Sam woke to the sound of the creaking floorboard under the threshold of the bedroom door. He was on his feet, shotgun in hand, before realizing it was just Ruby. He shoved the gun back under the mattress and padded over to the foot of the bed. As his eyes adjusted to the minimal light, Sam saw the white gauze stretched over her bare skin. He couldn't help but reach out and trace the taped edge of the bandage on her stomach, just to make it real. Bobby said he'd shot her in the chest once and she'd barely flinched - this was new territory.

"It'll be fine, Sam," she said, pushing his hand away, "Just tell me where my bag is, and go back to sleep."

Sam walked past her and closed the door; her bag hung on the hook where he'd put it earlier. He pulled out the tank and shorts she usually slept in and set them on the edge of the bed before climbing back in to his spot; the sheets were already cold. He watched her change like he'd done a hundred times before, but this time her movements were slower, almost hesitant.

"You should sleep in here tonight," he said quietly, well aware that he was giving too much away with the request. She'd told him she was afraid of Alastair, and he'd sent her right into the lion's den without a second thought. More than that, she'd just obeyed without argument. He'd gotten more flack for screwing up her take-out order.

The bed shifted as Ruby climbed in, maintaining a respectable distance and lying with her back to him. After a few moments he felt her settle in and relax in preparation for sleep. Sam rolled to his side and moved closer until Ruby's body was flush against his. She lifted her head a bit and pulled her long curls under her neck. It had been weeks since they'd fallen asleep together, but Sam remembered the routine. He placed a warm hand on her shoulder, and her cold feet came to rest against his shins. Soon her breathing became slow and deep, and he listened for a long time before closing his eyes.