Hi everyone! I hope you are all doing well! This is the third and final chapter of this story. Please be sure to check out Chapter 2 if you haven't already. FanFiction was having technical issues when I posted it, and notifications did not go out to everyone, unfortunately. There's lots of drama in it, so you'll need to read it before this chapter!

Thank you to Emma Winchester 424 for always being my cheerleader in writing and in life!

Please let me know what you think of Emily. I have other short stories about her that I'm thinking of posting and I'm also working on a chapter fic for her with a bigger plot that I hope to post one day. So, let me know if you want more of Emily :)

Read, Review, but most importantly, ENJOY!

"What should I tell her, Dean?"

"Do what we always do, Sammy. Stick to the story. In my job as a cop, sometimes things can get rough, and...wait. How much TV do you let her watch? Does she even know what a gun is?"

Sam shrugged honestly. "I don't know. She doesn't watch a ton of TV, but I have no idea if she knows what a gun is or not...guessing by how she reacted with it, she's probably doesn't." He ran a hand down his face. "I have to talk to her about that." His expression showed how much he was already dreading the gun safety talk with his four year old.

"Do you...do you want me to...you know...help? Like...help you talk to her?" He wasn't sure what Sam's answer was going to be, since Dean was the one who got them into this mess in the first place.

Sam shifted his weight, knowing what he needed to do. "I think I need to check on her myself. I went pretty crazy earlier... and I need to fix that." He had to make things right first.

Dean just nodded his head- compared to their father, how he just scolded Emily was a walk in the park. But he knew Sam was also wracked with guilt, so he clapped Sam on the back with support.

Sam continued, "Maybe we should show her the gun, Dean. I've never talked gun safety with her or whatever...and today is probably a better time than any. We aren't going to show her the rest of your bag because I'm sure there's a freaking grenade in there, but I—I need to talk to her about the gun."

Dean looked affronted. "Do you honestly think I'd have a grenade in my bag?" Sam didn't even need to answer for Dean to know his response. "Yeah, yeah, I hear you. Gun only, unloaded. We don't really need to do knives- she said she knew not to touch the sharp stuff. Nice job there." He gave Sam an approving nod.

There was a special light behind his eyes at hearing the compliment. It was like confirmation that he was teaching his kid the right things and she was learning them how she should be. There was hope that she would learn about guns, too. "Okay, I'll be back." He gave Dean a nod and headed up the steps. He lightly tapped on the door before walking into his little girl's room.

Emily was sitting against the wall on her bed with her knees pulled up, a book resting on them to try and distract herself from the angry noises downstairs. Sam's heart melted at seeing his daughter "read" a book. Maybe he was doing okay with this parenting stuff in some ways after all.

He went over and took a seat on the edge of her bed. Emily's eyes showed a bit of fear, not knowing how her dad is going to react. Was he still angry? She closed the book and sat it beside her. She didn't speak as her blue eyes waited for him.

"Hey, peanut."

A small smile formed on her lips at hearing her special nickname. Maybe he wasn't as mad as before… She blurted out in one quick phrase, "I'm sorry, Daddy, I won't ever be bad again!" She scooted closer, wanting to be near him but not sure if he forgave her yet. "I told Uncle Dean to tell you that. Did he? That I'll never be bad again?"

Sam smiled at her persistence and his throat tightened at the same time when he saw the tear marks still lining her cheeks. "Yes, he told me." He held his arms out to her. "C'mere."

She didn't have to be told twice and rapidly scrambled onto his lap, leaning into his chest. "Don't be mad, please." Because he still hadn't told her that he wasn't mad and she couldn't accept it until he said it.

And Sam knew exactly what his daughter was searching for. "I'm not mad, peanut. Okay? I'm not mad." He cuddled her into his chest, just holding and rocking his baby girl for a moment. Hearing that he wasn't mad at her was all it took for her small body to relax into his. "But I am really sorry. I'm sorry because of the way I yelled at you. I got very scared, and I wasn't thinking straight." He leaned away so he could look her in the eye. "Can you please forgive me?"

She smiled that heart stopping smile he loved to much. The little girl replied with all the innocence in the world, like it was a given fact. "'Course. I always forgive you, Daddy."

His heart expanded at her words and her smile. He snuggled her in closer and kissed the top of her head. "Thanks, Em." He held her for another minute, hoping that this hug would make up the rest of his lame apology. After a moment, he leaned back and looked at her again. "Hey- let's go downstairs. We need to talk with Uncle Dean."

"Okay," she replied simply as she wrapped her arms around his neck, assuming he was going to carry her downstairs. He loved how cuddly she was right now. He rested his cheek on the top of her head, snuggling her as he walked down the stairs. "Are you sure you're okay?"

She nodded her head into his shoulder instead of lifting it up before asking, "You okay, Daddy?"

He smiled. "I'm much better now."

Sam walked into the living room and took a seat on the couch. He tried to gently pry her off and sit her beside him, but he could feel her body resist, so he just placed her on his lap again.

Dean squirmed a bit. He was SO out of his league here. He cleared his throat. "Yeah...hi, Em. So, we should talk about what happened. So...how's it going?"

Emily didn't pick up on his awkwardness. "It's betterer. Daddy not mad and you not mad." She smiled like all her problems were solved.

Sam added, "That's right, but Uncle Dean and I still wanted to talk to you about the thing you pulled out of his bag. Do you know what it was?"

Emily shook her head. "I think it was on TV one time. What's its name?" She turned to Dean for an answer since it was his item.

Dean swallowed hard. "Well, kid...it's called a gun. Police officers use them for safety and protection." The next words felt like acid rolling off his tongue. "And I'm a police officer, remember?" He had hated the lie they'd agreed on (Dean, reluctantly), but the lie had seemed most fitting for her later years when she would start inquiring more.

Emily quickly nodded her head. Not only her but all of her pre-school friends knew about her cool cop uncle.

Sam gave Dean a subtle nod that he was doing okay before adding, "And guns are only for grown-ups and cops to use."

And like any curious four year old, the infamous question slipped past her lips, "How come?"

Sam took a deep breath before answering, "Because they can be dangerous if you don't know how to use it properly. You could hurt someone else or even yourself." He leaned in a little closer, as if asking in secret, "You don't want to hurt anyone, do you?"

The little girl shook her head hard from side to side, "I don't wanna hurt nobody!" She turned back to her uncle and asked with innocent eyes, "But hot come cops gots a gun if it hurt people, Uncle De?"

Dean took a deep breath. Leave it to the kid to ask all the hard questions. Damn she was good. "Because...sometimes cops need some extra protection. We don't want to hurt people, but sometimes people try to hurt us or other people. So I have a gun in case I need it. And I only use it when I need it." Never mind the fact that he really did need it just about every minute of every day...

Her curious side was still shining through. "Have you used it?" Sam's eyes went wide, begging Dean to sugar coat it so much that it wasn't even recognizable.

"Well..." Awkward throat clearing. "I...keep it close in case there may or may not be something...or someONE, not someTHING...that might or might not want to mess around with me. Or not. Next question?" he stumbled over every word, but kept his eyes fixed on Emily as he could practically feel the WTF vibe coming off of Sam right now.

Sam was throwing him a bitch face and then quickly cut in, hoping to do some damage control.
"What Dean is trying to say is that sometimes there are some not so great people in the world who try to hurt others. So, cops and some grown-ups have guns to make sure that never happens."

"Bad guys never get us?"

Sam wrapped his arm protectively around her. "Right, the bad guys will NEVER get you, okay?"

Emily could see the determined look on his face and knew he was telling the truth. She nodded her head. "But if you are here to stop the bad guys from getting me, who's gonna help Uncle Dean?" She looked at him with some worry on her face that Dean didn't have anyone around to save him like she did her father.

Dean threw her a cocky grin. There was an unspoken tension behind the words that Emily wouldn't pick up on, but Sam would. "You don't need to worry about that, squirt. I'm fine. Your dad and I make a pretty good team when we're together. But he's needed here, so we learned to do things on our own. And he's really good at taking care of you. So that's where he's gotta be."

At hearing those words, Emily's body relaxed even more into her father's, if that were possible. Sam gave Dean a slight smile, enjoying the reassurance and love that he needed from his brother in that moment, even if he knew it still hurt Dean to be live separate lives.

Dean waited a moment as he poked her stomach playfully, before adding, "Okay, so in summary, you know not to touch a gun. Gun- no touchie. Nada. Got it?"

She nodded in understanding, but her little mind was still conflicted. "But how will I know what a gun looks like?" Because before she had it in her sight for like a minute before Dean ripped it from her grasp in the kitchen. Sam gave Dean a subtle nod, telling him it was okay for her to see it.

"Because...because I'm going to..." he saw Sam's nod, "...let you see a gun." He adds quickly, "But not hold. Or touch. Understood?"

She nodded her head, but then Dean's eyebrows rose slightly and she instinctively knew that he wanted her to say it. "I got it, Uncle De. Just SEE it." Sam gave Dean another nod to go ahead, trusting that his kid would be good.

"Okay." He took a deep breath. He crossed to his duffel in the kitchen and pulled his gun out, checking it three times to make sure it was unloaded. He turned around and slowly walked towards her. He stopped about five feet away and opened his hands to show her.

She narrowed her eyes like she was either concentrating really hard or squinting to see better, even though he was not that far away. "What does it do?"

Sam jumped in, "It's just to hurt bad people, remember?"

But that answer didn't satisfy her curiosity. "But HOW does it hurt bad people?" Her blues eyes stared expectantly at Dean.

"Because...because...hey, remember? I'm not smart. Your dad is. So he's gonna tell you." Dean flashed Sam his winning grin, happy to get the question off himself.

Cue the bitch face before Sam turned to his daughter and shifted a little as he tried to think how to approach this. Too much of the truth and he was his father. Too little or lies and he was really only making his daughter more naive in this world. He took a deep breath. "A gun has something called bullets. They're like this big," he showed her a small size with his thumb and index finger, "When you shoot them at bad people, it usually makes them stop. Does that make sense?"

She looked between the two of them and the gun, trying to process everything and much to Sam's shock and delight, she nodded her head, accepting the explanation. "Okay, Daddy I get it."

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. "Good job, kid. See? You're smart just like your dad."

Her smile widened even more at hearing that and she looked up at her father. They shared this brief special moment, just the two of them. Typically, Dean would feel weirded out being there, but he was actually glad he got to witness the moment, seeing how close the two of them were and the undying love he held for her.

Finally, Emily pulled back and looked over at her uncle. "I'll never ever ever ever ever ever ever," it was obvious she was enjoying the repetition, "ever ever," huge breath, "EVER touch your big bag that's only for cops and grown-ups." She waited to see if he approved of her declaration.

"Well, good. 'Cause that's never the bag where I keep your presents." He made a big show of gasping. "Aw crap. Guess I let the secret out."

She immediately started to squirm at remembering the gift she never found. She looked around and spotted Dean's other bag resting against the end of the couch. She was about to jump down and run at it, but Sam's grip tightened on her, not letting her go just yet. He glanced at Dean and silently asked if it was okay she got in that bag, if he was 110% positive there wasn't even a remote possibility something was on there she shouldn't see.

Dean nodded back reassuringly. While Sam was upstairs with Emily, Dean meticulously went through both bags, making sure it was clear. His backpack was good to go.

After having confirmation, Sam let go and she was off him in a flash. She jumped over to his bag and started tearing through it, tossing clothes everywhere until she grabbed her gift. She pulled it out and stared at it in awe, then turned around, holding it up high and declaring, "IT'S A DINOSAUR!"

"Yeah, it is! Here..." And he was off the couch in a flash, kneeling down beside her, his excitement almost matching hers, "See? If you push this button, it roars. Push it." His eyes lit up with childish pleasure.

She pushed it gently and then a load ROAR comes out of the dinosaur. She squealed with excitement and pressed it again and again, roaring along with it. She ran over and held it up in Sam's face so it could roar and then rushed back to Dean, roaring as the dinosaur attacked his arm. Through clenched teeth, Sam said quietly, "I thought we said no more noise making toys, Dean."

"We said no more LOUD noise making toys, Sam," he countered, grinning at his brother, but then he turned to Emily, plucking the dinosaur out of her hands amidst her protests. He showed the back to Sam. "Look at the button." There's an on and an off option.

After Sam nodded, understanding the magical button that God put on all children's toys, Dean handed it back. "Yeah, Dad, look at the button!" She pressed it again and it roared. Then she took off, doing laps around the bottom floor as she roared along with her toy.

Sam commented, "Well, this should at least wear her out in time for bed." He rubbed a hand along the back of his neck. "So how do you think that went?" he asked, referring to the serious conversation they just had.

"I think okay. I mean, I don't know. I've never had to convince a kid NOT to touch a gun." He grinned and said in a low voice so Emily couldn't hear, "I remember having to convince you TO touch a gun." Sam smirked at the memory. "I don't think she'll touch one again. You're doing good with her, man."

"Thanks, Dean." Emily took off upstairs to grab more stuffed animals because her new dinosaur needed friends. "I couldn't do this...any of this without you, man. So, um, thanks for everything."

"No problem, man. And when you're ready to train her on Latin Exorcisms, give me a buzz." He quickly added before Sam could blow his top. "I'm kidding."

Sam just shook his head and gave Dean a playful shove. "Not even funny."

Just then Emily came tearing down the steps with her dinosaur, a stuffed hippopotamus, and a Barbie doll. She put the dinosaur on the floor because that's her toy, and then held up the other two. "Let's play!" Dean and Sam shared a glance, knowing which toy they both wanted and even though the hippo was closer to Dean, Sam still tried to reach over and grab it.

Dean lunged towards the stuffed hippo, putting his open hand on Sam's face and shoving him away. He grabbed the hippo and muttered to his brother, "Sucker!"

She was completely oblivious to their squabble. She held out the Barbie for Sam who reluctantly grabbed it. "You get Sparkle Princess, Daddy. She's your favorite!"

Sam wanted to crawl in a hole and die from embarrassment right then and there. However, Emily was always one step ahead. She turned to Dean, "Don't worry, Uncle Dean, Daddy can share Sparkle Barbie with you next time so you get a turn."

Sam retorted through clenched teeth, "I guess we all can't be so lucky every time." He glared at Dean, even though he practically played with Barbies daily, he wasn't about to admit that in front of his macho brother. It was just something that came with the dad territory.

"You did very good, Uncle De. You didn't complain," she stated joyfully. It was an exact phrase that Sam had said to her on occasion when he'd praise her for not complaining about something she had to do. The things kids repeated, and when they chose to do it…it would remain a mystery to him.

Dean reached out and patted her on the head. "I know, kid. I'm the best ever. So, I think I should get some pie in exchange for being so awesome."

Between fake roaring and attacking both the hippo and Barbie, she casually confessed, "Daddy put pie in the garage fridge so you don't find it."

"Emily!" Sam shouted in disbelief that she'd given up the information just like that.

However, she looked sweetly up at him. "It betterer to tell him so he don't go looking and find a dangerous gun." There was more roaring and attacking Sparkle Barbie.

And Dean jumped on that like a cat on a ball of string. "How right you are, kiddo. I think from now on, we shouldn't keep secrets. You know, to prevent dangerous situations. I think we've all learned a valuable lesson today. Now if you'll excuse me," he stood up, "I will be in the garage."

Sam pursed his lips, annoyed that he couldn't do anything about it. Once Dean disappeared into the garage, he turned to his daughter. "I thought we agreed to keep the pie a secret."

"Secrets bad, 'member?" And Sam was about to argue that point, but then he thought better of it. Maybe his kid thinking secrets were bad wasn't the worst idea after all. It might come in handy.

He relented, "You're right, peanut."

She continued to make the dinosaur fly through the air as she finally remembered another secret she had to confess. "Oh, Uncle De and I tie all your shoes together so you don't gotta do it." She looked up at him innocently and smiled, thinking she had really helped him.

Sam closed his eyes for a moment before opening them and hollering out, "Dean!"