Chapter 11

Serra, Around five months with Sammy.

Sam and I had been together for about five months, meaning Grace and Dean had been together for around eight. We had fast become one big, happy family, but shit hit the fan when Grace had her vision about the stalker. Since then, Dean had been on edge, waiting for when the big, ugly troll would end up showing his fat, stupid face and beat the shit out of everyone. I was too, but I knew that I would at least get a few good hits in before he knocked me out. We just had to wait and see.

The waiting was awful. I felt like I had to puke all the time and nothing that Grace said made any difference. We were cooking dinner one night while the boys were doing laundry. Sammy had just taken a load from the dryer and was dumping it on the couch to fold it and I noticed with a smile that my clothes were mixed in with his.

"Oh my God," Grace whispered from her spot in front of the stove.

"What?" I asked, leaning towards her.

She grinned, shaking her head. "You're basically glowing," she chuckled. "God, you're not pregnant, are you?"

The fear dripped through my spine before I realized that she was making fun of me. "Holy fuck, Grace, don't do that." Sammy turned towards us as we whispered conspiratorially and I lowered my voice. "You're the same way with Dean."

"I don't try and hide it," Grace answered, shrugging. "Dean's the only one that has a hard time saying it out loud. It's a little ridiculous how much you two are alike…so secretive about your feelings."

"You guys are quiet again," Dean declared as he carried a load of dirty clothes towards the mudroom. "You're gonna have to speak up. I can't hear you from in here."

Grace turned towards her boyfriend and lifted her eyebrows, speaking loudly, as if addressing someone that was hard of hearing. "I said that you hide your feelings! You're so secretive about your love for me!"

Looking away, Dean's face flushed. "Alright, alright," he replied, holding up his hands. "I got it. Never ask."

She giggled and turned back towards me. "I don't know why you're hiding it, pretending to be all tough and never admitting it." Grace nodded towards Sam, "We all know that you're stupid for him."

"Love is weakness," I grumbled, mostly to myself.

"So you admit what I've seen in your mind," Grace answered. "I knew it. You love him."

My eyes flicked towards Sammy and I held out my hand, reaching for Grace's mouth. "Holy mother—" I began. "Shut up."

"Just tell him and get it over with. It's not like it's just you."

"Just tell him what?" Sam asked, shaking out a pillowcase. "Are you talking about me, now?"

Grace raised her eyebrows and tilted her head, waiting.

"Nothing," I shook my head, waving him off. "Don't worry about it."

Stirring the water on the stovetop as she poured rice into the boiling pot, Grace took a deep breath and stared right at Sam, saying, "She's in love with you." In one motion, I turned and hit her shoulder hard enough to hurt my hand. She turned and stared at me, deadpan, still stirring the rice. "You hit me again and you will forever be on your own for food."

Sam let his mouth hang open ever so slightly as the embarrassment flooded my face. Dean silently moved over enough so that we could see him standing behind Sammy as a smug look crept across on his face. I had no idea what to do. Grace wasn't lying about anything that was happening, but at the same time, it's not like I wanted to shout it from the rooftops.

"Why do you get to say it for me, but not for Dean!"

"Because I know for a fact that you would die before you said it first. At least I have heard Dean think it." Grace was standing with her hands on her hips, gesturing with the wooden spoon she held. "Sam can't hear you think!"

"I can't hear him think, either!" I shook my head, trying to figure a way out of this, but nothing I came up with involved me staying in the room. Every situation I could come up with ended with me in my car, driving away. "Sammy didn't have to be forced into saying it!"

"Alright, fine," Grace answered. She gestured towards Sam and shrugged. "He's in love with you, too," she commented, still holding the dripping wooden spoon. "There. Everyone is on an even playing field."

Dean reached up and clapped his brother on the back. "Mazel tov," he chuckled. Sam turned slightly, giving Dean a dangerous glance. Immediately, the elder stepped away, trying his best to hide his grin.

"Can we just admit that Dean is in love with Grace, too? And vice versa?" Sam asked, pointing towards the other couple.

Their faces reddened as well, but I grinned, finally happy that the situation had been turned on my sister.

…

"It's been awhile since I kicked your ass," I said, my mouth full of food as we watched another rerun of 'Lost.' I gestured to the TV with my fork, "We've seen this episode like, six times. We get it. They're stuck on the island again…or still."

Grace laughed, shaking her head as she rested her legs up on the coffee table, leaning into Dean. "We've been a little busy for sparring practice," she commented quietly.

The boys watched us interact and I grinned, waggling my eyebrows. "Yeah, well," I said, leaning forward to put my empty bowl on the table. "We're both on summer break now, so when I knock you out, tomorrow you can spend the day recovering from your concussion."

"Mighty fierce words from someone who ends up on their ass every time," Grace argued, tilting her head.

I rolled my eyes, standing from the chair. "Let's go, old lady. We can put the mats out in the yard, turn the floods on and have our own heavyweight championship."

"Age and treachery will always beat youth and exuberance," Grace replied, smiling at me sweetly.

"Wait," Dean stopped me in my tracks. "Are you talking about you two sparring? Is that something you do?"

I turned to him and made a face, "Uh, yeah," I began. I stood back and gestured to my body. "How do you think we look this fucking good?"

Dean and Sam exchanged a look as Grace stood to stretch. She turned to face Dean and explained, "We've been too involved in screwing you two every chance we get to have any time to practice."

"Oh, this," Dean pushed himself from the couch and shook his head. "This I'm gonna be a part of."

Sam immediately chimed in his agreement. "Yeah, I'm in," he commented, following Grace into the kitchen. He glanced back at me and raised his eyebrows. "What kind of sparring are we talking about? Fighting? Wrestling?"

I rolled my eyes, knowing the boys had already taken this conversation and turned it sexual. I shrugged as I pulled my hair into a ponytail at the top of my head and watched Grace do the same. "It's pretty much no holds barred," I answered. "No hair pulling, no tit shanking. That's pretty much it."

"Let's go, little girl," Grace said, gesturing to the back door. "I'll get the mats."

I threw a look to Dean, trying to get him to stop her from stepping closer to the garage. "It's okay," I said, shaking my head at her, "I'll get them." I turned towards Dean and tilted my head. "We have boyfriends now," I commented, feeling victorious. "They could get them."

Dean caught the hint almost immediately and nodded. "Oh, yeah, sure," he agreed. "Me and Sammy will pull 'em out."

Grace nodded her gratitude and opened the door to our backyard. The sun was still hanging low in the sky, but she flipped on the outside lights and the yard flooded again with light. "Grab the sticks, too," she yelled to Dean and Sam who were digging around in the garage, ensuring Grace didn't discover the still-in-pieces Chevelle that was scattered all over the room. Dean was getting closer to reassembling, but it was hard when he could only work a few hours at a time, had to clean up each night, and had no steady income to speak of. I was impressed that he was sticking with it at all.

The boys carried the wrestling mats out onto the grass and tossed them down. Grace grinned, pulling the mat closest to her open and stomping it down over the overgrown weeds. "You want some music?" she asked. "That way you can be comforted with song as I hold your ass to the ground?"

I shook my head and chuckled. "The system is warming up. I'll push play in a minute."

"You have a sound system in the house?" Sam asked. "With speakers outside?"

Grace and I turned towards him, nodding slowly. "Yeah," Grace replied. "The house came with one of those Hi-Fi systems from the seventies. Dad upgraded it when CDs came out."

Sam and Dean exchanged a look. "I gotta ask," Sammy began, holding out his hands. "Where did the house come from? How did your family have a house when you were hunting full time?"

I smiled at him and winked as the stereo began to play, pumping a baseline into the backyard. "Wouldn't you like to know?" I asked.

"Oh shut up," Grace laughed. "It's not that big of a deal. We didn't kill anyone for it, if that's what you're asking." She rolled her head from side to side as the music began to wake up her adrenaline. It was our old-school workout mix that we had been using for about a decade; 'Shoop,' by Salt 'n Pepa was our first item on the playlist. Grace went up onto her tip toes and bounced a few times, getting ready as I began to circle her. "Our family came from money," she explained, watching me. "We're related to the Browning rifle company, way back, somehow. We've got stock and Dad had some sort of account set up that matured when we each turned twenty-five. He bought the house when we lost Mom as kind of a way to keep us in one place." She made a face. "Pretty sure he blew the last of the fortune on it, but at least it's paid for."

Sam nodded, glancing at Dean who smiled slyly. "We got girls with money," he commented under his breath. "Does that make them our 'sugar mommas'?"

"You know it," Grace grinned as she ducked out of my path. "Alright," she said, holding up her hands. "Relax or you're gonna pull something."

"That was your excuse last time," I spat, bouncing around her. "Come at me, sis."

The boys backed away, leaning against the house as Grace used her foot to toss herself one of our practice staffs. It was an old broom handle that Dad had shaped into points on both sides, but had been worn from extreme use. It had always been Grace's weapon of choice. I turned to pick up a shorter one, shaped similarly, but pointed only on one side.

I spun, taking the first swipe at my sister and she countered easily, sidestepping only slightly. Grace twirled the broom handle as only my sister could, dusting the ground with the points on the ends as she spun. Gaining momentum, she turned and extended it towards me, aiming for my shoulders. I blocked and smiled. "This feels good," I commented.

Grace nodded and grinned back. "It won't for much longer. Let's go."

I had forgotten how elegantly Grace moved, stepping towards me as she landed hit after hit. I countered easily, but she was fast and I had to work to keep up with her attack. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the boys lean towards each other, talking quietly amongst themselves and I realized that they had never seen us in action. I decided to give them a show.

Instead of defending against Grace's attack, I spun, extending my arm enough that Grace had to twirl out of my way; otherwise, she would have ended up with a bruise across her hip. She countered with a hit of her own and pushed me back, pummeling me with blow after blow. Reaching out with my left foot, I hooked her ankle and took her to the ground, but she rolled with the take-down, moving out of the way quickly, getting back to her feet. I shot my arms out, trying to catch her off balance, but I almost lost my own fake, wooden sword when she scored a hit across my knuckles.

"Stop trying to get me to the ground," she criticized. "Don't worry about trying to impress the boys. Worry about me kicking your ass and how much it's gonna hurt tomorrow."

I licked my lips as another song began on the stereo, filling our backyard with sound. "Holy shit," I breathed, hearing OutKast blast through the speakers. "'Hey, Yeah'?" I asked. "Really?"

"Don't hate on two-thousand three," Grace argued, stepping forward and taking another swipe at me. Her breathing was beginning to increase and her face was reddening with effort. "This was a great song."

I hit her again and again with my fake sword and she countered each move, blocking and twirling with her long, blonde hair trailing behind her. Finally, I got a good enough hit that she lost control of the staff. She watched as it sailed through the air and landed behind me and I grinned, knowing I finally disarmed her.

Grace was never one to let something as simple as being disarmed slow her down. She collapsed and rolled, tucking herself into a ball and rolled towards her broomstick, making me jump to get out of her way. Grace came up on both feet; once again holding her staff and attacking with three rapid hits, all to my knuckles. I had an urge to let go of my sword because of the pain, but I switched hands and spun, throwing out my arm and getting her hard across the shoulder.

"Bitch," she hissed, rubbing the red welt that was already forming across her skin.

I grinned, "Jerk." I finally started feeling successful, but didn't let my guard down. I braced for her attack and was ready as she approached.