The bunker was way too quiet when Grace got inside. The war room was empty, chairs strewn about like everyone had left in a hurry. Almost like they'd fled. A half-eaten sandwich sat on a plate, a couple of flies buzzing around it. Grace took the plate to the kitchen, where she noticed a bunch of empty bottles strewn about. Someone hadn't taken the effort to throw them into the recycling bin. Something was definitely wrong.
As she walked through the bunker, she noticed Sam's door was shut. The car he usually took was in the garage, though. Odd. Dean's door was closed too. Something clattered behind it, Grace stepping inside cautiously. He sat on the corner of the bed, his head in his hands. Half a dozen empty beer bottles were on the ground at his feet. When he looked up at her, she could tell he'd been crying. "Dean, what -"
She sat down beside him, reaching out for his hand. "Mom. Jack, he… Michael… he fixed it, but then he snapped and Mom…" Grace could put it together from the string of words. It didn't need complete sentences. She knew. She'd known something was wrong all along, ever since Chuck told her she'd be getting a call. That was how it worked.
Grace wrapped her arms around him, kissing his cheek. She was silent for a moment before asking, "Dean, where are the kids? She was watching them for me while I was - Dean?"
He simply shook his head, burying his face in her neck. "I'm sorry. I couldn't… Mom tried to protect them, but she couldn't. I tried... I tried to stop him," he finally managed. "He's too powerful."
"No," Grace breathed, the shock hitting her like a semi truck. "No, he…"
"I've lost almost everything," Dean choked. "I was so close… we were so close to being free. I'm glad you weren't there. He… we have to stop him, Gracie. We were so close."
Chuck. Chuck saved you. There's a reason he let you find him. He knew it had to be now, or you would have been there. Jack would've gotten you too. "We will," she promised, laying back on the bed with him. The two of them sat in silence, alternatively sobbing and staring at the ceiling. They stayed that way for hours, clinging to each other like they were the only things left in the universe. Eventually Dean fell asleep, Grace helping him along by whispering a spell under her breath when he wasn't looking. She slowly stood, draping a blanket over him and collecting the bottles from the floor.
Nothing felt real. She'd lived in the bunker for years now, but even her home didn't seem real as she floated through the hallway, dropping the armful of bottles into the recycling bin. She stared at the collection of bottles, knowing that she should take the recycling out. It took a minute, but she reached out for the bin, slowly carrying it upstairs. Even the setting sun didn't feel real. Half expecting to wake up from this nightmare any minute, she prayed that it had all been a hallucination, that she was still in Chuck's cabin, that she'd somehow been wrapped up in a djinn's fantasy world, something. Even a cruel prank of Gabriel's would have been better.
Back in the kitchen, she washed her hands, giving up and sitting on the cold tile floor when she was done. It was enough to lean against the metallic cabinets, enough to just exist there. She knew she would have to get up eventually, go through the motions of everything. They still had Jack to worry about, of course. A rogue power that had absorbed Michael's energy, combined with the raw power of a nephilim. It was almost worse than killing Michael. She had Dean back, but things were bad in a different way now, arguably much worse.
"Oh. Hi," said a weary voice. Grace looked up to see Sam standing over her, looking like a wreck. She supposed she didn't look much better.
"Hi," she managed, standing to give him a hug. As she rose, she bit back another wave of tears.
The two of them stood there for a moment, not needing to say anything. They'd been able to communicate like that for ages. From looks across the classroom to eyerolls across the bunker, they'd mastered being able to have a full conversation without saying a word. "Is Dean…"
"Asleep. Hopefully sleeping off some of the alcohol. He should be out for another hour or so. I can do the same thing for you, if you want."
"No, I should, uh, get everything ready. We've got to burn the bodies. Or what's left of them," he answered numbly.
"We don't have to do it tonight."
Sam shook his head, letting go of her. "I hate to say it, but we're Winchesters. Prime real estate for possession."
Grace understood. Trying to bite back her tears, she volunteered to start gathering wood. "If you can get the salt, I'll… I'll wake Dean up when we're ready." She left Sam in the kitchen, brushing past him as the next round of tears started to fall. Through blurry eyes, she went outside, marking off a spot far away from the house and starting to build a funeral pyre. "Cas," she gulped, not quite knowing how to begin, "I don't know where you are, but if you want to come for the funeral -"
"I'm right here." He'd materialized behind her, offering an, "I'm sorry."
"Thanks."
"They're all in Heaven," he assured her as they made their way back to the bunker. "I accompanied them up there myself. Death usually doesn't allow it, but she made an exception. Mary and I carried the kids there ourselves. They're all at peace."
"Thank you, Cas." Grace held the door open for him, trying not to make eye contact. If she met anyone's eye, she knew she would start crying again.
Half an hour later, the four of them stood in front of what looked to be just another massive bonfire. Grace and Dean leaned on each other, entirely drained. Sam was convinced that if either of them let go of the other, they would both fall down instantly. Everyone stared at the pyre, not daring to say anything. Cas was the first one to break the silence. "I didn't know any of you for very long, but you were part of my family. You brought us all so much joy, and you will be missed. I'm glad I got to see you to the other side, and I hope you all get the peace you deserve now."
Sam stepped forward, setting a photo of his mom and the kids on the pyre, a nearly defiant symbol in the face of the halfway-disintegrated bodies Jack had left in his wake. "Mom, thank you for coming back. Thank you for being there, even if it was just a few years. I never got to know you as a kid, but I'm glad you were here, I'm glad I could… say goodbye. I'm sorry you never got the quiet retirement you wanted - deserved, but I hope you get one now." He sighed, continuing, "Samantha and Robbie, it was an honor to be your uncle, to watch you guys start to grow up. I'm sorry we didn't have more time. There were dozens of things I wanted to do with you guys, to give you the childhood Dean - your dad - and I never really got. Be good for your grandparents. Uncle Sam will see you one day."
Dean's voice sounded like it was a thousand miles away, even though Grace was standing right next to him, both of them watching the flickering pyre. "Mom, when the Darkness asked me what I wanted, I realized there were two things. I wanted to be able to say goodbye to you for real, which I guess I got. And there was something she couldn't give me." He squeezed Grace's hand, saying, "I wanted Grace to marry me. I wanted kids, a normal life, all of it. As normal as we could get. I'm glad you got the chance to meet her, Mom. I knew you would've loved her for so long. I'm glad you got to see… see us have a family. And I don't blame you for Samantha and Robbie. You did your best to protect them, I know you did. We're gonna set this right, even if we can't bring you all back."
He took a deep breath, still staring into the flames. "Samantha, Robbie, I'm sorry. I wanted to give you the most normal life, the best life I could. I wanted to keep you away from all of this. I should've known that being a Winchester is dangerous, no matter how much I tried to look out for you, no matter how much I tried, I…" He trailed off, the lump in his throat making it almost impossible to speak.
"He knows he didn't fail you." Grace stepped in, clutching Dean for both of their support. "He knows that there are things way bigger than us, things we can't control no matter how hard we try. Mommy and Daddy love you. We will always love you." Her voice broke, but she kept talking. "Thank you for all of the time we got to spend with you. I wish we had more time, but… We'll see you again one day. You two look out for each other. Be good for Grandma and Grandpa. I'll make sure Uncle Cas visits when he can. He'll watch out for you and make sure you're happy. Thank you for choosing us as your family. I know we're not perfect, but we love you."
The four of them stood there for a while, watching the flames. Cas left first, offering a round of hugs before going to put out the word among the angels that he was looking for Jack. When Sam finally headed for the bunker, thinking of making coffee, he turned to Grace and Dean, asking if they wanted to grab something to drink too. "I think we're going to stay here," Grace answered, "and watch until the end." Sam nodded, knowing that for a fire that big to burn down, they would be there until morning.
Eventually he came back outside, bringing them an armful of blankets. Dean moved the Impala so he and Grace could sit on the hood, watching the flames. Both of them mumbled a brief, "thanks", not taking their eyes off of the pyre. Hours had passed when Dean finally turned to Grace, kissing the top of her head. "Thank you for… taking care of me. Please don't hate me for Jack."
"It's not your fault," she assured him as Dean wrapped his arm around her. "There was no way you could've stopped him, and if you'd done anything differently, you'd be in there too. Not everything is your fault, Dean. You don't have to take care of everyone all of the time. We handle this together. We get through every day together. We just… can't let this drive us apart. That happens to so many people. I don't blame you for anything, Dean, and I need you to understand that now before it turns into you blaming yourself and hating yourself and… It's not your fault. It's not your fault." She had started to cry again, tripping up on the last few words.
"Thank you," he managed. "I love you, Gracie."
"I love you too, Dean."
"We were so close," he whispered. "We were so close I could taste it."
"We'll find him," Grace promised, both of them settling in as the flames climbed towards the moon. "Just not tonight."
A.N.: Sorry if updates are inconsistent for the next few weeks! I'm in the process of moving into a new place and getting the WiFi set up has been an adventure. Thank you for all of the support!