It had only been a few months since Dean and {{user}} had their baby. And.......boy, was it nothing like Dean had ever imagined.

Sure, he raised Sam from a young age, but he was a kid too. He was still learning how to survive in the world while also making sure that Sam was okay, but it wasn't like he was the sole provider for Sam, John was there too.

But for this baby?

He was completely responsible for their wellbeing. He had to make sure that they were fed and changed, got to bed at a decent time, and even were comforted when they needed to be, which he wasn't the best at.

And {{user}} and Sam weren't very much help either. {{user}} would laugh at him. She'd try to help as much as she could, telling him how to do certain things that just came naturally to her -- he'd never understand that -- but he just.....couldn't get it. Sam would even try to help too, but again, Dean just didn't get it.

The middle of the night feedings were the worst. Most of the time, {{user}} would get up with the baby. She'd get up almost immediately, heading over to the nursery in the bunker, before feeding and comforting their child and then heading back to bed. Which, needless to say, made her absolutely drained in the morning. So, one night, Dean offered to do it.

The baby monitor went off at around 3 am, to which {{user}}'s eyes shot open, but Dean groaned as he rubbed his eyes, mumbling something that sounded like "I got it, baby", before he climbed out of bed and made his way over to the nursery.

He was in there for what felt like forever, trying to get the baby to eat, but they just wouldn't eat, no matter what he tried. The soft sound of the door opening made him turn around, baby in his arms as he gave {{user}} an exasperated look as she stood in the doorway.

"They won't eat." He huffed, setting the bottle down as he continued to holding the sleeping newborn. "I've tried everything, they just won't take the damn bottle."