Supernatural Imagines

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Hi! Can you pretty please make a part two to the imagine where Sam hates you but you're in love with him?

Hi! I’ve never written a Part Two to an imagine before so I hope I did an okay job.

Link to Part One:
http://imagines-supernatural.tumblr.com/post/83163112089/i-really-loved-the-imagine-you-made-and-here-i-am

~~~~~

You and Cas had been sitting side by side on your bed in silence for about twenty minutes when you heard Sam and Dean’s voices coming from outside the motel room. Your fingers tightened around Castiel’s trenchcoat and you shrank further into him.

“Y/N, I think that perhaps you should just talk to Sam,” Cas murmured. “Perhaps there is an explanation for all this.” You sat bolt upright, staring at him in disbelief.

“An explanation? What is there to explain? I’ve never done anything to him!” you exclaimed.

“I know,” he agreed with you. “But I still feel that you and Sam should talk. You can’t keep putting yourself through this.” You bit your lip, frowning up at him.

“I don’t like this one bit,” you told him. “But…maybe you’re right. I feel bad that you and Dean always have to be around to fix me up.”

Cas was about to reply when Sam and Dean entered the room. Sam’s laughter cut off abruptly when he saw you sitting on the bed. You looked down at your hands, suddenly losing the confidence to speak with him. However, before you had a chance to inform Cas of your change of heart, he spoke up. “Dean, would you mind accompanying me for a moment?”

Dean frowned, glancing between you and Sam. “Cas, are you sure that’s the best idea?”

“Trust me,” Cas said, grabbing Dean by the arm. The sound of beating wings filled the room and they were gone, off to who knew where.

“Well this is just great,” Sam muttered under his breath, dumping the cartons of take out on the table. Every muscle in his body seemed to be stiff with tension, and you could tell by the set of his shoulders that he was seriously pissed off to be alone with you.

You glanced around at the peeling wallpaper of the motel room, hoping desperately for some kind of distraction to come along to prevent you from having this conversation with Sam. Unfortunately, none were forthcoming, so you took a deep breath and stood up. “Sam?” you asked timidly, moving towards where he had seated himself at the table.

“What do you want?” he answered harshly. It was obvious in his voice that talking to you was the last thing on his agenda.

Suddenly, you felt angry. And not the kind of angry that made teens lock themselves up in their bedrooms with rock music blasting, but the kind of angry that made you want to grab Sam by the shirt and pin him against the wall, demanding that he listen to you. “I want to talk to you,” you stated firmly, this anger of yours manifesting itself in confidence.

Slowly, Sam swivelled around to face you. “What about?” he questioned in an annoyed tone.

You swallowed, taking another step towards him. Folding your arms across your body, you began to rant. “Why do you hate me, Sam? I’ve only ever been kind to you. I’m a pretty damn good hunter, even if I say so myself, so you can’t say I hold you back. And Dean and Cas like and respect me, so why can’t you? I understand that a lot of hunters don’t like working with others, but you’ve done so in the past, so you can’t use that as an excuse.” You stopped, staring at him expectantly. “Well? What have you got to say for yourself?”

“I don’t hate you,” he responded simply. He didn’t address any of the other things you had said, which infuriated you.

You let out a humourless laugh. “Wow, Sam. I thought you were supposed to be the smart one. Maybe I should get you a dictionary for your next birthday. That way you can look up the definition of hate.” Sam stood up to face you.

“You don’t understand,” he said. “I honestly don’t hate you.”

“Then why are you always such a dick to me?” you whispered, on the brink of tears.

Sam blew out a long breath. “It’s just…we’ve had practically all of our friends die, Y/N. Simply because they were our friends. And I don’t want that to happen to anyone else. And if it doesn’t happen to you, then what does that mean about the others? Does it mean that they were somehow supposed to die?” he questioned rhetorically. “You hunting with us…I don’t know. It just somehow feels like a punch to the gut, reminding me of everyone else.”

You let your arms drop to your sides, unsure how to handle this revelation. “Sam,” you began slowly. “I’m not any of those people. I haven’t even really met any of them. And I know things have been really tough for you in the past, but you can’t hold that against me. I’m my own person and I have feelings. And quite frankly, I really don’t deserve to be treated like this.” You gazed up at him, waiting for a response. After a minute, it came. But not in the form of words - he instead offered his hand. “Sam?” you questioned.

“It’s a truce,” he explained. “A peace offering, whatever you want to call it. I’ve been a dick, and I’m sorry. So do you think we could start over? Try to be friends?”

You looked into his eyes, at the genuine regret and hopefulness you found there. Although being friends wasn’t exactly what you had in mind, you weren’t going to pass up the opportunity to be on good terms with Sam.

You reached out and shook his hand. “Friends,” you agreed.

~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Please don’t repost without giving credit.