December 15

The night was alive with the distant hum of laughter, clinking glasses, and the soft strumming of a guitar from the corner of the bar. Despite being a weekday, Ellen's bar was bustling with activity. Having attended to all her tables, Rae had little else to do but return to the counter. With some free time at hand, her thoughts drifted back to Dean. Subconsciously, a deep sigh escaped her.

Ellen, while carrying a rack of glasses, happened to walk past her. "What's up, kiddo? You seemed down today," she observed, her voice filled with empathy as she approached the counter. "Everything alright?"

Rae released another sigh before responding. "Yeah. It's just...I'm struggling to find the right gift for Dean. I don't know what to get him," she chuckled dryly. "I mean, we live together, but..." She let her last statement hang in the air.

"What ideas have you come up with?" Ellen inquired, unloading the crateful of beer steins as the pregnant waitress absentmindedly stowed them away.

Rae bit her lip, deep in thought. "Clothes, but he's quite specific: just flannel, an undershirt, jeans, boots, and he's set. Music's the same deal. But, he's recently been into Taylor Swift. Can't figure that one out," she concluded, shrugging. She couldn't help but giggle as the image of him unexpectedly grooving to "Shake It Off" popped into her mind, so out-of-character.

Ellen concealed a knowing smile. It was apparent to everyone that Dean had feelings for Rae, but Rae herself seemed to be wrestling with her emotions. 'Michael must still have a piece of her heart,' Ellen thought. 'Poor Dean.'

"Rae, sweetheart," she spoke in the nurturing tone of a mother to her child. "You being with him, it makes him happy. Happier than I've ever seen him, truth be told." Rae cocked her head, silently questioning the statement.

"Listen, I've known him long enough to tell you this: family's always been huge for him. He keeps close only those he trusts and a handful of little things that hold meaning for him." Rae looked at her, more puzzled now. Ellen offered a reassuring smile. "I get that this isn't the answer you want, but trust me, the right idea will hit you before you know it."

Rae sighed once more, her hand gently resting on her pregnant belly. "I really hope so..." she murmured. Her pause was a signal to Ellen that there was more on her mind.

"What?"

"Hmm? Oh, nothing," the young woman replied, her gaze momentarily shifting beyond the counter to check on the patrons, making sure they didn't require anything. Apart from the back table's rowdy noise, everyone else was thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Ellen rested both of her elbows on the counter. She had only gotten to know Rae a few months ago, but their connection had been swift. To Ellen, Rae was someone she felt compelled to watch over. In contrast to her daughter Jo, who was out hunting with her husband at the moment, Rae was in her care. Dean didn't have to tell her twice to protect her and his child. "Mary Rae Campbell, spill the beans," Ellen urged with a 'mom voice.'

Rae felt conflicted about whether to confide in her or keep it private. However, when Ellen Harvelle uses that tone, it's hard to resist her. Even Heidi, with her celestial powers, finds it challenging to defy the bar owner. She gave in, somewhat reluctantly.

"I'm know he's been in the 'family business' since before we met, but… I don't know. It's like…," she paused, trying to find the words. "He was home for Thanksgiving, right? But even though he was at the bunker physically, his mind was elsewhere," she said, tapping her forehead. This time, she found herself speaking more freely.

"He stayed for three days before heading out again. Since then, it's like I'm under constant watch. Garth driving me to and from the bar, Bobby keeping a close eye on things. And Bobby, well, you know him," she said with a smirk, picturing the surly man in the corner, resembling a bouncer. Glancing towards the door, she spotted him there, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

"My Bobby? Oh, he's alright. Keeps fussing about me working here solo. Says he doesn't like it, even with the bar full of hunters we've known forever. But you know him, he doesn't really trust anyone that easily." Ellen's reply appeared genuine, but there was still something bothering Rae. Before she could utter another word, the noise of a heavy glass being slammed down on the counter cut through her thoughts. A hush fell over the bar.

"Who do I have to fuck around here to get great service?!" bellowed the obviously drunk man. His long black beard and decayed teeth came uncomfortably close to Rae's face. As she attempted to back away, he swiftly grasped her arm, immobilizing her. "How about you, darlin'? Huh." He got a glance of her stomach. "Seems like someone's already had their fun. But pussy's a pussy. All the same," he said coarsely, chuckling, which then turned into a rough cough.

She froze. She was on the brink of being overwhelmed by memories of Rick, his eyes, his monstrous strength, his body forced on her, his lips on hers...She didn't have time to be scared. It all unfolded in a flash. A shotgun was aimed squarely at the man's chest, and a hand swiftly pried his grip from Rae's arm. "I think it's time for you to leave," came the gruff voice, uncompromising and firm. She didn't need to look to know who it was – Dean's.

"Who the fuck do you think you are?! Go find someone else to screw." demanded the disgruntled man. Just as he moved to grab Rae once more, Dean reacted lightning fast. He twisted the drunken man's arm to his back and slammed his head against the counter. Ellen cocked the shotgun and pressed it to his head.

"Whoever dragged this sorry excuse for a man in here better get him out, now. And make sure I never lay eyes on him in this bar again!" Her voice firm and unwavering, her eyes fixed intently on him. "The next time I see you here will be the last." Dean forcefully tossed him onto the floor, making a statement.

"And let that be clear for everyone here!" shouted the Winchester, his gaze sweeping across all the patrons in the bar, watching in silence.

Rae, standing a few feet behind Dean, shut her eyes, her lips pressed firmly together, hands clenched into fists. Her breathing grew erratic. Ellen observed her with caution, mindful of her anxiety issues. The young woman remained there, internally soothing her nerves. 'Rick is dead.' She thought intensely. 'Heidi killed him. He can no longer harm me and the baby. My baby needs me. OUR baby needs me. ' She felt a sense of safety knowing Ellen was nearby, but Dean's presence in front of her brought an even greater sense of calm and security. "Dean..." She inhaled deeply a few times to steady herself, letting her fear wash over her.

Chairs scraped and shoes shuffled as some patrons moved towards the counter, hauling the troublesome man towards the exit. One of them offered an apology and hastily left a stack of bills amounting to a few hundred dollars before hurrying out the door. Just before the door fully shut, they caught the sound of someone shouting, "Didn't you know that's Dean fuckin' Winchester?!" The Roadhouse earned a lot of money before closing that night.

Once the commotion settled, everybody returned to their conversations and drinks like nothing happened. The shotgun quickly stowed away, Ellen busied herself elsewhere in the bar, Bobby left his usual spot. Dean lingered for a moment, giving the bar one final scan, then turned his attention to Rae, who was starting to regain her composure. Then, unexpectedly, she felt a sensation similar to a kick in her belly. At first, she was confused because she had been told at her last prenatal appointment that she wouldn't feel the baby move until closer to 25 weeks. Yet, she was just at 20 weeks and 5 days. She staggered for a bit, but Dean got to her in time, placing his hand on her back.

"Whoa, whoa. You okay?" Alarm in his voice, holding onto her tightly. Rae smiled at him. Dean barely started speaking when she forcefully grabbed his hand and placed it on her belly. Initially, he was as confused, until he felt what she wanted him to feel: the baby's kick. It was as if to greet him home.

The bar bustled around them, yet in that moment, it felt like they were the only two people there, savoring their shared experience. Dean leaned in, resting his forehead against hers, his hand still on her belly, hers resting on his. Rae's tears quietly flowed, tears of happiness, as Dean beamed with a grin as wide as a clown's. Their baby was actively kicking. He was momentarily speechless. His eyes softening, a genuine, heartfelt smile on his usually guarded face.

"Hey there, slugger," he murmured, voice thick with emotion. "Um, I'm home." Unsure of what else to say or do, "drinks on me!" he announced loudly, ensuring everyone could hear. The crowd responded with enthusiastic cheers. Rae chuckled, tears still flowing, drawing him closer.

"You know, I have to serve those drinks to everyone," she whispered softly.

"They can handle it," he responded, softly kissing her lips. To his surprise, she returned the gesture.

"Welcome home...daddy."