Work Text:
Dean bounced around the room with his daughter in his arms, staring at her with adoration.
“Look at you,” he whispered to the little baby. “With your ten perfect little fingers, and your ten perfect little toes…”
He was feeling somehow drunk and high. He could go to the rooftops and scream out loud of his child to the whole world to hear about.
Dean honestly thought during your whole pregnancy he would be like those crazy TV fathers, who had no idea of what to do to a baby, but he was just natural: He knew how to hold her – a bit shaky, but he did – and learnt pretty quickly with the nurse when he explained how to clean her.
“You are gonna be legendary,” he whispered. “And you’re already so beautiful. Well, you may have a smashed nose and may look too red in comparison to what I first thought you would look like, but considering you just passed through my favourite playground less a few hours ago, and it was pretty tight… I can see why you look a bit squeezed.”
Sam laughed while entering the room, surprising his brother.
“Having a nice talk?” the taller Winchester whispered.
“Look at her, Sammy,” Dean’s eyes twinkled. “She’s gorgeous, she looks so perfect.”
Sam smiled at his niece.
“I think she looks like you,” he affirmed, then frowned. “I mean, from perspective. Like, your… You know? She looks like she’s your daughter.”
The older brother smiled, looking back at his baby.
“Is Y/N awake yet?”
“No,” he shook his head. “She’s resting. Those were… Long hours.”
“A long night.” He agreed.
“Longest one in my life,” the new father smirked, looking over the window in time to see the sun appearing in the sky.
Sam left after some minutes, and Dean sat by your side with the baby girl still in his arms.
“Dean?” you yawned, turning to look at him with a sleepy look on your face.
“Hello,” he smiled and looked at your daughter. “Look who is awake, little one. It’s mama.”
You smiled, and he soon placed the kid on your chest.
“She looks so much like you,” you whispered.
With the sound of her mother’s voice, the baby’s eyes opened, and you two were startled while looking at her.
She had huge, bright and clear green eyes; a lighter version of Dean’s eyes.
“Look at her,” he whispered. “Sapphire.”
With the mention of her name, the girl moved uncomfortably.
“What’s it, little one?” you frowned. “Do you dislike your name?”
Dean frowned, his hand caressing her little palm.
“We don’t want that. The name will stick with her forever,” he pointed. “But how can we name her?”
You chuckled.
“Maybe Dean Junior,” you suggested. “She’s all you.”
Dean laughed from the back of his throat, the sound catching his daughter’s eyes.
“Oh, I think she likes Dean Junior,” he joked. “Maybe… Denna? No.” He frowned. “Dean is too boyish. “
“What about Deanna?” you suggested. “Deanna Winchester.”
In response, the little girl grabbed your finger, squeezing it as tightly as her baby fist could.
“Oh, I think you liked it,” you decided. “Nice to meet you, Deanna Winchester.”