I've been told that at the end of this chapter Sam is acting a bit "Dean", but after Heart, I've revised my opinion of Sam. As always, BIG THANKS to everyone following this. I do try to keep up with and respond to all reviews, positive/complaints/suggestions/questions. Also, continual thanks to hotshow and Brigid Tanner for their efforts in keeping my writing coherent and on track. (Still taking suggestions on what Sam's condition could be. I've had some interesting ones so far!)

Chapter 19

Dean grabbed his tool rack, shoving it against the wall. Rae's English teacher was a complete bitch! He stormed to the manager's office, needing to explain yet another day off. Unfortunately, Sam had his car. This musical car thing was really turning into a royal pain in the ass. Not only did his boss give him the day off, but gave him the loaner car again. Dean swore it would be the last time. Okay, there was no way he could back that one up, but it sounded good.

He drove the loaner car up to Rae's school. After signing in at the front office, Dean made his way through halls thronged with students. Suddenly the hall was empty except for one or two kids and a bell rang. Well, at least he was not too late. He hurried to reach Miss Grimmault's classroom.

As he raced around the corner, he saw a line of students leaving the classroom. Dean stood to the side, waiting and watching. Rae was not in the line. He peeked into the classroom. She sat in her chair, arms crossed over her chest, staring down at her desk.

"Psst!" Dean hissed into the room. "Don't you have some research to do?"

Rae's head snapped up. "Dad? What are you doing here?"

He grinned at her. "If you have to do your research in class, then I guess I have to go to the library with you. Come on, Sunshine."

She smiled, snatching her bag off the floor. Rae raced out into the hall. Dean had to jog to keep up with her. "So," he breathed as they hurried to catch up with her class, "make the track team?"

She scowled. "Yes."

Dean nodded. "I can see why." He could almost feel her eyes roll at that and chuckled to himself.

They reached the library with the class stragglers. Rae took a seat as close to the door as she could, pulling out a chair for Dean. Dean slid into it, pulling out the magazines he stopped to buy before coming here. Okay, it made him like half a minute late, but at least he would have something to do while Rae did this research thing.

He flipped through his new Car Craft magazine as the teacher explained the assignment. He half listened, tuning in just long enough to learn the kids had to put together a poetry notebook based on a theme. Miss Grimmault handed out a list of theme suggestions. Dean made a point of ignoring her when she came to Rae's table, pretending to be engrossed in an article.

Once the kids were turned loose to do their research, he noticed a number of boys hovering around. At first Dean thought they were trying to get closer to Rae, but then he realized they were trying to read the magazine from over his shoulder. Dean shooed them away, keeping an eye on Rae. Kevin was the only boy not to take his not so subtle hints. Figured. Every time Rae had to leave his line of vision looking through the bookshelves, Dean timed her. Anything over ninety seconds, he was up looking to be sure she was okay. Sam would call that paranoid; Dean called it better safe than sorry. Kevin kept watching him with an odd look on that sneaky young face. Dean started keeping an eye on him, too.

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Miss Grimmault leaned on the librarian's wide, rounded desk. "Are you watching this?" she whispered.

The librarian, Lydia, shrugged using one shoulder. "What's wrong?"

Miss Grimmault pointed out Mister Cooper with her eyes. "Him. The way he follows her around, won't let the poor kid out of his sight. It's just ridiculous."

Lydia leaned forward. One of the kids from her class came up with a question. Lydia pointed the clueless child in the right direction before answering. "But he's really cute."

Miss Grimmault glared at the woman. "Not that I'm arguing, but what does that have to do with child abuse?"

Lydia's eyes widened almost comically. "Child abuse? You mean, you think?"

"The child is scared to death of adults, won't even answer a question in my class," she hissed, purposefully leaving out the slight possibility that could be partially her fault, "hardly has any friends to speak of, and did I tell you about the paper she wrote in class?"

Lydia wrapped a hand around her forearm. "What?" The younger woman seemed to hang on her every word.

Miss Grimmault relayed the story of the bear attack to Lydia. "Now, isn't that the most ridiculous thing you've ever heard? That child has absolutely no social skills whatsoever. Do you know who her best friend is?"

"Who?" Lydia leaned on a fist, as enthralled as she had been when they had discovered the former school principal was having an affair with the assistant janitor, who happened to be the head janitor's wife. Really, what janitor came to work in high heels?

"Only the biggest social outcast of the entire grade." Miss Grimmault nodded knowingly.

"No!" Lydia breathed. "Amy Simmons made a friend? Well, it's only a matter of time before that girl drives her off. The last one lasted, what, two weeks?"

"Now how would you know that?" Miss Grimmault asked.

"Amy is one of my best customers. Haven't seen her for a couple of days, though. That probably explains it." Lydia shrugged, eyes alight with gossip.

Miss Grimmault checked her watch. "Probably. Well, I'll see you with the afternoon class. Amy is in there, maybe you can ask her."

Lydia grinned. "Maybe I will."

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Dean made sure he had the time of Amy's English class before leaving the school. As long as he had the day off, he had a couple of errands to run. Not the least of which was finding a car for Sam to drive. He could not take sharing his baby too much longer.

It turned out to be a good thing Sam made him call Dolan, though the ass overdid it again. That man just had no idea of what constituted 'reasonable.' When Dean arrived at the bank, fake id in the name of Dean Cooper in hand, the freaking bank president came out to meet him. They even called Dolan to verify his identity. Way to keep low-key, he thought, grinding his teeth. After twenty minutes of flurried activity he discovered the reason; Dolan set up the account with over a quarter of a million dollars in it. Dean had been hoping for enough to cover a half decent used car. Well, that was covered.

He left with several hundred in cash and one of those banking visa cards that drew directly on the account. Dean figured he could use it to buy a car for Sam. Next question was if he should let Sam pick something out or just show up with a decent car? Dean decided to just pick something up, Sam's tastes sucked.

Dean headed straight back to the shop, having already decided. Okay, it was going to be more car than Sam could probably handle. Tough. It would also be really cool and something he would not mind working on occasionally. Not to mention the fact that he had pretty much rebuilt the whole damn thing himself anyway, so he knew it was in great shape.

His boss was more than a little surprised when he whipped out the card to buy the SS Chevelle parked out front with the for sale sign on it. Dean drove it to the school, anxious to be there in time for Amy's English class. Once again rushing through the school halls with his magazines tucked firmly under his arm he rounded the corner to the library, and he saw Amy's face light up.

"Hey, cutie," Dean gave her a little hug, "so you have this research thing too, huh?"

"Yes, sir, Mister Dean." Amy beamed at him. "Rae said you'd be here."

"Yep," he held up his magazines, "and I'm prepared." He grinned at her. His reception from Miss Grimmault was frosty at best. She even tried to block him from coming into the library. Dean very politely explained that she could either move, or be moved.

While he sat through a second hour of early teens desperately trying to understand the basics of library research, which he denied knowing anything about, Dean's cell phone rang. Even if he wanted to help the kids understand the basics of research, he'd be damned if it was about poetry. Dean fished out his cell.

"Hello?"

"Dean, what size shirt does Rae wear now?"

Okay, that sounded like Bobby's voice. What the hell? "Excuse me?"

"I found this cute shirt. Now what size does she wear?"

Dean scratched the top of his head. "Uh, what kind of shirt? T-shirt?"

"Yes."

"Girl's medium. What's going on, Bobby?" Some of the kids were staring at him. Dean glanced at Amy. She beamed as she looked up from copying a poem into her notebook in perfect girl handwriting.

"Nothing special. You know I hate showing up empty handed."

Empty handed? "You're coming over?"

There was a deep sigh in his ear. "I take it Sam didn't mention it. Look, Dean, I'm sorry. If it's an inconvenience I'll just head back home after I give Rae her shirt. That okay?"

"No, Bobby," Dean struggled to keep his voice to an acceptable library level. Where did Amy get to, anyway? "It's fine. You know you're always welcome. Just caught me by surprise is all."

"Well," the word was drawn out so long Dean knew Bobby had an uncomfortable point to make, "since you never did tell me where you picked to live while Rae is in school, I kinda figured you preferred an old hunter like me stay out of the way."

Dean winced. He felt that pressure encircling his chest, and where had that girl gotten to? He stood, looking for her even as the air refused to go in his lungs. With his free hand he fumbled for the stupid medicine bottle lodged deep in his pocket. He might have to thank Sam later for insisting he carry it around all the time. "Bobby, come on," he said with a shaky breath, "you know better than that."

"Do I, Dean?" Bobby snapped.

Great. In all the confusion and fuss of finding a place to live, choosing aliases to live under for up to a year at least, and all the crap that came with public school, he forgot to make one little phone call. There was Amy, down the next aisle. When did they start putting such big libraries in junior highs? Okay, so it was an important call, and he really couldn't breathe right now. Dean slumped against one of the book racks, dropping his cell in favor of getting the stupid bottle open. Shit!

"Mister Dean?" Amy ran up to him, face shining with concern. "You all right?"

Dean tried to smile, to nod reassuringly, while he battled with the child proof lid. Child proof, huh? More like adult proof. Then Amy proved it for him. She snatched the bottle from his hand and opened it in one deft motion. He held out a shaking hand for her to dump a pill into it.

"Just one?" she asked softly.

He nodded, placing it under his tongue. Within moments he could feel it start to work. The steel bands around his chest eased enough to allow him to draw in air and his legs felt more steady. "Thanks, kid." He smiled as he patted Amy on the shoulder, taking his bottle back and shoving it into his pocket.

His eye caught the discarded cell phone lying on the floor. Damn it. Dean swooped down on it, grabbing it up. "Bobby? You still there?"

No answer. Shit! Dean called Bobby back, hoping the old man would answer.

"Now what?" Bobby's voice was gruffer than usual.

"Bobby, I'm sorry. I really am. I should have invited you over right after we moved in. It's just been…hectic." Dean tried to slow his breathing. The pill's magic was working, but it would take more time to feel the full effects.

"Dean, didn't you just hang up on me?" Bobby demanded.

"No!" He winced at the fact his voice was far louder than he had intended. Dean motioned for Amy to follow him out into the hall. "I just dropped the phone, Bobby, I swear. I even have an eyewitness if you don't believe me."

Bobby chuckled. Dean hoped that was a good sign. "Well, I'm not going to believe your eyewitness if she's female."

"Sorry, Amy," Dean winked down at her, "he won't believe you either."

"Who's Amy?"

"Friend of Rae's. I'm keeping an eye on her while she does some research for English class." Dean explained. Why didn't he call Bobby before now? It wasn't like there had not been opportunity. It just never occurred to him, he guessed. Why not? Bobby was probably the best friend they had.

"Why? Ghost in the library?" Bobby laughed at that.

"Maybe," Dean admitted.

"You serious? Damn it, Dean! You should have called."

Dean grinned down at Amy. "I'll let you kick my ass when you get here. When will that be, anyway?"

"Couple of hours, when school is out. Sam said he usually had Rae home by three-thirty."

"Shit, I forgot about Sam. Bobby, see you soon, I gotta call Sam to tell him I'll pick Rae up. Uh, I'll tell him to pick up some more beer, too. Still drinking the same thing?" Dean shook his head at Amy. She was pointing back inside the library. They could join the rest of her class in a few seconds, after he hung up.

"You know it. See ya then, Dean."

Dean snapped his cell shut, relieved at the fact Bobby at least sounded better. Boy, was he an asshole! How could he not call and let Bobby know where they were? Funny, but it didn't bother him nearly as much now as it did a moment ago. He followed Amy back into the library. She seemed anxious to talk to one of the librarians. Kind of plain looking chick, but not too bad, really. Dean flashed her his best smile as he followed Amy over. At least he could get an introduction for all his efforts today.

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Sam seriously considered pulling out that condition to be named later. Sarah flat out refused to go file a complaint about the now ex-boyfriend at the police station. He did manage to get her to take a copy of Officer Steve's card, though. Then Dean called.

"Sarah?" Sam shoved his phone back in his pocket. "Dean is picking up Rae and asked me to stop by the store on the way home, but I doubt they'll be there for at least an hour. And my shift just ended."

"What are you saying, Sam?" Sarah grinned at him. "You naming that condition?"

"Nope, not yet." Sam grinned back. "I was thinking that we had time for some coffee and maybe a trip to the bookstore?"

Sarah swung her purse over her shoulder. "I know of a bookstore with a coffee shop. Let's go."

Sam followed a step or two back so he could watch the way Sarah walked. Oh, yeah, that was the stuff of his dreams.