Supernatural Preferences

Finds you self harming

Sam: You'd just gotten back to the motel. Sam didn't understand why you'd been so quiet and distant all day. "I'm going to the bathroom," you said quietly. As you went in, you finally let the tears fall. Two years since that demon had killed your mother. You grabbed your razor, snapping it and catching one of the blades. You slid it across your skin, hissing. The blood oozed out, and it felt good.

"(Y/N)?" Sam asked, knocking quietly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, fine," you responded, but he could tell you'd been crying. "Don't-" you started to say as the door opened.

"(Y/N)!" he said, dropping his his knees beside you, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and pressing it to your wrist. "What the hell? What's wrong?"

"My mom," you managed to say. "Two years ago."

He seemed to understand, pulling you close to his chest. "It's okay," he whispered. "Let's go to bed."

Dean: You'd just ganked the ghost. But not before it killed that little girl, and it was your fault. A false piece of information. If you'd been a half hour quicker, she'd be alive.

Knowing this, you snuck out the motel room after Dean fell asleep and sat on the step, pulling out your lighter. The flame danced in the cool air. You held it close to your arm, groaning as it burnt you. But you deserved it. It was your fault she was dead.

The door opened. "(Y/N)!" Dean barked, yanking the lighter away from you. "Stop that. What's wrong? Why the hell'd you just burn yourself?"

Tears were pouring down your face. "I-it's my fault, Dean. If I was faster-" you started.

Dean sat down beside you, pulling you close to his side. "It's not your fault. You didn't know the info wasn't right. It's not like you did it on purpose. Right?" He looked at you closely.

"Of course not."

"So it was an accident."

You nodded. "Yeah."

"So you don't need to feel bad. Come on. It's late." He stood, pulling you up and leading you to bed again.

Castiel: You pressed the scissors against your skin, tears pouring down your face. You felt like such a horrible person. Castiel didn't deserve someone as terrible as you.

"(Y/N)?" Cas's voice called through the house. You dropped the scissors, knowing he'd flash up any second. And he did. He looked down in confusion at your bleeding wrist.

He kneeled next to you, putting his hand over it and healing it. "How did you hurt yourself?" he asked. You knew he was reading your mind. "You did this on purpose? (Y/N), you're beautiful. You don't need to worry about not being good enough." He hugged you close, running his hands gently along your back. "You're perfect."

Charlie: You came home in tears. "(Hey, (Y/N)!" Charlie called from the living room. You didn't say anything, just hung up your coat and dropped your bag, walking into the living room. "What's wrong?" She paused her video game, pulling you down next to her on the couch.

You put your head in her lap, letting her run her fingers through your hair for a while before saying, "My dad died."

She laid down next to you, pulling you close and kissing your forehead gently. "I'm so sorry," she whispered. "Do you want to go to bed? I'll make tea."

"Can I have the Wookie cup?"

She smiled a little, nodding. "Head on up."

You went upstairs, but instead of falling into bed, you went into the bathroom. Snapping your razor, you took one of the blades and dragged it across your wrist. You did it over and over again, liking the feeling of toning down the pain inside.

"(Y/N)!" Charlie said, setting down the cups quickly and kneeling beside you. "Here." She put a big wad of toilet paper on your bleeding wrist. After bandaging you, she pulled you into bed. "Wanna talk about it?" she asked gently, handing you the mug.