Hello, you wonderful readers! I have been MIA for a while, but I had this one shot written a few months ago and was finally able to type it up! The character Emily Winchester is taken from a previous one shot I wrote (The Visit) and follows the same back story. You don't have to read it to understand this one though. The main part to know is that Emily's mom died in a car crash when she was very young and since then Sam has worked as a lawyer, giving her a normal life, and unbeknownst to her, Dean is still a hunter.

I want to give a HUGE, very special shout out to Emma Winchester 424. She has been an amazing cheerleader and friend to me lately and this story wouldn't have been published without her! I think we should all thank her be cruising over to her page and checking out her AWESOME fics about Dean having a daughter named Natalie. I promise they will blow your mind!

Now on to the main attraction! This is only a one shot but I hope to write other stories about Emily in the future. So please let me know what you thought of it!

Read, Review, but most importantly, ENJOY!

"You're freaking unbelievable!" Emily lashed out at her father.

"And you're being overly dramatic," Sam shot back, his patience already dissipating into thin air.

It wasn't the first time they'd had a yelling match over one of her father's decisions and Sam cringed at the mere thought that this was nowhere near the final one. At fourteen years old, Emily was barely into her teenage years. Sam knew he had always dreaded them for a very good reason: This. The fighting, yelling, name-calling, door slamming, and the he-never-can-do-anything-right attitude she carried around. He had hoped maybe his daughter would be different—he'd raise her enveloped in love and care and they'd somehow be immune to this demonic teenage virus, but if his previous life had taught him anything, it was that luck didn't exist for a Winchester.

Emily shifted her stance, standing firmly in front of her father, arms crossed. "I'm the dramatic one? You should take a look in the mirror. You're the one who's overreacting here!"

Sam had to mentally fight the urge to roll his eyes, not wanting to add any more fuel to her fire. "You better watch it," he threatened, his tone low and harsh.

Showing no self-restraint, Emily rolled her eyes, throwing in a frustrated sigh for added effect. "You don't let me do anything!"

"It's one class trip, Emily," he countered, taking a long sip of his water but inwardly wishing it'd turn to liquor. Alcohol had never been his vice, that was for Dean, but there were situations that certainly warranted its use.

"It's the class trip, Sam," she drew out the last word, trying to make her point cut deeper.

"Emily Marie," he warned, knowing she was just trying to push his buttons even further.

Even though she was blatantly aware that she was walking on this ice, she ignored him and continued, "Everybody's going—except me apparently. It's the one overnight trip we get to have before senior year!"

Maybe if you behave for the next four years, I'll let you go on that trip," Sam remarked, losing what little patience he did have left.

Emily moved to the other side of the kitchen, trying to distance herself from him even more. "Unbelievable." She threw her hands up in exasperation. "You don't even have a valid reason!"

"Yes I do," he countered, his hands resting on his hips. Emily stared at him with narrowed eyes, anger burning behind them as she tried to decide if he was about to reveal any new information. When he didn't say anything else, her eyebrows rose harshly, silently demanding he continue.

"Because I said so," he stated matter-of-factly. The go-to, all-American parent's answer when there were no explanations left to give.

Unable to be in the same room as him any longer, Emily grunted in sheer annoyance and hesitated for a moment, unsure if she truly wanted to say what was on her mind at that moment. Deciding to swallow it, she glared and walked right past her dad, making sure to ram her shoulder into him in the process.

"Emily!" he called after her, whether it was to scold her for being disrespectful or to talk more, she didn't know, much less care.

She continued up the stairs before going into her room, slamming the door behind her to make sure her dad had gotten the point that she was livid. Throwing herself on her bed, she grabbed her ipod off the nightstand, craving rap music that her father surely wouldn't approve of. She needed music as loud and strong as her anger.

Sam threw himself down in a lounging chair in the living room, pinching the bridge of his nose. A faint throbbing sensation had begun behind his eyes and he could have sworn it was getting worse with each breath. When the door slammed upstairs, Sam jumped slightly, before letting a small smile form at his stupidity. He should have seen that coming from a mile away. He wanted to reprimand her, but there were only so many battles he could fight in one day. He threw himself back in the chair, slowing rocking it with his foot as he replayed the entire conversation in his mind.

At first he had been completely open to the idea of a weekend trip. He'd listened attentively as she presented her case. "There'll be chaperones," she assured. Boys and girls would sleep in separate cabins. It was the overnight trip every eighth grader looked forward to, it was the end of their junior high era. As Sam listened, he knew he'd say yes. He trusted her, knew the school wouldn't let anything happen. He'd been dead set on her getting to do everything that a normal kid should do—everything he hadn't done.

"So what do you think?" she asked, her blue eyes gleaming with hope.

But before Sam could say yes or give her a full green light, there was just one piece of information that any responsible parent had to know. "Where is this place?"

"Shawnee National Park."

Sam's smile instantly faded and his jaw became firm. He felt his body stiffen as the hairs on his neck stood up. "The one up state?" he asked, fearing the answer.

"Yeah…" She stared at him, confused by his sudden change in demeanor. Sam seemed to be staring off into another dimension, lost in his own thoughts. "Dad?" she prompted.

He shook his head, brining himself back to reality. "No."

"No what?" she challenged.

"No. You're not going."

And the arguing, yelling, and name-calling had shortly followed.

There would be no explaining to her why he'd suddenly changed. How could he tell her that all the places he or Dean had hunted supernatural creatures were permanently engraved in his mind? It was a long, seemingly never-ending list.

He could never tell her that anywhere that was dark with trees and secluded from mankind was breeding grounds for something awful to hide out in—and that was exactly what had happened at Shawnee National Park all those years ago. No, he shook his head. He would never in his right mind send his only daughter—his reason for living—to a place that had once been their old stomping ground. No matter how sure he was that they'd offed whatever awful creature was lurking there…there was no erasing the thoughts in the back of his head that another monster could just as easily pop up again. He may have been out of the hunting game for years now, but that didn't mean all his old cases didn't still plague his nightmares.

The mere idea of her being there sent ice cold shivers down his spine and he felt sick to his stomach. His wife, Sarah, and he had decided long ago that Emily could never find out about that part of his life or that there were actual creatures that went bump in the night. He had vowed to protect her from that, but he wasn't able to pine over that thought much longer because the doorbell ringing countless times in a row ripped him from his thoughts. Confused, he glanced at the clock on the wall. 6:28. He hadn't been expecting anyone today, but there was only one person in the world that had the audacity to ring the bell like that.

Sam went over and opened the front door. There stood his older brother, a duffle bag resting by his feet, and his classic, cheeky grin plastered on his face. "Hiya, Sammy. Miss me?" he greeted, shoving past his brother into the house.

Sam looked between his forgotten bag and his brother who was already in the kitchen, head shoved inside the fridge. Sighing, he grabbed the bag and closed the door behind him. "Dean, what are you doing here?" he asked, little enthusiasm in his voice.

By the time Sam got to the kitchen, Dean was already sitting with his feet resting on another chair, an opened beer in hand. "Your stock is a bit low," he announced, holding up his beer. "And there's no pie." He shook his head disapprovingly.

"Well I had no idea you'd be coming," he retorted, sitting down across the table from him.

"Oh, come on, Sam. You know to expect the unexpected." He took a long savory swig as he looked around the room. "Where's my niece at?"

Sam ran a long hand down his face, the lines on his forehead showing his stress. "Now's not really a good time, Dean. I told you to always call before you decide to reappear."

"Ease up, tiger. You always say it's never a good time anyway. Here," he said, passing him the other beer he'd pulled out of the fridge. "What is it this time?"

Sam sipped the beer, mulling over a response, suddenly feeling relieved he had someone to talk to that would understand. "She says I ruined her life."

Dean's sudden laugh turned into a cough as he about choked on his beer. "You say it like it's something new." Wasn't that a parent's job? Kid says you're ruining their life usually meant you're doing something right in his book.

"If you'd come 30 minutes ago, you would have had a front row seat to our showdown."

"Well if there's anyone here that knows how to deal with a moody, teenage girl, it's me."

"You sound like a pedophile," Sam retorted.

"You're hilarious, Sam." His eyes narrowed in playful annoyance. "I'm talking about you. I had to deal with your moody, grumpy ass growing up."

Sam plastered on his bitch face and pursed his lips. "Seriously, Dean?" he shot back, clearly not amused.

"As a heart attack," he replied indifferently. "So what did you do?"

Sam took a deep breath, readying himself to dig back into the story. "There's this overnight field trip next month for her entire class."

"Co-ed?" Dean asked, his eyebrows high.


"Hell to the no," he said flatly, like he'd just solved all their problems so easily. "Right choice, Sammy. Do you know what boys that age are think-"

Sam interrupted, "It's not that. I was really going to let her go." Dean opened his mouth to object, but Sam held up his hand to stop him from speaking. "I've let her live a very normal life. I didn't have much to base it off of, so when in doubt, I'd ask myself 'what would Dad do' and then I do the exact opposite."

"Sam…" Dean said in almost a warning tone. The two of them hadn't always seen eye-to-eye on Sam's parenting decisions, but Dean still didn't like it when Sam would make comments about their dad. The years of trying to protect John and his decisions was something that he could never quite break.

Not even acknowledging him, Sam continued, "But that can only go so far. I could never put her in danger."

Dean stared at him, perplexed. "Well obviously not because I'd kick your ass."

"Language," Sam scolded, the word slipping off his tongue reflexively before he had a chance to stop it. His parenting mode was constantly on.

Dean rolled his eyes, not bothering to come back with a sarcastic remark. "So what was it then? If raging teenage hormones wasn't enough for you to say 'no', what was?"

Sam moved his bottle around on the table. "They are going to stay in some cabins up in Shawnee National Park."

Dean was about to respond so what? but when his eyes met Sam's for a brief moment, it all came back to him. Years and years ago, long before family and white-picket fences, they'd hunted a wendigo deep in those woods. Dean felt the memory hit him like a freight train. The blood…all the blood. There had been a huge gash in Sam's side that he was sure had probably left a scar even to this day from the crappy stitches Dean had given him (his best work from having a banged up arm and shoulder). Like hell he'd ever let his niece step foot there with anyone but the both of them on either side, flare guns at the ready.

"You made the right call," Dean agreed.

Sam half-smiled, soaking up the small reassurance he'd needed that he wasn't being an overly dramatic, protective father. "Yeah, but try telling her that."

Dean nodded, knowingly. He couldn't just simply explain all of this to Emily. Sam had made it very clear years ago, and Dean had even agreed, that Emily would never find out about that world, let alone Sam's previous life and Dean's real job as a hunter.

"She'll get over it," Dean commented, hoping to ease his worry.

"Someday maybe. In the meantime, I'll just have to deal with a daughter who hates me," he said, resigned.

Dean reached over, slapping him on the shoulder in his own form of brotherly encouragement. "She doesn't hate you, Sammy. She'll just think you're the world's biggest bitch for a while." He saw Sam about to open his mouth to retort something, but he cut him off. "I swear to god, if you say 'language,' I'm going to put freaking Nair in your shampoo again."

Not even trying to deny that was the word on the tip of his tongue, Sam just shook his head. He couldn't help it. Constantly scolding came with the dad territory.

"Where is she now?" Dean asked, finishing off his beer.

"Where every sulking teen goes."

"So her room?" he quipped, wanting to confirm.

"Yup. Enter at your own risk."

Standing up, Dean chuckled. "I think I can handle a thirteen year old miniature you."

"Don't say I didn't warn you," Sam threw back at him as he headed toward the hall.

Dean stopped for a moment before turning back around. "I don't have to remind you where she gets it from, do I?" Cue his devilish grin.

"Shuddup," Sam mumbled, annoyed but at the same time knowing exactly what he was hinting at.

"What goes around comes around, brother. It's God's payback," Dean jabbed playfully and just before he left the room, he caught a glimpse of Sam's bitch face as he threw up his middle finger at him.

Dean chuckled as he went upstairs, trying to tread lightly on the first few steps but his heavy black boots weren't exactly helping. Sighing and finally giving up, he stomped normally and went down to the second door—the only one closed on the floor.

He took a deep breath momentarily questioning why he came up here to begin with. He'd made a three-hour detour to stop by and see his family, so he wasn't about to let that go to waste. He was sure he could pull his niece out of her angry stupor.

Finally Dean knocked on the door. First lightly, but when there was no response, he knocked harder. Still hearing no signs of movement on the other side, he cracked it open, but before he could stick his head in, he was greeted with a harsh voice.

"Go away!" she bit.

Ignoring her, he stopped cautiously into her room. Her blue eyes burned into him, ready to yell at her father, but when she realized it wasn't him, she immediately pulled out her earbuds and sat up in her bed, mumbling, "Oh, sorry."

Dean stood there clearly waiting for her to get up. "What? Too cool to give your favorite uncle a hug now?" It wasn't every day Dean Winchester went around handing out free hugs to people, but there would always be an exception for Emily. Family always got a pass in his book.

She rolled her eyes at his theatrics but wasn't able to hold back the smile pulling at her lips. "What are you doing here?" she asked as she buried her face in his warm embrace.

He rested a comforting hand on her brown, curly hair. "Well I heard your dad's being a real ass, so I thought I'd come make things better," he replied nonchalantly, pulling back a little to look at her.

Emily instantly saw a superhero who had come to save her. "So you'll convince him to let me go on the trip?" Her eyes pleaded with his. That same puppy dog look as always, but there was no breaking this time. He'd love to fix things—heck, going behind Sam's back to get her things had always been a great pleasure of his, but this was completely different than sneaking her some ice cream or taking an eleven year old to a PG13 movie (breaking the law in Sam's eyes).

"No can do, Em," he replied with little remorse in his voice as he pulled up her desk chair and sat down.

"But you haven't even heard my side!" Frustration was boiling up again.

"Calm down there, midget," Dean remarked, motioning for her to sit back down on the bed in front of him.

"It just sucks. Dad's being an ass." She paused for a moment and then added before he had a chance to open his mouth. "And I swear if you tell me to watch my language, I'll throw this lamp at your head." She pointed to a small turquoise lamp resting on her nightstand.

Dean couldn't help but chuckle. Maybe this girl had a little bit of him in her after all. "Do you really think I care?" he laughed. "Who in the hell do you think taught you those words in the first place?"

At that, Emily couldn't hide a smile. Dean had always been her fun uncle, always knowing when to provide some comedic relief, but that wasn't enough to make her forget about her dad.

"So I was thinking tomorrow we could—"

"Uncle Dean," she interjected flatly, annoyance written all over her face at his attempt to change the subject.

Dean slouched back in his chair, crossing his legs at the ankles and his arms over his chest. "Okay then, let's hear your side of things," he relented

Emily sat up straighter, ready to bring her uncle over to her side. She started from the very beginning when she first found out about the trip and then added every minute detail about their fight earlier that night. Dean changed positions a plethora of times as he partially listened to her never-ending, extremely detailed story. It was something he could never understand about the opposite sex. How could they go on and on about the same thing for so long?!

"…so to sum it all up, Dad is basically ruining my life." Emily stared, waiting for him to say something, tell her she'd been right all along, but when he didn't say anything, she prompted, "Uncle Dean?"

At hearing his name, Dean sat up quickly and noticed she was now waiting for his reaction. "Ah, yes. He's a first-class dream crusher for sure."

When he didn't say anything else, she wasn't sure whose side he was on and she blurted out, "But you're going to help me persuade him, right?"

"Yeah, well about that…"

"I can not be the only one who doesn't go on this trip! I'll look like some little kid whose parents don't trust her!"

"I wouldn't say that its you he doesn't trust."

Now it was Emily's turn to fold her arms across her chest. "Then who?"

He paused for a moment, his mind racing with ideas about how to keep from digging this dangerous hole any further. "The boys."

"Boys?" she repeated in disbelief.

"Yeah, those bastards are only after one thing at your age, I mean when I was…"

Emily held up her hand, signaling him to stop. "Gross, Uncle Dean. Besides, we'll be separated and there will be tons of chaperones."

"I'm gonna be honest with you on this one." He leaned forward, closing some of the distance between them. "I'm certain there's no way either of us could change his mind on this one," he admitted.

Emily let out an exasperated sigh, throwing herself back on the bed and staring at the ceiling. All she wanted to do was scream. Wasn't he supposed to be the one to always help her fight against her dad? What happened to the awesome uncle who let her do everything? Suddenly she sat back up and blurted out her only argument left, "I bet Grandpa let you guys go on these trips!"

A disbelieving laugh escaped his lips before he could stop it. He couldn't help it. He had to take a second to collect himself before he burst out laughing again. "Yeah, not exactly."

"What do you mean?" she questioned. Her eyes narrowed, demanding a response.

"Dad…I mean, your grandpa…he didn't let us go on field trips."

"Ever?" she asked, disbelief clear in her voice.

"Not even a trip to the zoo."

Emily's lips twisted as she tried to lull over what Dean had just said. "Why?" she asked point-blank.

Dean hesitated for a moment. "You know what, I have no idea," he lied. Of course he knew. His dad had been overly paranoid about anything and everything and had never wanted them going anywhere other than school and "home." Anywhere else was a potential danger zone.

"I bet it was because you guys were bad. Dad says you were always getting him into trouble," Emily commented matter-of-factly.

Dean's brow furrowed up as he shook his head. "That little bitch…," he joked affectingly about his brother. He made a mental note to figure out what kinds of stories Sam was telling Emily later.

There was a moment of silence before Emily spoke up again, curiosity in her voice. "You never fought Grandpa over it?" She couldn't imagine never being allowed to go on any trips her entire life. There seemed to be things about her father's life that she had no idea about.

"Maybe the first time, but then I just learned that it was what it was," Dean replied honestly. He'd learned early on not to question what John Winchester said.

"And Dad was the same way?" Her face reflected the doubt in her voice.

"Your dad? The lawyer? Yeah right. He fought him on everything, right down to the kind of toothpaste he bought us," Dean quipped.

And now it was Emily's turn to laugh. "Toothpaste? Leave it to my dad to get his panties all in a twist over dental hygiene." It sounded so silly yet she could perfectly picture her dad doing it.

"That's only the half of it." Emily's eyebrows rose in curiosity. "I'll take you out for ice cream tomorrow and tell you all kinds of stories." He couldn't hide his mischievous grin. He was determined to get the last word, especially after Sam no doubt made up lies about Dean getting him in trouble as a kid.

"Sounds like a plan. I've been meaning to get more blackmail on him," she joked. "But that doesn't solve my current problem. I don't want to be the laughing stock of the school. The kids will think I'm some baby who can't be away from home."

Dean shook his head. "I doubt they'd think that."

"Uncle Dean, kids are mean nowadays."

He recalled how poorly they'd treated him and especially Sam at most of the schools they attended, so he could only imagine how much meaner kids had gotten over the years. He stood up, stretching his back after sitting in such an uncomfortable chair for so long. "Well then you'll have to give them a much better excuse than 'my dad won't let me'," he suggested, feeling proud of himself for giving a reasonable idea for once.

"Like what?"

Dean paused for a moment, racking his brain for a decent idea. "Like you have a family trip planned for that weekend to go somewhere more interesting."

Emily scooted to the edge of her bed, soaking up every last word of advice. "Like Disney World?"

"Sure, Disney World, why not," he stated nonchalantly.

Before he had a chance to think anything of it, Emily jumped off the bed and clasped her hands together in excitement, her bad mood from minutes earlier quickly erased. "Disney World! I've always wanted to go! It'll be so much fun!"

Dean froze as he processed all the words that were coming out of her mouth at a mile a minute. "Wait…Emily—"

"This will be the best trip ever!" she squealed.

"But that's not what—"

"All the kids will be jealous of me!" Dean couldn't even get another word out before she wrapped her arms around him in a tight squeeze. "Thank you, Uncle Dean! You're the best! I knew you'd make everything better!"

"But, Em, I don't think Sam will go for this," he countered, trying to talk her out of this unintentional idea of his before it went any further.

She skipped happily over to the door. "Well then we just won't invite him!" she remarked. She turned back around, surprised to see him still standing in the same position. "Come on, let's go tell him your awesome idea!" She threw him one last ear-to-ear grin before she took off down the stairs, extra joy in each step. Since Dean hadn't been too keen on fixing her current predicament, she had taken matters into her own hands. She all but patted herself on the back for the excellent job she did of tricking her uncle into a trip to Disney. At least something good came out of this awful situation her father had put her in. And even though she was aware that her uncle would be fully against that trip, she knew he also had a soft spot for family and in the end, he'd let just about anything slide by.

Dean stared at the doorway where she'd just disappeared. He blinked a few times, trying to decide if what he thought just happened did, in fact, happen. Everything had escalated so quickly and before he knew it, he was standing there, alone and dumbfounded.

"What the…," he muttered under his breath.

As he heard Emily's excited voice telling her dad about the plan downstairs at a mile a minute, Dean knew there was no backing out now—from the plan that was never supposed to be an actual plan. Dean Winchester didn't do Disney World. Not unless he was drunk, high, or possessed, and he really doubted Sam would let him get away with any of those.

"Freakin' awesome," he grumbled, internally coming to terms with the fact that there would be no way out of this. He'd have to swallow whatever pride he had left and take his niece to Disney World because the only alternative was breaking her heart over all of this and he could never bring himself to do that…not to his family anyway because family always got a pass in his book.