Supernatural Imagines/One Shots

Untitled (Dean angst)

"Imagine Dean breaking up with you for your safety but pretending it's because he doesn't love you anymore."

Word count: 2,685

Warnings: gore, injured!reader, break up.

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“CAN’T YOU DO SOMETHING MORE?!”

“I AM DOING EVERYTHING I CAN, DEAN!”

The voices echoed loudly in the dark warehouse, the usual calm demeanor that they held completely lost from them and instead replaced by a more desperate, agonizing pain. Though the aggressor that had launched at you already laid dead, he had caused enough damage to make you be destined to his same fate.

Blood poured freely from your abdomen, creating an ugly crimson stain in the middle of your shirt and soaking the fabric. The calloused hands of a hunter held your body as another person, an angel, tried to wake you up to help the healing, but that wasn’t working. Your eyes had rolled to the back of your head minutes ago, a murmur of love directed to the hunter being the last thing to pass through your lips.

Frantic blue eyes stared at the wound in your stomach, two rough fingers from the heavenly being pressing against your forehead in an attempt to make you conscious once again. Another person paced in front of his brother and the angel, hands tangled in his brown hair as he fought back tears. He couldn’t succumb to the same actions as his brother whose green eyes were already spilling tears, he had to be strong just in case…

“DAMN IT, CAS, JUST DO SOMETHING ALREADY!” Dean roared, his hands clutching at your immobile body, one hand on your cheek and the other holding you against him. He had dropped on his knees at the same time as you, pulling you to his lap so that you wouldn’t have to fall to the floor.

Castiel let out a breath he didn’t even know he had been holding and tore his eyes away from your paling face and to the gash that had not only cut your body, but was threatening to do the same with your life. Shaking hands were painted red as soon as they touched the wound, the bitter palette of your life smearing upon his fingers. He could feel the heat that was escaping your body through the tear in your skin as well as the sticky liquid that colored his fingers, and it made the own blood running in his veins freeze.

A faint, blue trace of Castiel’s grace was visible to the Sam and Dean as he tried to close the gash positioned in your middle, the misty energy reflecting the color of his very own, shining eyes. And then it was gone, taking the rip away with it. But it also took away the ignorance of a truth Dean had tried to ignore for so long.

“I’m so sorry, baby,” he whispered to your sleeping body, now regaining some of its color, as his bittersweet tears fell to your cheeks and his lips pressed against your forehead. And so he set the stage for a tragic play that he didn’t want to see unfold, and yet it was necessary for it to do so. After all, a similar fate like this could find a way into your life again, and he would rather keep you away from that.

———

You didn’t wake up until much later, your limbs aching and your head throbbing as you stirred awake, soft and familiar blankets wrapped around your body. They smelled like Dean. There was a slight feeling of numbness coming from your stomach, but you pushed it down and tried to go back to the sweet unconsciousness that you’d been taken from. However, that only lasted a few seconds, as your eyes snapped open just moments after that, confusion filling your mind.

The last thing you remembered was being attacked by a vampire and passing out in Dean’s arms with death in mind, not going to sleep in the comfiness of your shared bedroom with said Winchester.