Imagines ⌲ SPN

| Here's Daddy |

Uncle Moose:

He's loose. HIDE.

Y/N's eyes went wide. "Oh, God.." She whispered to herself. She looked up with doe like eyes when she heard loud footsteps hammering through the hallway outside her bedroom door. Definitely not Uncle Sam. Y/N was leaping out of bed in an instant, grabbing her perfume bottle that was filled with holy water. She stood beside the door with her back against the wall, and she was sure the pounding of her heart was loud enough for anybody to hear.

She held her breath when the door creaked open, closing her eyes as she willed her hands to stop shaking. She gripped the perfume bottle tightly, praying to Castiel - no pun intended - that she wouldn't drop the glass bottle.

"Y/N?" Came her father's voice from the doorway.

She could see him now, the door being the only thing blocking her from his field of vision.

"Sweetheart? Are you in here?" She cringed at the nickname. It was just so cold, so unlike her father's usual warm tone towards her. His back was towards her as he crept further into the room. All she had to do was slip around the door, and she was home free. She could take off, find her Uncle, and everything would be okay.

She slowly began to creep out from her place behind the door, her movements slow as she carefully crept around it.

Come on. Almost there. Don't look back.

Her foot brushed the wood of the door. She was almost out. She could do this. She could make it.

Keep going. Don't look back. Do not look back.

And then she's out the door. She takes off running down the hall like a mental patient, her bare feet pounding on the floor. She can hear her uncle calling her name and she runs faster, the bottle of holy water still clutched in her hands.

She knows every inch of this bunker, having walked the entire place on restless nights when she couldn't sleep. She knows every twist, every turn, every dead end.

So you can imagine how angry she is at herself when she finds herself turning into one. With her father.

She skids to a stop, nearly sliding onto her back when her eyes meet his.

"There she is," Dean smiled a sinister smile, making Y/N's blood go cold. "It wasn't hard to find you, you know. I could hear your heartbeat from a mile away."

"Well, I don't run much." Y/N said, still gripping the perfume bottle tightly in her hands.

"Clever," Dean said, now circling the teenager as if she was his prey. "But we both know the real reason."

In that moment Y/N found herself pinned against the wall by her father, the bottle falling to the floor and shattering loudly. The girl squeaked as his arm pressed into her windpipe, cutting off the oxygen from her lungs.

"You're terrified," He hissed into her hair, his eyes a shade of pitch black.

"I'm not afraid of you.." Y/N wheezed out, closing her eyes as if to will the pain away. "Dad..this is me..come on, you can fight this..."

"I could. But I don't want to," Dean smirked, pressing his arm harder against her skin.

"You got loose, didn't you?" Y/N wheezed again. "You may still be a demon, but you're g-getting your humanity back. You're demon, but not demon enough.." She whispered.

His arm pressed harder. "Shut up."

The need for air was becoming unbearable, and she could feel herself slowly going unconscious. "Please, Dad. I'm your baby girl, remember?" She whispered, her eyelids getting heavier.