Note: A conventional oven is mentioned in this chapter. I am referring to a non-microwave, normal-type oven that is small enough to sit on your kitchen counter. I have one that I like to use the same way Dean will here.

Thanks again to everyone reading this and those of you kind enough to leave reviews. As always, all reviews are welcome: good/bad/indifferent. I am always looking for ways to improve my writing. Thanks to Brigid Tanner for proofing this and catching my lazy mistakes!!

Chapter 23

Sam wanted to rest a hand on Rae's shoulder, but she kept her distance the whole way to the car. His car. Wow. Sam actually had his own car and it wasn't a hunk of junk about two fill-ups away from being a candidate for Bobby's place. He wondered if Dean would help him out with oil changes and all that maintenance stuff. Sam already had plenty of experience with washing, waxing and detailing. No worries there.

He held the passenger door open for his niece, the pod-person. Neither of them spoke until he had the car in drive and pulled out of the parking lot.

"So, what's going on, Rae?" Sam asked. They were having this conversation, regardless if either of them wanted it.

He glanced over to see her staring out the passenger window. "Rae?"

She made an odd noise, like a cross between a grunt and a whine. "Nothin'."

"That's a lot of nothing." Sam headed for the public park. It wasn't too far. "What's your problem with Sarah?"

He heard that sound again. Sam held in his own sigh of frustration, turning into the winding road that led through the park. He eyed the spot he wanted. There were just a couple of parking spaces there, in the curve of the road. The location was surrounded by a small grove of trees, affording them some privacy. Sam parked, shutting off the engine and turning in his seat to watch Rae.

"We're not leaving until you tell me what's bothering you," Sam informed her, resting back against the seat.

"Supper will get cold," Rae said, voice flat.

"Tough." Sam stared at her, as though he could will the stubborn teen to look at him. "What's wrong with Sarah?"

Rae shrugged. "No idea. I'm sure there's something."

Sam bit back another sigh. He was getting nowhere fast. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Rae shrugged again, refusing to look at him. "Barely met the woman."

"Well," Sam said, thinking out loud, "maybe she could go shopping with us. She has pretty good tastes in clothes."

"And I don't?" Rae demanded, not just looking but glaring at him now. "So what makes her so much better than me?"

Sam frowned. He hated navigating uncharted territory like this alone. It was always easier with Dean. "I don't think she's better than you, Rae. Where did you get that idea?"

Her eyes flashed away, staring out at the trees again. "You like her better," she mumbled.

The comment was a kick in the gut. Sam closed his eyes to steady himself, steady his breathing. Really, it was a wonder they weren't both having panic attacks. "You think I like her better because I was late?"

Her silence spoke more than anything she might have said. Sam drummed his fingers along the steering wheel, a habit of Dean's. "That was really…thoughtless of me." He turned to look at her again. "You're probably the last person I'd ever want to hurt like that."

Rae's head snapped to the side, shock written all over her face. "R-really?" The tears were in her voice and he could see them starting to well in her eyes. "Then…why?"

Sam held out his right arm, tugging her over. Sarah mentioned that it was a shame the car didn't have bucket seats, but at the moment Sam was grateful this car just had a plain-jane bench seat. Rae leaned into his side, snuggling close. That was more like it. "I guess I wasn't thinking," he admitted. "I know I wasn't paying attention to the time, and I should have been." He reached over with his free arm, to hug her with it, too. "I really am sorry. I promise it won't happen again."

"You won't see Sarah anymore?" Rae's muffled question was so not the response he expected.

Sam pulled her back so he could see her face. "I didn't say that," he replied, wiping her cheeks with his hands. "But I'll never treat you like you're second-best. I can promise that."

She frowned at him. "But why do you want to see her again? Dad never does that."

Okay, should he really try to explain Dean? How could he, when he didn't really understand his brother that well himself. "Well," Sam pulled her in close again, stalling for a little time, "your Dad and I are just different, I guess. I kind of like the idea of maybe getting married someday. I don't think it's ever occurred to Dean."

Her arms clung tighter. "That means you'll leave us."

"Nope," Sam rested his cheek against the top of her head. "Never happen."

"I think living in one place might be a bad idea," Rae mumbled.

"Why's that?" Sam cuddled her against him, the way he did when she was little.

"Because it makes me cry too much," she said into his shirt. "I don't remember ever crying this much before."

Sam grinned into her hair. "Then I guess you don't remember much about that first year, do you? Screaming every night, crying at the drop of a hat."

"Must have been miserable," Rae muttered softly.

"You were," Sam said, wondering when they lost this closeness. He did not realize it was gone until now, holding her tight. "But I think picking such a goofy guy for a dad must have been so he could cheer you up." He heard her chuckle. "That's the real reason you picked him, right?" He nudged her. "That whole making you feel safe thing was a cover, wasn't it?"

She giggled, trying to shove away. He trapped her in his arms as she squirmed in his grip. "Wasn't it?" He dug into her ribs, causing her to squeal and try to wrench herself from him. "C'mon, give!" He laughed, tickling her mercilessly.

"No, no!" Rae screamed, twisting and turning, but Sam was not going to let go, not yet. He stopping tickling, pulling her back against him.

She held his arm across her stomach, breathing heavy. An occasional chuckle escaped her. "Dad is pretty goofy sometimes, huh?"

"Now you're being nice," Sam replied, chuckling with her. "I missed this," he heard himself admit.

"Me, too." There was silence in the car for a while. Sam sat there holding his niece, enjoying the closeness.

Sam held his watch up so they both could see it. "So how long do you think we have before your dad tracks us down and drags us back by our hair?"

Rae giggled. "He usually gives us an hour before he starts calling."

"That means we have half an hour to ourselves," Sam said, resting his cheek against her head again. "So now what do we talk about?"

"How about you explain how if you get married, some day, way in the future, you won't leave us? How will that work?"

Sam grinned out the window, seriously tempted to tickle her again. Damn, she was an awful lot like Dean.

-------------------

"So, what's going on with these panic attacks, Dean?" Bobby tossed his second empty beer bottle in the trash.

"I told you, Bobby, it's nothing." Dean insisted, putting the canned chili on to heat.

"Going to the ER isn't nothing, Dean," Bobby insisted. "And if you expect me to continue being your daddy's stand-in, you're going to tell me." Bobby crossed both arms over his chest, glaring. He knew exactly how stubborn Dean could be, so he figured he wouldn't waste time. Just use the big guns from the get-go.

Dean shrugged, studying the counter. "Won't happen again."

"How do you know that?" Bobby asked in the same stern voice as before. He was not sure he was buying it.

Dean pulled a pill bottle out of his pocket. "They make me feel loopy, but it's better than a full-blown attack." Dean did look at him then. "I'm not doing that again."

Bobby nodded. "What brought these on? When did they start?" He was still having trouble putting 'Dean' and 'panic' in the same sentence. The closest he had ever seen Dean to actually panicking was that time Rae was kidnapped and Sam started having seizures. If that was not enough, what in the world could make that happen to Dean now?

Taking a small tray out of a countertop conventional oven, Dean covered it in foil. His eyes darted to the door briefly before settling on Bobby. "A couple of months before we moved in."

"Really? What happened?" Bobby leaned forward, watching Dean carefully lay out the hotdogs in buns on the tray.

"We were in this pizza place, eating lunch. I got up to hit the john. On my way back, I noticed this kid behind the counter, who freaking worked there, mind you, staring across the place with this glazed look. You know the one I mean." Dean mimicked a love-struck teen, causing Bobby to chuckle.

"And?" Bobby prompted.

"Well, I was curious. So I asked him who the hot chick was." Dean sighed, checking on the chili.

"And?" Bobby asked again, already guessing who the hot chick must have been.

Dean threw the chili spoon savagely into the sink. "The little shit pointed out Rae! Rae!" He glared at Bobby. "That kid had to be at least sixteen, Bobby."

Bobby noticed Dean's breathing growing heavier. "What did you say?"

The grin that came over Dean's face was frightening. "I told him if he came within twenty feet of my daughter, he'd be singing soprano for the rest of his life." The grin dropped and Dean sighed. "Then I went outside until I could breathe again." His eyes rolled dramatically.

"I take it you didn't tell Sam about any of this?" Bobby asked.

"I tried," Dean shrugged, "but Sam wasn't really in a listening mood that day. Just kept talking about which town we could pick. He had the list narrowed down to a hundred."

Bobby found himself blinking hard over that. "A hundred. You're kidding, right?"

Dean shook his head. "I finally made him stick the names on a dartboard and had Rae throw the darts. The three names she hit we looked at, then Sam picked the town of out those."

"Sam picked?" Bobby straightened up a bit. "You didn't have any say in it."

Dean shrugged. "One town is pretty much like another. Didn't matter."

Bobby frowned. He was getting a clearer picture of what was going on around here. "What set off the one that put you in the ER?"

Dean groaned. "It's stupid, Bobby. Let's talk about something else. Any good hunts lately?"

That hopeful expression was almost enough to make Bobby cave. Almost. "Dean. ER."

Both hands ran over that spiky, short hair. "One of the guys from work has a teenage daughter. Sixteen." He gripped the counter. "Her boyfriend is twenty-two."

"Uh-oh," Bobby moaned, shaking his head. He knew where this was going.

"Yep," Dean nodded. "And the guy I work with was going on and on about her being pregnant and how worried he was she might not be able to finish high school." His eyes squeezed shut and Bobby noticed that Dean was controlling his breathing. "Next thing I knew," Dean's eyes cracked open, "I was on the floor and I couldn't breathe. I don't know if Sam ever mentioned it, but I had a heart attack once."

Bobby shook his head. This was news to him.

"That panic attack was worse." Dean actually met his eyes. "When I was electrocuted, I got to pass out. I was awake for the whole damn thing this time." He shook his head. "Not doing that again."

"I'm sure Sam and Rae don't want you to either." Bobby replied softly.

A sad half-chuckle came from Dean. "No. I guess the heart attack still bothers Sam. I didn't know that before." He shrugged again, checking his watch. "They have fifteen minutes."

"Until what?" Bobby asked.

Dean grinned, eyes lighting up. "Until I hunt them down."

Bobby laughed. "Good to see normal living hasn't changed you much, Dean."

"Who, me?" Dean feigned shock. "Change?"

--------------

One hour on the dot. Rae shut the passenger door, looking at Uncle Sam. "Should we wait here until your phone goes off?" she asked, smirking.

Uncle Sam rolled his eyes at her. "Let's not stress Dean out any more today, all right? Hey, any homework?"

Rae shook her head. "Finished it at school," she said, following along behind him.

As they walked along the path to the apartment, all the hair on the back of Rae's neck stiffened. She felt like they were being watched. Cautiously, without breaking stride, she looked around. Nothing appeared out of place.

"Uncle Sam," she whispered, quickening her pace to catch his hand, "something feels wrong."

Uncle Sam slowed down. She saw him evaluate their surroundings. Rae trusted his instincts more than her own. Then she noticed a man who did not look familiar watching them. Using a technique that had served her well in the past, Rae pulled on her uncle's hand to guide his attention to the stranger.

A frown creased Uncle Sam's face at the sight of the man. The stranger did not even bother looking away; making it obvious they were being watched.

"Don't worry about it," Uncle Sam said gruffly, hustling her along to the door. "Probably just a new tenant."

Rae doubted her uncle thought that, especially when he paused just before opening the door to say, "But let's not mention it to Dean, okay? I'm sure it's nothing." She stared at him. If it really was nothing, then what was the harm? As though reading her thoughts, Uncle Sam continued with, "I just don't want to worry him over nothing. Let's see about getting him well first."

She grabbed the hand reaching for the doorknob. "Dad's not well?"

Uncle Sam looked irritated, but a smile erased it. "I was talking about the panic attacks. He's not sick." The last sentence was said with so much force, Rae wondered if it was for her benefit or his. Then he pushed open the door, standing aside so she could go in first.

"About time!" Dad sounded pleased, not angry. "I'm ready to put the Coneys in." Dad and Bobby were in the kitchen, drinking beer. That figured. She was out being grilled in the park until she cried, and they were living it up here. Trying not to look irritated, Rae perched next to Bobby at the kitchen counter.

"Anything new with you, Gramps?" Rae asked, grinning because she just could not help it.

"If I were a grandfather, I don't think I'd like to be called Gramps," Bobby replied evenly, but Rae could see that sparkle in his eyes. She suspected he liked it, especially since he claimed he didn't. "And I might have a little something for you. Wait here."

Rae grinned at Dad, who was just closing the glass door on the conventional oven. He grinned back, winking. Yep, Bobby must like it. It didn't take Bobby long to get whatever it was. Rae hoped it was not another stuffed animal that 'happened' to catch his eye. Bobby thrust the plastic bag at her.

Curious, Rae reached inside. No fur, thank god. She pulled out a shirt. Okay, she could live with a shirt. It was pink camouflage, which made her giggle. She unfolded it to reveal the words, 'Cupid has arrows, but Daddy packs a .45'. Even Uncle Sam laughed!