Chapter Twenty-One

Object Lessons

Harry heard the raised voices well before he made it back to the office area. Calling that portion of the station 'the office' was a joke. There were no walls, just a bunch of desks lined up, two by two. Everyone had their own computer and phone, and there the resemblance to an actual office ended. They had bulletins and mug shots plastered on all the walls. One section was devoted to wealthy locals' vacation schedules, so they could keep an eye on the empty homes.

Now that he entered the office, he could see as well as hear Joe shouting. The jackass was red in the face, he was so mad. Harry almost felt vindicated in his low opinion of his fellow officer to see Joe lose it like that. Then he realized why Joe was so angry. The stickers for, Harry assumed, Joe's squad car decorated the walls of the office.

"When did you lose those?" Harry asked when Joe sputtered to a stop for a second.

Joe spun on him, shot him the finger, and then collapsed into a chair.

"We have the tape from the security camera?" Harry asked as he dropped his jacket on his desk.

"Right here!" A cheerful voice announced. Peter walked in waving a VHS tape over his head.

"Hit me!" Harry shouted. Peter slung the tape at him over Joe's sudden attempts to leap at it. Harry caught it like a football, using his body as a shield to keep it away from Joe. He headed for the ancient television with a barely functioning VCR, donated to them when the local high school upgraded to DVD.

After he shoved the tape in and started fast-forwarding, looking for the culprits, Harry realized that someone had successfully broken into their station. And for what? A prank? He nearly bypassed the men dressed in black on the tape while his mind wandered.

They were big guys, comparing them with the desks. The guys tacked the magnets that belonged on Joe's car to the wall. Then Harry noticed a third person, also dressed in black. This one was much smaller, probably the reason he didn't notice earlier. One of the grown men was searching through their desks, until he found Joe's. He did something to it, Harry couldn't tell what. Joe rushed back to check his desk drawers.

The small person in black pointed to the camera. One of the men came to that one, nodded and pointed at it too. The other man joined them after finishing with Joe's desk. They lined up, put hands to their mouths, which were visible through the cutouts of the black ski masks, then turned around. The hands that just touched their mouths slapped their butts. It was a group 'kiss my ass' if he ever saw one.

Harry glanced over, but Joe wasn't paying attention. He was too upset over what had to be some kind of fish guts in his bottom drawer. Harry stopped the tape, popped it out. Looked to him like Joe got what he had coming, especially after holding a gun on Dean's head like that. Joe was lucky all he got were the fish guts and a little humiliation. Harry had the impression that Dean could really have gone medieval on his coworker, not that he had any evidence that Dean was responsible for this. Nope. No evidence at all. Especially after he replaced this tape with one from storage.

With all the attention focused on Joe's desk and its disgusting contents, Harry slipped outside unnoticed. He grinned as he pulled the tape out of the black plastic case, allowing it to trail behind him.

--

"Why are we doing this?" Dean asked as Sam pulled up a fresh search screen on the library computer.

"I told you," Sam hissed, trying to stay out of the librarian's sight. The old bag had hushed him several times already. "Because he needs to be taught a lesson about parenting."

"Uh-huh. And you think that after we teach this lesson, because I assume you're not planning on doing this alone, suddenly his father will want to be an awesome dad?" Dean shook his head. "You're dreaming, Sam."

"Dreaming," Rae chimed in. She sat beside Sam at the table, coloring in her activity book. The kid didn't even bother to look up when she sided with Dean. Too bad, she missed all those beaming looks Dean got on his face every time she did it. "Besides, he's a lousy dad. Gary has a good mom and he's thinking about getting an Uncle Sam. So he's good."

Sam looked at her hard then. He glanced over to see Dean with a dazed expression that matched exactly what he was feeling.

"He's getting a…what?" Dean asked softly.

Rae tore her eyes from her book. "He might get an Uncle Sam." She shrugged. "He's thinking about it." Her attention returned to her book. "He should. They need one."

"They need one? An Uncle Sam?" Sam asked, feeling floored. "Why is that, Sunshine?"

Rae sighed deeply, like they were just too dense to remember to breathe properly. She set her crayon down before looking at them. "Isn't it obvious?" she demanded, glaring at them in turn.

Dean exchanged a confused glance with Sam. "To make us take our medicine?" Dean asked.

"To help you with your schoolwork?" Sam suggested.

Rae rolled her eyes and picked up her crayon. "If you two aren't going to take this seriously," she huffed.

"Wait, wait," Dean said, grabbing the crayon. "We are taking it seriously. Now, what do you mean?"

Dean leaned over the table, keeping his head level with hers. Sam copied his brother, but he rested his head on his hands to appear less intimidating. Rae seemed very irritated.

"Excuse me!" A sharp voice interrupted them. Sam looked up at the overbearing librarian, who must have had a horrible childhood to be such a bitch about Rae being in the 'adult' section. "Do I really need to talk to you about keeping your voices down again?"

Dean, who was closer, turned a cold glare on the old battle-axe. "This is a family meeting. You mind?"

The librarian took a step back. Indecision crossed her face as her eyes darted between the three of them. Sam added his glare to Dean's. She did not say another word, she simply left. Finally. Someone who could actually take a hint.

Sam returned his attention to Rae, who stared down at her activity book. "Why do they need an Uncle Sam, Rae?" he asked.

Dean sank back down into his chair. "Come on, spill," he encouraged.

Rae looked right at Sam, that cute confused expression on her face. "Because you help Dad take care of me. He doesn't have to do everything, like Gary's mom does. You're like a…" Her voice trailed off and her eyes dropped away.

"Like a what?" Sam demanded, shaken. What was he like? He glanced over at his brother. Dean shrugged.

"Dude, I've been trying to tell you," Dean said softly. He leaned back in the chair, spreading his hands wide. "You're the mom." He jerked his head at Rae. "She doesn't want to say it because you get so upset with me when I do it."

Sam's eyes snapped back to Rae. Her head hung low and her cheeks glowed red.

"Well," he said slowly, "as long as she doesn't start calling me mom…" Rae didn't move. "Geez, do I at least get a hug?"

Head still down, Rae jumped out of her chair to slam into his chest. Her arms wrapped tight around him. Sam smiled at the top of her head as he hugged her back.

"Well," Dean said after a while, "I don't know if this is a Hallmark or Folger's moment, but I could use some coffee. Rae?"

Her head snapped up, face color closer to normal. "One of those strawberry drinks?" she asked hopefully, one arm still holding tight to Sam.

"I could go for some coffee," Sam replied as he stood. Rae did not let go, but she held out a hand for Dean to take. Sam snagged his notes as they left. No reason to stay here with a hostile librarian. Whatever happened to that stereotype of mousy, shy, bookworms for librarians? That woman could have been a direct descendant of Attila the Hun.

Dean's cell went off as they reached the car. Sam buckled Rae in to allow Dean to answer. It was probably Bobby, checking in.

"Yeah? … Whoa, whoa…" Dean slid behind the wheel, shot Sam a stern look. "Carol, slow down. What happened?" Dean nodded at Sam's notes. It had something to do with Gary's father. "At the house? … How's Gary?" Dean's fingers drummed against the steering wheel. "He's coming back? When? … Actually, I think we can beat him there. We'll call when we're close."

Dean snapped his cell closed.

"Daddy? What's wrong with Gary?" Rae asked, one hand grabbing his arm.

"He has a lousy father," Dean snapped. He softened his hard voice by patting her leg.

Rae relaxed back into the seat. "So much for my strawberry drink," she sighed.

"We'll get it to go," Sam suggested. "I have a feeling your dad and I are going to need the coffee."

Rae crossed her arms over her chest. "Why do lousy dads always screw everything up?" she demanded.

Sam patted the top of her head. "Because that's the only thing they know how to do."

--

Sam waited until Rae was sound asleep, leaning against him, before he asked the question burning in his mind. "So Carol is pretty upset?"

Dean's head snapped to the side. He glanced down at Rae's sleeping form before nodding. "Yeah, she's pretty freaked. I guess she hasn't heard from him in a couple of years and they ran into him at the store. He started going on about something when Gary came back from getting something for Carol. Then it got ugly."

Sam stared at his brother for a moment. "Ugly how?"

Dean shook his head. "She was hysterical, Sam. I could barely understand her. You're going to need to do some heavy-duty touchy-feely crap with her."

Yeah, that stuff always fell on him. "Great. Really looking forward to it."

Dean gave him a half-grin, the one that pretended to be amused when he really wasn't. "That's why I keep you around, little brother."

"You mean so you don't have to do it," Sam growled. He'd like Dean to take that part, just once, but it would probably end in disaster. Dean didn't discuss his own feelings, much less anyone else's.

They rode in silence for a few minutes before Dean let out a long sigh. "I don't want to beat him up in front of Gary, Sam. The man might be a lousy father, but he's still Gary's father."

Sam chewed his lower lip. He hadn't considered that, and he certainly hadn't considered Dean's viewpoint on that. "Then we'll just have to make sure it doesn't come to that."

Dean gave him a worried glance. "Yeah? You think?"

"Yeah," Sam stated firmly. "It won't come to that."

Dean cleared his throat. "Good," he said softly.

Sam's teeth were on edge. No, it couldn't come to that. That would tear Dean apart, probably more than it would ever damage Gary. Dean didn't have many soft spots, but the ones he did have went deep.

"Call Carol for me," Dean said after a while, "I think we're almost there."

Sam called. She sounded pretty calm and very relieved when she learned how close they were. Sam debated with himself on whether or not to ask what had happened to cause the panicked call to Dean. Carol sounded so calm and reassured he decided to wait until they got there.

"Everything okay?" Dean asked. Sam heard the undercurrent of worry in his voice.

"Yeah. I'll ask when we get there what happened," Sam said. "She said it's the house with blue trim."

"Like the one where that guy is pulling into the driveway?"

Sam was jolted back into his seat as Dean hit the gas. The big black car smoked to a stop in front of the driveway, blocking the other car. Dean charged toward the man giving them a confused look as he stepped out of his green sedan.

"No! Wait! Dean!" Carol hobbled out of the front door. "Sam!" She waved at him. "Stop him! That's not Dave!"

"Dean!" Sam shouted at the top of his lungs. "Dean, stop!"

Dean paused, steps shy of being close enough to beat the guy into oblivion.

"Are we there yet?" Rae mumbled, clutching Sam's shirt in her sleep.

"Yeah. Time to get up, Sunshine." Sam released her seatbelt. She must have been pretty tired still, because she wouldn't get out of the car under her own power. Sam lifted her up and carried her up the driveway, where Carol limped toward the strange man with a huge smile on her face.

"Mark!" Carol called out. "What on earth are you doing here?"