Disclaimer: I don't own Supernatural. I only own my OC Mary-Elisabeth "Emmy" Winchester.

Emmy: 5 y/o
Sam (at Stanford): 18 y/o
Dean: 21 y/o

"A month ago, Adrian Willis reported that nearly thirty chickens on his farm had been exsanguinated over a period of two weeks. Two days later he found three strange animal carcasses outside his property," John summed up in a hushed tone, careful not to attract the attention of a certain five year old who was too busy humming the theme song of Sesame Street.

Dean leaned forward, crossing his arms on the small kitchen table. "You sure this is not some coyote or something?"

"That's what Wildlife Resources thought, but I've seen the pictures Dean, those were not coyotes. Willis described the creature as having large ears, whiskers, a long tail, spine on its back, and about the size of a dog," John pointed out, being beyond all doubt.

"Okay," Dean nodded, taking in the information. "So what do you think we're dealing with?"

"A chupacabra."

Dean cocked a single eyebrow in disbelief. "Where is this case?"

"Cuero, Texas," John answered. "Look I know what you're thinking, it's not common for these creatures to appear anywhere other than South America, that's why I need you to check this out."

Dean ran a hand down his face, not sold on the idea yet. "Dad, you've never even hunted a Chupacabra before, hell you've never even seen one!"

"Lower your damn voice," his father forced through gritted teeth, causing Dean to clench his jaw shut. "I might not have seen one, but Randall has, more than once."

"Since when do you take another hunter's word over your own? You've only worked with Randall once, and did you already forget last year when he thought he was dealing with a werewolf, and turns out it was just a husky with rabies," Dean shot back, his hands balled into fists.

"This isn't about what Randall saw, this is about you proving to me you can handle this on your own. Now stow the shillyshallying and get started."

Dean's eyes widened. "Wait, hold on, you want me to gank this thing?"

"You got this Dean, I trust you. Besides, I still have to recover from that Vampire, the blood sucker nearly broke my spine."

Dean studied his father closely. This wasn't about trust or his injuries, this was about something else. He was the only one his father could rely on, especially with Sam gone to college. John couldn't afford taking Dean with him on hunts, not when they had a five year old that couldn't be left to her own devices. So now, it was either John or Dean that had to stay with Emmy while the other took care of the freaks that come out at night. Dean didn't feel like this was his father finally passing the torch to him, this was his father acting out of necessity.

John cleared his throat, pulling Dean out of his thoughts. "What's wrong? You're not gonna bail on this are you?"

"What? No, no, of course not." Dean couldn't believe his father even thought of the possibility of him chickening out. He was Dean friggin' Winchester! "I'll do it. When do I leave?"

"Tonight," was John's short answer as he shoved his notes and journal towards his son. "I told Randall to meet up with you in Cuero at ten in the morning, which gives you enough time to haul your ass outta here."

"Wow, okay." Dean had to take a second to collect himself. This was the opportunity to prove himself to his father, but it came with a huge amount of responsibility. But he also realized that now was the moment, it was his chance to finally make his father proud and show him what he was capable of. A part of Dean wished Sam would've been here, just so he could share this moment, but his brother wouldn't understand. Sam made it clear that he wanted to have nothing to do with the family business, the lifestyle wasn't meant for him … and apparently his family didn't either or he wouldn't have abandoned them like this.

SPN

While Dean got his stuff together, John took it upon himself to give Emmy a bath. It was something his wife always used to do, and he never understood what Mary liked about getting wet, struggling with keeping their children in bath instead of letting them running away yelling I'm nekkid!, and then there was the struggle of getting them back into their clothes, it was too much of a hassle for John.

But now he had no other choice, and he could honestly say that he didn't mind at all. Now he understood what his wife loved about these moments – they were intimate, his daughter seemed to always chatter his ears off whenever he gave her a bath, he loved the sounds of her giggling and singing, the scent of her vanilla shampoo reminded him so much of Mary, it was so nostalgic and euphoric. The daily ritual was such a normal thing to do, it made him forget everything about the life that had hardened him.

"You're quiet," John pointed out as he watched Emmy play with one of her toys. She lazily pushed the duck back and forth with no joy or glee. She normally was a bundle of energy whenever she was in bath, John always had to calm her down before she'd cause a storm in the tub. The fact that he had no drop of water on his t-shirt or a smudge of soap on his face, was a sign that something was up.

Emmy shrugged her little shoulders as she numbly poked the bubbles surrounding her.

John filled a cup with water, pouring it gently down her hair. "Is my baby girl tired from going to school this week?"

The toddler merely nodded, not putting an effort into actually replying.

"You're not getting sick, are you?" John checked her forehead, not feeling anything that should worry him. He got on his knees, leaning over the tub to cup her chin. "What's wrong, sweetie?" When she simply shrugged again, he sighed. "Daddy can't know what's going on in that pretty little head of yours if you won't tell me anything."

"I don't know." She scrunched up her freckled button nose, and it took everything in him not to pepper that adorable face with kisses because she was that cute.

"You don't know? Is it something that happened at school? Is this Rover kid bothering you again?"

"His name is Bentley, daddy, not Rover," she told him with that you're so stupid sometimes-attitude.

John snorted. "Doesn't matter, who even calls their child after a car?"

"And he's too scared to sit wif me at lunch now cuz Dean freatend him and said that if he stole my food again, he'll shove a funnel down his froat and cram everything down it."

"Damn right, he will," John chuckled, getting back to his feet. "Let's get you dressed huh." He grabbed a towel and lifted her out of the tub. After getting her dressed, her hair brushed and temperature checked (because you could never be too sure), John took her to the kitchen just as Dean got back.

"Got everything?" John asked, putting Emmy down on the counter.

"Yeah, I just finished stocking up on everything in the trunk." Dean put down the bags of food he picked up on his way when he noticed the missing dimpled smile that his little sister usually wore. "Hey, why do you look like someone stole all your candy? Wait, is it that Bentley boy again, kid or not, I swear I will shove a funnel down –"

"He didn't do anything, Dean," she cut him off, fiddling with her necklace.

"Then what is it?" When he got no answer, he turned to his father who pulled up his own shoulders.

"She's a girl, aren't they supposed to be like this? You know, moody, confused, all these emotions they can't put into words?"

Dean gave his father a look that said really? "Dad, she's five, not fifteen."

"Then what do you want me to do?" It was rare that John would not know what to do, he was too proud to ask help for anything … except when it came to his own children. He couldn't remember ever having problems with Dean when he was little, Sam and Emmy were different though. He thought because Sam was always a mommy's child, no one understood the boy better than Mary. And Emmy … well, Emmy was a girl, that only was an obstacle for John, and this time he didn't have his wife to rely on.

"I don't know, talk to her or something," Dean offered.

"You talk to her."

"Why me?" Dean wanted to know.

"You're her brother," John reasoned.

"You're her father." Dean had to refrain from rolling his eyes. "Look I don't have time for this, Randall called, and I better get going now if I want to be there on time."

"Where you going?" Emmy asked softly.

Dean turned to her, tugging gently at one of her wet pigtails. "There's just some stuff I need to do, but hey I won't be gone too long, sweetheart." Dean took one of her hands, pulling down two fingers so three little fingers rested. "I'll be back by Monday, that means you'll have to sleep three nights."

She looked down at her three fingers with a pout. "That's a lot of sleeping."

"No it's not," Dean lifted her in his arms, jostling her a little. "How about I bring you something when I get back," he whispered in her ear.

She gasped dramatically, causing Dean to laugh. "What is it? What is it? What is it?" she repeated impatiently.

"Hey, it's supposed to be a surprise!" Dean nibbled at her chubby cheeks and neck, eliciting a fit of giggles. "Okay, I gotta go now. Be good, alright."

She nodded with a mischievous smile. "I'm always good."

"Sure you are," Dean nuzzled her nose. "I'll call you, okay? Now gimme some sugar." He puckered his lips, receiving a chaste peck on the lips. "Don't be too hard on Dad," he whispered as he put her back on the counter, giving her another kiss before exchanging one last look with his father.

"Call me when you get there!" John called after his son, waiting for the usual yes sir reply.

SPN

Diner was quiet. John wasn't used to having to start a conversation with his daughter. Usually it was her that talked nonstop, leaving him to listen and occasionally nod or make a sound to ensure her that he was still listening. But now, she didn't say a single word and it started to worry him. He had no idea how to deal with a five year old that wouldn't tell him what was going on. He tried to think of how Mary would've dealt with this, but felt ashamed when he couldn't remember.

There had to be something he could do as a father to make her talk, but what? He was never good at chick flick moments, like Dean put it, not with people in general, let alone with five year old girls. John was more of a physical kind of person, he'd pat Dean's shoulder to tell him he was proud, or ruffle Sam's hair to show his love, or pull Emmy on his lap to make her feel safe. John always struggled with saying the right words, he just found it much easier to simply show what he wanted to say.

"Daddy, where is my Mommy?"

Momentarily taken aback by the unexpected question, John got rid of the thoughts in his head, trying to focus on the matter at hand. Just two seconds ago he didn't know how to get her to talk, and now he didn't know how to answer her. That girl made his confidence and self-assurance shake so easily, it would put every man to shame.

"Uh," John cleared his throat, grabbing his beer and taking a long draw, trying to stall the moment so he could think about the right answer. When he met his daughter's big blue eyes filled with wonder, reminding him so much of his wife, he had to take a second to simply breathe in and out. "I already told you baby girl, she's in heaven."

"But where's heaven?"

"Far up in the sky where she can watch over us," he replied, playing with the label on his bottle, a show of discomfort. It had been almost five years now but it never got easier to talk about, the wound was still too fresh. John just continued living by ignoring the pain, it was his way of dealing with countless of other things – just pretending it wasn't there.

Emmy bunched her eyebrows together in exasperation. "But I looked evewywhere, I can't see her. I tried to jump really high on the trampoline so I could get closer to heaven but I still couldn't see her cuz all the clouds stood in the way."

"That's because she's with God, and you remember what Pastor Jim told you, you don't need to see to believe, you simply need to feel to know. Your mother is up there and even though you can't see her, you just need to believe she's with you every second of the day."

John could see his daughter wrinkling her nose, something she did when she was deep in thought. She was trying to process his words and he wondered if he wasn't making things more difficult for her.

"But why can't she come down? Just for one day so I can show the kids at school that I do have a Mommy."

John always loved her innocence, it was so pure, so perfect. Everything he did was to preserve that innocence, and sometimes that meant he had to lie. But now he wasn't sure what to do, should he lie or tell the truth? He had to keep in mind that she was only five, she was at that age where she needed a clear answer, something her young mind could understand. Heaven was a concept too hard for her to grasp. She wanted an explanation she could see with her own eyes, something that would offer her clarity.

"C'mere, sweetie." John opened his arms, letting her crawl in his lap. He held her tightly, looking down at her pretty face. Sometimes he'd stare at her and wonder how someone like him could've made something so beautiful like her, and then he'd remember where she got all those gorgeous features from. "Is this what's gotten you all so quiet? Are those kids bothering you at school?"

She dropped her gaze to his stubbled chin where she let her nails gently scratch at the ticklish hairs. It was another trait she got from her mother, they couldn't hold still. John couldn't remember ever talking to Mary without her touching him somehow. It was always something subtle, like adjusting the collar of his shirt, softly bumping her foot against his leg under the table, holding his hand when he drove the car, running her fingers through his hair when they watched TV, or nuzzling his warm neck when they slept. Emmy was exactly the same, like her mother she always seemed to subconsciously seek physical contact.

"They wanna know where my Mommy is and I told them what you said to me, that she was in heaven. But then Carrie asked me where heaven is, but I don't know where it is. I said it was somewhere in the sky so at recess we climbed a tree to watch the sky but we couldn't find her anywhere. I even yelled Mommy but she didn't answer me."

John leaned in to kiss her pout away. "Oh, baby. I wish it were that simple."

"I made something for her in class," she said as she rested her head on his shoulder, rubbing her temple against his chin.

"You did? Wanna show it to Daddy?" he muttered with his lips against her soft hair.

Emmy got off his lap to retrieve something from her backpack. She came back with a necklace made of dried pasta covered in paint and glitter. She handed the accessory to her father who took it gingerly. John felt a pang in his heart when he caught the little note attached to it saying Happy Mother's Day. He remembered those times when Sam and Dean came back from school with their gifts and the breakfasts in bed. It hurt that his daughter never got the chance to pamper her mother like that.

"It's really beautiful, Emmy. You made this all by yourself?"

"Yes!" she clapped her hands proudly. "Except for the string, Miss Carter helped me with that," she said as she leaned against her father's knees.

John switched his attention between the necklace and his daughter. He needed to do something, something he only did once. It would be the only way for Emmy to get some closure. And even though he hated visiting that place, he just felt that inner obligation as a father pushing him to just get over himself and shove his own issues aside for the sake of his daughter.

He leaned over, cupping her small chin in his hand. "How about we give this to her?"

Emmy's eyes widened. "You mean … to Mom?"

John smiled. "What do you think?"

SPN

Mary Winchester. 1954 – 1995. In Loving Memory.

John stared at the headstone, reading the engraved letters over and over again. It angered him to no end how some simple piece of granite represented this wonderful woman that meant everything to him. She was so much more than that, she deserved a damn monument so everyone would know who she was. But maybe he was the one to blame, he shouldn't have left her body to some uncle of hers to take care of. John didn't care what happened to her remains because she was gone anyway. The only thing left of her was her memory. Every little moment he shared with her, John kept safe in his heart.

As he looked down at the grave, he couldn't imagine her lying beneath the ground. If he had his way he would've burned her to ashes, it was the only way for her to actually rest in peace. And she deserved that peace. But there was only one thing keeping him from digging up her coffing and salt her bones – his kids. John was never a religious kind of person, and neither was Mary but his children needed something to hold on to. He found peace with her being gone and never coming back, but his sons and daughter didn't. They held on to the thought that she was still there, somewhere in heaven, unable to see her, touch her, smell her, hear her. But she was still there, watching them. So John went along with the whole biblical explanation as long as it helped his children cope with the loss.

Once Emmy finished burying her necklace, she kneeled in front of the headstone, holding her hands together under her chin, her eyes closed and lips moving in a silent prayer. John momentarily forgot why he was even going through all of this, until he saw a content smile touch her lips. That's right, he was doing it for her … and her.

He looked up at the sky, trying hard to imagine she was indeed looking down at them. He wondered what Mary would think of him, of how he raised their children, would she be proud? Probably not. Mary always made it clear that she never wanted her kids to be raised like hunters … and John had failed her. But he swore to himself that once he got his revenge, he'd stop and be a family again. But what he didn't know, and never will, is that he'd never get the chance to set things right, it was already too late, they were too far gone.

Emmy tugged at her father's hand. John looked down at his little angel and wordlessly lifted her up in his arms, hugging her tightly. He pressed his nose against her cheek, his forehead against her temple and closed his eyes. Minutes passed and John realized, as he held his daughter, that if there was a God it must've had mercy on his soul. John didn't think he would've survived living without the love of his life if it weren't for the precious gift he held in his arms. His daughter wasn't a replacement, she was so much more than that. She was the glue that held the pieces of his heart together, the remedy that relieved the pain, the warmth that melted the stone cold wrath consuming him. His baby girl had no idea how she saved a little part of him every day.

John pressed his lips against her soft, rosy cheek. "Love you," he mumbled quietly. He looked down at the headstone and blinked away some tears.

I will always love you, too.

A/N: Hi, beautiful people! I'm so happy I finally got to update this story. I'm sorry for neglecting it for too long. I hope you liked this chapter, don't forget to leave a review! Also if you have a request for the next chapter, let me know and I will definitely consider it :)

PS: Let me know if you spot grammar mistakes ;)