Someone's Daughter

H. H. Holmes

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The next morning, Blake Winchester and Milo sat at the table beside Jo. Dean slept on the couch Dean, while Sam went and got coffee.

All night, Blake had been listening to Jo talk about the case. The girl's slightly bonding with each other as they share their love for hunting. Jo more than Blake, but the seven year old was happy to listen to the girl rant.

Hearing a grunting sound come from the other side of the room, Blake turned her head and watched as her father slowly sat up. Rubbing his sleeping face as he turned to face the three.

"Morning, princess." Jo says, as she twirled her knife between her fingers—so effortlessly, Blake wondered how she did it.

"Where's Sam?" Dean asked, stretching his body as he stood up.

"Went to get coffee." Jo says, turning back to the files and blueprints that scattered the table.

"Ugh. My back. How'd you sleep on that big sofa bed?" Dean asked, clearly a little grumpy.

"I didn't." Jo says. "Just been going over everything here with miss Blake."

Blake smiled as Dean raised a brow at his daughter, shaking his head, he grabbed a bag from the couch, moved over to the table and placed the bag down. He zipped it open and shuffled through it before he took out a small Bowie knife.

"Here." He says. Ignoring the strange look his daughter was giving him.

"What's this for?" Jo asked, placing her knife down and taking Dean's.

"Would work a hell of a lot better than that pig-sticker you're twirling around."

Giving Dean a pointed look, Jo grabbed her own knife and handed it to him and waited. Blake raised a brow at the action, not really sure what was going on. To be quite honest, she felt like she was intruding on a moment.

Looking to Milo, she nodded her head towards the couch and together, they quickly walked over and sat down. Blake had wondered to herself if the tv worked, so, grabbing the remote that sat on the table, she pressed the power button. She smiled happily as she flipped through the channels.

W.A.H. The knife read. Dean's shouldered slumped as he handed her dad's knife back to Jo.

"Willam Anthony Harvelle." Jo says.

"I'm sorry." Dean said, he took his knife back and put it back in the bag, then moved it onto the floor and sat in the chair Blake was previously. The sound of the tv played in the background of their sudden silence.

"What do you remember about your dad? I mean, what's the first thing that pops into your head?" Jo asks,

Dean quickly shook his head. Was he really about to have this conversation with Jo, of all people? He rarely talked about his dad with Sam. And they usually needed up fighting about it more than talking.

"Come on, tell me."

Man was she determined. Dean couldn't help but appreciate that she wouldn't back down. No matter how many people kept telling her to, she didn't seem to care. It kind of reminded him of Blake.
Turning to his daughter, he watched as she and Milo were focused on the screen before them. Though, he knew that Blake was most likely listening in on their conversation.