Amy brings him a hot hazelnut latte with whipped cream and smiles at his expression when he takes a sip. "We can't all drink black hotel rot gut like your brother," she says as she sits beside him on the bench and sips from her own coffee, which required four adjectives to order. She swings her feet just above the ground and smiles at Sam's gangly legs as he drinks his coffee and stares off into space.
It's been like this for days; they've been holed up in Lawrence on some crazy Winchester family pilgrimage, waiting for this ice storm to pass. They could just hop in the TARDIS and go, but Dean threatened violence on the Doctor when he suggested leaving the Impala behind. So for days, everyone has been sitting in hotel rooms and control rooms and just talking. Sam Winchester says the least of them all.
Amy hears it all. Even when the Doctor, Dean, and Castiel mutter to themselves in the corner. Well, Dean and Castiel mutter. The Doctor tends to give away the conversation by suddenly yelling, "He's just a ticked-off angel! It's not like they're really all that powerful." (Castiel spends a lot of time scowling at the Doctor, which actually makes him more endearing.) And Amy's no stranger to rejection and suffering. She sees it all over Sam's face, every second of every day. Whenever someone says the word "evil," in any context, he flinches like a beaten dog. Amy pats his knee as she leans her head against his shoulder and wonders exactly how many times Sam was told that he was evil, and just how long it took him to make that a part of himself.
"Thank you," Sam finally says, holding his coffee between his hands and popping the plastic lid off with his teeth. He leans close to the steam, and Amy scoots a little closer to keep him warm (and to absorb some of his warmth for herself; these Kansas winters are pretty brutal). Rory shakes his head at her, but smiles. That's why she loves Rory; he understands. "Dean would make so much fun of me."
"Well, this is between us. Secret best friends lattes." She nuzzles her cheek against his shoulder. He seems torn between relief and terror, as though having another person so close is hard for him. They've been traveling with the Winchesters for just over a month now, and she knows so little about them. She knows that a "very old friend" sent the Doctor to pick them up right before an explosion. She knows that there are angels and an apocalypse and that the Doctor isn't worried. She knows that everyone thinks Sam is evil, including Sam. Some days it feels like enough information, and on days like today it feels like nothing at all. "You're very quiet."
"It's been a very long year," Sam says in one of those wistful, broken tones. He seems to add as an afterthought, "I did a lot of bad shit."
"So?" He looks down at the top of her head -- she can feel it, but she refuses to look up at those sad puppy eyes. "No, really; what's the big deal? Can't be anything so bad that the Doctor can't fix it."
"I freed the Devil." It comes out like a confession; she wonders if he's been bottling that up, if he thinks she's going to recoil in horror. Then he's rolling as though he can't stop himself. "I drank blood -- demon blood. And I liked it. I started the apocalypse. By the virtue of being alive, I am destroying the world. I would be better off -- "
"Don't you even, Sam Winchester!" Amy sits up and scowls at him. "Look at you, beating yourself up for things that you never had a choice in. You did bad things. Everyone does bad things. I have seen so many bad things happen since I've been with the Doctor. Do you know who fixes bad things? Good people."
Sam looks away from her. "I'm not -- "
"You are." She covers one of his hands with her own, and adds a little softer, "You really are." He meets her eyes, and she smiles wider at him. He really is like something broken, and she's never seen a broken thing that couldn't be mended with time and love. "You feel all the pain the world, don't you? Bad people don't care about other people's pain. Trust me." Amy shivers in a way that has nothing to do with the wind and stops herself from placing a hand on her empty belly.
It's not enough, of course, but he seems a little more relaxed as she invades his personal space and steals his body heat. Quiet together, they both steal a moment of peace.