Disclaimer: The characters of Supernatural do not belong to me. The original character of Evelyn Winchester does.

A/N: Holy cow, y'all! Halfway to 100! Thanks for helping encourage me to get this far. And don't worry; I still have plenty of ideas ;). While this story here focuses on Dean/John/Evy, the next one is Sam/Evy. Enjoy!

Never before had John wished so badly that one of his children would misbehave.

The problem, of course, was that it just wasn't in Evy's nature to misbehave. Where Sam had been rebellious, she was submissive. Where Sam had been outspoken, she was quiet. When Sam would explode, John would have a reason to get upset, to snap at him, to come down hard on him. But for the last six days, ever since Sam had walked out the door to go to Stanford, Evy had been even quieter than normal. She would daydream, staring off into space, and seemed to be barely restraining herself from crying. John was waiting for her to start crying. He knew it made him a bastard, but if Evy started crying, he'd finally have half an excuse to scold her and take at least some of his frustration out on something. He remembered well the words he'd told her five days earlier, when she'd been crying for Sam for nearly twelve hours straight.

Enough! Sam is gone, and there's nothing you can do about it. Keep crying and I'll give you a reason to cry.

Of course, as was her nature, Evy had done nothing other than sniffle, quietly say 'Yes, sir. Sorry, Daddy', and blow her nose. Ever since, she'd been writing or drawing in that notebook, one of what felt like hundreds that Sam had given her. Digging deep, John realized exactly what it was about Evy now that he found so frustrating. She hadn't smiled in over a week. Ever since Sam had announced he was leaving. Ever since the fight where John had told him that if he left, he wasn't to come back. She was just so sad, and it pissed John off. If anyone had the right to be upset or angry right then, it was him. John tried to chase all those thoughts out as he walked into the house, the alcohol he'd drunk at the bar already beginning to lose its effectiveness.

John walked in to find Evy spread out on the coffee table. Her journal was on one end of the table, her box of broken and whole crayons in front of her, and a notebook. She was drawing in the notebook, and was so focused on what she was doing that her tongue stuck out of one side of her mouth and she didn't hear John come in. Good a time as any, John thought, slamming the door so loud behind him that it rattled in the doorframe. Evy jumped and stared at her father with wide, frightened eyes.

"Hi, Daddy." She said cautiously.

"Didn't I tell you to always pay attention to everything going on around you?" John barked.

"S…Sorry, sir." Evy stuttered.

John had prepared an entire lecture, but the growing headache made it hard for him to focus enough to do it. "Just don't do it again."
"Yes, sir."

"What are you doing?" John asked.

"Just colorin'." Evy answered.

John's anger and frustration overrode his brain yet again. "It's too much of a distraction. You need to start training."
"Yes, sir." Evy answered quietly. "I'll put it away."

Evy started to pick up her things, and John got a glimpse at the picture she had been working on. In the middle was a heart, with two arrows coming out of the left and right side. The arrow on the left was pointing to a tall stick figure wearing a green shirt and brown jacket, and the one on the right was pointing to a smaller stick figure wearing a blue summer dress. On the bottom was a note that read 'Love you Sammy xoxo Cricket'. John felt his headache get slightly worse, and he finally lost his patience with Evy's pining for Sam.

"Evelyn Abigail, I'm only going to tell you this one more time. Stop crying for Sam."

Confused, Evy stopped picking up her crayons. "Daddy?"
"You heard what I said."
"I…But…I wasn't crying." Evy feebly argued.

"Don't talk back to me, little girl." John snapped. "Do you understand me?"
"Daddy, I'm sorry. Please don't yell at me."
"Don't…" John couldn't believe Evy's gall. "I'll show you yelling, little girl." He moved quickly, gathering up Evy's journal, her crayons, and snatching the notebook out of her hand.

"Daddy?" Evy asked, scared and unable to stoop her shaking voice now. "What are you doing?"

With no remorse at all, John took everything in his hands and threw it into the kitchen garbage bag.

"Daddy, please don't…" Evy begged, tears now starting to flow down her cheeks. "I was gonna send that to Sammy."
He had to stoop down to do it, but John grabbed Evy's arm hard enough she was wincing from the pain. "I won't say it again. You need to make yourself understand. Sam is gone. He is no longer a member of this family."
"No! Daddy, that's not true." Evy said, pushing at his arm, even though she was no match for her much bigger and stronger father.

"Don't argue with me. Sam left me, Dean, and you. If he cared about us, he would never have left."
"THAT'S NOT TRUE!" Evy shouted, angry and not caring anymore about getting in trouble with him. "That's not true, Sammy still cares about me."

John's hand squeezed tighter around Evy's arm, making her whimper in pain and squeal 'ow', and he was just about to say something else when…

"DAD! Let her go!"

John was so startled at the sudden and unexpected intruder that he dropped Evy's arm. Later he would realize just how hypocritical it truly was to yell at Evy for not paying attention to her surroundings when he was doing the same. It was, of course, not an intruder, but Dean, and the second John's fingers were off her arm, she ran to Dean sobbing. Dean picked her up and held her, shushing her and rubbing her back to try and calm her down.

"It's okay, baby girl. I got you." Dean glared at John over Evy's shoulder. "What happened?"
"Dean…"
"Where's your coloring stuff, kiddo?" When Evy's crying picked up in intensity, Dean put the pieces together. "Dad, you should take a walk."

"Dean, watch your tone, boy." John growled.

"Dad, take a walk yourself or I take one with her. Take your pick." Dean said.

John was pissed at being told what to do, but the look on Dean's face made him think twice about commenting on it again. Evy clung to Dean's neck, shaking and weeping. Dean sat down with her on the raggedy old chair that had come with the house, rocking her and whispering to her things like 'It'll be okay' and 'I've got you, baby girl'. John glared at them for a moment, then picked up the garbage bag where he'd thrown Evy's journal, notebook, and crayons away and headed towards the truck.

The next few minutes were a blur. John wasn't completely sober, but like a hawk closing in on its prey, he found another bar. He parked the truck and started to head inside, when he suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to look at Evy's journal and notebook. He was grateful as he pulled them out that he had used a new bag. He started with the journal. On the front cover was written her name, 'Evy Winchester', and various drawings of smiley faces, balloons, and polka dots. He flipped open the journal and what anger he was feeling immediately started to be replaced by guilt. Rather than the date headings that John expected to see, there were prompts. He recognized them as being written in Sam's writing. When John started to read Evy's answers to two of the prompts, he felt sick to his stomach.

What makes you sad?

It makes me sad when no matter how good I try to be, Daddy still yells at me or makes me feel bad.

It makes me sad that I can't tell Daddy when I'm sad or unhappy because he'll just tell me to stop crying or get over it. With Sammy gone, I feel like I can't talk to anybody. Dean tries to help, but he's so busy with working and keeping Daddy from yelling at me too much that it's hard to get any time with him.

It makes me sad that I don't have a mommy to talk to when Daddy makes me feel sad. And now I don't have a brother to talk to either. I'm all alone.

What makes you happy?

It makes me happy when Daddy hugs me without me having to ask for it, or when he'll tell me he loves me and I can see he means it.

Son of a bitch, John thought. What kind of bastard does it take when all my eight-year-old wants is for me to hug her and tell her that I love her? He knew the answer. It made him a huge bastard. Suddenly, John's need to drink was gone, replaced with an overwhelming urge to go home and hug and kiss Evy until she couldn't stand it anymore. On the way, he made a stop and purchased some items he would need to make up for what he'd done. Checking the clock, he saw that it was nearing Evy's bedtime, so he quickly threw the truck in reverse and hightailed it back home.

When he walked inside, Dean was coming out of the small back room that, until a week earlier, had belonged to both her and Sam. He left the door carefully ajar, and almost slammed into John as he started to walk back towards the living room. Guess we all need a refresher course, John thought, then instantly felt ashamed. Dean was focusing on undoing the mess he'd created earlier. Instead of the harsh scolding he'd planned on, John asked softly,

"Is she okay?"

"Yes, sir. I just put her to sleep. After I iced down her arm." Though Dean's tone only held the slightest hint of anger, his eyes reminded John of a lion whose cubs were in danger.

"How bad is she hurt?" John asked.

"Bad enough she didn't want to talk to Sam when he called." Dean said. "I was about to call Bobby."
John would never admit it out loud, but he panicked. "Dean, please don't."
Four years earlier, Bobby and Dean had both threatened to take Evy from him if his rough treatment of her didn't come to a screeching and abrupt halt. It had happened on a night much like tonight. Sam had run away, and after getting jealous of the bond she shared with Sam, John had spanked Evy hard and slapped her in the face by accident. The incident had left Evy terrified of him, and even though she'd forgiven him, it had damaged their relationship from that point forward. She was scared to approach him, even to say hello. And the events of earlier in the evening had certainly made the problem worse.

"Dad, you can't keep doing this." Dean said. "I know you're not happy that Sam's gone. But she didn't do it. She's trying to deal with it just like we are."

"I know."
"Did you know that I had to talk Sam out of taking her with him? No I wish I hadn't." When John didn't respond, Dean continued. "She wrote in that journal because she's afraid to talk to you. Is that what you want?"

"No. It isn't. I just…It's hard to talk about it." John said. "I have to take it on something."

"So go grab a pillow and hit it. Or do push ups. Or go find an evil son of a bitch to kill. Anything that doesn't involve yelling at baby girl and making her feel like crap." Dean said. "Dad, she takes everything you say and do to heart. She's trying so hard to just make you happy."

"I know." John said. When Dean raised a skeptical eyebrow, John replied, "I do. Please just don't call Bobby."
Dean sighed. "We go to Bobby's tomorrow. She's still got two weeks before school starts. I won't tell him, but if you do something like this again, especially while we're there, it's all up to Bobby."
"Agreed." John said. "Thank you, Dean."

"Dad, please calm down. I don't want…" Dean paused, as if the weight fo what he wa s about to say was too much.

"Don't want what, Dean?"
"I don't want to lose her, too."
Like you lost Sam, John thought. The unspoken accusation hung heavy in the air between them. John was just about to respond when he heard something.

"Daddy?"
Evy was standing in the doorway, rubbing sleep out of her eyes. She was wearing one of Dean's tshirts, which draped almost to her feet. She walked towards Dean and stood beside him, wrapping an arm around his leg, while Dean gently ran his fingers through her hair.
"What are you doing up, kiddo?" Dean asked.

"I heard you two talking." Evy said, her eyes never leaving John's face. "You came back."
Another needle shot through John's heart and soul at the pure astonishment on Evy's face. "Yes, I did. I came to talk to you."

Evy released Dean's leg and gripped his hand. "About what?"
John almost wept at the fact that she needed Dean's support just to have a conversation with him. "Will you come to the living room with me? Please?"

Evy squeezed Dean's hand and looked up. "You'll come too, right?"

"You bet I will, kiddo." Dean said. "Let's go."
Once they were seated, John on the couch and Evy in Dean's lap, John spotted it. On Evy's right arm, five dark colored spots that perfectly matched his fingers. Bruises, John thought, fighting the urge to vomit. He really had gripped her harder than he realized. The thought of what could have happened if Dean hadn't come home when he did surfaced, but John banished it.

"Little one, I'm sorry about earlier." John said. "I know I hurt you, and I'm so, so sorry."

Evy seemed shocked at the apology and looked down at the floor.

"I brought you something to show you I mean it."

John handed Evy the bag from Kmart. Evy looked inside it and gasped. She pulled out her notebook and journal. But the biggest surprise was at the bottom of the bag. A brand new box of 120 crayons, a box of 64 markers, and a third box filled with 100 colored pencils. There was also a sketchbook, a few new notebooks, and a box to keep them all in.

"What's all this for?" Evy asked. "I thought you said it was a waste."
"It's not if it makes you happy." John answered. "Or at least helps you be less sad."

"Daddy? I'm sorry if I did anything that made you mad." Evy said.

"You didn't, little one. I wasn't mad at you. I was mad at myself and…"

"What, Daddy?" Evy asked.

"I'm sad, little one." John admitted. "I miss Sammy too. And I don't always know how to say it, so it comes out like I'm mad. Does that make sense?"

"I think so." Evy said. She looked back into the bag and smiled. "Thank you for my new coloring stuff."

"You're welcome, little one." When Evy yawned, John suggested, "Why don't you go to bed?"
"Yes, sir." After a quick hug and kiss with Dean, Evy pulled a page out of her notebook and handed it to John. "I made this for you. To keep in your pocket while you hunt."

John looked at the drawing and smiled. It was a rainbow, with a note below it that read 'Love you, Daddy. -Evy'.

"I know there's a lot of scary stuff when you're on the road. I thought you'd like something pretty to look at for when you're not having a good day." Evy explained.

"It's beautiful, little one." John said sincerely. "Thank you."
"Daddy? I heard Deanie say we were going to uncle Bobby's tomorrow. Will you do something with me before we go?"

"What is it?" John asked.
Evy held up the bag. "Draw with me?"

John had trouble expressing his feelings. He had trouble talking without barking orders. He had trouble connecting on a meaningful level with any of his kids. But spend an hour drawing? Especially when it would make his kid happy? That he could do. That he had no trouble with.

"I can do that, little one."
Evy's grin immediately transported John back nearly ten years, to Sam being nine and finding out he was having a baby brother or sister. Evy looked so much like Sam when she smiled that it made John's heart ache for his baby boy all over again.

"Love you, Daddy."

"I love you too, little one. Go on, go back to bed." After Evy was asleep, John walked in and kissed her cheek. "Good night, little one. Daddy loves you."