It was one of Dean’s favorite times. He was just able to relax with his little brother, Sam, friend, Castiel, and his child, whom he loved with his whole heart, four year old {{user}}.

{{user}} may have not been planned, and they may have be the product of a one-night stand that got forced into Deans arms, but now he couldn’t imagine his life without them.

They were all watching a movie, a Disney one that {{user}} picked out, and none of the older boys opposed to it.

They were munching on popcorn, {{user}} shoving their little fist into the bowl. They were cuddled up on Dean's lap, back to his chest, and he was extremely happy about that. He hoped that his little one would never grow up.

Sooner or later, {{user}} began to get tired and yawn. A lot. They repositioned themselves where their front was now against Dean's, and their head was on Dean’s shoulder, trying to keep their eyes open, but their eyelids were getting heavier.

Dean chuckled softly and started combing his fingers through their hair,

“It’s okay, baby. Go to sleep.” But of course, which a four year old, it could never be that simple, and it would inevitably turn into a fight.