BIG thanks to Tona234angel for helping out with a little writer's block I had a few days ago. Kidnapping Rae was her idea, but I didn't want to mention it before because I didn't want to ruin the last chapter for ya! Thanks as always to Brigid Tanner for her proofing and to everyone still following this!!

Chapter 25

"Cute shirt," her kidnapper, Ernie, said. Rae ignored him, focusing on Marty. Marty looked nearly as scared as she felt. "Does your daddy really carry a forty-five?" Ernie's voice was taunting.

Rae shook her head. Dad carried a .38, but this bozo didn't need to know that.

"Didn't think so," Ernie said with a grin. "Too bad. Might have been fun."

Okay, Ernie was seriously creepy. "Marty, I'm going out for some food. I borrowed some cash from your wallet, just like I borrowed your id." Ernie laughed.

Marty shook his head. "What? You want me to keep an eye on your victim? Make sure she can't escape while you have me secured to the couch?"

"She's not a victim!" Ernie shouted. Marty did not flinch, though Rae was pretty sure she did. Ernie regained his composure. "Yeah, just keep an eye on her. I won't be long." Ernie kicked an empty pizza box out of his way as he left.

Marty sighed heavily, his eyes drifting from the closed door to her. "I really don't think he'll hurt you, Rae. Ernie is," Marty grimaced, "well, he's just that screwed up. You wouldn't believe the things his father did to him. Not that it's an excuse." Marty sighed again. "There's no excuse for this. Rae, I swear, I had nothing to do with this."

Rae looked over his bonds and nodded. That was pretty obvious.

"I think he drugged me," Marty continued, again struggling against the duct tape.

Rae looked around. If Ernie was going to be gone for a little while, maybe she could do something. She stood, hopping experimentally. Yep, she could get around like this. She looked at Marty, eyebrows raised.

"Over here. See if you can get my cell out of my pocket." Martin nodded down to his pocket. Rae saw the edge of a cell phone poking out, but the way he was strapped down she doubted he could use it.

Rae nodded, hopping toward him. Maybe between them they could call Dad.

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His cell rang. Dean growled, slamming his wrench down as he pulled out his cell. He was becoming used to the look of it covered in grease, damn it. Why weren't they just on the road? All this therapy crap would have been avoided. Was this really best for Rae? He was seriously doubting it.

The number was not familiar. He hoped it wasn't that Grimmault woman again. "Hello?"

"Dean?" He knew that voice.

"How the hell did you get this number, Marty?" Dean demanded, and his anger faded then resurged as he listened to Marty's hurried explanation. When Dean demanded to know what Rae was wearing and Marty was able to tell him, right down to the color of her socks, he went cold. "I'll be right there."

Dean peeled off his work shirt as he walked out, letting it fall to the ground. He heard his coworker Joey calling after him. Dean ignored it. In the trunk of his car he found a spare shirt and his leather jacket. That was more like it. He popped open the weapons locker in the trunk, taking out his favorite pistol.

"Dean?" Joey leaned in, eyes going wide at the sight of all the weapons. "What's going on?"

"Somebody took Rae," he said calmly, checking the clip before tucking it into his back waistband. "I'm going to go get her." Almost as an afterthought, he took out the shotgun of rocksalt. He checked it and filled one pocket with spare cartridges. Rocksalt didn't kill, but it hurt like a son-of-a-bitch. This asshole was going down.

"Bye, Joey." Dean tossed the shotgun on the seat before hopping in. As he peeled out onto the road, one part of his mind wondered why this did not trigger one of those panic attacks. The rest of his mind told that part to shut the hell up, there was important work to do.

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Sam shoved his phone in his pocket as he ran for the door. Rae was kidnapped and Dean sounded a little too calm about it. If he didn't get there in time, his brother was going to be legitimately wanted for homicide. As he started his car, Sam wondered if Dean called Bobby. He pulled out his phone and it went off in his hand. Bobby.

"Hello?"

"Sam! Did Dean call you?" Bobby demanded.

"I'm on my way," Sam confirmed, racing through the yellow light.

"Good. Meet you there."

Sam nodded to the air as he tossed his phone on the seat next to him, pressing down on the accelerator. As he raced toward the street Dean described and one of the apartment complexes they decided against without ever stopping, Sam wondered what his brother was going to do. He wished he remembered more about the last time Rae was kidnapped and how Dean reacted. That would at least tell him what to expect.

He spotted Bobby's truck as he parked on the side of the street. He waved as Bobby slowed to a stop.

"Where's Dean?" Bobby demanded, slamming his door.

"His work is a bit further away," Sam explained. "Any idea which apartment it is?"

Bobby shook his head. "I tried to ask, but he hung up on me. I guess he doesn't want us going in there without him."

Sam nodded. That sounded like Dean. "We can't let him kill them, Bobby," Sam said urgently. "They'll take Rae for sure then."

"Easy, Sam," Bobby patted his shoulder. "This is Dean's show. We'll play it his way."

Sam glared at Bobby. "You're kidding, right? Dean's show?" Sam nerves were shot and the last thing he wanted to hear was that Dean would be calling the shots. "Do you have any idea what he's going to do?" he demanded.

Bobby's head turned slowly from side to side. "Nope. Doesn't matter."

"What!" Sam grabbed Bobby by the shoulders. "Do you have any idea what you're saying, Bobby?" Okay, he was definitely in panic mode now. "He could kill them! Really kill them, Bobby!"

"Maybe." Bobby was way too calm about this. "But we're doing it Dean's way, Sam."

"Why?" Sam resisted the urge to shove Bobby against that stupid truck. What was it with stubborn old men driving trucks?

"Because that's his daughter in there," Bobby replied calmly. "And I'll be damned if I cross him on this."

Sam found himself staring at the older man. "What?"

Bobby stepped closer, until their noses practically touched. "If Dean's going in shooting, I want to be damn sure I'm behind him, not in front, Sam." Bobby's eyes flashed. "If it were you in there, I'd do the same thing."

Sam stepped back. If it were him in there? He shook his head. "You're not making any sense, Bobby."

A tight, humorless grin appeared on Bobby's face. "That's right, you've never seen your brother like this, have you?" A sharp bark of a laugh erupted. "You've usually been the cause. Well, Sam, welcome to the intense side of your brother."

Intense? Was Bobby kidding? Did Bobby honestly think he'd ever seen a side of Dean that Sam hadn't? It didn't get much more intense than going after Dad, saving Dad, Dean standing up to Dad. Bobby obviously didn't know what he was talking about. The growl of the Impala interrupted his thoughts.

Sam swiveled around to see his brother. The Impala screeched to a halt, Dean springing from the driver's seat clutching his favorite shotgun. That look on Dean's face, it sent a chill down Sam's spine.

"Ready?" Dean's voice was a dangerous growl.

"How we playing this, Dean?" Bobby asked, stepping forward.

"Sam, you check to see if there is a back way out. I want even the windows covered. Bobby and I are going in the front door."

"Dean!" Sam jumped in the way. "You can't just kick in the door. What if, if he's holding a gun on her or something?"

Dean glared at him and Sam had the feeling his big brother was resisting an urge to knock his teeth in. "He won't have time. Besides, Bobby doesn't look threatening. Now go grab a weapon from the trunk. You have exactly two minutes. It's apartment seventeen."

The keys arced toward him. Sam snagged them out of the air then raced to his brother's car. He took his pistol from the trunk, checked the clip, and shoved it into the back of his jeans. "Wait!" he shouted, running up to his brother. "I have an idea. Just let me check out apartment nineteen."

Dean's eyebrow arched at him. "How's that?"

"I'll find out if there is a back way out. The apartments should be built just alike." Sam felt breathless, like if he couldn't find a way of going in with Dean then something really horrible would happen.

Dean nodded slowly. "Good idea. Hurry up."

Sam raced for the apartment next door. He knocked, his winning smile in place. An elderly woman answered the door. "Hello, ma'am. I'm conducting a survey for the fire department. How many ways are there to leave your apartment in an emergency?"

Unfortunately, the interview took a few minutes longer than Sam wanted, longer than he felt comfortable with. Especially when a large man passed him to go into apartment seventeen. The man stopped, watched them for a moment, then entered his apartment. Sam ground his teeth. He just made them miss the perfect time to go in and get Rae by being too cautious. Sam thanked the woman before trudging back out to the parking lot where Bobby and his brother waited.

"The only way out is through the front door or the windows, and some guy just went into seventeen," Sam reported. His brother's facial expression did not change.

"What story did you use?" Dean asked, his voice flat and emotionless.

"Survey for the fire department about emergency exits."

Dean nodded, handing his shotgun over to Bobby. "That'll work." His cell rang. Dean grimaced when he checked his phone. "What is it, Dolan?" His face twisted slightly as he listened. "How much?" He scoffed into the phone. "Don't worry about it. We're taking care of it. What?" He listened again. "Yeah, sure. Whatever. I'll let you know how it goes later."

His big brother turned off the phone before tossing it to Sam. Sam caught it, stuffed it in his back pocket.

"Sam, new plan. You and I go in the front, Bobby backs us up. Ready?" Dean's eyes were beyond intense.

"Dean. You know that guy is going to take one look at you and know why you're really here, right?" Sam asked.

Dean shrugged. "Cuts out the small talk. Let's go."

A strong hand propelled Sam toward apartment seventeen. He doubted he could get out of Dean's grip now if he tried. Sam knocked on the door. No answer. His heart pounding in his chest he knocked again, images of Rae beaten and bloody springing unwanted in his mind.

The door opened a crack, exposing a fleshy face and a mottled green and brown eye. "Yeah?"

Sam's mouth was too dry to speak. He tried, but little more than a squeak came out.

"Sir? We're doing an independent survey for the fire department. Do you know all the emergency exits for your apartment?" Dean said as he pushed Sam aside, a brilliant smile lighting his brother's face.

"What?" The dude pulled back from the door, confusion written all over his large face.

"Emergency exits," Dean repeated, placing a foot in the opened door, "in case of fire? So you know what to do? How to get out?"

"Look," the guy seemed to come to his senses, moving to shut the door, "I'm in the middle of something. Come back later."

Dean slammed his body into the open door, knocking the guy to the side. "Go!" Dean shouted. Sam ran inside, tripping over some empty boxes on his way. He spotted Rae on the far side of the room, wrapped in duct tape. Her eyes were far too wide, too frightened. Sam placed his body between her and the rest of the room. He felt her lean against his back, seeking comfort. Sam pulled out his gun, holding it loosely in his hand, just in case.

Dean knocked the bigger guy, the kidnapper, into the kitchen area. Bobby came in holding the shotgun and shut the door. While Bobby covered the room and Sam covered Rae (literally), Dean fought with Rae's kidnapper. Sam noticed that his brother did not bother to pull his gun, preferring fists to outright murder. He watched as Dean fought all out. The kidnapper was big, granted, but totally out-classed. Dean took a few blows, but Sam knew better than to run to help. Each time his brother got up, coming back harder and stronger than before. Sam was pretty sure Dean could literally beat this guy to death, so he was relieved when the larger man fell and did not get up. Dean reached down, pulled him up by the collar to land two more blows to the jaw.

"Dean." Bobby's voice cut through the tiny apartment, soft but insistent. Dean's head snapped to the side. Sam watched as the tension in his brother's shoulders drained at the sight of Bobby. For possibly the hundredth time, Sam sent a silence prayer of thanks for Bobby constantly interfering in their lives. The man was truly a godsend.

"Sammie Rae?" Dean asked, still standing over the unconscious form of her kidnapper.

Sam felt her try to move toward him. He turned, stuffing his gun in his waistband before picking her up. "She's a bit tied up, Dean," Sam explained, carrying her over. Dean's face paled at the sight of her bound like that.

"Uh, excuse me?" Sam looked down, seeing Martin from Family Services taped down to the couch for the first time.

"What happened to you?" Sam asked, handing Rae over to his brother.

"Drugged, duct taped. I never knew you could actually duct tape people before." Martin replied, shaking his head.

"Leave him," Dean barked. Sam looked over. Dean was carefully cutting away Rae's bonds, but that overly intense look had faded. Dean was in 'Dad' mode now.

"We can't leave him like this, Dean," Sam felt secure in arguing, making a motion to Bobby. Bobby produced a pocketknife and tossed it to Sam, not moving from his position by the door. "Besides, somebody has to call the cops on that guy."

Martin sighed. "Yeah, Ernie went way too far this time."

Sam froze, knife blade inches from cutting away the tape holding Martin down. "Ernie? You mean, you know him?" Anger rose up, causing the knife in his hand to tremble slightly.

"They're cousins," Rae's voice said calmly, clearly. "But Mister Martin didn't have anything to do with it. We think Ernie drugged him."

Sam looked to Dean now, for permission. Dean studied Rae's face before throwing a curt nod at Sam. Sam started cutting away the duct tape, wondering how the hell that Ernie guy managed to get the tape through the couch like that. Judging by the condition of the apartment, he figured maybe he was better off not knowing.