Title: Gen fic: More Than a Feeling Chapter 1: Don't Look Back
Author: Ghostwritermuse
Chapter Word Count: 3,306
Chacaters/Pairings: Dean, Sam, OFC (Grace)
Rating: PG-13 (though later chapters may change upward)
Beta(s): I owe so much to the wonderful 9thof9 LJ for all her coaching and help, as well as tigriswolf LJ for her awesome help with the tense abuse that I just can't seem to stop. Any mistakes you find are mine, I really do try not to touch it once I've had the final approval, really I do :)
Feedback: Absolutely, I've been writing for some time even though this is my first time posting in the Supernatural fandom. I live and breathe for concrit.
Disclaimer: The only that belongs to me is my imagination, the rest belongs to Warner Bros and Eric Kripke! No harm or ownership intended by writing this.
Spoilers/Warnings: Set Post Season 2, so anything up to and including AHBL pt2. Also this story is told from the POV an original female character.
A/N: I started a version of this shortly before Folsom Prison Blues then put it down, only come back to it after AHBL knowing this was the way I needed to go. I find myself amused over and over as the summer has gone by with the revelations about next season as I've had mine for several months you, damn you Kripke
Summary: A female hunter crosses paths with the Winchesters. Entangling her life in theres, her beliefs and past come to be challenged, is she what she always believed or is there more to her? Will the past repeat itself of is there something to be found to stop it? The War is here and the demons are raging, will anyone survive this.
Chpt. Summary/Notes: Chapter 1 is set in that empty time after 2.20 What Is and What Should Never Be but before All Hell Breaks Loose Pt1. Grace meets the Winchesters and its not exactly the best of encounters.
A new day is breakin'
Its been too long since I felt this way
I don't mind where I get taken
The road is callin'
Today is the day
-Don't Look Back, Boston
Harvelle's Roadhouse, Nebraska
Grace consulted the map again and sighed. This still doesn't make any sense. What am I missing? she thought. Tapping her fingers on the map, she brushed her dark bangs from her eyes and looked over the notes next to her once more, before scanning back over the map.
February 82 - Guthrie OK
April 82 - Peoria, Illinois
June 82 - Providence, Rhode Island
June 82 – New Platz, New York
August 82 - Sacramento, CA
August 82 - Manning, CO
Oct 82 - Lawrence, KS
Oct 82 - Defiance, OH
Nope, still doesn't make any sense. What were they doing? What did they see that I'm not? These are all over the map, for the most part—I just don't get it!
"You like anything else to drink?" a slightly rough-voiced woman asked.
Grace looked up, instinctively dropping her hands over the map protectively. "I'm good, thanks." She smiled, looking at the half-emptied bottle of beer and back to the bartender.
"You don't need to worry here; we all," she nodded her head at the papers, "know about that."
It took Grace a long moment of fear and two more of slow calming breaths to realize the bartender was talking in general and not specifically about her research. Grace gave a small, tight smile before slowly looking around the bar. It had been just what she was looking for when she stumbled across it earlier. Slightly off the path, a bit shady and likely to let her get lost in the corner while she worked on her notes and thoughts with little hassle to hit the drink minimum. For the most part, it had lived up to her expectations: the clientele were rough and ready, after a bit of drinking, for a fight - but it was a bit quieter, too, tension underlying conversations and movements. But then, these days, everyone was a bit more on edge, though few really knew why.
"Name's Ellen." The bartender leaned slightly toward her, propping her hip against the bar, drawing Grace back from her thoughts.
"Grace," she replied slowly as the conversation levels around her dropped just slightly.
"You look like you're wrestling a bit of a problem there. Anything you might want help with? We have all sorts of," she paused and gave a smoky laugh, "experts around here."
Grace stared at her a moment in surprise. A complete stranger was asking to look at her work and talking to her like she had a clue. "Wh- what?"
Ellen laughed again. "Honey, we all have something we're working on here. We share when we're comfortable, of course, and help each other - pass info around, that sort of thing." Grace just continued to stare in shock at Ellen. "Honey, I figured you knew that when you came in and set up shop here." She paused and shook her head. "You didn't, huh? Just figured you'd found a spot to blend in the shadows for a few hours and go over your notes." She nodded out toward the general room. "Pretty much like them."
Grace finally tore her eyes from the bartender and quickly scanned the room, surprised at what she now saw. Groups of two, three and sometimes four people huddled around the room talking, but always with some bits of paper or folders, even, sitting nearby while they played cards, drank, and talked. Turning back to the bar, Grace spotted two men across from her, watching; Grace knew they were paying close attention—Almost guarding, she thought.
Dismissing them, Grace looked at Ellen again, still stunned. Swallowing, Grace shook her head and gave a half smile. "Guess I found the right place, huh?" That brought a chuckle from Ellen who broke the growing tension around them, and Grace let out a breath.
"So, what's your thing?" Ellen asked, leaning against the bar casually, wiping out the inside of one glass before moving to the next. At the confused frown on Grace's face Ellen nodded out toward the bar. "Joe over there," she pointed to a man with his back to the wall playing cards with another man, "does poltergeists and wandering spirits; Steve's more interested in the un-dead: vampires, zombies, and the odd possession."
A cough behind her brought a smile from Ellen as she moved slightly to include the two men at the bar into the conversation. "Sam and Dean here are more your average demon chasers."
"We aren't your average anything," the one who Ellen had nodded to as Dean replied with a wink and smirk.
"Reaper clean-up," Grace said with wide eyes as she tried to take in all of what was going on around her. Three pairs of eyes bored into her, disbelief and surprise written clearly on their faces.
"What?" Ellen finally managed with a frown.
Grace blinked at them and calmly repeated herself. "Reaper cleanup." After a pause, she realized they had no idea what she was talking about. "Well, you see, a reaper is –"
"A harbinger of death. Yeah, we know what a reaper is," Dean cut in, resting his arms on the bar. "We also know Reapers can't be killed, so what's left to clean up exactly?"
Grace's face lit up with a smile for a moment and she looked at the three tense people before shaking her head. "Well, see, that's not entirely true, but—" She raised a hand to forestall Dean's comments before continuing, "That's not what I mean, either. I meant, I clean what reapers leave behind or miss." She smiled brightly at them, but it turned slowly to a frown at the sudden defensive shift of the two men opposite her.
Ellen pulled her attention away, though, with a small cough. "I still don't think I understand what you do, honey."
"Oh, well, as I was saying: I clean up after reapers, moving on restless spirits and souls that are left behind because the reaper either missed them or couldn't get them to move on. Or in some cases, the reaper never made it to them at their death. I mean, really, with the small number of reapers, it's not all that surprising that they'll miss something. Or a lot," she mumbled under her breath before shaking her head and smiling again.
"Ghosts? You just kill ghosts," Dean interrupted, a dismissive tone in his voice.
"Usually they aren't even that definite. Mostly they're more like energy at the point that I arrive. But, for whatever reason, they cause problems for those living around them. That's where I come in." Grace waved her hands slightly down toward herself.
Dean gave a snort that spoke volumes on his thoughts about her usefulness and what she's just said. Grace's eyes narrowed as she fought the need to defend her craft. "Excuse me, my family has been doing this for over a century, and while it might not be as glamorous or exciting as 'demon chasing,' it serves a necessary purpose and isn't really as easy as you'd think!" Grace glared at Dean, tapping her fingers on the bar to emphasize her point and agitation.
"You'll have to excuse my brother," the other one, Sam said, interrupting their staring contest with his slow drawl. "He can be an ass."
Grace turned to him slowly and blinked in surprise. Her entire body tensed at the rush of energy that came over her before dropping her eyes to the bar, taking a slow breath. Whoa! she thought, what the hell was that!
Blinking twice before she looked back up, Grace put a slight smile on her face and looked at Sam, ignoring Dean completely. "Excuse me—that was rude."
"You said your family's been doing this for a long time?" Ellen interrupted again. "I've been in these circles a while; I know most of 'em out there. What's your family name?"
Grace looked at her a moment and obviously debated saying any more before giving in. "Wesson," she finally said quietly.
"Wesson." Ellen turned that around in her head a couple times. "Can't put a face to that name, but why's it sound so familiar?"
Grace simply stared back, almost ready to let it pass, but something told her to trust them. "You have a revolver? Semi-automatic?"
"Yeah." Ellen looked at her oddly.
"Then you've probably seen my name."
"Smith and Wesson!" Sam said with a dark laugh.
"Yeah, that Wesson." Grace flushed as she looked at the two laughing men.
"What's so funny?" she finally asked with narrowed eyes.
"Winchester." Sam pointed at himself then Dean.
A smile quirked Grace's lips and she looked down, shaking her head. "Oh, that is funny."
Suddenly Grace's pocket vibrated and she nearly jumped before reaching in and pulling out her phone. Flipping it open, she quickly read the text message.
Ohio – Simple Clean
3 days – call me. - T
With a smile, she shut the phone; before she could do anything else, Ellen pointed at the map. "What's so important about Lawrence?" Both men's demeanour changed and they leaned forward which caused Grace to frown in confusion.
"You have Lawrence, Kansas, circled there." Ellen's voice hinted at her suspicion and uncertainty once more.
Grace looked down and then back up with a closed expression. "It's nothing."
"Lawrence, Kansas, isn't nothing," Dean growled.
A bit surprised by the sudden return of hostility, Grace continued frowning and reached to gather her things. "Look, I don't know what your problem is, and—not that it's any of your business—but these are the cases my parents worked the year before they died." She tapped the map and continued to throw things into her bag after a moment. "I appreciate the offer of assistance with this, but, really—I don't have anything to share, and right now I'm not even sure what this means. I just know that there's something I'm missing. I will figure it out though and I'll do it on my own, thank you." She growled the last part as she put the rest of her things, including the map into her bag.
Sam placed a hand on Dean's arm and shook his head. "Look, this may sound crazy, but…" He looked over at Grace, slightly pleading. "Dean and I are from Lawrence. Considering the things we've dealt with in the past, we're interested in anything and everything that pops up on the radar about Lawrence. To us, it is a big deal," he finished quietly.
Grace rubbed her temples and looked around the room carefully; things seemed good and Sam was sincere, again she had the feeling that she could trust these people. Dropping back onto her stool, she nodded her agreement. "Really, I'm not sure there is much of anything here." Grace began to fiddle with the map as the brothers stood and moved around to her side of the bar. She watched uncomfortably as they took a spot on either side of her looking over her shoulder at the map on the counter. Shifting she tried to find a space to squeeze out from between them before finally pulling herself and the map out with a glare and moving to the side of Sam. "Like I said, these are the cases my parents were working before they died. I've looked for any connections, but nothing's coming to me." She threw her hands up.
Dean and Sam leaned closer once more to study the map. As Dean looked down, he froze. "Sam."
"I see it," Sam answered tersely.
"See what?" Grace leaned toward them, surprised, looking back and forth between the silently-communicating men.
"Hello! What do you see?" Grace smacked her palm down on the map.
Sam looked at her slowly. "What were you parents working on when they died?"
"What do you see?" Grace fired back. Something uncomfortable settled in her stomach as she watched them. Sam just continued to look at her, so she answered, "I don't know exactly. They never really put it in their journals. All I know is that it was important and old." Grace frowned, trying to think of exactly what her parents had written. "It's really frustrating because they were always so incredibly detailed about their work, except this once." Grace looked questioningly at Sam. "I also know," she paused dropping her voice, "that it killed them." Taking a breath, she let it out slowly. "Whatever they were working on killed them; I just don't know what it was. They died in a fire in Arizona."
Sam's eyes went wide and he shot a look at Dean before turning back to her. "How old were you?"
Grace frowned again. "I was around a year and half—no, wait, I was coming to my second birthday."
Sam's shoulders dropped at that. "Never mind then."
Grace leaned back, confused by the questions. Looking at Sam closely, she tried to read what was going on but just got more confused. Shaking her head she looked over at Dean, who continued to study the map and notes.
"Doubt she'd be alive right now if she was one, Sammy."
Grace's eyes narrowed and she started to roll up the map. "All right, I've shared; it's your turn now."
Sam looked up. "Well…" He paused, looking around, and then slid himself closer taking the map from her hands and meeting Dean's eyes with silent instructions to move closer as well, before continuing. "It's a really long story but basically, Dean and I have been after a particular demon for a long time. This demon targeted certain families for attack and he sometimes used fire to get rid of those who got in his way."
Sam looked down at the map and pointed. "Lawrence—that's our family. Saginaw is Max's family. Peoria's Ava and Guthrie is Andy." After a moment, he said, "These places stand out to us. The dates are off, though." He frowned.
Grace leaned over and caught Sam's eye, confused by his comments. "So what are these, people you've hunted then?"
Sam shook his head, glancing to Dean a moment before looking back. "They all were attacked by a demon we think, well I guess that's not entirely true, some were attacked, others are just 'gifted kids', but these dates are all too early for the kids."
"You were attacked by a demon?" Grace looked at him, stunned, and then leaned forward, studying him closer. It clicked, and she leaned back, widening of her eyes. Looking over at Dean, it was like she was hit again.
The brothers shared a look before turning back to her. "What?" they asked in unison.
Grace waved her hand at them as she looked up at the ceiling, cursing herself. It had been a long time since she had been that obvious. "It explains some things, Sam. Well, you too, Dean, but I wasn't looking since it's really not something I'd expect in someone, well, living."
She stopped babbling at their looks and tried again. "Let me rephrase. I see energy around people: it's a gift that's run in my family for generations." She smiled reassuringly at them, or at least hoped she did.
"Sam, your energy is different from most people and I figured it was something but…" She shrugged, trailing off. "Anyway, I've run into a few people here and there with similar patterns, so it's not the first time I'd seen it. I didn't think much of it until you said that."
The men stared at her a long moment until Dean laughed sharply. "You see auras? Read tea leaves and crystal balls, too?" he finished snidely and rolled his eyes.
Grace turned her eyes slowly toward him, counting to ten and holding tightly to the reigns of her patience. "At least I haven't been marked by death," she looked around him, "two times."
The momentary surprise and pain that appeared in Dean's eyes made her feel guilty. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for," she said quietly and dropped her eyes to the bar a moment.
"Look, whatever. We all have things that we can do that others can't, or won't believe in. That's the way life works," she said with a shrug and then glanced back up at them. "The point is, I can do what I can do and I see what I see and that's that. By the way, Dean, I'm not in the habit of correcting mistakes, just cleaning up after sloppy reapers, so you can stop worrying that I'm about to attack you or something," she told him with a smirk, and rolled her eyes as Dean bristled.
"You said you've seen others with energy like mine—what'd you mean?" Sam interrupted.
Grace looked over at him and frowned. "Well, I've seen a few people over the years—they have different energy. Don't ask me what that means; I've never been able to explain it to anyone who can't see what I see, so there's no point in trying now. It's just intense and darker." She threw up her hands with an exasperated sigh. "And, no, darker doesn't mean evil," she said as Sam opened his mouth. "If I had a nickel for every time someone even thought that… it's just an expression to give to someone who can't see what I see so they have something to connect it with. That's all." She waved her hands around. "You're just much more than, say," she stopped and looked over the bar towards Ellen who was serving a drink, "Ellen over there. She's soft, muted—grief, most likely. Heartache and hardship do that to a person. It softens them around the edges," she explained in a slightly lilting voice. Drawing her eyes back to the Winchesters, she continued, "You however Sam, are sometimes nearly blinding. Mind calming down a bit there?" she lightly joked.
"So why does that, brightness, darkness, whatever make you think that I was attacked? Were these other people attacked?" he demanded, shifting a little closer and dropping his voice.
Grace considered his words for a moment and then sighed. "In one case I'm quite sure of the demon attack. In another I suspected it, what happened with the two brothers just lends itself to that theory." Grace paused for another moment looking around them casually before turning back to Sam. "I really don't think this discussion here is a good idea, Sam, nor would it be a good idea to give an energy reading here and now." Grace slipped back slightly from him as she continued, "besides, all the stuff going on around us, it just interferes and makes it much more difficult to get a true reading." Grace looked away from Sam, shuffling her papers again and beginning to put them away.
Dean reached forward and dropped his hand on Sam's shoulder. "She's got a point, Sam. Let it be, maybe some other time, you know?" Sam stared at Dean a moment and then nodded, leaning back and turning to watch Grace as she put the last of her things into her bag.
"Well, gentlemen, it's been interesting." Grace shook her head, smiled slightly. She pulled a small card out of her bag. "Here—if you have something urgent to ask me, or whatever." She waved a hand and shrugged. "I can be reached through email the easiest or the number if it's really urgent." She smiled politely.
Sam took the card with a nod and small smile obviously lost in thought. And with that Grace quickly stepped around the brothers and headed for the door only glancing back once to see the brothers talking low and furiously while Sam continued holding his hand to his chest. Great looks like I made another 'friend,' she thought sarcastically to herself as she let the door close behind her.
Hopefully, she wouldn't see those two ever again!
Well I was moving at the speed of sound.
Head-spinning, couldn't find my way around, and
Didn't know that I was going down.
Yeah, yeah.
Where I've been, well it's all a blur.
What I was looking for, I'm not sure.
Too late and didn't see it coming.
Yeah, yeah.
-Crashed, Chris Daughtry