Supernatural Series Rewrite- Season 6

Frontierland: Part Two

"I wonder what we're going to do now," your dad says and takes a seat at his desk. He reaches for his alcohol bottle, but you snatch it from his hand before he can take a sip. "Hey, unless you're planning on drinking it, hand it over."

"I'm not going to drink it. You're not either. Today won't be about wallowing in grief, pity, and worry. We're going to get our minds off Sam and Dean because we can't do anything until twenty-four hours are up, right? No use is getting gray hair now," you scoff and set the bottle off to the side.

"I'm not going to wallow in grief, pity, and... worry, yes."

"I know you're not over Rufus' death. Every night since it happened, I put nothing but good dreams into your head. You get a good night's sleep because of me. I know you still have nightmares because I have to take them away. I did that for you when you died and Sam jumped into the cage with Lucifer."

"Yeah, well, I didn't ask you to," he sighs.

"You didn't have to. You're my dad. I want you around when my daughter is born. I need you to be... well, you. Okay?"

"When is are you due, anyway?"

"In about two months. I can't believe I've been pregnant for six and a half months. I'm not so lucky, though, because I hear new moms have it a lot worse with Braxton Hicks, morning sickness, and always having to pee," you chuckle.

"Are you ready?"

"Not even close. I've been so busy with Sam and his soul and now Eve that I didn't have time to pick up an actual parenting book about all this."

"Let me tell you right now, those parenting books are shit. They never prepare you. No one can prepare to be a parent. Whether you have one kid or five... all of them are different. Your mom tried to get me to read them, but I never did."

"Are you saying I'm going to have five children?" you laugh.

"No, I'm saying that don't pick up a book. Parenting is all about experience, and if it were up to me, I'd say you're already ready."

"I am?" you ask nervously.

"How long have you been taking care of those boys? Me? You're ready, Y/N. You were made to be a mother."

"I don't even have anything for her. I don't have a crib, a changing table, diapers, clothes–" you stop yourself short when you come to the realization that you're giving birth in about two months, and you don't have a lick of anything. "I don't have anything. I am so unprepared!"

"Why don't we go right now? We can go to the store and pick out some stuff. We'll need to find you a permanent home to keep it all, though."

"I'll keep it here. You wouldn't mind, would you? One-on-one time with your granddaughter if I need to go out and hunt?"

"I'd be honored," he grins tearfully.

"Okay, then let's go! I'll meet you in the car. I need to get something, first."

"Okay."

Your dad heads out to the car while you head upstairs to your room. Every single time you come home to visit your dad, you've added money that you've made from hustling other people in pool or darts. You've racked up a nice wad of cash over the many, many years that you've done this. Sam and Dean don't know you did this, or else they'll have you blow it all.

When Dean grabbed the rabbit's foot that one time and got all this cash from scratch-offs that he won, you got a good chunk of the forty-six thousand dollars that he won. To get technical, he gave you twenty thousand of it because he loved you. He wanted you to use this money for important things, so you saved it. Then, Bela (the con artist who gave you nothing but trouble) handed over five thousand dollars for when she sold a hand that she stole from a certain rich lady that had the hots for Sam. You added it to the pile.