Chapter 10

Grace

For the first time in my life, I could feel the weight of my wings; their span was bigger than I had seen on Castiel or anyone else. Their golden, pearlescent shimmer in the moonlight made me feel completely indestructible. I turned towards Delilah slowly, making no noise and she must have sensed something was different because she opened her eyes and they flashed with a rage I had yet seen.

"What's the matter, there, Delilah?" I asked, tilting my head as I smiled gently. "Worried that we're evenly matched now?"

"You will never have my power," she whispered, "even with your grace back. I'll tell your son you said 'hello'." With that, she disappeared on the spot.

Gritting my teeth and trying not to focus too much on the idea that Delilah still had my son, I ran over to Billy, who had collapsed on a pile of rubble in the doorway of the building. He wasn't bleeding, from what I could tell, but I knew he was very hurt. Rolling him to the side, I listened for a pulse, but I could hear too much; it was distracting. I decided to stop wasting time and opted for the easier solution: resting my hand on his forehead, I pushed healing into his body, without knowing how I did it. He blinked slowly, smiling when he saw my face.

"You got it before she did," he whispered.

Nodding, I smiled. "I did," I agreed. "Good thing too. She cast a spell on you."

"Bitch," he whispered, making the move to stand. "Why hadn't she come for it before?" he asked as I stood back and helped him to his feet and we turned to survey the damage again.

I shook my head, "She probably didn't know where to look," I explained. "It was calling only to me."

Billy smiled, accepting my explanation. "You ready to go home?"

"Hell yes," I sighed, smiling as I glanced up at him. "They're gonna be pissed I didn't go home first."

Billy shrugged half-heartedly and turned towards the door, hobbling slightly. "Eh, let 'em be pissed. Builds character."

…

"How the fuck did she survive?" Delilah screamed as she launched spell after spell into the empty room. "How is she alive?"

Rhiannon cowered in the corner, as far away from Delilah as possible. "I don't know," she whispered, trying to stay away from the angel. "I'm sorry Delilah. I am so sorry we did not do what you instructed us to do."

Delilah's fists shook with rage and slowly, things around the room began to rattle. Rhiannon glanced around, worried what was to become of her, but instead, Delilah closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The rattle stopped.

Slowly, Delilah opened her eyes and took another breath, obviously gaining control of her anger. "We still have the Gatekeeper," she whispered, mostly to herself. "We still have the Gatekeeper and the others will come to me if I have him."

"The others?" Rhiannon asked. "The other Gatekeepers?"

Nodding slowly and turning away from the witch, Delilah stared out the tiny window. "The Gatekeeper will convince his siblings to come, we will have control of the Gates, and I can bring down the rest of the angels with the monsters from Hell and Purgatory. I still have control."

Rhiannon's dark eyes narrowed in doubt as she watched her mistress from across the room. The more she witnessed, the more unlikely it seemed to Rhiannon that any of the Winchester children would voluntarily come to her or leave their family. Rhiannon had a distant memory of what it was like to be loyal to a family, but that was before Delilah had taken her own sister away from her.

From his cell, Everett Winchester listened to Rhiannon's thoughts as they ventured further and further away from the other witches. He focused Rhiannon's loyalty to the past and finally, he found a weak link in Rhiannon's dedication to Delilah. Slowly, the corner of his lips tugged into a sly smile.

Momma's homemade mac and cheese, he decided. It would be a perfect welcome home meal.

…

Grace

The drive back home wasn't nearly as far as I remembered, but it could have been the fact that I was more angel than human now. I couldn't explain it, especially considering I was only supposed to be half and half, but it seemed that my death had sent me into some kind of ultra-maturity when it came to using my abilities. The human half of my body was absolutely exhausted; driving for hours and seeing Delilah again had sent my adrenaline into overdrive, but the angel half didn't even register the tired from the human side.

Billy had fallen asleep hours ago, resting his head against the window of the passenger side and breathing softly. His body was taxed, having been through a major injury and being repaired so quickly. I knew he would be fine, but I was quietly worried what all this excitement would do to my friend. He wasn't exactly young anymore.

We crossed the state line into Kansas and I breathed a sigh of relief. I couldn't wait to go home.

"You're awfully quiet over there," Billy spoke softly, still with his eyes closed.

I smiled lightly as I changed highways for the last time before we got home. Lawrence was only about forty-five minutes away. "I would have to say the same thing about you," I smiled, glancing over at him. "You were out."

Billy sat up and readjusted his position in the passenger seat. "At least I wasn't snoring," he chuckled. "You feel alright? Everything still back where it needed to be?"

Nodding, I smiled, "It's the best I think I've ever felt," I agreed. "The idea that I can see my wings…" slowly, I shook my head in disbelief. "I get the feeling that I should have always been able to see them, but it's the first time that I feel like I own my abilities; like they actually belong to me." I stole another look over at Bill. "I finally feel comfortable in my own skin. It's nice."

"A phoenix," Billy smiled gently, staring out the window into the blue Kansas sky. "Rising from the ashes."

I smiled slowly, nodding in agreement. "What's the lore on them?" I asked, still with the stupid grin. "Don't they get more powerful every time they ash?"

"Something like that," Bill grinned. "What is your sister going to do when she gets a load of you?"

I shook my head, taking a deep breath. "She'll probably try to kill me," I laughed.

"That sounds like Serra."

…

Serra

I had a few days off from the hospital and while Sammy was at work and the kids were at school, I tried to clean the house. I tried to wash the dishes that had piled up in the sink. And then I tried to put the laundry away, but nothing I tried got finished. The kids' toys were still scattered across the hall and our bedroom. The dishes were still stacked next to the sink and the laundry spilled over the sides of the baskets that held it. I was just so distracted.

I found myself standing in the middle of the wheat field between our two houses, staring east, waiting for something to happen. There was something in the air that I just couldn't put my finger on; not dangerous, or violent that I could tell, but something was coming. The tiny hairs on the back of my neck stood at attention as I listened.

Minutes passed slowly, and I strained myself, trying to hear what my instincts told me I should be able to hear. Finally, frustration got the best of me and I sighed heavily, covering my face with my hands. "This is ridiculous," I whispered to the wheat. "There's nothing out here. There hasn't been anything out here. Get a grip, Sere."

Turning back towards the Dean's house, I thought about walking over there, just to get some reassurance from my brother-in-law that I wasn't going completely nuts, but before I had the chance to take a step, the echo of a diesel engine bounced off the sides of the barn. I hesitated, feeling like that motor was familiar, and listened hard.

The truck got off the highway, taking the same route I was used to Dean taking in the Impala. I could hear the left turn he made as he would normally head up the gravel driveway towards the Big House. It wasn't Dean this time, though, I knew, especially considering it was a diesel engine. Glancing over to the barn again, I could see that Tulley and Fred's camper was gone and the Adaka'i boys were still up in Wisconsin. No one was due back for a few days.

Glancing up at the Big House again, I couldn't immediately see Dean in any of the windows, but something told me that he could hear the diesel engine too. I knew I wasn't hallucinating. I wasn't that far gone.

Turning towards the gravel driveway that circled the back of the Big House, leading into the field, I began to jog towards the sound. A semi-familiar white Dodge four by four diesel was rolling up the gravel; it's engine's sound reverberating against the houses and the barn. I slowed to a stop as the hairs on the back of my neck continued to wave red flags. Something was happening. Something was about to happen.

Without really thinking about it, I pulled the Twins from the waistband of my jeans and flicked the safety off both of them as I stared at the truck. The glare coming off the windshield was too much to stare at, but I didn't look away.

"Serra?" called a man's voice as I held my guns at my hips. "Serra, it's okay, it's me."

"Bill?" I answered, still clutching my guns. Something still didn't feel right.

Billy Griffin stepped down out of the passenger side of his 1993 Dodge and with his hands in the air, he tried to calm me down, "Sere," he continued, "put the guns away. You don't need 'em."

There, coming out from behind the glare, was a tall blonde. She moved slowly and deliberately, using the driver's side door to hide her body and face from me. As she turned to move out into the open, something behind her shimmered, though I couldn't get a good look in the late afternoon sun.

"Serra?" her voice called, sounding too familiar. My defenses shot up, forcing my hands to raise my guns. "Serra, wait. It's me."

Grace's voice was the most familiar voice in my mind; maybe more familiar than my own. It was my sister's voice, but there was no possible way it could actually be my sister. "Who the fuck are you?" I asked, my voice dangerously low. I moved closer towards her, raising my guns, aiming at her chest and head.

Bill moved closer to me, his hands outstretched defensively. "Serra, wait," he comforted. "It's Grace, I promise you."

"Grace is dead," I restated, mostly to myself.

Slowly, the Grace imposter moved away from Billy's truck and out into the open. I had my clear shot. Without hesitating, I fired four times, twice towards her chest and twice towards her head.

Fake Grace lifted her hands, almost in slow motion, and I could see the protective shimmer that enveloped her. She dropped the bullets meant for her head like it was nothing; they landed neatly at her feet. The two I aimed for her chest slipped by her defenses, forcing her to take a step back and close her eyes. The Weapons' Stone bullets lit her chest with a dull blue glow from the inside, but then she looked up at me, tilted her head almost as if she was annoyed, and closed her eyes to concentrate, forcing the bullets back out of her sternum and out onto the ground.

Her eyes glowed blue, the same way and angel's eyes did when they used their abilities and I took a deep breath, knowing that this imposter would not go down so easily.

Without waiting another second, I raised my guns again, unloading the clip of Weapons' Stone bullets into the creature in front of me. "Serra!" Billy shouted, raising his arms, "Stop!"