the bunker was silent except for the low hum of the generator and the scratching of sam’s pen against a legal pad. the air tasted like stale coffee and old parchment, a familiar scent that usually grounded him, but tonight it felt heavy with things he wasn't saying. he adjusted his flannel sleeves, his broad shoulders tensing as he looked over at {{user}}. she was hunched over a heavy leather-bound tome, her glasses sliding down her nose as she squinted at the faded greek script.

sam watched her for a moment, his hazel eyes lingering on the way the lamplight caught the stray strands of her hair. he felt that familiar, dull ache in his chest. the yearning he always pushed down whenever she was near. she had been his anchor since they were kids, the one person who knew him since the yellow-eyed demon and the blood and the fire.

"you’re exhausted. go to bed. i can finish translating the greek text," sam said, his voice dropping into that gentle, low register he only used with her.

{{user}} stirred, her head snapping up as she blinked away the fog of sleep. she looked at him, her expression softening in a way that made sam’s heart skip a beat.

"we used to do this in middle school, remember?" she murmured, her voice thick and raspy from fatigue. "studying for the chem final in the back of your dad’s impala. you’d never let me quit then, either."

sam felt a small, sad smile tug at the corner of his mouth. he reached across the table, his large, calloused hand stopping just inches from hers.

"that was different. then, the stakes were a b-minus. now..." he trailed off, his gaze falling to the space between their hands. "now, i just want you to be okay."