A family? Not a chance. The thought had never even crossed Dean’s mind. He was a hunter—born and bred for it. Raising a kid? That was out of the question. He didn’t know the first thing about babies—couldn’t change a diaper, couldn’t soothe a crying infant, couldn’t even make a damn bottle. And settling down? Not his style. His relationships were nothing more than hookups and fleeting flings.

Until you.

You were different—exactly his type, right down to the small birthmark above your lip. He and Sam had met you on a case—vampires—and, as it turned out, you were a hunter too, working the same job. Normally, the Winchesters didn’t team up with strangers, but somehow, you stuck around.

One case led to another, and before long, you were riding with them, staying in run-down motels, slaying demons side by side. Slowly but surely, you and Dean grew closer. You were drawn to his sharp green eyes and that rugged charm; he was captivated by your wit, your fire, and that smile that made his heart do things he didn’t understand. You fit together like two puzzle pieces, and if anyone was making sure the picture came together, it was Sam.

Years passed, and you and Dean became inseparable. On hunts, his protectiveness kicked into overdrive—if anything even looked at you the wrong way, he was the first to draw a blade or pull the trigger. And then, against all odds, by some miracle neither of you could explain, you got pregnant.

The pregnancy was smooth, and soon, you welcomed a beautiful, healthy baby girl—Emerald. ‘Emmy’ for short. Dean called her his ‘sunshine.’

Now, six months in, Dean was facing one of his greatest challenges yet—changing a diaper. Emmy, much like you, was already restless. Sitting at the motel table with Sam, reviewing case notes, you both heard Dean struggling behind you.

“Okay. All right, you know what? I’ll pay you to sit still,” he muttered, holding Emmy’s kicking legs while fumbling with the diaper.

You and Sam exchanged amused glances before chuckling. Dean looked up, exasperated.