A/N: One Year More, from Sam's point of view, though it can be read as a stand alone. Thank you for reading!
A frown marred your forehead as you stare at the expressionless face looking out into the night.
One year.
Waiting for that day when you would wake up, and he wouldn't be there anymore.
No one would truly know you then. Alone.
He wouldn't be there to wake you from the dreams.
To hold you in the dark. Comfort you when no other could.
Wouldn't be there when the need consumed you. The want of him, of that taste, smell, sight that he brought at those moments.
One year, and you would be lost.
To the knowledge that it was your life he had exchanged his own for.
Knowing that there would be no tomorrow for you anymore.
No anticipation for what made life okay, because he was the only reason you still had this grasp.
When the visions of future and past consumed you, when dying faces would look through you and you would know that you couldn't save them.
If you awoke to the cold, familiar rooms turned barren without his presence, you didn't think you would be able to stay.
Didn't know how to tell him that he was the person who made the madness of your dreams remain there.
One year more of waking to his body pressed against yours.
Of broken fumbles in the dark.
You couldn't bring yourself to turn on the light.
Days passed, minutes stolen, hours gone.
You stare at that face, closed off, and you wonder.
Of his thoughts.
You saw the pain, during those moments when they came together.
Could feel the tension of his shoulders as he came towards you.
Sensed that gleam you saw at times in his eyes. Desperation.
And you had to think of your life.
What you had both done.
What it would mean for you in the end.
You had walked into a store for supplies you had forgotten the purpose of, and you had seen.
The people of normality and ignorance glancing at you, without admiration of a kill well done, without fear of the blood lust they had seen.
Where no one knew you and they gazed for reasons apart from that life.
It was a seduction you didn't like to think about.
You knew that when the clock stopped, when he was gone, you could never go back.
You could go nowhere.
He was your home, your bed, your meal, he was your life.
One year less.
More.
The soft ticking of the timeless clock.
A broken silence after it had stopped.
One year more, and he would be gone.
And the madness would settle in.