Michael dropped her hand, blinking for a moment. If she didn't know better, she would've said that the image startled the angel. For half of a second, Grace could see Dean behind his eyes, struggling to take control of his own body again. She'd managed to get through to him, even if it was only for a few seconds. "That's what you desire the most?"
"For Dean and I to be happy? To have a real family, and not have to worry about the next apocalypse? Yes." She leaned against the kitchen counter, Michael regarding her coolly. "That's what I want. It's nothing flashy, nothing… no power grabbing or taking over the planet. Just a nice life where we don't have to constantly be watching our backs."
"Such a simple little life," he remarked. "Pitiful. So very human."
"But it's happy. We wouldn't have monsters coming after us all the time, and we'd finally be able to have a life. We'd still be able to go hunting and help other hunters, but we'd have a real life." Grace paused, seeing an opportunity. "Can I talk to him? Just for a bit? Please. I led you to your perfect vessel, and I convinced him to say yes when he doubted himself. Let me talk to him."
Something shifted behind his eyes again, Michael suddenly gone. Dean looked around, processing where he was before rushing to pull her into a hug. "Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He looked her over, noticing how big her stomach had gotten. "Gracie I'm sorry -"
"I'm fine. It's been a hell of a time, but I'm fine. I've missed you so much."
"I've missed you too. It's… it's nothing like fighting demon possession, it's so much worse. I can see and hear everything I'm doing, and it's like I'm a prisoner in my own brain. Watching my own hands kill innocent people, I can't do this."
"We're going to find a way to fix this," Grace vowed, wishing they had any idea of where to start. It wasn't like they could just exorcise the archangel. He was the most powerful being in his dimension. They'd need Chuck to stand a chance of winning against Michael. "We always do. Here, I'm going to give you another reason to fight." She took his hand, setting it on her stomach. "We're having twins. The doctors say it's still a little early to tell, but Cas thinks it's a boy and a girl. I'm thinking Robert John and Samantha Mary. Or Cassie. Or maybe something else instead of John. You know I never liked him. But 'Castiel' is such an odd name for a human child. We've got time, though. What do you think? Or should we name them after someone else?"
Dean smiled, giving her a kiss. "Thank you. I, Gracie - thank you." He held onto her for a moment, soaking in the life he once had. The only small mercy Michael had given him was allowing him to wear his wedding ring. And not snapping his wife's neck as soon as he saw her. "I don't know how long he's going to give me, but you can't trust me. You can't trust him. I'm fighting it as much as I can, but he's too good. If he can find you here… you should be at the bunker with Sam and Mom. People who can watch out for you." His grip suddenly tensed, Dean letting go of her and stepping back as fast as he could.
"What's wrong?"
"Michael. Grace, you need to get out of here." Channeling the power of the archangel, he reached out for her, zapping her as far away as he could. In the brief glimpse of him she got before her vision went dark, Grace saw his eyes turn electric blue.
The first thing she felt was the ringing in her ears. Then every bone in her body hurt. She was lying on a cold concrete floor, dropped from an impossible height. It didn't feel like anything was broken, but something felt off. Slowly sitting up, the sound of a distant voice and rushing footsteps echoed in her ears. As her vision got clearer, she could make out Sam's form coming closer, Cas following in his wake. Both of them still looked hazy, everything finally coming into view as Cas reached out to heal her. "How did you get here?"
Ignoring the commotion going on up the stairs, she looked between them. "Michael. Or Dean? He was Michael, and then he was Dean, and then -" She took a deep breath, pain radiating through her ribs.
Sam cut her off, looking down at her stomach. "More importantly, what happened to you?"
"What?" Grace followed his eyes, realizing that she'd shrunk three sizes in the last ten seconds. Oh God. Chuck, if you're out there, please -
"Sam, we, ah, have a bit of an issue." They looked up to see Mary standing at the top of the stairs, two children at her side. They couldn't have been more than five years old, but that didn't make sense. They shouldn't have been even a year old, not yet. They shouldn't have been born yet. She held their hands as they gawked, staring around the bunker in awe. The three of them slowly made their way downstairs, the kids letting go of Mary's hands and immediately rushing over to hug Grace.
As Sam and Mary watched, Grace held onto both of them, looking them over. The girl had hair a little darker than her own, tied up into pigtails that were a little lopsided but made with care. The boy was covered in freckles, a spitting image of Dean, save for his eyes. They were darker, like hers, but even the shape of his face looked like his father's. "Mom?"
"Robbie," she smiled, pulling him into a hug. "Robert Winchester, happy birthday." She made eye contact with Sam and Mary, who stared incredulously as she pulled her daughter in too. "Samatha Mary, happy birthday to you too. Where have you two been?"
"Outside. And then inside," the girl answered, letting go of Grace and starting to take in the war room. She stopped in front of Sam, thinking for a moment. "You're really tall."
Sam smiled, picking her up as Grace came over with Robbie in tow. "Samantha, Robbie, this is your Uncle Sam and your Grandma Mary." As she introduced them, an unspoken agreement passed between the three adults. As soon as the kids were asleep, they had to figure out what the hell had happened. "And this," she pivoted as Cas walked over, "is your Uncle Cas."
"Hi there," Cas smiled, struggling to understand what had happened. Robbie motioned for him to pick him up, and Cas complied. "There you go, you're as tall as us now." Grace could tell he was trying to read through their memories and figure out what Michael had done. It had to have been Michael. That was the only thing that even sort of made sense.
Instead of working on finding Michael, they were forced to stay calm, Mary going to get a room ready for the kids while Sam and Grace made dinner. Samantha trailed after her namesake, insisting that her uncle let her help. Robbie followed Cas to the library, where he was starting to assemble a collection of books for the other adults to go through after dinner. He'd taken to the angel immediately, perhaps sensing something similar to the angel that his father currently was.
It was strange having a family dinner, and even stranger without Dean. grace had pictured this kind of a moment before, but it had always been in a real house, not three stories below ground. And Dean was always there. But this was what they had for now, and it was what they would work with. As Mary and Grace gave the kids a bath and got them ready for bed, Sam and Cas began theorizing, scouring the books Cas had picked up earlier, but finding almost nothing that was helpful.
Grace sat on the corner of what had once been her bed, Samantha and Robbie now taking it over. "We'll get you your own rooms soon. We're going to be moving in a few days," she promised.
"Mom?" Robbie asked, "Can you tell us about the angels?"
"The angels?"
"Is Daddy an angel?" Samantha asked, cocking her head slightly.
Grace sighed, silent for a moment. She got up, sorting through a box of her things that she had yet to move. When she sat back down, she handed them an old photo, taken many years before. She and Dean were posed in front of a statue of a giant goose, one of the strangest roadside attractions they'd seen, at least up to that point. They'd set the camera up on top of the Impala, only just making it into place before the timer ran out and snapped a photo. "This is your dad. He's away right now, but he'll be home soon. He loves you both very much."
"Where is he?"
"Your dad does a lot of things," she answered. "Sometimes he has to travel to help people, so he goes away for a few days." She didn't want to have the monster talk without Dean. Sure, handling monsters that lived under beds or in basements was no big deal. But she and Dean would have to figure out when they wanted to give their kids the talk. Winchesters were magnets for trouble, and they would have to find out eventually, but not now. "You two have had a big day. You should get some rest. Uncle Sam's going to need your help at the store tomorrow. If you're really good, he might stop for ice cream on the way home."
As soon as she closed the door behind her, Grace sighed, trying to untangle the mess that was the last few hours. Part of her wanted to cry. This was something she needed Dean here for. He was supposed to be here, supposed to be part of their kids' lives. Another part of her wanted to go to sleep and hopefully wake up back at the cabin, realizing all of this was just a weird dream. She'd been having a lot of those lately. But she twisted the ring on her finger, pushing any emotion aside for the time being before going to join Sam, Cas, and Mary out in the war room.
Cas was the first one by her side, materializing out of nowhere. "Let me have a look at you."
"Excuse me?"
"An archangel dropped you in the middle of the bunker, and you've suddenly got two little kids when you weren't even through your second trimester," he said, putting a hand to her forehead. "You're fine." He stepped back, clearly impressed. "How are you fine? The kids are fine too. Two normal, healthy kids with no memories of how they got here."
"Good, but how did any of this happen?"
"From what we can figure, it's a lot easier to transport people with independent bodies," Sam told her as she sat down next to him. He slid a book over, explaining that, "Archangels can do it, but it's always got some sort of risk involved. I think Michael… I don't know if he sped up time or what, but I think he didn't want to risk hurting the kids when he sent you back here."
Grace scanned the page in front of her, which confirmed a lot of what Sam had said. "I don't think it was Michael," she posed. "I think it was Dean. He showed up - Michael did - and I got through to Dean, for just a minute. He's fighting. He told me I had to get out of there, and I swear it was Dean who sent me back. He can control Michael, but not for long. He did it to make sure all of us got back safe." She looked between the three of them, adding, "That's what I want to believe, anyway."
"It could've been," Mary agreed. "But if it was, Michael's letting him fight. If he wanted to, he could've thrown his soul out right away."
"I still have no clue where to start on that, but I do know I'm not raising my kids in a bunker. We're going to turn that power plant into a house. I'm going to need some help. There's a spell - a couple of spells - that should work, since I've got some building materials to start with. Natural things aren't that hard to manipulate into other natural things. But I am going to need some weird ingredients too."
"I'll find whatever you need," Cas volunteered.
Sam and Grace shared a look, realizing that Cas was stepping in to care for her kids like he'd tried to care for Jack. He was still so afraid of losing Jack, but they could tell that he felt like he needed to do even better with his niece and nephew. "We're going to make this work," Sam promised. "And we're going to find a way to bring Dean home."