Handling a baby was harder than icing a vampire. You went to the fridge, pulling out a beer that you gladly took a long sip of while Dean jogged a baby that you’d randomly found on the scene of a killing during a hunt. You suspected the baby was connected, so you took her home, and found that her name was Nevaeh because of her little bracelet.

Now you were tired out, had changed a million nappies and decided that you were never going to be a mother. However, a good thing that came out of this was seeing how good Dean was with kids. He always had that streak, and his soft side was a really good one to see.

He bounced the little girl in his arms, holding her securely by her legs with his hand patting her back gently as he shushed her with his deep voice calming her down. You held up a cold one to see if he wanted one, and he nodded, winking in appreciation.

“Shh, go to sleep, squirt, I’ve got you.” He murmured, approaching the cot as Nevaeh’s eyes closed and nose scrunched up as she fell asleep. Dean was a dab hand at babies, you could give him that.

The fridge was stocked full of baby formula, and you were pretty sure one of Sam’s many credit cards were now bankrupt with the amount of supplies you’d gotten.

“Shh, sweetheart, s’okay. M’here. Just f’you.” He laid Nevaeh in the cot, tucking her in before making his way over to you and gratefully opening a beer, taking a long sip before running a hand through his hair.