Sam's feet dragged as he crossed the threshold into the bunker. He let a sigh escape as he tossed his duffle in a corner. Despite the fact all three of you had come out of it relatively unscathed, that had been a brutal hunt and it was a relief to be back knowing it was over.
He could sense you enter the bunker behind him; Dean must still be in the garage getting the last of the gear. You dropped your duffle next to his and dragged a hand down your face.
Sam pulled you to him in a side hug, recognizing your mental and physical exhaustion that mirrored what he was experiencing. You gave him a weak smile that didn't reach your eyes and cleared your throat. Your voice still came out hoarse, "I'm going to shower."
Sam's eyes narrowed in concern. There was something off - he wasn't running at 100% himself to be sure, and it was to be expected you would need some time to recuperate from that mess, but something had tripped his spidey sense. He decided to wait and see for now. Nothing productive would come from pushing you before you were ready. He kissed your forehead and squeezed your arm before releasing you with a nod.
Sam wearily entered the kitchen and grabbed some bottles of water and a couple protein bars. Assuming your appetite was feeling like his right now, you would both have to force them down before collapsing, but it was better than waking up in the late afternoon feeling like crap from dehydration and low blood sugar.
He nodded to Dean who had just arrived in the kitchen, presumably to fetch a bottle of whatever could relax him and help him sleep, and trudged down the hall to his room. You had your own room in the bunker because Sam felt it was important for you to have your own space, but it was very rare that you used it. He had no doubt you'd be joining him after your shower.
He stopped short at the door. You were sitting on the bed hugging your knees. He quickly took stock of your condition: you were trembling slightly, but that could be mostly from the exhaustion. Your eyes were watery, but you weren't crying.
You looked up as he approached. "You said I should always come to you . . ."
Sam nodded, and waited for you to continue.
" . . . but you're just as wiped as I am. That's not fair to -"
He came to kneel next to you and brushed a hand across your hair. "And talking things through with you helps me, too. If I can't handle the conversation, I'll tell you and we can postpone it, but if there's something you need, I'd rather know!"
You searched his eyes for a moment chewing your lower lip. When you spoke it was just a whisper, "I feel like I screwed up. I feel like," your voice cut out and you swallowed a sob, "I feel like those people would be alive if I'd figured it out sooner, or been better at my job." You clenched your teeth and it was apparent it was taking all your willpower to keep from crying.
The light bulb went on and Sam realized why you'd hesitated starting this when he was drained too. He could do it though, if that's what you needed. He could at least try. He reached for you, wrapping you in his arms. "It's okay, baby girl. It's okay. I'm so, so proud of you for telling me!"
He maneuvered the both of you so he was sitting on the bed with you in his lap facing sideways, your chest against his. You buried your face in his neck and let the tears go. He waited, caressing your back as silent sobs shook you. You were too exhausted to cry for very long, and soon your sobs had become quiet sniffles. He reached around and grabbed a tissue, holding it to your nose as you blew.
"D-Daddy?"
"Yes, love?"
"Are, are you gonna spank me?"
You sounded so small. Sam hesitated while he thought how best to answer you. "Well, baby girl, let's think: did you do anything bad to deserve a spanking?"
"I was in charge of research while you and De' were being FBI. I was the one who guessed ghoul-"
"Why did you guess ghoul? Were you being sloppy, or is that what best matched our intel at the time?"
"I . . . n-no, everything seemed to fit."
"Did you guess and then act on your own? Or did you come to Dean and me and run it by us?"
"No, I told you."
"And we agreed that's what it looked like, didn't we?"
She nodded hesitantly, "Yes, Daddy."
"Was there anything at that time that suggested it was a shifter that you withheld from us? Or some clue that he was keeping his victims alive somewhere?"
"No-o," your voice broke and your eyes glistened with unshed tears.
He gently wiped them away with his thumbs and kissed your cheek. "So, I'm hearing that you did your best; we all agreed that the evidence pointed to ghoul, but we were wrong - all of us. The monster decided to kill those people once it realized we were coming for it - that's not on you. We did everything right, and we killed what needed killing. We did our job as best as we could."
The irony did not escape him that if she wasn't here, he'd be wallowing in the same overwhelming sense of guilt. In laying out the facts for her, he found it quieting his own intrusive thoughts - not that the mental images of those recently-slaughtered people hanging from that basement ceiling was going to leave anytime soon.
"I just feel really bad."
His heart broke. "I know, baby girl, me too. Here, let me take care of you. You'll feel better after you're clean and in your jammies. Then we'll get some food in your tummy, and you can take a nap with Daddy, okay?"
You nodded and he could see the pure exhaustion in your eyes. He helped you stand and half supported, half steered you into the shower room.
Sam reached in and turned the shower on so the water could warm up.
"Alright, baby, can you put your arms up for me? There's a good girl." He carefully slid your shirts over your head, leaving plenty of room so they wouldn't cover your face and make you feel claustrophobic. You gripped onto him to keep from tipping over as he bent down and removed your shoes one at a time, then he helped you step out of your pants.
You shivered as he briefly let go of you to shed his clothing and grab several towels so they'd be near at hand when you got out. His hands went under your arms and he helped you into the shower.
The two of you stood there for several moments, his arms wrapped around you and one hand in your hair as you just relished the hot water massaging your aching muscles. Sam pulled away gingerly and kissed your forehead, "okay, baby, let's start with your hair."
He eased you under the water stream, carefully keeping it from going in your face. He kept one hand around your waist and used the other to massage your scalp.
Your eyes closed and Sam chuckled. "Don't fall asleep just yet, baby girl, we're heading there. Can you hold onto me while I get the shampoo?"
You did as he said and fought to keep your eyes open as Sam started massaging again, this time with both hands, working the shampoo into your scalp and hair. He glanced at your face and smiled.
"I know I said it before, but I want you to know how very proud I am of you, baby. Not only did you tell me what was wrong so we could fix it, but you never once said anything bad about yourself. I know how bad you were feeling and I can't tell you how happy that makes me."
You returned his smile, but he could tell you were a little embarrassed at the praise. "I'm glad I remembered, Daddy. I'm really glad I made you happy."
Sam kissed your temple and murmured, "Having you in my life makes me happy every day. You are so good for me. I'm so glad you let me help you. You don't deserve to feel bad, or believe those things about yourself. I love you so much, my precious girl."
He carefully rinsed the shampoo out and gently ran a soft, soapy washcloth over your body. He'd love to take his time, but you both were ready to crash. Once you were clean he wrapped you in two of the towels so you wouldn't get cold and set you on a bench near the shower stall.
"Just wait one minute baby girl, while Daddy gets clean, okay?"
You nodded, too drowsy to answer, but Sam really was out in less than two minutes, drying himself off with the third towel and helping you back to the room.
Once you were dry with one of the towels wrapped around your head, and cozy in one of his clean flannel shirts, Sam passed you a bottle of water and a granola bar. You started to protest, but Sam shook his head and tapped a finger to your lips, a kind but unyielding indication he was not going to take any arguments on this point.
Sam could see the first bite stick in your throat, knew that with your thoughts on the victims it was going to make stomaching anything difficult, and decided a little distraction was in order. "Did I ever tell you about the time I had a sleepwalking episode?"
You perked up a little and shook your head. He took your bottle of water and, with one hand supporting the back of your head, helped you take a drink. He was relieved to see you were able to swallow this time.
"Well, I think we were in Arkansas; I was about twelve. Dad had been running us really hard, cracking down on our training."
He broke off a piece of your granola bar and popped it in your mouth. You took it quickly so he would continue his story.
"I think Dean had made some small screw up on a hunt, it wasn't a big deal, but it could have been, you know?"
You nodded and he paused to slip you another bite. "Anyway, it freaked Dad out and he started really going psycho drill sergeant with our training the next couple weeks, all the while really harping on what can happen if we get sloppy."
Another drink of water, and another bite of granola passed your lips before he continued, "Well, Dad left one night on a hunt. It was supposed to be a milk run I guess, but between my exhaustion from the drills and my mind full of all the bad stuff that could happen to Dad, I ended up sleeping so restlessly I started walking around the hotel room bumping into stuff. Dean almost capped me with a salt round thinking I was a ghost."
"What did your dad do?" You were so wrapped up in the story he doubted you'd even noticed you were nearing your last bite.
"Well, for a second he looked like he was going to be mad, but I think the hunt had gone even more smoothly than he'd expected. For a second he just looked at me about to nod off in my white pajama shirt and ended up busting up laughing. He joked to Dean he could see the confusion and said he couldn't fault him for responding to a potential threat. He actually admitted he'd been driving us pretty hard and things calmed down a little after that. No more sleepwalking, anyway."
You both were smiling and he helped you drink the last of the bottle of water.
"Alright, baby girl, you were so good for me, and now it's time for bed." Sam peeled back the covers and you crawled in facing the center of the bad. He joined you and wrapped the blankets around the both of you before draping his arm over you and pulling you close.
He pressed a kiss to your forehead and murmured, "Sweet dreams, Angel. No sleepwalking for you." He started humming a random tune under his breath and your breathing evened out, you were asleep within minutes. He brushed his lips across your cheek and felt his own breathing slow. He fell asleep with a content smile on his face.