Chapter 36

Grace

The Warriors, minus Serra, were assembled around our giant garage door dining room table, along with our children, our niece and nephew, Sawyer, and the angels, save for Castiel. I rubbed my hands together, taking a deep breath. This was the most at ease I had been in ten years, because finally, I knew exactly what we needed to do. I had a plan.

"First of all, thank you for having the faith in my abilities, and thank you for staying this long," I began, staring at our friends. "There is an end in sight."

Donna let out a huff of air that she had been holding. "I can't tell you how long I've been waiting to hear you say that," she smiled.

"There's a lot we have to do in only a little bit of time. Lucifer is down, but he won't be down much longer. I weakened him by taking so much of Sammy's blood and the grace he had taken from Chuck," I took a deep breath and surveyed the room. We were a ragtag bunch of old hunters, thrown together and more of a family than ever before. I even had a soft spot in my heart for the angels that followed my orders unenthusiastically. "We are going to have to split up in order to get what we need. I can't be bouncing around right now—I have to go get Serra."

"I'm taking notes, boss lady," Ryan ventured, holding a notepad. "What do we need?"

"We need the Michael Sword," I began, taking a breath.

Dean nodded, looking away uncomfortably. "I'm on that," he volunteered.

I chose to ignore his guarded attitude. I knew exactly what he was thinking and simply didn't have the time to comfort him. He knew my feelings about it, but it was necessary evil we knew we would eventually have to face. The idea that Michael might not give my husband's body back after the battle wasn't even something that I could afford to think about at this moment.

"And I need all seven Stones." I glanced at Ryan and Santiago, who sat near one another at the table. They glanced at each other, exchanging the same thought. "You don't know where Serra's is, do you?"

They both shook their heads. "We all hid our own," Ryan answered. "Especially considering we didn't need them all to keep creating weapons or bullets. Charlie's is the Stone we use for pouring now. She's our Armorer."

I nodded. "Can you get the other five easily? I think I know where Serra's is."

Santi and Ryan exchanged glances once more. "Yes," Santiago agreed. "I believe we can get them quickly.

Turning towards our children, I took a deep breath and dropped my voice to almost a whisper. "You guys are going to get your Gates up and running. We need to be able to open and close them on command, without thinking about it." Lib, Glory, and Faith nodded earnestly. Then, I tossed a piece of notebook paper onto the table. "These are the ingredients we will need for the last spell," I added, glancing at my niece and nephew. Everett's blue eyes flicked to mine and stared hard at me. I continued without acknowledging him. "Lee, Charlie: you're up."

Charlotte licked her lips as she picked up the sheet. "We're on it, Auntie."

I nodded. "Good. Two hours," I replied with finality. "Everyone is back here and ready to finish this in two hours."

With that, everyone pushed away from the dining room table and moved into action. Only my son remained. He continued to stare at me, his steel blue eyes unwavering from mine. Dean hesitated, glancing in my direction. I nodded, giving him permission to stay.

"Why are you giving Lee and Charlie jobs that don't matter?" he asked. "Why are you lying to them?"

"Because I need them to stay occupied. Those ingredients are important," I answered, "just not for getting Sam back."

"Why lie?" Everett pressed.

Dean stepped forward, taking a deep breath to address our son. "Because sometimes," he sighed, "keeping someone busy is more important than telling the truth. Mom can't have Charlie's grief get in the way. She's impulsive, just like Serra."

"I can't risk her going off and trying to do something on her own," I finished. "If I give her a job, she feels like she's being useful."

"She's going to be pissed when she realizes what you did," Everett commented.

"Probably," I agreed. "But we'll already be reunited by the time she figures it out."

This seemed to satisfy Everett and he wandered away. I turned to Dean and smiled, seeing Liberty standing in the doorway. Her thoughts were saturated with the new boy, Sawyer and I glanced at Dean and shook my head, already knowing how this conversation was about to play out.

I excused myself to change my clothes and allowed my husband to have his talk with our daughter.

…

Lib

Dad turned to stare at me, convincing himself to continue with the conversation he was tossing around in his head. "How'd your little date go?"

"Date?" I asked, lifting my eyebrows. "Someone has been tattling."

Daddy chuckled, taking a long drink of whiskey, directly from the hip flask he carried every once and awhile. He was stressed out—whiskey was too hard to find now for him to drink it casually. "Tattling," he repeated, screwing the top back on. "You, uh," he puffed out his cheeks and rolled his head from side to side. "You have protection, yeah?"

"What?" I turned and narrowed my eyes at my father. "How much did Glory tell you?"

"Maybe she should have told me more!" Dad was tilting his head and lifting his eyebrows. "You are too much like me to be out there galivanting around with some boy you barely know."

"What?"

Dad took another swig of the whiskey flask. "I've never sat down and had a chat about the birds and the bees," he stumbled through the sentence awkwardly and suddenly, I couldn't help but laugh. "What?" he asked, looking offended. "Why are you laughing?"

"You're trying to have a sex talk with me? Now?" I giggled and shook my head. "Daddy, you're about six years too late."

Daddy lifted his eyebrows and tilted his head towards me. "What, now?"

I licked my lips and rolled my eyes. "Auntie Luck was a nurse. She gave us all that talk years ago, right after I started my period. Avoid the clap. Don't get knocked up."

Glory's voice called out from her bedroom, "Use protection!"

"All of us got the same talk."

Giggling at the constant mantra we had heard our mothers say for years, Charlie threw an arm over my shoulder as she walked by, guns and knives hanging from leather straps all over her body. "Did you use protection?" she asked, waggling her eyebrows at me. "Don't think Uncle Dean is ready to be a grandpa just yet."

"Oh my god," Dad's eyes rolled to the back of his head, weaving slightly.

"We're good, Daddy," I soothed, holding out my hand and patting his arm. "We didn't have sex. If we did, I would have used something."

"He looks like he might pass out," Charlie commented, still leaning on me. "Say 'sex' again. See what happens."

Mom came out just in time and pushed Charlie out the door, "You're as bad as your mother," she commented shooing her away, "Go do your job."

I glanced at Mom and smiled gently. We were all in a remarkably good mood, considering Auntie's body was still laying on our couch in the living room. "We're trying to distract ourselves," I provided.

Mom smiled gently, "I'll allow it." Smiling, I made the move to walk away, to join my siblings as we helped organize for the coming battle, but Mom's voice stopped me once more. "This is it, Lib," she murmured. "This is what we have been preparing for most of your life. Are you in the game?"

"Yeah," I agreed. "Are you?"

The look on my mother's face was that of pride. "Damn straight," Mom agreed. "I just need you and your siblings to be ready for whatever we see out there."

"What do you mean?"

Mom licked her lips. "I had a dream of this battle when Faith was a baby," she began. "All of the Gates were open, Dad had Michael. We were all fighting." I listened as Mom and Dad exchanged looks. "In my dream all those years ago, there were a set of hillsides and a bunker, like a weapons' hold. We had the Michael Sword, but didn't realize that Daddy needed to take Michael until it was almost too late."

"But we're ready for that," I argued, glancing at my father. "We have known this was coming for years."

"It's just a lot of pressure," Daddy added. "For this to finally be what the ending looks like…" he took another swig of whiskey. "We don't get another shot at this."

I turned to my father, who I loved more than anyone in this whole world and I felt the swelling of pride in my chest. "We won't need one," I whispered. "We're the fucking Winchesters."