Dean was anxious. He knew Sophie was sick. He knew she was scared. He wanted to be in there with her. He wasn't positive the doctors at the hospital would help, but he certainly didn't expect Sophie to storm out of the exam room in tears. He jumped to his feet, tucked her into his arms, started asking if she was alright, asking what happened.
And then the doctor tapped him on the shoulder.
"I need to speak to you alone Mr. Winchester," he said.
Dean glanced back and forth between his crying wife and the elderly doctor.
"A nurse will look after her and we'll be right back," the doctor assured him.
So Dean followed the old man into the exam room. His mind was racing. What could possibly be so bad that it'd rendered Sophie to tears and required a direct conversation between him and her doctor? Did they do more tests and find out something awful? Did she have cancer? Was Cas wrong and the baby had died?
"Is she okay? Is the baby okay?" Dean asked frantically, pacing the small confines of the exam room.
"I believe your wife has a narcotics addiction," the doctor said.
"You believe my wife has what?" Dean stopped pacing.
"A narcotics addiction," the doctor repeated, "I'm seeing a lot of red flags and I just want you to be aware in case…"
"My wife does not drink. She hasn't as long as I've known her," Dean cut him off, "She does not smoke anything. For the last five years she has not consumed caffeine except hot cocoa and an occasional…and I mean very occasional cup of green tea. She has stopped the green tea since she got pregnant in fact…even though every single doctor she's spoken to says it's okay. This woman - given a nearly unlimited supply of money and time - chose to build a cabin and then started raising sheep. Not to eat. No she's too attached for that. She just keeps them for wool and cheese and…hugs. Not to mention that when she was mauled by a freakin' bear back in 2006 she turned down narcotics every single time they were offered. She is not drug seeking."
"Mr. Winchester I need you to consider…" the doctor began.
Dean stormed out of the room.
"We're not having this conversation," he snapped when the doctor tried to follow.
Sophie sat in the waiting room holding hands with an - admittedly sympathetic-looking - nurse. The nurse had given Sophie a plastic cup of juice, which Dean noted was still entirely full. He also noted that despite the nurse's best efforts, Sophie was still crying.
Dean took Sophie's other hand and thanked the nurse.
"You okay?" He asked as he walked her to the car.
"They won't do anything Dean," she sobbed, stopping in her tracks, "They said I'm trying to get narcotics. And we both know that's not true. And they said I need a c-section and told me I should have general anesthetic and I don't want a c-section and I definitely don't want to be unconscious when I have the baby and…Dean I just…I just…I'm worried that…"
"It's okay, it's okay," he reassured her, "You didn't do anything wrong. Okay baby?"
Sophie nodded, still sniffling.
And then she threw up on the pavement.