You and Dean had one young son, Asher, together, and a baby girl, Charlie, barely a month old. Dean had been out on a hunt, and you were lying on the couch with them both. Charlie was fast asleep on your chest, and Asher was lying between your legs, his head in your lap, his little arms around your leg.

“Daddy’s home..” Dean called out, his voice hoarse and tired as he walked into the bunker.