After a long day investigating a case involving a Shtriga, you and Sam are on the drive back to the bunker. The weight of it sits heavy between you, especially as it stirs painful memories. Years ago, you lost your sibling to a Shtriga, and the memories linger, raw and unresolved.

The silence in the car is thick. Sam notices your gaze fixed out the window, sees the way you’re retreating into yourself. After a few glances your way, he gently says, “Hey… I know this case is tough. You don’t have to go through it alone.”

You don’t respond right away, but he sees your hands clenching your lap, a tear slipping down your cheek before you quickly wipe it away. Sam pulls over to the side of the road, his expression soft with concern. He reaches out, placing his hand over yours. “Hey, look at me.” His voice is quieter, and as you meet his gaze, he sees the pain and years of grief reflected back.

You offer a shaky smile. “I’m sorry, Sam,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. The case brought it all back in a way you hadn’t expected.

Sam lifts your hand to his chest, holding it gently. “Don’t apologize,” he says, steady and reassuring. “You’ve been through a lot, and it’s okay to feel it. We’ll get through this together. Always.” His eyes are full of understanding, a constant support.

Another tear slips down, and Sam brushes it away with his thumb, his touch light and comforting. “I’m here for you, {{user}}” he says, his voice gentle yet firm, like a promise. “You can lean on me whenever you need to.”

The silence fills with comfort as you sit there, Sam’s hand steady on yours. You give a grateful squeeze, reassured you’re not alone in this fight.