Fall, 1998

They say a car is one of the safest places to be during a storm, that doesn't make it any less scary.

She sat in the back seat of her dad's car, watching the rain pound against the windows. Thunder interrupted any thoughts she might have been having as lightning clashed with a nearby telephone pole.

That wouldn't be her problem. She didn't live in this neighborhood. She lived nowhere and everywhere all at once. She lived with her two brothers and her father. She lived here, in the impala. And it was a great place to live, it really was, but, being a thirteen year old girl, she wanted a real house. A house with a picket fence and shutters and real walls and a real roof, that's what she wanted. But she wasn't going to get that. It was simple, she knew how it would all play out.

She was young, but she could tell her brother didn't want this. He wanted all the things she did. He wanted to go to college, he wanted a girlfriend, he wouldn't admit it but he wanted kids. And he was right to want all those things. He was only fifteen, why shouldn't he want to stay in one place for more than a couple months at a time? He wanted to slow things down, take a step back, be a family. A normal family. Not like they were now.

And then there was the eldest. The protector, the one who just wanted his family safe. He didn't want to slow down, he was happiest on the highway, in the fast lane. His top priorities were family, the car, and, of course, pie.

She loved her brothers more than she loved life itself. She loved being part of the family, even if they were always moving, even if she didn't entirely belong. She didn't completely remember the day she met her father. In fact, she usually chose to block the whole memory out and pretend she had always been with them.

It was in July of 1988 that she became a part of the strangest group of people she thought she'd ever meet, her own family. She was only three the first time she spent a cold night on scratchy motel sheets.

Her mother was a nice woman, though she never was one to back down from a fight. Or decline a bet. She bet her soul at a poker game, which, in all reality, was a very stupid thing to do. But she never lost, so why not?

The Winchesters were pretty big talk around the town, John Winchester specifically, having helped the police with a few 'odd murders' just out town lines. Everyone had heard of them, not excluding one Dana House.

Like it was earlier said, Dana never lost. Unless the other player was cheating. And, as she should've known, you can never trust a demon. When she finally did lose, the game as well as her soul, her first concern was for her daughter. Naturally, she made a very quick decision on who would take care of her. Why, the one and only John Winchester of course.

So, no, she wasn't exactly related to the Winchesters. Not even a little. Her last name, though it had been a topic of discussion, was never changed. And yes, she tried not to think about it, since it hurt to think that her 'brothers' knew she wasn't even close to being their real family, it was all she could think about on this night.

She wasn't suited for hunting, for jumping place to place. She wasn't made for shooting and stabbing and burning, for exorcising. She wasn't right for all these things, and if she couldn't do those, she certainly wasn't right for being a Winchester.

October 31, 2005

She heard the two fighting through the door. She heard them land on the ground, and sincerely hoped no one was getting hurt. Uncomfortable with breaking into her brother's home, she opted for just knocking on the door.

She hadn't seen her brother in nearly four years. He would be twenty two now, since she was twenty. He'd gotten all the things he wanted, a girlfriend, a home, college, no kids, but she was sure that would come soon enough. Or, it would've, if she wasn't there to ruin it.

The last time she'd seen him had been a screaming match. Not between him and herself, but between him and their father. And it was almost exactly like she thought it would be. The only difference between how she'd imagined it and how it actually was, was that it was louder in reality. She'd never been able to do that. She could never yell at her father. It was hard for her even to rebel as a teenager. Then again, when there are so little rules, it's generally hard to break them.

Once the banging around stopped, and she heard them talking, she knocked on the door. She'd avoided most of the conflict.

She always had. Instead of dealing with her father like Sam did, she just up and left. As soon as she turned eighteen, she just left. She walked out the door and took the scholarship she'd been offered. She was college bound and her father knew it.

When no one answered the door, she knocked again.

She heard a feminine voice on the other side, and then of course Dean hitting on her. When she heard the doorknob jiggle, her first instinct was to hide, but she didn't. She stood there, waiting like she should. The pair walked out slowly, the taller of the two bumping into her.

"Hi Sam," she said, looking down.

"Gracie?" he asked, surprised.

She smiled up at her brother, wishing desperately that they were young again, wishing all three of them could spend nights in the back of the impala again, like they did when they were kids.

"I thought you'd be in college," he said confusedly.

"I was, I mean, I am but dad - uhm, John - needs help," her smile faltered and faded.

"Right," Dean resumed, "Sammy. Dad's missing; we need you to help us find him."

"You remember the poltergeist in Amherst, or the devil's gates in Clifton? He was missing then too, he's always missing and he's always fine," he protested.

"Not for this long. Now you gonna come with me or not?" Dean asked hopefully.

He shook his head, "I'm not."

"Why not?"

He sighed, "I swore I was done hunting for good."

"Sam, please. I liked it about as much as you did, but John needs our help," she begged.

"You think our moms would have wanted this for us? The weapon training and melting the silver into bullets? We were raised like warriors."

"So, what are you gonna do? You just gonna live some normal, apple-pie life? Is that it?" Dean nearly yells.

"No," Sam began. "Not normal. Safe."

"And that's why you ran away? " Dean scoffed.

Grace swallowed. She knew all too well that everything he said to Sam was directed at her as well. She ran away too. She left John and Dean, she let them down. Blocking out the rest of the conversation seemed the best way to avoid getting her feelings hurt, which was probably best. She was being such a girl. She was the one who'd decided to run away from all her problems, and now she was gonna get butthurt when someone had something to say about it.

John was right. She couldn't have both ways. She couldn't hunt and have a family. She knew from experience. That wouldn't work. She wouldn't put anyone through that.

She heard the trunk slam shut and was called back into reality.

"You know in almost two years I've never bothered you. Never asked you for a thing," Dean reasoned, still visibly angry.

"Alright, I'll go. I'll help you find him. But I have to get back first thing Monday. Just wait here," he offered.

Grace got in the back seat, hoping the car would block out any sounds of conflict about Sam's schedule. Her brother was going to be a lawyer. Like he always wanted to be. He was going to have everything he ever wanted, if only her and Dean weren't there to take it all away.

A/N: For anyone who was wondering, my other story isn't dead. It's just taking me a while to get it going again after my WiFi was taken away. But yeah, what if? So, sorry Grace doesn't have the Winchester charm ;)