to cry again, and Sam was quick to reach up and gently wipe away my tears, placing a kiss to the back of the hand he still held, "I kept calling and call-calling, and when you finally answered-" I paused, not wanting to go on.

"We answered--?" Sam murmured expectantly, both wanting an answer and knowing how much it hurt to give one.

"And you told me to leave," I stuttered out, and almost immediately Dean was drawing me closer with a sharp intake of breath, like he'd been punched in the gut.

"You told me to leave and you told me you never loved me or needed me or wanted me. You told me I was nothing more than a burden and you turned your backs on me and you left me." I blurted before falling silent, closing my eyes and leaning into Dean's embrace while tightening my hold on Sam.

"Y/n-" Dean began, but seemed unable to find the means to finish his sentence. Sam, however, didn't.

"Y/n, it doesn't matter what world you go to, what strange, deranged alternate universe you find yourself in, if there is us, there is you. We have never stopped and will never stop loving you for anything, and never will we leave you or tell you you are anything less than what you are."

"Y/n, you're my everything," Dean spoke up, his voice slightly muffled as his nose dipped into your hair, but he raised his head to be heard, "You're Sam's everything. In this world, this world full of monsters and pain and crap, you're all we've got. Complaining to you, making jokes with you, even when we wrestle like idiots on the floor, you're the piece that keeps us tied to a better life. Without you, I have no doubt that Sam and I would be dead. Please, please-- don't ever think that Sam and I would abandon you, or that we don't love you."

"You're our sunshine, anklebiter." Sam said fondly, giving a gentle smile, "We can't have that light going out, how else are we gonna see the way home to you?"

I cracked a smile then. A small, crumpled excuse for a smile as Dean kissed my hair and Sam my hands.

"Are you ready to go back to sleep?" Sam asked tentatively. I managed to nod.

"I am. But-" I hesitated, almost feeling silly, "-can you guys stay with me?"

"I'm pretty sure we'd both stay, regardless of whether you asked." Dean said, and I smiled once again.

Dean fell back, releasing me, and both brothers took up space on either side of me on the bed. It was tight and cramped and our breaths mingled in the blank dark, but it was perfect.

Sam and Dean both lay facing in toward me, an arm underneath me and an arm over me, leaving me in a car seat of Winchester bodies. They both laid their heads on either of my shoulders and their breathing began to even, however it soon became evident in the stiffly silent room that mine had not.

"Y/n, it's over. We're not going anywhere. Sleep, darling." Dean murmured, his voice so quiet it was like the words simply appeared from him rather than breathed from him. I heaved a long sigh, my head falling toward Dean's as my eyes closed.

My breathing slowed.
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For the first time ever, I didn't have to hide. For the first time ever, I didn't have to silently cry into my pillow.
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For the first time ever, I slept through the night.

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