Everything after that was a blur. It didn't even hit her that she'd been walking until she was leaning against the door in the dark of her room, staring at the shadowed figure sprawled across her bed. Sib stood there for what seemed like forever, trying her best to calm herself and keep from waking him. The light of the desk lamp was dim but illuminated the room just enough for her to see. Sam's hair was messily strewn across the pillow, hanging defiantly in front of his closed eyes. His lips were pursed and he clutched the bright yellow coffee cup in one hand, the other shoved beneath his head. He was so precious when he slept that Sib had nearly forgotten everything else for a moment.

She closed her eyes for a moment, taking in a deep breath and wiping under her eyes. Then she began over to him carefully, making sure that she stayed quiet. Sam sighed and stretched a little- flexing his fingers around the ceramic cup. She paused and waited before continuing to the bed. Despite all her effort when she'd gotten past her desk Sam's eyes opened and she froze. "Sorry." She whispered.

"Mm, no it's fine." He shook his head a little and brought his hand to his face as if to rub away the tiredness before looking at her. "Didn't mean to fall asleep on you like that."

"Oh. It's okay." Her hand shot up to the back of her neck nervously, watching him lean up and slide the cup onto the table. When he looked at her again he had this look on his face like he knew what was up.

"You okay?"

Sib swallowed. She didn't wanna answer, and quite frankly, she didn't have to because he was already on his side and ushering her over. She walked over to him and took her spot, stiff as a board and trying to play cool.

"What happened?" He lowered his brow is confusion, watching her every move. He knew her way too well. "Sib.."

"He.." She started, tilted her head a little as if she was in pain. "That's it."

And somehow Sam just got it despite her lack of words and brought her close, hugging her as tight as he could without hurting her. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be." She spoke up when they parted, letting her eyes meet his cautiously. "It's for the best."

"Still can't be easy. I know you guys-"

"We're over it. I'll be okay." She cut him off. It didn't hurt as much as she thought it would to say it. Maybe she was just numb. Maybe she was blocking it out or maybe somehow, somewhere inside she knew Dean was right.

Luckily he didn't say anything else. If he did she would've just left to sleep on the couch. She didn't wanna talk about it, didn't want to do anything but feel her head hit the pillow and let her eyes close for the night. Then his hand pressed to her cheek and she stiffened a little bit more, trying not to go all wide eyed and deer-like because why in the hell would he do that. He licked his thumb and brushed it under her eyelashes and she had no choice but to close her eyes.

"You've got mascara.." And Sam's voice drifted. "You were crying weren't you."

"Yeah." Sib admitted and it was painful. He sighed and wiped at her cheek until she opened her eyes to look at him. He had this look on his face like he was the one who got hurt, like his blood was running cold or someone just died.

As soon as she dropped her head in shame he nudged her back up to look at him. She wouldn't. She was fucking embarrassed and kept her eyes closed because she felt stupid. All she seemed to do was cry. She was no hunter. She was weak. Then his hand was at the back of her neck, pressing her a little closer. "Don't cry anymore."

And Sam kissed her. It wasn't a real kiss, but his mouth pressed to her and their lips locked.

Her eyes fluttered open when he pulled away a little. "Sam.." She started, drawing in a breath.

"I'm sorry."

There was this little ping in Sib's chest and he must have sensed it because she didn't say anything.

"Not for that." He withdrew his hand from her and pulled away to look her in the eye. "I heard what happened out there. That's.. why I'm sorry."

She opened her mouth to speak but no words left. Sib didn't know what the hell to think anymore. "I don't understand."

"I'm why he let you go."

"He let me go because it was the right thing to do." Sib spoke up finally, scooting her hand over to cover his. "You can't blame yourself for the decisions he makes all the time."

"And you're just okay with that?"

"For the most part, yeah. And I'll come to have none of it bother me at all."

Sam gave her a look of confusion. He was completely mystified by the whole thing, how she was just so calm all of a sudden about everything. She was acting like none of it mattered and that was nothing like her. Little did Sam know the that he was the reason for Sib being so completely alright. As soon as she'd gotten to the room her mind seemed to clear. Maybe she didn't think right around Dean, either. "How can you be okay with everything?"

"Because I can't keep holding onto something that already gone. I gotta move on. I keep talking that I don't want to get stuck in the past and by not letting him go, that's exactly what I'm doing. So, I'm gonna move on."

Then there was silence, like what she said had cleared the whole house. It wasn't awkward or strange, just peaceful. Sam had understood her and allowed himself to take another breath, running his knuckles over the palm of her hand. After what seemed like the longest time Sam spoke up, sliding the pillow over. "Come lay down."

He didn't really have to ask, Sib's head was already sinking into the cottony fluff before she could even reply. He was leaning up on his arm still, watching her carefully and brushing her hair behind her ear. Sib finally gazed up at him and that nervousness she always felt when Sam looked at her like that came back. He smiled a little and leaned down, leaving a kiss near the corner of her eye. "You want me to stay?"

Sib nuzzled deeper into her pillow, patting next to her. He could only see half of her smile but it was enough. "Please." She said a little muffled.

He rested down beside her on his back and let her snuggle into his chest, cautiously pulling his arm around her until his hand rested on a flannel covered hip. How she was so tiny Sam could never understand. Her hands tugged at him as she fell into sleep and Sam just laid there staring at the ceiling, drawing little miscellaneous shapes onto her arm and tracing over the mark there. To be honest, Sam didn't know what the hell he was doing. All he could think of was that Dean had hurt her, and he had to be the one to put the pieces back together. Again.

And it would be the last damned time, too.