Supernatural Imagines

Imagine #20

     Imagine: Showing Sam the difference between reality and imagination when he's seeing Lucifer in hallucinations

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

     I sped down the road, looking back at the GPS. Sam was heading into the middle of nowhere. What the hell was he doing? I growled at myself for letting him slip through my fingers again, even when I knew he's gone bonkers.

     I drove with one hand, my other arm keeping my elbow propped up against the window of my car, head leaning against my hand.

     "Damn it," I cursed under my breath.

     I finally reached Sam's location, where an old car was parked outside of an abandoned building. I rushed in through the first door that caught my eye. And there stood Sam, breathing heavily and holding his gun.

     "Leave me alone!" He screamed, shooting at air.

     "Sam?" I asked, making him turn his head swiftly. "Sammy, what the hell are you doing?"

     "Y/N?" He said, eyes filled with confusion.

     He looked next to him like someone was trying to get his attention, but no one was there. I walked toward him a little and he looked at me, pulling his gun up to me and snapping the hammer back. I stopped abruptly and pulled my hands up.

     "Hey, hey, hey!" I yelled, looking at him, eyes now wide. "Sam!"

     "I thought I was with you, Y/N," He said, fear in his face.

     "Ok," I said, calming down a bit. "Whoever you were with, it wasn't me. I am me."

     "No, I-I don't.." He stuttered, glancing over at invisible Lucifer again. "I don't know that. You understand me?"

     "Ok, yes," I nodded, taking another step forward.

     "I don't remember driving here," He realized, thinking out loud.

     It was silent for a second, but he turned the gun over and shot at the wall. I jumped.

     "Woah!" I yelled at him. "Sam, stop! There's nothing there!"

     He looked over at me again. I continued to soothe him.

     "Sammy," I took baby steps toward him with my hands out in front of me, and he looked like he was gonna hyperventilate. "Calm down, ok? I know it's hard...but I'm real, ok? I need you to see that. There is a difference between Hell and here, it's all different."

     "How can you know that for sure?" He asked.

     "Because this," I grabbed his stitched hand and stole his gun, and he seemed uncomfortable before he looked into my eyes. "This is real, ok? The cut, the stitches, I held your hand while Dean fixed you up! Man, I was there! This pain, and the pain down there, they're not the same!"

     He looked behind me like someone was there. He pulled his hand away, pressing his thumb into his cut. I got confused.

     "Sam, are you hearing me?" I questioned.

     He looked at me again. I sighed.

     "He's not real," I shook my head. "None of it is. But I am. We saved you from him. And it's just your head messing with you, that's it. There's nothing too scary about that, right?"

     He stopped putting pressure on his cut, looking at me once again. He took deep breaths and relaxed. I cupped his face with my hands.

     "Sam, you have to believe me," I said. "I got you into this mess, I'm gonna get you out, ok?"

     "Yeah," He nodded, still shook.

     "Ok," I nodded in agreement.

     I kissed him, feeling relieved that I hopefully got him back on track.