[More than anything, hearing him sob about it being his fault drives it home that this isn't the Sam who left here before. This is maybe a younger Sam, maybe older- but newer somehow, purer. He's somehow lighter than she's ever seen him, even falling apart in his grief like this. This different pain that she can do something about - because for once in the year she's known Sam, she knows she can do something to make him hurt less. Her heart aches like it never has before for him and she pulls him tighter, stroking his hair soothingly, trying to be everywhere at once and hug him tight enough to keep the whole world out.]

No, Sam, don't, it wasn't your fault. [She cups his face in her hands and pulls away enough to look him right in the eyes, tears shining unshed in her own.] I died because of me. Sam, I'd make that choice again a thousand times if it would've saved you. Please, honey, don't make this your fault.