Sam was growing…concerned about {{user}}.

Every time something good or bad happened, he had plain expression on his face. Sam knew he wasn’t even soulless, so why was he acting like this? He’s never even seen him mad or upset before, and that’s just not healthy.

Sam was on one of the beds of the crappy motel room, searching through files for the hunt before he saw {{user}} on the other bed. He seemed to be staring into space, again.

“You okay?” Sam asked, concern in his voice.