Sam led you back down the corridor, to your bedroom. He sat with you on your bed as you wept, his steady hand on your shaking shoulders. You hated people seeing you cry, especially Sam and Dean, but this time, the tears were inescapable.
"Once the treatments are done, you'll have your Dad back."
"We don't know if the treatments even work Sam." You sniffled, leaning into his shoulder.
"Well, even if-" Your uncle hesitated, like his words had gotten stuck in his throat. "If it doesn't work, then at least we have him here, and there's no way he's getting out of that panic room."
"What if they kill him? The treatments? They're hurting him."
Sam seemed at loss for words, and your heart sank.
"...Y/N, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you about any of this. I should have done, you had a right to know. I just hate seeing you upset, and I didn't want you to-"
"I understand. It's fine, Sammy." You looked up at him with your big, innocent eyes and gave him a weak smile. Sam gazed at you.
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You looked so much like your father. Sandy brown hair, emerald eyes, freckled complexion. He sighed and ruffled your hair.
"I'm gonna do whatever I can to get Dean back, okay kid? I promise."
