Disclaimer: You know the drill…

A/N: Oh my god, I am soooo sorry that it's taken me sooo long to get this done! I was busier over break than I assumed I would be and I also had writer's block for a good portion of the holiday season anyway…Now, new episodes are back and I once again have inspiration…

Chapter Four: Right where I want to be…

Sam had been wrong; nearly two days had gone by, and it didn't look like they were leaving Ashland anytime soon. Not that he was exactly complaining, he couldn't force his older brother to leave. Besides, he'd said those words before knowing what they were coming back to.

Sam himself had fallen in love with Lilia, and wasn't ready to leave either. He had a great time just enjoying being with the bright little girl while he gave Dean and Micah time to catch up.

He was surprised at Dean's behavior as well. The first night in town, he hadn't even shared a bed with Micah. Sam wasn't sure if his brother was taking precautions or if he was simply nervous - something Dean rarely was. Early this morning, however, Sam had walked past the master bedroom door and had sworn he heard giggling and laughing from inside while Lilia was still asleep.

"Morning, Sammy," Micah smiled from the kitchen table, where Lilia sat behind a large bowl of cereal. "Dean made breakfast." She laughed lightly, gesturing toward her full cup of coffee and the little girl's Cheerios.

"Where is he, by the way?" Sam asks, glancing around the sun lit kitchen.

"On the phone out on the porch. Sounded important when he answered. I think it might be your dad," she replied, her eyes clouding over with what Sam could only describe as a deep hopelessness - that Dean would leave once again and the beckoning of their father.

Giving her an understanding look, he tries to reassure her, "Don't worry, I'll take care of this."

Turning on his heel, he stalks through the entry hall and out the front door in his t-shirt and flannel pajama pants. The door closes loudly behind him, causing Dean to turn in surprise at the bottom of the steps.

The elder brother is already fully dressed in torn jeans, a gray tee with a blue button down over it, sleeves rolled up over his elbows. One hand holds the small phone tightly to his ear while the other is shoved deep in the respective pocket, obviously fisted in frustration.

"Dean, we need to talk," Sam begins, ignoring the chastising look from his father's favorite son. Dean shakes his head, mouthing 'Dad' while holding the phone at an slight angle away from his ear. "No, Dean, now. This is important."

Dean takes a deep breath, eyeing his brother angrily. "Dad, I'll have to call you back. Sam has something he wants to talk to me about." He pauses while their father asks the obvious question, to which he gives the obvious answer, "Yeah, it's about a job." A few words of good bye and he closes the flip phone, stuffing it into a pocket. "What is it?"

"I can't believe you didn't tell him," Sam states sarcastically.

"What do you want me to say? 'Oh, hey Dad, by the way, while I was on a job last year, I kind of fell in love with this great girl, and when we came back this way, I found out that I have a daughter with her. So, I'm gonna leave the family business and raise my family. Hope you don't hate me.' Yeah, that'd go over well," he spouts, turning his back on his little brother.

"Well, you have to tell him sometime. And, I'm not trying to give you advice or anything, because God knows I'm the last person you'd take it from, but I think that you need to do the right thing, which is stay here with your daughter and the woman you love," Sam suggests forcefully.

"Easy for you to say," Dean scoffs. "This is the life you always wanted. Not for me, remember, Sammy?"

"Well, as long as you keep telling yourself that, you're gonna believe it. Why don't you just admit it out loud: you want to stay. You think I don't see the way you look at Lilia, at Micah? This is exactly what you want in your heart."

Frustrated and speechless, Dean angrily trudges up the steps and into the house. That's all Sam needs to know, that, if nothing else, the seed of doubt about who he really is has been planted in Dean's heart. Of course, Dean had done the planting all on his own, Sam was just trying to help the damn thing grow. Deep down, Dean knew what he had to do - what he wanted to do. And that was to stay here and live the rest of his days in peace, with stability and safety. But he'd spent so much of his life lying about what he really wanted, that even he'd lost track of it.

"Thank god I'm here to let him in on the secret," Sam says to himself before going inside.

In the living room, he can hear the television playing a cutesy kids' show, Lilia seated firmly in the middle of the carpeted room, riveted to the screen by the colors, movement and sound. Noticing Dean heading toward Micah in the kitchen, he supposes it can't hurt to watch an educational show or two with his niece.

"Hey you," Dean says in a low throaty voice from behind Micah.

"Hey yourself," she smiles over her shoulder. She stands at the kitchen sink, washing up the few breakfast dishes as well as the dishes from dinner the night before. "How's your dad doing?"

"You know, sometimes I hate you for being psychic," he chuckles lightly, both hands stuffed in his pockets, looking at her backside. She wears a t-shirt of his and baggy sweat pants, her long dark hair pulled up in a butterfly clip.

"I'm not psychic, exactly, just a touch know. But I know enough to know when it's your dad calling. He has a job for you," it comes out a statement, not a question.

Without answering, he steps up directly behind her, his arms winding around her thin waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. She puts down the plate in her hand, steadying herself against the sink, her eyes closing tightly at his touch. He nods against her, lifting his chin only to place a kiss against the side of her neck.

"You're going, aren't you?" The emotion in her voice is thick, and he can feel her body tense under him.

Again, he avoids an answer, his hands parting and sliding out to her hips, turning her around to face him. She evades his eyes, her fingers toying with the hem of his untucked royal blue shirt. His right hand comes up to cup her cheek, and she leans into him, a single tear making its way down her flushed cheek, stopped by his palm pressed firmly against her skin. He places his lips against hers in a single, loving, gentle, chaste kiss.

"No," he says softly, shaking his head almost imperceptibly for effect and emphasis. "I'm right where I want to be."

A/N: Again, so sorry that it took me so long to get this out there. I only hope that you guys haven't forgotten me:( I'm not sure how happy I am with this chapter, let me know what you think. If you think I need to make changes, let me know…Don't worry, I'll do a lot more explanation in the next chapter about Dean's decision and some ends that need tying up from the first installment of this series. So, let me know what you think and if I deserve to continue!