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Summary
Dean always knew what he needed before he’d even ask for it. A bottle of juice, a quick change, a snack--he was always there. He was just about the best thing Sam could’ve asked for. Then again, he’d had decades of practice. He never failed to make Sam feel warm and safe. Cared for.
Which was beyond really nice. This was more than he could have ever hoped to hold onto, really. But when he was halfway through a Disney movie he’d never seen before, lazily suckling a bottle and yawning every few minutes, the very last word he wanted to hear was--
“Bedtime.”