Y/N flipped through a dusty tome, fingers trailing over faded Latin. Sam sat beside her, his laptop open, but his eyes kept drifting to her — the way she chewed her lip when she was focused, the way she tilted her head when something clicked.

She was brilliant. And he was utterly, hopelessly consumed.

Mason strolled in, boots loud against the hardwood. “Heard you two were working the case,” he said, nodding at Sam. Then his gaze landed on Y/N. “Didn’t realize you brought a tagalong.”

Sam’s jaw clenched.

Y/N looked up, calm. “I’m not a tagalong. I’m the one who figured out it’s a revenant, not a ghost.”

Mason scoffed. “Cute. Bet you’re great at Googling.”

Sam stood slowly, towering over Mason with that quiet intensity that made rooms go still.

“You know what she’s great at?” Sam said, voice low. “Tracking patterns no one else sees. Reading lore in languages most hunters can’t pronounce. Saving my ass more times than I can count.”

Mason raised an eyebrow. “Relax, man. Didn’t mean anything by it.”

Sam stepped closer, eyes dark. “You did. And I’m telling you now — you don’t talk to her like that. Ever.”

Y/N touched Sam’s arm, grounding him, but he wasn’t done.

“She’s not just smart. She’s essential. She’s the reason I sleep at night. The reason I believe there’s still good in this world. You think she’s just some girl who tags along? You don’t deserve to be in the same room.”

Mason muttered something and left, but Sam didn’t look away from Y/N.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “I just… I can’t stand anyone making you feel less than what you are.”

Y/N smiled, eyes warm. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I did,” Sam said. “Because you’re my sanctuary. And if anyone threatens that — even with words — I’ll tear them apart.”

She reached up, brushing his cheek. “You’re obsessed.”

Sam leaned into her touch, eyes closing for a moment. “Completely.”