Baby's been grumpy this whole time. Dean likes Assbutt more than Dean likes him and that grates on Baby's nerves. Dean is his owner.

And then his brain gets sidetracked by how squishy and soft it is to sit on a bed. It's nice. Much softer than pavement and it lures him into flopping out on it and rolling around on it, right up until he realizes Dean is talking to him.

He earnestly snaps back up to sitting, like a dog called to heel, but then he grimaces again. "I am Baby. You named me." He's not going to respond to something else after all these years.