The tension in the bunker had been building for days. Ever since Sam found out what you had done—sold your soul to bring him back—things hadn’t been the same. It had been reckless, desperate, and you knew it, but at the time, all you could think about was getting Sam back. You couldn’t live without him. Now, he was here, alive and well, but the cost hung over you both like a ticking time bomb.

"You didn’t have to do this!" Sam’s voice was hoarse, his eyes wide with anger as he paced around the bunker’s library. "I could’ve found another way, we always do!"

You sat at the table, refusing to meet his eyes. You had known this fight was coming, but it didn’t make it any easier. Sam didn’t understand. He couldn’t.

"Another way?" you scoffed, finally looking up at him, your eyes flashing with frustration. "There wasn’t another way, Sam. You were dead. What was I supposed to do, just let you stay that way?"

Sam stopped pacing and turned to you, his face a mix of anger and pain. "Yes!" he shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. "Yes, if it meant you didn’t have to sell your damn soul!"

You stood up, your chair scraping loudly against the floor as you faced him. "I couldn’t lose you!" you snapped, your voice rising to match his. "I wasn’t going to just sit around and do nothing. I did what I had to do."

"At what cost?" Sam’s voice dropped, low and filled with hurt. "You’ve got a death sentence now, and for what? So I can live with that hanging over my head every day?"

You clenched your fists, trying to keep your emotions in check. "You’re alive, Sam. That’s what matters."

"Not like this!" Sam stepped closer, his expression pleading now. "I didn’t ask for this! I don’t want to watch you throw your life away because of me."

"Too late," you muttered, your voice bitter. "Deal’s already made."

Sam shook his head, his eyes filled with frustration. "And now you’re being reckless, like none of it matters. You’re going out on hunts like you’ve got nothing to lose- please.. I can't lose you, not like this."