The bunker was too quiet, tension thick after the heated argument that had erupted between them.

“{{user}}, we’re not doing this,” Dean’s voice was sharp as he followed her into the war room.

“Doing what?” she snapped, not turning around. “Pretending everything’s fine when you’ve been shutting me out for weeks?”

Dean’s jaw clenched. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“By pushing me away?” Her voice cracked, her anger laced with hurt. “Dean, I’m not some damsel. I’m your wife.”

“I can’t lose you,” he murmured, the vulnerability in his tone breaking through her walls.

{{user}}’s eyes softened, and after a moment, she placed his hand gently on her stomach.

“You’re not going to,” she whispered, her voice barely above a breath. “Because I’m pregnant.”

Dean’s eyes widened, his breath catching as he stared at her in shock.

“{{user}}…” His voice cracked, his hand trembling against her stomach.

“I was scared to tell you,” she admitted softly.

Dean’s expression crumbled, his forehead resting against hers. “I’m so damn sorry.”

Tears filled both their eyes as he pulled her into his arms, holding her close.

“We’re in this together,” she whispered, her lips brushing softly against his.

“Damn right we are,” Dean murmured, his hand protectively covering hers.

And in that moment, the weight that had been crushing them both finally lifted.