Winchestered [Supernatural Imagines]

Forbidden Dreams •3 -Sam

revised and 'improved' version [feb. 2024]

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Waking, you found yourself lying in a strange white room, on a bed that wasn't comfortable but not uncomfortable either. You moved and glimpsed the white hospital gown on your body. Of course. Ugh, I hate hospitals.

You turned onto your left side and gasped when you caught a sleeping Dean Winchester on the bed opposite you. Typical Dean, not caring if it was forbidden to rest there as a non-patient.

Attempting to sit up, a sharp pain seared through your head, and you failed to rise. Your whimpering woke Dean.
"Y/n?! You're awake! Thank goodness," he breathed out, seemingly relieved.

"How long was I gone?" you asked your best friend while you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.
"A day and a half or so," he replied as he was busy pouring some water into a cup and handing it to you.
"And you've been here all that time?"

"Mhm," he stated. "I drove like crazy. The doctors said you'd need stitches and you could even fall into a coma from the concussion. I called Bobby, Cas, Sam, Garth, Charlie, Jody. I was so scared you might end up in a coma because of my stupid inattention; I had to stay with you." He was so stressed out, rambling on and on, so you inched closer, reaching out to take his hand in yours.

After you had heard Sam's name mentioned you had felt a slight hope arising he might be here as well.

"Dean. Thank you. You don't know how much I love you."
Blushing, he threw you a caring, reassuring smile. "Ditto, sweetheart." He kissed your forehead and hugged you, sighing. Relief washed over the both of you.

The hug lasted longer than you exspected, and as you broke apart, you were the first to speak up, "Dean..."
Gently, he pushed you away a bit more in order to look you in the eyes. "I-is...Is he here?"
A shake of the head.
"Was he?"
Dean repeated the action, and gave you a soft, encouraging half-smile.

Gazing down, you gave a nod, swallowing the hurt burning in your throat like bile.

"Uhm, could you perhaps help me get dressed? I would like to walk around a bit," you mumbled, flashing a fake smile at the older Winchester.
"Sure." Dean opened the hospital closet for you, retrieving a plaid skirt and a tank top with the 'AC/DC'  logo adorning it for you to wear. He smirked at this, and made to help you into your black Converse.

Grabbing your backpack, you glimpsed a picture of you, Dean and Sam, making silly faces, falling onto the floor. On it, Sam was pulling on your hair to annoy you. He knew you hated that.
You felt the tears welling up right away.

Dean took notice of your rigid stance, and that you were staring at something. He recognized the photo. All of a sudden a pair of strong arms snaked around your waist, embracing you from behind. You smiled softly and a deep sigh left your body. He didn't say a word - all he did was hold you, hold you until he slowly reached for the picture in your grasp, placing it upside-down on the bed.

Afterwards, his lips tenderly brushed your cheek, and you felt that he wanted to let go of you, but you didn't let him. Turning, you stared deep into his green eyes, daring him to look at you, too.
Comfort emanated from his touch and into your skin. His understanding and care - you just wanted this sensation of belonging to never end.
You both stared into each other's eyes, and when you thought to have detected a certain discomfort in Dean, you simply closed the gap between you and him.

Your lips danced along those of your real love's brother. Your best friend's.
At first, there was hesitance, but eventually he kissed you back, cupping your face softly. It was merely the connection of lips - no tongue, and not much moving. It was warmth and comfort you needed, and he knew. And you felt as though he needed it just as much.