Supernatural Imagines

Forgetting Dean

You meet a very familiar stranger and try to figure out why you know him.

You bolt up in your bed, coughing and wheezing and feeling like you are about to hurl. This happens every time you have dreams about him. You don't know much about who he is, all except for his name. Dean.

You get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom. The warm water you splash on your face washes away the cold sweat and the pain of the night before. You grab a glass of water and take some more of your medication.

The doctors don't know what is happening to you. They say that you are just having strange dreams and that the pills will help you sleep better, but the dreams just feel so... familiar.

Sometimes you and Dean will be together, watching TV or eating out at a run-down diner, but even more strangely, there are times where the two of you were killing monsters. Vampires, ghosts, demons, werewolves. Ganking monsters with him is your specialty. That's a word Dean uses often in your dreams. Gank.

You've considered putting yourself in a mental hospital because of this. It worries you that you feel so attached to someone that you've made up. Then again, people say that you can't have dreams about someone that you've never actually seen before. So why is it that this strange man appeared in your head?

The scariest part was that whenever you are hurt in your dreams it is always in the spots that you have actual scars on your body. You wake up screaming, but relax and say, "No, I wasn't cut with a blade, I accidentally touched some sharp glass." You remember the glass, but you can't remember the pain. It's almost like the memory is picture from when you were a baby. You know that it happened, but you don't feel any connection to it.

You grab a small mug out of your kitchen cabinet and begin to make hot chocolate. The scent of warm cocoa fills your lungs with delight, so you add a few mini marshmallows and sit down on your couch. You click the TV on, but are too distracted by the racing thoughts in your mind to pay attention to the flashing pictures on the screen.

You are the type of person that will come up with crazy weird explanations as to why strange things happen. Maybe you knew this guy in a past life? Maybe you lost your memory in a bad car accident? Still, you know that the only reasonable explanation is that you're bad shit crazy.

You place your mug in the sink and trudge back to bed. In the morning you woke up groggy, but will yourself to get out of bed. You still have to go to work.

The building where you work is a small auto repair shop right in the middle of town. You don't know why, but you've been good with cars since before you could remember. Living in a small town has its advantages, because everyone comes to you when they have car troubles.

Ironically, you don't own a car. The bus is your main source of transportation and sometimes you like to walk.

You're greeted at the door to the shop by Mike, one of the old veterans at the business. He's taught you plenty of tricks that you had never even heard of and you've bonded well with him over the past few years.

"Hey, I've got a new recruit for ya." He smiles, holding the door open for you as you walk through.

You groan loudly. Nobody really likes handling the newbies and you always get stuck with the job. Every newbie slips up a few times when they start, whether it be scratching a car's paint of spilling oil on the ground. It's a headache for you, and most end up quitting soon after anyways.

"Oh, c'mon Y/N," Mike starts. "You know we always make you do it because everybody likes you! You're a people person."

"Yeah, it's my feminine charm," You sneer, mocking something he'd told you many times. Mike laughs and pats you on the shoulder as you make your way back to the locker room. You dress in your oil stained overalls and put your Y/H/C hair in a cap.