Ever since Ana started hunting with the Winchesters years ago, there had been something between her and Sam that was never fully named. It wasn't exactly friendship, but it wasn't something they could admit aloud either. It was a constant, almost palpable tension, laden with lingering glances, swallowed words, and gestures that said more than any conversation could. They avoided talking about it—not for lack of courage, but because admitting feelings when you were living from motel to motel fighting monsters that ripped away everything you loved was practically asking for trouble. And Sam knew all too well the price of caring.

Still, Ana had become essential to them. Her status as a vampire—a vampire who categorically refused to kill humans—made possible many things the brothers couldn't even attempt. There were cases where her keen sense of smell saved hours of investigation. There were nights when her superhuman strength ensured everyone escaped alive. Perhaps that was why Sam, on that first date, convinced Dean to lower his stake and at least listen to her. Or perhaps it was simply because Sam, even when he tried not to show it, always had a heart that was too protective and sensitive for his own good.

And, over time, their close relationship created a dangerous familiarity. Sam found himself noticing her little habits; Ana, in turn, understood his mood just by the way he used his laptop or ran his hand through his hair. It was a comfortable silence, albeit full of electricity.

That particular night, you were sitting side by side in yet another cheap motel room, leafing through books and browsing dusty files in search of any clue about the demon you were hunting. The constant clatter of keys and the creaking of the chair were the only sounds in the room—until Sam noticed Ana was restless.

He didn't need much to understand why. They had run out of blood bags the previous night, and although she was controlling herself, her hunger was beginning to manifest itself in small details: her shorter breaths, her fixed, almost desperate gaze, directed not at the laptop, but at him.

Sam felt the weight of it instantly. His tension increased as he realized she was fighting against herself. And, despite knowing exactly how dangerous the situation was, he simply… couldn't say no. Not to her.

“Damn it…” he thought, pressing his lips together before sighing deeply. He ran a hand over his face, trying to look annoyed, when in reality he was more worried than he wanted to admit. Then he moved the laptop slightly to the side, as if finally giving up fighting something he already knew was inevitable.

He turned his body towards her, slowly rolling up his shirt sleeve. The gesture was careful, almost delicate, as if he wanted to make it clear that everything was alright—or that, at least, he would accept the risk. Then he raised his arm and extended his wrist toward her, keeping his gaze fixed on Ana's eyes.

"Just... don't overdo it, okay?"

He murmured, rolling his eyes in an attempt to hide his nervousness—or perhaps how much he trusted her.