“Dean, fancy a trip to Grantsburg?” Sam asked as he walked into the Bunker’s kitchen.
“Grantsburg? Why the hell...holy shit, Garth and Bess?” Dean looked up from his breakfast bacon pile in surprise.
“Yeah, it’s a boy; Garth just called, and he’s so excited, Dean.”
“That’s great, now we just need to find a congratulations on the birth of your pup card.”
“Dean...” Sam started to rebuke him.
“Okay, okay, no more dog jokes. I am pleased for them,” Dean sighed.
“You don’t exactly sound it,”
“I just worry about Garth, and I’m pretty damn certain the pup – the kid – will have a hard life,”
“I dunno, the pack seem to live a good life, especially since you killed the rabid mom.”
“Now who’s making dog-jokes?” Dean grinned.
“So, shall we make the trip?” Sam ignored Dean’s remark.
“Sure, just let me check that our rabies shots are up to date.” Dean replied.
“Aw, c’mon, Sammy. That was a little bit funny!”
“No, not really. But I guess you’d better get all the bad jokes out of the way before we get there.”
“Well, I can try.”
Later that day they set off for Grantsburg, deciding to check into a motel for the night and head out for Garth’s in the morning.
“So we are on our way to visit a werewolf friend who’s just had his first p...kid,” Dean said about an hour into their journey. “Weird lives, man.”
“Yeah, I never would’ve thought Garth would end up as a were,” Sam agreed.
“Or married,” Dean sniggered.
“That’s just mean.” Sam tried not to smile.
“Naw, he’s a great guy. I’m real happy for him and Beth. They’re gonna make great parents.”
“The little guy’s lucky to have them.”
“Yeah...” Dean bit back a wistful sigh. “Hope they all live long and happy lives.”
“I hope so, too.”
“And you’re sure it’s not a full moon tomorrow?”
“Dean, you know full well when the full moon is.”
“Nothin’ wrong with checking.”
Over dinner at the restaurant next to the motel – house special cheeseburger with dill pickles, fries and onion rings for Dean, and chicken club salad for Sam – they continued to discuss Garth’s strange life.
“I just called Garth, he was so happy, I could practically hear him waggin’ his tail,” Dean said as Sam returned from the restroom.
Sam gave him a suitably cutting eye roll. “Werewolves don’t have tails.”
“Garth was a puppy long before he was a werewolf,” Dean grinned.
“Yeah, he’s a sweet guy, he didn’t deserve what happened to him.”
“There’s nothing worse for a hunter than to become a...well, a monster,” Dean said, “I mean, look at Gordon. He was worse than the vamps he hunted.”
“Gordon was unstable before he was turned,” Sam replied.
“True, and Garth’s always been a stand-up guy, so...” Dean shrugged. “I remember him telling me that it all looked nuts, but he’d found love and a family, and he didn’t much care where that came from.”
“And we know that there are good monsters as well as bad. Nothing’s black and white.”
“Somehow things were easier when it was black and white. I don’t like all the shades of grey.”
“But you did like the movie,” Sam grinned.
“And you liked the books,” Dean retorted.
Sam’s smile became a frown. “It’s kinda a miracle we’re still here; I mean, there have been times when we’ve been the monsters,”
“Yeah,” Dean sighed, “an’ it wasn’t just Gordon after you, or angry little Cole after me. Our cards were marked, Sammy. Gotta say, all that crap made me feel more for monsters.”
“Which wasn’t a bad thing. I think our experiences have made us better hunters.”
“Or just more freakin’ confused hunters,” Dean grumbled.
“D’you want pie?”
“Is my Baby black?”
“Get it to go, I wanna stretch out on the oh-so-comfy motel bed.”
“The beds have Magic Fingers, Sammy, I can’t think of much better’n pie and Magic Fingers.”
“You are seriously weird,”
“But ya love me!”
They drove up to the neat white farmhouse, everything was well-kept and looked so normal. It was hard to believe a family of werewolves lived there.
“Dean! Sam!” Garth jumped down the front steps to greet them, hugging first Sam and then Dean.
“Good to see you, Garth,” Dean managed to say around the bear hug; Garth was surprisingly strong for such a small, weedy guy. And not just since he became a werewolf.
“I can’t believe you came!” Garth grinned as he moved away from them. “C’mon in, Beth’s dying to show off our new cub.”
“Cub?” Dean mouthed at Sam behind Garth’s back.
“Behave,” Sam mouthed back.
“Dean, Sam, I’d like you to meet James Samuel Dean Myers-Fitzgerald,” Garth announced.
“Well, his name’s even bigger than he is!” Dean smiled. “And, um, thanks.”
“It’s really something that you named him after us,” Sam added.
“Well, Beth chose her daddy’s name and then we agreed on yours, too. We wouldn’t be together if it wasn’t for you.”
“Hello there, Sam, Dean,” Beth greeted them as she walked into the kitchen. “It’s so good of you to come. I’ll brew up some coffee and I have pie...”
“Pie!” Dean exclaimed and Sam thought he’d be wagging a tail if he had one.
“Here,” Garth lifted James out of his crib and handed him to Dean.
The baby’s tiny face scrunched up as he sneezed. Dean couldn’t help but smile. And he couldn’t help finding it hard to think that this baby would grow to be a wolf. A monster. But right now, he was just a new baby, so small and delicate Dean was afraid his calloused hunter hands would harm him.
“You’re a natural with babies, Dean,” Beth smiled. “Look, he’s falling asleep.”
Dean gazed down at the tiny baby in his arms and saw him yawning. “He’s a real cute little dude.”
“D’you want me to put him down?” Garth asked.
“Um, not yet.” Dean smiled ruefully. “It’s kinda nice holding him.”
The smile Garth beamed at Dean was so wide it was in danger of splitting his head open.
They moved through to the lounge and Dean carefully sat on the couch, so as not to disturb little James, and rested him against his chest, cradled by his left arm as he needed his right one for pie-eating purposes.
“You have experience with babies, then?” Beth asked Dean.
“Kinda. There was a shifter baby we had to take care of for a few days, it was a real learning curve,” Dean smiled. “And Sam left it all to me.” Dean thought of another baby he’d taken care of, a relative of Lisa’s, but he’d vowed to never say her name again. And of course, he’d cared for baby Sam, but that was so many years ago.
“Hey, the kid cried every time I came near it!” Sam protested.
“Bobby John sensed your fear,” Dean retorted.
“Bobby John?” Garth asked.
“Yeah, we had to call the kid something,” Dean shrugged.
“So, how are things? Are you alright here?” Sam asked, not wanting to actually ask if the locals suspected the Myers and Fitzgeralds were anything other than human.
“We’re just fine, thanks Sam,” Garth replied. “We keep a low profile, but we go to church on Sundays and we’re polite with the townsfolk. No one suspects a thing and we’ll keep it that way.”
“That’s great,” Sam replied.
Little James started to snore, and it sounded for all the world like tiny growls. “Aw, he’s growling in his sleep!” Dean grinned, looking up from the baby to his proud parents.
“He’s so beautiful, isn’t he?” Beth asked.
“He really is,” Dean smiled at her. “Congratulations to you both, you’re gonna make great parents.”
“Damn, Dean,” Garth wiped at his teary eyes, “I expected you to make wisecracks about him waggin’ his tail or something, I didn’t expect you to be so...so...”
“Motherly?” Sam offered and Dean scowled at him as Garth and Beth laughed.
“Naw, I got all the bad jokes outta my system in the car,” Dean admitted.
“It’s true, he did,” Sam winced at the memory.
“An’ now I’ve met the little dude, I’d never make fun of him, or you two,” Dean grinned, adding “well, perhaps Garth, a little bit here and there…”
Garth grinned back, “Well, it’s great that you like him so much, because we want to ask you something.”
“Sure, whatever you need.”
“We’d like you to be James’ human godfather,” Beth replied.
“What? Me?” Dean spluttered.
“Just to be clear, you’re a great guy, Dean, but we’d never expect you to take over raising James if anything happened to us, the pack’ll do that." Garth explained, "but we’d like to know that you have his back as he grows, and can protect him from hunters, should need arise.”
“Wow, just…wow.” Dean gazed down at James and smiled up at Garth and Beth. “I’d be honoured.”
THREE YEARS LATER
“Faster, Unca Dean, faster!” James cried out in glee as Dean ran around Garth’s backyard with him on his broad shoulders.
“That’s enough now, sprout,” Garth called over, “Uncle Dean needs a rest.”
“C’mon, down ya get, lemme have a drink then I’ll let you drive the Impala,” Dean said as he moved James down to rest against his hip.
“Yay! ‘Pala, ‘pala!” James squealed.
“You’ve done it now, Dean,” Sam laughed.
“No worries,” Dean tucked James under one arm and grabbed a beer with his free hand.
Sam and Garth followed them through to the front of the house, where James sat on Dean’s lap ‘driving’ the Impala, making brumm, brumm noises as Dean swigged his beer.
“Making him my boy’s godfather was the best thing I ever did,” Garth smiled as he watched them.
“It’s been one of the best things for Dean, ever,” Sam agreed.
“And when our new pup comes along, we want you to be her godfather, Sam,” Garth said as they walked over to the Impala.
“Her?” Sam queried.
“Yeah,” Garth grinned. “We’re gonna have a girl!”
“Great, Sammy can teach her to braid her hair.” Dean called out.