So, I said I'd get this chapter up by June or July. *Checks Date* *Shrugs* Honestly, I fully expected this.

Hello to anyone who's still around! I was so blown away by the support that I've gotten from this story! Like, it's by no means my best work, so I was so excited and happy with your approval! Thank you so much!

You are all amazing and I love you all. I'm so excited to see how many more start reading this as the story goes on!

This chapter is a re-write of the first. Bear that in mind

Hi I'm not the owners of Supernatural. I don't own it. If I did, would it be such a homophobic show? No. Would everyone die? No. Would the fandom finally have reason to live? Probably not but I'd like to think that I could help with that.

Dean sat anxiously on the couch, his eyes flickering around the room. It was a small room, but all of it was loved. The couch was pink, dulled out from age and covered in a crocheted blanket. The window had light peeking through and a gentle breeze flowed into the room. There's about a hundred framed photos in the room, and even more books on the shelf.

He tried not to look at them.

The little girl, he knew, couldn't be older than eight months old. If she was his, that is.

He had to keep convincing himself that she couldn't be his.

Fatherhood was an impossibility for him. Simply an impossibility. His life was not one that he would bring a child into.

His eyes stopped on a little bunny, white with a pink bow, which was left on the floor.

He leaned down and picked it up, holding it in both his hands and staring into its eyes as if they would hold answers.

How had this happened?

He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He knew exactly how this had happened, and he was trying to deny the thought that he had no one to blame but himself.

There's a noise in the hallway and- Heather? Harper? She'd introduced herself again when she'd contacted him- walked into the room, and apologetic smile on her face.

"Sorry," She sighed, flopping into the seat across from him. "Just got her down to nap."

Dean tried to smile reassuringly, but fell short in what probably resembled a grimace.

"'s okay." He mumbled, fiddling with his hands anxiously.

"So," The woman continued. "I'm Rikky," He wasn't even close.

He decided that small talk was off the table.

"How do I know she's-"

"I have papers."

He closed his eyes.

"Those could be fake," He began.

"Is now really the time for denial, Dean?" She asked gently.

"She's your daughter." Rikky said. "She needs you."

A stray tear found its way down Dean's cheek, which he didn't bother to wipe away.

"What could I do for her?" He didn't know how that question sounded to her, or how he even wanted it to sound, but he was certain that his voice had cracked.

"I can't raise her." The woman before him said.

His heart sank in his chest.

He couldn't raise her either. He couldn't- wouldn't- raise her to be a hunter. He couldn't raise her without a home or any sense of consistency- he wouldn't hurt her like that.

"I- I can't raise her either."

The woman only smiled.

"Yes you can. You've got to. You're the only shot the kid's got,"

He was about to object when he was cut off.

"She isn't human, Dean."

He blinked, then stared at her, wide eyed.

"What do you-"

"Dean, I need you to understand something." She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and smiled a wan smile.

"It's imperative that you listen."

He only stared at her.

"I'm not human. I'm an angel."

"Angels aren't-"

"You need to listen, Dean." She sighed, closing her eyes. "It's a lot to take in, but you can handle it. You have to."

"I don't know what-"

The woman stood up and crossed the room, waving a hand at Dean and somehow shutting him up.

She pulled a frame off the wall and handed it to Dean.

"Her name is Alyssa."

The baby in the picture had eyes that matched his. She was smiling, clutching at a remote while lying on the floor. He forced his eyes off of the image.

"I can't do anything for her."

There was a whole lot of emotion behind the words, and he prayed to God- or whatever deity existed- that she understood him.

"She will grow up with powers. She will be stronger than you know,"

The woman before him smiled sadly.

"And I can't be there for her."

Dean shook his head.

"I don't know shit about kids." He said.

"You'll have to learn, then."

"I don't know anything about powers- Angels aren't real."

The woman pressed her fingers to his forehead and in a flash, a thousand thoughts seemed to cross his mind.

Images of humanity, images of war, of demons and angels and God and Lucifer and of what history looked like. All came along with emotions that were overpowering on their own, and all at once he felt crippled while facing them.

He barely processed any of it, but as soon as the images stopped he found that his entire body was shaking and he was gasping for air, tears running down his face.

He doubled over, clutching over the top of his head and trying to calm his breaths down.

He felt a gentle hand on his face and it was then that he noticed the tears.

"I am sorry, Dean." The woman sighed.

"But you're being difficult. I need you to understand how important it is that you are the one who takes care of her."

Dean found himself nodding, somehow finding that he understood her.

"No one will approve of you taking her."

He shook his head, feeling himself calming down.

"You're the only chance she has. Angels and demons will both hate her, if they ever find out about her existence, she's over."

He swallowed, nodding.

"I'm dying."

His head jerked up, panic evident in his eyes.

"How can I-"

"You will figure it out."

"I won't."

She closed her eyes, crossing her arms.

"Follow me,"

She walked away without another word and he found himself following her.

They walked into the only room in the apartment, and Dean tried to push back memories of the last time he'd been there.

She crossed the room and scooped up the tiny baby, then turned to him, handing her over.

The little girl stirred a bit but settled down, snuggling into his chest.

"She is here because of you. You are her father."

She stared hard at the baby for a moment.

"I've been a parent for her. I'm running out of time."

"I can't be a parent to her. I can't be anything for her- or anything else. What kind of a life would she have with me?"

Was he really looking at an Angel?

"Let me put it this way for you," She stepped closer, and it took every ounce of self-control he had not to shrink away. "If you aren't anything to her, she will die."

He swallowed, hugging the child a little closer.

"Okay," He said breathlessly. "Okay."

The task in front of him was daunting, and he was entirely terrified of everything that was to come and everything he'd have to do. He only hoped that the good would outweigh the bad.

Thank you so much for reading! Sorry for the weak ending, but I'm tired and I don't want to put off updating any longer. If you like it leave a review! That always makes me super happy! (Seriously, just let me know if you're still reading. You don't have to say much just like one word is amazing.)