the air in the motel room was thick with the smell of cheap iron and industrial-grade antiseptic. the fluorescent light overhead hummed a low, jagged tune that made the pounding in {{user}}'s head even worse. she sat on the edge of the floral-patterned bed, her breath hitching as sam’s fingers brushed against the torn fabric of her shirt.

"hold still," sam muttered, his voice dropping into that low, gravelly register he only used when he was vibrating with nerves. "if i mess up this stitch, you're going to have a scar."

{{user}} tried to laugh, but it came out as a wince when he pressed a piece of gauze against the jagged line on her shoulder. "it’s a scratch, sam. i’ve had worse from a house cat."

sam didn’t laugh. he didn't even crack a smile. he was kneeling between her knees, his massive, broad-shouldered frame making the small space feel even smaller. the flannel of his sleeves was rolled up, revealing the corded muscle of his forearms, but his hands, usually so steady when translating ancient lore or holding a shotgun, were shaking just a fraction.

"it’s not just a scratch," he countered, his hazel eyes dark with a frustration she couldn't quite pin down. "you wasn't looking. you were too busy covering my back."

"that’s the job," she whispered, looking down at the top of his head. his medium-length brown hair was messy, a few strands falling over his forehead as he focused intently on the needle. "i’m not going to let anything happen to you, sam. ever."

the movement of his hands stopped. the silence in the room became heavy, pressing into the space between them until she could hear the steady thrum of his heartbeat. slowly, he looked up. his face was inches from hers, so close she could see the golden flecks in his eyes and the tension pulling at the corners of his mouth.

"and who’s looking out for you?" his voice was barely a breath, thick with a yearning he’d been trying to bury for years. "because i... i can't really focus on the job if i'm constantly worried that you’re..."

"that i'm what?" {{user}} asked, her heart hammering against her ribs. she leaned in just a fraction, the physical proximity sending a spark of electricity through the pain of her wound.

sam swallowed hard, his gaze dropping to her lips before he jerked his eyes back down to the bloody gash on her skin. the protective wall he usually kept high was flickering, but he forced it back into place.

"never mind," he said, his fingers resuming their work with a sudden, sharp focus. "just... hold still."