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The first few weeks after she joined their little motley family were tense, to say the least. For the most part, Emma sat in the backseat of the car and stared pointedly out the window, keeping quiet in case her dad decided that her tagging along with them had all been one giant mistake and that she was still a monster, and he would off her right there. Or even worse, send her back to the remaining Amazons to have them deal with her.
And aside from ordering food and a quiet “thanks” for clothes and shoes, things were quiet. Dean and Sam didn’t talk to her, she didn’t talk to them. It was a mutual, silent agreement.
The often brutal silence came to a startling halt after the numerous misadventures Emma had had with Sam and Dean, the latest being a store of cursed objects and, surprise, Leviathan. It would have been a fine and dandy hunt for Dean and Sam, but being a Winchester meant that Emma was entitled to the same crappy luck as the rest of her family.
Emma had been waiting in the car for Sam and Dean to finish whatever business they had in the police station (a ballerina had actually danced herself to death. This was her life now.) when they came out with a pair of (really nice) pointe shoes carried by tweezers. Sam opened the trunk and threw them in with a curt “don’t touch these under any circumstances” to Emma in the backseat. She ‘hm’ed in response.
A complete conversation for the two.
On their way to the store where the shoes (cursed, Emma soon learned) came from, she noticed that they had appeared on the seat next to her. Looking up to the front seat, she noted that neither had noticed this development with the cursed (and really, really pretty and oh, so nice) ballet slippers. Ignoring Sam’s earlier words Emma picked up one of the slippers and noticed that it shrank in size to something that would fit her better than before.
Her eyebrows scrunched together as she examined the shoe, taking off her own, and putting it on, she grabbed the other one to do the same, when she suddenly went flying forward as Dean hit the brakes.
Looking up in confusion she saw his eyes in the rearview mirror, wide and full of fear. His head whipped around and he went pale.
“Emma…”
Sam turned around and his expression became furious, “I thought I told you not to touch those! How did you even get them? They were in the trunk.”
Emma looked between the two men and then down at the slipper in her hands. She felt ice in her veins as she felt the urge to put the other shoe on and
Dance?
What?
“They just- I just- they were on the seat.” She said holding up the other one in her hands. Oh, god, were they going to send her back to Seattle for the other Amazons to deal with her? They were just shoes, but Sam looked almost murderous. Then again, he usually looked like that when he looked at her.
Sam ran a hand down his face as Dean pulled back onto the road and started driving a bit faster than he had before.
“What’s wrong, what’s gonna happen to me?” She asked but neither answered her.
All she heard from the two were ways to get the shoe off in hushed tones, as if they were trying not to scare her any more than she already was. Not possible, and not likely. After all, it’s not like they had tried to keep her from being scared when confronted with a demon for the first time, or when that Howard jerk at Plucky Pennywhistle’s had tried to kill both Sam and Dean.
Not that she had really been scared, she hadn’t.
But right now, when her fucking life was on the line, it would be nice for maybe just a little comfort.
Just maybe.
Without even realizing what she was doing Emma put on the second slipper. She was halfway through lacing it up when she came back to her senses.
She choked on a sob when she realized what she was doing.
“Stop.” She gasped out. Dean turned back to her and did a double take when he caught sight of the fear on his daughter’s face. He quickly pulled over again and was opening her door faster than she had ever seen him move.
Dean grabbed her hands away from the laces and told Emma not to fight him. She only nodded, not knowing how to tell him that she wasn’t trying, that it was the shoes, oh god it’s the shoes, make them stop.
From the other side came Sam coaxing her into lying down so that he could try and get the shoes off of her.
“Emma,” that was Dean’s voice- her dad’s voice. “Emma, I need to you to breathe and not move, I know it’s hard, but we need to get these shoes off so that you don’t die.” She hiccupped a little at that and felt her closed eyes burn with tears.
No way was she going to cry, not in front of her dad and uncle. She wasn’t.
Dean loosened his grip on her wrists, transferring both into one of his hands. Emma was about to ask what was wrong (beyond the horribly, awful fucking obvious) when she felt his fingers in her hair. She froze, even her feet, which had been putting up quite the fight with Sam stilled, and her eyes went wide, all the trapped tears escaping down her cheeks. Dean started carding his fingers through her hair and Emma remained still as her dad tried to calm her. She hadn’t even realized that Sam had gotten one of the slippers off.
Emma looked up at her dad and noticed that his eyes were hard and focused on her uncle who was wrestling with the other foot.
She looked up in time to see the still covered foot kick up and catch Sam under his jaw. Had it been another circumstance she would have laughed, now she just mumbled a wet, “Sorry.”
Finally Sam got the laces loose enough that he was able to yank the offending footwear off of his niece and throw the slippers into a bag, which he then threw back in the trunk.
Shooting one last glance in Emma’s direction, Sam got back into his seat and waited for Dean to do the same.
Sitting up, Emma looked at her dad, an apology for not listening on her lips when he shut the door and climbed back into the driver’s seat, not looking at her.
Wrapping her arms around herself, Emma curled up in the backseat unable to think about anything else than the loss of control she felt in those few moments.
Not about how nice it felt to have her dad take care of her.
Her dad and uncle took care of it all, in the end. Of course they did. That’s what they do.
“Saving people, hunting things, the family business.” Dean had quipped at her after the first time she had seen them hunt and kill something for the sake of a town in danger.
Oh, and Leviathan? Fuck those guys, Emma decided as she contemplated whether it would be worth it to wash the black goo out of her shirt or just throw it away.