Sam Winchester's Daughter

chapter I

 Rebecca knew she saw Sam Winchester walk into a motel room. His muscular built and soft hazel eyes never left her mind. With this realization, she found herself facing the chipping blue paint of the motel room door. It fit it's theme, "The Seashell Motel". With her, she had the toddler she did not give up on, Charlotte, resting on her waist. Now five years old, she seemed to inherit her father's hazel "puppy-dog" eyes and light brown sleek hair. This was a whole difference from her mother, who with her Spanish roots, had brown that appeared black hair, yet grey-blue eyes.

 Feeling that time was slipping away as she stared at the chipped door, she finally knocked.

 "Momma, what are we doing?"

 "Just going to say hi to a few friends, sweetheart."

 The door was opened a slit, as the lock was still in place. It seemed as if the man behind it was suspicious of who would be knocking on this particular motel door. He seemed to have the young Winchester's hazel eyes, yet more green and worn out. His short styled hair was different than Sam's long hair.

 "Who are you?" demanded the man behind the door with a husky voice. Seems like he just woke up.

 "My name is Rebecca Hearst. I'm here for Sam Winchester."

 Dean Winchester took one look at the now sleeping Charlotte and shut the door in Rebecca's face. In the room, Sam himself was seated at a small desk with his laptop. Curiously, he peered up at his brother.

 "Who was that?"

 All Dean could do was stare at his younger brother. In all honesty, he hoped the woman outside was just a monster, and not who he thought it was.

 "D-do you know of a woman named Rebecca?" stuttered the oldest Winchester.

 "Hearst?" Sam's curiosity grew with the mention of someone from his past. Dean nodded his head slowly.

 "Sammy, you better answer the door. And I hope this is not what I think this is going to be."

 Slowly, by his brother's request, Sam Winchester rose up from his chair. He gave a little stretch, for he was seated for a while trying to search for a case. With each step to the door, the suspense of what may happen made his heart pound a bit harder than usual.

 With a click, the brass lock came unloose. Sam opened the door to a wide-eyed Rebecca Hearst.

 "Well, h-hello Sam," stuttered Rebecca. Although she dreamed of this moment for five years, she still couldn't get the shock out of her voice. Sam appeared older, hair longer, his baby face still apparent yet more manly.

 "Becca," stated Sam. His heart shuddered from the sight of a woman who he had a "thing" with so long ago. Then, his eyes landed on the resting toddler wrapped around her. "Who's..."

 "This is your daughter, Charlotte."

 "What?!" This question came from a different voice, Dean's. Sam looked back at his now freaked out brother and closed the door behind him. Now it was just him, Rebecca, and his daughter standing on the motel's balcony.

 "Is she really?" he pondered. Rebecca rolled her eyes in annoyance. She just stated that Charlotte was.

 "Well, after you left me, I found out I was pregnant. I didn't want to go with an abortion so I raised her myself. I graduated last month in psychology."

 "Becca..I am so sorry."

 "I don't need an apology. I think your daughter here just needs to know who her father is."