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Chapter 27

"Hello?"

"Dolan?" Sam asked, feeling his heart still hammering in his chest. "This is Sam."

"Sam," Dolan sounded surprised. "I'm a little busy right now, but what can I do for you?"

"We can't let Rae's link to the McDermott Estate become public knowledge," Sam rushed to say. "It's too dangerous."

"I've noticed," Dolan replied, sounding too calm for Sam's liking. "I'm working on that."

"How?" Sam demanded.

"No offense, Sam, but I usually discuss this kind of thing with Dean. He is the one responsible for her, after all." Dolan did not sound condescending, just anxious not to cross Dean. Sam didn't blame him; people usually did not cross Dean when it came to Rae, not without serious repercussions.

Sam took a deep breath to calm himself, steady his nerves which were still twanging violently from the day's events. "Dolan, just tell me what you're planning."

"Obviously we can't let this go to trial," Dolan replied, sounding unsure of what he was doing, "so I've contacted the local D.A. The estate is offering to pay for the man's internment in a mental health facility if he will commit himself rather than go to trial. From what Dean told me earlier, he sounds like he's a few fries short of a happy meal anyway."

Sam heard the chuckle that escaped him, wondering where it came from. "Yeah, that'd be my guess, too. What else?"

"I'm claiming that the estate's interest is merely that Rae was selected to receive a college scholarship at the time of her adoption, one of the estate's many charities. Oh, and please tell Dean that his bank account will be 'reasonable' by tomorrow. I noticed he already spent nearly fifty thousand, so that's how much I'd like to leave in it."

Sam froze. Bank account? "Dean spent fifty thousand? Dollars? On what?"

"Something to do with cars, probably," Dolan's voice sounded unusually calm, "he spent it at that garage where he works. Personally, I was just glad to finally see him using some of the money."

"That's why he told me to take Rae shopping," Sam mumbled to himself.

"What was that? I didn't catch that," Dolan replied.

"Nothing," Sam said, shaking his head, trying to orient his thoughts. "Anything else?"

"No. Oh, that's Dean on the other line. I thought you two were always together? Bye, Sam."

Sam heard the click as Dolan took Dean's call. He leaned his head back, resting against the seat in his car as his cell slipped from his hand to rest on the seat. His car. Fifty thousand? No way! Dean didn't even like to tip waitresses. Sam cranked the engine, heading back to their apartment and his laptop. What did a SS Chevelle go for anyway?

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After hanging up with Dolan, Dean called each of Rae's friends in turn, Amy last. He considered calling her first, but he was afraid they'd talk so long it would be too late to call the others. Since he had Susan's cell number now, he called her first to let her know that Rae was home and just fine. Then he called Brad's parents. Dean was tempted to laugh when he heard Brad's "thank god" in the background, but it really was not funny. Actually, it was rather comforting to learn she had friends who really cared.

Karen and Amy were nearly hysterical, as he suspected. Dean handed over the phone to Rae and took his spot on the couch, sinking into it with relief.

"How you holding up, Dean?" Bobby asked, eyeing him from the other side of the couch.

Dean forced a grin, but he feared it was pretty weak. "No problem. Just a little tired."

"Take a nap," Bobby nodded toward the bedroom. "Sam will be here soon."

Dean frowned. "What the hell is keeping him, anyway?"

"It's been a hard day on all of you, Dean. I'd guess Sam needs a few minutes to himself, and you probably do, too." Bobby looked pointedly toward the bedroom.

Dean felt his resistance wavering. He stretched. "My back is kinda sore." With a glance at Rae, he told Bobby, "But if she needs me…"

"I won't hold her back, Dean. Promise. Go on, you look like death warmed-over."

Dean chuckled, rolling his eyes. Leave it to Bobby to drive a point home with a sledge-hammer. He gave the older man a grateful nod as he pushed off the couch to head for his bed. He paused at the bedroom door. "Bobby? If Sam doesn't show up in fifteen minutes…"

"I'll call him. Now get." Bobby waved a hand in Dean's direction, his gaze turning to Rae. Dean knew it was a calculated move to instill confidence so he would take that nap. Fine. He felt too tired to argue and besides, it was Bobby. There wasn't much the old man couldn't do. Dean smiled to himself as he collapsed on his bed, feeling secure as his eyelids grew too heavy to hold open.

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Bobby watched Rae pace in the kitchen area, talking on Dean's cell. Grandfather, huh? He was still debating on whether he liked that one. It seemed unfair to John Winchester, even though he was unsure how John would have handled Dean adopting a daughter. Bobby felt he knew Dean pretty well after all this time, definitely better than he knew Sam, but that Grandfather comment sent him for a loop. For Dean to even suggest Bobby as a stand-in for his father was the kind of compliment Dean could not give lightly. Was it this new medication causing Dean to say these things, or did the boy really feel that way?

When Rae threw him a grin from the kitchen, Bobby decided he didn't care why, that he would take it while he could get it. And if she called him Gramps again, he wouldn't argue about it.

"I don't know, I'll have to ask my Dad," Rae said, walking back toward the couch. She raised her eyebrows in question at Bobby. Bobby shook his head, pointing to the boys' bedroom. "Oh, guess I'll have to ask him later, Amy. I'll call you when I know. Bye!" Rae took the phone back to the kitchen and plugged it into a charger.

"Bobby? What's Dad doing?" she asked from the kitchen.

"Supposed to be taking a nap," he answered, slightly disappointed not to be called Gramps.

Rae scowled as she returned to the den area, plunging into the couch. "Why?"

"It's been a long day, Rae. Don't you feel a little tired?" Bobby asked, leaning close enough to nudge her shoulder.

Rae flashed that brilliant smile at him. "Nope, not really. I just feel…"

Bobby waited, but she did not finish her thought. "What?"

She shrugged, still smiling. "Happy, I guess."

Bobby nodded. "Relieved, maybe?"

Rae shrugged again. "If you say so, Gramps." She emphasized the 'gramps', clearly trying to irritate him. She must be in a good mood.

"So, other than kidnapping and ghosts in the library, how is school going?" Bobby asked, trying to find that niche again, that place where they connected.

Rae rolled her eyes, leaning closer to him. "Okay, I guess. Dad's right about my English teacher, though. She's got a hard-on for Shakespeare."

Bobby resisted chuckling, swallowing the smile threatening to consume his face. "Uh, I don't think that's appropriate to say about a woman teacher."

"Oh." Rae fell silent for a moment, pondering. "Guess I don't know what that means, then." She held up a hand. "But don't tell me. I don't want to know. And yes, I know if I ask Dad, he'll tell me. In graphic detail." She grimaced like someone just shoved a lemon in her mouth.

"Would you prefer he lie to you?" Bobby asked, not trying to correct her, just interested in why she thought that way.

"No," she sighed, slouching further into the cushions, "but sometimes I don't want to know everything, you know?"

"Yeah, I know." Bobby patted her knee. "Ignorance is bliss, but it can also get you killed."

Rae shifted to look him in the eye. "Will not knowing what a hard-on is get me killed?"

Bobby chuckled. "Nope, don't think so."

"Good. Want to see if there's a good movie on? Once Uncle Sam gets here, it's pretty much stuck on the history channel." She picked up the remote.

Sam blew in the door, slamming it behind him. He stopped, like he was surprised to see them sitting on the couch. "Hey. Rae? You okay?"

"Fine, Uncle Sam. We were looking for a movie." She pressed the button to turn on the television.

"Don't let Dean hear you," Sam cautioned, "or we'll be watching Hell Hazers again." He paused passing through the room. "Where is Dean?"

"Taking a nap," Bobby answered, eyes glued to the set. From the corner of his vision he saw Sam frown and glare toward the bedroom. Sam must have changed his mind then, because he headed into the kitchen to set up his laptop on the table.

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Sam waited for his laptop to boot, wondering why Dean would be napping at a time like this. Usually after something happened involving Rae, his brother would be so wound up he would pace until Sam forced him to go work out his aggressions someplace, preferably a gym. Now Dean was napping. Since when did his brother nap anyway?

Sam connected to his network provider, pulling up a search window.

Dean slept, sure, but nap? No, that was unlike his brother. Maybe it was related to the medication for the panic attacks. Maybe that made him sleepy. Did that mean Dean took one today? Did he need one before racing out to save Rae?

Sam typed 'SS Chevelle" and 'price' into the search window. Hits popped up. Sam clicked on the first one, his mind elsewhere.

Assuming Dean did not need a pill today, that Bobby was right and Dean only had an attack when he felt helpless, what would explain this napping? And what would explain how relaxed Dean appeared? Was it Bobby? Why would Bobby have that kind of effect on Dean? And why would Dean feel more comfortable around Bobby than Sam?

This search was useless. The prices he was finding for his car ranged from ten to seventy thousand. Surely his brother would not blow fifty thousand on one car. Maybe Dean bought a spare car, too? To have in case the Impala or Chevelle broke down?

Frustrated, Sam snapped his laptop shut. Dean was holding things back, he was sure of it now. What did Bobby suggest earlier? Tell Dean about the stalker then ask about the car. Fine.

Sam stalked across the room, heading for his bedroom, their bedroom.

"Sam?" he heard Bobby's voice over whatever movie those two found. "You sure you want to…" the words trailed off as Sam shot Bobby the 'shut the hell up' look, the one Dean claimed could sour milk. Sam opened his bedroom door, shutting it softly behind him.

Dean looked positively peaceful asleep, far more peaceful than his brother looked in months. And why was it he only noticed this now, after all hell broke loose today? Sam stood watching his brother sleep, unable to bring himself to disturb that blissful slumber.

"Sam?" Dean's eyes opened slowly. "Problem?"

Sam lowered himself to his bed, eyes never leaving his brother. "We need to talk."

Dean blinked a few times, like his vision needed to adjust. His brother sat up, leaning against the wall that served as a headboard. "So talk."

Sam ground his teeth. This was just like Dean, trying to give Sam what he asked for without actually putting any of himself into it. Sam tried to take a few deep breaths, being upset would not help, it would just turn this into a big argument. He did not want an argument.

"What did you pay for the car?" he asked, staring through his bangs.

"What it's worth. Believe, that baby is in perfect condition." Dean grinned, his face lighting up. "I spent weeks on that engine, getting everything just so. Purrs like a freaking kitten, doesn't it?"

"Like a kitten," Sam mumbled, shifting uneasily on his bed. "When did the panic attacks really start?"

Dean looked like Sam just tried to punch him or something. "What do you mean?"

Sam sighed, grasping the back of his neck with one hand. "Dean, I don't think we've been exactly honest with each other lately, have we?"

Dean's eyes widened. "We haven't? Meaning both of us?"

"Yeah." Sam hoped Bobby was right, that this was the thing to do. "Sarah broke up with her boyfriend."

Dean's face split into a wide grin. "You dog."

Sam shook his head. "It's not like that, Dean. He, uh, was starting to get abusive. I think he was already being emotionally abusive and controlling. She has a bruise," Sam pointed to his upper arm, "in the shape of a hand."

He watched Dean's eyes flash with anger. His brother might be something of a womanizer, but abuse was never something Dean tolerated. "She broke up with him? For sure?"

"Yeah, I'm pretty sure." Sam's eyes dropped to the floor. "I think I saw him last night."

"Where? On your drive with Rae?" He heard Dean's feet hit the floor as his brother shot out of bed.

"No. Outside." Sam looked up. "He might be following me."

"Damn it, Sam!" Dean's voice raged in the small room. "And you're just telling me this now?"

Sam nodded as he stood to face his angry brother, knowing he might get a right hook for his trouble. "So why don't you tell me the real story behind the panic attacks?" He could hear the television now. Apparently they were disturbing Bobby and Rae's movie.

Dean's jaw clenched. Sam could see a couple of facial muscles convulse under the pressure. "I want the dude's name," he demanded.

"You'll know as soon as I do," Sam promised, unable to resist the grin he felt over that. It was good to see Dean concerned about someone he barely knew. They had been pretty wrapped up in their own lives lately, not worrying about other people. "So, I told you. You have something to tell me?"

Dean sighed, sinking into the bed. "Fine. But you have to promise not to get pissed."

Sam nodded, hoping he would be able to keep his promise.