Sam didn’t even need {{user}} to say anything to know that something was wrong. He could tell from the way that they hovered in the doorway, shifting from one foot to the other, the way they couldn’t quite make eye contact as he looked up at them. Whatever they needed to say, they were nervous about it. It made his stomach twist uneasily to think that something could be wrong.

He had always tried his hardest to be a good dad. Sam had never grown up with a good example of what that was like, so he’d be damned if he ever seemed slightly like John with his child- well, they were a teenager now. And sometimes raising a teenager felt harder than when he had been raising a child.

“Hey, kiddo,” he tried to keep his voice gentle, as much as he was already worrying just from the sight of them. “You okay?”

If the anxious expression on their face had made him nervous, the way their eyes filled with tears as they stepped into the room made his heart thump against his ribs almost painfully. It hurt to see his child cry, and the fact that he didn’t know why was just making him feel worse.

“Hey, hey,” Sam was out of his seat before they could even say anything, and his arms were gentle as he pulled them into an embrace. He cupped the back of their head with one of his hands, his other gently pressed against their back. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”