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"Hey Jude, don't make it bad ..." The deep, soothing voice of your husband floated down the hall, drawing you towards your son's room with eyes half closed and feet shuffling sluggishly. "Take a sad song, and make it better ..." You didn't care that it was the middle of the night, or that Dean had managed to wake you up in his attempt to let you keep sleeping, because the second you laid eyes on your baby boy, head resting on his father's shoulder and eyes fluttering shut, your whole world narrowed to just this moment. "Remember, to let her under your skin, then you'll begin to make it better ..." A smile tugged at your lips as you leaned against the doorframe, just out of sight but close enough to watch the scene unfolding in front of you. The soft cooing from your son made your heart melt, and the way Dean held him, close to his chest like he was the most precious person in the world, made it almost impossible to keep your distance. But you wanted to watch, just a moment longer. Because quiet moments like this didn't happen often for hunters. "Okay, if I put you down, you gonna be a man about it?" Dean said softly, placing a quick kiss on his son's head and gently lowering him into the crib. He waited for a moment in silence, not daring to move lest he wake the baby, and then smiled. "That's my boy," he whispered. "I knew you were tough, just like your mom." That was your cue, you thought, stepping into the room. "Wow, high praise." Dean turned to you with a start, but silently held his hand out and pulled you against his chest, strong arms wrapping around your waist. "What are you doing up?" he whispered, breath ghosting across your ear. His chest rumbled against you back as he spoke and you leaned into it, savoring his warmth. "I heard you singing." "Oh, sorry." His arms tightened around your waist. "I didn't mean to wake you." "You should sing more often," you said, shaking your head in dismissal. You elbowed him playfully in the ribs. "You should sing for me." Dean let out a soft chuckle. "Noted." And there you stood, wrapped up in the man you loved and watching the subtle rise and fall of your son's little chest as he slept. The was nowhere else you'd rather be. "He's so perfect," you whispered, voice barely loud enough to be heard. Dean pulled a piece of hair over your shoulder, giving him access to your neck and placing a soft kiss on your skin. "You both are."
