TW Supernatural Imagines

I Promise, You'll be Okay

Imagine Sam Winchester comforting you when you break down about having suicidal thoughts.

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Every morning it never changed, everything was always the same. I woke up in my room in the bunker, with guilt, sadness, and nausea settled in my stomach.

I hated it. The constant worry of hiding my secret from the ones that I loved more than anything. It had been seven months that I've felt like this.

The boys were still asleep in their beds I assumed, considering I didn't hear anything.

I didn't want a razor. I didn't want to hurt myself. I just wanted to kill myself. I wanted to stop this pain that I felt every day. My mind fogged up a little and I thought about doing it right now, but I couldn't. Kevin was coming over today and it's been at least three months since I've seen him.

I sigh heavily and go back to my room, closing my door behind me. I put out my journal from underneath my pillow and flip open to a new, clean page. I pull the dark purple pen from the spine and begin writing how I feel.

Dear Journal,
     It's been seven months. Seven months that I've felt depressed and suicidal.  Seven months that my two brothers haven't even known. Seven months that I have been living in this utter black hell inside of my mind.

I don't think I will ever actually tell them. They have enough on their plate already, they don't need to worry about me. I just want to cuddle up into Sam's bed and sleep there for the rest of my life. Just let all of my problems slowly drift away until they turned into nothing.

I just want to take a razor and drag it down my arm, let it slice through veins. I want to take a rope and slide it around my neck, kick the chair from under me. I want to swallow that handful of pills.

"(y/n)? You awake?" Dean's rough morning voice asks as he knocks lightly on the door. I snap my journal shut and shove the book and the pen underneath my pillow in a hurry, afraid the older Winchester would walk through the door. "Yeah, I'm up."

× × × × ×

I join Kevin at one of the tables in the bunkers library as he shows me one of his AP books. We laugh, talk enjoy our time together. It's been too long since I've seen Kevin.

An hour or so passes before Sam walks down the staircase, his face full of pain and worry. He walks up to me, refusing eye contact. "(y/n), can I talk to you for a minute?"

My heart beats against my chest and I swallow the lump in my throat. I don't say anything, I just pull my sleeves down and follow behind the younger Winchester. When we're outside my bedroom, he gestures inside. "Wanna tell me about your journal?"

× × × × ×

Sam sits on my bed, my pillow moved, and my journal open to this morning's entry. I lean against the door frame and keep my arms crossed against my chest. "What the hell (nickname)?" Sam asks worriedly, tears clouding his vision. He shakes his head, wiping a tear away.

"You wouldn't understand, Sam. This is just my own way of letting it all out. I write." I say, quite pathetically. "I don't understand? Me?" he asks sarcastically, letting out a small laugh. "Yeah, you might write it out, but you're also suicidal!"

"Did you have a plan?" he asks, staring right in my eyes. I shake my head. "No. I only thought about doing it."

"Why?" he asks softly. My eyes fill with tears and I try to respond. "I never felt good enough on hunts."

Sam nods and stands up, walking over to me. I stare up at him, tears sliding down my face. He wraps me in a hug and I inhale his comforting scent. "You and I, we're gonna make a bucket list. We are going to complete that list." he says softly. "You are so important, (y/n). Dean, Cas, Kevin, me... We all love you no matter what happens. No matter what you do, we love you."

I nod against his forehead, pulling him closer against me as I continue to cry. "Promise me (y/n)."

"I promise... I promise."

"Promise what?"

"I'll go to you when I feel sad or depressed and feel like ending my life. I promise I will. I love you Sammy."

"Love you more (nickname)."

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