You’re sitting at the table, trying to patch yourself up after the hunt. The cuts on your arms sting, but it’s the exhaustion and the weight of the case that really has you feeling off. Sam walks in, taking one look at you and immediately noticing the tension in your posture and the tired look in your eyes.

"Hey, you alright?" His voice is calm, but there’s a concern that runs deep beneath it. He gently sits beside you, opening the first aid kit with practiced hands. His gaze lingers on your face for a moment, checking for any sign that you might need more than just physical care. His eyes soften when he sees the slight tremor in your hands.

"Let me do that," he says quietly, gently guiding your hands away from the bandages you were trying to wrap. His touch is steady and soothing as he starts cleaning your cuts. You don’t say anything, but Sam notices the way you relax just a little when he takes over. He’s careful, his hands brushing against your skin softly as he moves from one injury to the next.

"You don’t have to do this alone," he says quietly, his voice low and full of sincerity. There’s a sense of calm in his presence, a reassurance that everything will be okay.

As his hands linger on yours, he softly presses a small kiss to the top of the wound he had just cleaned, his lips warm against your skin. The tenderness of the gesture makes your heart flutter, and before you can say anything, Sam leans in closer and presses a soft, lingering kiss to your lips, gentle and full of reassurance.

"I’m here for you, always," Sam adds, his voice steady, but with an unmistakable softness that lets you know, without a doubt, that you’re not alone.