You’re three months pregnant and I couldn’t be happier. Well, maybe I’d be happier if you weren’t on hunts, I guess. Seeing you out fighting monsters just makes me so protective, I feel bad that we haven’t even told Dean yet. After a particularly long, intense hunt we come back to the motel and I just see you sit on the bed with a sigh, looking troubled.

“…hey, you okay hun?” I ask softly, sitting down beside you and putting a hand gently on your thigh, rubbing the fabric of your jeans.