“Focus on my heartbeat. I’ve got you, Y/N.”
Sam uttered to you with his face buried in your hair. His arms were wound tightly around you as you continued to tremble and breathe out just as shakily. You moved your head up slightly to press it against his chest, where he would place his right hand if he were reciting the Pledge of Allegiance like you were forced to do so many times in grade school.
You tried focusing on it, however it sounded so distant. Your breath shuttered, and you closed your eyes tightly. Till the thumping and rhythmic beating became calming. Sam kept muttering to you, saying that he wasn’t letting go, and that you would be okay. Once your panic attack had simmered down, and had simply left you in a hiccuping mess of tear stains, Sam pulled back to look at you. You nodded, like you always did, signaling to him that you were going to be fine.
He stood up, but didn’t release his grip on you. Instead he carried you up in his arms to his staggering six feet four inches stance. For a guy who lived his life fighting monsters, heaven, and hell, he knew how to soften up to help you out when you were battling your own demons. And he wouldn’t have it any other way with you.