From The Mind Of Jemma Winchester

She's a Daddy's Girl

Hey guys! I think you can tell by now I'll be uploading once a month. Sorry. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter! This chapter will be written from Dean's POV.
----------------------------------------------
Dean's POV

Dean watches as Jemma runs up to him, kissing his cheek and telling him and Sam to be careful on the hunt.

They are hunting a witch, which always makes Jemma worried. Well, hunting any creature makes Jemma worry about his and Sam's safety.

"Don't worry about us, we'll be fine," he reassures his daughter, who relaxes a little bit. "We'll be back before three." Three in the morning, that is.

Jemma nods.

"And don't stay up late waiting for us," Dean warns her.

Jemma slumps her shoulders. "How am I supposed to sleep knowing you two are out there hunting a witch who can kill you both easily?" She retorts.

"Jemma," he says, taking her face in his hands, "we'll be fine."

She sighs. "Okay, okay."

Sam and Dean kill the witch no problem, and check themselves for hex bags before they return home. Dean is relieved to find Jemma, in her bed, asleep. He leans down and kisses her forehead before walking off to his own bed.

Dean wakes up early the next morning, but not because he wants to, but because someone is poking his shoulder. He rolls over to see a girl, about two, staring back at him. He sits straight upward at this, because the last time he checked, they only have one girl in this house, and she is going on fourteen.

The shocking thing is, she resembles Jemma almost perfectly. Her big, blue-green eyes, and her dirty blonde hair.

"Daddy?" She speaks.

"Yeah, Jemma?" He tests to see if it's actually her.

"I'm hungry."

"Okay, we can get something to eat."

She reaches her arms over her head, and Dean picks her up. Jemma leans her head into his shoulder.

"Sammy, we have a problem," he says at the sight of his brother in the kitchen.

"What's-?" He stops short when he sees the girl. Jemma turns her head toward him.

Uncle Sam!" She exclaims, pronouncing "Sam" as "Tham". She holds her arms out, indicating she wants to be held by her uncle.

"Yeah, I can see the problem," Sam says and glances at his niece in his arms. "What do we do?"

"Well, we do the same thing Jemma did when we were turned little: we kill the witch," Dean says, watching his daughter look around curiously.

"We already killed the witch."

"Apparently not, or else Jemma wouldn't be a toddler."

"What do we do for right now?"

"I'm hungry," Jemma announces again.

"I know you are, Sunshine. We're making some breakfast right now." Dean takes Jemma from Sam and places her on a chair at the kitchen table.

"Dean, she needs a highchair," Sam says.

"I don't need a highchair, I'm a big girl!" Jemma protests.

Dean chuckles. "That's my Jemma."

"We need help," Sam says.

"From who? Cas?" Dean asks.