Sad Supernatural Imagines :'(

hit me. (Part 3)

She fell face first from her truck into gravel.
The building was less than ten feet away.
Yara picked herself up and hobbled over to the entrance.
The handle was gone.
They'd broken it off, knowing she would try to go and rescue him.
She started throwing herself against the door, until finally thrusting herself just hard enough to break it open.
She fell onto the floor, for about the millionth time that day.
Her legs and arms throbbed from the impact, but she forced herself to her feet.
She limped her way down the halls of the decrepit building, listening for sounds of pain underneath the creaks of metal piping.
Sporadic screams began to echo throughout the building.
It was Matt.
-
Dean and Sam took turns using a heavy chain to crack against Matt's skin.
It made a terrible sound, and so did he.
"You're sick. You know that? Finding pleasure in beating a little girl. You know that she's only 18, right? You pig-"
Dean said as he slashed his back.
Matt screamed.
"OH GOD, PLEASE STOP"
He pleaded with them.
Sam took the chain from Dean and walked closer to Matt, his boots lining up with his knees.
He raised his arm to strike, but Matt begged.
"No, wait, Yar asked me to do it. She even paid me. I wouldn't hurt her if she didn't want me to, I swear. I care about her-"
Before he could finish Sam grabbed his hair and threw him backward.
"I'm gonna kill you-"
"Stop!"
Yara yelled as loud as she could manage.
She walked into the room.
A gun pointed directly at Sam's chest.
In a haste, the brothers pulled out their guns and aimed them at her.
Matt looked over at her and sighed in relief.
His eyes glistened like he'd seen divinity.
"Put the guns down."
She spoke quietly and shakily.
Her voice still recovering.
"You don't have the balls to shoot, so step away from him."
They didn't waver, but they did stare.
They studied her, admiring her new scratches and bruises.
"You can barely keep yourself standing."
Dean said with a sneering tone.
He quickly switched his aim from her to Matt.
Yara cocked her gun and aimed it at him.
Sam did the same towards her, lowering the gun until it lined up with her chest.
"You're right, but that doesn't mean I won't pull a trigger. We aren't murderers, Dean. Sam isn't going to shoot me, and you know you aren't going to shoot that kid. You know he's innocent. You know that if anyone in this room deserves to die, it's me. So put the fucking gun down, okay?"
She said softly, soreness evident in her tone.
The thought of having to shoot Dean inflamed her heart, but he wasn't giving her an option.
Her eyes almost sprung tears.
Dean tilted his head, slowly beginning to lower his gun.
Suddenly, he pulled the trigger, splattering Matt's blood across the floor.
"NO-"
Yara screamed, horrified.
Her blood ran cold, and she let out a gut-wrenching wail.
A few uneasy and silent moments passed, she then pulled a trigger of her own, shooting Dean in the shoulder.
Sam frightened, and without thinking, struck her in the chest.
Yara fell to the floor, once again.
-
She laid on the ground, weeping.
Not because her chest throbbed, or because she'd hurt her brother, but because she'd let her life come to that moment.
Laying on the floor, dying, next to her only friend who'd just gotten his brains blown out by her brother.
Everything was ending in blood.
Matt's life.
Her father's life.
And, from the new wound, her own life.
Her brothers stood over her.
One incredibly injured, and the other only injured by guilt.
"Why?"
She questioned no one in particular.
Why had Sam shot her?
Why had Dean killed that boy?
Why had she hoped to die?
Sam bent down to pick her up, but she refused his aid.
Crying in pain, whenever he tried to move her.
"Sam go get the emergency kit-"
"I don't wanna leave her-"
"I'm hurt Sam. You'll get back faster, GO!"
Sam took one good look at Yara, asking for any comfort she might offer.
"I forgive you."
She mouthed with a small, blood stained, smile.
His eyes filled with tears, and he ran off to get the supplies.
She moved her gaze to Matt, and reached for him desperately.
She was only close enough to lightly grasp his limp hand.
Dean kneeled next to her and turned her head to look at him.
"Hey, don't look at that...look at me-"
"I don't want...to look at you...You're dead to me."
She muttered shakily, blood spilling out of the corners of her mouth.
"Yara, come on-"
"No...no...You killed him. You killed..."
She trailed off as her vision had begun to blur, and her throat filled even further with blood.
She tightened her grip on Matt's hand.
"If I...survive this...I will never...speak to you...again...you...bastard..."
Regret infiltrated Dean's chest, but there was nothing he could do.
He did it.
He couldn't take it back.
His sister was dying, and he was the cause.
"Do you hate me?"
He asked softly, his throat closing to suppress the sobs that were attempting to claw their way out.
A tear slid down Yara's face.
"...could never hate you..."
She whispered before turning back to look at Matt's body.
He searched his mind for something to say, something to keep her there with him for as long as possible.
"Yara...why did you make me fight you?"
He genuinely wanted to know.
It was the one thing that he never got an explanation for.
She didn't answer.
"Yara?"
Dean delicately turned her head to face him, but her face was completely still.
"No...no, no, no, no, Yara."
He whimpered, pulling her body close to him.
Sobs shook his entire body.
-
Sam ran in with the med kit.
"Dean I got it. I got it..."
He trailed off as he saw the scene laid out before him.
He dropped down to his knees.
"No...she can't be...there's no way..."
He opened up the kit and started to search through it.
"I can't find the tweezers. I need to tweezers to get the bullet out-"
"Sammy-"
Sam continued to desperately throw things out of the kit, tears streamed down his face.
"No, because if I find the tweezers, I can help her. She'll be okay-"
"Sam, stop it-"
"Damn it, where are the fucking tweezers-"
"SAM ENOUGH...she's gone. It's over."
Dean cried out, frustrated.
"It's too late."
Sam broke down and toppled over until his forehead touched her blood soaked shirt.
"It's my fault,"
He mumbled through tears.
"I did this to her."
Dean grabbed Sam's shoulders, pulling him up and into him, Yara's body laid cradled in between their laps.
"This is so utterly heartbreaking. Hell, If it wasn't so damn funny I'd be crying."
A voice with a smooth southern accent cut through the sadness.
The brothers looked up to see Matt, who was very, very much alive.
"What the hell?"
Dean asked, bewildered, as he stood up, pulling Sam up with him.
"How are you alive-"
"Oh, you're confused. Your pal Matthew is...passing the bridge as we speak, fellas. My name is Ramiel, and I'm in need of a favor."
He states, flashing a pair of yellow eyes.
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