Epilogue

Three AM feeding, right on the dot. "He's a better alarm clock than my phone," Dean mutters as he stumbles out of bed. Castiel continues snoring right into his pillow, covers pulled up nearly over his head.

Dean closes the bedroom door behind him, and turns down the hall toward the nursery. "It's too early," Dean says as he picks the baby up. After a couple of weeks he has this routine down to an art. Heat the bottle in hot water. Change the diaper. Remember to put clothes back on the baby. (Apparently that's important when it's cold out.)

While the bottle heats, Dean paces and rocks the baby to keep him calm. Castiel can usually sing him down, but his singing could calm a bear - low and deep hymns in a language Dean doesn't know.

"Hey there, Jim, let's be cool about this." When James wails harder, Dean forces himself to keep his voice calm. At first he freaked out when the baby freaked out, and it didn't take long to realize that wouldn't work.

"Are you not a Jim? Kirk would be appalled. Are you going to be one those super serious kids who always goes by James?" The chatting seems to sooth the baby, and the bottle is so close to being ready. "You can go by Jimmy if you want, but your daddy will find it a little uncomfortable. Fair warning. As long as you never seriously ask to go by Jimbo, we'll be alright."

With the bottle ready, Dean heads out into the living room and settles in the recliner. It's an old leather thing from Bobby's house, but it's comfortable and rocks well. James settles immediately once he's got a bottle in his mouth, and Dean smiles.

"Someday, your daddy and I will have all sorts of stories to tell you - when you're grown and ready for them. Not a second too early, because you deserve a childhood. I order you to have a childhood, do you understand?"

James slurps his bottle and stares at Dean with sleepy eyes.

"In fact, maybe never. Maybe you'll never need to know. Though I suppose someday you're going to want to know how you got stuck with Inias as a middle name."

Once the bottle is done, he shifts James to burp him, carefully patting his back as he rocks the chair. This is good. This is tiring and hard, and maybe it a poignant reminder when Sam wasn't much older than James, but it's good.

"Someday, though, we'll definitely tell you about the people who matter. Maybe you don't need the details, but you ought to know who the Novaks are to you - maybe someday you'll meet Claire, who your daddy loves nearly as much as he loves you. You'll get to hear about your grandparents. When I was little, my mom used to sing to me and Uncle Sammy before bed. It's been thirty years, but I can still hear her voice."

Castiel's snores fill the apartment like a metronome.

Dean hums a lullaby.