Sam nodded his head, he was worried for her. he picked her up gently. cradling her carefully in his arms as he took her to the bed. "we need to get that corset off so you can breathe." he had seen how tight it was getting, it couldn't be helping her. He would help her remove what was needed to breathe a little easier, and when she asked him to put away his gun he stopped. Could he? had hadn't gone without a gun on his hip even before he turned to theft and murder.

He stood away from the bed, drawing his colt and looking at it with a strange face, almost as if he was confused as to what he was looking at. seconds that seemed like forever went by before he looked to her again, and he kept his eyes on her the whole time he spoke, " I don't know how to atone." He cocked the hammer to half. "I can't think of any good way to wash my hands clean." Sam opened the gate to the cylinder and pointed the gun up. "But if it'll help, and its what you want..." he began to rotate the cylinder, dropping the cartridges from the chambers into his free hand. Sam then moved, pulling the large lockbox from under the bed and unlocking it. He removed his gun belt, putting the colt back in its holster, then folding the best into the box next to his rifle. The lid closed, he locked it and pushed it back under.

Sam stayed in this position, kneeled next to their bed and looking at her. to someone who had trusted his entire life to those weapons this was up there in terms of biggest shows of trust, at least to him. "I won't kill again. i'll find other ways to keep you safe." and with that he held the key out to her. one could argue that getting rid of them completely would be better, but Sam couldn't do that. not when they had been the last gift he had been given, but from now on they would collect dust.