The motel room was quiet, save for the buzz of the neon sign outside the window. You doubled over near the bed, a sharp wave of pain cutting through you. When you pulled your hand away, blood slicked your palm, and your chest tightened with horror.

The door banged open.

“Y/N?” Dean’s voice carried his usual gruff edge, but when he saw you on the floor, pale and shaking, it cracked into fear. He dropped the takeout bags instantly, rushing over.

“Hey—hey, no, no, no.” He was on his knees, arms catching you before you could fall forward. His hands were trembling, trying to hold you together though he had no idea where to start. “What happened?”

You choked out the words, tears streaming. “Dean… the baby… I—I lost it.”

For a moment, his world stopped. His breath caught in his throat, eyes wide with disbelief. Then the anguish hit, sharp as a blade, and he pulled you against him, burying his face in your hair.

“No. Don’t say it like it’s your fault. Don’t you dare.” His voice was hoarse, raw. “This life… it takes everything from us. But not this. Not you. Don’t think for a second I’m blamin’ you.”

You gripped the front of his jacket, sobbing into his chest. “I wanted to give you something good, Dean. Something—something real.”

His jaw clenched, tears gathering in his green eyes despite how hard he fought them. “You are the good thing. You hear me? You’re it. Baby or no baby, I’d burn the whole damn world down before I let you think you’re not enough.”

He rocked you gently, holding you like you were the most fragile, precious thing left in his life. The hunter who never let himself hope, never let himself dream, finally broke in your arms—because you were his dream. And the thought of losing you shattered him more than anything else ever could.

“You’re all I need,” he whispered into your hair, voice shaking. “Always you.”