Abigail's eyelids fluttered against her cheeks as she woke, and her eyes opened to present those big blue eyes which Sam had found himself thinking about the past few days.

He sat there patiently, keeping very still and quiet, as she scanned the room trying to understand where she was, waiting for her to notice him. He saw the realisation set in and she exhaled through her teeth, closing her eyes again for a brief moment to collect her thoughts together.

And that's when she saw Sam, and he couldn't help but note that her breathing seemed to hitch as a small smile appeared on her lips.

At first, she wasn't entirely sure it was him. This man's hair was glossy and soft, not scruffy from the times when he'd almost tore it out from frustration, and those eyes were not red-rimmed and frightened. His whole body language was relaxed, his breathing slow and steady, his fingers not shaking, clasped firmly together in his lap, and his shoulders were no longer tensed in fear. But she could place his smile and the soft touch in his eyes and she couldn't help the little skip of her heart at the sight of him.

"Hey," he breathed. "You, um, you feeling better?"

She nodded. "Yeah. The doctors said that they've noticed a dramatic difference lately and that in a few months I should be safe to go. Of course, we all know who's fault that is." And she gave him a wink, chuckling softly.

It was as if Sam was looking at Abigail for the first time. Without the distractions going on in his head, he could see her properly, could make out the red curls in her hair and the light flecks in her eyes and the slight flush in her cheeks. She was skinnier than he recalled, her face hollow and thin arms and wrists; and there were dark bruises under her eyes from the lack of sleep. But he couldn't deny the fact that she was pretty, beautiful even.

"I'm glad I could help." He said.

"So what did you come here to tell me?" Abigail's stomach knotted nervously, and tried to stop her thoughts from wandering off too far.

"Well, I'm leaving town- me and my brother heading off." He saw her expression fall. "I just came to say goodbye."

"Goodbye?" She parroted, quietly.

"I just thought I could stop by and see if you'll be okay. I can give you my number so you can call me any time- if you get in trouble or just need someone to talk to." He fumbled about in the top pocket of his jacket as he spoke, pulling out a piece of card he'd already noted his mobile number down on.

Who is that for, huh, Sammy? Dean had teased earlier, You haven't fallen for some crazy chick have you? Sam had told him to lay off and reminded him why he'd ended up in the nut house in the first place, and Dean had fallen incredibly quite.

Sam handed the girl the card, and she hesitantly took it in her hand and examined it, as if checking for some sort of sign that it wasn't real. "Thanks." She mumbled, tucking it under her pillow.

They sat like that for a moment- just looking at each other, waiting for someone to say something.

"So… I, uh, better be off." Sam stood up out of the chair, and took one more look at Abigail and then turned his back, heading for the door.

"Sam!" She didn't really think about what she was doing, she just scrambled out from under the covers, kicking them off with her feet, and out of the bed. "Wait!" She grabbed the back of his jacket, forcing him to turn around to face her. "Don't go."

She was breathless from the rush, her eyes pleading with him, and Sam felt his insides crumble.

"Abigail, I ca-" he began but his open mouth became too preoccupied to form any more words as the girl grabbed his jacket, tugged him down so that she could plant her lips on his.

She was tiny compared to him, standing on her tip-toes in order to keep their lips locked together, her arms wrapped around his neck. And Sam's hands rested on her waist, tugging her closer to him ever so slightly.

And the kiss only lasted a minute or two, it was small and sweet, and Abigail's teeth caught Sam's lip as she pulled away.

"Thank you, for everything."