Supernatural Imagines

Mistakes

Imagine: You think that something that happened on a hunt is your fault so afterwards you go get drunk so Sam picks you up.

Death. You hate Death. Especially when it's your fault that it happens.

You and the Winchesters had gone on a hunt together that had to do with a malevolent spirit that was killing people. The case was finished and taken care of but there were casualties. You had had your back turned from the people that you were supposed to be protecting to look at what had made a certain sound, but instead it got them killed. The spirit took advantage of you having your back turned and went after its initial targets, but not after making sure you were unable to try to save them. It shoved and locked you in the basement while Sam and Dean were stuck cleaning up your mess.

They destroyed the spirit but it wasn't in time to save them. So, depressed and pissed at yourself, you are currently sitting at a bar. You signal the bartender a two and tell him that you want shots.

-Flashback-

The car ride was silent.. until Sam decides to open his mouth. "Y/N, you know it wasn't your fault. It locked you in the basement away from them. I'm guilty of having times that I think that kind of problem is my fault too, but it happens and it's not your fault."

You smile slightly at the fact that he admitted one of his guilts, "But I was supposed to be watching and protecting them. I failed. It's as simple as that." Your face turns back to a frown when you realize why you were sad in the first place.

"Awe, c'mon Y/N, you know better than that," Dean says next, "you've been on plenty of hunts with us and you can't say that you haven't witnessed it happen to either me or Sammy."

You sigh, "I know you have! I'm not denying it, I just- It felt different! I don't know why or how, I just-. You know what, nevermind." You end the conversation at that. Through the rearview mirror you can make out Dean's face. It looks like he's empathizing but who really knows with that guy.

It only take you about five minutes to get back to the ratty motel room that you are all staying in. Once you get out of the Impala, you immediately head towards the bar a couple buildings down and across the street. "Where are you going?" Sam and Dean call in unison.

"Out." You call back without even turning your head.

-Present-

You down the shots as if they were just another soda or drink. The only difference is that it burns your throat on the way down, but it doesn't have a huge effect.

You ask the bartender for more. Your feelings are far for being drowned in alcohol.

After the 10th one, you start to feel the effects and switch to beer. You down two in record timing, for you at least, and see that there are people over playing pool. You reach into your pocket to see how much you actually brought and decide to go over and play a couple games.

You set a couple hundred dollars on the side of the pool table and grab a stick to play with. "Wow," a guy playing says, "we've got a challenge. You think you can take it?" You laugh.

"I grew up playing this crap," you slur angrily. You hate when guys doubt your ability to do something. "I could beat you idiots in a serve!" The men snicker but continue to set the game up for you all to play.

They beat you pretty bad. "God dammit!" You exclaim. "I want another game." you put more money on the table and get another beer. The front door of the bar opens but you don't turn to see who it is because you're in the middle of an intense game of pool.

There's a hand on your shoulder that turns you around. The whole world spins for a couple seconds before you realize who it is. Sam. "Not now, Sam, I have to win this game!" You exclaim, slurring to no end.

"Y/N? Are you drunk? How much money have you lost playing pool?" He replied. There is slight anger in his voice.

"We've made a profit of $500 so far, so beat it boy!" One of the men you were playing with replies to Sam angrily.

"Ok, no Y/N, it's time to go. I think you've had enough for the night, lets go."
Sam wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you around to face the front door.

"Sam, no, I have to finish the game. I'm gonna get the money back!" You say desperately while trying to wiggle out of his grip. His arms just tighten around you, enough to where you decide to just give up.
"Why did you feel the urge to come get drunk? You know, I've done it plenty of times and it works for the moment but when you wake up in the morning, it will all come flooding back to you. It's only a temporary solution to a permanent problem." You look up to his face that is looking down at you.

The pain is visible on his face seeing you this way. You sigh, "I know. I just want it to go away. I feel so guilty and it won't go away! I need it to go away!" You don't feel like walking anymore so you sit down on the street, tired, and just done.

You hear Sam sigh and then his arms pick you up bridal style. You rest your head against his chest and close your eyes. You feel comfortable with him.
You can tell when your back at the hotel because Sam uses his foot to knock on a door. You look slightly and the door opens to reveal Dean pointing his gun at you both. He realizes that it's you guys and opens the door the rest of the way. His facial expression changes from alerted to saddened.

Sam lays you down on his bed then goes to grab something. You curl up on the bed then a headache strikes. Sam comes right in time with some Tylenol and a cup of water, "Here, take this. It will help you sleep." You take the pills and the cup of water, swallowing them easily.

Sam lays down next to you, putting his arm around you, then pulls you closer to your chest. You fall asleep so quick it was as if it never happened.

-the next morning-

Your eyes open to the lighting of the cruddy motel room. Sam's arm is still secured around you.

All of the sudden there's a feeling in your stomach. It's not a good feeling. You quickly unlatch Sam's from around you and rush to the bathroom. You lean over the toilet just in time for your stomach to lurch and release all of the contents that were left in your stomach falling into the water.

"Y/N? How's that hangover treating ya?" Dean laughs but comes into the bathroom to hold you hair back so that it doesn't mix with anything.
The feeling that is making your stomach flip subsides. For now. You sit next to the toilet and Dean releases your hair, "Oh shut up Dean. It's not like you haven't been hungover a thousand times before."
Dean smirks, "yeah well at least I haven't blown as much money in one night on pool as you have." You reach up and punch Dean right in the stomach.
"Dean, stop being a jerk to Y/N! Go get some pie or something." Sam says pulling Dean out of the bathroom and shoving him toward the door. He continues to sit by you on the floor and holds out a hair-tie, "I though this might be helpful." he smiles.
You smile back and take it from him, "Thank's Sammy." you tie your thick Y/H/C hair back just in case the feeling comes again.
"So, I suppose you don't want to talk about last night? Do you even remember anything, you were pretty hammered." he kind of laughs then looks into your eyes with sympathy.
"Yeah, I do remember parts of it. And I think it'd be nice to talk, but can we go to somewhere less disgusting?" You both laugh and Sam helps you up and fixes the bed while you brush your teeth.
You and Sam have a really good talk and by the time it's finished you feel a lot better. The part that was the best is that you got to express your feeling with Sam and he understood everything that you explained. Not five minutes after your conversation, Dean shows up in the motel room with a whole pie. Lets just say he wasn't very willing to share.
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A/N
I hope you like it! I'm happy with the amount of reads this has gotten in such a short time. Don't forget to vote and comment! Also request imagines! Just tell me what you want to happen in the imagine and with who and I'll get it up ASAP! Thank you guys so much! Update: These get better over time, I promise, so keep reading!
~Lauryn