Chapter 25

Grace

I had never wanted to be a Nephilim. I never even wanted to be a psychic. But at this moment in my life, I couldn't begin to tell you how much I missed being both.

I felt cut off from the entire world; deaf, blind, and too weak to do much of anything. I watched Bill, Tulley, and Fred work around me, gathering supplies they would need in order to bring the angels back. Seeder practiced the words over and over, his thick New Orleans accent getting in the way of the ancient Celtic pronunciations. Billy had to get involved more than once, and finally took the book from Seeder, insisting that he would take care of the words himself. Seeder returned to the corner of the living room, looking haughty and annoyed.

I sat on the floor among my children and tried my best to be as involved in their games as I could, but found myself being pulled back into the conversation happening at the table again and again.

Finally, Liberty glanced at me and nodded towards Billy and Donna, who were standing at the corner of the farm table. "It's okay, Momma. Go over there and help."

I smiled weakly at my eldest daughter. "No, baby," I whispered. "I won't be able to do much anyway. I'm just not on my game."

"You just need your grace back," Libby answered, leaning her head on my arm. "Then you'll be fine. Uncle Cas will help when he gets back."

I nodded, smiling lightly at my girls. Glory watched earnestly and I sighed, thinking how lucky I was to have daughters that were so incredibly resilient. Nothing seemed to faze them and they were constantly reassuring to each other when changes were hard to handle. Dean and I both had no idea what we had done right, but we hoped we could keep it going.

"Alright," I heard Billy declare. "I think we're ready to try. The ingredients list isn't long and I have most of it in my truck." Bill moved away from the table, enough to make eye contact with me. "You could probably fill in what's missing, right?"

I nodded from my spot on the rug. "Most likely. There's an old cabinet down in the basement with a lot of ingredients. It's next to Jody's old bed."

Donna nodded and headed towards the entrance of the basement. I glanced at the angels, still standing stoic next to Sabina and sighed heavily. Maybe, just maybe, we were getting close.

…

Serra

I didn't like leaving Grace behind, no matter how confident I sounded. For only the second time in my life, I was headed into a fight without knowing my big sister could come to back me up if I needed her to. She was benched until we could get her grace back, and it wasn't sitting well with me.

Glancing at Sammy, I took a deep breath, gritting my teeth as I threw things into my duffel. "I'll drive," I began, not looking my husband in the face. "I'm gonna milk you for blood for the first hour or so on our way."

"An hour?" Sam repeated, glancing up at me. "That seems excessive."

"I have a feeling you'll be able to take it," I muttered, mostly to myself. "I need as much as I can so I can reload as necessary. I don't want to be without when we're finally up against Delilah."

"Serra," Sam started, sighing quietly. "We might not even find her. You have to be prepared for that."

I shook my head, refusing to meet his gaze. "No," I grumbled. "I refuse to believe that. She has our kid," I ran out of breath suddenly, trying to hold my emotions together. I didn't want to break, not now. Not when we were so close.

Sam moved closer, reaching for my shoulders. Automatically throwing my walls up around myself, I pulled away from his touch, shaking my head. "Serra," he tried again. "We will find Lee. We'll find him and we'll bring him home. I know we will, but this is our first attempt. Things might not go as smoothly as we want them to."

Still shaking my head, hot, angry tears spilled down my cheeks and I forcibly zipped my duffel bag closed. "Hurry up," I muttered, ignoring Sam's comments. "Dean's already outside and I want to get out of here."

…

Grace

Billy and Seeder carried supplies up the steps of the basement, getting ready for our first attempt at the spell that would hopefully bring Castiel and Lucia back to us. I stared out the kitchen window, watching Dean help Serra and Sam load things into the Wagoneer so they could get on the road. Our goodbye had been brief; the rage-fueled look in Dean's eyes was still fresh in my memory.

"I don't like separating," I whispered, reaching around Dean's broad shoulders to hug him goodbye.

Dean's voice was quiet in my ear, "I know," he began. "I don't like it either, but you know it's what we need to do."

I swallowed hard, nodding mostly to myself. "What if you find him and I'm not there? What will he say if I'm not there behind you?"

"It doesn't make you a bad mother," Dean answered, pulling away slightly. "We all have our jobs to do."

I nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "Once the angels are out, we're all right behind you."

"I know you are," Dean pressed his lips together, forcing his dimples to show. "I love you, Gracie."

Smiling wistfully, wiping the tears from my face, I nodded. "I know you do. I love you too."

Dean crouched next to each of our children in turn and bid them goodbye, each of them getting a hug and a kiss on the forehead. With that, he was gone.

Swallowing hard, I closed my eyes and stared at the arm chair I leaned on. There was a feeling, deep in my gut, that this entire scene was about to play out in the worst way possible and I had no idea how to stop it from happening. I gasped, trying to keep control of my too close to the surface emotions, and once again, wiped my face, forcing myself back into the game.

Watching me carefully from across the room, Tulley lifted his bushy gray eyebrows as me, once I finally looked up. "You are stronger than you are thinking, Grace Browning," he commented. "I am looking forward to the fight we will be having soon."

"I know you are, Tulley," I chuckled. "I hope it doesn't disappoint."

Stuart was sitting at the edge of the couch, watching everyone from his vantage point. "I gotta say, I'm kinda looking forward to anything that's coming," he muttered. "It's like watchin' TV, but you're all real."

"Okay," Billy sighed, ignoring Stu and laying out the ingredients on my farm table. "We're as ready as we're gonna be. Let's get going."

Walking over towards Cas, I knew I wouldn't need to be a part of the spell in order for it to work, so, standing in front of the angel, I took a deep breath and stared into his blank face. It was as if time had been frozen. Cas' face and body was in the same exact position as it had been from the beginning; his beard hadn't even grown in at all. I glanced down at Sabina, still with her head leaned back against the cushion of the loveseat, with her eyes closed. Her body was much the same way: for the last few weeks, she hadn't moved or shown signs of any part of her body changing.

Narrowing my eyes, it occurred to me for the first time that as a witch, as a human, Sabina's body should have gone through some kind of change while being trapped with the angels inside her mind. She should have lost weight…she should have been almost starving to death without being hooked up to a saline drip to keep her alive. If she was in a coma, she would have been hooked up to a catheter.

Slowly, my mouth dropped open, realization hitting me like a ton of bricks.

"She's an angel too," I whispered.

Bill looked up towards the sound of my voice and tilted his head. "What was that, angel?" he asked, still readying for the spell.

"Sabina," I answered, pointing to the girl on my loveseat. "She's an angel too, otherwise, she'd be dead. The angels have been in her subconscious longer than a human body could take without showing some damage." The longer I stood with my mouth open, the more plausible the possibility seemed. "We theorized that Delilah was an angel, just pretending to be a witch to hide herself from us and Cas…" I was shaking my head; pieces of the puzzle were flying together faster than I was ready for. "She was a plant. Delilah used her as a plant to get us to Holden. It's why we couldn't find the rest of her family." I glanced up at Billy and his mouth was slowly dropping open in much the same way mine had. "Serra hated her from the beginning because she just has that sense about her. She could tell she wasn't legit."

"That is leaping," Tulley muttered, shaking his head slowly. "How could she be angel without Winchesters knowing?"

I thought momentarily, considering Tulley's question. "Delilah knows more about spells and cosmic abilities than me or Cas or Lucia because we're not the bad guys. She's been dabbling for who knows how many millennia with demons or whatever…she's picked up some things. I'll bet she's been using Sabina for longer than we could ever fathom." I held out my hands, gesturing to the girl on my couch. "Look at her! She still looks exactly the same as she did when she got here! Nothing's changed! She hasn't eaten in over three weeks!"

Raising my eyebrows passed my hairline, I continued, "She should be starving to death! I should have had to clean up her mess all over my couch! But no! She just stopped! Her body just froze!"

Slowly, Bill began to nod, seeing exactly what I was seeing. "Well," he sighed. "Let's get your angels out and we'll have them deal with her."

Tulley took a deep breath, glancing at Fred, "We are signing up for more than I was thinking," he muttered. Fred simply nodded, still staring at the piles of ingredients on my table.

From the corner of the room, Seeder and Billy began repeating the ancient Celtic incantations that they had been practicing. One ingredient at a time was thrown into the ironwood box that sat in the middle of a sigil, drawn on one of the kids' art posters in the middle of the farm table. Each ingredient that was added brought another lazy stream of smoke from the middle of the box, all different variations of purple and gray.

Once into a rhythm, more voices joined the chorus in ancient Celtic. Tulley and Fred began as well, following along carefully. Tulley even fought his heavy Russian accent in order to be as authentic as possible. Finally, Jody, Donna, and even Stuart joined in the incantations, filling our living room with sound, each saying the spell at a different speed, as the instructions had described.

Bill stepped towards the ironwood box and tossed in the final ingredient and suddenly, the room filled with the brightest white light I had ever experienced without having produced it myself. Everyone standing at the table covered their faces, attempting to block the light, but I was still unfazed, staring into Castiel's face. At least one part of my angelic nature had clung to me.

"Come on, Cas," I whispered. "Come back to me."

The voices continued relentlessly, filling our living room with the echo of the ancient spell. It didn't seem possible, but the light seemed to get brighter, finally so bright that I was forced to bring my hand up to block some of it. I tried to stare through the light, as Castiel had instructed, not so long ago, but it was finally too much for my human, grace-lacking senses.

Suddenly, there was a hum that filled the space, so loud that the Celtic spell suddenly stopped as the humans surrounding my farm table ducked and covered their ears. I knew the sound well and I couldn't help the smile that spread broadly across my face.

It was the sound of an angel's true voice.