Supernatural Imagines and Preferences

Dean Winchester- 4

Quick A/N-

Damn, these requests are all so sad ;-;

You, Dean, and Sam were chilling out at a motel room, lounging around and waiting for Cas to come back with information he was sent to get. A comfortable silence filled the suite, and all had your own things to do. Sam read a book, Dean cleaned his guns, and you fiddled around with your phone, trying to see if you could hack the email of Jeffrey Daniels, the leader of a clan of satanists trying to bring Lucifer back.

"I don't want [Y/N] to hunt anymore." Dean said, out of the blue. You looked up from your phone, and Sam put his book down.

"What?" You asked, confused. You had been hunting ever since you could walk. Leaving the life seemed impossible, and you honestly didn't want to leave. It was a lifestyle, a lifestyle you were damn-well happy with.

As an infant, your family was murdered by a demon. John Winchester killed the demon and adopted you as his own child. You'd loved hunting, and it was fairly obvious that you were John's favorite.

"I don't want you to hunt. When Sam and I go out and gank monsters, you're gonna stay and read or something. You're too childish to hunt." Dean said sharply. You rolled your eyes.

"Yeah, like you could do anything to stop me!" You said loudly. Your voice got higher when you were upset, not helping your case.

"I don't want you getting hurt, is all." Dean said, holding his hands in defense.

You were pissed. "What are you saying? Do you think I'm a mediocre hunter? Am I just not good enough to hunt with the great Dean Winchester?"

Dean sighed. "Quit being so overdramatic-"

"Overdramatic?! Are you kidding me right now? Lately, you've been up my ass about everything! I can't drive your stupid car, I can't use your crappy guns, I can't help you do anything, and now you're telling me I can't hunt? It's my choice, Dean. And I'm not gonna stop just because you think it's dangerous."

"I didn't mean to upset you-" He said, standing up. You backed away from him.

"SHUT UP!" You screamed at him. You were tired of being treated like nothing, like some poor, defenseless girl. You were one of the best hunters in the business, nearly as good as Sam and Dean. You growled angrily and grabbed the keys to your car, a beat up pick up truck.

"Where do you think you're going?" Dean said loudly, trying to block the door so you couldn't leave.

"Out." You said as you pushed him to the side and exited the motel. You walked to your old truck and started it up. Nothing like a drive to help clear your mind.

You got in the car and drove, not caring where you ended up. You drove for about an hour on a mountain road, enjoying the views. Then, your phone rang. You checked the Caller ID and scoffed.

Incoming Call From- Dean Winchester

You rolled your eyes and accepted the call, putting the phone by your ear and answering exasperatedly.

"What do you want, Dean?" You said quietly, trying to focus on the road.

Dean's muffled voice answered you. "[Y/N], are you okay?! You've been gone for an hour, and-"

"This is exactly why I needed to get out! All you do is worry about me, like I'm incapable of doing anything on my own!" You said loudly, only one hand on the wheel. You knew it was dangerous, but you were furious at Dean.

There was silence on the other end for a moment, and you thought he had hung up. His voice spoke softly, though, and you scowled at his words.

"You are incapable. I don't think you can handle being a hunter anymore. I mean, honestly, you make mistake after mistake, and you never learn!"

Every single word Dean said broke your heart. You could faintly hear Sam on the other end of the line saying "Dude, what the hell?" A soft scuffling noise was heard, then a door slamming. Dean spoke again. "Just come back home before you hurt yourself."

You couldn't focus on the road now. Dean's words cut you deeply, each syllable wrenching a knife in your heart. You looked up to Dean, and for him to say these things...

"Dean, I'm not gonna quit, okay? It's my choice, and if I'm gonna die, I wanna go down swinging. I don't want to live some boring old research life, like I'm some sort of kid you have to take care of." You spat out, barely looking at the road. To be frank- you were pissed off. Dean always treated you like a child, even though you were just as good of a hunter as he.

"Please, [Y/N], come back to the motel. We can talk this out, I swear. You're being melodramatic, and you need to see how stupid you're being."

"I'm not being stupid or melodramatic!" You shrieked into the phone, huffing and sighing. You knew Dean had a point though- you were making a mountain out of a molehill, after all. You just refused to believe it.

Dean moaned and sighed loudly. "Goddamn, [Y/N], I hate you-"

Suddenly, two bright lights flashed in front of you. You had no time to swerve or honk your horn- all you could do was scream.

"[Y/N]?!" Dean yelled into the phone. He heard a scream, then the horrific sound of metal ripping and tearing. A loud crash sounded, telling Dean that large amounts of glass had been pulverized. "[Y/N]!"

Dean held onto the phone for dear life, like if he let go, the whole world would come crashing down. "[Y/N]! Talk to me! What happened?!"

There was an agonizing silence on your end of the line and Dean screamed into the phone. "[Y/N]! Hold on! Please..."

Sam rushed over to Dean and took the phone from him. Dean tried to catch his breath, tears flowing down his face. "Sammy, I told her I hated her... I said it to her... Then... Then..." Dean shook his head and looked away, trying to hide his face from Sam. He then fished through his pocket and grabbed his keys.

"Where do you think you're going?" Sam asked, grabbing Dean's wrist.

Dean yanked his wrist from Sam's grip and walked to the door. "I'm gonna go to the hospital. [Y/N] needs me."

Dean got out of the room and practically sprinted to his Impala, quickly turning it on and racing out of the lot. He drove carelessly to the hospital, parked near the front, and ran in. He looked around in confusion, trying to see where you could have gone. Dean turned and overheard a conversation between two doctors.

"Room 175, yes. Poor girl. Nurses say she was in an accident." One doctor said to another.

"Drunk driver, right?" The second asked.

"Yes, but the girl was also on the phone. If she hadn't, she might've been able to swerve out of the way." The first doctor replied.

"Must have been an important call. She didn't seem like the type to gossip on the phone, the way she was acting at the scene. Something about 'Dean'? Family, maybe?"

The first doctor sighed. "Hopefully. Check her cell, see if we can pull up the number and give him a call."

Dean's stomach sank. He went up to the nurses station and requested to know where room 175 was. The nurse grudgingly gave him directions, and he ran to the room. When he arrived, he pressed his face up against the glass and saw a body on the operating table- your body. There was blood everywhere, and your face was torn up almost past recognition. The doctors and nurses pulled up paperwork, and Dean could faintly hear their conversation through the thick door. As one doctor talked, a nurse copied the information on an important looking document.

"[Y/F/N]. Drunk driver accident, victim. Date and time of death- May 3rd, 1:34 A.M."

Dean's heart sank as he slid down the door to the floor. His heart shattered, and he put his head in his hands as he sobbed quietly. [Y/N], the love of his life, was dead. And the last thing he said to you- "I hate you."