Please excuse my progress but I've been busy with exams (don't you just love them…eh NAT!) and my last one is next week so I'll be juggling between fan fiction and my revision.

Stay tuned!

Is John the model father when leaves Chrissie home alone?

"Chrissie," said John in a low voice as he shook his four year old daughter awake, "Wake up."

The little girl yawned and scrunched her freckled nose. Her eyelids fluttered open, her eyes still blearily as she focused dozily on her father. John smiled and ruffled her fluffy hair.

"Mornin'" he said as the child still gazed at him sleepily, rubbing her eyes. After blinking several times, Chrissie was now fully awake

"Can we get pancakes for breakfast?" she asked hopefully, to which

John sighed and rubbed his chin.

Chrissie then donned her famous puppy dog eyes with matching pout "Please Daddy."

John smirked and nodded to which then little girl let out a whoop and she dived out of bed. The kid was literally like a puppy, she would cause mayhem and leave mess everywhere and would have a wounded expression when scolded.

She waved her small skinny arms in the air "Yay!"

John chuckled "You gonna get dressed then. You can't go to the diner in your pyjamas."

Chrissie nodded "Yes sir."

John asked "Can you do it all yourself like a big girl."

Chrissie nodded again "Yes sir."

John smiled as his daughter disappeared into the bathroom with her bag "Alright then get going. Don't forget to wash and brush your teeth."

Several minutes later, she reappeared. Kitted out in her striped sweater and denim dungarees with a mini pair of clunky work boots. She loved those boots even though they were made for little boys. Her hair was tied up in odd lopsided bunches. Grinning her cheeky and lovable grin she skipped over to her father and the pair exited the motel room and off to the diner down the road. Chrissie was bouncing with excitement as she sat in the booth of the diner. It wasn't like her father to take her out for breakfast when he was busy with his "work", she would normally be plonked in front of the TV with a bowl of Lucky Charms. John was up to his eyeballs in research that was wearing thin. He needed to go out later but the boys were at school. There was no other option. Chrissie would have to be left alone in the strange and musky motel room until he or the boys came back. Chrissie was a little spitfire he told himself as he watched his daughter finger the laminated menu with awe, she was fearless and was independent enough to take care of herself. She would be fine he convinced himself as a waitress approached them.

A large chocolate milkshake was placed in front of the beaming four year old and a small plate piled with pancakes, decorated with strawberries and whipped cream made her gawp furthermore. She clapped and grabbed her fork and began devouring her plate like a mini locust. The poor kid lived of junk and crappy diner food and this seemed to be the first decent meal for her in a long time. She relished it happily as her father kept a watchful eye over her. John continued to remind himself that Chrissie would be fine when he would have to eventually leave her alone to go out. The kid was smart he told himself over and over. A tiny voice brought him out of his daydream.

"Daddy?"

John blinked and smiled "Yeah."

"I's finished my pancakes," grinned Chrissie with a chocolate stained mouth, she then pointed at her empty plate, "See."

Damn he thought, the kid was like a mini trash compactor, she had obviously picked up bad habits from her brothers. Well one of them anyway. John paid the bill and left the diner with his little girl toddling at his heel. Now was the difficult part.

Chrissie bounded back into the motel room and dived onto the sofa and seized the TV remote. To her delight Rugrats appeared on the TV screen. She giggled as she watched her show in silence unaware that her father was going to break some bad news to her. The poor thing assumed that he was wanting to spend time with her today. That made it all the harder for John. But he couldn't abandon this hunt. Lives were at stake. Chrissie would eventually grow up to realise that. He swallowed and sat down beside her on the sofa.

"What's this yer watchin?" he asked, an icebreaker before he dealt the blow.

"Wugwats," replied Chrissie, her gaze still on the TV as Tommy and the gang wound up the bully Angelica, Chrissie frowned at the animated character, "She's a bitch."

John almost choked on his own air. The little girl was none the wiser of the fact that she had said one of her first curse words. Not only was Chrissie's stomach a bottomless pit but she was a little parrot too. John would need to have a word with his sons later about what words they used in front of their baby sister. He couldn't scold her. Not now.

"Christina" said John in a gentle yet firm tone, "You're a big girl right."

"Uh huh," nodded the child looking up at her father, "I's a big girl."

John smiled sadly and let out a heavy sigh. Confused and anxious, the little girl climbed onto John's knee. Her eyes had went wide. He couldn't do this. Yes he could. He needed to. She would be fine.

"Daddy has to go out for a while," he said softly only to be confronted with large sad eyes, "Daddy has important work to do."

"Can't I come with you?" said the wounded four year old, with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"Not yet honey" replied John as he saw tears well in his baby girl's eyes.

He rocked her on his knee before he shook her off to gather his things that he required. The little girl watched him sadly from the sofa. He headed to the door, he turned his head, wishing he hadn't, the look on Chrissie's face said it all.

"Remember Chrissie, don't break the salt lines and if anybody comes to the door or into the room, you hide," he instructed her, "I'll be back soon."

With that last instruction, John left. Leaving Chrissie all alone, with only the buzz of animated characters to keep her company. One thing and one thing only went through her innocent mind. Daddy doesn't like me. She began to cry. Small, heartbroken sobs that nobody could hear.

Several hours later

"I swear Sammy if you mention anything about that damn essay report, I will slap you so hard you'll end up in New Zealand" grunted Dean.

Twelve year old Sam rolled his eyes at his older brother. He was ecstatic that his essay on The Battle of Gettysburg got an A+, then realised he was bleating on about it too much and decided to shut up for the rest of the car journey back from school. What would Dad say he wondered and it soon came to his attention that his truck wasn't in the parking lot.

The brothers climbed out of the car and scanned about. The truck was gone. Then it dawned on them. Something that they wished wasn't true. The motel room was unlocked and they peeked inside. Nobody was in. They sighed in relief until they heard the sounded of small whimpers echoing throughout the room. He had finally done it. Their father had actually left the smallest and most vulnerable member of the family alone. Was hunting more important to him than family? Words were going to be exchanged on his return. Harsh words.

"Chrissie," called Dean searching the room, "Come on out kiddo."

Sam spotted her suddenly. Tucked under one of the beds, he was surprised how she even managed to squirm out. The youngest of the children had traces of tears streaks down her delicate face and her eyes were red and puffy from a crying marathon. She charged into Sam's arms, almost winding him. The distraught youngster burst into fresh tears as she hugged her brother's legs. Dean was pissed. Why would Dad leave her alone. She hates being left alone. Chrissie ran to him and he caught her in his arms. He wiped away her tears with his thumb.

"When did Dad go out?" he asked his baby sister.

"Dunno" was the broken answer he got, "Ages ago. We's had pancakes then he weft me awone."

The brother exchanged glances as they comforted their upset little sister. Nobody upset's little Chrissie. Not even her own father. Not while they were around.

Later

"How could you do that Dad!" raged Dean, "She's four years old. You can't leave her home alone at her age. God knows what could happen. Anything could happen!"

John was as guilty as hell for doing so but he still had a reason. He fought his ground regardless.

"There was a life at stake, a spirit that prays on pregnant women! I had to go. It was important!" retorted John angrily.

Dean was furious "What! More important than the welfare of your own daughter! The kid probably thinks you hate her. You never make time for her. She doesn't even know you because your never here!"

John was torn by that statement. He cared about her very much. She was his only daughter. One of the three apples in his late wife's eye. Nobody could doubt his love for his children. Since the fire however, looking at her, seemed difficult. Guilt had now overpowered him. His only relief. Alcohol. He barged past his eldest and slammed the door behind him. He would have to face the music. One day.

PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW. I need an energy and confidence boost. This week has sucked. Blame it on exams.