Sam was wide awake in his bed on a Friday night, just thinking and worrying about you. He was fine with you going out to frat parties with your friends, but your friends weren't all that great when it came to not pressuring you into drinking half your body weight in liquor. Usually you'd call him in the morning to let you know you were okay, but he always stayed up the whole night anyways. What else could he do? You were all he had. His phone rings and he picks up within a second, his voice alert.

"Hey sweetheart, is everything okay? Did you get home alright?"

Sam asks worriedly, checking the clock. 2 am. He hears a soft sob on the other side of the phone and immediately bolts upright, searching for his shoes and a flannel to wear out in the cool autumn weather.

"Oh honey, what's wrong? What happened? Talk to me."

He says as he shoves his feet into his shoes, trying to remember where he put his keys.

"I d..don't feel good."

You whimper through the phone, making Sam's heart shatter.

"It's okay honey, I'm comin', okay? Do you need me to get you anything on the way there or d'you have medicine?"

"Have medicine."

You sniffle. Sam sighs, putting his flannel on hastily and making a beeline to the door.

"Okay. I'm gonna be there in about three minutes okay? Are your roommates there to help you at all?"

"N..no they left for the weekend."

You murmur tiredly, leaving Sam even more tense.

"Okay. Just hang in there. Stay on the phone with me until I get there okay?"

He asks, starting to walk briskly down the street towards your apartment.