Supernatural Sister Imagines

Imagine #124: Drabbles 2

Imagine: I ain't need to explain y'all are smart.

Age is mostly going to be sixteen.

Warnings: emotional abuse, language, blood

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Drabbles #5: So this is actually based on a really old request that I failed to see from Winchesterbros2005  i am really sorry that I didn't see your request but I really like it so I decided I'd add it lmao anyway here we go.

The age for this one will be a bit younger, reader is around 13.

"Y/n, are you sure you're alright? That cut looks nasty." Sam said, grasping his sister's inner elbow and pulling her back to face him, gesturing to the bloody, fleshy, claw-shaped cuts that streaked across her cheek. He attempted to take her chin in his hand to inspect the injury, ignoring the pain of his own cuts and bites in his arm and shoulder, but she was quick to pull her face from his grasp, her eyes downcast.

"I'm fine, Sammy. I just want to get this cleaned up and be buried in bed before Dad gets home." She said, her voice shaky with fear at the mention of her abusive father. All she wanted was to be in a place where he had no way to see that she'd made a mistake, but she knew he would eventually see the injury either way.

It was her fault her brothers were hurt. It was her fault she was hurt. She should have been more careful; should've paid more attention. Maybe then, they wouldn't have gotten hurt. Sam sported claw marks on his arms, as did Dean, as well as a bite in his shoulder. Dean had a nasty bruise on his eye and a few of his own cuts.

Y/n instinctively flinched when Dean slammed the door to the Impala behind her, only calming when she saw that it was him walking toward her, not her father. "If he tries to say something to you, Y/n, I might snap."

"Don't, Dean," She said instantly, "It's bad enough he hates me, I don't want to give him reason to hate you, too."

Dean scoffed, his eyes on the sidewalk. "I don't care if he hates me. The way he treats you, it's— it's not right."

Y/n gave a sad smile, her fingers grazing the sleeve of his jacket to show her appreciation as she unlocked the motel room and stepped into the dark, Sam and Dean close behind.

"Where the hell have you been?" Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin as she flicked on the light only to find John waiting in the middle of the room, his arms crossed. He spotted the crusty wound on her face and his anger doubled, his eyebrows stitched together. "You went with your brothers on their hunt, then? After I said it wasn't a good idea; that you'd just do something stupid and get hurt? And from the looks of you, I don't need to tell you I was right."

Sam and Dean walked in behind her and John's gaze shifted, his steely eyes taking over their injuries before landing back on her, flames now ignited within them. "And the boys are hurt? Did you even try to help them, or were you too busy trying to fight off the squirrel that attacked your face?"

"She was the one who saved us, Dad," Sam defended his sister, matching his father's anger, "She killed the werewolf. Yeah, we got hurt, but she saved us."

"What could she do?" John sneered, gesturing to her small frame, "She's so puny it's a wonder she can carry her own weight."

Dean scoffed, his voice barely above a mumble. "Maybe if you fed her every once in a while, she wouldn't be so thin."

"God," John ignored his oldest and continued, the tears in your eyes only serving to edge him on, "You have got to be the stupidest person I've ever met. You really couldn't stop them from getting hurt?"