Jemma Winchester One Shots

Sleepless Nights

Word count: 1852

I'm so excited I'm going to see In the Heights tomorrow ahh

Warnings: nightmares, mentions of abusive mother

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September 30, 2008
12:09 pm

Dean still couldn't believe he had a daughter. He hadn't even known her for two weeks and she already had him wrapped around her finger.

Jemma was very shy. No one could touch her without doing it very slowly and they had to talk to her like she was a scared animal. Dean couldn't blame her; she was scared, she didn't know him or Sam or Bobby very well. Her mother had abused her, abandoned her, and left her with three strange men. How could she not be scared?

Dean walked out to the living room, where Jemma was sitting on the couch, reading a book. She looked up at him, then quickly looked back down at her book.

"Hi, Jemma," Dean said gently. "Are you hungry for lunch?"

She nodded.

"What would you like to eat?"

"Can I... can I have a peanut butter and jelly sandwich please?"

"Of course. Y'know, I love peanut butter and jelly sandwiches too."

Jemma met his eyes and gave him a small smile. Dean went to the kitchen and made her her sandwich. When he returned to the living room, Jemma was gone. He checked her bedroom, but she wasn't there either.

"Jemma?" Dean called. "Jemma! Jem—"

Dean stopped as Jemma appeared in front of him. "I had to go to the bathroom," she said quietly.

"That's okay." He set the plate down on the table. "Here's your sandwich."

"Thank you." Jemma sat down and ate her sandwich.

The rest of the day went smoothly. Dean knew that this was going to be a slow process, getting Jemma to be comfortable with him and her new life.

"Are you ready for bed?" Dean asked her at around eight o'clock.

"Yeah." Jemma rubbed her eyes and made her way to her bedroom, Dean following. Once she got into bed, Dean turned off the light. "Goodnight, Jemma."

"G'night."

He shut the door. She hadn't addressed him as anything since the first night Dean was home and she called him "Daddy."

Dean stayed up for a few more hours before heading to bed himself.

~

The next morning, Dean woke up at around four o'clock to the sound of floorboards creaking.

He opened the door slowly and squinted. He could see a small silhouette in the hall—Jemma.

"Hey," Dean whispered. She whirled around. "What are you doing up?"

"I-I wanted a glass of water." Her voice was wavering.

"Let me help you. The glasses are up high."

Jemma sat at the kitchen table as Dean flipped on the light. He could see tears in her eyes.

"Hey, are you okay?"

She nodded. "I'm fine. I just want a glass of water, please."

"Okay." Something was wrong. She must have had a nightmare. Dean took a glass from the cabinet and filled it with tap water. "Here you go, Jemma."