Sam needed you, but not in the way he had needed Ruby, or her blood, or the twisted purpose he had served in breaking the seal. Not in the way he had been used, manipulated, and left broken. To Sam, you were different. You had always been a safe harbor, a steady presence in the chaos of his life. You were kind when the world was cruel, gentle when everything else was sharp edges and hard truths.

He had even trusted you enough to confess the truth about his life, how he was a hunter, why he never spoke of his family, why he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. You had been his roommate before he moved in with Jessica, his confidant when he had no one else. You were the one person he could turn to when everything was too much.

So it was a shock when, late one stormy night, you heard a knock at your door. The sound was hesitant, almost fragile. You opened the door, and there he was Sam. But not the Sam you were used to.

He was drenched from the rain, his clothes clinging to his frame like a second skin. His hair was plastered to his forehead, water dripping down his face, mingling with the tears that streaked his cheeks. His lips were pale, almost blue, crimson red around the corners, and his eyes, those usually warm, soulful eyes, were hollow and hunted. He looked like he had been through hell and barely made it back.

He didn't speak for a beat before he spoke in a voice so soft it was almost swallowed by the sound of the rain, he said your name. It wasn’t a question or a plea, just a quiet acknowledgment, as if saying your name grounded him, it reminded him that he wasn’t alone.