OMG I'm in Supernatural?

#16 I love you

“You can go home if it makes you this sad,” his voice was calm, so calm it had to be forced.

“I’m not crying because I wanna go home,” I answered angrily crossing my arms. I wanted to glare at him. I didn’t though.

“Then why are you crying?”

I saw from the corner of my eye that he raised his hand slightly, as if to console me.

Men are stupid.

Just as I was about to answer, Dean was thrust into the door by an imaginary force. The door broke as Dean crashed through. I looked at Anna.

Anna-the bitch Angel.

“Hello Anna,” I whispered taking a relaxing fighting stance in the yard.

She had a serious expression and I really wanted to punch her.

So I did.

A right hook and then a left upper cut. She barely stumbled back. Darn Angel strength. I dodged the punch and stab that she directed towards me and ducked.

Cheater. She brought a knife to a fist fight.

I grabbed her wrist, stealing the knife as it hit the ground.

“I have to kill you too. As you are carrying a direct line vessel.”

“What?” I questioned confused. This girl was weird.

I gave her a I’m so gonna beat your ass look before round house kicking her in the face. I smiled at the satisfying crunch sound. She felt glaring but got back up quickly.

1 point to me. 0 points to the bitch Angel.

“Dean. Little help!” I shouted running indoors.

Okay, it was cowardly of me but gosh darnnit what else was I supposed to do. It wasn’t my greatest plan, it was my only plan.

I didn’t make it past the steps.

I felt the pain before I fell.

My shoulder was on fire, at least that’s what it felt like.

“Bitch,” I muttered turning over onto my back. Even though it hurt. A lot. She stood over me her face serene.

“Sorry,” she said bringing the knife down. I closed my eyes. I waited for the pain.

Instead I got a bright light an Dean’s rough yet soft hands on my face.

“Mackinley. She’s losing too much blood,” he sounded worried.

“I’m not dead,” I blinked my eyes and focused on him. Which was kind of hard with all the pain in my shoulder. He visibly sighed and relaxed.

I had never been happier to see his face. Ever. His green-eyes were dark and his face tight in anxiety.

“The baby?” I whispered.

Did I mention my shoulder hurt? I didn’t see the blood but I could smell it. The metallic smell that reminded me of coins. I hated blood. I cringe but moving hurt. I wanted to get away from the blood, which was stupid because the blood was on me. But at the time it seemed possible.

The adrenaline was wearing off. I was feeling incredibly sleepy like I wanted to hide under the covers and never look up again.

“Our baby will be fine. Go to sleep,” Dean whispered. I could’ve sworn I felt him kiss my head. I relished in the feeling that he said our baby. Our.

My last thought before shutting my eyes was I better not be dying.

“Mac,”