Chapter 14
Episode 14 – 'Nightmare'
Grace was waiting for them back at the motel when they returned from making sure Max's mother gave a suitably untruthful version of events.
She was sitting cross-legged on the bed, flicking through the TV channels. When she had called Dean he had sounded tired, worn, like something had happened, of such unwieldy magnitude that he could barely wrap his mind around it. He mentioned something about Sam's visions before cutting himself off quickly and telling her they would be back soon. Clearly Sam had joined him and there was no way he was going to share while his little brother was listening in.
They entered the room and offered only half-hearted responses to her greetings, Sam not even speaking, just giving her a small smile. Dean immediately dragged his bag out from underneath the bed and threw her a glance.
"You be ready to go in a bit?" he asked, already gathering up his clothes.
Apparently neither of them wanted to linger in this town. There was nothing to keep her here either, so she nodded and said, "Sure, I'll just grab a quick shower." And she flicked of the TV, climbed off the bed and went into the bathroom, grabbing some clothes along the way.
She emerged ten minutes later, wearing her pajama bottoms again as she'd forgotten to actually take any jeans in with her. Dean was laughing.
"You've got a little bit more upper body strength than I gave you credit for," he told his brother, only half joking.
"No, man," Sam protested, flicking an apprehensive glance towards Grace, who was shifting through her clothes. "I moved it – like Max."
Grace's hands froze over her pile of clothes, there was something in Sam's voice that warned her that this was something serious. Something wrong.
Dean looked up from his packing to regard him steadily. "Oh. Right." He said slowly.
"Yeah," Sam agreed on a sigh.
Grace finally retrieved the jeans she was looking for and sent a look between the boys. She didn't fully understand what they were talking about, but it definitely didn't sound good.
There was a chink of cutlery on china and she saw Dean holding a spoon out towards Sam.
"Bend this," he ordered.
Sam's sigh was impatient this time. "I can't turn it on and off, Dean!" he exclaimed, exasperatedly.
Despite the apparent gravity of the situation, Grace couldn't help a smile at the two of them as she disappeared back into the bathroom. A couple of minutes later she was back out again to pack the last of her stuff – or shove it haphazardly into her bag – and just in time to see Dean push a folded priest's outfit into his almost full duffel. She didn't really want to know about that one.
"Now then," Dean announced. "I know what we need to do about your premonitions. I know where we have to go."
There was a confidence in his voice that made both Sam and Grace look over in interest, as if he really could solve all their problems so easily.
"Where?" Sam asked.
"Vegas," Dean replied seriously before his face broke into a grin.
Sam scoffed at the suggestion and went to throw his bag in the trunk of the Impala, Dean still trying to argue the idea. He turned to look back into the room after loading his duffel into the back of the car.
"You 'bout done there, princess?" he called to Grace, where she stood brushing her wet hair in front of the mirror.
She rolled her eyes and smiled a little. Dean didn't seem to have caught onto the fact that calling her 'princess' wasn't an insult in the same way it was when he gave Sam the same label.
"Sure," she replied, chucking her hairbrush into the bag, zipping it shut and swinging it off the bed.
He held back the door for her and she passed out of the room before him, slinging her bag into the trunk before shutting it and walking round to slip into the back seat. Moments later they were back on the road.
A/N: Just a short chapter. I thought the princess comment sounded like something Dean would say but he wouldn't mean it as a term of endearment. Bless him, he hasn't exactly sorted out the difference between Grace and Sam yet I don't think.....