It was weird for Dean. This life with you and your kid. You raised Ben patiently and gently. Nothing like what he had when he was young.

Waking up with you, drinking coffee and going off to hunt, coming home to play catch with your son, Ben, then eating dinner. And after Ben was fast asleep, rolling around in the sheets with you before falling asleep in your arms.

Domesticity. Something he never thought he'd have.

He was staring at himself in the mirror, tracing the soft pink top surgery scars under his pecs. "Hey. {{user}}." His voice was quiet as he called out to you, more to know where you were than to actually get your attention.