you arrived to the bunker in a few hours. sam has already started going into withdrawals. his hand tightly gripping yours and his lips pursed, trying to keep from saying anything. but you could tell it was eating away at him. the only solution was to keep him on demon blood until you had a better idea. you and sam sat quietly in your room, starring at the wall. dean walked in a small glass of blood. he hands it to sam.
"drink up." he murmurs. sam takes the glass, drinking down the warm liquid. his grip softens as he swallows it down. you sigh. you brush his hair gently out of your face.
"okay?" you ask.
"yeah... yeah i'm fine." he mumbles in response. you sigh. is he going to be okay? who are you kidding... of course he's not going to be okay. he's back on demon blood. fucking demon blood. and it's all your fault. you wrap your arms around him and gently rest your head on his shoulder. you can feel him break into a light smile as he leans his head onto yours.
"i love you." he softly says, kissing your forehead gently.
"i love you too." even though i'm making your life a living hell... you think. or are you? considering you've never been to hell- and don't care to go- you can't necessarily relate this to such a place. but, it's an expression, you remind yourself. stop over analyzing things. or under analyzing! jesus fuck what if-
"y/n?" sam asks, stopping your rapid and insane train of thought.
"yeah?"
"what happened when you were..." he pauses, pushing away from you. he takes your hand, looking deep into your eyes. you turn to him.
"what happened with adam?" you give him a sad smile.
"what's done is done." he presses his lips together and looks down, releasing your hand and putting his into his lap.
"i just wish it never happened." you sigh.
"i know, honey. i know."