Sam had been really reserved since the whole Lucifer thing had gone down. He only really spent his time with you, knowing that Dean was still pissed off. Hell, Sam felt guilty every second of every day, but you made him feel better. Better than he deserved. Always distracting him from himself with little questions, or over-explaining a movie, or those little kisses you always gave him…God, he had missed those kisses. He hated himself for choosing to spend his time with Ruby instead of being with you and he was damn sure he'd never take advantage of you again.

"Turn it off…please?"

Sam whispers into your hair, a guilty frown on his face as you watch the news. You flip the channel to an old sitcom, sighing and cuddling back into him. His warm arms cradle you gently, handling you like you were made of glass ever since he'd thrown you into that damn wall. Damn who he was with Ruby. Your arm was still broken too and- Frantic knocking comes from the door, making Sam lift his head up. You sit up too, starting to move.

"No, sweetie. Stay in bed."

He murmurs, kissing you a few times before tugging on his jeans and walking shirtless to the door. He swings the door open and…oh for fucks sake. Sam sighs, running a hand over his face. Jesus, he should've put on a shirt.

"Hey, Becky."

He winces, watching her hyperventilate over him, her hands immediately reaching to pet his chest.

"H..hey Sam."

She blushes, licking her lips. You find it oddly funny, a tiny smile crossing your face as she gives you a dirty look and then focuses back on her Sam.

"I have a message from Chuck. He says, "The Michael sword is on Earth; the angels lost it."

One of Becky's hands reaches up to tangle in his soft hair and she inhales rather sharply as if trying to smell it.