Supernatural Imagines

Imagine #83

Imagine: You had recently lost your twin brother in a hunt gone bad, and instead of mourning, you avoid it by hiding in hunting. You come home from another case, more messed up than you should be. Dean notices, talking to you about it.

***

I sat in the library in the bunker, exhausted from the long week I had in Ohio. I held an ice pack to my aching face, looking down at the book in front of me. Quiet footsteps approached, and I glanced over in the dark. Dean came in, wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt under his robe. He looked like he was half-awake. I swallowed.

"Hey," Dean greeted, coming closer. "You're back. How was Ohio?"

I looked up at him, pulling the ice pack off my face. His eyes widened as he stopped at the end of the table, observing my wounds.

"Woah," he said, stunned. "What happened to 'milk run'?"

"There were more werewolves than I thought," I chuckled lightly, looking away and licking my split lip. "They got the drop on me. It's fine."

"You look like crap, Y/N," Dean told me.

"Thanks," I said sarcastically. "It means a lot."

"No, that's..." he sighed, going behind me and sitting next to me. "Y/N, this has been happening for weeks. What, you think I wouldn't notice?"

     "Notice what?" I asked, looking at him. "Yeah, I've been distracted. Sue me."

     "But that's not all," Dean said, "is it?"

     I didn't respond, just looked down. Dean shut the book in front of me, pulling it away. I closed my eyes.

     "...I know losing your brother is hard," Dean said, and I sighed. "Believe me, I know. But that doesn't mean you can go out and be stupid just because. Look, talking helps."

     I lifted my head, not looking at him. Just thinking about Y/B/N brought tears to my eyes. I gulped back sobs.

     "You know, our whole lives, we always argued over the little things," I started. "Every day, there was something to fight about. People always told us it was part of being twins, but it was more than that. It's like we couldn't stand to be equal, like one of us always had to be right. But we argued out of love. That constant need to be right just showed we were still there for each other."

     I looked at Dean, and a tear slipped out of my eye.

     "Losing Y/B/N is like losing a part of me," I told him, voice breaking. "And I don't...I can't handle it."

     I shuddered, looking away. Dean grabbed my shoulder, squeezing it. I wiped my face, trying to hold back to tears. But it just wouldn't work.