The tension in the car was tangible.

"What did you say to me... when I was the one who choked? What did you say about Amy? 'You kill the monster!' ", Sam said angrily.

"I was going to!", Dean protested.

"Oh, the hell you were! You think I'm an idiot?"

"What, you think I am?"

"Dean, you were gonna let her walk!"

Dean sneered.

"No, I wasn't. That's ridiculous!"

Sam breathed in. He seemed to think of the best way to say what he had in mind. He spoke softly.

"Look man. She wasn't yours. Not really."

Dean turned his face to the window. That hurt.

She wasn't yours.

Wasn't his.

The daughter that Dean hadn't known about before a few hours ago.

The daughter he hadn't planned, hadn't even known he wanted.

The daughter he had seen as a baby for what, 5 whole minutes and that he hadn't even hold in his arms.

The daughter he knew was not human, was dangerous, was born to kill him.

The daughter he hadn't had a say in naming.

Emma.

Emma, who was already 16.

Emma, who had her mother's hair, fair skin and captivating beauty.

Emma, who had his eyes, his lips and his charm.

Emma, who was part Winchester. Part him.

She was right, she wouldn't have been born if it hadn't been for him. He gave her existence, DNA, a part of his very own being. And he wished to God he had had the chance to give her his love.

He would have loved her unconditionally. Part monster or not. He would have helped her, saved her, raised her.

Sam was right. He hesitated. He was gonna let her live. He knew he shouldn't have. But every time he had looked into her eyes, it had hit him in the guts. He couldn't hurt her. He already loved her. It was beyond his control.

Who would have known. Dean Winchester, one of the greatest hunters of the country, fond of his monster offspring.

What would his dad have said?

Dean already knew the answer. The truth is John would have killed his granddaughter in a second, even quicker than Sam did.

Emma was one of the very things they had been hunting their whole life. But at the same time, she seemed so normal. Human. After all, she had been conceived as naturally as possible.

Dean was her father. She was his baby girl.

She was his. His. His.

Couldn't Sam understand that?

Dean answered calmly, stating what both his heart and mind had been telling him since the beginning.

"Actually, she was, really.'