The day had been rough. Your body was fighting against you more than usual, and you'd spent most of it feeling useless as you slept off and on. Sam and Dean had left you to your own devices for the most part, caught up in research and scoping out cases. They also knew you preferred to be alone during times like this. You hated when they saw you this weak.

It was past dinner now, and you hadn't really eaten all day due to lack of energy. Your shared room with Sam was lit only by a small lamp in the corner, and you were fast asleep once again in bed. The door opened without your knowledge, and then someone was rubbing your arm.

"Baby," Sam said softly, his hand coming up to brush some hair off your face.

You groaned softly, eyes blinking open to look at him tiredly. They were rimmed red from crying earlier due to the pain, but there was a small smile on your face. "Hi, Sammy," you whispered.

He smiled softly, holding out a package of crackers. "You need to eat something, sweetheart."

You sighed, licking your lips. "I'm nauseous."

You were always nauseous, but sometimes it was worse, like today. Sometimes it felt impossible to eat. Sam, who had learned pretty much everything about you, just nodded, putting the crackers down on the bedside table for later.

He crawled into bed beside you silently, spooning you from behind and wrapping you in his arms. He kissed your head, breathing in your scent. You melted into his embrace. "Missed you today," he murmured into your hair.

"I know. I'm sorry," you whispered back, voice full of guilt. You hated the days you couldn't do anything. With a life like yours, it felt especially hard.

Sam held you tighter. "Don't be." One of his hands slid down, massaging your hip gently. His large fingers dug into your skin perfectly where he knew you hurt extra, and you winced slightly, a soft sigh of satisfaction leaving your lips.

He kissed your hair. "Just relax, sweetheart. I've got you." You let him massage your sore spots, the discomfort from him doing so far outweighed by the temporary relief afterward. "Love you so much," he murmured, kissing your shoulder.

His hand came up, massaging your neck and shoulders next, the pads of his thumbs rubbing hard circles over the areas. You groaned out softly. "I know. I've got you," he whispered.

Once it was over, your body felt a little better and a lot lighter. He wrapped his arms back around you, nuzzling into your neck and holding you close. You sighed softly, eyes closing again. You felt so tired and you hated it.

Hated how useless you were to them. "I'm sorry I'm no help," you mumbled.

Sam shook his head. "Stop," he whispered, rubbing circles over your belly with his thumb. "You are more than enough, exactly like this."

You swallowed, slowly turning around to look at him. "You can't mean that. Half the time I can't even get out of bed for half the day."

He looked at you softly, bringing a hand up to caress your cheek. "Baby, I love you. You get that, right? I love you on your good days and your bad days and every day in between. You're worth more than what your body allows."

You searched his eyes, tears starting to form in yours. He pressed his forehead to yours, holding you close. "Don't cry," he whispered, thumb brushing over your cheek.

You sniffled, giggling softly. "Can't help it. I love you."

He grinned, a light in his eyes as he leaned in and kissed you gently. "I love you so much more."