Chapter 26

Grace's hands were dripping with her sister's blood as she attempted over and over again to slow the bleeding using her angelic abilities. Tears streamed down her face as she worked and made it difficult to see the wound in Serra's back. Shaking her head and wiping her face with the back of a blood soaked hand; Grace pushed the renegade blonde strands back, smearing her tears and the blood across her cheek.

"Sammy," she gasped, fighting the panic that touched her voice, "any luck getting a hold of the ambulance?"

Lightning crashed through the field between the houses again as Sam turned and shook his head, his lips pressed into a tight line. "The signal is either being interrupted by the storm or the line is busy. I can't get through."

Grace took a deep breath and changed towels again. "She's losing too much blood," she whispered, trying to hold it together. "I can't…I don't know why I can't heal the wound."

Sam's eyebrows creased together and took a ragged breath. "What do I do, Grace?"

Breathing hard, Grace kept her fingers on Serra's pulse point, feeling for her heartbeat. It was weak but it was there. Barely.

"We need to get her to a hospital," Grace answered, shaking her head and containing her panic. "I touched Dean's Mark before we separated," she continued. "I should be able to heal her." Staring at his sister-in-law, Sam remained silent as Grace continued to work on his wife. "Okay," Grace took a breath and shook her head, giving up on using her abilities as a nephilim. "Okay, I've got nothing. I've got no mojo and we're just wasting time. She's gonna bleed out." Looking up at Sam, she swallowed hard. "Text Alana. Texts should be able to go through," Sam was nodding as Grace put another clean towel on Serra's back wound, dropping another wet one in the pile. "Tell her I pulled the branch because I thought I would be able to heal her, but now all she's got is a puncture wound and less blood. I'll go get the Impala and we're going to make a break for the hospital."

As Grace finished the sentence, there was a crash, followed by a few favored Winchester swear words coming from the kitchen. "Sonuvabitch," Dean's voice carried through the small house and both Grace and Sam whipped their heads around, searching for the source of Dean's voice.

"Dean?" Grace yelled, "What are you doing here? I thought you were—" Grace's voice cut out in shock, seeing her husband standing in the kitchen, clutching their infant daughter. "What the hell?"

Dean was shaking his head, looking slightly queasy. "I was," he coughed, leaning against the counter. "I picked her up from the playpen and bam," he continued, staring down at Faith as he held her. "I ended up over here."

Sam turned towards his brother with his eyes wide. "How?" he asked, his mouth agape.

Shaking his head, Dean answered, "I don't know. I guess Faith can bamf us both?" He swallowed and made a face, "But I'm starting to remember why I don't like doing it." He moved closer towards Grace and Serra, still on the floor of the house. "How is she?"

"We're going to the hospital," Grace answered, still barely controlling her emotions. "Sam texted Alana, I was just going to go get the Impala."

Dean bent down to touch Grace's hand as she held the towels in place and at the same time, Sam reached for Serra's hair, tucking it behind her ear. It happened all at once. There was a flash of light as lightning made contact with the house, shattering windows and knocking the chimney down. Bricks tumbled into the house, crushing dishes that had been on the countertop. Dean leaned towards Serra, covering his sister-in-law, wife, and infant daughter with his body as Sam did the same, covering the other half of Serra's body with his own.

The living room lit up with a blinding blue light and Grace felt the tug as she was pulled across space and time, still connected to her sister, husband, and daughter as they made physical contact with her. Sam was suddenly there as well, and as the light faded, Grace opened her eyes, glancing around her. They were in the middle of a tiled floor, surrounded by white walls and wooden doors.

"What the hell?" she repeated, lifting her head. "Where are we?"

Faith gurgled happily in Dean's arms.

"Dean?" Sam asked; resting his hands on his own chest, almost to make sure he was still in one piece. "You okay?"

"Yeah," Dean's gruff voice answered. "You?"

Sam nodded and he glanced at Grace, who was still holding the bloody pile of towels to Serra's openly bleeding wound. "Grace?"

"Yeah," Grace agreed. "Are we…" she glanced around and shook her head, "are we at the hospital?"

Dean turned in a complete circle, looking for any clue on what could be happening. "Holy shit," he whispered, staring down at his daughter. "The kids are alone with Crowley."

…

"What happened to Daddy?" Everett asked, looking up from the movie that was playing on Jody's old TV. His hands were still clamped tightly over his ears and he sat with his legs curled underneath him in a tight little ball.

Liberty shrugged lightly, unconcerned. "Faith took him to Uncle Sammy's house to help Aunt Lucky and Momma." She looked up at the door of the panic room and smiled as she flicked her finger. The extra deadbolt Dean had installed as an easy lockdown slid into place and she turned her attention back to her brother. "I think they're going to the hospital."

Glory lay on the floor next to them, making faces at Charlotte as the baby giggled. "That man is still outside," she commented. "Is he staying?"

Lib turned towards her sister and shrugged again. "It really doesn't matter. He can't get in and doesn't want to get out, so I think we're okay as long as we stay inside."

"I like the panic room," Glory commented. "Do you like the panic room, Lee?"

Levi stood near the door of the iron room, his dark eyes narrowed and his body tense. He nodded once, watching his sister on the floor with Glory. "We're safe here," he commented. "But don't you think we need a grown-up that isn't a bad guy?"

"Momma and Daddy said no one can get into the room, so it doesn't really matter," Liberty commented. "We have a bathroom, so we can keep the big door closed."

"We're going to get hungry eventually," Levi answered, touching his belly. "And Charlie is gonna need a bottle."

Everett, Glory, and Liberty pointed to the stack of supply-filled laundry baskets in the back of the panic room in tandem. "There's lots of food over there," Libby replied. "And making a bottle isn't that hard. It's just water and a scoop of that powder stuff. I've watched Momma do it for a long old time."

Levi seemed to be satisfied with that answer and took a deep breath, relaxing a bit. "What do we do about the storm?" he asked, coming closer to sit next to Glory and his sister.

Everett flicked his deep blue eyes towards his cousin as he rocked lightly back and forth. "Delilah says she's almost done," he whispered. "Then she's coming for me."

Turning together, Glory and Liberty faced one another and then their brother. "We won't let her take you," Liberty answered gently, standing and walking calmly towards her little brother. "She'll have to come through us first." Levi stared at his cousin and nodded in agreement. "All of us," Lib added, seeing the look of determination on Levi's face.

…

"Holy shit," Alana breathed as she ran up the hallway towards her friends. "How did you get here so fast?"

Grace shook her head, "Don't ask, don't tell," she answered, wiping the hair out of her face again, smearing blood across her forehead. She turned to face Sam as Alana bent towards the floor, using her stethoscope to listen to Serra's heart as she lay in the middle of the hall. "Sammy, hold on. She's okay. She's gonna be okay."

Sam was shaking his head slowly, close to losing control completely. "She's lost so much blood," he commented quietly. He turned to Grace, anger beginning to hit his voice, "And why can't you heal her?"

"I'm sorry, Sammy, I just don't know," Grace answered, touching Sam's shoulder to keep him focused. "We'll deal with that later. Alana's here. She'll get control."

Alana looked up after taking Serra's vitals and shaking her head. "I've got a code Resus," Alana was speaking into the hand-held radio that had been attached to the front of her scrubs. "Patient bleeding out. Need OR prepped for puncture wound to spine, we'll need blood too," Alana turned as she continued to speak into the walkie as Sam bent to pick Serra up from the floor.

Sam faltered a bit as he picked Serra from the ground, buckling under Serra's weight for the first time. Grace glanced at him, worried, and shook her head. "Sam, stop," she commented, holding out her hand. "You're exhausted. Switch," she pointed at Dean while maintaining the pressure she kept on Serra's wound. "Carry Serra downstairs and I'll keep pressure on her back. Alana is having a gurney meet us in the ER but they're gonna start asking questions if they have to come up to get her."

Reaching for Sam, Faith seemed to understand the plan before her father and uncle did. Sam took the infant and bounced her once out of habit as Dean took his sister-in-law from his brother's arms; her head and arms hanging like a rag doll. Grace stood with them, trying to keep the towel pressed to her back as she tucked her sister's head towards her husband's chest and walked with him, keeping pace through the hall as Alana held the elevator door open.

Following quickly behind them, Sam stared at the trail of blood that followed behind his wife and brother. His life seemed to be unraveling quickly and panic threatened to take control of his body. Faith seemed to recognize that her uncle was rapidly coming undone. She reached out with a chubby hand and touched his face, holding it there and forcing him to close his eyes as she sent calming thoughts into his mind. By the time they all reached the elevator, Sam felt marginally better, and smiled lightly as his niece.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he whispered, hugging her close.

The doors closed behind them and Grace adjusted, trying to keep more blood from escaping her sister. Swallowing hard, Grace reached across her sister and adjusted Serra's arms so that they weren't hanging loose, away from Dean, and suddenly, she took a great, gasping breath as she regained consciousness.

"Serra?" Sam was first to acknowledge the change in Serra's breathing. "Can you hear me?"

Alana moved in front of Dean as he continued to hold her in a fireman's carry, his face red with exertion. "Serra?" Alana asked, timing her pulse again. "Serra, can you hear us? You're gonna be okay."

Grace stared at her sister's face, reaching out to touch her cheek as tears came to her eyes. "Hold on, kiddo," she whispered, again trying to send her healing abilities outward to take the pain from Serendipity. "Breathe, please."

"My whole body is on fire," Serra commented, wheezing. Slowly turning towards her husband and raising her eyebrows, she continued, "I told you I hated tornadoes," she whispered. "This is why."

Smiling weakly, Sam nodded, "I will never make fun of you again. I'm sorry, honey," he continued. "We're at the hospital. Alana's gonna get a team to fix you up."

Serra wheezed again, struggling to take each breath. Closing her eyes and resting her head back on Dean's shoulder, she asked, "Alana? Why can't Grace?"

Shaking her head slowly as the elevator doors opened, Grace whispered, "I don't know, kiddo. We'll worry about that later."