Samantha Winchester does not eat murdered animals (tofubacon) wrote in wariscoming,
>>“Hey, c’mon, Sam, look at me.”
She left the memory without even deciding to (she couldn’t have made that decision, not now, not when she was still so scared), responding instinctively to the fear and the need in his voice. Her head turned, her eyes focused, and she brought a hand up and rested it on his forearm as he cupped her cheek. Even that was enough to remind her of where she was, of what had happened, and the small, hurt noise worked its way up her throat before she could remember her injuries. She winced, braced herself for pain with her eyes screwed shut…then opened them again when it didn’t come. The cuts don’t hurt any more either, she realized, and took a deep, shuddering breath, her first real, deep breath since the demon had slammed her against the wall. Once she started she couldn’t stop and her breathing sped up till she was almost hyperventilating, and the tears started again too, accompanying sobs working their way up her throat, finally released.
This time when she leaned forward to hug him she didn’t cling, didn’t try to hide herself against him because he was the closest available point of safety. She knew she was safe now, even if she was still afraid, knew that it would take more than demons to get past Jacob to hurt her again. When she cried now it was because she knew that she was safe enough to let herself, because she’d just been through something that nothing in her life till now could have prepared her for, and because she knew instinctively that if she didn’t let the pain bleed out now her mind would get as infected as a physical wound that hadn’t been cleaned. So she looped her arms loosely around Jacob’s neck and sobbed into his hoodie even as the pain eased and her bruises faded. And even through all of her pain, a little bit of the hug was for his benefit too, an attempt to let him know that he didn’t have to keep up the front for her benefit any more, and she whispered, her voice almost as low and frantic as his had been, “I knew, I knew…I knew you’d get me out.”