Hey Hey Hey! Here's Part 2!

You guys completely overwhelmed me with your response to part 1. From the bottom of my heart, thank you. I wish I could send you all a billion dollars, because that's what you make me feel like. I want to write what you want to read, so keep those requests coming!

Special shout out to the best beta in the world, Jenmm31. Tell your friends how awesome she is, because she is :) Happy Birthday to Auntie JEN from Natalie!

A/N- This is part 2 of a three part story. If you haven't already, go back and read the previous chapter, otherwise this ain't gonna make a lick of sense. Please see Profile page for disclaimer.

Sam just stared at the paper lying on the table between them. Dean's head was bowed, looking at the floor, while his arms rested on the table. He had a firm grip on the cold bottle in his hand, though. Sam's mind ran around and around, but he couldn't seem to tear his eyes away from that paper. Match- Positive. Two words and the Winchester brothers had been rendered catatonic.

Finally, after another two minute long silence, Sam still couldn't find the words. "Dean..." he whispered. To which his brother responded simply by shaking his head. Sam stared at the paper again."Everything in your life is about to change," Sam said quietly.

"No kidding," Dean snorted. Sam picked up the paper again. There was absolutely no mistaking it. There was no chance it was faked. The DNA test was positive.

"Dude- you're-"

"A father."

"Yeah."

"Yeah."

Silence. Sam placed the paper down gently, as if he expected it to blow up upon impact with the table. He got up and pulled himself a beer out of the fridge. He turned and leaned up against the kitchenette counter. "So. Where do we go now? What do we do from here?" he asked bluntly. Dean finally lifted his head up and turned to look at his brother. Sam expected to see anger, rage, panic, or even Dean's typical stoic face- the one he always pulled out of his back pocket when he didn't want to deal with whatever emotional freefall was directly in front of him.

Instead, he saw acceptance.

Dean threw his hands up in a casual shrug. "Now," he began, dropping his hands onto his lap, "now we figure out how to do this with a baby in tow."

Sam was beyond stunned. Between the life changing event dropped in his lap, Dean's attitude, and now those words, he felt like someone was pulling a massive prank on him. There was no way Dean was serious. Sam couldn't do anything more than blink a couple times stupidly at Dean. "W-what?" he finally stammered out.

Cool as a cucumber, Dean repeated himself. "I said, we figure out how to hunt with a kid. Dad figured it out. We can too."

Sam openly laughed. It was the only thing he felt like he could do with the absurdity of the moment. "No, Dean, Dad didn't figure it out," he said with a touch of bitterness in his voice.

"What do you call us then? I mean, I know I defy all laws of awesome, and you're pretty okay too, but we didn't do it alone."

Sam paced angrily up to Dean, who reared back when he saw his moose of a brother charging him. "Dad drug us into this life! Do you think this is what Mom would have wanted for us? Huh? To be raised out of a suitcase, dragged from town to town, barely getting a decent education?" The small part of Sam that was still rational knew that this wasn't the major issue, but it was the only one he could find an argument for right now. Arguing while trying to figure out the feels of a situation was one of the things Sam did best.

Dean looked back at Sam coolly. "Well, thanks to that yellow eyed bastard, we'll never know what Mom would have wanted, now will we?" At that, Sam slammed his beer bottle back down onto the counter, turning away from Dean. "Dad kept us together- as a family. He did the best he could, and you know that. Now I'm sorry that you didn't ever feel that- I'm sorry that you couldn't see that keeping what was left of our family together while trying to revenge our family was what was best for all of us."

"Best for all of us?!" Sam practically shouted, whipping around to face Dean again. "Dean, it nearly tore us apart! And it's continuing to! Dad died to keep you from going to Hell! YOU died to bring me back! I died to trap Lucifer in his cage! You really think any of that would have happened if we had just moved to another town and tried to live a normal life after mom died?!"

Dean stood firm. "Yes. I do."

That brought Sam up short. "What the hell do you mean?" he said, smoke practically coming out of his nostrils.

"I mean that Azazel would have come for you the second you started up with the headaches and the visions. And Dad would have laid down his life to save YOU." That comment hit Sam between the eyes. He had never stopped to consider that before.

"Why...what makes you say that?" Sam said quietly, his rage dispersing as he considered Dean's words. A flash of pain crossed Dean's face. Sam stared again as Dean struggled for the words. He put his hands on his hips, looked at the ground, and seemed to take a deep breath before lifting his head up again.

"Because- I get it now."

"Get what?"

"Sammy- I felt it. I get it. I know what Dad felt. I have...I have a daughter. And I felt what it feels like to need to protect your child." At those quietly spoken words, all the fight drained out of Sam. He just stood, looking at Dean in an entirely new way. Dean continued speaking. "I...after I dropped Jamie off, I went and took a walk. Just needed to clear my head and think, you know? But while I was out there, guess who showed up." Sam couldn't do anything but shrug. "Aredon."

"The- the demon who was after Jamie the last time?" Sam said, surprised as all hell. Dean nodded.

"Yup. Somehow, Crowley heard it through the grapevine that we were back in town, so he pulled him up from hell, popped him in a meat suit, and dropped him in the middle of a freaking park."

"Whoa."

"Yeah, no shit. He attacked me."

Sam's already overtaxed brain nearly took a nosedive on hearing that. "Are you hurt?" was the only thing he could blurt out.

"Yeah, Sam. I'm lying in a pool of my own blood on the jogging trail," Dean quipped sarcastically. He rolled his eyes and continued. "I was just out walking- minding my own damn business. This guy jumped me just because I was once on his radar." He let that comment linger in the air. Sam was smart- he'd come to the same conclusion that Dean had. He watched as Sam put the pieces together and began to nod his head.

"Well, then- I think there's only one thing to do," Sam said slowly. Dean nodded his head, glad that Sam was on board.

"We figure it out," Dean said.

"We put her up for adoption," Sam said.

Dean's face contorted into a mask of pure shock. He stared at Sam, his jaw hitting the floor. The silence stretched between the brothers. The tension in the room became even thicker as both boys stared at each other, trying to figure out how the other one had come to that conclusion.

The moment was frozen in time, neither one knowing how to break it. Finally after an eternity of staring blankly at each other, Dean suddenly lunged forward and grabbed Sam by the collar. In his eyes was a burning rage that Sam had never seen before, and it scared him.

"Don't you ever- EVER- say that to me again. You understand?" Dean hissed right in his brother's face. Poor Sam's over exhausted brain couldn't do anything more than stutter out an apology.

"I'm sorry," he mumbled. Dean let go of Sam's shirt with a small shove. Sam bit his lip to keep from saying something that he didn't mean. Once he regained his footing, he took a deep breath.

"Dean, all I meant was….."

"Sam, I don't want to hear it," Dean warned, whipping back around, the fire still burning in his eyes. Sam held up his hands as if pumping the brakes.

"Dude. She's going to be in danger if she stays with us," Sam said quietly, cutting right to the chase.

"She's going to be in danger if she's NOT with us, Sam, weren't you listening?! What if Crowley comes for her next time? Huh? Or Meg? Or-" Dean's face suddenly blanched. "Alistair."

Sam watched the blood drain out of his face, and for one brief second, he could see into his brother's mind. Dean was painfully aware of what Alistair could do to a human. Alistair was the bastard that had tortured Dean in hell for thirty years. It was one thing to be tortured, yourself, but to think about your child going through it….Sam's stomach wretched at the thought, so he knew it was a thousand times worse for Dean. Dean just shook his head.

"Sam, she's mine. This kid is mine. And I'm going to do whatever it takes because I'm the reason she's here. If that means figuring out how to hunt with a baby in tow, then that's what I'm going to do. If it means eventually giving up hunting and leaving that lifestyle altogether, then fine. But I will not- I repeat- WILL NOT- walk out on her. Never."

Sam spoke gently. "Adoption isn't walking out, Dean. It's putting your child's needs ahead of your own when-"

"When what? You gonna say that I can't take care of her? Is that it?"

"Dean, we're hunters. We don't know the first thing about taking care of babies."

"So we learn! Did you expect there to be a 'how to raise a kid' manual handed out with the DNA test? Nobody knows, Sam. You learn."

"Dean, we don't have time to figure this out. This baby is going to be here in a matter of days."

"I'm a fast learner."

"What does Jamie think about all this? Are you going to try to convince her that a baby should be on the road, living with hunters? Is she gonna come, too?"

Dean held up his hand. "Not dealing with that right now. I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. The kid gets born first, then we hammer out details."

"Dean-"

"Sam. Just stop. This is happening, okay? And believe it or not, I could really use your support on this." At that confession, Sam's surprised eyes swung to Dean's. "I know, I typically don't ask for help. But Sam-" he could see the change in his brother's demeanor. It was almost like Dean was begging. "Sammy- I …..this is my shot, okay?"

"What do you mean, 'your shot'?" Sam asked cautiously.

Dean took a deep breath. "This is my shot to get it right." Sam's eyes got as wide as saucers. Dean continued speaking. "I screw up all the time, man. With you, with Bobby, with Dad when he was alive. I want- I need someone in our family to know I'm not a failure."

Sam shook his head, trying to follow Dean's train of thought. "Dean, you are NOT a failure-" he began, but Dean interrupted.

"Don't give me that crap, Sam. I have screwed up on a global level, and we both know it." Suddenly Sam saw the situation reversed. He had been so inwardly focused on his own problems and issues, that he had forgotten Dean's propensity to take everything on himself as well and ride the guilt train until it crashed. He suddenly understood that Dean was feeling responsible for the apocalypse, himself- about all the people he hadn't been able to save. He was all too familiar with that feeling. Dean continued. "This kid is my chance to say, hey- I'm not a screw up. I can get something right."

"Dean, you can't put that kind of pressure on yourself. And that's not a good reason to keep a child."

"How about the fact that I already love her more than my own life? Is that a good reason? The fact that I can already tell you I'm willing to die for her?" Dean shot back. "She needs me. She's gonna need- look, we both know what it's like to grow up without a mom. I'm not going to let my little girl grow up knowing what it's like to not have a dad."

Sam just stared at his brother. Dean's absolution on this was so unswerving, he felt the sheer, raw power of it in his words. So Sam did the only thing he could- the thing his brother needed him to do. He nodded his head.

"Alright."

SPN SPN SPN

Three days later, Dean was in the position he never, ever thought he'd be in. A hospital room- with his child being born. Jamie had gone into labor last night, but waited until her contractions were five minutes apart to call and wake Dean. Dean had immediately gone into work mode, pulling his boots on. He had gone to sleep fully dressed, just in case this very thing happened. Within a matter of moments that felt like an eternity to him, he screeched to a stop at Jamie's house, threw all the overnight bags, baby bags, car seats and all that other crap into the Impala, and practically shredded Baby's tires getting to the hospital. They had been checked into a room with irritating soft pink walls. Dean had been getting ice chips, pacing, and trying to help Jamie breathe. And still, the baby hadn't made her appearance yet.

Jamie had been in labor for 12 hours at that point, and Dean couldn't help himself. He looked at the nurse who was checking Jamie's vitals. "So- how long until this kid pops out?" he asked point blank. He turned to a less- than-amused Jamie and, seeing the look on her face, immediately began to back track. "I mean- I'm just…this is really hard."

"Oh. So sorry that this is hard for YOU," Jamie growled, her hands gripping the sheets as her contraction passed.

"No- I….I didn't mean that! I'm sorry. I just…this sucks," Dean finished lamely. "I hate seeing you in this

kind of pain," he murmured, worried that this statement would upset her more. To his surprise, the comment seemed to touch her. She gave a weak smile.

"Dean, don't worry about that. I can handle the pain, okay? I can-" she cut off with a gasp as another contraction hit. Dean jumped up next to her.

"Damn- they're coming faster now, aren't they?" he said in a panicky voice. Jamie couldn't do anything but nod as she concentrated on breathing. "Okay! So…Okay. Okay. Okay," Dean said in a rush, standing up and pacing. The nurse looked over at him like he was an idiot.

"First time father, huh?" she said to Jamie, who just nodded grimly through the pain. The nurse rolled her eyes, which annoyed Dean to no end. As the contraction was easing up, the nurse left to go get the doctor. Dean scowled at her back as she exited the room, then his focus shifted back to Jamie.

"Do you want some more of those ice things?" he asked, almost breathlessly.

"No, I'm okay," she said, laying back against the pillow with her eyes closed.

"You're sweating a lot."

"No kidding."

"Do you want me to…do something about that?"

Jamie looked at him as if he had just sprouted two heads. "What the hell does that mean?!" she said loudly, tired of his clumsiness. Dean backed away from her, just in case she started throwing things.

"Like- a washcloth, or something? I don't know…." he trailed off. Jamie felt guilty. He really was just trying to help, and was completely out of his depth. To be honest, when it wasn't maddening, it was kind of cute to watch him twist in the wind. She held out her hand to him, while leaning her head back against the pillow and closing her eyes again. He tentatively stepped forward and took it.

"You're here. That's enough," she whispered. As much as she meant that to soothe and calm him, it bothered him. He WASN'T doing enough. For crap's sake- his kid was about to make her grand entrance into this world, and all he could do was get ice chips and washcloths and BE there? It wasn't enough for him.

Just then, the doctor walked in. Dean watched as she exchanged a few words with Jamie; none of which he heard. He found himself staring at her distended stomach again. C'mon kid, hop to it, he found himself silently saying to his unborn child. Winchesters like to get going, okay? So get the lead out. I want to meet you.

"Alright Jamie! Are you ready to push?"

Dean's ears started working right at that moment. "What?! Now? You- What?! Now?!" Dean spluttered out in a rush.

Jamie just gripped his hand tighter, and in response to Dean's mini freak-out, said, "Oh, HELL yes."

"Alright then- here we go- PUSH!"

The next couple minutes were an absolute blur to Dean. Between the sounds of Jamie's cries, her squeezing his hand so hard he thought the bones would shatter, and the undeniable fact that his life was changing at this exact moment, Dean's mind took all of it in and turned it to a big pile of mush. For years, he tried to reconstruct the next few minutes in his memory, never quite being able to do so. However, the next lucid moment was one he'd never forget.

He saw his daughter for the first time.

To be honest, the first moment he saw her, he panicked. What the hell was all that crap all over her? Why did she look like a blue lump of cheese? Was something wrong? The nurse stuck something that looked like a tiny turkey baster into the baby's mouth, and a second later, Dean heard his daughter's voice for the first time. She loudly announced her arrival. Dean moved to see her better, but the nurse whisked her away quickly, laying her down on a nearby mat and starting to get all that weird looking crap off her. Dean swung around to Jamie, his mouth open, a look of shock, panic, and joy in his eyes.

"Is she okay?" Jamie whispered, still breathing heavily from the exertion.

"Yeah- I think so?" he answered back, finding that he was having just as much trouble breathing as she was. Just then, the nurse came over to them, holding a bundle of cloth with something pink sticking out of the top. With another jolt, Dean realized- it was her. She was here. She was actually here and breathing and right in this room. His daughter was here.

The nurse gently laid her down on Jamie's chest. Jamie's shaking hands gently cupped the baby's head and body. The infant was so little that Jamie's hands could have easily touched each other. Dean watched as the tears began pouring out of Jamie's eyes, her mouth formed a perfect little "oh", and she almost began to glow. His heart skipped a beat as he watched the mother of his child kiss her daughter for the first time. She let out a stunned little laugh, then turned her watery, joyous eyes to Dean.

"Dean- look," she said, almost absurdly, as Dean had eyes for nothing but the two of them in that moment. "She's here," Jamie said, her excited whisper triumphant. Dean just nodded his head and swallowed hard. He couldn't tear his eyes away from that little tiny baby. He helped make that. She was a real, live person- and she was his. He felt a rush of pride, of terror, of joy, of protectiveness, and of love that completely overwhelmed him; to the point where he had no words. He leaned forward and kissed Jamie's sweaty forehead, since he couldn't speak.

After a few moments of the new parents gazing in awe at their baby, Dean finally found words. "Hey," he said, afraid to speak in more than a whisper for some odd reason. "Do you- did you pick out a name for this kiddo yet?"

Jamie nodded, and lifted her eyes from her daughter to look Dean in the face. "I did- if that's okay," she said hesitantly. Dean just nodded again.

"What is it?" he asked cautiously, afraid it was going to be something super weird or hard to spell.

"It's Natalie. Natalie Grace," Jamie whispered. "Is that alright?"

"Natalie," Dean said. "Natalie." He said the name a few times out loud. A common name that he had heard all his life suddenly took on new meaning. He found himself loving how it sounded, the way it rolled out of his mouth. It sounded strong and feminine, all at the same time. He turned to Jamie with a grin. "I love it, sweetheart."

Jamie smiled, relieved. "I'm so glad," she murmured, cuddling her daughter again. She suddenly looked at Dean. "Do you want to hold her?"

Dean panicked. What if he dropped her? What if she started screaming the second he touched her? What if he hurt her, somehow? Her freaking fingers were so tiny, he could accidentally push one of them and break her whole hand. But, more than anything, he wanted to try. He had to trust himself not to hurt her. Just follow your instincts, Winchester. You'll know what to do, his common sense whispered again. He nodded, and, with a deep breath, stood up. His hands acted of their own accord- like they knew what they were doing all along. They gently reached down, making sure her head was supported, and cupped his other hand around her body. She fit perfectly into his hands, like she'd been built for that exact

reason. With that feeling roaring proudly in his chest, he lifted his daughter into his arms.

Amazingly, the baby didn't scream. She didn't cry out or anything. Dean was sure that counted as a minor miracle. He found himself gazing at the tiny, squished up, red face in wonder. He had never felt anything like this before. He didn't even have the words to accurately describe it. And the strength behind the feeling was astronomical. He liked it. "Hi, Natalie," he whispered to the tiny bundle in his arms. "I'm your daddy, kiddo."

The baby turned towards the sound of his voice and smiled.

Stay tuned for Part 3 :) Love you guys