Chapter 7

Grace

Serra was hitting Byron in the chest as I rubbed my face. "How could you have gotten married?" I asked through my fingers. "How could you have possibly been that drunk?"

"I don't know!" Serra was yelling in between hitting her new husband's chest. "How! Could! You! Do! This!" she yelled, enunciating each word with a punch. "What were you thinking? I'm only eighteen!"

Byron's eyes were half closed, but he had a smile on his face, obviously impervious to Serra's hits. "True love knows no number, my Serendipity."

"Stop calling me that!" Serra shrieked. She turned back to me and ran her hands through her long, dark hair. "What are we going to do?"

"Calm down," I said quietly. "Maybe it's not even legal. Where were you last night? The night before? What do you remember?"

"Nothing. I remember fucking the almighty shit out of him," she started, using her thumb to point backwards. "I remember drinking a lot of whiskey. I remember eating pretzels and having more whiskey…" she faded off and rubbed her face again, shaking her head. "I can't remember anything after that."

"Holy shit, Serra," I sighed. "If this is legal, we're going to have to annul it. I don't even know how to do that." I turned on Byron, smacking his arm. "Where were you last night?"

"What?" he asked, trying to smooth his hair back into place.

"Last night," I began, as if speaking to a toddler. "Where did you get married?"

Bryon smiled and pointed behind him. "The Littlest Chapel with the Biggest Heart!" he exclaimed proudly. "It's right there in downtown. It's so tiny!" he said, demonstrating with his index finger and thumb.

"Was there a marriage certificate?" I pressed.

Byron turned towards the tiny table in the middle of the motel room, scattered with beer bottles and condom wrappers. I made a face, completely disgusted, and shook my head slowly, glancing at my sister. She closed her eyes, probably trying to wish it all away. Finally, Byron held up an official-looking piece of paper. "Yeah," he said, smiling lopsidedly. "Dude gave us one. It's right here! Stamped and everything."

I ripped the paper from his hands and stared at it. Sure enough, it was an official marriage license issued from the state of Texas. "Oh, shit," I whispered, holding the page out to my sister. "Congratulations," I continued sarcastically. "Where are you registered?"

Serra jerked it out of my hands and held it up to her face, staring at the print. "What? I can't…this can't…"

"It is," I replied, gesturing. "You managed it."

"Managed what?"

"To get married before me. Never thought that would happen."

Serra tossed the page up into the air and turned in frustration, throwing herself on the bed. She began talking into the pillow and I had no idea what she was saying, she was speaking so quickly while being so muffled.

"What?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips.

"Fix this, Grace!" she yelled, turning away from the bed. "Do something!"

Rolling my eyes, I held my hands out to the room. "Well, get your shit together and we'll head back to our motel. Make some calls." I turned back to Byron and held out my phone. "You. Are you listening?"

He nodded slowly, his eyes wider, trying to focus on my face. "Yes, Serendipity's sister," he declared proudly.

"Grace."

"Yes, Grace," Byron repeated obediently.

Handing him my phone, I took a deep breath. "Put your phone number into my phone," I began, shaking my head. "We're getting this marriage annulled. I don't need to be in-laws with another hunter." He took it and began typing his phone number into my keypad. After handing it back, I pressed send, listening carefully. Somewhere in the room, I could hear the vibration of a cell phone ringing. "Okay," I said, "just checking that it's your real number, because when I call, you had better answer. If you don't answer," my voice dropped dangerously low, "I will come back to Texas and I will track you down. Then I will kill you."

Byron watched me carefully and nodded slowly. "I don't live in Texas."

"I would still find you," I whispered. "There are monsters that are not supposed to exist," I continued. "But I still find them."

Byron nodded slowly, his hazel eyes wide. "Serendipity, your sister is truly terrifying."

"If you think she's scary, just wait to see what I do if I can't get this marriage annulled," Serra muttered.

She zipped the duffle shut and slung it onto her back. "Alright," she said, shaking her head. "Let's go."

Byron stopped her in the doorway and held out his arms. "Wait, wait, wait!" he shouted, his voice worried. "I love you!"

"You don't love me," she said, shaking her head. "You're still really drunk. Or high. I really can't tell, but either way, when you come down, you're gonna wanna put some ointment on that." Serra pointed to his ribs, where her name was scrawled. The scabs looked stressed and dry and would really hurt in the morning. "Just remember," she continued, shaking her head, "That wasn't my idea."

He smiled broadly and nodded. "It was mine!" Byron exclaimed proudly. "I'll have a piece of you forever with me."

"I still can't believe you have even survived this long as a hunter," Serra muttered, shaking her head. "Let's get the hell out of here."

We got back to the motel and Hank was up and dressed, flipping through channels on the TV in bed. "Hey, you found her!" he said in greeting. "I was getting worried."

"Yeah," I sighed, shaking my head. "You know anything about getting marriages annulled?"

Hank stared at us for more than a few seconds and tilted his head. "How long were you gone?"

Serra tossed her bag onto the other bed across the room and turned towards me, pointing. "What is he still doing here? Are you two dating now? Did you get married too?"

"You got married? To that guy Byron?"

Serra turned slowly as I hid my smile with my hand. "You need to go," Serra decided, sweeping her hand towards the door. "I've had enough of people with penises. You're done, now. Your services are no longer required."

Hank stared at me with his eyebrows up. I shook my head, dismissing the argument. "You should probably go," I said quietly.

Sighing, Hank pushed himself up from the bed and approached me slowly, breathing in my scent. "I don't think I'm done with you yet," he said quietly, speaking into only my ear. "It's kinda fun being with a woman that has the skill to kill me."

Smiling, I pursed my lips. "I am pretty exciting," I whispered. He leaned in towards my face and kissed me slowly. I felt myself being pushed into his subconscious for the customary three seconds or so and all I saw was the two of us wrapped up in each other, telling me that he really was hooked. "Call me?"

"Definitely. I need some more excitement in my life."

"Oh my God, stop talking, and get the hell out. I have shit to deal with," Serra's voice came over the two of us from across the room.

I stepped to the side to make eye contact with my sister, raising my voice as well. "I'm not the one who was stupid enough to get married!" I countered. "This sounds like you problem, not a me problem."

Immediately, Serra dissolved into a tantrum. "Grace, holy shit, what am I going to do?" she yelled, stomping her foot for effect. She threw herself down onto the bed and lay there, silent.

I glanced at Hank and shook my head. "I'll talk to you later," I said quietly. "We need to figure this out." Hank nodded and smiled, stepping through the threshold of the door and I closed it behind him. Turning back towards my sister, I sighed dramatically. "Alright, stop freaking out."

"Stop freaking out?" she repeated as I sat down next to her, holding the phone book that was in the nightstand drawer next to the Bible. "How can I stop freaking out when I can't actually remember getting married? Was I drugged? What else happened during my nuptials? Who would marry someone that was that drunk?"

I was shaking my head, trying to ignore her, but my sister was loud. "Would you just shut up a minute and I'll try to figure this out?"

She rolled to her stomach again as I flipped to divorce attorneys in the yellow pages. The biggest thing I was worried about was how much it would end up costing. From what I had heard, marriage and divorce happened to be a lucrative business. We just didn't have that kind of cash.

"Here," I said, pointing. "We'll call this guy in the morning and see what he says. For now, I'm going to call the chapel and see what they say."

Serra nodded, trying to stay in control.

I called the chapel that was listed on the marriage certificate and talked to a too-perky older woman who proceeded to explain to me that we would have to get the marriage annulled with the state and that the chapel was not liable for anything that happened.

"It's listed there in your contract," she chirped, clicking her tongue.

"Contract?" I repeated, staring at Serra. "Is that something that we took home with us?"

"Yes, my dear," she replied, clicking her tongue again.

I sighed heavily and rolled my eyes. "Thanks," I said, hanging up the phone, "for nothing."

"What? What does that mean 'with the state'?" Serra asked, sitting up again, pushing her hair out of her face. "I can't deal with this, Gracie. What did I just do?"

"I would rather know how much it's going to cost us, Serra," I said, standing up and pacing around the motel room. "It's not like I have money just laying around. I can't believe you did this."

"You've got that pot from the other night," she mentioned. "That was like, four hundred bucks, wasn't it?" She raised her eyebrows hopefully. "I will give you every cent I make for the next two years. Three years."

"It's not about giving me money, Serra. It's the fact that you let your guard down enough to get so drunk, or drugged, that you can't even remember doing it." I shook my head and licked my lips. "This is exactly why I am on your ass, twenty-four, seven. You're still making such stupid decisions. You are a hunter for fuck's sake. You're gonna get yourself killed." Serra stared at me pleadingly. "You owe me so big," I finally said. "You're getting a real job as soon as we get home. I'm sick of this shit, Sere."

"You got it. Anything you want."

We went to bed that night and Serra fell asleep almost immediately, but I sat up and stared at the wall across the room, smiling occasionally at what our father would have thought about his little perfect Lady Luck getting so drunk that she came home married. Around two that night, I gave in, letting sleep take me. I dreamed about skuzzy bars and a man in a leather jacket with green eyes and woke up completely exhausted the next morning.

"Come on," Serra was saying, tossing a pair of jeans in my general direction. "Let's get this show on the road."

"What?" I asked, sitting up slightly. "We can't just go to the attorney's office. We have to make an appointment."

"So get up. Call."

"You know, you're the one that got married. Maybe you should call." Serra stared at me long enough that I wondered how she could keep her eyes open that long without blinking. "Fine," I finally conceded. "Find me that guy's number. I have to take a shower."

I called with my hair still dripping wet after Serra basically held me down so that I could make the phone call to the divorce attorney. After a brief discussion over the phone as Serra, I took a deep breath and sighed, thanking him for his help. Setting my phone back down on the nightstand, I glanced up at her and shook my head. "We have an appointment in a week. We have to bring Byron and the marriage certificate and three hundred dollars."

"Oh thank God," Serra said, laying back into the pillows.

A week later, we left the attorney's office with a very sullen Byron, still rubbing his ribcage absentmindedly. "I'll always have a special place in my heart for you, my Serendipity," he said sweetly, making me roll my eyes and walk away from them.

Serra wasted no time feeling apologetic or empathetic. "Oh Jesus, Byron, get over it. We spent two nights together and you were stupid enough to get my name tattooed on your body."

He nodded sadly as he bent to kiss her.

Immediately, she backed away and shook her head. "Are you kidding?" she squeaked, making a face. "You go away now. Go far away."

Turning, Byron hung his head and walked back to his truck. "That was harsh, don't you think?" I asked, approaching my sister.

"No," she said, crossing her arms. "I'm out a hundred and fifty bucks and my side itches like crazy."

I shook my head and folded the annulment papers in half, handing them to her. "Keep these safe, please," I said, but then I hesitated. "I don't know, can I trust you with these?"

Serra shook her head. "Are you kidding?" she said for the second time. "You keep them safe. Obviously, I am not to be trusted." She took a couple of steps towards my Toyota and waited for me to open the doors with the keyless entry. As she sat in the passenger seat, she flicked on the radio and turned up the volume as Guns N' Roses came over the speakers. She leaned her head back and nodded to the beat of the music. As I put the car into reverse and headed out of the parking lot, she took a deep breath and said, "We are never talking about this again." Serra opened her eyes and stared at me, watching my reaction carefully. "Never. It never happened."

I suppressed a smile. "Okay," I said, shifting to fifth gear as I merged onto the freeway, headed back to Lawrence for the second time that week.

"Grace," she stated, stern. "It. Didn't. Happen."

I smiled and turned, singing, "Take me down to the paradise city where the grass is green and the girls are pretty! Oh won't you please take me home!"

Serra joined me and we sang together, screaming down the highway.

"Oh, it happened," Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "It happened and we heard the entire story."

I laughed as I watched Sam turn to Serra. "I can't believe you were married before," he said, grinning.

"Just like you, honey," she said, handing him the baby and taking off, using Charlotte as a distraction. "It's been fun, Gracie, but I'm leaving before you start telling any more stories that we were never supposed to bring up again."

I laughed again and waved as she jumped down the steps, heading back towards the Small House across the field. The back door clicked shut as Charlotte stretched, her tiny body going rigid momentarily. I turned to stare at my own newborn daughter and still couldn't believe the resemblance between the two, day-apart babies. They both had dark, curly hair, big, dark blue eyes and full, pouty lips. They were close to identical.

"She's really wet," Sam murmured. "I should take her home."

"Why don't you change her here so you can just put her down when you get home. She'll get all cozy again by the time you take her across the field," I said, gesturing to Faith's room upstairs. "You know if you change her at home, she'll just wake up and smell Serra."

Sam nodded and turned towards the steps. "Yeah, alright," he said, heading up the stairs.

Dean stood, still holding onto our daughter and popped his back. "I'm going to take her up and put her down," he said quietly, leaning so that I could kiss her goodnight. He glanced up at Sam, whispering, "Don't wake Everett up. Sometimes he sneaks in there to find Faith."

Sam waved over his shoulder at Dean, signaling that he had heard him. Dean followed him up the steps and I watched, stretching out on the couch.