Supernatural Sister Imagines

Imagine #120

     "Alright, look. I've been trying to muster up the courage to say this to you guys for weeks now, but I've been kind of terrified. I didn't want to tell you because I didn't want you to be disappointed in me, I didn't want you to get mad."

     "—I'm becoming a hunter again. I know you guys gave everything so that I could have the chance for a real life, but after a year of living in a quiet house with quiet neighbors and a quiet job, I realized that I missed the noise."

     "I miss you. I miss Sam's hugs. I miss Dean's jokes. I miss being your little sister and I miss being with you and I want to come home. I want to be with you guys again, sitting in the back of the Impala, blasting music and listening to Sam complain cause it's too loud. I want to eat burgers with Dean and wonder how I'm not fat. I want to sit on the couch and watch Netflix and hold the two of you close to me because I know that if I have you and I can't lose you."

     "Being normal isn't enough for me. And, the longer I think about it, the more I realize that it never would've been enough. Being a hunter is in my blood. It's a part of me just like it's a part of you."

    "You don't have to worry about me getting hurt. I know that's why you tried to give me a normal life. You were scared. And now look what's become of it. But you don't have to worry. I have Cas, and in those rare moments when I'm not enough to keep myself alive, he'll be there to help me. I know that I can survive because I know who raised me."

     "I guess what my point is, is that I'm asking to come home. I want to come home. I want to be with you again. And I know you'll probably be angry and you'll probably be disappointed at me for giving up the life I know you'd give anything to have, but it doesn't mean a thing if I can't have you, too. I love you, both of you. And I want to come home."

     "I'm ready to get back into the world I know. It needs someone to keep it safe. So, Sam and Dean, please— can I come home?"

     And she stared at them, awaiting a response in the freezing snow.

     But she never got one, because gravestones don't speak.