She sat on a large, grassy sand dune, overlooking the vast ocean in front of her. She ran her hand over the sand but couldn't feel it, nor could she hear the sound of the waves crashing onto the shore. Silence surrounded her as she observed the seagulls flying above until she heard a woman's voice. It was familiar to her.

"You have everything you need, it's time to wake, Emilia."

Her eyes snapped open and she was no longer sitting on a sand dune, but lying on a bed. She came to a sitting position and looked around the room in which she knew she'd been before, but couldn't remember when.

In fact, she had no memories at all.

The room was empty except for a few pieces of furniture and a small purple backpack on the table. She got to her feet and picked it up, noticing a white envelope underneath it.

Somehow, she knew exactly who and what it was for.

Her brain was taking in everything she heard and saw, trying to make sense of it.

She put the envelope in the backpack and slung it over her shoulders. Then she opened the door, inviting the chilly October air into the room. The first step out of the room was proving to be difficult to initiate. She felt safe inside the room and stepping outside of it terrified her. But it was something she knew she had to do, she had to leave the room. Her heart pounded fast in her chest as she lifted her foot and stepped outside.

Nothing happened.

Once she realized she was fine, she closed the door behind her and kept walking.

There was no turning back now.

The course had been ingrained in her brain as if she had spent hours memorizing every sign and road on the way. She knew exactly where she was going even though she'd never been to her destination. She eventually made it to the bus stop and sat down on the bench. She unzipped her backpack and looked inside while she waited. There were some things she recognized like clothes, a small hairbrush, a book, and a toothbrush. There were also some things she didn't recognize like the small flashlight, pack of bandaids, and money. When the bus arrived, she watched the three adults that were in front of her pay the driver with the green paper she had found in her bag. Before boarding, she quickly pulled some out and handed the woman two bills just as she'd watched the others do. She was oblivious to the strange looks she received as she walked onto the bus and sat down towards the front. She was both excited and frightened of this massive metal box she was riding in. When they began moving, a grin appeared on her face as she looked out the window. Colorful blurs sped past them and she watched in awe the whole ride, almost forgetting which stop was hers.

"Chestnut Ave." a voice announced and her head snapped up, recognizing the name. She got to her feet and exited the bus by herself, feeling the October breeze on her face once again. She closed her eyes and saw the path mapped out in her mind.

She began walking to the left until she reached an intersection with lots of people and cars. This wasn't something she was prepared for. She knew she had to cross the street but cars were flying by and there was no way to cross without getting hit. She looked around at the other people, some carrying flat boxes with handles, some wearing round things on their heads while riding a two-wheeled machine. Some had hair on their face, some had hair on their heads, and some had none at all. Everyone looked so different from each other. Suddenly the group she was standing near began crossing the street in the direction she needed to go, so she quickly followed behind them. All the cars had miraculously stopped for them.

She wondered why.

She kept walking in the direction she needed to go, looking up at the orange and gold leaves above her and watching them sway. A brown leaf fell to the pavement in front of her and she bent down to pick it up. It was light and brittle in her hand, a texture she had never felt. She tightened her grip and felt it crumble underneath her fingers. She loved the crunching sound it made and picked up another. As she continued on her way, she'd jump onto the dead leaves on the sidewalk and smile at the crunching and crackling sounds they'd make.

She closed her eyes again to see her path, which had gotten significantly shorter, telling her she was close to her destination.

Western Hill Motel was tucked away from the busy road in a quieter part of town. She walked up to the building and down the long stretch of doors. She looked up at the numbers until she found the one she'd been looking for.

Sam Winchester stood in the bathroom and splashed some water on his face before drying it with a towel. He and his brother had just finished a very tiring and weird case, even for them. Never in his life did he think he'd be attacked by Gandhi, but if it were to happen to anyone it would be him or Dean. Sometimes he felt like they attracted chaos like polar molecules whether they wanted to or not. He hated how it almost seemed inevitable.

Sam walked out into the main room where Dean sat at the table cleaning weapons silently. He began packing the rest of his things in his duffel when there were three soft knocks on the door.

The brothers looked at each other and instinctively grabbed their guns before Sam went to the door and looked through the peephole.

"It's a kid," he said in confusion, turning towards Dean.

"Probably selling cookies or popcorn or whatever. Just don't open it." Dean replied, sitting back down.

Sam shrugged and went to resume packing when there were another few knocks on the door.

He sighed in annoyance and just decided to answer the door so the knocking would stop. He opened the door to reveal a young girl, just tall enough to where the top of her golden-blonde head was in line with his elbow.

She wore blue jeans and a white sweater with navy stripes, and a purple backpack across her shoulders. Dean saw the girl through the doorway and sensed a familiarity about her, almost as if he had seen her before.

"Hi there, can I help you with something?" Sam asked in a gentle tone, and the girl looked up at him intently for a moment as if assessing him

"Are you Dean Winchester?" She inquired, somewhat forcefully.

Both Sam and Dean furrowed their eyebrows in alarm.

"Who's asking?" the elder Winchester questioned and she looked over at him in surprise, not realizing he was there.

"Um...I am." The little girl replied as if it were obvious.

"Do I know you?"

"No, I don't think so. Are you Dean Winchester?"

Dean stared at the girl blankly, not having a clue what was going on as she stood in the doorway.

"Yeah…?" he trailed off with a short nod.

"You're my father." She stated in a way that sounded certain and uncertain at the same time.

Sam's eyes widened before flicking over to his brother who was equally if not more stunned at the statement. There was no way he had heard that correctly.

"I'm sorry, what?" Dean chuckled nervously, standing up.

"You're my fa-"

"No, no, I heard you. I mean what are you talking about?"

A puzzled look crossed the girl's face.

"I don't know how to make it more clear than that," she explained, not understanding why he had such a disturbed look on his face. She took a few steps forward, inviting herself into the room causing the younger Winchester brother to step back.

"Wh-who is your mother?" Sam questioned, finally finding his voice again. His brother having a child out there somewhere was not an impossible idea to him, but for it to just show up at their motel out of nowhere was crazy.

Dean was quite certain his heart had never been racing so fast in his life as he also knew it was possible after his many ventures. However, he truly hoped this was a nightmare or hallucination of some kind. He was also hoping with every fiber in him that she wouldn't say her mother was that psycho one-night stand, Rachel from eight-ish years ago.

"Her name is Athena."

Dean let out an audible sigh of relief that the girl didn't say Rachel until what she'd actually said registered in his brain.

"Hang on. Athena?" he repeated, the panic set in again. He knew an Athena. That was the name of the chick from the bar.

"There's been some mistake, kid. I met that woman a week ago."

When she didn't respond Dean raised his eyebrows.

"Do you see how that doesn't make any sense?"

"No?"

Dean looked at Sam in disbelief who furrowed his eyebrows in suspicion.

"Who sent you here?"

"My mother."

"You mean the woman I met 10 nights ago?" Dean retorted.

"Yes."

"What's your name, kid?" he sighed in frustration.

"Emilia."

"Emilia. You seem like a nice kid, but this just doesn't make any sense."

"How old are you?" Sam wondered.

"Nine days but also nine years," she answered as though that were a completely normal thing to say.

Neither Sam nor Dean had any idea how to respond for a solid minute. Every time either one of them tried to say something, they just couldn't form the words. They weren't sure if this kid was out of her mind or just a very dedicated prankster.

"So basically, you're telling us you were conceived, born, and aged nine years all in the span of 10 days?" Dean demanded, crossing his arms.

"Mhm." She nodded, with a smile, thinking he finally was understanding the situation.

He was not.

Dean looked over to Sam in bewilderment.

"Am I hallucinating? Is this a nightmare?"

The girl took off her backpack and unzipped it before pulling out the envelope.

"This is for you." She said, handing it to Dean who hesitantly took it.

"What is this?"

"I don't know. I just know I'm supposed to give it to you."

Sam and Dean shared a worried look before Dean opened the envelope and pulled out a letter, his brother reading over his shoulder.

Dean,

If this letter reaches you, I implore you to read with an open mind and a conscientiousness I've come to understand you possess. I was not completely forthcoming during our first encounter as it was not accidental like I might have led on. I was counting on you being there. There is far too much to explain than this page can pass along so I will inform you on what is most important. Though this child has grown significantly in a short time, she is truly yours, powerful magic has made that so. Truthfully, it was never my intention for you to be aware of her much less meet, as your role had already been fulfilled, but I am left with no other choice. I need her to be safe and I believe you can protect her better than I can at this time. Beyond your world of demons and angels is one much older. There is an ancient prophecy surrounding this child and I have been searching for thousands of years for you, Dean Winchester. I believe you are a vital part of that prophecy. My father, Zeus, has been hunting me for a large portion of that time so I must continue to stay away to ensure he doesn't learn of her until the right time, otherwise her life will be in terrible danger. I am aware of who you and Sam are as well as what you really do, but I beg you still: to protect her until she is able to protect herself. The fate of the world depends on it.

Athena.

Dean hadn't told her his last name, nor Sam's name, or what they really did, and he certainly didn't mention angels or demons. He didn't know how she possibly could've known all of that unless she was something herself. He looked down at the girl and noticed the gold necklace around her neck, the one Athena had been wearing that night when they met.

"Athena? Zeus? A prophecy? You don't actually think we're talking about gods here?" Sam asked.

"Dude, I don't know what to think. I thought all of that crap was made up."

"So did I, but why not, right? Everything else is real."

"Next thing we know, we're gonna be riding sea unicorns searching for Atlantis," Dean growled, rubbing his forehead where a headache was forming.

The girl was watching them go back and forth, not understanding most of what they were talking about. She could only tell by their faces and the tones of their voices they weren't happy.

"If her mother is actually the Athena, would that make her half-god?" Sam wondered in shock.

"There's no way this is happening," Dean muttered, pacing the room anxiously.

"Did she give you any instructions? What did she tell you? Where is she?" Sam asked the girl, as he took the letter from Dean, reading it over again. She shook her head and hugged her backpack closer to her.

"I don't remember her, I don't really remember anything."

"When I spoke to her she said something about Minnesota, but that was it. Do you know where she might be in Minnesota?" Dean asked, looking at the kid who shook her head again.

With a puzzled expression, Sam flipped the note over and ran his fingers across it like he had felt something.

"What are you doing?" Dean wondered, pausing his anxious pacing.

"There's something else here. Hand me a paper and pencil would you?"

Dean dug through one of the bags and pulled out a pad of paper and a pencil and tore a page off before handing them to Sam. He placed the paper across the back of the letter and began lightly shading the page until symbols appeared.

"What is this, greek?"

"Of course it is, why not?" Dean nodded to himself sarcastically.

"I've seen that before," Milly commented, looking at the page from between them and they both turned to look down at her.

"Really? Do you know what it says?" Sam asked.

"No. I've just seen it before."

"Thank you, that's very helpful. Would you excuse us for a moment please?" Dean asked rhetorically, walking across the room with Sam.

"What the hell do we do?" Dean whispered.

"Don't ask me, you're the one who supposedly did it with a freaking god," Sam whispered back, making Dean smirk momentarily.

"I did, didn't I?"

"Focus." Sam snapped, punching Dean in the arm.

"Ow, fine. She's a little kid, we can't leave her here...can we?"

"Dean." Sam scolded and glanced over to the girl to make sure she couldn't hear.

"You think she's evil?" Dean wondered, following Sam's gaze.

She wasn't paying attention to them in the slightest, looking down at her sneakers while she rocked back and forth on her heels.

"Hard to tell," Sam whispered.

"So uh...we take her to Bobby's? See if he has any clue what to do?"

"Yeah, I guess. He's gonna kill you for getting a goddess pregnant."

"Shut up, we don't know that for certain," Dean growled, walking back towards the nine-day-old nine-year-old. She turned around and looked up at the two brothers who stood in front of her.

"Hey, so we're gonna take you to a-a friend of ours. See if he has anything to translate the message." Dean said uncomfortably, but in a nicer tone than the one he had just spoken to his brother in.

"Okay."