I saw out the window of the garage as the Impala pulled in, and I couldn't help but be even more confused. My dad had told me that we were going to meet up, start hunting together again. But what about Grace? Was she okay? Was she ready to hunt on her own, or did dad decide that he was bored of her and that it was time to come and make sure his stupid idiot son didn't fuck up too badly? Either way, I just wished that he had Grace with him. I stood up and walked toward the door, leaving the garage and standing face to face with the man who had stolen the love of my life from me. What was I supposed to say? Good to see you? No. Because there was someone else I'd rather see. I tried to come up with the right words, but they just escaped me. I'd never been the best with words, anyway. That was Sammy's forte. "Hi, dad," I pulled from my brain.

He smiled at me, and it was strange. Almost...proud. It was strange, because I had no idea where it had come from, but...I just took it as it was. "Hi, son..." he said to me in a soft tone, and he pointed to the car. I wasn't sure what was up with him, but it really looked...like he was hiding something from me. I followed him to the Impala when he turned and started to walk that way, and the moment of emotion that he had shown was gone in a blink of an eye. "I've heard a couple things about an abandoned school house in Kissimmee, Florida. That's where we're headed..." he told me, opening the driver's side door of the Impala.

I nodded and sat down in the passenger's seat. "How is Grace?" I asked him sadly. Sure, I'd decided that love was an emotion that I didn't want to feel. But I couldn't change that I loved Grace. I think I'd always have a soft spot in my heart for her. There would always be something for Grace Desrosiers in my heart, no matter where I went. No matter who I was with. I just wanted to know if she missed me. If she ever even thought of me. If she even cared. She'd probably moved on and fallen in love with another man. They were probably planning a family, and she probably thought that he was worth telling my dad off for, where I hadn't been. But...she was still...so much to me. If she came to me that day and said that she needed me, I'd give her whatever I had to. Grace was the last person to ever make me feel...anything.

He gave me a look, and I wasn't sure what it was supposed to mean. It looked...happy and sad and worried all in one, and in that second, I really started to worry about Grace. "She's okay," he told me. "She's ready to strike out on her own, I think..." he told me, running a hand over his hair as he started the car. So, what did that mean? That I suddenly was less ready to strike out on my own than I had been before? I wasn't sure what to say to him...what to think of what he was saying to me. He...wasn't making sense. But he'd stopped making sense to me a long time ago.

I looked out the window as the guy who owned the garage parked the Mustang. Was he just going to leave Grace's car here? I was...really confused. "I..." I stopped myself and looked out the window, but I'd had enough of stopping myself. "I want to see her, dad."

He shook his head. "No, son. You can't. I'm sorry," he gave me that 'father look.' Like nothing I could say was going to change his mind. "You can't see her. I...don't think it's a good idea," he pulled onto the interstate to head southeast to Florida.

I looked at him. Like I gave a microscopic flea's ass what he thought. It was a good idea. I was in love with—I stopped myself. I USED to be in love with Grace Desrosiers. I needed to see her again. "Dad, that's not fair," I glared at him. Why did he get to choose how I lived my life...who I lived it with?

"Life's not fair, Dean," he said quickly. "Fair is a state of mind that you should just give up on right now, because it's not going to happen in this profession," he said matter-of-factly.

I glared at him out of the corner of my eye. I wanted to be with Grace—or, at least I had. I didn't care what was fair and what wasn't. I should have at least been able to see her again. "That's fucking stupid," I said under my breath, with a glare in his direction.

He looked at me. "Dean. I know you're angry. And I know you love—"

"Loved," I changed that quickly.

"Loved...her..." he paused again. "But, son. Just trust me when I tell you that her being on her own right now is for the best. She is a strong woman. If anyone can make it on her own, it's her..." he told me.

Like that was supposed to make me feel better. I had no sense of closure. No way to find solace. No reason—from her—that she had just up and went with my dad. I wasn't sure if I'd ever be okay again if I didn't hear—from her—why she left me. I sounded pathetic saying this, and I fully realized it. But I felt like I deserved answers. I felt like...I was being wronged. Both my dad and the love of my life knew why I wasn't allowed to see the love of my life, and I didn't think it was fair at all. "But...she shouldn't have to be alone. We were doing fine together and—"

Dad shook his head. "No, son. Just forget about it, okay? The sooner you forget about her and try and get on with your life, the sooner you can—well, I guess you need to learn it on your own, Dean. Just, believe me, okay? This is for the best..." he told me, and I wanted to punch that concerned look right off his smug face. Instead, though, I let my eyes fall closed and I leaned back against the passenger's seat, preparing to try and sleep for the rest of the trip to Florida. I'd have to get over this anyway. If I had to go through all this with my dad from then on? I wouldn't want to constantly think of beating him senseless, would I?

I just...wish there was some way I could have known. Known if she ever...thought about me. I...just wanted to know if she was happy. Because I sure as hell wasn't, and maybe hearing that she was okay—maybe it would make it a little easier for me.