Warm Hands

Fatal Flaws

I slumped against the motel bed and buried my face in my hands. The depression was guttural and I wasn't sure I could handle it much longer. I let out a sob before throwing myself toward the bathroom, picking up my bottle of antidepressants. My whole life had been spent messing things up, so why wouldn't I have a problem getting the top off a stupid bottle when it came to my death? I felt so weak and dizzy from lack of food and blood loss that I at least felt confident that those two things might kill me first; besides, pills didn't work last time. I finally pulled the lid off but I accidentally dropped the bottle when the door swung open. I cursed under my breath and dropped to the floor.
  "Hey Y/N, we're going out to dinner in a few minuets- hey, hey what are you doing?" Sam ran to my shaking body and pried the bottle from my bloody hands. "No, please, Sam" I whined, begging him to give them back.
  "Sh, it's okay sweetheart, you don't need those. I'm here now, okay? Right here." He picked me up and cradled me against his chest before sitting down on my bed. I sniffles and let go of a sob as it ripped through me.
  "Please let me go, I don't want to be here anymore" I whimpered into the hunters shoulder, feeling utterly useless and broken.

That's when Sam pulled back, looked into my green eyes and crashed his lips lightly into mine. I froze for a second, trying to comprehend the fact that I wasn't imagining this, and then I kissed him back. The kiss was passionate and full of love, and his hands holding onto my sides made me want to melt. I wasn't used to human contact and the slightest touch sent me reeling, but this was different, this was warm and soft and secure. I was safe in the arms of Sam Winchester.