Confetti It's A PARADE! Of Supernatural Imagines.

Night Time Demons

Sam Winchester X Reader

Night time was always the worst. During the day you could paste on a smile, pretending as if everything was okay, and sometimes you even believed it yourself. But at night, you were left with only your thoughts as a companion, and they were ruthless.

It wasn't as bad when you were on hunts with Sam and Dean Winchester. The three of you would share a shabby hotel room, bunking down after you killed the Monster of the Week. Normally, you would share with Sam, even though he was a big man, he was still easier to sleep with than his older brother Dean, who seemed to thrash about in bed. One time Dean accidentally punched you, and that's when you made the decision to stick with Sam.

Being in the same bed as Sam, you were able to forget all the things that crowded into your brain each night. Cuddling near his warm body, sleep would come easily, and you would wake up, fresh and rested.

But then, you had to return to the bunker, where you had your own room, your own bed.It was those nights that were hard, when you had a hard time keeping your inner Demons away. Turning to books, music or alcohol to keep the thoughts away. No matte what you did, when the lights went off and you closed your eyes, they would come back, pounding on your brain, making it impossible to sleep. Thoughts of your future, or the lack of a future made your heart race. Knowing how screwed up you were, and how nobody truly cared for you brought tears to your eyes, reminding you just how much of a freak you really were.

It was then the tears came, pouring down your cheeks, soaking into the white cotton of your pillow. Clutching to it tightly, you let them flow, trying to hide from the pain clawing it's way through your chest. Some nights it was easier to banish them, and you would fall into a restless sleep. Other nights, no matter how hard you tried, they would haunt you, taunting you with what a failure you were, and how you were worthless, and sleep wouldn't come until the early hours of the morning. A short time later sounds of the bunker would wake you, traveling through your pounding head, making you trudge on through another day.

Tonight was one of those nights, where the negative voice in your head wouldn't give you relief, taunting you worse than ever. Reminding you that you had no future, that people didn't care about you at all, that your life was worthless.

"No." You mumbled into your pillow, feeling your tears start to build, and the ache in your chest increase. Sitting up in bed, you slammed your hand on the mattress. "No I can't do this again. I can't deal with this again." You pleaded with yourself, climbing off the bed, and taking your own personal bottle of whiskey out of it's hiding place. Taking a couple of healthy sips, you slammed it down on your nightstand before laying back in bed, hoping the alcohol would numb your system. Even with the alcohol, your brain was working on overload, and as you tossed and turned,  it worked hard to bring up everything you had done wrong.

Finally, you gave up, your resistance fading. Standing up, you grabbed your pillow, and opened the door, tiptoeing down the hallway towards Sam's room. His door was shut, and for a moment you wanted to turn around, but the thought of going back to your room filled you with dread. Forcing yourself forward, you opened his door, peeking through the crack, your eyes growing accustomed to the  darkness.

He was sprawled on the bed sleeping on his back, and you almost turned around again, not wanting to bug him. But you trudged on forward, clutching your pillow even tighter to your body like a little child would.

"Sam." You whispered, surprised when the tall hunter didn't even move. Trying again, this time he woke up, grumbling about for a moment, before looking forward, at you.

"Y/N? What's a matter?" He asked, his voice deep and hoarse with sleep.

It was now or never. "I couldn't sleep." Was all you could force out, the words hard to say.

He patted the bed next to him, and you sat. "I've noticed you've been tired the past couple of days. Why is that? You're never that way on hunts."

"Sam, if I tell you something, please don't judge me." You begged, your eyes cast down, as you realized how stupid, and insecure you were being. 

"Y/N, I would never judge you." He told you, tucking your hand into his big, callused one, pulling you closer to him and his bed.

"It's just that, when we are back here, I'm by myself at night, and my brain goes into over drive, telling me how stupid I am, how useless." You whispered, cringing as you waited for his answer.

You felt his hand on your chin, tilting your head up so you could gaze at him through the curtain of hair covering your face. "First of all, none of those things are true. You are an amazing person, someone I look up to, and think the world of. Please believe that." 

Blushing, you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear, but Sam continued. "And second, I understand where you are coming from. It's hard being alone. That's when the inner Demons come out, and believe me, I have them too. But you're brave." He told you, making your eyes widen in surprise.

"I'm not brave!" You objected. "I'm in here because I'm too much of a coward to deal with this by myself!"

He shook his head, his bed head falling into place. "That's why I called you brave. Instead of dealing with this on your own, you were brave enough to come to me for help."

"Thanks Sam, that means a lot." You mumbled, a little shy from all the praise.

"Maybe we can help each other battle our Demons." Sam suggested, as he leaned back in bed, getting comfortable, and you just watched him. But then he held his arm up, and smiled at you. "What are you waiting for? " He asked, and you scrambled up onto the bed, your pillow forgotten, as you cuddled against Sam, your negative thoughts being pushed away for another night.