The cold night air bit at Sam’s skin as he leaned against the Impala, his sharp eyes focused on the diner across the street. He watched as you walked in, your movements confident and steady, the same calm demeanor you always had, even when things were uncertain.

You’d been his friend for years, but watching you step into the hunting life, even just for this moment, felt different. He couldn’t deny there was something impressive about how you held your own.

From the car, Sam saw you make your way over to the target, slipping into conversation effortlessly. You had a way of drawing people in, making them trust you, something he’d never quite mastered. His lips twitched into a smile, a mix of admiration and something else he couldn’t quite name.

Still, Sam’s worry lingered, his eyes tracking every step, every glance you made. He had no doubt you were more than capable, but that didn’t stop the protective instinct in him.

When you came back out, looking satisfied with the info you’d gotten, Sam straightened up, pushing away from the car. “Nice work in there,” he said with a nod, trying to hide the relief in his voice. “Guess I don’t need to be as worried as I thought.”