**Warning: unadulterated fluff ahead.

xxxxx

Dean is on a case with Garth, who is a weird motherfucker, but he grows on a person. It was a rugaru, and Dean fucking hates rugarus, and not just because of his own history with them. He knows there are no known cases of a rugaru resisting the urge to eat humans forever, but god dammit, if he could just get to one and explain before they get to that point. They just… Never get to it by then.

This one was already gone, a horrific monster by the time they showed up. They torched it in an old warehouse, then watched the building burn just to be safe. Dean couldn't even tell if the monster started out as a man or a woman.

Garth, at least, is the kind of guy you want on a hunt like this. His laid-back, roll with the punches attitude nicely complements Dean's own pissy outlook. Garth doesn't really let things like this bother him, at least as far as Dean can tell. It's.. Amazing.

Dean just hates this. He's only here because there was no one else in the area, angel or hunter, and a rugaru isn't the kind of hunt you just send a guy into alone. Dean hates being away from Y/N and Kaylie, though. He misses his girls.

Dean sighs and pulls the Impala into a parking space in front of the motel. He's tired, and covered in soot, and as much as he likes Garth, holy fuck is Dean ready to call home and talk to Y/N before he crashes for about six hours.

"Well, good work, buddy!" Garth says cheerfully, and Dean resists the urge to roll his eyes. He's a respected hunter, he's a respected hunter, he's a respected hunter.

"Yeah, man, good job back there." Garth really did do well, so Dean's not even saying that begrudgingly. Garth's smart, and quick on his feet. While Dean doesn't think he was ever in any actual danger, if he had been, Garth's not a bad guy to have covering your back.

Garth gets out of Baby and walks around to give Dean a hug just as he gets out of his own side. Dean accepts it and hugs back hard, clapping Garth on the back, saying with actions what he's too wrung out and irritated to say with words.

Garth gives him a jaunty little wave when he goes into his own room, and Dean turns to lean on Baby and look out into the parking lot, just wanting to reflect, wanting to soak in the quiet for a moment.

He doesn't get far into his quiet contemplation before small, black shape darts under the Impala in his peripherals.

Dean doesn't react much outwardly, just a tightening of the eyes (and damn the crow's feet he's getting there, even if Y/N does love them). He slowly, carefully pulls his gun from his waistband, and slowly, carefully kneels to look beneath the car.

Tiny, terrified hazel eyes greet his own gaze. Dean blinks, and a high-pitched whimper meets his ears in response.

"A puppy?"

Dean examines the little creature. It's tiny, no bigger than his hand. It's skinny as hell, with none of the happy plumpness puppies usually have on them. It's also pretty obviously terrified, literally shaking as he looks at it. Dean feels a pang go through him.

He's come across no shortage of stray dogs in his time as a hunter. He's never really been a dog guy, though, not like Sam, so he's usually content to just leave them where they are. Sam's the one who's always catching them and taking them to shelters or rescues.

This is just another thing that Y/N has changed about him. Because, as tired and grimy as Dean is, there is no damn way he's leaving this puppy under this car, probably to die in the next couple of days if it doesn't get help.

He puts the gun back, keeping his movements slow and easy. The tiny puppy tracks every movement with frightened eyes. When he has both hands free, he carefully moves so he's sitting cross-legged next to the Impala, then looks up toward the sunset. The only concession he makes to the puppy is to lay his hand flat next to him, palm up on the gravel.

This is something that Y/N has taught him about timid dogs. Not that Winchester is timid by any means, Winch has never met a stranger, but they've come across some less social dogs in dog parks that they've gone to as a family (and if the word family in relation to he, Y/N, and Kaylie makes his heart tighten painfully in his chest, no one needs to know but Dean).

xxxxx

"Don't make eye contact with him," Y/N coaches him carefully.

"What?"

"It's a sign of being confrontational for a dog," she explains, both of them looking up and away from the little border collie who's cowering near them. "He'll come to us when he's ready."

When, ten minutes later, the dog crawls into Dean's lap and licks at the underside of his chin in a desperate bid for comfort, Dean so shocked he just cradles the dog to his chest.

xxxxx

It takes longer than ten minutes this time, but he does, closer to the twenty minute mark when his knees start to ache, feel a cold little puppy nose press against the pad of his thumb. It only takes a few minutes after that before the puppy is licking at his palm, and when he turns to look at it, he sees it's bony little tail wagging.

He gently, moving oh, so carefully, lifts the puppy against his chest. It immediately goes friggin' crazy, licking his neck and chin, making it hard to keep a hold of it.

"All right, all right," he says gruffly, giving it the stink-eye to keep it from totally taking over his heart, because he's a man, god dammit, Dean fishes out his cell phone. "Let's see what your new mama has to say."

xxxxx

"Oh, my God," you breathe when Dean gets out of the Impala the next day, your hands covering your mouth. "It's so small."

He smiles, and something about the picture of him, framed by the sunrise, holding a tiny black puppy, just melts your heart. "Yeah, I dunno what's wrong with it. I think it's just starving."

Well, you're already gone, totally head over heels for it as Dean hands the puppy over to you. It squirms and licks your face, but really only has eyes for Dean. That's all right, because you've only ever really had eyes for him, too, so you get it.

"Let's get you checked out, little one," you coo. You look up at Dean and smile. "Go get some sleep, handsome. I've already got an appointment with the vet."

Dean looks down, sheepish, and rubs the back of his neck. "Uh, yeah, I just… You know, I just figured… That I might… Uh… Go with you?"

You smile at him, the love of your damn life, blushing because he wants to go with you to make sure the puppy is okay.

"Of course, handsome."

xxxxx

An hour later, you're armed with a diagnosis ("Just skinny, make sure you're feeding puppy food."), a first round of puppy shots, a spay appointment ("Obviously we're getting her spayed, Dean." "Whatever you say, princess."), and one puppy who's fast asleep in Dean's lap as he drives, one big hand almost completely covering her little body.

Dean was a wreck during the appointment, as much as he tried to hide it from you. He was anxious right up until the doctor came out to tell the two of you that the puppy is fine, just malnourished, and will be perfectly healthy once she gains some weight. Dean's face lit up, just for a moment. It was a sight to behold, and you felt yourself drowning in love, just for a moment.

"Have you thought about what to name her?" you ask softly, your hand on his knee, the one not currently occupied by a sleeping pooch.

"Uh… No," he says, too quickly for you to believe him.

"Okay, no rush," you say with a smile. He'll tell you when he's ready.

xxxxx

As suspected, the puppy is a hit.

Winch loves puppies, and spends most of his days on his belly now, down on her level to play with her. She's full of spunk now that she's feeling better, and some gentle training has turned her into quite the social butterfly. Kaylie adores her, and the three of them are thick as thieves. You've gone looking for them more than once and found the three of them deeply asleep in Kaylie's bed, all piled on top of each other.

You tear up every time, your heart is so full.

Even Bobby likes the pup, sneaking her the occasional scrap of food when he thinks you can't see him, or giving her ear scritches when he thinks the two of them are alone.

But she really, really adores Dean. When he enters a room that she's in, she immediately drops whatever she's doing and follows him out, until he catches her and picks her up. The first few times, he tried to put her back into the room she'd been in, but he's gotten into the habit of just carrying her with him. He says it's only until she's old enough to understand that she can't follow him everywhere, but you suspect that it's just until she's big enough to walk with him on her own.

As far as you can tell, she's some sort of pit bull mix. She's got the big, square head, and her paws are going to be the size of dinner plates soon. She won't quite rival Winch in weight at fully grown, but you think she's going to be close, just in pure muscle mass.

You adore her, and she's the perfect addition to the family.

xxxxx

You don't find out the puppy's name until another addition to the family, albeit a temporary one.

Brian is a quiet boy, seven years old, whose mother was killed by a vengeful spirit. Sam has found his father, explained the situation delicately, and (after some ridiculously in-depth investigating into the guy's background) he's on his way to come get Brian. Sam said he sounded like he'd be there the day after the call, come hell or high water.

As great as Winch is with kids, they sometimes get nervous at his giant size. The puppy totally obliterates that. Everyone loves the puppy, and Brian is no exception, he's on his knees and playing with her immediately. He looks up, the first smile you've seen on his face, at Dean. "She's so cute!"

Dean's leaning in the doorway, smirking. "Yeah, she's all right."

"What's her name?"

Dean's eyes flick to you, and the blush on his cheeks is almost unbearably endearing. "Mary," he says softly, after a moment. "Her name is Mary."

You aggressively tamp down the tears in your eyes and send him a soft smile.

Kaylie takes the news in stride. "Come on, Brian! Let's take Mary and Winch outside!" She turns to barrel toward you, and you barely get out of the way in time. "Sorry!" she shouts behind her as she leads the stampede.

You just smile and sigh. "Careful, kids!"

xxxxx

Later, in bed, you press a soft kiss to Dean's lips. Winch is laid along your back, pressed against you, a solid line of warmth. Mary is tucked up at the small of Dean's back, her head resting on his hip.

"It's perfect," you whisper.

You don't have to clarify, he knows what you're talking about. He buries his head in your neck, and you fall asleep cradling one another.

xxxxx

**I thought we all deserved a timestamp, yeah?
**I just can't with you perfect people.