Going Places

Sweet Child O' Mine-Gun N' Roses

Three Months from the black dogs incident
Emerson's Point Of View:
"What are you doing nerd?" Sawyer says as she plops on her bed.
"Thinking," I reply flipping through pages of my journal.
"No shit, Sherlock. I meant what's up? I can practically heard the gears turning in your skull," Sawyer remarks.
"Okay, I've been thinking maybe I'm adopted. I really don't look like my dad, other than the height and hair color," I explain.
"Genetics don't automatically make you look like your non-absent parent, Em. You're just over thinking it. Maybe you look more like your mother," Sawyer assures.
"That's the thing. From the pictures that I've seen of 'Jessica', my mother. I look absolutely nothing like her," I continue handing Sawyer the picture.
"Well, genetics work in mysterious ways," Sawyer shrugs with a laugh.
"Okay, smart ass, my point is that I think there's something my dad isn't telling me. I may or may not have copied the entire journal that our fathers always carry around. I also may or may not have snuck on my dad's laptop and looked up some stuff," I explain.
"What kind of stuff?" Sawyer responses.
I hand her my journal.
"I wrote down all of this 'stuff'. First, my 'mother' died years before we were born. If she was my mother, I would be years older than you. Second, two newborns girls were adopted 18 years ago in a place called Kalispell, Montana. They were adopted hours apart. Both of them lost their mothers in mysterious accidents. One also lost her father. They were both killed the early morning hours right after the baby was born. This baby was adopted by a D.W. The other lost her mother in a mysteriously gruesome car accident. The father put her up for adoption and she was adopted by a S.W." I ramble on.
"And you think these two girls are us? Really? You're insane," Sawyer scoffs.
"Well, if they're not, don't you wanna know about your mother?" I question.
"My dad just told me that she wanted nothing to do with us," she sneered.
"I'm driving to Kalispell, with or without you. Mrs. snappy," I acknowledge.
"And you think I'm going to let you go all the way to Montana alone? You thought wrong," Sawyer declares.
"We leave first thing in the morning before Jody wakes up," I smirk.
"Brat," Sawyer hisses.
"Shithead," I remark.
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The morning approaches and we sneak out. In 16 hours, we'll be in Kalispell, Montana. I don't know exactly what we'll do when we get there but that's the Winchester way. I tell Sawyer that maybe we should go check the graves of the deceased parents and search for the surviving one. I read more of my notes to her. Monica and Brad Joseph are the two deceased. Diana Gray is the mother that was killed and Andrew Gray is the survivor. After awhile Sawyer gets bored of my nonsense and turns on a burned CD that her dad made. The next sixteen hours are filled with classic rock and me asking if I can drive the 1999,white, two-door, Tahoe.
We finally arrive and book a motel room. We both sleep like babies. And I probably would've slept until noon if it wasn't for Sawyer blasting "Heat Of The Moment" by Asia.
We head to a local diner to get some breakfast. I pull out my journal, copied pages and articles.
"There has to be a supernatural reason why they were here on in the first place," Sawyer piped up.
"Yeah, but what?" I question.
I shuffle through until I land on an article with Andrew Gray as the cover. The door bell of the diner rings.
"Good morning, Andrew," the weathered waitress greets.
I look up to see the same face from the article, just 18 years older. He's accompanied by a women and two kids. Without thinking, I stand up gripping the article in my hand. I begin to march towards him.
"What do you think you're doing?" Sawyer says grabbing my arm.
"It's him," I say without missing a beat and continuing to walk.
"Excuse me, sir. Are you Andrew Gray?" I ask.
"Depends on who's asking," he replies.
"I'm Emerson Nash Winchester, I think I'm your biological daughter. I was adopted by a S.W. the night my mother was killed," I explain holding up the article.
"Look, kid. I don't know what you want but yes my wife died 18 years ago. I don't know you. That little evidence doesn't make you my kid. Now, if you're done here, I'm trying to enjoy breakfast with my family," he barked.
Sawyer grabs me and leads me out of the diner. She hands me the keys.
"Why do you want me to drive?" I ask.
"Because you're going to be pissed after what I am about to tell you," she says.
"Where do you want me to drive to?" I question.
"I don't care, just get to driving," she shrugs.
I start the engine and begin to drive west.
"I knew the whole time that we were adopted. I knew that your father gave you up," Sawyer stammers as she looks out the window.
"And you didn't tell me?" I clench my jaw.
"I thought your dad should be the one to tell you. I just thought he would eventually. What does it matter? Family don't end or start with blood. Even if that man did want to talk to you, that doesn't make him your dad. Sam has always and will be your dad," Sawyer lectures.
"I guess I just wanted to know where I came from, genetically," I grip the steering wheel.
"Like I said, it doesn't matter. That stuff doesn't make family. See I can't tell you're getting pissed, so blow off some steam by driving," Sawyer says.
I pull over on the side of the road. There's a large amber field framed by mountains.
"What are you doing?" Sawyer questions.
"I need some air," I snap.
I step out of the Tahoe and just start walking into the field.
"I'm sorry.I didn't tell you. I really am," Sawyer apologizes.
I shrug without facing her and continue to walk. I hear the roar of an engine coming to a stop near where I parked the Tahoe. I don't look back. I just keep walking.
"Emerson," a familiar voice calls.
It's my dad.
Before long, he's right behind me. The damn moose must've ran to catch up. Who am I kidding? Three steps and he's probably already half way.
"Emerson, let me explain," he begs.
I stop and turn to him.
"He didn't want me. Did he?" I whisper as the tears begin.
My dad pulls me into a hug. He walks me back to the Tahoe and opens the passenger door. I see Dean and Sawyer at the Impala. A 16 hour ride full of lectures, great.
My dad explains everything. The Manananggal that they were chasing. How I was the final victim. How he adopted me because he felt responsible for me. He tells me everything that I can't remember from my childhood. How he used to hum "Sweet Child O' Mine" by Guns and Roses to get me to sleep. How he used to read "To Kill A Mockingbird" by Harper Lee to me as a toddler.
I can't stay mad at him forever. I look at him.
"Where do we go now?" I say to him.
Sawyer and I are grounded for a month for sneaking out. I am grounded an extra week for making copies and using my dad's laptop without permission.

Author's Note: This chapter didn't turn out how I wanted it to ooppspspps. Yeah, Idk when I'm gonna continue this because I wanna work on other non writing projects tbh.