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"You don't have to do this, Emma", Dean said, trying to keep his voice calm."I won't hurt you, unless you hurt me."
"Of course I have to do this! Don't you get it? They're all I have, they're my family. They're my entire life!" She glared at him, blade still raised.
Dean slowly shook his head, keeping his face relaxed and honest.
"That's not true. I'm your dad, and Sammy's your uncle." He paused briefly before exclaiming: "Shit, how could I forget? You have a brother, Emma. His name is Ben, and he's twelve, nearly thirteen. We're your family, too. But you know what makes us different from them, your other family? We're not going to ask you to kill anyone." He spoke slowly, looking straight into her eyes the whole time.
Letting out a bark of laughter, Emma shook her head and stared at Dean like he was insane.
"Family?! You're trying to tell me that YOU are my family? More than they are?" she yelled, her voice rising steadily along with her frustration. "Where the hell have you been, then? Huh? Why didn't you stop them from dragging me into this?!"
Dean saw her eyes flicker down to the floor and back up. It wasn't much, but it was enough to let him know the last words to come out of her mouth were not supposed to be spoken out loud. It showed Dean what he'd so dearly hoped to see. Hesitation.
"I didn't realize you're my daughter, not at first. I was at your house when you were little, do you remember that?" He paused, waiting for a response. When Emma nodded once, Dean nodded, too. "I heard you speak. You were just a toddler, but you sounded like a teenager, or something. If I had known then, what you were — what you are — and what they'd do to you, I'd have picked you up, taken you with me, and left the state, no questions asked. I need you to know that, know that I'd never abandon you, or leave you to be raised by those crazy old ladies."
"You're only saying that so I won't kill you", Emma growled, but she didn't sound quite as angry as before.
Dean shook his head.
"Then you're trying to buy yourself more time, to figure out a plan."
"I'm not trying to manipulate you", Dean said, voice full of determination. "I'm being honest with you."
"So what, if I put the knife down and go with you, I'll have a normal, happy life, is that what you're saying?" she huffed in disbelief.
Smiling slightly, Dean said: "Yes and no, depending on how you look at it. Normal as in married with two and a half children, dog, Volvo, and a white picket fence? Not so much. Normal as in being free to use your abilities and strengths around family, and being surrounded by people who love you? Hopefully, yes. Same goes for the happiness."
"Wow, tempting", Emma muttered sarcastically.
Having to bite his lip to keep his smile at bay, Dean failed miserably at hiding his amusement.
"Is the alternative better?" he asked, genuinely curious to hear her thoughts. "Do you think you'd be normal and happy with them?"
"They're like me", she said, simply.
They're amazons, not humans, is what she meant. And she has, technically, more or less grown up with them. Dean can appreciate that.
"If you want to be with them, I get that, you know?" he said, quietly. "I wouldn't think any less of you for it. Not wanting to be with a complete stranger is understandable, so that's really not the problem. The problem is, however, that you'll have to kill me, in order to be with them. You understand that, don't you?"
Emma stared at him in silence for a moment. She was frowning and biting her lower lip in concentration, as if she was trying very hard to evaluate him.
Dean took the opportunity to have a good look, himself. He let his eye wander from her chocolate brown eyes, to her strawberry blonde hairy, down her arm to the hand gripping the blade. He couldn't see much of himself in her, not really. Emma had definitely gotten her looks from Lydia's side. He shifted his gaze back up to her eyes, trying to catch a glimpse of all the emotions she was so obviously fighting to understand.
"I'm scared", she finally said.
Taking a small step forward, Dean answered: "You don't have to be. We can fix this, without anyone dying. I just need you to do one thing, okay? I need you to trust me. Put the knife down, and work with me."
"That's three."
Eyebrows shooting up, Dean looked at her in confusion.
"Trusting you, putting the knife down, working with you. Those are three things you need me to do", she said. She was still clutching the blade tightly and holding it up in front of herself, but she was beginning to relax her stance a little.
"Yeah, I'm not the sharpest tool in the shed, alright? I dropped out of high school and I never got a real education, just a GED. But I so did not fuck that up! Because you need to trust me, and if you trust me, you'll put the knife down and work with me. It's a package deal. Don't try to make me sound like an idiot", Dean said, grinning kindly.
Emma tentatively smiled back, dropped the knife to the floor, and carefully took a few steps back.
Dean quickly reached down and picked it up. After glancing around the motel room, he placed it on top of the fridge.
"Store in a safe place out of children's reach", he mumbled to himself, before quickly putting the safety back on his gun and shoving it down the back of his pants.
"Excuse you!" Emma said, glaring at him again.
It took Dean a second to see it, but she was teasing him, testing her grounds with the sarcasm he'd already shown he appreciated. He smiled at her again, mouth stretching as far as possible, in a ridiculous way.
"Would it be weird if I hugged you?" Dean asked, before he could talk himself out of it. He was just so amazed that the girl in front of him was actually his daughter.
Emma didn't answer, but she did walk straight into his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her nose against his neck.
"You smell like... leather, and... oil, and... whisky, and... rain", she whispered against his skin. "Dad", she added softly.
Dean felt his eyes tear up, and if she hadn't been hugging him so tightly, he'd have felt stupid for being so emotional and girly.
That's the exact moment Sam decided to barge in, complete with heavy breathing and a gun in his hand. He stopped when he caught sight of the pair, father and daughter, hugging.
"She's supposed to kill you", he said, carefully.
"I know", Dean answered. "But she won't."