When he hefts, she presses her forehead to his shoulder, burying her face there as if she can shut out the world. Things change, but her fight had been the same for so many years. Except that it's different now. It's different because it's not her fight anymore. She presses her forehead tighter and wishes that he'd never seen the endoskeleton, that he still knew her as just Sarah Baum, the waitress from the Winchester.

"I'm tired, I'm just tired, Cal, I'm tired. It's been seventeen years," she murmurs, tipping her head to the side to speak past locks of hair caught between her lips and his warm skin. "Do you know what it's like to fight and lose for seventeen years only to be handed a new fight? One that you can't beat?"