Sad Supernatural Imagines

#118 Sam - Screw Up

Y/N p.o.v:

"Back off, Dean!" Sam yelled at his brother. You stared at the floor. It was your fault. You had one simple job to do. Not to wake up the vamps. But, you being the fuck up you are, you did.
"Y/N screwed up! It's-" Dean was cut off by your boyfriend.
"I said back off!" Sam yelled again. Dean scoffed and then stomped away. You didn't let it show, but you were in pain. When you woke up the vampires, something hooked into your side. There was a huge gash. You were still just a little new to hunting. Only been hunting for around 2 years. You weren't quite sure how to stitch up your wounds just yet. Sam kept forgetting to teach you.
"I'm sorry about him, Y/N. He's just angry because someone could have gotten hurt. Are you okay?" He asked. You nodded, but didn't look up.
"You know he's right, Sammy. I screwed up. That's all I do. I shouldn't have gotten in the way. I shouldn't have begged you and Dean to let me join the hunt. I'm a burden to you both." You said softly. Sam sighed.
"That isn't true, Y/N." He said. You shook your head. You looked up at him with silent tears falling down your face.
"Yes, Sam, it is. I was just the dumb girl who welcomed herself here after needing protection. I'm sorry. I'm gonna go to bed. Sleep it off. I love you, Sam." You said and then turned to go pack up the rest of your things. You ignored Sams calls and walked into the library. You saw Dean glaring at you.
"Why do you always fuck shit up, Y/N? Even on the most simple hunts! How many more mistakes, Y/N? How many before you kill someone?! Or worse!" He yelled at you. You flinched, memories flowing through your mind.
"Maybe you should leave before you get someone hurt." He growled. You looked down.
"I know you're mad at me, Dean. I'm sorry I screwed up. I was just a burden. Remember that I'll always care and love you. Goodbye, Dean." You said and then walked away. You didn't see how Dean's face dropped and pain filled his chest. You didn't see the regret. "No, Y/N-" He tried to call after you, apologizing, but you weren't having it. You've always had a hard life. You bounced around foster homes until you were 18 years old. No one wanted you. Your parents gave you up for adoption because they wanted a boy, but instead got a girl. You were abused in a lot of homes. You were bullied harshly too. Your life was anything but easy. One day, you got kidnapped by demons. You were tortured and basically a slave to them. Sam and Dean rescued you and let you stay with them till you got better. Then, Sam asked you if you would like to start hunting with them. You trained for a long time. You were pretty good for a newbie. Of course you made mistakes, but you were always forgiven. This one seemed to be less promising. You finally had all of your things. You slung the duffle bag over your shoulder and then walked back out to where you left Sam. You grabbed your other bag and then hugged Sam. He hugged back, pressing down on your gash. You didn't show any sign of pain because you didn't want to let go. You didn't want him to get suspicious.
"Where are you going?" He asked into your hair. You squeeze him and them let go.
"I'm no longer welcomed here, Sam. I get it. It's okay. I'll be fine. Bye, Sammy." You said and then left, not giving Sam a chance to reply. You drove to a motel in town. Once you payed for a room, you went inside to check out the damage. You walked into the bathroom and slowly peeled up your shirt. It was deep. Blood was pouring out slowly. You took off your shirt slowly, trying to not hurt yourself any further. It stung like a bitch.
"Ow." You said to yourself. You felt the blood drip down your side and soak into your jeans. You didn't know what to do. You never thought this was how you would go out. Especially this early. Slow and painful. You felt the tears falling down your face.

Sam's p.o.v:

"You said what to her?!" I yelled. Dean looked away.
"I didn't think she'd actually leave, Sammy." He responded. My anger boiled. I pulled my arm back and slammed my fist into my brothers face. My brother stumbled back and pressed his hand to his face.
"How could you, Dean?! She's the first person I've let myself love for real after Jess! Now you've screwed that up to! She could be hurt, Dean!" I said. Dean rubbed his face.
"I'm sorry." He whispered. I sighed, frustrated. That's when I noticed the blood on the floor.
"Fuck... Fuck, fuck, fuck, FUCK!" I yelled. Dean looked to where I did and his face drained of color.
"Oh, God... No." Dean said to himself. I looked around for the keys.
"Dean, where the fuck are the keys? Where are they?!" I yelled. Dean pulled them out of his pocket and motioned for us to go.
"I swear to God, Dean, if she's badly hurt, I'm never going to forgive you." I growled. Dean didn't respond. We got to the motel where I knew she would be and got out before Dean even completely stopped. I looked for Y/Ns favorite room number, her lucky number as she says. Dean was right beside me.
"Ah-ha!" I said as I ran to the door. I kicked it in, too impatient to wait for her to get the door if I knocked. I saw her holding her side, laying on one of the beds in the motel. I could here Dean gasp.
"Y/N..." I whispered. I ran to her. She was breathing shallowly, but at least she was alive. She opened her eyes and smiled weakly.
"My boys.." She said softly. She was holding a towel to her side. She wasn't wearing a shirt, but that wasn't the point. I looked back at my brother.
"Dean, get a kit. Now!" I demanded when he hesitated. He left, running out the door. I looked back at Y/N.
"Y/N, you'll be okay. I'm here." I assured her. She laughed and then coughed, spitting out blood.
"You f-forgot to teach me how to s-stitch again." She stuttered. Even on the brink of death, she still tries to crack jokes. I gently pushed her hand away from the towel and lifted it up. It was really bad. I swallowed hard and looked at Y/N.
"Why didn't you say anything?" I whispered. I put the towel back. She hissed in pain and closed her eyes.
"Dean was busy yelling at me. I deserved it. I-I-I probably deserve this too-ah!" She cried as I pressed harder.
"That's not true. Dean was upset because if you died, he would blame and never forgive himself." I said softly. Dean ran in and tossed me the kit. I opened it and got the thread and needle ready. Dean handed me a bottle of whiskey too.
"This is going to hurt like a bitch, Y/N." I said. I removed the towel again and hesitation before pouring some whiskey on the gash. Y/N cried out. I watched as tears slid down her face. I winced as I started to sew her up. She had less time to get comfortable with wounds like this. She usually just had a few cuts that didn't need stitches. She yanked the bottle of whiskey from me and chugged about half of it.
"Hurry up, Sam." She groaned. Just as I finished up the last stitch, she passed out either from the pain or from how late it was. I put a bandage on it and picked her up bridal style. I glared at my brother.
"You're lucky she isn't dead." I growled and walked out of the door to the car. She'd be okay

A/N:

Well, this absolutely sucks. I might rewrite it if I have the energy.