Thanks to hotshow and Brigid Tanner for their proofing and suggestions. (They keep telling me I don't need to mention them. Ha! Like that's gonna happen!) Also a big thanks to everyone following this. Doing my best not to neglect poor Rae any more! Don't want CPS coming after me!!
Chapter 18Sam pulled out his cell. When he saw the name in caller id, his stomach did a flip and his heart beat double-time. Man, did they have some lousy timing!
"Hello?"
"Hey, Sam. It's Sarah. Uh, how are you?"
"Well," Sam rubbed his free hand over his head, "I've had better days." He slid into a kitchen chair.
"Really? What happened?"
Sam chuckled into the phone. How could he explain it? "Sorry, it's just a little too fresh right now. So what's going on? Why did you call?" He really hoped it was something good, like she wanted to go out again.
"Well, I was thinking about your school library ghost. It's been a while, but I'd love to help out with the research."
Sam blinked at the wall, not quite comprehending this conversation. "I, uh, work at the branch library near the school. You could meet me there in the morning."
"That sounds wonderful, Sam! I'll see you then. Bye!"
"Uh, okay. Bye." Sam snapped his phone closed. Now that was a weird conversation. After dinner the other night, he wondered if she would even call and now she invited herself to help with ghost research. Well, at least he would be able to spend some time with her.
When Sam returned to the photo album work at the coffee table, Dean was humming the k-i-s-s-i-n-g song. He scowled, slapping his brother in the back of the head.
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Shrill screams of pure terror split the night. Sam sat straight up in bed, instantly wide awake. A glance to the other bed in the room told him that Dean heard the screams before he did, his brother's bed was empty. Sam jumped out of bed, hurrying to the next bedroom. The door was open and Dean desperately tried to wake Rae. He could not remember the last time she had a nightmare this severe, it had been years.
Sam wondered just how loud Rae's screams were as Dean settled her down, her screaming subdued into sobs and terrified whimpers. She clung to Dean's neck, eyes steadfastly closed and face wet with tears. The knock on the door answered his question.
"Damn," he mumbled, heading for the front door. A quick look through the peephole showed a young man hastily clothed, straight from bed. Sam sighed before opening the door. This scene was familiar and he knew his role. "Can I help you?"
"Everything okay?" the young man asked. "Was the screaming from here?"
"Yes, it was," Sam tried to smile, but lack of sleep and the echoes of Rae's nightmare screams in his mind made it impossible. "My niece had a nightmare."
The young man stared at him a moment, like he was lying. Funny that one of the few times someone chose to call him on something was when it was true. "Okay. All that screaming scared my wife pretty good. If you need anything, we're upstairs."
"Thanks," Sam replied with a nod, shutting the door. When was their next therapy session? Sam wondered what it would take to have both of them sitting in on Rae's session this time. These nightmares, they had assumed Rae stopped having them as severely when the screams stopped, but now that looked like wishful thinking. Were these the same nightmares Rae had when she first came to live with them?
Another knock at the door interrupted that train of thought. Sam opened it without checking first, so he was shocked to see a uniformed police officer standing just outside. "Uh, problem, officer?"
"Yes, sir. We've received numerous nine-one-one calls about screaming." Sam listened feeling dissociated from the whole mess. How long had he been standing in one spot, thinking? How long had Rae screamed before he woke up?
"Sir?" The cop waved a hand at him. "I said the neighbors think the screams came from this apartment."
"Right. Sorry." Sam shook himself, trying to engage his brain. "My niece had a nightmare."
The cop stared at him like he was lying. Huh. Twice in a row. "Must have been some nightmare."
"Yeah, usually. My brother is in there trying to calm her down." Sam jerked his head toward the back of their apartment.
"Mind if I come in, sir?"
Sam stared at the cop. The man was probably in his mid twenties and did not act or look like this was his first call. Would refusing make the situation worse, especially now that Family Services was interested in them? Then it hit Sam, that Martin what's-his-name jerk must have set Rae off. She was scared to death, shaking like a leaf, when he sent her to fetch Sam.
"Why?"
The cop stared at him, face twisting slightly in either concentration or indecision. "The calls were pretty panicked. We need to make sure everyone here is okay."
Everyone here might not be, Sam mused, if this guy burst in on Dean and Rae unannounced. "Okay, but you'll have to follow me. I don't want to scare her." Plus, that comment about 'we need' told Sam the guy had a partner. The last thing they needed at this point was to give the police an excuse.
He knocked lightly on the partially open bedroom door. "Dean? Everything okay?"
"Not really," Dean's voice was calm and in control, but Sam could hear the undercurrent of worry there.
"I need to bring the cops in, Dean. So they can see Rae is okay." Sam said through the door opening, unable to see anything in the still dark bedroom.
"You'll have to get the light."
Sam motioned for the cop to follow, slowly. He stepped inside, opening the door the rest of the way. With a practiced hand, Sam snapped on the small lamp between Rae's bed and the door. What he saw made his heart clench.
Rae, hair wet and matted with sweat, clung to Dean's neck like a lifeline. He sat on the edge of her bed cradling the girl in his arms, whispering into her ear. Her breathing was rough and ragged, an occasional sob breaking through. Shudders wracked through her frame and each time it happened, Dean held her close, rubbing her back.
It was a moment before Sam realized that the cop was not standing behind him anymore. Light from a flashlight played through the room, he guessed searching for evidence of a crime. The cop kneeled in the floor in front of them.
"Hey," he said softly, "I'm Officer Steve. I'm here to see if you're okay."
Rae's arms tightened around Dean's neck. Dean pulled her off his neck gently, though Sam could see it pained his brother to do it. He pushed her arms to her sides, whispering in her ear the entire time. Rae finally looked at the cop, face blotchy and eyes swollen from crying.
"That's better," Officer Steve smiled at her. "Can you tell me what happened? Why you were screaming like that?"
She looked up imploringly at Dean. He nodded, holding her close. "I..I thought…something got Dad." Rae collapsed against his side, eyes shut tight, breathing fast.
"Well, your dad looks just fine to me," Officer Steve said, reaching out to pat her knee. "Honey, was it a bad dream?"
She nodded into Dean's side. Officer Steve exchanged a look of understanding with Dean. "I'll go talk to your neighbors. They'll be relieved, I'm sure."
"Thanks," Dean replied, stroking Rae's hair.
Sam followed Officer Steve back to the front door. Steve handed over a business card. "That must have been one hell of a nightmare."
"Yeah, guess so," Sam said evasively, wondering over the proffered card.
"Just in case you ever need it," Steve said, shoving the card in his hand. Sam closed his fingers around it, watching the officer move to leave their apartment. Steve paused in the doorway. "Usually when kids have nightmares that bad, it's for a reason." He jerked his head toward Rae's room. "She got a reason?"
Sam found himself nodding. "Yeah, a pretty good one," he admitted. "But she hasn't had the nightmares like this since she was six or seven."
Steve's eyebrows shot halfway up his forehead. "Really? That long?" He stepped further away from the front door, into the room. "You mind me asking? What happened?" His eyes drifted back to her door, where Sam was sure Dean was still in full Father Mode.
Sam gritted his teeth. What the hell, they told everyone else. Why not the cops? "She saw her parents killed when she was six. My brother adopted her shortly after that."
Steve let out a low whistle. "Six, huh? Must have been rough." He looked Sam in the eye. "On all of you."
"It was worth it. Still is." Sam replied, suddenly defensive.
"Never said it wasn't, Mister?"
"Cooper. Sam." Sam shook the man's hand.
"Thanks. I need to see if I can settle down your neighbors now. They thought someone was being murdered in here." Steve gave him a small wave before leaving, closing the door behind him.
Murdered? Sam followed numbly, locking the door. Great. There's one more thing for that Martin guy to put in his file. He had a feeling they were going to be on the road again real soon.
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"Sam?" He lifted his head. Did he fall asleep? "Sam?"
Oh, it was that dream. The one where Sarah showed up. But why wasn't she in the slinky negligee? It looked like she was in a dress, and not a very flattering one at that. "Sarah?"
"Since when do you sleep on the job?" she asked, her laugh loud in the small library.
Oh god, he was awake now. This was not that dream. "Oh, uh, rough night." Sam gave her a weak smile, running a hand through his hair, trying to brush it out of his eyes.
"You missed one," she said, brushing away a stray strand. Sarah pulled out a chair to sit next to him. "So, what happened last night?"
Sam shrugged, eyes dropping to his research. "Rae had a nightmare. Pretty bad one, too."
"Really? How bad?" Sarah leaned on the table, close enough he could smell her perfume.
He smiled again, trying to hide his unease. "Bad enough for the neighbors to call the cops."
"Ouch." She nodded. "That's bad."
"Yeah. Anyway, I spent the first part of my shift trying to get her next therapy appointment moved up to today, and the rest working on this." He waved a hand at the stack of papers and books. "There is something odd there, but I can't find it." He groaned, rubbing both hands over his face. "Maybe Bobby will see something I missed."
"Bobby? Who is Bobby?" Sarah picked up a sheaf of papers, glancing through them.
"A friend of ours. Kind of in the same business," Sam explained. He watched Sarah reading through some of his research. She frowned. "What? See something?"
"Yes." She set the papers back down. "That I am totally out of my depth with this."
Sam looked around, his eyes resting on the art section. "Then I have the perfect assignment for you. It would really help me out."
"Name it."
"Our art section is pitiful. Could you recommend some reference books for us? I'm on a budget, but within that budget I kind of have free reign around here." He grinned. "I'd really appreciate it. Maybe take you to dinner again?"
Sarah shifted uncomfortably.
"What? I say something wrong?" Sam was instantly on the alert.
"Uh, John found out about dinner the other night." She said, staring across the room, not meeting Sam's eyes. "He was pretty adamant that I not see you again, even as friends."
"Oh." Sam waited. Sarah did not offer anything else. "So you're here because..."
Now she did look at him. "Because I told him he was being an ass. I've had it, Sam. He went too far this time." She rolled up her sleeve, showing off a large purple bruise shaped like a hand. Sam felt his eyes widen and the rush of blood in his ears. "So I told him we were finished. Done. Totally over."
"Good idea," he said through clenched teeth.
"So I'd really like to go to dinner with you again." Sarah smiled. "I don't suppose you'd…" her voice trailed off. "Unless you'd rather not?"
"What?" Sam's head snapped up from staring at her arm to her eyes. "Of course I want to go to dinner with you. Dinner, movies, bowling, darts, you name it. I'm just having a hard time getting past the fact I want to look up that boyfriend of yours."
"Don't," Sarah laid her hand on top of his. He could feel it was warm and sweaty. "Please. Don't."
He could see the fear in her eyes. "Okay, I won't. On one condition."
"What?"
His anger dissipated as he stared into her eyes. "Oh, I'll think of something."
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Well, what should Sam's condition be? I'm wide open to suggestions!!