Disclaimer: I only own my character Mary-Elisabeth "Emmy" Winchester.

Emmy yawned for what felt like the hundredth time, she didn't even bother covering her mouth anymore. She didn't get a wink of sleep last night, not since she had her father on the phone. His voice, the way he kept telling her that he'd be a better father, or how he promised to put their family before Azazel, and not to mention the fact that he called her sweetheart – Emmy instantly sensed something was off. She had tried to call back but it looked like someone had turned the phone off, and that made everything more distrustful.

She remembered waking up Bobby and telling him about the suspicious call. He had told her not to worry her pretty little head and that her family would call her back in the morning and everything would be alright. But it didn't. The only phone call they got that morning was from the local hospital, and it wasn't good news. And to think that just a day ago, Emmy thought things were taking a turn for the better but now she realized how wrong she was. Things were going from bad to worse.

The only good thing that happened that morning was that Rumsfeld got back. He apparently got lost and stranded at some gas station miles away. A woman had found him and brought him back to the address written on his collar. But Emmy's happiness with his return was short-lived when she saw the Impala getting towed to Bobby's junkyard.

Emmy never thought she'd experienced heartache until she saw Dean's mangled baby. That car held endless memories of her childhood, from her father driving her around in the Impala when she was just baby and nothing else could rock her to sleep, to all those times Dean almost murdered her for girly-ing his car. The Impala was her home and now her home was wrecked.

It was Rumsfeld's barking that pulled Emmy away from her thoughts.

"I see someone has found his way back home," Sam chuckled when the dog spun circles around his feet, tail waggling, obviously happy to see him, and he wasn't the only one.


Sam had no time to react when he felt someone collapse against him, skinny arms wrapped tightly around his waist and a tear streaked face shoved into his stomach. He stifled a groan when he felt his ribs protest but he didn't make a move to untangle the nine year old from him, instead he wrapped his own arms around her, returning the hug. The two embraced without a word, they were both content just holding each other. They needed the reassurance that they were each okay and more importantly alive.

"Don't cry Emmy, it's alright. Everything's gonna be alright," Sam soothed as he peppered the top of her head with kisses, trying to cease his sister's tears.

"S-stop saying t-that," was her muffled response, her shoulders shaking. When did things ever go right in their lives? From the moment she was born, it seemed that the only way things were going was downhill and Emmy doubted they could ever get back up, especially after all these setbacks.

"Hey, come one. You know I hate seeing you cry," Sam tried instead. He wasn't about to argue with her on how the Winchesters were doomed when it came to happiness, even if it just lasted a second. He successfully untangled her arms so he could crouch down in front of her. His hands instinctively went to her cheeks, wiping the tears away. Her blurry eyes fell on his face and she seemed to have taken notice of his face for the first time, because she suddenly got back to crying.

"You look horrible," she sobbed, her fingers skimming over the multiple cuts and bruises on his face.

Sam sighed. If that was her reaction to seeing him – and he probably looked good compared to the rest of his family – he didn't want to know how she'd react seeing their father and brother.

"Well aren't you a charmer," he said instead, trying to mollify the situation. It didn't work though.

Emmy scowled through her tears. "Stop joking."

"Listen, it looks worse than it feels," he promised her, rubbing her arms.

"What about Dad and Dean?" she sniffed, using her sleeve to wipe her nose.

Oh God, Sam thought. How was he supposed to break the news to her without getting her more upset? Straightening himself, he swiftly hoisted her up and set her on the hood of a car, right next to the Impala. He took a deep breath before he spoke. "Dad's – Dad's alright, he's awake. He broke his right arm and fractured some ribs but other than that, he's okay."

"What about Dean?"

"Dean …" Sam started but found himself unable to form the words, not with his sister staring at him with those big blue eyes full of life, hope and love. He didn't want to crush her little heart, not when it was already crushed too many times.

"Sammy?" Emmy pushed softly with a hint of dread. It didn't take rocket science to know by now that her brother wasn't about to deliver good news. But she figured she could take it – one extra concern on top of her pile of misfortune wouldn't make more difference.

Sam grabbed her small hands, his thumbs brushing her knuckles. "Dean's in a coma." He didn't have the heart to watch her face as he dumped the information on her, although her broken voice didn't leave much to the imagination.

"What?" the question came out trembled, choked with emotion. "What does it mean? What is wrong with him? Is he gonna get better?"

Swallowing hard, he answered, "He sustained some serious injury – blood loss and contusions to his liver and kidney."

Emmy slowly nodded, taking the information in. Watching her brother, she could sense a but coming causing her to mentally prepare for whatever bomb he was about to drop.

Sam squeezed her hands. "But it's the head trauma they're worried about. The doctor says there're early signs of a cerebral edema."

"What's that?" Emmy asked.

Sam briefly cursed himself for telling her all of this, maybe he was giving away too much. He thought about sugarcoating Dean's condition but he didn't want to lie to her by making something so crucial, unimportant.

"Cerebral edema is a brain swelling. It increases pressure in the skull which prevents blood from flowing to your brain, causing it to deprive the brain from getting the oxygen it needs to function," Sam explained.

"Can't they treat it?" she questioned.

"It's difficult," Sam sighed.

Emmy focused on their intertwined hands as she tried to process all of it. "Is he …," she couldn't even think the words let alone say them, "… is he gonna die?"

Sam remembered the doctor's words like they were engraved in his mind – Most people with this degree of injury wouldn't have survived this long … you need to have realistic expectations … we won't know his full condition until he wakes up … if he wakes up …

Looking at his baby sister, he could practically hear her begging him to tell her what she wanted to hear instead of what she needed to hear. He would be damned if he let his family get struck by another tragedy, not again. Dean wasn't going to die, he would make sure of it. He didn't know how yet, but he'll come up with something, he'll find some hoodoo priest and lay some mojo on his brother if he has to.

Sam engulfed her in a warm hug, running a hand through the soft strands of hair. "He's not gonna die, honey," he whispered reassuringly into her ear.

The sound of footsteps made them break the hug but Sam kept his arm around her small shoulders. Bobby was walking over to them, Rumsfeld following him closely. He sent a sympathetic look at Emmy, patting her knee in a show of compassion.

He handed Sam a brown paper bag. "Here's the stuff your daddy asked for."

Sam took the bag. "Oh, thanks Bobby."

The man nodded, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jeans. "Did John tell you what he wants with it?"

"Protection from the demon?" Sam guessed with a shrug. Bobby gave him a look. "What?"

He adjusted his hat, an uneasy habit of his. "Oh, nothing, it's just, uh –"

"Bobby? What's going on?" Sam asked, alert.

Instead of answering him, Bobby turned to Emmy. "Hey darlin', why don't you get dressed. I'm sure you want to go pay a visit to your daddy and big brother."

Emmy knew it was a way of dismissing her, whatever he wanted to say, he didn't want to say it in front of her. But she honestly didn't care anyway, she just wanted to see her family. Sam helped her of the hood, dusting of her shorts.

"Don't leave without me," she told him.

"Go ahead, I'll wait for you." Sam patted her butt, sending her off inside the house. He waited until she was out of sight before he faced Bobby. "Tell me."


Emmy gripped her brother's hand tighter as they made their way into the hospital. The first thing she did was breath through her mouth, the smell of disinfectant and sick people was too strong and nauseating. Everything was too much, from the staff's squeaky shoes to the bright walls and floors. Plus everyone looked either sick, close to dying or just clearly unhappy. The hospital was just a bad place you needed to avoid.

The closer they got to the room, the more nervous Emmy got. She watched as the floor number in the elevator changed every two seconds until it stopped on the sixth floor. The doors opened and a long hallway was stretched out in front of them. Emmy gulped as she let her brother lead her to their father's room. She hated the familiar feeling of trepidation. It was the same way she felt when Dean was electrocuted and she had to hear how his heart was damaged beyond repair. She thought he was going to die, as in never going to see him again. When they managed to save him, she honestly thought there was a God who listened to her prayers. But now her brother was back in the hospital and his condition was ten times worse. Where was He now?

Sometimes happiness doesn't last just because we forget to thank God for it – That's what pastor Jim always used to tell her. It made Emmy realize that she hadn't been appreciating having her family around these last couple months. She was too busy wanting, wishing, for them to be a family again instead of being grateful that at least she had people to call family, even though they weren't always physically there. Maybe she should be thankful for what she has instead of being bitter for what she didn't.

"We're here." Sam knocked once on the door before he opened it.

John had just closed his eyes when he heard them coming in. He was about to tell Sam to let him rest for an hour or two when he caught the little blonde at his side, anxiously peeking at him from under her bangs. He mentally postponed his need for sleep and invitingly patted the space next to him.

"Hey, baby girl," he smiled.

A wary Emmy took small steps towards him until she reached his bed. "Hi, Daddy," she whispered.

John noticed her eyes roaming over him, taking him in – her eyes lingering on the sling and the IV hooked to his arm. He didn't want to push her and gave her the time she needed. Seeing your injured father lying in a hospital bed wasn't something you just got over, much less for a nine year old.

"How are you feeling," she finally asked.

John reached over to stroke her cheek with the back of his fingers. "I'm good, baby. Better now that you're here."

"It wasn't really you was it?" At John's confused expression she elaborated, "Last night, on the phone."

John's jaw flexed. Just the thought of the demon talking to his daughter was enough to send his heart rate up according to the heart monitor. "How did you know?"

Emmy shrugged. "The stuff he said about putting family before the demon, it just didn't sound like you."

John didn't know what hurt more, her hearing saying those words or the fact that she casually accepted that her father put his own family on second place.

"And you also called me sweetheart, only Dean calls me that," she added. "Uncle Bobby told me you were possessed by Azazel."

"I was," John nodded. "And I'm glad you listened to your brothers and stayed with Bobby. You understand us now when we tell you we just want to protect you? It's not because I want to keep you out of it, it's because I don't want you to end up getting hurt."

Emmy nibbled on her bottom lip. "I know," she said quietly.

John watched her for a minute before he opened his arms. "How about giving your old man some love, huh?"

Emmy smiled shyly but still carefully climbed on the bed to give him a hug. John wrapped his good arm around her, rubbing her back and combing her soft hair with his hand. He briefly closed his eyes as he pressed a kiss against her temple, he caught the scent of vanilla shampoo and pure innocence, making him realize that he might not have always done a great job at protecting his boys, but he hadn't screwed it up yet with his little girl. She was intact and unharmed, and that's what mattered.

It was then that Dean joined them in the hospital room. He was still reeling from the shock of seeing his unconscious body but now he was more shocked of the spirit he had just witnessed. His hunter instincts kicked in, causing him to put his own needs on the background and deal with the supernatural first.

"Sammy!" Dean moved to his brother who was leaning against the wall in silence. "Tell me you can friggin' hear me, man, there's something in the hospital. Now, you've got to bring me back and we've got to hunt this thing." Oblivious to his brother's presence, Sam didn't give any sign of having heard his brother. "Sam!" Dean yelled. He lifted his arms up before letting them fall against his hips in exasperation. It wasn't until he faced his father that he had noticed Emmy. And the sight of his baby sister nearly took his breath away.

She was … glowing? Dean couldn't believe his own eyes. Her body was surrounded by waves of bright, light colors. They vibrated and sparkled, reminding him of those spots you see in front of your eyes when you looked into the sun or when it's too hot outside, you can practically see the heat waves. But this, this was much more fascinating. Dean could've sworn that as he watched Emmy embrace her father, the pulsing energy changed into a more whitish color.

"You're quiet," John broke the silence, snapping Dean out of his thoughts.

Sam was fuming, his nostrils flaring. "Did you think I wouldn't find out?" he snapped, throwing the bag, containing the stuff from Bobby, at the foot of the bed.

"What are you talking about?" John adjusted Emmy in the crook of his arm so she was lying next to him with her head on his shoulder.

"That stuff from Bobby, you don't use it to ward off a demon, you use it to summon one," Sam confronted, raising his voice. "You're planning on bringing the demon here, aren't you? Having some stupid macho showdown!"

John sighed but he still kept his cool, mindful of his daughter next to him. "I have a plan, Sam."

"That's exactly my point! Dean is dying, and you have a plan!" Sam raked a hand through his hair frustratingly. "You know what, you care more about killing this demon than you do saving your own son!"

Dean was momentarily distracted by the change of color of the waves surrounding Emmy when they faded into a more reddish color. He snapped out of it and approached his brother and father. "No, no, no, guys, don't do this!"

"Do not tell me how I feel! I am doing this for Dean," John forced through clenched teeth.

"How? How is revenge going to help him?" Sam demanded with a challenging tone. "You're not thinking about anybody but yourself, it's the same selfish obsession!"

Dean walked between them, holding his hands up even though he knew it was useless. "Come on guys, don't do this! You're making Emmy upset." The said girl trapped her lips between her teeth, trying to hide from the two arguing Winchesters. Dean knew she hated when they fought, she would always be as quiet as a mouse and try to disappear in the background.

John scoffed. "You know, it's funny, I thought it was your obsession too! This demon killed your mother, killed your girlfriend. You begged me to be part of this hunt. Now if you'd killed that damn thing when you had the chance, none of this would have happened!"

"It was possessing you, Dad, I would have killed you too!" Sam countered.

"Yeah, and your brother would be awake right now," John accused. It wasn't until it was already too late that he realized how much of a low blow his words were.

Dean saw the glistening of tears in Emmy's blue eyes and decided that he had had enough. "Shut up, both of you!"

Sammy glared at his father. "Go to hell."

"I should have never taken you along in the first place," John said with narrowed eyed. "I knew it was a mistake, I knew I was wrong —"

"I said, SHUT UP!" Dean's hand smacked a glass of water off the table, causing it to crash to the floor.

Emmy let out a yelp, her eyes darting between her father and brother. "W-what was that?" she squeaked.

Dean looked stunned in a positive way. "Dude, I full-on Swayze'd that mother." His elation didn't last long when he suddenly crumpled in pain. "What is it?"

John noticed the nurses and doctors running by in the hallway, and his alarm bell went off. "Something's going on out there." He flicked his hand, indicating his son to go find out, Dean followed suit.

"Where's Sammy going?" Emmy asked.

John smoothed her hair down, pressing his lips against her head. "To find out what the fuss is all about." As he said that, his eyes suspiciously swept over the spilled water and the broken pieces of glass. Something was up.

Emmy tucked her head against her father's chest. "Hey, daddy?"

"Yeah, baby." John ran his fingers through the golden strands.

"Back at uncle Bobby's, when we trapped Meg, she told me something."

Those words instantly alerted John. "She did?"

"Mhmm," she nodded against his chest.

"What did she say?"

"She said that," Emmy swallowed hard, nervously licking her lips, "she said that … I belonged to Azazel … and not you."

John internally cursed Meg and every demon on earth back to hell. There was a reason why he kept his daughter away from every monster on earth – he didn't want her to get hurt physically but mostly emotionally. Those creatures had the most twisted ways of manipulating, they knew exactly how to play with someone's mind, hitting them right where it hurts the most. But his plan of not exposing her to that went straight down the toilet.

Emmy felt his fingers stop raking through her hair as they dropped on her shoulder. She rolled her eyes up when she noticed him getting quiet. "Daddy?"

John blinked, looking down at her. What was he supposed to tell her? That her mother made a stupid deal offering her to that yellow eyed hellion? That he almost decided to leave his wife when he heard about the compromise? That he travelled the states, trying to find the right elements to create a potion that would protect her? That the real reason her mother wasn't here right now, was because she died protecting her baby girl?

No. He couldn't drop all that weight on her small shoulders. What she didn't know, couldn't hurt her. Hiding the stuff she didn't need to know, protected her. That was John's mantra.

"You know demons lie, sweetie," he told her, brushing some bangs from her eyes.

"So she was lying?"

John nodded. "Yeah she was." Like I am, right now. "It's what demons do."

"Oh," she breathed. "Okay."

"Where's your necklace?" John suddenly noticed. "Emmy what did I tell you about – "

"Uncle Bobby's fixing it," Emmy quickly cut him off. "Dean told him something about vampires catching my scent and the necklace wasn't supposed to let that happen, or something like that."

"Alright then. But you stay close to either me or Sam, you hear me?" he playfully tapped her freckled nose.

"I know Daddy," she smiled.

Someone suddenly barged through the door, causing John's arms to instinctively wrap tighter around Emmy. When he noticed it was just a breathless Sam, he eased.

"I felt him," Sam panted, wounded up.

Emmy looked at him weirdly. "You felt who?"


John groaned when she suddenly sat up with a start. "He's awake?" she asked.

"What do you mean, you felt him?" John frowned.

"I mean it felt like, like Dean. Like he was there, just out of eyeshot or something. I don't know if it's my psychic thing or what – " Sam started rambling on. "But do you think it's even possible? I mean, do you think his spirit could be around?"

John had a pensive expression on. "Anything's possible."

"Well, there's one way to find out." Sam sounded determined, resolute.

"Where are you going?" John called after him when his son started leaving.

"I gotta pick something up. I'll be back," he said quickly.

"Wait, Sam." Sam walked back into the room, impatiently. "I promise I won't hunt this demon. Not until we know Dean's okay."

Sam held his father's eyes for several seconds, trying to find the sincerity behind his words. When he found nothing but honesty, he nodded before leaving.

Emmy tugged at her father's gown. "Daddy, can I go see Dean now?"


Walking down the hallway with Tessa, another spirit who was admitted to the hospital, Dean had to admit that it was nice not being the only one. It was freaky being 'out of your body', that much was clear. He wasn't used being on the other side, he wasn't used being the hunted instead of doing the hunting. Guess the tables were turned and Dean didn't like one little bit of it.

"I gotta say, I'm impressed."

Tessa casted him a questioning look. "With what?"

"With you." Dean scratched the back of his head. "Most people in your spot would be jello right now, but uh, you're taking this pretty well. Maybe a little better than me."

Tessa scoffed. "Don't get me wrong. I was pretty freaked at first. But now, I don't know," she shrugged. "Maybe I'm dealing."

Dean's eyebrows raised. "So you're okay with dying?"

The dark haired woman quickly shook her head. "No, of course not. I just think, whatever's gonna happen is gonna happen. It's out of my control, it's fate," she sighed, accepting whatever life had in store for her.

"Huh," Dean huffed. "Well, that's crap. You always have a choice. You can either roll over and die or you can keep fighting." That's how he was raised – caving in was no option.

It took Dean several seconds as he walked for him to notice that Tessa had long stopped. Her mouth was slightly open, her eyes filled with admiration as she stood there staring at something in wonder. Dean was about to ask her what she had seen when he followed her gaze.


"I-I've never seen anything like this before," Tessa whispered with a hand on her chest. "It's beautiful."

Dean stared at his baby sister, his cutie pie, as she held her father's hand while he talked to a doctor. She was nibbling on a Twix' bar and Dean had the reflex to wipe away the trail of chocolate on her cheek. She had always been such a messy eater.

"What is it?" Tessa asked, still astonished.

Dean guessed that she was referring to the colorful, vibrant waves surrounding his sister. "Beats me."

Tessa's eyebrows bunched together as she thought hard. "I think it's her aura."

Dean briefly took his eyes off his sister to throw Tessa a weird look. "Her aura?"

"Yeah. I mean you can clearly distinguish the multiple layers. Every color stands for a specific aspect, like her emotions, her personality or spirituality," she explained. "I wonder if it's because of our condition that we can see it."

"It's because she isn't wearing her necklace," Dean mumbled to himself, suddenly remembering the whole ordeal about her soul and aura. So that's how it looked like to other creatures? No wonder it attracts them, his sister shined so bright he bet even a blind monster would sense her.

Tessa's head snapped in his direction. "What?"

Dean cleared his throat. "I think it's because we're in limbo," he quickly answered. He wasn't about to explain the whole thing to this woman he just met.

Tessa only nodded. "She's really pretty," she smiled fondly. "Actually," she looked at him pensively, "she kinda looks like you. The nose, the lips, the bone structure."

Dean couldn't help but chuckle. Well now he couldn't hide it anymore. "She's my baby sister."

"Oh," Tessa's eyes widened. "That explains it. How come she's the only one with the –"

"Room 237, code blue," someone made a PA announcement. "Dr. Kripke to room 237, code blue."

"Hold that thought," Dean told her before he ran off.

"Where are you going?" Tessa called after him.

"Just wait here!" And with that Dean ran down the hallway to another room in crisis. His eyes instantly caught the same spirit, the one he had already seen with another patient, hovering over a young girl. As the doctors tried to resuscitate her, the spirit reached a hand into her face.

Dean lunged at the spirit. "Get away from her!" He watched as it vanishes but it was already too late.

One of the doctors called it. "Time of death, five eleven p.m.."

The nurse sighed sadly. "At least she's not suffering anymore."


Emmy stared at Dean's comatose body as he lay in the white hospital bed, hooked up to a heart monitor and other machines by multiple wires. Hadn't it been for the steady beeping, she would've thought he was dead. She wasn't used to seeing him so still, even when he slept he was always two seconds away from attacking. But now … now he was two seconds away from dying.

John placed his hand on her shoulder from behind. "You don't have to – "

Emmy shook her head, stopping him from finishing his sentence. "I want to." I have to.

"Alright then. I'll give you some time alone with your brother."

Emmy looked up at her father. "What do I do?"

John crouched down to her level, brushing her chin. "Talk to him."

She threw her motionless brother a look. "Will he hear me?"

"Doctor told me that coma patients recover faster when they hear a familiar voice," he shrugged. "I think it's worth the try." Emmy nodded. "You come get me if you need me, okay?"


John kissed her forehead before he left, closing the door behind him.

Emmy took a deep breath before she slowly let it out. She thought of how the silence in the room was deafening and how she felt goose bumps all over her skin, while she took small and slow steps towards her brother. There was a chair next to the bed, which she pulled closer to her brother before sitting on it.

Her eyes swept over every inch of his face as she felt the need to verify if the man in front of her was her actual brother – from the almost invisible scar behind his ear to the faint, eighteen freckles on his nose. But Emmy found nothing that could prove her that this wasn't Dean, because he clearly was.

Carefully taking his calloused hand in hers, she noticed how small and soft hers was compared to his. She missed the way his long fingers would engulf her hand, giving her a gentle squeeze. She even missed how his thumb would always absently stroke her knuckles. But now his hand just lay heavy and unresponsive in hers, another reminder of his condition.

"H-hey Dean." Emmy cleared her throat. "Dad said that I should talk to you but I'm not sure if you'll actually hear me … I don't really know what to say …" The distracting beeping of his heart monitor was the only sound filling up the silence and it made her nervous. Trying to block the sound, Emmy focused on her brother. "I'm really sorry about what happened. It shouldn't have happened to you. Not that I wanted Dad or Sammy to lie in here, but you probably deserve what happened to you the least of anyone on this earth." Her eyes started to sting with silent tears.

"Remember when you said you wouldn't go anywhere without me? I really hope you aren't planning on leaving me here, Dean. I know everyone I love has left me at one point – Mom, Dad and even Sammy … but never you. No matter what, you always stayed with me. You always took care of me without complaining once about it. You kept giving everything you had without expecting anything in return. You were there with every single step I took - when I said my first word, on my first day to kindergarten, when I lost my first tooth, you were even there on the father-daughter dance because Dad couldn't make it. And I realize now that I may have taken all of that for granted, I never told you thank you for just being there for me, for having my back."

Emmy used her sleeve to wipe away the tears rolling down her cheeks. Her shoulders shook from the sobs, the only thing refraining her from actually crying was the big lump in her throat. She mentally wished her brother could hear her, not knowing that he was listening. In fact, he was right behind her, listening to every word with tears in his eyes.

Dean wanted nothing more than wrap his arms around her and never let go. It broke his heart hearing his baby sister pour her little heart out. He wanted to tell her that she wasn't a burden at all, he loved taking care of her, he loved having someone depending on him. He would never trade her for the world, she meant more to him than she could ever think of.

Emmy sniffed. "To be honest, I don't think I can live without you," she whispered.

"Me neither, sweetheart," was Dean's silent reply. "Me neither."

"I mean who else would tie my shoelaces, attack me with tickles, sneakily buy me candy or sing Hey Jude whenever I can't fall asleep. Who else is gonna call me cutie pie?" she chuckled through the tears.

Dean couldn't help but smile at that.

His sister brought his hand to her lips, dropping a kiss on the palm of his hand where there wasn't an IV hooked. "Please come back," she whispered before standing up and placing another kiss on his temple. She briefly ran her fingers through his hair, saying, "I love you."

Dean watched the scene unfold in front of him with a heartache so intense, he wanted to do something, give her a sign that he was right here and that he wasn't going to leave her anytime soon. But he couldn't even touch her, let alone talk to her. It was maddening.

"I love you too," was the only thing he could say. He just hoped that she didn't need to hear him to know that.


Emmy had fallen asleep with her head on Dean's bed, using his hand as a pillow against her wet cheek. Dean hadn't moved an inch from his stance against the wall since his sister had entered his room. He had been watching her sleep – she always looked so serene and so much younger and innocent when she slept. Dean didn't care how creepy it sounded, but he loved watching her sleep. There was something oddly peaceful about it, it calmed him down.

Then there was the waves, or aura as Tessa had called it. It was fascinating, mesmerizing to watch. Dean thought of Azazel's words – I heard she was special. And she was, in more ways than he knew. He still couldn't get over the other thing the demon said about his mother. Would she have really done that? Promise her own child to a monster like Azazel? It just didn't sound like his mother. The fact that his father knew all about it and never told him or Sam, only made him more mad. He had told them about her soul, that she was one of a kind, but that was about it. John had never once spoken a word about what really happened that night their house almost burned down the first time, when Sam was just six months old. John never told them how Mary and him already knew about what lurked in the dark.

But the Emmy thing still topped everything. Dean couldn't wrap his mind around it. Looking at his sweet baby sister, knowing that she was promised to the yellow eyed demon, made his big brother instincts come out. He wanted nothing more than take her to the other side of the world, far away from that demon, far away from any harm.

How could his mother even do something like that? He knew that she only wanted save Sam, but at what cost? The life of her other child? And even though she had a plan of protecting Emmy and not ever giving her away, it still resulted in her death. And was it worth it? Yes, because she saved the little girl he couldn't live without. And no, because he lost the woman he couldn't live without.

Dean wondered how his father dealt with the revelation. Knowing that man like the back of his hand, he knew his father would've been pissed. Better yet, Dean suddenly remembered a huge fight between his parents, five years before Emmy was born. He wondered if that fight was the result of Mary telling her husband about the deal she made. That would explain why his father abruptly left for almost a month before coming back. It would also explain why his father suddenly befriended Bobby and other people that he now knew as hunters.

The door to the hospital room suddenly opened, revealing Sam clutching a paper bag in his arms. Sam closed the door quietly when he noticed Emmy sleeping. He dropped the bag on another chair before he reached her. He gently woke her up by rubbing her back.

Emmy stirred, blinking up at him confused. "Mhmm?"

Sam noticed one cheek was red from where she slept on Dean's hand, her eyes were also red rimmed, signaling him that she was either tired or had been crying – probably both.

"Hey honey," he smiled softly, brushing her hair away from her face.

Emmy rubbed her eyes with her fists, yawning. "How long was I asleep for?"

"Almost two hours," Dean replied even though neither of them could hear him. He had also been wondering where his father was, he hadn't shown up since he dropped Emmy off.

"I left nearly three hours ago so I think you've been sleeping for about two hours," Sam answered. "You okay?" he asked her, searching her face.

Emmy nodded, looking at Dean. She had dreamt that this was all just a nightmare but it was obviously just a dream. "Yeah," she rasped, "just tired that's all."

Sam continued rubbing her back. "You want me to drop you off at Bobby's so you can get some rest?"

"No," she shook her head, looking more awake. "I wanna stay here with you guys."

Sam was about to point out that she looked exhausted, knowing that everything had taken a toll on her. But her pleading eyes begged him to stay with them. He relented, she wouldn't listen to him anyway, not when Dad was around, than she only listened to their father.

"Okay," Sam nodded, dropping a kiss on her head.

"So what did you get?" Emmy asked, pointing at the bag on the chair.

Sam chuckled nervously. "Don't make fun of me for this, but I think I found a way to talk to Dean."

Emmy sat up straighter in her chair. "You did?"

"Oh you gotta be kidding me," Dean groaned from behind Sam when he pulled out a box labeled Mystic Talking Board.

Emmy's eyes widened. "An ouija board?" she followed her brother as he sat cross legged on the floor. "I thought that only worked in movies?"

"Can't hurt to try, right?" Sam said as he set the board on the floor. "It's the only way to find out if he's around or not."

"It's worth a shot I guess." Emmy sat on the opposite side of her brother, watching the board. "How does thing work?"

Sam took the triangular pointer and placed it on the board. "Put your hands on this." Emmy was a little skeptic about it but she did as he said. Sam exchanged a look with his sister before he asked, "Dean? Dean, are you here?"

Emmy looked around, expecting him to suddenly appear. His body was still motionless on the bed though.

Dean rolled his eyes. "God, I feel like I'm at a slumber party." But he decided to humor his siblings anyway. Sitting between them, he sighed. "All right, guys. This isn't going to work." Dean placed his own fingers on the pointer, slowly sliding it to YES on the board.

Emmy gasped. "It moved! Sammy, it moved! I swear I didn't push it," she exclaimed. Gone was the exhaustion, she was excited now at the possibility of communicating with her brother.

"I'll be damned," Dean muttered under his breath.

"I know, Emmy," Sam laughed in relief. "It's good to hear from you, man. It hasn't been the same without you, Dean."

"Yeah, we really miss you," Emmy added with a hint of sadness.

Dean had his trademark smirk plastered on his face. "Damn straight." He placed his fingers on the pointer again.

"What is he saying?" Emmy asked, watching the pointer slide to different letters.

"Dean what?" Sam questioned, confused.

"H? U?" Emmy mumbled. "Hunt? Hunting?" she guessed.

"Dean, are you hunting?" Sam asked. The pointer slid back to YES. "It's in the hospital, what you're hunting? Do, do you know what it is?"

"One question at a time, dude." Dean slid the pointer to the letters R, E, A and P. "I don't think it's killing people. I think it's taking them. You know, when their time's just up."

"A reaper," Sam breathed. "Dean. Is it after you?"


"Oh no." Emmy shared a concerned look with her brother. .

"If it's here naturally, there's no way to stop it," Sam said.

Dean ran a tired hand down his face. "Yeah, you can't kill death."

Sam's shoulders dropped with the sudden weight of the news. "Man, you're, um … "

"I'm screwed, Sam." Dean slowly shook his head.

"Is he gonna die?" Emmy choked out, her bottom lip trembling.

"Aw don't cry, sweetheart." Dean wanted to hold her so badly.

"Emmy come here." Sam opened his arms for her. His baby sister crawled into his lap, feeling her brother embrace her with his long arms. "I'm not gonna let him die, honey. There's gotta be a way. Dad will know what to do," he mumbled against her hair. An idea suddenly popped into his mind. "Emmy stay here, I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"You've seen Dad around?" Sam asked, standing up.

"No," she shook her head, "not since he dropped me off here."

"Okay, well I go look for him and bring us something to eat too." Sam started for the door, he turned around, giving her a pointed look. "Stay here."

Emmy yawned, waving him off. "I'm not going anywhere." She got back to sit on the chair next to Dean's bed. She tucked her knees under her chin, hugging her legs. "Guess it's just you and me, now."

Dean moved to stand behind her. "Just you and me, sweetheart," he sighed. Standing so close to her, he could suddenly feel the vibrant waves. They made him feel warm inside – not the hot kind but the relaxing kind. He itched to touch the glowing radiance as his fingers caressed it.

Emmy startled, sitting up in her chair.

Dean's eyebrows rose up. "I'm guessing you felt that?"

"Dean, was that you?" Her hand trailed to her shoulder. She could've sworn she felt something. The pointer on the board suddenly slid to YES. "How do I know it's really you?" she couldn't help but ask. They were in a hospital, she figured lots of spirits were probably wandering around in this place.

"Cause I'm awesome, that's how," Dean snorted a laugh. He slid the pointer to the letters Q, T, P and I.

"Cutie pie," Emmy giggled. "Oh, it's you alright."

Half an hour later, Sam came back with their Dad's leather journal and two take out containers. "Hey. So Dad wasn't in his room."

"Where is he?" Emmy and Dean asked at the same time.

"No idea. I'm sure he won't be gone for too long," he answered as he handed Emmy one of the containers.

She opened it. "Mhmm, noodles."

Sam sat at the end of Dean's bed. "So I got Dad's journal, so who knows? Maybe there's something here." He started flicking through the pages, stopping on the page about the Reapers.

Dean stood behind him, reading with him. "Thanks for not giving up on me, Sammy," he started to say when his eyes suddenly fell on something. "Son of a bitch."


Dean stalked down the hallway until he found Tessa in one of the rooms. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed casually instead of her hospital gown.

"Hi, Dean."

Dean couldn't believe it. How did he not see this? "You know, you read the most interesting things. For example, did you know that reapers can alter human perception? I sure didn't. Basically they can make themselves appear however they want. Like, say, uh, a pretty girl. You are much prettier than the last reaper I met," he smiled but it didn't reach his eyes.

Tessa gave him a knowing look. "I was wondering when you would figure it out."

"I should have known." Dean licked his lips with a shake of his head. "That whole accepting fate crap of yours is far too laid back for a dead chick. But the mother, and the body, I'm still trying to figure that one out."

"It's my sandbox, I can make you see whatever I want," Tessa explained.

Dean scoffed in a frustrating way. "What, is this like a turn-on for you? What, toying with me?"

"You didn't give me much choice," she approached him carefully. "You saw my true form and you flipped out. Kinda hurts a girl's feelings. This was the only way I could get you to talk to me."

"Okay, fine. We're talking. What the hell do you want to talk about?" he almost demanded.

"How death is nothing to fear." She walked over to him, gently touching his cheek. "It's your time to go, Dean. And you're living on borrowed time already."

Dean shook his head in disbelief. He walked over the window to stare into the dark night. He thought about his life, the things he had done, the things he still wanted to do. He wasn't ready to leave yet, he wasn't ready to die.

"Look, I'm sure you've heard this before, but ... you've gotta make an exception, you've gotta cut me a break."

Tessa watched his back, nodding knowingly. "Stage three; bargaining."

Dean turned around, facing her. "I'm serious. My family's in danger," he emphasized. "See, we're kind of in the middle of this war, and they need me."

"The fight's over," she told him gently.

"No, it isn't," Dean disagreed.

"It is for you," she told him with a calm tone. "Dean, you're not the first soldier I've plucked from the field. They all feel the same. They can't leave. Victory hangs in the balance. But they're wrong. The battle goes on without them."

Dean refused listening to her – she was wrong, he wasn't like anybody else. "My brother. He could die without me. My sister's still a kid, she needs me."

"Maybe he will, maybe he won't. And your sister is stronger than you think, Dean. I could sense her strength." Tessa offered him a tender smile. "Either way, there's nothing you can do about it. It's an honorable death. A warrior's death."

Dean scoffed. "I think I'll pass on the seventy two virgins, thanks. I'm not that into prude chicks anyway."

"That's funny." Tessa didn't laugh. "You're very cute."

"There's no such thing as an honorable death," Dean discussed. "My corpse is going to rot in the ground and my family is going to die!" he stressed. "No. I'm not going with you, I don't care what you do." If she wanted to do it the hard way, then the hard way it is. He won't go down, not without a fight. And Dean was prepared to fight until his last breath if that's what it took.

Tessa's eyes narrowed a little at his defiance and strong will. It had been a while since she had dealt with a tough case, but Dean was something else. He was a challenge, that's for sure. A challenge she was willing to take. She knew all about him, which meant that she also knew about his weakness.

"Well, like you said. There's always a choice. I can't make you come with me. But you're not getting back in your body. And that's just facts. So yes, you can stay. You'll stay here for years. Disembodied, scared, and over the decades it'll probably drive you mad. Maybe you'll even get violent."


Dean gave her a questioning look. "What are you saying?"


"Dean. How do you think angry spirits are born? They can't let go and they can't move on. And you're about to become one. The same thing you hunt."

Dean dropped on the bed, his head hanging low.

And sinker.

Tessa sat next to him, stroking his hair tenderly. "It's time to put the pain behind you."

"And go where?" Dean asked. He sure wasn't going to heaven, he might have saved a lot of lives but that didn't make up for all his sins.

"Sorry. I can't give away the big punch line. Moment of truth. No changing your mind later." Tessa went quiet for several seconds, giving him the time to think it over, not that he had much choice. "So what's it going to be?"

As Dean turned to look at her, the lights suddenly started to flicker. "What are you doing that for?" He looked at her puzzled.

Tessa stood up, looking around the room when she heard a buzzing sound. "I'm not doing it," she sounded alarmed. This wasn't going like she had planned, something wasn't right. Her suspicions were confirmed when a black cloud started pouring out of the vent in the floor.

Dean jumped to his feet, alarmed. "What the hell?"

"You can't do this! Get away!" Tessa shouted.

"What's happening?!" Dean demanded.

Tessa screamed as the blackness forced itself through her mouth. Dean automatically took a step back as he watched her getting possessed by –

"Azazel," he whispered to himself when Tessa's eyes glowed yellow.

"Today's your lucky day, kid," she smirked, placing a hand on his forehead.


Sam adjusted Emmy in his lap where she had fallen asleep again. She was exhausted no matter how hard she tried to deny it. He absently twirled a blonde lock between his fingers as he kept watch on his brother. He had tried to contact him but he got no reply and it worried him to death.

"Dean? Are you here?" he tried again. He had hoped to catch the pointer slide to YES, or feel a wind or even see a light bulb flicker … but nothing.

He groaned, running a hand through his messy hair. "I couldn't find anything in the book. I don't know how to help you. But I'll keep trying, all right? As long as you keep fighting."

He didn't want his brother to think that he was about to give up. He was a Winchester dammit, giving up wasn't in their vocabulary. There was no saying how many times his brother went through fire and water for his siblings. Dean saw it as his main priority to take care of Sam and Emmy. Who knows how many opportunities and chances at a normal life he had blown off, all for the sake of his family. Sam knew that no matter what he did, he could never repay his brothers for all the sacrifices he made, for every little thing he did for them.

"You can't, you can't leave me here alone with Dad. We'll kill each other, you know that," Sam's voice was thick with emotion. Emmy moaned in her sleep, burying her face deeper into the warmth of his neck. He looked down at her young and delicate features, brushing his thumbs over her eyebrows. "I can't take care of her alone, Dean. You're the one who raised her, you're the one who knows how to look after her. She needs you more than anyone else on this planet. If not for me, do it for her."

Sam sniffed, brushing his tears away. "Dean, you gotta hold on. You can't go, man, not now. We were just starting to be brothers again." Sam watched his brother closely, searching for a slight change that would give him the sign his brother heard him. "Can you hear me?"

Sam shook his head to himself. The little hope he had left was slowly vanishing into pure despair. His arms wrapped around his sleeping baby sister, hugging her tightly against him. He was suddenly overcome by exhaustion as he closed his eyes and hid his face in Emmy's soft hair.


"Sammy! Sammy, wake up!"

"Mhmm, what?" he blinked at her, rubbing at his eyes. The clock hanging on the wall told him that it was three in the morning. He cursed himself for falling asleep.

Emmy jumped into his lap, cupping his cheeks as she demanded his full attention. "He squeezed my hand! I woke up cause I had to go to the bathroom and when I got back, you were still sleeping and I didn't wanna wake you up so I took the other chair and sat next to Dean. I held his hand and I squeezed it and then he squeezed back! I swear Sammy, I felt it. He squeezed back! It happened only ten second ago and –"

"Whoa, okay, calm down," Sam cut off her rambling. He threw his intubated brother a look but couldn't detect a slight change. "Emmy, are you sure you actually felt it?"

Emmy dropped her hands from his face. "Off course I am, Sammy. Why would I lie about that?"

"I'm not saying you're lying, I'm just saying that it's been a very long night for both of us, so maybe you're just tired and – "

"I'm not imagining things either, Sammy!" she angrily stomped her foot. "He really grabbed my hand, it wasn't long or hard, it was just a quick squeeze and, and, and, … " she sighed, her shoulders dropping in disappointment. "You're right … it probably was nothing anyway," she mumbled miserably.

Sam tucked her back into his lap, kissing the side of her face. "Hey, don't lose hope, alright? Dean wants us to be strong."

Emmy shrugged, her watery eyes never leaving her comatose brother. "I want him to be strong."

Just as those words left her lips, Dean suddenly gasped, his back arching. Emmy's eyes widened in shock, watching her brother cough, struggling to breathe with the tube inserted in his throat.

Sam instantly punched the help button after he put Emmy on her feet. "Help! I need help!" he yelled.


Emmy punched the M&M button on the vending machine for the hundredth time. She punched it with her fists a couple times, even tried to shake the thing, but the yellow bag didn't budge. She tucked her hands in her pockets, trying to find some money but only had some dollar bills and the vending machine only took coins.

"Great," she muttered, giving the machine a kick with her foot. "Now what am I supposed to give Dean?" She had been so happy and excited when her brother woke up. She hadn't left his side since the doctor let them back into his room – that's probably why her father send her off to get Dean his favorite candy, to give her brother some room to breathe and recover.

"The thing stuck again?" An unknown voice suddenly asked from behind her.

Emmy turned around to see a tall man dressed in a pair of jeans, t-shirt and jacket. His shiny dark hair was neatly combed back and his brown eyes twinkled in mischief. Emmy didn't know the man, and she wasn't supposed to talk to people she didn't know, but this guy sent off vibes that instantly made her comfortable around him, she even trusted him.

"Uhm, yeah," she nodded. "It already ate all my coins."

The man gave one look at the vending machine and nodded. "I think I can fix that." He crouched down to her level and motioned for her to get closer. "Is it the M&M's that you want?" Emmy nodded. "Okay, well I know a trick but you have to promise not to tell anyone, okay?"

Emmy's eyes widened in excitement. "I won't tell," she promised.

"Alright then. The trick is to just stare at it until it falls."

The little girl gave him a weird look. Was he crazy or something? "Just stare at it?"

"Yep, just keep staring without blinking and it will drop," he told her with determination. Emmy still looked skeptic and he nudged her with his shoulder. "Wanna try?"

She shrugged. "Sure … I guess … "

"Let's do it together. Three, two, one!"

Emmy felt a little stupid as she stared at the dangling yellow bag. She glanced at the man out of the corner of her eyes and stifled a giggle when she saw him squinting his eyes in concentration.

"It isn't gonna work if you're not helping," he pointed out without taking his eyes off the M&M's. When she turned her gaze back to the machine, his lips twitched into a smirk. With a simple, silent snap of his fingers, multiple M&M bags suddenly fell down.

Emmy gasped. Not one, not two, not three, but five bags dropped in the dispensing slot. "How did you do that?"

"Magic." He winked.

Emmy grinned. "Dean is gonna be in seventh heaven." She grabbed the packs and offered him one. "It's only fair if I share it with you."

He declined with a shake of his head. "No, you take it, sweet cheeks. It's all yours."

"Oh, well thank you mister …"

"Gabriel. You can call me Gabriel," he smiled. "So, who's the lucky guy getting all of that chocolate."

Emmy's face split into a wide smile. "Oh that's Dean. He's my brother. He just woke up from a coma today. The doctors say it's a miracle."

"You look like you don't believe that?" he noted.

Emmy shrugged her small shoulders. "I don't know, I don't really believe in miracles."

"Well, do you believe in God?" he asked.

"Sometimes. I used to believe in him but lately I feel like he isn't really out there," she told him.

"What makes you think that?" Gabriel questioned.

"Cause only bad things happen to me and my family," she answered gloomily, her eyes falling on her hands full of M&M's. "I've been praying a lot these last coupla months, but sometimes I get the feeling he isn't listening or something."

The man grabbed her chin, tilting her head up. "I can assure you that God is always listening. Just because he isn't answering your prayers, doesn't mean he hasn't heard you. It means he has other plans for you, he maybe even has something better for you."

"But why does he let bad things happen to good people? It just doesn't seem fair, don't you think?" she marveled innocently.

"Everything in life happens for a reason, sugar," Gabriel sighed. "God never gives you something you can't handle. He lets bad things happen to make you stronger and there's nothing wrong with being stronger. In fact, believe me when I say that you are going to need that strength for later."

His words sounded familiar to Emmy, like she had heard it somewhere before. Only one person talked like that to her and that was Pastor Jim. She suddenly felt a pang in her heart at the reminder of him being gone. "A friend of mine who recently passed away used to say that God only gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers."

"And he is right. Promise you'll always remember that when you think about giving up, Mary-Elisabeth."

"Yeah, I will." She nodded. A thought suddenly came to her mind. "Wait, how did you know my name?"

"Emmy! There you are," John suddenly called causing her to turn around. "I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Oh, hi Daddy," she smiled. "Look what Gabriel got me." She showed him the M&M's.

"Who's Gabriel?" John asked.

Emmy was about to point to the man standing behind her when she suddenly noticed he was gone. She frowned. "He was right here just a second ago." She looked around, but couldn't spot him anywhere, it was almost like he disappeared out of nowhere. Strange … She also didn't get the chance to ask him how he knew her name.

"I'm sure Dean's gonna be really happy to see what you got him," John said, pulling her attention.

Emmy looked around once last time before she gave up. She faced her father with a dimpled smile, "Yes he will." She only know noticed the gift bag in her father's hand. "What's that?"

John handed her the bag. "It's for you."

"For me?" she asked in an excited, high-pitched voice.

"Consider it a birthday present," John smiled, tugging at her ponytail. "Now are you just gonna stare at it or open it?"

"But I don't understand," Emmy looked at him in confusion. "My birthday isn't until next week."

John swallowed down the big lump in his throat. "I know, baby girl. But I felt like this was the right time to give it to you."

"Oh, okay," she shrugged. "I don't think I could've waited until next week anyway," she grinned.

"You curious little bug," her father snickered, tweaking her button nose.

Emmy opened the bag and took out the blue tissue. Her mouth opened in surprise. "Aw, it's so cute!" She reached her hands inside and grabbed the dark blonde teddy bear. It had a little bow tied around its neck, its fur was so soft against her skin and it fit perfectly in her arms.

"You like it?"

"I'm in love with it," Emmy replied, hugging the chubby bear tightly.

"It looks like the one your mother got you when you were just a little baby. Unfortunately it got burned in the house fire so we couldn't scavenge it. But I coincidentally came across one that looked exactly the same in a thrift store," he explained.

"Thanks, Daddy." Emmy wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek against his hard stomach. John leaned over to press a kiss on top of her head as he rubbed her back.

"You're welcome, sweetie." He patted her back. "You're gonna name it?"

"Did Mom have a name for it?" she asked.

"Your mother used to call him Johnny cause she said we had the same dark eyes." John fondly rolled his eyes at the memory.

Emmy laughed. "He does have the same eyes as you." She pressed her nose against its soft neck. "He even smells like you," she added. "I think I'm gonna call him Johnny, too. That way I'll always have a part of you with me."

"I'd like that," he said quietly, his eyes beginning to water.

"Daddy, you okay?" Emmy sounded concerned.

"Yeah, I'm just – I'm fine, baby," her father cleared his throat, trying to compose himself. "C'mere, Emmy." He easily picked her up with his good arm.

Staring into her eyes, all he could see was Mary – the long eyelashes, the heart-shaped face, the full lips, the golden locks, the little grey flecks in her blue eyes – it was all Mary, only Mary. It physically pained him knowing that he would never see her grow into the beautiful woman she would be. He understood that the deal he made would hurt her terribly. But John was convinced that his sons would take care of her, protect her like they have done the last year. Sam and Dean have shown him that they were capable of raising his little girl, he trusted them with his life … literally.

"Emmy, baby, I want you to know that you have always belonged to me. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. You were mine from the start and you always will be. Some people will try to prove differently but you don't have to listen to them. Just know that you're my baby girl and nothing will change that."

"Daddy what are you talking about?" she asked, as her eyes swept over her father's face. His eyes were glistening as if he was close to tears and it got her worried.

"You might not have my eyes or smile, but from that very first moment I saw you … you had my heart." John briefly closed his eyes, trying to keep his emotions in check before he opened them again. "Promise me you'll always remember that."

"D-daddy what's going on?"

"Emmy, just please, promise me," he practically begged, his voice thick with emotion.

"I-I promise," she whispered. "Daddy you're scaring me."

"It's okay to be scared, baby. Everyone is a little scared." John stroked her cheek. "It's the only way to be courageous, just don't let that fear control you or overpower your mind."

"Why are you saying all of this, Daddy?" Emmy's voice trembled.

John caught a single tear rolling down her cheek. He cupped the back of her neck, pulling her forehead against his. "Because I love you, Emmy. I love you so much and I want you to never forget that."

"I love you too, Daddy," Emmy sniffed.

John pressed a lingering kiss between her eyebrows, closing his eyes to remember her sweet scent, her smooth skin and soft hair. He reminded himself that he made the right choice. Anything was right in his own eyes as long as his children were alive and well. He always said he would die for them and it was either that or lose his son. Azazel had tried to sweeten the pot by trading Emmy or Sam but John would have none of that.

"Over my dead body," was all he had said … and the deal was sealed.

A/N: Hi everyone! First I'd like to thank each one of you for blowing up my inbox with all those follows/favorites/reviews. It means so much to me knowing that a lot of you have decided to read my second installment.

So this was the first chapter and I know I haven't included the ending of the original episode, but I felt like this was the right moment to wind up this chapter. Don't worry, next chapter will include Emmy's reaction to seeing her father dying and I also added a little twist to the secret conversation between John and Dean at the end. You'll have to wait for next chapter to find out what ;)

I hope I didn't make you guys cry too much, this was pretty emotional for me to write. Also, don't put your tissues away just yet cause you'll need it for the next chapter(s) too :(

I also want to thank grapejuice101 for giving me the idea to include Gabriel. I hesitated between adding him or Azazel but I already have something else in mind for the demon in future chapters, that's why I picked our cheeky angel.

Please tell me about your thoughts in a little review. Also, I'm still trying to get used to writing in third POV so let me know how I did on that.

Next chapter: Everybody Loves a Clown – quick question: are you guys big fans of the Harvelle's or not? Just wanted to know …

Another big fat THANK YOU to all of you out there reading this. MWAH X!