My apologies for the delay, but this chapter just refused to go anywhere for a few days. Today, it took off! Sometimes, you just have to go with a new POV.

Chapter 8

Rae woke Sunday morning. She felt something warm beside her. "Dad?" She turned over and nearly screamed, until she realized it was Amy.

Amy opened her eyes. "Hey. Cool sleepover." Amy sat up. "Never been to one where I got to watch a scary movie and snuggle up to my friend's good looking dad."

"Shut up," Rae snapped.

Amy giggled. "Quit being so jealous. It's not like he'll stop being your dad, you know."

Rae stood, looking at her. "What do you mean?"

Amy shrugged. "Look, when my parents divorced, I got really jealous of my dad, too. I couldn't handle him dating anyone except my mom. I used to throw these fits." She laughed. "I broke dishes, glasses, anything I could get my hands on. But you know what?"

"What?" Amy had to be one of the oddest yet most interesting people she knew. There was really no telling what would pop out of the girl's mouth next.

She grinned. "No matter how terrible I was, he never stopped being my dad. And I put that man through utter hell." Her eyes shined at that. "So, if you ever need any tips?"

Rae laughed with her friend. "Where do you get this stuff?"

"I swear," Amy pointed a finger at her, "if you turn into Kevin, I'll have to disown you. That guy is strange. Even if he does like you."

"He does not," she snapped, reaching for a clean shirt.

"Yes he does. Have you seen the way he looks at you?" Amy demanded.

"I have," Dad said through the crack in the door. "Anybody want breakfast?"

Rae pulled the door open. "You have what?"

"Seen the way that creepy guy looks at you," Dad replied, and he looked just a little scary. Rae smiled at that. "Breakfast?"

"Coming!" Amy piped up, rushing out the door.

Rae slid an arm around Dad's waist so they could walk to the kitchen together. "You get all the juicy details from Uncle Sam's date?"

Dad snorted. "Nothing juicy there. Your uncle is an idiot."

She grinned, surprised at the feeling of relief. "Damn! Almost forgot!" Rae pushed away, rushing back to her room. She thrust a hand inside Amy's backpack, emerging with the blue folder. No time like the present.

"What's wrong?" Dad asked, hovering in the doorway.

"We need to show you something," she said, holding up the folder.

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Amy's eyes darted between the two men reviewing her ghost research. This was definitely the coolest sleepover she had ever been on: pool, scary movies, snuggling, and ghosts. The best part was the fact Rae's dad and uncle at least pretended to take it seriously.

"Any flickering lights in the library?" Rae's Dad asked as he studied them, like they might lie about it.

"I know they've had an electrician out twice about problems with the lights," Amy told him. "I heard the librarians complain about it."

Uncle Sam had his laptop out. "No deaths in the school library in the past ten years. If it is a spirit, it may not be a vengeful one." He looked up at Rae's dad. "Dean?"

Rae's dad leaned over the table, drumming his fingers. "We've looked into less. Okay, girls, we'll check it out. In the meantime," he locked eyes with Rae, "no going to the school library. If you need to do research, you can go to Sam's work."

"Yes, sir," Rae said. It was funny how fast Rae always answered her dad and always agreed with him. Amy would never do that, unless she was trying to lure her dad into a false sense of security. She decided that must be it, Rae was planning for them to look into this ghost librarian thing some more on Monday.

She asked about it later, when they were in Rae's room packing her things. "So what's the plan?"

"Dad and Uncle Sam said they'd look into it. If there's anything there, they'll find it." Rae said with a shrug, like she didn't care anymore.

"Wait a minute," Amy faced down her friend, hands on hips. "I thought all that 'yes, sir' stuff was for show. We are going to talk to the librarians tomorrow, right?"

Rae's eyes got real big, comic big. "Dad said not to."

Amy scoffed. "So? You do everything your dad says?"

"Yes."

There was not a trace of deceit in Rae's face, the girl was an open book of honesty. "Seriously? Everything your dad says? If your dad told you to jump off a bridge, you'd do it?"

Rae's head cocked to one side. "I did."

"You did what?"

"When he told me to jump off the bridge. I did it."

Amy started to laugh, but Rae was not even smiling. "What the heck are you talking about?"

Rae shook her head. "Maybe Uncle Sam was right." She turned around, straightening her bed.

Amy was a pro at weird and unusual conversations, but this one really took the cake. She spun Rae around to face her. "Right about what?"

"Not telling you," Rae said simply, as though that explained everything.

"Really not following. Not only do I think we're on different trains, but your train is in Japan and mine is stuck in a shipping yard or something." Amy stared hard, trying to read in those wide brown eyes what the heck they were talking about.

Rae laughed at her. "Dad said if I thought I could trust you, I could tell you, but Uncle Sam said I shouldn't."

"Tell…me…what?" Amy lost patience with this whole attempt at a conversation about a minute ago and was now just desperate to know what the flipping topic might be.

Rae studied her for a long time, like her friend needed to make an important decision. Amy felt that familiar feeling of judgment. Most of the kids at school judged her pretty harshly, like she was the sore thumb on a handful of perfect fingers that would operate so much better if she would just disappear. She held her breath. Rae had been the first person in a long time who seemed to take her at face value, accept her as she was. She really didn't want to lose that.

Rae bounced down on the bed. After a moment she patted the spot next to her. Amy stared. If she needed to sit down, it was bad news. 'We can't be friends anymore, you stare at my dad too much and you're weird.' As she sat, her breath caught in her throat and her lungs tightened, squeezing all the air out. She felt like her eyes might pop out from the reverse pressure in her body as she waited for the pronouncement.

"Dad and Uncle Sam are really hunters."

Amy waited. The bomb was due to drop any second.

"They hunt things like ghosts and stuff."

Amy felt anger rise up. Now Rae was just making fun of her. "That's not funny," she hissed, tearing welling in her eyes. "You know I take this stuff seriously. If you didn't want to be my friend, you should have just said so!" She felt the hot tears wash down her cheeks, but made no move to wipe them away. If she moved, she was going to collapse.

"What the hell are you talking about?" Rae demanded, jumping up to face her. "Dude, I tell you the big family secret, and you think I'm making fun of you?" Rae slapped herself in the forehead. "Shit, Uncle Sam was right. I have no idea how to deal with people."

"DAD!"

Amy remained exactly where she was, gripping the bedsheets, tears streaming down her face. When Rae's dad popped in, she did not even make the effort to look at him, which showed just how distraught she felt.

Rae pointed at her, shrugging. "She thinks I'm making it up, that I'm making fun of her or something."

"What do you want me to do?" He demanded from the doorway. "Show her the weapons?"

"Please?"

Amy looked up into Rae's pleading face. Either the girl was a much better performer than she appeared during their history presentation, or Rae was for real. She hoped for the latter. It had been a long time since she had a real friend.

Rae's dad came back in about a minute later with a green canvas duffel bag. He dropped it on the floor with the loud clunk signifying it was heavy. He unzipped it, pulling out items one by one. "Shotgun loaded with rocksalt, for spirits. Bottle of Holy Water, good for all kinds of nasties. Gun with silver bullets, gun with consecrated iron bullets. Shotgun with consecrated iron shot. Silver knives. Regular hunting knives." As he inventoried the items, Amy managed to ask a question here and there, like why so much stuff was iron and what was with all the rock salt. Rae's dad answered each question patiently. When he was done, he and Rae loaded everything back inside the duffel.

Rae's dad swung the duffel over his shoulder, eyeing them both. "I was serious about no school library. Not until Sam and I have checked out this ghost. Got it?"

"Yes, sir," Rae answered immediately.

He stared at her. "Okay," Amy mumbled weakly. He left, the door standing open.

Any dragged her eyes back to Rae, who was watching her intently. "You weren't making fun of me?" Rae shook her head. "You seriously believe all this stuff? Ghosts? Werewolves? Zombies?"

Rae giggled. "Let me tell you the story about throwing meat at zombies," she offered, bouncing next to Amy onto the bed.

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Sam waited for Dean in the kitchen. When his brother came in, he rolled his eyes and pulled out a chair to sit down.

"Rae told her." It was a statement, not a question. "How did she take it?" As if he didn't have enough problems with Karen now, this would undoubtedly be icing on the cake. He hated when people hated him.

"She thought Rae was making fun of her," Dean said softly, looking at him with a perfect puzzled expression. "Amy already believes all this stuff, Sam. She just didn't think we did."

Sam barked out a laugh. That was so far from what he expected, yet it made perfect sense. "You know, only Rae could find a friend like that."

Dean shook his head. "We are in so much trouble, you know that?"

"What do you mean? You think Amy will be a problem?" Sam tensed, wondering what was going through that labyrinthine mind of his brother's. There was really no telling. He doubted even Missouri could read anything below the surface level when it came to Dean.

"No." Dean glanced around, as if the girls might pop up any second. "Boys," he hissed. "I mean, she's only thirteen and they're already sniffing around." His face soured. "Hunting her down. Next thing you know, she's going to want to go on a date. A real date, no chaperones." He groaned, hiding his face in his hands. "I can't do this."

Sam reached out, patted his brother reassuringly on the shoulder. "It's okay, Dean. I'll try to find something for you to kill, make you feel better."

Dean's head shot up, glaring over his fingertips. "You ever do that again, and I won't need to go find something." He shoved himself violently away from the table before stalking off to their bedroom, the slamming door echoing in the small apartment.

Sam sat in stunned silence until the girls wandered out. "Uncle Sam? What's going on?"

Sam raked his hands through his hair. "Uh, I'm not sure. But I think I hurt his feelings." Oh, shit, was he in trouble now.