Chapter Seventeen, Epilogue

A few years had gone by since Dean had cut all contact off with his so-called father and brother, however, that hadn't deterred them in the slightest. They had turned up out of the blue a few months after Dean had cut them off, as he was leaving the house with Amélie to take her to nursery, they had demanded that Dean leave Amélie with someone else - anyone else for all they cared - while Dean came and helped them fight the yellow-eyed Demon. At that announcement Amélie had spiralled, getting so upset that her magic acted up worse than it ever had before and caused her to be sick.

~ Flashback ~

The wind brought on my Amelie's magic ripped ferociously at anything in his path as if a major storm was brewing, street lamps exploded despite being off, branches snapped from trees and bins thrown about the street.
"Shut her up!!!!" John yelled, reaching for his gun, despite that this was his three year old granddaughter that he had just severely upset by asking her father to abandon her without a care.
"You shut up!!!" Dean roared at his father, throwing a rock to knock the gun from his father's hand. He couldn't believe his father was about to shoot his own granddaughter, Dean's precious baby girl. "This is YOUR fault! I can't believe you were just about to shoot my daughter!!! Your granddaughter!!!"

"That's no granddaughter of mine!!" John sneered, looking at Amélie with contempt.
"Get lost!!! Get out of here!!! Both of you!!!" Dean raged at them, especially as Sam stood by and was doing nothing. Gathering his distraught daughter in his arms, turning on his heel and marching back into his apartment, locking every lock on the door before slumping onto the sofa rocking them both softly as he ran his hand through her hair.
"Shhh. Shhh baby girl, Daddy has you, and Daddy is NEVER going to leave you. Not now, not ever, I promise. I love you." He murmured soothingly, humming her favourite song that always calmed her down. Slowly Amelie's magic eased as the toddler calmed down, comforted by her father until she cried herself to sleep.

As soon as Dean heard her sleepy sniffles he whipped out his phone and called Charles and Claudette as well as Bobby, before calling the nursery and informing them Amélie wouldn't be in today. Ignoring Sam and John knocking on his door, Dean busied himself with his daughter knowing and comforted in the fact that he knew Bobby would escort John and Sam out of New Orleans (by shotgun point if he must, as Bobby was desperate to shoot John and now Sam) and Charles, Claudette and the Coven would put up a barrier spell so neither they or any Demons enter New Orleans again.

~ End of Flashback ~

That day, five years ago, when Dean first received the call from Bobby that the toxic double act had left and then the call from Charles informing him the barrier was up was the last day they had heard from them; and Dean was glad of that fact.
"Daddy." Amélie called, tapping his nose causing Dean to scrunch it up, which successfully pulled him from his thoughts.
"What's the matter baby girl?" Dean asked his little Witchy Princess, but she wasn't so little anymore as today was the day she was starting her third year of primary school as she was now eight years old and looked more like her mother with each passing year.

It left a nostalgic tenderness in his heart, but he wouldn't have it any other way. His heart and soul would always belong to Simone and there would never be anyone else; but he had also lived up to his promise and loved Amélie enough for the both of them and he'd kept her safe and as far away from the hunting business as he possibly could.
"Could you do my hair for me please, Daddy?" Amélie asked, holding out the brush and little hair bands, as was their daily routine. Immediately a smile stretched across Dean's lips as he pulled Amélie into his lap tickling her for a while until they were both breathless with laughter, before he held her close in a comforting hug and a kiss to the temple.
"Right, what shall we do today?" Dean asked, brushing his daughter's long blonde hair.

"Little plaits joined together at the back, please." Amélie requested.
"Little plaits coming right up!" Dean announced dramatically, getting a laugh from his daughter. As Amélie delved into the game she and her friends made up, Dean smiled listening attentively, adding in questions and sounds of agreement when was needed; always Amelie's most devoted and avid listener, a sigh of contentment filled the air as Dean cherished his lot in life and agreed that nothing was better or more perfect than being here for and with his daughter; his own personal peace, his sanctuary, and his heaven.

And if he had to do it all again, he would go through all the pain and turmoil of his youth just to give his daughter the complete opposite; giving her the safety and security where she flourished from his and their families love, comfort and adoration. He was happy and content not being the words hero, he didn't need that, all he needed was to be his little girl's hero and that was more than enough; in fact, it was perfect. His little Witchy Princess.

The End!