A/N: To those looking for more Heat of the Moment, it's coming soon. I promise. My muse is scattered these days and I kinda just let her have her way rather than fighting it. Right now, she is extremely interested in one Sam Winchester.

I woke up early this morning with a rabid little plot bunny digging at my brain. I've been intending to write a scene like this for Sam...but I didn't expect it to fall onto the page the way it did.

Two things learned from this: Steph is in fact always right - some stories tend to write themselves - and I am still more than capable of surprising my clever beta. ;)

Looking for more Sam fics? My good pal stephaniew has hopped onto the bandwagon! Check out her new OSS A Moment Like Thisand say hello to her OC Callie! Can Sam win the no-nonsense hunter's heart? Steph's got some great things planned. Join me in supporting her as she begins her newest endeavor!

Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural.

More Than Words

Sam Winchester tugs off his t-shirt and flings it on the bathroom floor. The lightweight article makes a slight thud as it hits the cabinet door. Having abandoned his boots by the door, the next article to go is the heavy denim of his blue jeans. They join his shirt and, before removing the remainder of his clothing, he turns the spray of the shower to allow the water to run hot.

Boxers and socks peeled away, he opens the shower door and steps into the steam of the waiting oasis. It was a difficult hunt. He'd gotten separated from Dean and Kait. He didn't know if they were even alive. He slams his fist into the tile in front of him. Tears of frustration begin to fall and he swallows hard attempting to eat the guilt and sadness that threaten to overtake him.

The water burns his skin, but it doesn't cleanse. It doesn't wipe away the pain. It doesn't soothe the tension or melt away the terror of what happened. It doesn't - even for a moment - make him forget.

~ ~ ~ SPN ~ ~ ~

Fresh off her shift at the hospital, Halley notes her boyfriend's abandoned shoes by the front door but sees no sign of the other occupants of the house. She doesn't give it much thought. It's not terribly unusual for the hunters to keep different hours. Especially not when they'd taken separate cars.

Hearing the shower running, she makes her way up the stairs. Cracking the bathroom door, she sees Sam's clothes littering the floor. It's been days since she saw him last and a smile crosses her lips as she discards her scrubs and lets down her hair.

She opens the glass panel and steps into the enclosure only to be met by Sam's sobs. She touches him carefully to alert him to her presence, startling him from his trance before lowering the blistering temp of the spray.

"Sam?" She says his name calmly and quietly. With trained fingers, she begins to check him over. She finds bruises and scrapes - typical injuries, nothing that appears too serious. She reaches for the soap he prefers and a soft sponge she keeps on the rack.

"Don't," he growls, grabbing her wrists.

Twisting out of his grip, Halley reaches up to touch his face. Her hands sooth over his slicked back hair and knead his neck. "What happened?" she asks, eyes filled with questions. "What's got you so..."

Suddenly unable to hold back, he drags her roughly to his chest. Lifting her until the tips of her toes barely touch the flooring, he buries his face in the crook of her neck. "They're gone, Hal," he murmurs. "I..."

She stiffens briefly before her arms tighten around him. She presses her lips to his neck, before cupping his face. She feels the sting of tears filling her own eyes and forces them back. This isn't about her. This is about Sam. "You don't know that..." she comforts looking at him, drowning in the bottomless depths of emotion swirling in his blue-green eyes. "They..."

Sam's heart pounds as he looks into the shimmering cobalt of Halley's eyes. Her optimism and sweet understanding are almost too much. He can't handle it. He doesn't deserve her kindness. He failed. He failed two of the most important people in his life. What if he couldn't protect her either? What if he couldn't keep her safe?

He shuts his eyes, effectively shutting her out. He loosens his grip on her and pushes her away. "You should to go," he tells her, his voice gruff with emotion. "You aren't safe here."

At first, she thinks he means the shower. That his control is threatening to snap and he's afraid he won't be gentle. They've burned hotter than Dante's Inferno before. She isn't afraid. Part of what makes being with Sam exciting is the many facets of their love making. He's passionate and tender. Sometimes wild and out of control. Always considerate.

Her heart sinks when she realizes that's not what he means at all. He knows she isn't afraid of him. She never has been - not even when she probably should have. He means she should run - not walk - straight out of his life. He means she should give up and never look back. And she won't stand for that.

Ignoring him, she grabs for the soap and the sponge again. Sam's jaw sets firmly and he stands more still than a marble statue. He's unmoving, unbendable...but not unbreakable. She knows this man. Knows if she's patient, he'll let her back in.

Soft, soothing circles. The natural fibers draw across his skin under the guidance of her capable hand. She watches as his resolve splinters. Sees some of the agony melt from his eyes. It's replaced by something else. Longing. Longing for answers and comfort. Longing to be free of this pain...perhaps free of this life entirely.

Time. It'll take time to fully heal him - and not only from this loss if it truly is one, but from all the suffering he's had to endure. She wants to do that. She wants to be there. And with wide and innocent eyes, she promises silently that she will be.

He watches her take control. Watches the way she manages him. He feels the comfort in her touch. Feels the way she'll never give up no matter how hard he tries to push her away. She's stubborn and fierce. Accepting and trusting in ways no one else has ever been. And in that moment, he falls in love with her all over again.

"Halley..."

Her name drifts from between his parted lips like a prayer. A prayer for forgiveness, for understanding...but most of all a prayer of gratitude. Of thankfulness that she's here. That she's who and what she is.

Though it's his lips that crush demandingly over hers, he's the one who gasps. The loss of breath at the way she's pliant and soft under his touch amazes him. He presses her against the cool tile of the shower wall, his tongue lapping at her mouth.

Halley arcs into Sam in sweet surrender. The contrast of being pressed between the frigid, unyielding tiles and his soft, warm skin heightens everything. She feels everything in vivid detail.

The roughness of his calloused hands on her sensitive breasts. The whip of his tongue as it lashes against hers. The piercing way he looks deep into her soul as he wraps her legs around his waist, pinning her to the wall. The delicious ache when he enters her in a hard, fast thrust.

Sam nips at the skin of her throat as he hides his face against her shoulder. Halley can't see his tears, but she can feel them. The scalding droplets slide down her chest as her fingers slip through his wet hair and over the soapy contours of his slick back.

His pace is relentless. He drives into her, chasing his pain into the comfort of her body. He feels her muscles tighten around him, pulling him in and taking everything. Her breath is hot on his neck, but she remains silent. It tugs at his heart that she knows him. Knows that more than the words he just needs her.

It's that overwhelming compassion that breaks him. He relaxes into her touch - into her arms - even as he continues to support them both. He finds peace and solace. The reminder that she's there - there to catch him when he stumbles, there to reassure him and mend his broken heart - that even if his world falls apart he has her.

His mouth trails slowly back to hers. He kisses her thoroughly, gently. Emotion pools in his chest. He feels alive. She saves him without knowing. Rescues him with a weapon more powerful than salt or iron, more precious than the Colt. Her heart.

Halley touches her forehead to Sam's and stares into his eyes as his rhythm shifts. It's slower now. Steady. He cradles her gingerly but firmly. Tension coils sweetly in her belly with a renewed intensity.

This is different. It's new. While the circumstances are those she wouldn't want to repeat, she still allows herself to savor the rush washing over her. Pleasure at being able to absorb his pain. Relief that he's still here. With her.

Sam's jaw is taut as he tries to hold back, tries to sustain for just a little longer. His body vibrates with effort until she murmurs the all too familiar words. Words that still hit him like a freight train. Words that hit him even harder today.

"Let go..." she whispers.

His head falls against her shoulder and he presses into her - presses into the wall - unable to get close enough. "I love you..." he whispers as he shatters. "So much..."

Halley brushes her lips over his tattoo as she sinks to the floor. She watches as Sam picks up the discarded sponge and humming softly as he teases it over her skin reverently. She wraps her arms around his chest, letting her head lull contentedly against his chest as the water washes away the bubbles on their skin.

They stand in silence, clinging to each other until the first icy beads strike her back as the hot water runs out. Sam switches the dial to off and nudges Halley out of the stall. With a weak smile, he envelops her in a fresh towel before wrapping one around his own waist.

When she reaches for another towel and a comb for her hair, he stills her hands. Ruffling the cloth over her honeyed locks, he leans down to give her the barest of kisses.

Unsure of what to say, she looks up at him. "Are you hungry?"

Sam shakes his head, the sadness seeping back. He brushes his lips over her forehead, his hand cupping the back of her neck. "Go ahead to bed. I think I'm gonna wait up a while."

~ ~ ~ SPN ~ ~ ~

Sam stares at his phone the way he has been for hours. Nothing. Blank screen. His calls to Dean and Kait go to voicemail. The dread heightens. It's getting worse, oppressive almost. Part of him wishes he hadn't sent Halley to bed. That he'd asked her to sit with him.

As though she has ESP, she appears in the doorway. Leaning her head against the jam, her eyes meet his. "Guess you haven't heard anything," she says, tightening her grip on the blanket around her shoulders.

He looks at her and forces a smile even as he shakes his head. This is when she's most beautiful. Sleepy eyes and rumpled mess of thick hair shining in the dim light. He doesn't have to be close to see the light smattering of freckles across her nose and cheeks - freckles that are usually concealed by the most minimal amount of make-up.

"You look exhausted," he says finally. "Why don't you get some rest?"

She pads across the hardwood floor, the ruffled hem of her nightgown fluttering around her knees. Standing in front of him she sighs. "The bed's too empty without you," she tells him, bumping her leg against his. The corner of her mouth tips up in a half smile. "You're up, I'm up..."

"Halley," he says softly.

"Sam," she answers.

Knowing he's lost a fight he had no desire of winning, he opens his arms to her and she settles in his lap. The blanket gets wrapped around both of them and for the second time, she brings him balance. Draws him in a way only she can back to center. Tucking her close, he prepares himself for a long night.

~ ~ ~ SPN ~ ~ ~

Sam practically jumps when he feels his BlackBerry tickle his palm. He'd turned the sound off to avoid waking Halley if the call came through.

"Dean?" he yelps.

"Relax, Sammy, we're fine," his older brother's voice comes through the line.

"Where are you? What the hell happened?" he asks. Halley stirs in his lap, her eyes fluttering open as she leans closer to listen to Dean's explanation.

"Kait sprained her damn ankle and I slipped trying to get her out," he says. "The batteries on the cell phones were dead. The whole thing's been a huge clusterfuck."

Though they can't make out what she's saying, it's clear that Kait's bickering with him in the background. "Simmer down!" Dean tells her with a chuckle before coming back to the line. "Anyway," he finishes. "We decided to stop for the night. We'll see you in the morning, okay?"

"Dude, you suck," Sam laughs. All that worry. For nothing. They were safe.

In the background, Dean shuffles, his voice dropping low enough that neither of the women can hear him. "Shut your cakehole," he goads. "Go play doctor or get the nurse to give you a..." he yelps and the phone clatters to the floor. "Ouch! What was that for?"

Kait's voice is loud and clear. "Just because I'm on crutches doesn't mean I can't kick your ass, Winchester!" She turns to the couple on the line. "Seriously," she says. "He's worse than a toddler."

Sam can hear Kait's eyes rolling and chuckles as he hugs Halley close. "You're okay?" he asks her.

"Sam, I'm fine. Dean's fine. Y'all get some rest okay?" Her voice is tired but strong. "Sorry for the drama."

"See you tomorrow," he answers.

Kait laughs. "Take Halley and go to bed, Sam," she says seriously. "Y'all have been through enough tonight."

They make their good byes and Sam ends the call. His thumb slips over the plump curve of Halley's lower lip and across her cheek. He presses his forehead to hers and sighs softly. "I think Mama Bear has given her orders," he whispers, his lips ghosting over hers as his fingers tangle in her hair.

Halley smiles against Sam's mouth. "Yeah," she answers quietly. "Whatdoya say, Sam?" she prods after another kiss. "Take me to bed?"

Sam nods, his eyes shining as he smiles at her. Taking her hand, he lifts it to his mouth and presses a kiss to the center of her palm. "Thank you," he says.

The sincerity and love in his eyes make her shiver. Halley wonders how it is he feels this is unexpected. Why it is he's never been truly loved. Deciding it doesn't matter, she kisses him hungrily. More than words. "Wanna show me?"

"Yeah," he replies, a grin crossing his face and climbing into his eyes as he sweeps her off her feet and into his arms. "Actually, I do."