Supernatural Preferences and Imagines

02 | Dean Winchester [Requested]

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WHAT WERE YOU SUPPOSED TO SAY—the pressure got to you—the hunting life started to catch up with you—your wish for a normal life became too strong for you to hide? You didn't know how to answer his questions. All you knew was that you needed to leave. You wanted to get out of the daily routine that had become so numb to you; wake up in the same dirty motel room, feeling the same old guilt of having destroyed another innocent families life, killing the same evil monsters but never being able to get rid of your own. This was the definition of insanity, so you deiced to go. Slipping out in the middle of the night, being careful not to wake anyone up in the process. You hated goodbyes. Plus, you weren't that good at them anyway. Sadly, you weren't so good at leaving either.

Slipping form Dean's strong arms, you rolled off the bed gently, landing lightly on your feet. You paused for a moment looking back at his still figure. He looked peaceful, almost saint like. It was then you made the decision to stay a bit longer, watching him as he slept soundly. You observed, as his chest rose and fell perfectly. You were grateful that he wasn't having a nightmare like usual; it made leaving a little easier. After what seemed like another five minutes, you took a mental picture of him, saving it in your head for later.

Carefully, you made your way over to the door, slipping on your shoes. You had all your things packed in your car already; all you had to do was start it and drive—drive like hell and never ever turn back.

Then again, that was more easily said than done.

You wanted to go. You need to go. But with Dean, it seemed impossible. Suddenly, you felt your suppressed tears make their way to the surface of your eyes. It is then that you let out a quiet sob, resting your hand over your mouth so you wouldn't wake him. You loved him. So, how could you leave? It was a question you still didn't have the answer to and no amount of crying or thinking would give you the answer.

Looking at the door again, you closed your eyes. Taking a shaky breath, you try to swallow the painful lump in your throat. You hated this feeling—needing so bad to just burst into tears but knowing you couldn't. You just couldn't, no until you made it far away from here. Shaking your head, you open the door and entered the cool night air. You shut the door gently, not having the strength to look back as you did so. On shaky legs, you made it all the way to your car, hoping in and starting the engine. You pause for a moment, looking back at the door to your room. A part of you wished Dean would wake up, find you and persuade you to stay, while the other part couldn't slam on the gas pedal fast enough. Your heart was torn.

Telling yourself that you were making the right choice, you put your hands on the steering wheel. It was strange really. You had driven thousands of miles before, yet you still couldn't get yourself to move your foot. "Come on," you cry, banging your fists on the wheel. Suddenly, all your frustration comes out at once and you sob out loudly. So loud that you were sure Dean could hear you.