I ran down the stairs of my dad's house, yelling as I clamored down. "Daddy? Do you know where I put my-" I stopped at the bottom when I realized he had company. That would explain the loud motors I'd heard while packing, I thought. My gaze ran over a guy a little younger than me, another guy around my age, and then HIM. Shit. I took a breath and realized that my dad was glaring at the three of them and hadn't even glanced my way. Thank God.

"Daddy?" I called again, noticing that none of them had heard or noticed me. Suddenly four pairs of eyes were on me and I felt a little bit uncomfortable with the attention. "Um, hey." I gave a small wave, praying that John had the common sense to pretend we'd never fucking met before. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt you." I stood on the third stair from the bottom. "I just need to know if you've seen my flip flops?" It was lame, but the truth, and I could feel John's smirk from where I stood even without glancing at his face.

"Daddy?" The older of the two younger men whispered at my dad. "Bobby, there something you haven't told us?"

I bit my lip, my dad's glare clearly not for me. "Shut up, you idjit." He growled and smiled at me. "Sweetheart, I think you left them outback." I nodded and smiled. "These guys just came to watch the football game with me, guess they forgot to CALL." His glare returned to the source of his ire.

"Thanks," I grinned, thinking that whatever John Winchester and the other two men were actually here for, they would definitely be getting an earful.

I jogged down the last three stairs and ran through the house to the back door. Letting it shut behind me, I looked around the back stoop, and sure enough there they were. Grabbing them, I considered waiting to let my dad give his visitors the tongue-lashing he wanted to. After all, I knew precisely how much he hated people just showing up on his doorstep without calling first. Not that he'd get pissed at me, but when other people turned up while I was visiting, he'd lose his shit. To put it politely.

Waiting until I felt that Dad had no doubt got most of it out of his system, I opened the back door and listened. I couldn't hear anything, but I nearly jumped out of my skin when I felt arms wrap around my waist and pull me tight against a hard chest. "Shh," I felt his hot breath beside my ear, so I knew he was leaning over me. Jesus, John Winchester would be the fucking death of me. "Hey," his voice, deep and smooth rolled over me as I relaxed for a moment in his arms. "Why didn't you tell me who your dad is?"

I rolled my eyes. "One, I didn't know you knew my dad, John. And two, you should probably let me go, before my dad kills you." I felt his chuckle rush through me, and found myself smiling. "Seriously, he'll chase your ass with a shotgun, I've seen it happen."

He turned me to face him, forcing me to tilt my head up. Trust me to always fall for the tall ones. I bit my lip taking in his face. "I think I'll risk it," his head dipped and his lips brushed mine. I sighed and closed my eyes, letting myself enjoy it for a minute. I could hear Dad's voice from the library, gruffly grumbling at the two other men. John pulled back, listening. "I think he's hitting his stride with my boys."

I raised my eyebrow. "Your boys?" I knew he had kids, he'd shared a great deal of his life story with me, but I had somehow always pictured children. "Those two are Dean and Sam?" I could hear the incredulous tone my voice took and he grinned down at me picking it up easily.

"That would be them." His thumb brushed over my bottom lip and I had to fight the urge to flick my tongue against the calloused pad. "Why didn't Bobby ever tell me about you?" I could tell it was a question he didn't expect to be answered, which was good, because I really had no idea. "Why haven't I ever seen you here before?"

Now that I could answer. "I told you, John, I live with my grandparents." I shrugged, that was the simple answer, the rest was so complicated that I didn't know or understand half of it. "You're going to have to release me, before he catches you pawing at me." I softened the blow with a smile. "I'm leaving to go back today."

He sighed and unwrapped his arms. "Back to school?" As though he realized what season it was, he shook his head. "Back to your grandparents'?"

I nodded, and pulled away. "Yeah, my visits to Dad aren't long, but they're memorable." I smiled up at him and whispered, "let me know when you're back in my neck of the woods, ok?" I bit my lip and rushed to take the stairs back up to my room, so I could finish packing and get on the road before Dad deemed it too late to go.

I was still gathering my things when I heard a light knock on my door. "Come in." I kept stopping to try to think about whether I was leaving anything behind, I was in the process of one such moment when Dad opened the door. "Hey, Daddy." I offered absently as I tried to remember where I last saw my toiletry bag. The bathroom would have been a safe bet, but I knew it wasn't there, I'd checked. I realized that Dad hadn't said a word, and I stopped to look up at him. "Daddy?"

"Honey, I think it would be best if you stayed the night." He looked conflicted at the mere thought, but I glanced out the window and realized he was right. Shit, I'd lost the light. "I know we talked about you going today, but-"

"I know, Daddy, the night holds terrors that I don't even know about." I'd heard this since I was old enough to remember the words, but I was certain he'd been saying it for far longer. I sighed, knowing that he was upset because the Winchesters were here, and he didn't want me to meet them, or anyone from his life here. "I'm sorry." I felt like I'd screwed up by fucking up and not being ready to go earlier. It was just that, I really truly loved being with him. My dad, this amazing guy that just freaking loved me so much and made every moment with him memorable.

"Oh, sweetheart, nothin' for you to be sorry about." He pulled me to him and I sighed into the feeling of his hug. My dad was so soft and sweet, that hugging him would be the easiest way to comfort me, even during my earliest childhood and I was still getting used to the visits. "Just hate that those idjits had to ruin our last day." His voice was gruff, but I heard fondness even in the word idjits.

I grinned and pulled back. "Why haven't you told them about me?" I had never asked the question, never thought I should, but now it was bothering me a bit. "Why don't you want your friends to know about me, Dad?"

He sighed and sat on my bed. I took a seat next to him, pushing one of my bags out of the way. "Honey, some of the people I deal with, they deal with some bad things." I squinted, trying to decide what he was telling me. "I don't want you involved, it's dangerous, so if they don't know about you, then you can't be targeted." Jesus, he made it sound like the mafia.

"Daddy?" I took his hand and asked a question that I doubted he would have thought I'd even know to ask. "Are you a hunter?"

His eyes widened, and I knew. Confirmation, finally. I had wondered, after meeting John, and seeing some of the things he'd said or done. The things he used, the way he spoke, all of it sounded like my dad. "Of course I'm a hunter, honey." He brushed it off, about to talk about deer or some other nonsense.

"You know what type of hunter I mean, Daddy." I said, rolling my eyes. "You hunt the bad things in the darkness that you've been warning me about since I was a toddler." His hand clenched in mine. "It's ok, really."

"No," he stood up and began pacing. "Sweetie, you don't understand. You can't understand. Keeping you away from all this, from them," I knew he meant other hunters, not just John, but I felt my heart clench. "Keeps you safe. We don't just hunt them, honey, they hunt us too."

I wanted to understand, but I also knew that NOT being a hunter could make you hunted too. That's how I'd met John, after all. He'd been in the town I was going to college in, working on my Master's degree, hunting for something stalking the coeds of my college. We'd met, after he'd finished it, he was covered in blood, some his own, and I'd offered him a place to clean up. Adrenaline was a great aphrodisiac. As was the fact that I could see the safety in his eyes, the clear proof that he was a good one. Of course I couldn't tell Dad this, not even close to it.

"But, Dad," I stood and took his hand again, forcing him to stop pacing. "I'm not a child anymore. You know that. I don't want to have to hide or rush away so no one sees me when I visit. And I don't want your friends to be shocked when I call you 'daddy' or 'dad' because they don't know. I feel like some kind of dirty little secret." It rushed out of me, and I realized that it had bothered me more than I admitted even to myself.

Dad's eyes pinched at my words, I knew it hurt him to hear, but how did he think it felt to feel it? "Aww, sweetheart, you're not a dirty secret." He wrapped me in another hug, kissing the top of my head. "Why didn't you tell me you felt like this?" I shrugged. "Damn it, I've done so much wrong, that even what I thought I was doin' right was wrong." I felt him sigh, but he didn't pull away, just held me, giving and getting comfort. "Come downstairs, guess it's time you met the idjits I deal with all the damn time."

I giggled and pulled back. "Does that mean I don't have to rush back tomorrow?" I asked, hoping that he knew that I'd stay forever if he let me. He gave a gruff snort and I called it a win. "Let me toss my things away, at least for now, and I'll be right down." He kissed my forehead and smiled.

"That's fine, Parisa. Take your time." I smiled, realizing that he'd used my name, usually it was terms of endearment, but this time he used the name my mother had picked. I'd once looked it up, and realized that she'd picked a name that meant 'like an angel'. That was a hell of a lot to live up to, but I also realized, when I met John and he told me things about his life, that angels weren't always so innocent. He walked out of my room, taking a long look at me before he closed my door.

I sat down on the bed. Taking a beat to get my thoughts in order. One harsh truth down, I thought, now how and when could I explain about John and I?