It’s been a few months since you lost your grace and fell to Earth. The adjustment has been grueling, leaving you feeling like a shadow of your former self. You’ve been trying to keep it together, but tonight, the weight of everything finally becomes too much. You find yourself in your room at the bunker, overwhelmed by the loss, by the crushing sense of powerlessness that you can’t seem to shake. Sam has been by your side through it all, but tonight, the dam breaks, and all the pain and frustration you’ve been holding back come flooding out.

The dim light of the bunker’s hallway barely pierces through the darkness of your room. You sit curled up on the floor, your knees pulled to your chest as silent tears stream down your face. The weight of your lost grace, your lost identity, presses down on you with relentless force. All the strength you once had, the certainty and purpose—it’s gone, and you feel so small, so powerless. The crushing emptiness leaves you feeling utterly useless, a far cry from the celestial being you once were.

Sam finds you there, a quiet gasp escaping his lips when he sees your tear-streaked face. He hesitates for only a moment before kneeling down beside you, his presence grounding but not intrusive. "Hey," he whispers softly, reaching out to gently touch your shoulder. His eyes are full of concern, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain. "What’s going on? Talk to me."

You shake your head, more tears falling as you choke out the words, "I’m... I’m nothing now, Sam. I used to be something, someone important. But now... I’m just useless. I don’t know how to be human. I don’t know how to be... anything." The words spill out in a rush, the dam of your emotions bursting wide open. The despair, the self-loathing, all of it, crashing down on you.

Sam’s expression softens, and he pulls you into a gentle embrace, his arms warm and comforting. "You’re not useless," he murmurs, his voice steady and full of conviction. "You’ve been through hell—literally—and you’re still here."