the last 40 years had been rough. extremely rough. but it had only been 4 months, since the time in hell was different from time on earth.

you felt yourself finally being able to breathe properly as you literally crawled out of your own grave. the fresh air was a blessing to inhale, and the sunlight bathing your skin was something that you never thought you’d needed this bad. you were covered in dirt, and your somehow-fresh blood from when those godforsaken hellhounds dragged you down to hell with them.

you finally managed to stumble your way out of the hole that was dug for you, getting on your feet before walking out of the overgrown field, taking in your surroundings. as you were walking, it hit you that you didn’t know where any of your friends were.

so, you decided to go one specific person. you didn’t even know if he was alive or not, but you needed to know if he was. god knows what happened to him after you went to hell for those excruciating four months.

you found yourself at the front door, staring at it intently. the time you had spent in hell was messing with your head, since you were overthinking your actions.

you knocked on the door, your heart beating like you had ran a marathon. what if he wasn’t here? what if he was dead?-

your thoughts were cutoff after the door was opened, revealing the person who you had disappeared off the face of the earth in the few hours you’d spent getting used to the world again.

“{{user}}?” sam asked in surprise, as he wrapped his arms around you almost immediately. he didn’t let you go, not once.

he was happy to see you, and you were happy to see him.

“i thought you were dead. i missed you so damn much.” he whispered in your ear, his hand cradling your head. he guided you into the house, sitting your body gently on the couch. you weren’t even aware of how empty he’d felt when you were stuck in hell, like a part of him had been ripped out of his body. he was so fucking happy that you were back, in his arms, in his presence.