See? I'm being good - another chapter already!!

Chapter 16

"How long do you think we have before somebody shows up?" Dean asked Sam, leading his family to the apartment.

"Don't know," Sam said from behind him, "I didn't think to check on that kind of response time for this state."

Dean sighed. "Slowing up there, Sammy."

He heard Sam clear his throat. "Sorry, Dean."

He stopped, right in the middle of the path to their apartment. A man stood just outside their door, waiting.

"Well," Sam breathed next to his ear, "that was fast."

"Damn it," he muttered, pulling Rae between him and Sam. Although intellectually he knew it would not do a damn thing, it made Dean feel a little better. "Can I help you?" he called out, surging ahead.

The man wore a cheap suit and a matching smile. Dean ground his teeth at the sight. This guy obviously worked for the government. The man held out a hand as he approached Dean. "I'm looking for the Coopers. Can you help me find them?"

Dean forced his best smile. "I'm Dean Cooper. What can I do for you?"

The man smiled back. "Well, this is fortunate. Mister Cooper," he started when Dean interrupted.

"It's Dean. Mister Cooper was my father. This is my brother Sam," he said, indicating his younger brother over his shoulder.

"And who is this?" he asked, leaning down to be at Rae's eye level.

Dean stepped between them. "I don't believe you've introduced yourself yet."

"Oh," the man straightened up, "I'm terribly sorry. That's very unprofessional of me." He held out a thin hand that matched his thin smile. "Martin James, with Family Services."

Dean continued to smile, stepping closer with his arms crossed over his chest. "Got any id to prove that?"

"Certainly," the man's thin smile broadened as he reached in his coat, "not everyone asks to see it, you know."

Dean tilted his head slightly to one side. "You're kidding. Are people really that stupid?"

The thin smile dropped from Martin James' face for an instant. "I guess so." He handed over his state identification. "I was not expecting to see the entire family at this time. I must have caught you on a good day."

"No," Dean cast a practiced eye over the id. It looked real. "You caught us on a bad day."

"But I guess there's no helping that now. Should we all go inside?" Sam unlocked the door.

Dean blocked the Family Services guy for a moment before standing aside. If this guy really thought he could do anything to his family, he was in for a surprise.

"May I ask why exactly this is a bad day?" Martin James asked as he stood in the middle of the small apartment, looking around. He held a small notebook in one hand and a pen in the other.

"You're here." The words were out of Dean's mouth before his brain had a chance to filter them. The nasty look from Sam told him that, yes, he said it aloud.

"Mister Cooper," Martin James said with a sigh.

"Dean," he corrected again. "Since there are two Mister Coopers here, first names are less confusing."

Martin James weighed that suggestion as he stared at Dean. "Good point." He nodded. "All right then, call me Martin. As I was trying to say, Dean, the function of Family Services is to help families. You should feel relieved that there are people who are worried about Sammie's behavior."

Dean scowled at that. "Yeah, and they're so worried they can't get her name right."

"Excuse me?" Martin paused in his note-taking.

Sam cleared his throat. Dean shifted his eyes to take in his younger brother. Sam was asking for permission to handle this question. Dean shrugged, turning the floor over to his brother.

"Her name is Sammie Rae. Since there are two of us called Sammy, it's less confusing to call her Rae."

Dean quirked an eyebrow at that. It was pretty rare for Sam to admit to being called Sammy.

"You go by Sammy?" Martin asked, scribbling in that notebook.

"No," Sam snapped, clearly irritated. Dean held in a chuckle. "My brother calls me that."

"And that irritates you?" Martin asked, pen frozen in midair.

Sam rolled his eyes, taking a step back, turning it back over to Dean.

"Rae was named for her uncle," Dean said. "It's less confusing all around to call her Rae."

"I was told she was adopted?" Martin stared at him. "How could she be named for him?" He jerked his head at Sam.

Dean clenched his jaw, keeping himself in check before answering. "I changed her name when I adopted her."

"Why?" Martin asked.

Dean's arms crossed over his chest. "Because there was no way I was calling her Clementine." He felt that familiar shudder when he said the dreaded name.

"Thanks, Dad."

He glanced over to see Rae's still guilty face smiling at him and could not help smiling back. "Any time, kid."

Martin cleared his throat. "If you don't mind, I would like to see, uh, Rae's room? Does she have her own room?"

"This way," Dean headed down the short hall to Rae's room. He threw open the door, stepping inside. "Knock yourself out. But that bottom drawer," he pointed to the used chest of drawers against the far wall, "is off limits."

"Why?" Martin asked, looking around.

Dean shrugged. "Girl stuff, I guess."

"You mean you don't look?" Martin stared at him like he was the absolute worst father in the world.

Dean stared back. "If she ever gives me a reason to look, I will. Rae is a good kid. A great kid."

Martin flipped through his notebook. "Apparently she has been displaying some odd behaviors in school. She refuses to speak with adults except occasionally in class. There are only a few kids her own age she has been seen interacting with."

"Amy, Brad and Kevin?" Dean asked. He watched Martin search through his notebook pages.

"Uh, yes. I believe that's correct. How did you know?"

Dean flashed his hustling smile. "Well, you know, lousy parents like me always know the kids their daughter is hanging out with. Met the parents." He shrugged. "Silly stuff like that."

"Mister Cooper." Dean cleared his throat. "Dean. No one is calling you a lousy parent. There are just concerns about Sammie, uh, Rae's behavior. Typically we evaluate the family, possibly recommend therapy. Our goal is keeping families together in a healthy manner."

"Sounds like that's right off the pamphlet." Dean maintained the grin even though he really felt like knocking this guy into next week.

Martin shrugged. "Well, we're supposed to say that. Now, uh, there was something else." He searched through his notes while Dean waited impatiently. "Oh, something about a disturbing English paper that you took?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "This way." He led the thin government man back to the main room. Rae's paper was still in his box. As he reached in for it, he noticed some new books on the coffee table. "What's this?"

Sam sat on the couch. "Photo albums. I picked them up at lunch today. I figured since you weren't hiding your box anymore, you could use something to keep your pictures in."

"Oh." Dean pushed the empty albums aside, looking for Rae's paper. It was still inside his box. He pulled it out, holding it up. "You can't keep this," he told Martin, "I want it back."

"I may need to make a copy of it," Martin said.

"Sam can make you a copy at work and we can mail it to you or something," Dean told him, "but you aren't taking it."

"May I, uh?" Martin motioned to the couch.

Sam stood, inviting the man to sit with a wave of his long arm. As Martin sank down to read the paper, Sam directed his attention to the kitchen. Rae sat at the counter on a stool, her head down.

Dean sighed. Poor kid, she probably thought this was all her fault. He moved to stand behind her, resting his hands on her shoulders. She tensed under his touch. He rubbed gently, leaned down to whisper in her ear, "But you're still grounded."

He felt her shoulders shake and he hoped she was not crying. She turned slowly under his hands until he could see the smile lighting her face. "Promise?" she asked. "For a whole month?"

Dean nodded. "A whole month."

He was gratified when she wrapped her arms around his waist. "Love you, too, Dad."

"Hey!" Sam tugged at her arm. "I agreed to a month."

She laughed, releasing Dean to hold out her arms to Sam. "Love you too, Uncle Sam."

Sam stepped forward for his turn. Dean watched, painfully aware of the goofy smile on his face yet not wanting to suppress it. He liked his family. It was more than all he had left, it was all he ever wanted or needed. Somehow Rae seemed to fill in the giant gaping holes in his family, the parts that were always missing.

A throat clearing distracted him, causing his head to spin back around to Martin. Martin watched them with wide eyes. "Uh," he held up Rae's paper, "I don't suppose there were any witnesses or any way to verify this?"

Dean shrugged. "Well, my brother was there, but I don't suppose you'll take his word for it?" He waited for Martin to shake his head. "Didn't think so."

"Dolan?" Sam asked.

Dean scowled. He actually preferred that man when he was possessed. "Do I have to?"

"Come on, Dean," Sam argued, giving him that 'you know I'm right' look.

Dean groaned as he fished out his cell. "Wouldn't do this for anybody else," he mumbled as he searched for the number. He found it and pressed the call button.

"Dean? Everything all right?" The attorney's voice sounded thin and scared.

Dean found Dolan's reaction perfectly understandable, and it brought a thin smile to his face. "Dolan? Dean Cooper here. There is a representative of Family Services here asking questions about the circumstances of Rae's adoption."

"What kind of questions?" Dolan asked. Dean thought he could hear papers shuffling and imagined the beady-eyed man writing furiously at his desk.

"Right. About the bear attack on her parents. I don't suppose you still have any of those newspaper articles?"

"I do, but they all cite her as Clementine McDermott."

"That's fine. I guess you'll need to fax them copies of the adoption paperwork, too."

Dolan sighed into the phone. "In the name Cooper, huh? Damn, Dean. You don't believe in little favors, do you?"

"Oh, need that fax number, huh?" Dean asked, eyeing Martin. He had every intention of tossing his phone over.

"One minute, Dean. Did you enroll Rae in public school like you planned? Is that what this is all about?"

Dean's hold on his cell tightened. "Yeah."

"Need any money? There's more than enough in trust for her. You can afford to buy a house there or whatever she needs. At least let me send something." The man actually sounded like he was pleading with Dean.

Dean felt the temperature rising in the room. "I'd rather not."

Dolan sighed. "Look, I'll have an account set up in the name Dean Cooper. If you want to draw on it, you can. If you don't take anything out at the end of the school year, I'll close it. Okay? Come on, Dean, let me sleep at night."

He breathed out a "Fine," before tossing his cell to Martin. "Give him the fax number."