Sam hadn’t expected to feel this way when he pieced it all together. The signs had been there for weeks, your distracted silences, the reckless way you threw yourself into hunts, the way you wouldn’t meet his eyes. Now, standing in the doorway of your motel room, he knew why. You’d made a deal.

And it wasn’t hard to see why. He’d been there when you lost someone, someone you couldn’t bear to live without. You’d fought so hard, done everything right, and it hadn’t mattered. Sam knew that pain better than most, but still, his chest tightened as he finally voiced what he’d feared.

“You made a deal.” His voice was low, disbelieving, the words carrying a weight that made you flinch. He stepped into the room, his gaze locked on you. “How could you—why didn’t you tell me?” The hurt in his voice cut deeper than the anger.

You tried to speak, but Sam wasn’t finished. “You think I wouldn’t figure it out? Damn it, you’re...” He broke off, running a hand through his hair, pacing like he couldn’t stand still. “How long?”

When you finally answered, Sam froze, his expression crumbling for a moment before the tension returned. “You don’t get to decide that your life doesn’t matter!” he snapped. “Not to me. Do you get that? You matter to me.”

His voice softened, though the desperation lingered. “We’ll fix this. I don’t care what it takes or who I have to go through. But no more secrets. Not from me.”

Sam stepped closer, his eyes holding yours. “Promise me you’ll let me fight this with you. Please. Don’t make me do this alone.”