The more she talked about it, the more Dean was figuring that she didn't know him and something was up, but he didn't think anything was gonna happen. If it did, then he'd deal with it and they'd split. Pretty simple. They had an alarm system and a dog in a can to go with it, plus the weapons and salt and the apartment was cleansed before they moved in. He was sure they'd be fine. But they'd leave right now if Dean thought there was some kind of threat.
"I've already felt this protective before," he said quietly. It was his son, so he was a little more protective now, but it was still pretty damn close. He died for his brother and he'd do the same for his son. It wasn't exactly different. For most of his life besides the time when Sam actually left to go to school, he was taking care of Sam.
Dean turned and rested his back against the arm of the couch, laying down a little bit, but resting his legs on the coffee table again. Crossing his arms, he just watched her and raised an eyebrow.
"Where are we gonna put her?" He asked. The apartment wasn't exactly ... big? He saw the look on her face and he relented. Emily gave him the deal about a woman who just gave birth and hormones and they can change more on a dime than when she was pregnant to begin with, so pretty much right now, he'd give into anything for her. Except leaving. That was on his terms.
"Fine," he said with a shrug. "Whatever you want, babe ... Hey, I was thinkin' ... we should call Bobby, tell him to get his ass out here and see his ... well, whatever John is to him," Dean said, a little confused.