multifandom imagines

there is no glue - sam winchester

POV: first person 

Prompt: reader becomes suicidal and Sam tries to prevent that.

warnings: almost suicide, language

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The bunker was dull, lifeless, empty. I sat in the library for an hour, relating my insides to the bunker's emptiness. I was becoming depressed, realizing that I have a reason to be. Or multiple.

My family died, consisting of my parents and a younger brother, when I was only thirteen, all killed by vampires. Bobby Singer took me in after I tried to hitch a ride somewhere in South Dakota. I've been thinking a lot about my family and Bobby dying a lot lately, and I'm not sure why. I was obviously depressed, I wasn't going on hunts, I was acting really solemn and independent lately. Neither Sam nor Dean could tell that I wasn't okay, which spiraled me even further into depression.

The bunker is so empty currently because the boys are out on a small hunt. No surprise there. I sat in the firm wooden chair, thinking, staring, sorrowfully. What is the point anyway? I thought. The point of staying? Nobody actually cares for me, and nobody would make a big fuss.

Leading myself along those lines of depressing thoughts, I brought myself to the bathroom. I sat on the cold tiled floor thinking, how? How am I going to do this?  Quick and easy. That's how. I went into my room and grabbed my gun. I headed back into the bathroom, since it would be easier to clean up the blood. I might as well make somebody's life easier in two ways.

I checked the gun to see one bullet. Perfect. That's all I need. One bullet for many problems. I flinched as I heard the bunker door slam open. I could hear Sam shout, "Y/N! We're back!"

Hearing his voice made me hesitate. I still wanted to do it, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. I held the gun, my finger resting lightly on the trigger.

"Y/N?" I heard both Sam and Dean call out again. Just do it. You won't have to explain and be stopped if you just do it.  I raised the gun so it was in line with my temple. I pushed it against my head, still hesitating.

"Y/N? Are you in there?" I heard Sam ask from outside the door. I didn't respond as he tried opening the door. "Y/N, what are you doing?!" Y/N!!"

He was banging on the door, and I was about to do it. It was against my head, trigger so close to being all the way down, until it shot the ceiling instead. I noticed that it was Sam who had finally busted in, and moved the gun away from my head.

"What the hell Sam! That was my only bullet!" I yelled angrily at him.

"Yeah, and that'll be your only one," he said, tears streaming down his face. Seeing him cry made me start to cry myself, upset that he didn't let me do it.

"Why didn't you let me? I needed to, Sam! Why did you stop me?" I questioned him loudly, sobbing as I looked up at him. He sat down beside me.

"I think I should be asking the questions here. Why were you going to do it? What reasoning do you have?" He asked, but I didn't respond. I was still angry with him. "Why, Y/N?" I still didn't respond. "Y/N WHY?" he finally shouted.

"Because of everything, Sam! I've been thinking about my family dying right in front of me a lot lately. And then my other family dying. I have a terrible life! I loved my family so much, and then I got another family, which was real small but made me happy. Then once I finally feel happy away from a family with you guys, he goes and dies! And i'm obviously depressed, and you and Dean haven't even noticed! Maybe if you weren't so fucking invested in your hunts, you might actually notice your surroundings." My face was now drenched in my tears and I shouted my explanation. "I'm so broken, and there is no glue strong enough to put me back together, Sam."

Sam also was covered in tears, his head in his hands. "Wow, this is all my fault," he confessed. "I'm sorry, Y/N," he looked back down at me. "I'm so, so sorry. Just please, talk to me about it. Don't ever, ever  try killing yourself again. You hear me? Or talk to Dean! Do you know how much he cares about you too? Please, don't do it. I'm begging you, Y/N." He breathed out those last words, and I crawled into his lap and hugged him, sobbing into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Sam."

"Me too."

After we sat there, hugging each other in silence for around five minutes, I finally said, "I love you, Sam."

"I love you more," he responded, and kissed me.

Don't do it.

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I don't know why, but i'm stronger in writing depressing themes than happy scenes, which I should probably change a little bit,,,

But hey im proud of this and DONT DO IT!! DONT OFF YOURSELF!! PLEASE!!!

Thanks