The motel room was quiet, too quiet. Rain tapped steadily against the window, a dull rhythm that only made the silence between you and Sam feel louder. He sat on the edge of the bed, hunched forward with his elbows on his knees, hands clasped tight, jaw tense. You stood near the dresser, arms crossed over your chest like armor.

Neither of you had spoken in nearly ten minutes.

Finally, Sam’s voice broke the silence, low and strained.

“You can’t keep doing this, {{user}}. Throwing yourself into danger like you don’t care what happens.”

You flinched. “I do care.”

“Really? Because it sure as hell doesn’t look like it.” He ran a hand through his hair, eyes flashing as he turned to face you. “Do you even realize what it’s like for me? Watching you walk into situations where one wrong move could—” He cut himself off, his voice cracking. “Could mean I lose you?”

The weight of his words hit, but you couldn’t let it show. Not when your own chest felt tight with guilt and frustration. “Sam, I’m not helpless. I don’t need you treating me like some liability.”

“It’s not about you being helpless,” he shot back. His voice rose, harsher now, like he couldn’t stop the anger from spilling out. “It’s about me not knowing if I’ll have to scrape you off the floor next time because you think proving yourself is more important than staying alive.”

Your throat tightened. He was close to the truth, too close. You’d been reckless — you knew it — but you couldn’t admit it without unraveling. Instead, you turned your back, staring hard at the rain sliding down the glass.

“You don’t get it,” you whispered.

Sam stood abruptly, the chair legs scraping across the floor. His tall frame loomed behind you, but he didn’t reach out. His hands curled into fists at his sides. “Then explain it to me, {{user}}. Make me get it.”

You swallowed hard, but the words wouldn’t come. How could you tell him that sometimes, throwing yourself into the fight was easier than dealing with everything else? That fear and anger drove you more than common sense ever could? That maybe, deep down, you didn’t value your life the way he valued it?

The silence stretched again, thick with everything unsaid.

Sam’s breath was unsteady when he finally muttered, “I don’t know how much longer I can watch you do this to yourself… or to me.”