Here's the ending to this crazy night at the Winchester household. Uncle Dean has been in for a wild ride! I hope you enjoy this conclusion!

As always, please do reach out with requests and ideas for future chapters :)

Happy U.S. Mother's Day to all the moms out there!

Read, Review, but most importantly, ENJOY!

Her brow furrowed as if she was thinking over an intense deal. She looked at her dollhouse over in the corner of her room and then back at Dean. "Okay. But you gots to play dollhouse with me."

Dean took a deep breath and instinctively scanned the room for cameras. If anyone ever found out about this, he'd rinse their brains out with bleach. Satisfied that there weren't any, he relented. "For five minutes only. Then you go right to bed. Got it?" He pulled out his phone to set the timer- he was not playing one second extra.

She noticed his phone and the timer, but decided not to worry about it. She practically bounced over to the dollhouse and sat on the floor in front of it. She picked up a Barbie dressed in a ball gown and a Pocahontas doll. She held them out to him. "Which one you want?"

Dean was relieved that the tears seem to have stopped. He eyeballed the dolls apprehensively, his eyes darting back and forth. The sight of a Barbie in a ball gown made him literally feel his testosterone levels dropping. He pointed to Pocahontas. "I'll take the Indian chick. She's kinda hot."

She handed over the chosen one. "How about my doll can be the mommy and your doll is the kid." She tried to hide a smile at the idea that Dean was going to play the child and she was in charge.

"Uh- sure. Okay." Once he agreed, Emily took some time explaining their characters and what each room was in the dollhouse. Feeling more stupid than Dean had ever felt in his entire life, he made the doll "walk" over to her doll. "Um- hey mom. What's up." He hated himself so much right now.

She moved the doll back and forth as she talked. "How was school, little Pocahontas? Did you learn anything fun?"

"Uh- yeah. Sure." He tried to move the doll back and forth like she was doing. He prayed that Emily would never tell Sam about this.

She put her hand up to her mouth and whispered, "You gotta talk like a girl, Uncle Dean. Pocahontas is a girl." Then she got back into character. "Good job, Pocahontas! You is super smart!"

Dean prayed that Sam had whiskey hidden somewhere in the house. He was going to need a very large drink when this was all over. He changed his voice to talk in a higher register, "Thanks, Mom! was your day?" He literally had no idea what to say next. It was like he'd forgotten how to talk or have any imagination whatsoever.

In an even higher pitched voice, Emily's doll replied, "It was good! I bak-ed some pies but you don't get none because you were bad." She giggled.

This threw Dean for a moment. Anyone denying him pie did not sit well- Barbie or no Barbie. In his high-pitched voice, he countered, "I wasn't bad! I was good! I should get pie."

She said with the same attitude that let him know it was a direct line from Sam. "Sorry 'bout your luck, young lady. But you're in trouble!" She pointed her finger as the doll bobbed back and forth.

Since she was doing an impression of Sam, he was going to do one of her. "I didn't do anything! I'm going to run away!" He pretended like the doll was running away.

Without missing a beat, she shot back, "You're too little to open the door. You gots to come back!"

"No I don't!"

Emily sighed loudly and the irony didn't even register. She put her doll down and looked at Dean right in the eye. "That's not how you play."

"Well- that's what you said when you tried to run away. I'm just trying to be true to real life." When he saw that she was not buying it, he conceded. "Alright, alright. What am I supposed to say?"

She looked at him like the answer was easy. "You're supposed to do whatever I say."

Dean sighed heavily. He knew there was no way that he'd win this one. But sure as hell he was going to use this against her later. "Okay. So then..." He walked the doll back and said in his high-pitched voice. "I'm back."

She said with a chipper smile, "Welcome back, Pocahontas! Are you gonna be good now?" And at that moment the alarm on Dean's phone went off. Emily froze at hearing it, her eyes going wide, but then she got right back into playing mode like it never happened. "You can eat pie since you didn't run away."

"Well, thank you." He turned the alarm off, then walked his doll to the dollhouse kitchen. He acted like nothing happened and made chewing noises. "Good pie, mom! Thanks!"

She kept looking at him out of the corner of her eye, not believing what was happening. "Thank you! I'm the bestest baker. Now you can go play! What do you wanna play?"

He gave a big, exaggerated yawn as he bobbed the doll back and forth. "Thanks, Mom, but it's my bedtime. And a good girl always goes to bed when she's told to. I want to be good so I can have more pie tomorrow." Dean watched Emily out the side of his eye to see how this was going over.

However, none of this was registering with her. "Okay, you be good. But we can play more 'cause I said it's okay. I'm the mommy."

Dean put the doll down and went back to his regular voice. "And I'm the uncle. So I say- bedtime, kid." He braced himself.

Her bottom lips stuck out in a pout. "But I say no bedtime, please." Because to a four year old, please was still a magic word that could work wonders on occasion.

However, it had lost its powers tonight. "C'mon, short stuff. You know it doesn't work like that. You already got extra time- it's bedtime, now." He put a bit of emphasis on the last word.

Her eyes brimmed with tears and she didn't say anything except grip the doll closely to her chest like it might be taken from her at any moment.

Dean knew the kid wasn't going to budge an inch unless he just picked her up and made her move. Dean sighed heavily. He thought to himself- here we go. He reached out and picked her up, cuddling her in his arms. "Come on, Em."

She was so exhausted that she was not nearly fighting as much as she'd like. Her head fell against his shoulder as she cradled the Barbie. She gave it one last effort and let the tears fall. "Play more, pleeeeease."

He felt her quiet tears starting to soak his shirt, but he could also feel how very tired she was. From here on, he spoke in a low, soothing voice. "How about if I read you a story instead?" He rubbed gentle circles on her back.

She sniffled but nodded her head into his chest, satisfied that she didn't have to go to sleep yet, so she didn't put up a fight. "Can we read with Cinderella and Wally?" She motioned to a medium sized stuffed wombat on her bed.

"'Course we can. C'mon." He slowly walked to her bed and sat her down, grabbing Wally and handing him to her.

She then snuggled under the covers against the wall as she waited. "Can we read a princess book?"

By now, Sam wasn't the only one who wished her princess phase would end. Dean turned his face away quickly and it appeared as if he were looking at the books, but he was really gritting his teeth and cursing whoever created princesses. Before he turned around, he smoothed his face out and said in a gentle voice, "Of course we can, kid. What'll it be?" He scanned the shelf. "Rapunzel, Sleeping Beauty, Little Mermaid...?"

She said in a quiet voice even though she knew that she was pushing her luck, "How about all of them?" Dean turned around slowly, one eyebrow raised. Emily sunk back into the bed at his look.

"We will read 2 short books, but you can pick them. What'll it be?"

Her lip stuck out in a pout but she was too tired to fight. "Rapunzel and Sleeping Beauty, please."

"Okay then." He grabbed the books, grimacing at the glitter on the covers. He pulled the covers up, tucking her in, then sat down next to her on the bed. He held the books out to her. "Alright. Which one first? Long hair or hangover?"

"What's a hangover?" she asked with curiosity at the new word.

Dean smirked. "Not important. Which one do you wanna read first, kiddo?"

But she was four years old and couldn't let things go just like that. "But what is it, Uncle Dean? Daddy's never said that word 'fore." She was deeply intrigued by this new word and now she had to figure out what it meant. It was her internal nerd coming out without anyone realizing.

"Uh- it means when someone is super sleepy. Like Sleeping Beauty. She's super sleepy, so she probably has a hangover. Make sense?" He smiled brightly at her, internally chuckling at the angry text he knew he'd be getting from Sam in the near future.

The little girl sighed loudly and admitted, "I think I gots a hangover."

Dean pressed his lips together, trying desperately not to laugh. He schooled his face into a serious look and bobbed his head a couple times as he smoothed back her hair. "Yes. You probably do. Sure fire cure for a hangover though- reading stories. Want to start with Hangover Girl?" He held up Sleeping Beauty.

She nodded her head wildly as she scooted in closer to him.

"Alright. Here we go." He cracked open the book. "Once upon a time, there was a king and queen who had a beautiful baby girl. They named her Aurora…" He continued reading and when he got to the part where Aurora fell into a deep sleep, he gave it his own twist. "And so, after pricking her finger on the needle thing, a hangover and fell into a deep sleep." He was so proud of himself right now.

Her brow furrowed up at the strange change in wording. She'd listened to this book so many times that she had it memorized. "I don't think you said the words right."

"What?" Dean acted surprised. "Oh. Oh I see. You're used to hearing the 'Daddy' version of the story. Well, see- this is the 'Uncle' version. Much cooler. More interesting. And probably more accurate." He looked down on her with his all-knowing look.

"Daddy reads it wrong?" She stared at him with wide blue eyes, like he was one "yes" away from turning her entire world upside down in the worst way, making her dad fall off the pedestal she had him on.

Dean didn't miss the slight note of hysteria in her voice and quickly amended his answer. "Nope. He has the dad version- I have the uncle version. His is perfect for him and I got my own perfect version. Make sense?" He was regretting doing this in the first place- he was honestly terrified that he was going to make her start crying again. "I can read it the way your dad does. You want me to?"

There was comfort in having the story read like her dad did it. She'd had a lot of change for one night, and she was starting to miss her dad even more. She answered quietly, "Yes please."

And that little voice broke Dean's heart. "Okay, kid. I'm sorry." He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. He reminded himself that he was not the kid here, and he needed to think about what was best for Emily. It was new territory for him- something he was going to think about a lot tonight. "She touched the spindle of the spinning wheel, and fell into a deep sleep." He looked at her. "Better?"

She nodded with a smile as she snuggled in closer to his side, her body language telling him that it was okay. She reached out and turned the page for him. "Look what happens now!" She pointed to the picture.

Dean finished off Sleeping Beauty and plowed through Rapunzel, with no more editorializing. He finished the story, then looked down at his niece. "Alright, Princess. Time to sleep."

Her eyes were only half open. She had started to doze off during the story, but quickly recovered, refusing to give in. She asked with a yawn, "When's Daddy coming home?"

Dean reminded, "He's going to be home later. You'll be asleep by then, but I'll make sure he comes in and kisses you good night, okay?" He brushed her hair back from her face.

Her eyes started to brim with silent tears, caused more from exhaustion than anything. "I want to wait for Daddy. No sleeping." Her blue eyes showed clear hints of sadness. She was still having a hard time wrapping her little mind around Sam not being there to tuck her in like he always was.

He tried to ignore the tears. "Yes, sleeping. Your dad won't be home for a couple hours yet. Time to lay down." He tried to use the same voice with her as he did with Sam when he was younger, but it wasn't as harsh. He waited to see if she'd obey.

She rubbed a tired fist in her eyes as the tears quietly came out. She whimpered a little bit to make sure her feelings were known.

To be honest, tears freaked Dean out. Hell, the kid could be faking it and he wouldn't know the difference—that was how much he knew about kids. Next to nothing outside of raising Sam. Dean heard that whimper and saw the tears, and he started to panic again. He came and sat on her bed next to her, stroking her cheek with one finger. "Hey, hey, hey. What's with the tears? What's the matter, Princess?"

Her heart warmed with the new nickname. However, she squeezed her wombat and Barbie closer. "I want Daddy here," she sniffled.

"I know, kid." He laid down on the bed, on his side, facing her. He didn't know what to do with a sad little girl except to go through this with her. "Remember- your dad won't be home for another couple hours, kiddo. He's taking his...friend out for ice cream, remember? It takes grown ups a couple of hours to cream."

"I can wait. I'll stay in bed and be real good." Her wet eyes glowed with hope that he'd magically say yes. She just needed a good night hug and the song that she and her dad always shared.

Dean blinked twice. Then he came up with a brilliant plan, or at least, he was hoping it was a brilliant plan. He turned off the lamp beside her bed, letting only the nightlight illuminate the room. "Okay. I'll stay with you." He laid on his back, one hand behind his head. He stayed silent, just staring at the dark ceiling.

They both remained silent for well over a minute, and just when Dean thought he had cracked the code on this one, his phone buzzed in his pocket. Emily immediately sat up at the sudden noise with excitement. "Is it Daddy?"

Dean pinched his eyes shut. Of course Sam would call at the worst time possible. It would have been impossible for Sam to go a whole night without checking in and see how things were going. He may have been on a date, but his mind was half occupied thinking of his daughter. Dean knew that it was going to be pointless to tell Emily that it wasn't him, because then she'd want to call Sam and if he said no, then the water works would start and he'd be back to square one. There was no winning, so he just went ahead and bit the bullet. "Yes."

She started reaching for his pocket to get his phone. "I want to talk to Daddy."

He immediately intercepted her small hands. "Hold up there, short stuff. You can talk to him in a minute." Dean pulled his phone out of his pocket and got up off the bed. He turned and pointed at Emily like she was a dog. "Stay."

Dean pressed the "answer" key and held the phone up to his ear as he opened the bedroom door in case he needed to step out. In a low pissed off tone, he said, "What, Sam?"

Emily scooted to the edge of her bed to try and listen.

"How's it going?" Sam tried to sound all casual.

"Fine. Go back to your date." He saw Emily at the end of the bed. He snapped his fingers at her and pointed to her bed, indicating that she better lay down post haste.

She quickly laid down on her stomach, so she could still stare at him. She asked quietly, "Dad?"

Sam's retired hunter's ears were still intact. "Is she still up?" There was concern in his voice, because it was well past her bedtime. "What happened?"

"You called. That's what happened," Dean snapped.

Hating that Dean wasn't answering her, she said louder this time, "Daddy!"

There was clear concern in Sam's voice now. "Just put her on."

Dean turned away from Emily and said through his teeth. "Dude- if I do that, you're going to be on the phone forever and your date is going to think you ditched her by jumping out the bathroom window."

Emily was now getting more agitated and frustrated that Dean wasn't giving her the phone. "I want Daddy!"

"This was obviously a bad idea...I'll wrap this up and be home soon, okay?" Sam reasoned.

Dean turned so his back was to the little girl and his voice became a harsh whisper. "No! No, Sam, it's This is what we're going to do. I'll put the kid on the phone, you tell her good night, she goes to sleep, you get back to your chick. Alright?"

Sam hesitated for a second, but eventually caved. "Okay, put her on."

Before Dean passed Emily the phone, he warned in a quiet voice that it was just a very quick call. Emily eagerly nodded and grabbed the phone and squealed into it. "Daddy! Are you coming home now? It's bedtime."

Sam felt his heart physically ache at not being there at bedtime. "I'm so sorry sweetheart. I'm still out with my friend. I promise I'll come see you when I come home."

Emily's face scrunched up in displeasure at not getting the answer she wanted. "But pleeeeease."

Dean knew Sam was instantly struggling to not run for his car. Sam swallowed and tried to stick it out. "Did you and Uncle Dean sing the song yet?" he asked, hoping to turn the conversation around. Emily shook her head.

"Em- he can't see you shaking your head." Dean was watching like a hawk, ready to snatch the phone out of her tiny hands at the first sign of trouble.

Her eyes went wide for a second like she had never thought of that. "No, he hasn't sing-ed the song yet."

"Oh? You haven't sung it yet? Well you will have to teach him, won't you?" Sam replied, trying to keep his tone positive.

Before he could say another word, she answered with hints of anger. "I don't wanna!"

Not wasting any time, Sam replied with a warning tone, "Emily...don't be like that. You like to sing."

She was on the verge of another meltdown from exhaustion. "No No Nooooo!"

Dean heard something about a song and jumped on that, desperate to get her to calm down and not have his brother think he didn't know how to care for her. He immediately sat down on the bed beside her. "Hey! Hey- what song? You have a song that you want to sing?" She rubbed her eyes as some tears fell.

Sam on the other end of the phone mumbled something inaudible as he saw his date coming back toward the table and then said louder, trying to get someone's attention on the other end. "Dean? Hey! Dean?"

Dean heard his name through the phone. He pulled Emily onto his lap and gently pried the phone from her hand. He knew this would probably cause a meltdown, so he said quickly, "I'm here. What's up?"

Emily continued to fuss and squirm at having the phone taken away. Sam talked as fast as he could to get it all out before his date arrived at the table. "Sing the twinkle twinkle little star song to her. But you better call me if she doesn't stop and I'll come home. Okay?"

Out of reflex, Dean instantly replied okay, even though it was a lie, and then Sam hung up to get back to his date. Dean looked at the now blank phone in horror. He imagined that Sam went through numerous tortures raising a child- but SINGING? Oh no. Oh HELL no. Then he looked down at his niece, still fussing and squirming out of frustration and exhaustion. And he knew what he had to do. He girded his loins like a man and went for it. He started to sing. "Twinkle, twinkle little I...wonder," he hesitated not even sure he was right, "…how I wonder what you are..." He eyed Emily to see if this was having any effect or if he was just making a giant jackass out of himself.

Her squirming had been cut in half. She looked up at him with curious blue eyes and said matter of factly, "You're not supposed to stop in the middle."

He saw that it was working and immediately felt his anxiety decrease. "Hey- I can't sing it alone. Can you help me? I really need your help, kid."

She rested her head on his shoulder but still pouted. "No, don't want to help no more."

"Okay. Okay." He took a deep breath and started over, "Twinkle Twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are." He freaked for a split second, but then remembered the rest of the words. "Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky. Twinkle, twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are." He looked down at Emily. "There. How was that?"

She sighed but didn't lift her tired head from his chest. Dean could tell that the fight was now draining out of her and she was giving into the sheer exhaustion. She responded with a yawn, "You didn't sing it. Daddy sings." Because to her, Dean was just saying the words instead of singing them like Sam always did.

"Okay, then, I'll sing it." He cuddled Emily in closer and gently rocked her a bit as he sang the entire song twice, low and gentle.

She was instantly calmed down and her eyes started to droop as she mumbled something incoherently. Dean continued gently rocking her and sang the song again, this time, even lower. Finally, her breathing evened out. However, when Dean went to move a slight inch to turn and try to put her down on the bed, she started to stir. She clasped a fistful of his shirt and snuggled in even closer to him, saying softly, "Daddy." Only this time, she wasn't crying out for him anymore but rather in her sleepy state, she thought that Dean was her dad right now.

Dean's breath caught in his throat. The innocence of her voice, the tiny hand clutching his shirt, and the knowledge that she felt protected enough by him to fall asleep in his arms- it was overwhelming. He gazed down at her sweet face, not wanting to move and spoil this beautiful moment. He never realized a moment like this could be beautiful. He lost track of how long he sat there, just watching her, because he was fascinated, watching her sleep peacefully. He finally realized that he needed to put her down, so he moved as gently as he could. Every flutter of movement from her made him stop and panic, but he eventually laid her down. Oh so carefully, he covered her with her blanket.

Emily was in too deep of a sleep to even notice that he had put her down on the bed. She was sleeping peacefully without another thought in her mind about her dad not being there.

Meanwhile, Sam couldn't focus on his date after that phone call, fearing the worst was happening at home—a screaming child was driving Dean to the edge. He finally caved and excused himself, so he could make a quick call again.

Dean was making sure that Emily's blanket was tucked in good around her, when his phone went off again. Dean jumped up, surprised, then clapped his hand over his pocket to try to muffle the vibration noise. Muttering a string of curses under his breath, he took off out of the room like someone just zapped his ass with a taser. He dove into Sam's room across the hall and quickly shut the door before pulling his phone out of his pocket. Of course Sam was calling again- being the freaking mother hen that he was. Dean pressed answer and hissed into the phone, "What?!"

Sam wasn't even fazed by Dean's harsh response. "How'd it go? Did you get her to calm down?"

Dean resisted the urge to break the first thing in this room that he could lay his hands on. All the tension and nerves he'd been feeling- all the pressure to make sure Emily was happy and okay, came pouring out. "Yes! I got her calmed down! And the second I finally got her tucked in, you called and almost woke her up again! Do you have any idea what I've just been through?! Do you know how hard that was?!" Dean suddenly stopped. He just became aware that he sounded like a hormonal woman right now. He froze. "Oh my god." He looked around, quickly. "Sam. Tell me you have alcohol somewhere in this house. I think I've forgotten how to be a man." He took off down the stairs and started rifling through the kitchen cabinets, looking for anything that was fermented.

Sam sighed heavily into the phone. "Top shelf above the fridge." He waited to hear the clanking of bottles to know that Dean found it. "I was worried about her, okay? And of course I know it's hard. I do it every single night, remember? Except..." His voice dropped off as a wave of sadness took over, realizing this was the first night he wouldn't tuck her in, but he couldn't bring himself to finish his sentence, the guilt weighing heavily on him.

Dean stopped chugging the bottle of Jack when he heard Sam trail off. He finished the sentence for him. "...except for tonight. Hey- Sam- look. I get it. As much as I can, I get it. But you needed to get out tonight, man. Emily's okay. You're okay. You did the right thing. Get back to your date- I'm holding down the fort here. We're both going to need a drink when you get home, so I won't finish off the bottle." He took a swig. "We're going to be okay, Sammy."

Sam was slightly taken off guard by his brother's last comment. He would never admit it but it was just what he needed to hear to calm him down...this was fine. Emily was in good hands and was sleeping peacefully. He was on a date...trying to put himself out there again. And he finally felt a new hope that things were going to start looking up again. "Yeah, I think we will be, too."