What's a Netflix? {Supernatural Imagines}

You've Changed Part Three

  You felt a hand wrap around your ankle, your stomach instantly dropping. You were yanked off the bed, hitting your head on the bedpost as you hit the floor. Holding your head, you looked up to see a smirking Dean. You felt blood drip from where you hit your head, running through your fingers and down your forearm. 

 "Told you I was going to kill you." He said, before grabbing you by your hair and pulling you up. You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut to try to block out the pain. He slammed you against the wall, keeping you from falling down by wrapping a hand around your throat. You gasped for air, clawing at his arm, but it was useless. 

  "Dean!" Sam yelled, running in and pulling Dean off you. You collapsed against the wall, taking in deep breaths. Dean pushed Sam away, taking the demon blade from him, and if it weren't for you standing in between him and his little brother Sam probably would have been dead in a couple seconds. 

 "Dean. Don't do this. This isn't you, this is the mark. You don't want to kill Sam, you sold your soul for him. Look at me, it's me. Y/n. I love you. Please." You begged, reaching out to him. "Y/n, he's gonna kill you." Sam hissed, but you ignored him. You knew Dean was going to kill you, but you knew as long as Sam survived he'd be able to save Dean, and that was all that mattered. 

 "Dean. I love you. Please." You said, and Dean stared at you for a second. You swore you saw something flicker in his eyes, something that gave you hope and made a smile ghost your lips. 

 "Nope." He said, before plunging the blade into your stomach. You thought you heard Sam yell, but you weren't sure. Everything sounded far away, like it was through a tunnel. You dropped to your knees as pain coursed through you, so excruciating that you couldn't even scream. You looked down, the demon blade sticking out of your stomach. For some reason, you wanted to laugh. You were going to die at the hand of the thing used to kill the things you hunted. You took a deep, shuddering breath before the pain became too much and everything went black. 

    You slowly woke up, the arms around you tightening their grip around you. You smiled, resting your head against Dean's chest. Then it all came back to you. Dean was a demon, and he stabbed you. You jumped out of his arms, climbing off the bed and backing away as far as you could. Dean sat up, the sudden movement waking him up. 

 "Y/n, baby. What's wrong?" He asked, looking at you like Dean did. But this wasn't your Dean, he was a monster. You felt tears rise in your eyes, but you blinked them away. 

  "Is this some kind of joke? Pretend to be my Dean then killing me when I trust you?" You asked, voice hoarse. Dean got off the bed, raising his hands in a way to tell you to stay calm as he walked towards you. 

 "Y/n, Sam cured me. I'm me. I promise. Cas came and helped Sam out, and he healed you. It's me." He said, almost smiling. You shook your head, refusing to believe it. Dean sighed, not coming any closer so he didn't freak you out anymore. 

 "Sam!" He yelled, and a few seconds later Sam ran into the room, gun at the ready. When he saw there was no danger, his hand dropped. "What is it?" He asked. 

 "Y/n doesn't believe that I'm cured." Dean said, and you turned to look at Sam. A part of you hoped that Sam would tell you that he was indeed cured, but another part of you knew not to get your hopes up. 

 "He is cured. Right after you got stabbed, Cas showed up. He helped me get Dean back into the dungeon and he healed you. He must not have done that good of a job because you slept for three days." Sam said, and your eyes widened. You knew you should care about the sleeping for three days part, but all you cared about was the fact that Dean was cured. You looked at him, at the hope in his eyes that you'd finally believe it. 

  "It's really you?" You breathed out. Dean nodded, and before you knew what you were doing you were running into his arms, sobbing into his neck. He held you close, kissing your head. 

 "I'm so sorry for the things I did to you." He said, and you shook your head, looking up at him. "It wasn't you, don't feel sorry." You said, and he sighed. He would never forgive himself for it, you knew that. You would try to make him feel better later, right now you were too happy. Your Dean was back.