#daddy!dean

You turn to look at him and you grin. “You better get a piece now before your brother gets in here.”

“I’ll wait until it cools. Surely he’ll save me a piece.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “You’re right, I’d better get it now.”

You laugh as he walks over to grab a plate.

“Speaking of Dean, have you seen him?”

He thinks for a second. “Actually, yeah. I saw him carrying some toys out to the garage about forty minutes ago.”

“I’d better go check up on him,” you laugh before walking out of the kitchen.

You make your way down the hallways of the bunker towards the garage. The closer you get, the more you can hear the sound of your little boy’s giggles, followed by your husband’s voice. You know this routine by now. Dean tries to work on Baby in peace, but your son fusses to “help” his daddy. Dean tries to distract him with toys, but eventually gives in.

You walk into the garage, and you stop because you don’t want to ruin the fun. Instead of working on Baby, both of your boys are in Baby. Dean is sitting in the passenger seat, and your little boy is behind the wheel. You can barely see his little head over the steering wheel as he pretends to drive. You try to hold in your laughter as your husband pretends to be terrified of your son’s driving. His eyes are wide, and his right hand is gripping the door handle while his left one is digging into the seat.

“Slow down, Lee,” he says, causing your little boy to laugh. He rears his little foot back and slams it down as if he’s pressing down the gas even though he can’t reach the pedals. “I said slow… Woah!” Dean hollers out as he throws his arm over as if he’s holding your son back.

Your heart melts listening to Levi’s laughter as he turns the wheel as far to the left as he can. Dean makes the sound of tires squealing, causing your son to throw his head back as he giggles. He’s laughing so hard his little body is shaking. Once he straightens out the wheel, Dean looks over at him with wide eyes.

“You just hit that guy back there.”

Levi gets up on his little knees and turns to look out the back window. He then looks at Dean and shrugs.

“Him’s okay,” he says before turning to face the wheel again and plopping back down on his bottom.

Dean shakes his head. “No, buddy, I think you broke his leg. We should go check on him.”

“No, go fast!” Levi squeals before pretending to hit the gas again.

“No!” Dean yells as he grabs onto the door handle again.

You shake your head as you lean up against the wall and watch them. When you first found out you were pregnant, Dean panicked. He kept himself up every night for a month worrying about whether he’d be a good dad or not. If only he could have seen himself now.

“Whew,” Dean says as he brings his right hand up to his heart as if it’s racing. “I don’t think I can take much more of this, Lee. You think you could slow down a bit?”

Your son nods, and he giggles as he continues to “steer” Baby left and right. He looks over at his daddy and grins widely. Dean reaches over and puts his hand on the little dark haired head before gently turning it so he’s looking back out the front window.

“Eyes on the road, son.”

“Sorry,” Levi giggles and stares out the window. After a minute, he looks back over at Dean. He grins mischievously, and Dean shakes his head.

“Don’t you do it,” he says in a warning tone. “Don’t you dare.” Levi laughs before taking both hands off the wheel. “No!” Dean yells as he reaches over to grab the wheel. Your son laughs so hard, he falls over in his seat as Dean acts like he’s fighting for his life to keep from running off the road. “Grab the wheel!” he yells. Levi’s still cracking up as he sits up and takes the wheel. Dean looks over and points a finger at him. “Don’t ever do that again,” he says in a serious tone.

Levi knows he’s just joking, and it causes him to laugh so hard that he squeals loudly. He keeps glancing over at Dean as he “drives.” He just keeps giving your son warning glances, causing him to laugh more and more. This goes on for a few minutes before Levi lets go of the wheel again. He turns to look at Dean, and he must have a funny expression on his face.

“What’s wrong, buddy?” Dean asks. Without a word, Levi gets up on his knees and wraps his arm around your husband’s neck.

“Love you, Daddy.”

Dean smiles softly as he wraps his left arm around your little boy.

“I love you, buddy,” he tells him before pressing a kiss to the top of his little head. He tucks Levi’s head underneath his chin and holds him a bit tighter. Dean’s eyes meet yours across the room, and you smile at each other. “Hey,” he says as he pulls your son back a bit so he can see his face. “I think Momma might be waiting for us. You want to take us home?”

“Yeah!” Levi hollers before plopping down in the driver’s seat again.

“Alright,” Dean tells him. “Slow, remember?” Levi nods as if he’s taking every word in. “And watch out for pedestrians.” Your son gives him a funny look. “People,” he says. The little boy nods before gripping onto the steering wheel again. He just barely moves it from side to side for a minute, then he gives Dean a mischievous look.

“Don’t do it,” Dean warns. “Don’t you dare.”

Levi giggles and turns the wheel sharply to the right. Dean grabs onto the door handle again and pitches to the left side as if the car’s really moving.

“Slow down!” he yells.

Levi’s laughter echoes through the space again, followed by Dean making the sound of tires squealing. Levi then turns the wheel the other direction, and Dean leans to the side accordingly. You watch as your son keeps turning his head to watch your husband’s reaction. Dean lays his hand on Levi’s head and gently turns it back towards the front of Baby.

“Eyes on the road, kid.” Levi laughs even harder, and eventually takes both hands off the wheel again. “No!” Dean yells in terror as he reaches over to grab it.

“We crash!” Levi squeals.

“We better not,” Dean tells him. “I don’t have any insurance.” Levi gives him another funny look, probably wondering what insurance is. “Do you even have a driver's license?" 

Your son thinks about it for a minute before shrugging.

“Uh-huh, that’s what I thought,” Dean says. “And you’ve probably been drinking over the legal limit of apple juice too. Maybe I ought to drive us home.”

“No! I do it!” Levi says.

“Aright, but get us there safely,” Dean tells him.

You stand there and watch them “crash” about three times before Levi finally slams his foot down as if he’s hitting the brakes. He tries to make the sound of tires squealing like Dean was doing, honks the horn about three times, and then he looks over at his dad and smiles widely.

“We’re home!”

“Shew, finally. I didn’t think you knew your way back,” Dean says. Levi looks over at him and smiles.

“I scare you?”

“Are you kidding me?!” Dean says. “Look, I’m still shaking.” He holds his hand out to show Levi the dramatized tremors running through him, and your son laughs again. “You’re never driving Baby again.”

“Uh-huh,” he nods. “This my car.”

“No she’s not,” Dean says as he pulls your son over into his lap and tickles him. “You take that back!”

“NO!” Levi yells through laughter.

“You’d better, or you’re grounded for five years,” Dean teases him. “Plus you have to pay for all the damage you caused on our ride.”

“No!” he yells again.

“Yes! You ran over people. You hit cars. You’re a reckless driver!”

“No!”

Dean tickles him until they’re both out of breath.

“Okay,” he chuckles as he finally sits Levi upright in his lap. “We’d better go see where Momma’s at.”

“Mommy!” Levi yells. Dean barely has time to open up the door before your son drops to the ground and takes off running. He’s so excited to come find you, that he doesn’t even notice you standing there already and he runs right past you.

“Lee!” Dean yells to get his attention. Your son’s too far gone to hear, and Dean shakes his head as he walks over to you. “He’ll figure it out eventually.”

You laugh as you take a few steps towards him. “He’s excited to tell me all about riding Daddy around,” you tell him as you wrap your arms around Dean’s neck. He chuckles as both of his arms go around your waist.

“Kid can’t keep his eyes on the road.”

You raise your left eyebrow at him. “I wonder where he gets it from.”

“Hey, can you blame me?” he says, giving you his signature charming smile. “After all, I have a hot wife sitting in the passenger seat beside me.”

“Stop,” you laugh.

“I don’t think we have to worry about it much yet,” he says. “After all, we have thirteen years until I can’t get away with pretend drives anymore.”

You shake your head a bit. “I give it about… oh, four more years or so before he stops wanting to pretend to drive.”

“Stop!” Dean groans as he hides his face in your neck. You laugh as you bring a hand up to gently rake your fingers through his hair.

“You’re the best daddy, Dean Winchester."

He pulls back to look you in the eyes. “Even if I am raising a reckless driver?”

“Even then,” you giggle. He chuckles before leaning in to kiss you.

“We’d better go find him before he really does cause some damage somewhere.”

“Or he eats all the apple pie I made.”

Dean’s eyes widen. “Seriously?” You nod, and he kisses you once more before reaching down to take your hand in his. “Well, we’d better get in there before our little menace to society gets sugar in him.” he says before gripping your hand tightly in his and leading you back towards the kitchen.

By the time you get there, Levi’s already situated at the table with his own small piece of pie. Sam looks at you both as you walk in.

“I hope it was okay to give him some,” he says. “He said he had permission.”

“Well, he didn’t really,” you laugh. “But it’s alright.”

“Hey, Lee,” Dean says as he walks over to grab his own piece. “Did you tell Uncle Sammy what you did today?”

Your little boy looks up with wide eyes. Wide eyes that are the exact same shade of green as Dean’s. “I droved Baby, and I hit two peoples.”

“Three,” Dean argues.

“Huh-uh,” Levi shakes his head.

“Hey, I know how to count better than you do,” he says as he takes his seat at the table across from your son. “Plus he ran into at least five cars.”

“No, Daddy!” he laughs.

“Baby’s gonna need some work after today. The parts are coming out of your paycheck.”

Levi giggles as he goes in for another bite of pie.

Sam smirks. “Well, it sounds like you’re just learning from your dad.” That comment earns him whipped cream to the face. Levi laughs just as hard as he was when he was “driving”.

“Seriously?” you ask Dean as you give him a look. “With our son sitting right there?”

“Hey, he was asking for it,” he mumbles.

After the pie has been eaten, baths have been taken, and teeth have been brushed, you tuck Levi into his toddler bed. You know what’s going to happen. He’ll end up in bed with you and Dean at some point. But he likes to be tucked into his own bed to begin with because it makes him feel like a big boy.

“Sleep tight, sweetie,” you tell him as you lean over to kiss his forehead. He hugs your neck tightly and hangs on a minute before letting go.

“Holler if you need us, kiddo,” Dean tells him as he also leans down for a hug. “And don’t be driving in your dreams. I can’t afford any more hospital bills.” Levi giggles again as Dean stands up.

But instead of Levi just letting Dean walk over to where you’re at, he quickly sits up in bed and holds his arms back out.

“Daddy!”

Dean turns back around, and his heart melts when he sees your son reaching for him again. He walks back over and scoops him up into his arms. You watch as a tired, but content smile spreads across Levi’s face as he rests his head on Dean’s shoulder.

“Love you,” he says softly.

“Oh, I love you too, little buddy,” Dean whispers before pressing a kiss to the top of your son’s head. It isn’t long until Levi drifts off in his daddy’s arms. Dean carefully leans back over to lay him down, and he tucks him in again. “Goodnight, Daddy’s little reckless driver,” he says before turning to walk over to you.

He wraps an arm around your waist to lead you back to bed, but he stops at the door and looks over his shoulder one more time at your sleeping boy.

“He’s so little, (Y/N),” he says softly.

“I know,” you whisper back.

He looks at you and smiles softly. “I want to give him the childhood I never had.”

“You’re doing a fantastic job at making sure that happens, Dean,” you assure him. “You could have just spent the day working on Baby like you planned.”

He shakes his head. “As soon as those big eyes looked up at me and said ‘I drive?’, it was over.”

You laugh softly as you lay your head over onto his shoulder. “Well, you’re the best there is. Dad and husband. And I don’t say that lightly. I mean that.”

He looks at you for a minute before smiling widely. “I know you do, sweetheart. Thank you for saying that.” You nod, and he leans in for one more kiss. “We should go on to bed ourselves. We only have about an hour before he wakes up and joins us.”

“Then what are we waiting on?”

Dean chuckles before leading you out into the hallway. He shuts the door a bit, but not before peeping in one more time to check on your reckless driver.

You were torn between moving toward him and staying where you were with Grace’s hand in yours. The call from Sam that there’s been a car accident had terrified both you and Dean, but you couldn’t imagine how much worse it had been for him.

You’d known Grace and Dean for a little over ten years after being her assistant teacher in preschool. Dean was a newly single dad back then and you’d become fast friends. A few years later Grace had played match maker calling you saying something happened to her dad and you needed to come to the house. You arrived to the house just as Dean got home from work what you’d found inside had made the two of you realize some things.

Grace had managed to prepare a fancy dinner and it had led to you and Dean having to sit down and discuss your relationship – the truth was you and Dean had been friends for so many years you couldn’t picture yourself with anyone else.

Now that Grace was nearing 15 Dean had given her a little freedom and she’d gotten hurt, Dean blamed himself as did Sam because he was the one driving her home. Someone had slipped something into her drink at the party she’d been less than truthful about. When she realized she was feeling dizzy she’d called Sam to take her home.

They had been hit by a drunk driver and you and Dean had been sitting with Grace and Sam at the hospital for the past three days.

When Grace did fully wake the doctor had ordered her taken off for some more scans.

The next morning as she was finally allowed to eat a full meal, she sat crisscross applesauce on the bed slowly eating the oatmeal she’d settled on.

“I promise that if you can hold that down I’ll make sure you get something good tonight,” you told her. “When you get home, I’ll make you some chicken and dumpling soup.”

“That will be amazing,” she grinned at you. “When will Dad be back?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged honestly. “I think he probably fell asleep in Sammy’s room, he has one of the older rooms that holds two patients but he’s the only one in the room so we’ve all taken turns napping in the spare bed.”

“Oh, so he’s in the building?”

“Yes, sweetie he hasn’t left. I’ve only left to grab clothes or snacks for him or Eileen.”

She offered you a soft smile but kept quiet as a nurse stepped in the room.

“I have your results of that last scan,” she explained, “I just want to check in with you since you’ve gotten some food in your belly,” she went on. “Hey mom can I have you move over there so I can get to the machine behind you?”

You stood up and moved, unsure if you were supposed to deny being her mom or not.

“Y/N?” Grace asked, “Can you get my Dad?”

“I texted him,” you smiled as you tucked your phone away.

“Oh, you’re not her mom?” the nurse asked.

“No, not biologically at least.”

“She’s my mom though,” Grace answered, “I just didn’t come from her.”

“That’s such a lovely way of explaining it,” the nurse grinned. “The doc will be in soon to go over your last two tests,” she explained and started asking Grace questions about how she was feeling.

You thought back to a day many years ago when you’d just happened to stop by Dean’s house to check in and Grace had been setting up a table with some papers laid out on top of it. 

“What are you doing?” you’d asked.

“I’m mad at my Dad so I’m holding auditions. I need someone cooler to pretend to be my dad,” then she’d stage whispered, “I’m thinking I’ll ask Uncle Bobby to be my fake dad and you can be my mom.”

It was little moments that you and her had shared that drew you together and it had been one of your favorite memories. Now you sat there as her mom thinking how lucky you were to be a part of Grace and Dean’s life.

Dean rushed into the room just as the doc arrived and you were told she could go home the next day – they just wanted to keep her one more night for observation because of a little swelling they were worried over.

Once the doctor left, you’d reminded them about Grace’s auditions for new family members; Dean and Grace had laughed with you at the memory.

“Oh, that was so funny,” Dean wiped his eyes, “Do you remember why you were mad at me?”

“Yeah, because you told me I couldn’t go live with Y/N and I’d heard auditions were how you hired people in Hollywood, so I thought I could just hire someone else to be my parents and then I could get whatever I wanted because they’d work for me,” Grace admitted, sending you all into another fit of laughter.

“Well,” Dean grinned wrapping an arm around your shoulders, “I guess your auditions halfway worked because you did get her as your mom,” he swallowed hard, “Right?”

You smiled thinking it was an odd way of putting things but the way Grace brought her hands up to her mouth and looked as though she might burst had you pausing to turn toward Dean who was shifting slightly away from you.

“I know this isn’t the most romantic place, and well I’m not real great at being a sappy guy but if there’s anything this week has taught me it’s that I can’t wait for the right moment to come up,” he said and your mind spun.

‘Is this real?!’ your brain shouted.

Dean stood there holding a little black velvet box, “I’m not the richest man in the world, but I feel like it when you’re around so will you make it official and be my wife?” he asked.

“You’re supposed to get on one knee,” Grace stage whispered from the hospital bed.

“You know my knee can’t do that,” he hissed back.

You laughed, “Yes Dean. My answer is yes,” you paused, “As long as Grace is good with it?” you glanced at her.

She nodded happily as a tear slipped down her cheek, “Hells yeah.”

Dean shot her an ‘I told you to stop saying that,’ look and then smiled widely at you as he fully realized that the chance he just took had paid off.

He put the ring on your finger just as Eileen pushed Sam through the doorway.

“You finally, did it?” he asked with a smirk.

“You knew about this?” you asked.

“I helped him pick the ring out, but he kept waiting for the “perfect moment,” which I told him wasn’t gonna come so he needed to just go for it.”

“Shut up bitch,” Dean glared.

“Whatever, congrats jerk,” Sam beamed, the moment of joy distracting him from his injuries momentarily.

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You yawn and rub your tired eyes. “Still asleep. Don’t ask too many questions this morning.”

“Not so loud,” Dean whispers to you. “We don’t want them to wake up. I need coffee and breakfast first. Dean Jr. kept me from getting my five hours of sleep.”

“How?” Sam asks. “What did he want to know this time?”

“DADDY!” you watch your ten-year-old son storm toward his father. “You won’t get away with this!”

Dean Jr. wields his fake katana in front of him while glaring at his father.

“What’s wrong with you buddy? Last night you wouldn’t let me sleep, and now you threaten your father?” Dean yelps as his son pokes his side with the fake sword. “Dean Jr. explain yourself.”

“You hurt mommy last night,” your son sniffs. “Sofia Rose heard it too. You’re lucky she’s still asleep. I won’t let you hurt Mommy again!"

“Hurt mommy…” Dean frowns at his son’s words. “Buddy, I would never hurt your mommy. She would break my neck if I put my hands on her the wrong way.”

You laugh at Dean’s pained expression. “Dean Jr.,” you softly say, “I swear Daddy didn’t hurt me. Why do you think he hurt me, Dean Jr.?”

“You screamed last night,” your son mumbles. “Sofia Rose woke me up, and I heard you screaming. You said don’t stop, but you sound like you are in pain…I wanted to help you, but the door was locked.”

“I…screamed,” you nervously chuckle. “Oh…oh…” you feel heat creep into your cheeks as you realize that your son must’ve heard you and Dean last night. “OH!!!”

“Sonofabitch!” Dean curses under his breath. “Son, I did not hurt your mother.” Dean crouches down next to his son and places his hand on your son’s shoulder. “Do you remember that one time you came home from school, and we talked about bees and flowers?”

“I still don’t like girls,” your son scrunches up his nose. “They smell odd…like flowers. That new girl always tries to kiss my cheek.”

“You see, I like girls,” Dean whispers. “Especially your mommy. If I like her very much, Mommy gets loud."

Your son furrows his brows. He looks from Dean to you and back at his father. You can almost see the wheels in his head spinning as his eyes widen in shock.

“GROSS Dad! You can’t do this with Mommy!”

“Buddy, Mommy, and I are married, and we love each other. Sometimes we want to show each other how much,” Dean calms his son.

“No. You won’t do that again with Mommy,” your son declares. “I’ll make sure of it.”

Dean Jr. storms off. He mutters under his breath, calling his father's actions gross.

“Dean, he means well.”

“He can’t just tell us to never have sex again,” your husband grumbles. “That’s it, we need to leave."

You chuckle.

"I mean it, sweetheart," Dean says. “I won’t keep my hands to myself.”

“Maybe you should invest in wall acoustic panels,” Sam says. “It will help with the…noises.” He grins from ear to ear. “I heard you too, you know…”

“If you want to forbid me to have sex with my wife too, you are dead,” Dean warns. “No one gets between me and my wife…”

“Dean?” you yawned, padding into the kitchen close to midnight. He was sat at the kitchen table, taping a pencil against a notebook, resting his head against his hand. “What are you doing?”

“Homework,” he said, your head peeking over his shoulder. 

“Amber’s?” you asked, Dean nodding. “Why are you doing our fifth grader’s homework in the middle of the night again?”

“She asked me to help,” said Dean, putting down the pencil and rubbing his eyes. “But I don’t know half this crap. I was shit in school.”

“So what if you didn’t get straight A’s. You’re the smartest person I’ve ever met,” you said.

“Then why can’t I figure out a fifth grader’s math homework?” he groaned, plopping his head on the table. “I’m stupid.”

“No you are not,” you said, grabbing his shoulders, forcing him to sit up and turn to face you. “You’re tired after work all day and cooking dinner and playing with the kids. We can look at this in the morning. Now come to bed.”

“Not yet,” he murmured, going back to the sheets of paper until you caught his wrists. “I have a GED but I can handle math for ten year olds. I can’t be a complete idiot.”

“You’re getting that cute ass in bed and getting a cuddle session, Dean,” you said, pulling him out of the chair, Dean closing his eyes. “No excuses. No being mean to yourself either.”

“Fine. But I’m gonna figure it out in the morning.”

“Dean,” you said, sipping on a cup of coffee as he came into the kitchen, still another half hour before the kids were supposed to be up. “I think I figured it out.”

“I bet it’s something super simple and I screwed it up,” he said, stealing your cup and taking a gulp. You smiled and slid the paper over, pointing to the top of the page. “Calculus?”

“Mr. Johnson teaches at the high school too, right? I got a feeling that considering this says grade 12 calculus up here, he accidentally handed out the wrong homework to the wrong grades,” you said. 

“Oh,” said Dean, holding up the paper, tilting his head. “Oh. Derivatives.” 

“What?” you asked, Dean picking up a pencil and writing something down, typing out on the calculator and then writing down a number.

“Now it makes sense,” he said, giving you a smile as he took another sip. “Want pancakes?”

“Sure. I didn’t know you knew Calculus,” you said.

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t take it in school but Sammy was an honors kid and he needed help with homework sometimes so I learned,” he said.

“So the guy that was calling himself stupid last night can recall how to do self-taught calculus off the top of his head like that?” you asked with a smirk.

“Shut up,” he said, a light flush on his cheeks.

“Told ya you’re smart,” you said, Dean standing up and ruffling your hair. “You so owe me chocolate chip pancakes for that.”

“Alright, alright. Only because you’re adorable though,” he said. You leaned up to give him a kiss, a tiny giggle down the hall that made you both pause. “I think the toddler’s up.”

“You handle breakfast. I got the rugrats,” you said, Dean planting a fast kiss on you as you got to your feet. “Love you, smartie pants.”