Confetti It's A PARADE! Of Supernatural Imagines.

Locked Inside

It was scary how well you were able to hide your feelings. Sometimes you wished that someone would notice, and ask, but you were so good at hiding your emotions that no one noticed how much you were hurting on the inside.

Life at the bunker wasn't bad. It was certainly better than anything you had ever had before. Growing up, you never knew when your parents would return home, they were sometimes gone for weeks, and you never knew if they were still alive, or if the monster of the week had managed to kill them off.

It had always been easier when they were gone, you and your older sister living by yourselves, skipping school, doing whatever you liked. However, life was hell when your parents returned, booze and insults were normal occurrences in your household. You grew up thinking you were never good enough, never pretty or smart enough, and you would never amount to anything. Once you heard it enough, you start believing that it's true.

When you were sixteen, your parents and sister had left to hunt a Rugaru, leaving you behind, complaining you would only slow them down. The last words your parents had ever spoken to you, were etched in your brain. "Stay here you useless pig, you'd only end up getting us killed anyways." It turned out they ended up getting killed anyways.

Five years later, you found yourself dealing with the Winchesters, the best thing to ever happen to you. Once you learned to trust each other as hunters, the friendship came easily. Soon you moved into the bunker, and the two men showed you that you didn't have to be blood to be family.

Things had been going smoothly, until one night. Vampires had been kidnapping small children, using them as bait to gather food. The three of you stopped the vampires, but not before there were casualties. Two of the children had died, and it had been your responsibility to save them.  Inwardly you were cussing your self, knowing that you had been too slow, too stupid to save them.

Arriving back at the bunker, you slammed your door, earning a glare from Dean. Starting to stride away from the garage to your room, you were grabbed roughly by the arm. The hand turned you, and soon you were face to face with Dean. Sam knew what was coming, and quickly left, not wanting to be caught in the middle of one of your arguments. Usually your arguments were one sided, Dean yelling at you while you stood there, an almost blank look on your face. It was how you had survived your parents yelling many times, and it came in handy when Dean would become upset at something you did, which wasn't often.

"Damn it Y/N, what the hell happened back there? You aren't usually so clumsy, or off your game." Dean yelled, slamming the door of the Impala. Inwardly you winced, but you controlled yourself enough that it didn't show.

"I'm sorry, I don't..." You started to reply, before Dea cut you off.

"Sorry doesn't cut it princess. Sorry doesn't bring those two kids back, does it?" Dean countered, before storming off, leaving you to your own thoughts, which were your worst enemy.

You grabbed your duffle bag, and made your way down the dimly lit hallway, relieved when you finally made it to your room. Your room is your sanctuary, a place where you can let down your guard, and not have to act like everything is okay. Your room might be old fashioned, but you have slowly been making it yours with pictures of you and your sister, postcards of the places you have traveled hanging on the wall. Books were placed on top of the dresser, along with your small jewelry box. Your only other possessions were the clothes in the dresser, as a hunter you were used to living without a lot of personal items.

Throwing your bag on your bed, you stripped out of your bloodied clothes, making your way to your bathroom, almost groaning at the thought of a warm shower.

While the hot water washed over you, thoughts ran through your mind. You knew it was your fault those children died, it seems like you could never do anything right no matter how hard you tried. Dean was right, sorry wouldn't bring those children back.