A.N.: I'm still not over these characters and this story, so here I am, back again with a little bit more. Sorry if these are all over the place, I'm writing at 2am in the middle of finals season. Thank you all for the support!


Lawrence, KS - 2001

Something was tapping at her window. Grace rolled over in bed, thinking it was better to leave it alone. Her parents were out of town at a funeral for the next three days, and the Winchesters were also out of town, so she was left alone. Not a problem, until something came knocking in the middle of the night. Ignore it. Wendigos try to knock to get you outside. But the knocking grew more and more frantic. Grace got up, bracing herself before she opened the curtains.

Dean was crouched down in the bushes, incessantly tapping at the window. "What's wrong?"

"Gracie, I need you to let me in. I've got about two minutes before they make it to this block. I can explain everything, but I need you to let me in."

She paused, looking closer. He was covered in blood. Whatever this was, it looked like Dean. "What were we hunting in New York last summer?"

"A varkolak. We stayed at that creepy old hotel and broke into a national monument in the middle of the night." Satisfied that it was him, she opened the window, helping him inside. As Dean locked the window and closed the curtains, she doused him with holy water.

"Sorry, had to check." Grace smiled, giving him a hug. "Let's get you cleaned up, and then you've got to tell me why you're covered in blood and running from the cops. Again."


Lawrence, KS - 2002

Both cars were in the driveway, but the house was oddly quiet when Grace walked in. She set her duffel bag on the ground in the front hall, shedding her shoes and her jacket. It was much warmer inside. Her parents had the heat on, a fire flickering in the living room that illuminated the ornaments on their Christmas tree. "Mom? Dad?"

Grace stood in the front hall for a moment, waiting. They had to be home. She'd called earlier at a gas station, leaving a message to let them know that she was almost home for winter break. As she walked further into the house, something told her that she needed to be careful. One of the picture frames that sat on the hall table had fallen to the floor, glass shattering everywhere. The bowl where they normally kept their keys had been turned over.

Rounding the corner into the living room, she knew what she was going to see before she laid eyes on them. Both of her parents sat in armchairs, deathly pale. "Dad?" Grace grabbed his hand, feeling for a pulse. Nothing.

There wouldn't have been a pulse to feel for. Both of them had the distinct puncture marks on their necks. "No..." She fumbled for her phone. There was only one person she could think to call, but before she reached it, something grabbed her wrist. Instinctively she fought back, landing a swift kick in the shin of the one that had held onto her. A sharp elbow into the other one, and she was nearly free.

The tree vampires dragged her away from her parents, but just as they wrenched her from the chairs, the front door broke open. Grace had never been more relieved to see John Winchester. The vampire's surprise gave her a good five seconds to pull herself free and reach for the fire poker, which she drove into the nearest of them, forcing it backwards until it was pinned into the wall. John took out the one closest to the door, and was locked in combat with the other. Grace couldn't leave the one she had injured - it would heal soon if she didn't find something to decapitate it with, but John had the only machete.

As the vampire backed John into a corner, Dean sprinted in from the kitchen, covering his dad. The two of them came to inspect the vampire Grace had impaled, watching as it tried to free itself from the wall she had driven the fire poker into. Dean reached out for her, pulling her away as John held a blade to its neck. "Where's the nest?"

Dean led her into the front hall, Grace finally letting everything wash over her. "They're dead," she mouthed, Dean nodding along. He wrapped his arms around her, keeping her close as she shivered in the heat.

"Nothing's going to hurt you." He kissed the top of her head just as the swing of a machete echoed from the living room. "I promise."


Leo, Wyoming - 2003

Nothing's going to hurt you. The words swum in her brain as Grace's vision grew foggier. Nothing's going to hurt you. Dean swore under his breath, deciding that they'd be fine if he raced through the traffic light. There was no one nearby anyway.

She'd sewn him up after plenty of hunts, but this was the first time she'd been seriously hurt since her parents died. Someone had always been looking out for her - John, Dean, Bobby, Rufus, Ellen, even Jo and Ash, when they went hunting together. He was supposed to be looking out for her. This was his fault. "Gracie, how are you doing?"

"Fine." She gritted her teeth, Dean reaching back to hold her hand over the seat. "Can I have your jacket? Or can you turn the air down? I'm freezing?"

Dean glanced back at her, already wrapped in his jacket. He frowned as he sped up even more.

It took two days of Dean sitting by her side constantly, but the nurses kept assuring him that she would make it through. He'd only left her side to shower and change and find food. The nurses would look in on them to see him asleep in his chair, holding her hand even as he slept. They would smile to themselves, telling security to look away when they made their hourly patrols. Visiting hours were long over, but no one was about to kick him out.

"Look, I don't know who's out there," Dean whispered. It was late, incredibly late on the second night he'd been sitting by her side. "I don't know if you're listening, but if you are, please. I need her to be okay. She's... I was supposed to keep her safe. She's everything." His voice broke for a second, Dean clearing his throat. "Please. I don't know what I'm supposed to do now. Just... help me. Help her." He took a deep breath, adding, "Gracie, I'm sorry. I don't know what I'd do if - I don't want to think about it. You're going to be okay. Please be okay."

She squeezed his hand, her voice gravelly as she spoke. Her eyes were still closed, and every cell in her body hurt, but she managed an, "I love you, Dean. We're gonna be okay."


Cassadaga, FL - 2004

It was the last hunt they would ever go on. Grace could feel it. Something hung in the air between them, ever since they left the fortune teller's house. Cassadaga, Florida, was one of the biggest "spiritualist centers" in the country, and when they'd caught wind of a haunting, they had to check it out. It turned out to be a typical ghost, but Grace wanted to stop to have their fortunes read.

There were plenty of mediums, spiritualists, and psychics to choose from, but the two of them had chosen the oldest and most qualified of all of them. As soon as they walked into the room, the woman's face had grown cold. As she held Dean's hand, the woman shook her head sadly, telling him that there would be a lot fo trouble ahead for him. The two of them had the worst fates she had ever read, and she had no qualms about telling them. There would be plenty of happy moments, but they were going to face the worst troubles they could imagine.

Psychics weren't used to hunters, they figured. But that wasn't all. She had looked to Grace, telling her that they would both venture into Hell, but she would be taking Hell back with her. But what stuck with Dean was what he'd overheard as he got up to take a call from his dad asking about how the hunt was going. "That boy is dangerous. You may go through Hell, but it's never going to leave him. I never tell people this, I let them make their own choices, but dear, he's... not safe. He loves you, but he'll love you to death. The boy's a magnet for trouble, and the kind of trouble he attracts isn't your normal arrests or bar fights."

Naturally they ventured out to the Devil's Chair, where the Devil himself was supposed to appear at midnight. The cemetery was technically closed at night, but that had never stopped a Winchester. Dean picked the lock, holding the door open for Grace. It took a little while to find, but eventually, Dean and Grace sat down, waiting under the light of a near-full moon. "I don't think we should be messing with stuff like this. We're not summoning anything, but we know how much damage demons can do."

"It's a local legend, don't worry," Dean whispered, pulling her into a hug as a cool breeze blew through the cemetery.

"In our line of work, local legends are usually true."

Dean held her close, asking if their line of work was really right for her. "It's not safe. Are you sure you don't want to have a real life?"

"This is a real life," she answered, checking her watch. Two minutes to midnight. "We've talked about this too much. I know you want me to be safe, I know you're the kind of self-sacrificing and giving things up for hunting, but you're not giving me up too. I can make my own choices, Dean." She turned to kiss him, adding, "I've already chosen you. I love you, Dean Winchester."

The two of them sat there for a while, but no Devil appeared. Around 12:30, they gave up, heading back to the Impala to begin the long drive back home. Grace settled into the passenger seat, using Dean's jacket as a pillow. Dean turned the radio down, letting her sleep. It took a while for her to fall asleep, though. All she could think of was the woman's warning. He's not safe. He'll love you to death. Was that really what lay ahead of them? Heaven, Hell, all of it? Or was it supposed to be an elaborate metaphor? Anyone else could have chalked it up to an exaggeration, but for them, it very well could be possible.

Dean kept his eyes on the road as they cruised down the Florida highway. She was right. He was dangerous. The Winchesters were magnets for trouble, the Heaven and Hell kind. No matter how much they tried to avoid it, demons and all sorts of evil creatures would find them. I should go. I should go and not come back. I love her. But if we stay together, and she gets killed, it'll be my fault. ask Bobby. He'll be able to give you some advice. He glanced at her for a second, smiling to himself. He couldn't leave. She was the best thing that had ever happened to him, aside from Sam.


Shiloh County, Sioux Falls, SD - 2006

"I love you, Dean. We're gonna be okay." Dean sat up, looking for the smile that usually came with those words. Grace leaned on the wall of the hospital room, giving him the soft smile that he'd missed so much.

"Gracie, I'm sorry." Two, nearly three years had been too long. He still felt horribly about how he'd left, but it had been for her safety. "Wait, how did you find me?"

"I didn't," she answered, walking over to gently take his hand and help him stand up. "I'm not really here." Dean turned to look as she pointed to the bed. "You're dying, Dean. You're fighting, but you're dying. Or you might be."

"And this is what, some sort of weird memory trip?"

Grace frowned, suggesting they find somewhere quiet as a group of nurses came in to check on him. She led him down the hall, taking a spot on an empty bench. "When you're dying like this, you're stuck in limbo for a while. The reapers try to send you something nice. Or your mind does. I don't really know. Well, you don't really know, so I don't really know."

"Am I really dying?"

"You might be."

"I'm sorry, Gracie. I'm sorry I left. Bobby said it was the only way to keep you safe, but now I don't know what's after you. Hell, I don't even know if you're still alive. But I'm sorry I left. I should've - you had nothing, and you needed me. I shouldn't have made you start from scratch again."

It took her a moment, but she had to tell him. "Grace would tell you it's alright, that she misses you but she's living her life. But I'm not really her. I'm part of your imagination. She probably hated you for a while after you left. Or wondered if something had happened to you. You didn't go to her graduation. She looked out over that crowd and knew you wouldn't be there, but she looked for you anyway. Bobby went. You saw the photo on his desk the last time you were there, but I don't think your conscious mind processed it."

"So what, you're going to sit here and talk like... you're not really a comforting hallucination like that."

"Do you want me to replay memories instead?" She raised an eyebrow, saying, "I can, if you want. Or I can sit here and tell you that you need to get your shit together and find her. How long have you wanted to? How many times did you have to stop yourself? How many times did your dad have to stop you?"


Hell - 2008

Nothing new under the sun, and nothing new in Hell, apparently. "What is it today, Allie?" Dean taunted, Alistair drawing closer. "Come to crack some ribs again?"

"Oh no," Alistair smiled, snapping his fingers. Grace appeared in front of him, tied up and gagged.

"Let her go," Dean growled.

"Or what?" Alistair took his time, inspecting the instruments he'd brought with him. "I've told you, this is an art. I can teach you. I can make you stronger than your father ever was. He had the skill for it too. What a waste."

"Don't hurt her," Dean begged. There was nothing he could do as he watched Alistair slice away at her, Grace's screams muffled but still piercing his ears.

It took everything he had, but Dean didn't break. He knew it wasn't her - it couldn't be her. She was alive and well, and living in Kansas, at least the last tie Sam had checked. How long had it been on Earth, though? Eventually Alistair left the bloody figure sitting in front of where Dean had been strung up. She was hardly recognizable anymore. It killed him. He closed his eyes, trying to drown out the pained screams of his fellow prisoners.

A soft hand lifted his chin up, Grace standing in front of him. "Gracie?"

"Shh. Don't let him hear you."

"But you're -" He looked behind her, the bloody figure of Grace still lying there. "You're on Earth."

"I am. But this," she gestured to herself, "Alistair can't see this. I'm in your head, Dean. I'm hope. The hope that you'll get out, the hope that there's an end to this. As long as he doesn't get rid of me, and Sam, and Bobby, and all of our friends, there's still hope." Grace kissed his cheek. Even the simple gesture stung. "There's still hope, and love, and good things that can get you through any amount of torture down here."

"I love you, Gracie," he managed, the words getting caught in his throat.

"I love you too."


Lebanon, KS - 2020

"Are you okay?"

"No."

This was the first moment they'd caught alone, even though the rest of the world was still missing. Sam or Jack were always around, not getting in the way on purpose but just utterly lost with no idea about how to keep going from there. They would wander the bunker, showing up unexpectedly. Grace had gone down to the basement to take stock of what they had squirreled away over the years and found Dean sitting on the floor, an empty bottle by his side. He looked like he'd been crying. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

"Okay." Grace sat down, wrapping her arms around him. Whiskey. The usual.

Dean wasn't usually one for talking feelings. He'd tell her how much he loved her, sure, but the real vulnerability came with fear and sadness, two things he'd hardly ever admit to. If he said he loved her, he knew what her answer would be. But fear and sadness were entirely different monsters. So they would sit in silence together, in hotel rooms, in the Impala, in the bunker, wherever they happened to be. They would hold on to each other, and it would be enough. Usually. Today it wasn't. "Gracie, before he - Cas told me..."

"I know." Dean looked up at her, raising an eyebrow. "You talk in your sleep."

"How much?"

"Enough."

"Gracie, I love you -" he began.

"I know," she smiled, taking his hand. Her wedding ring sparkled in the semi-darkness, the weight between them growing heavier as Dean scrambled to explain what he'd been dwelling on for the last few days.

He stared straight ahead, not being able to bring himself to make eye contact with her. "I found out... they say stuff, about people like me. The idiots on the Internet do, anyway. About how we're bound to cheat on people, how we should just give up and pick a side, about how - I love you, Gracie. I need you to understand that. But Cas, I care so much about Cas and I don't want to say it but," he hesitated for a second, the words hitting him again. "I love him too. And I'm scared, because I don't know what that means."

Half of him thought she was going to get up and walk out. He knew she wouldn't, but half of him wondered if she would, if she was tempted to. But Grace gently turned his chin, forcing him to look at her. "It's okay."

It took him a minute to process. "What?"

"It's okay," she repeated, wiping away the tears that tracked down his cheeks. "I know it's taken you a really long time to admit, and I'm proud of you for it. Especially with your dad, with the way you grew up -"

"What does it mean, though?"

He was asking for answers she didn't have, but she did her best. "Do you love me?"

"Yes. Of course. Gracie, I -"

"Then it's all good. You can love two people at the same time. There's nothing wrong with it." She let it sink in before telling him that, "You love him, and you lost him. You love me, and I'm here. Let me help you. At least let me be here with you."

"It just feels wrong. Chuck wrote us for each other, not..."

"Since when did we listen to what Chuck wanted? Since when did Cas?" she asked, giving him a kiss. "I love you, Dean Winchester. And I'm proud of you. I'll always be here for you."

He leaned his head on her shoulder, quiet for a bit. "Thank you."

Grace kissed the top of his head, the two of them sitting in the basement together for ages. Eventually they went back upstairs, Dean heading to their room and Grace rejoining Sam in the war room. He'd been trying to figure out how to properly can and dehydrate fruits and vegetables before the world's supply started to rot. "Hey, I've got another batch of jam cooling in the kitchen. This one's blueberry. Is everything alright? You've been gone for a while."

"It's fine," she told him, sitting down opposite. "When you get a chance, I want all of us to start coordinating the next supply run. I'm thinking we go east this time. I'm going to say we take one of the old trucks and fill it with stuff to start a garden."


Canton, OH - 2020

Grace numbly walked out of the barn, knocking on the Impala's window. The older of the two kids popped up from the back seat, holding onto Miracle. Motioning for them to unlock the doors, Grace crouched down to talk to them. "Are you crying?" the youngest asked.

She nodded, wiping at her cheeks. "Even adults get scared sometimes," she told them. "It's okay to be scared. But we're gonna get you home."

The next hour went by in a blur. Luckily the kids' grandparents lived down the block from their house, so Grace drove them over, slightly blurring their memories. Sam stayed at the barn, waiting for her to come back. When she returned, he'd managed to take Dean down off of the piece of rebar that held him up. The two of them stood together, staring at him for a while. "What do we have in the car? How... how do we want to do this?" Sam managed, looking over to Grace, who had since sat down next to Dean's body.

"We can't put him in the trunk like we do with monsters. But it's a sixteen hour drive."

"I think we've got sheets in the trunk. Can you... is there a spell to..."

"Yeah."

"Good." Sam left her with the body while he went to search the car. Grace held onto Dean's hand, feeling it growing colder. She whispered a few words under her breath, buying them a day or so before he would inevitably start breaking down. There was nothing she could say, no words to whisper other than a tearful, "I love you."

They left the barn intent on not stopping for anything other than gas. Grace drove first, Miracle sandwiched between her and Sam. They'd stretched Dean across the back seat, Grace casting mirage-like spell to keep anyone else from seeing that they were transporting a dead body sixteen hours across the country.

The only stops they made were to get gas, switch drivers, and walk Miracle. Neither of them was hungry, but they stopped to feed the dog at a rest area in Illinois. They drove with the radio and their phones turned off, saying very little other than asking for directions. When Sam took over, Grace thought she'd try to sleep, but had no luck. Everything was numb, but she couldn't close her eyes without seeing the horrible scene she'd walked in on when she reentered the barn.

He lost everything except for you and Sam. Cas is gone. He was done. He was tired of hunting. Did he run at that vampire on purpose? She couldn't turn her brain off, and she knew Sam was thinking the same thing. No, he has - had - you. And Sam. And Miracle, and Jack, and all of our friends. He was applying for jobs. We were looking for houses. But how do you know? He's always been good at hiding things. Don't think about it. Don't think about it. She could feel herself crying, but it didn't register until Sam pulled over on the side of the empty highway. He was crying too, his vision too blurry to keep driving right away.

Most of the trip went like that, the two of them driving in shifts and occasionally pulling over to break down. Neither of them had to say a word. Miracle was the only one in the car who still smiled, eagerly leaning over to comfort whoever had started crying.


Heaven - ?

"Hi you," Grace laughed, Miracle jumping up on the couch with her. "Is dad back yet?"

The door opened, Grace setting her coffee mug down as Miracle noticed the loons out on the lake. It had been getting chillier, the birds migrating south and stopping to float around the lake in the mist. She loved sitting there to watch them as the leaves slowly turned red, orange, and yellow. At least until Miracle would race over and bark at them, reminding Dean and Grace that the birds were out there again. "Gracie!"

She smiled, coming to give Dean a kiss before he wiped off his boots. "Ugh, you're all sweaty."

"Sam and I have been working on Jody's place all day. She's got Sean and Owen to help her, but it's a lot faster with a few more hands. What have you been up to?"

"I went to visit Rowena." Jack had transferred her powers to the new Death, but he let Grace freely travel between Heaven, Hell, and Earth. One of the Winchesters needed to be able to. "She, Charlie, and I are almost done working on the Earth monitoring system. Soon we're going to be able to know when a reaper has an assignment for a hunter's kid, so we can be ready up here. It'll make it a lot easier for all of us. Oh! Charlie's going to start getting Jody set up so she can help with the kids. You know she always adopted whatever hunter kids she came across. We've always got a couple whose parents haven't gotten here yet."

Dean left his shoes at the door, thinking he'd get the fire going before he took a shower. "Speaking of, I invited Jody for dinner Friday. And Sam and Eileen."

Grace followed him into the living room, Dean stopping to pet Miracle before he got to work on the fire. "Also speaking of, how do you feel about taking in one of those hunter kids? His name's Elliot. He's eleven, and he's getting here tomorrow night. Wendigo. I got the heads-up from Jack earlier, but I figured I'd wait until you got home to ask. Do you think we're ready?"

Even though Grace was in charge of setting up the hunter kids with homes until their parents got there, she and Dean had yet to take one in themselves. There was no particular reason why, but the unspoken agreement between the two of them had been to wait. Taking in a child, no matter if it was only for a week, would be officially saying that they knew they could never have kids, that they knew their family couldn't expand permanently. Dean stood up, suddenly serious. He pulled her into a hug, asking, "Do you think you're ready? Why this one?"

"He's a bit of a trouble maker, he was raised on classic rock, and he's a lot more brave than he gives himself credit for," she smiled. "His parents aren't due up here for a while."

"If you think you're ready."