supernatural imagines, one shots and preferences

TFW x Reader

I'm going through kind of a tough time so kinda put me in a mood to write this

watch the video... it's the best fanmade thing I have ever seen

Birthday: Tomorrow

Imagine... Telling TFW you have cancer.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You paced the kitchen of the bunker, waiting for Dean.

"You aren't pregnant right?" Sam asked awkwardly. He tapped his finger tips on the table.

You shook your head. "Worse."

Sam looked at you, trying to evaluate the situation. He looked back down at the table and waited silently for Dean and Cas.

They walked in together, smiling and laughing. Dean smiled right at you.

"What's wrong? Your not pregnant right?"

"I wish." You muttered. "Sit your asses down. You'll want to."

"What-" Cas started. You cut him off.

"Just sit down." You snapped. He sat down and Dean followed.

"So what? Why the big family meeting, princess?" Dean asked.

You were in no mood. "Not like you have anything better to do."

"How do you know?" Dean defended.

"Fine. I'll just tell Sam-"

"Tell us now." Cas commanded.

You ran your hand through your hair and tears burned the back of your eyes. "I-uh, I have cancer. Stage two Adenocarcinomas."

Cas

Sam took a moment. "Is it terminal?"

"The doctors don't think so." You replied. You looked at Dean. He was staring blankly at the wall. "Dean? You okay?"

"Yeah, just processing." His voice was quiet.

The bunker was silent most of the night. They could only  hear your cries. Crying because it would never be the same. Sobbing because you would never be treated the same. You'd never be let out on a hunt. The illness would consume you- Eat you alive like an underfed dog.

Your head was shoved in your pillow when someone knocked on the door.

"Hey," It was Dean's voice. You herd more than just his footsteps. You felt the indents in your bed of three heavy men. You felt a hand rub your back.

"Your going to be okay." Dean whispered. You shot up from you pillow and glared at him.

"I'm not going to be okay!" You yelled. "This god fucking disease is going to kill me. It's the non-cureable kind. I have..." Your voice dropped to a whisper. "The doctors said I have a 40% survival risk."

"Screw the doctors!" Dean yelled.

Before he could say more, Sam cut in. "Lets think about this. Maybe there's some spell, or-or Cas can help. You all looked to Cas.

Cas shrugged and placed a sturdy hand on your forehead. "The doctors were wrong. It's stage 3 with exactly 38.7906758493% of survival."

"I'm gonna sleep it off." You decided.

"You need to eat more, and sleep more. You may need a night guard. During this type of cancer, dreams occur more frequently and being a hunter, you've seen to much."

"And with dreams, come nightmares." Dean concluded.

You stood up with them. You hugged Cas quickly.

"I'm sorry." He whispered. You broke away and went to Sam. You looked up and wrapped your arms around his muscular torso.

"We'll find a cure." He muttered. You nodded. You knew the truth.

Then Dean. He hugged tighter than the rest. And hugged longer.

"He's right." Dean said, gesturing to his brother.

"I know." You lied.