The paper was worn down and torn from the past three and a half years it had been kept in her possession.
When she was younger she had her mother read it to her every night before she went to bed. It had been a story to help her sleep.
But now, halfway through her fifth year, Hope Mikaelson had memorised the letter word for word.
After releasing a deep breath she glanced out of the window towards her mother, who had stopped the car for gas, before slowly unfolding the letter to read it once more.
'My dearest Hope.
I do not know how this will find you. As a child full of wonder, a teenager full of opinions, or a woman with the world at her feet. I write to tell you that I love you and to explain that in our family's darkest hour, I was called upon to save my siblings.
And so I did.
Please, do not mourn me. Whatever pain I endure, I do in service of those I love. My sole regret is that I will be away from you.
Be good to your mother. I draw comfort knowing that she will protect you. And I know she will not rest until our family is united... until then, my sacrifice will allow you to grow. To become the beautiful daughter I can now only imagine.
Please remember that you are the legacy this family has always desired, the promise we fought to protect.
You are and always will be...our hope.'
Tears pricked Hope's eyes and she let out a watery smile.
Her mom had told her stories of her family. Of her dad: the brave king who had fought so valiantly to protect her since her very first breath on this Earth.
She had been told the stories of her aunts and uncles, who had stood side by side during her dad's darkest hour, in order to protect their family…
Always and forever.
The letter from her dad and the tales of her fearless family, were Hope's sources of comfort during those days of impossibility. They were the only things which kept her and her mother from giving up in their efforts to save them.
And they were almost at the finish line. Five of the seven werewolf clans had been tracked down, their venom obtained… they had even found a witch to siphon Aunt Bek's curse and cure Aunt Freya's poison.
But finding the last remaining clans were proving to be a struggle and even if they managed to succeed, there was still one problem which needed to be solved.
Because in order to fully heal the beast's bite on her uncle Kol's and Elijah's desiccating flesh, they would need a binding agent to merge the five venoms into a single entity
But her mom still had no idea what binding agent they needed and Hope could see the strain it put on her with every passing day.
Hope had wanted to help and much to her mom's dismay, she had even gone so far as to tap into her own powers, into the formidable magic which brewed inside of her. Her control was feeble to say the least.
And as Hope watched her mom fill up the tank, she easily noticed the bags which were gradually brewing beneath her mother's eyes. The slight slump of her shoulders which signalled a path to defeat.
Even when they had found some kind of lead, it always felt like they were back at square one.
It was an endless cycle.
Hope chewed the bottom of her lip hard when she watched her mom release a low sigh. She recognised that expression too. It passed over her mom's face every day: she was thinking of Uncle Elijah again… and of dad… who still lay suffering in unspeakable torment.
Hope turned away from the window. She wanted her family back more than anything and her mom had promised to do whatever it took. But Hope was grudgingly beginning to wonder whether it was truly worth the strain. She just couldn't bear her mom's despair.
Too absorbed in her thoughts, Hope jumped slightly in alarm when her mother suddenly opened her door.
"Mom?" she gasped. "What?"
Her mother just placed a finger to her lips and instantly recognising the seriousness of her expression, Hope nodded and quickly exited the car, feeling the midday heat blast onto her cold skin.
Her mother crouched down, her dark eyes flashing a threatening gold and heeding the warning, Hope moved her quivering form behind her.
The two of them cautiously waited… staring out with apprehension…
Sharply scrutinising the two blurry figures which were stumbling haphazardly through the trees towards them.
Pain, agony… that was all she could think about.
It was constant and it was never-ending… until finally… it did.
One minute she had been surrounded by fire; its lethal touch charring away her skin and the next, she was lying down on something hard.
Not to mention considerably uncomfortable.
It was only when she opened her mouth that terror struck her pounding heart.
She couldn't breathe. And with that the surge of survival instinct took over.
The woman struggled frantically; her blunt fingernails clawing desperately at the mud surrounding her. It compacted tight around her body yet she refused to surrender to its grasp.
It took a few seconds for her fingertips to finally break through the surface and a sharp gasp escaped her parted lips when a hand clamped tight around her wrist.
With a sharp tug she was yanked out of the ground.
She didn't even have to glance at the owner before she stumbled into him, collapsing into his hunched frame and wrapping her trembling arms around his neck.
His body froze at the touch.
"Dean," she whispered softly, a quiet reassurance and he exhaled a ragged breath of relief.
His arms encircled her waist in response, his face burying into her hair.
"Grace," he rasped out in relief and awe. When he pulled back, his hands remained firmly clasped on her shoulders. "For a second, I thought I was the only one to get out - the thought of leavin' you there with that good for nothing bastard…"
"Hey!" Grace put a hand up to stop his rant and grinned teasingly. "No chick flick moments."
Dean grinned fondly at her in return and ruffled her hair. "Brat."
"Jerk," she retorted instantly, pressing a swift kiss to his cheek before beginning to look around.
"What the…"
She mouthed the words out loud as she stared through wide eyes, completely taken aback by the scene before her.
Two wooden crosses had been embedded in the centre of their gravesite but Grace's shocked gaze swept swiftly over them. Rapidly spinning around, her nose started to sting as she inhaled the faint wisps of smoke which steadily rose up from the ground.
But that was not the focus of her attention and Grace's mouth parted as she took it in.
A perfect black circle surrounded them. The grass, the trees, every livin' thing within the circumference was now nothing but dead and charcoal.
"I don't know Gracie but I'm guessing this is somethin' all kinds of crazy," Dean stated calmly but Grace knew him well enough by now to tell that this was racking him up pretty hard.
It was up to her now to remain optimistic and take charge. And her first priority was distracting him from his emotional state.
"Just our average jam then," she uttered, managing a small grin. "Must be Friday." She scanned the rest of the area and after finding a deserted road off to the right, her decision was made. "Come on, let's go," she gently ordered while grabbing her brother's arm. "I don't know about you but I am famished and thirsty as hell."
It was a long trek down the road and the heat from the sun blared onto Grace's shoulders as she walked by her brother's side. Feelin' its unforgivingly piercing burn, she shrugged off the ripped denim jacket and tied it loosely round her waist.
They walked in silence; her brother had never been one for small talk but Grace had never once complained so she wouldn't now. Licking her cracked lips, she sent a swift side glance towards him, only to see his gaze fixed determinedly on the road ahead.
She scratched her arm absentmindedly before looking away, forcing her mind back to the situation at hand. It was like a mantra in her head… one foot in front of the other… where every step needed maximum effort and she tried so damn hard to ignore the uncontrollable trembling in her knees.
All it took was a stray rock in the middle of the road to make her stumble and a hand quickly grasped her arm to steady her.
Dazed, she peered up at her brother's concerned face.
"You alright?" he enquired softly.
Grace didn't have to answer and he didn't need her too. Leaning into him slightly, she grumbled, "Please just tell me we are close."
Dean glanced around and his lips tilted into a weary smile. "Well, this may just be your lucky day, Gracie."
Grace raised a questioning brow and followed his gaze. A small exhale of relief passed her parted lips.
"Thank God," she whispered. Carefully shrugging herself off her brother, she straightened her shoulders and stared towards the small building in the distance.
With somethin' for them now to focus on, the two siblings resumed their endless walk at a relatively faster pace. The prospect of something actually goin' their way for a change was proving to be the only thing on their minds.
"Well, would you look at that," Dean muttered, his face half shocked and half amused when they finally came into range.
Grace grinned in response. She scanned the shabby gas station and her fingers twitched in anticipation as a plan formed inside her head.
There was a truck attached to a moving van parked just outside… it wouldn't be too hard to hijack the rusty piece of scrap metal and disconnect it from the larger vehicle. Five minutes tops and they could be out of here…
A sudden shattering of glass burst through her ears and immediately on high alert, Grace snapped her head to the right, searching instantly for a threat.
But the tenseness in her body rapidly subsided at the sight of her brother reaching through a now broken window, to pull the door to the gas station open. With a sharp jerk of his head, he gestured for her to follow and she obediently trailed behind.
Her steps were silent as she proceeded to make her way down a small aisle, her gaze sweeping over the various items in distaste before zeroing in on a small glass fridge. She forced the door open and after grabbing two bottles of chilled water, she threw one towards Dean who caught it without looking.
"Sweet," he appraised and Grace nodded in agreement while frantically unscrewing the cap.
As soon as the liquid touched her lips, she let out a low moan. How long had it been since she had last tasted water?
Long enough for her to have almost forgotten what the definition of taste even was.
Grace refused to follow through with that thought and gulped down the entirety of the bottle in seconds before pouring any remaining droplets onto her hand. She placed her damp palm on the back of her neck and closed her eyes.
"Grace?"
Turning towards her brother, she swiftly approached him with her eyebrows raised. "What is it?"
"Lift up your sleeve."
Grace hesitated at her brother's request. How the hell did he know? She stared up at him feigning confusion but harsh eyes pierced hers.
"Don't pull that innocent crap on me."
Grace sighed. Since Dean had pulled her out of the ground, her upper arm had been burning in a constant state of agony.
Until now, she had been reluctant to find out why but her brother remained adamant. So, after a moment's hesitation, she clutched the loose cuff of her shirt and dragged up the left sleeve.
Dean closed his eyes briefly and sighed. "What the hell is going on?" he muttered.
"What does it look like?" Grace asked tentatively. In response, Dean uncovered his right arm, causing her to instantly still. She gazed unseeingly upon the bright, burned lump of red flesh which protruded up from her brother's skin.
Anyone who wasn't a part of their circle could easily look upon the inflammation and immediately understand that this was no ordinary injury…
After all, burn marks didn't usually take the form of a human handprint.
This was way beyond their line of work.
Pushing away the disturbing thoughts of what evil entity could possibly be behind this, Grace snapped into action.
"Let's just get what we need and get to Bobby's," she commanded, her voice unnaturally steady despite the uneasiness she felt. "If anyone knows what crap we are up against this time, it's him."
Dean nodded in agreement and turned away to grab a plastic bag. While he shoved it with all the food he could carry, Grace moved towards the till and opened it without hesitation. With the unattended cash now safely pocketed, her eyes began to stray... and her stomach turned.
In a daze she moved forwards, her arms slowly extending. With trembling hands, she picked up the paper and her eyes fixed firmly on the date.
"That's not possible," she breathed.
September. It was September.
It had been roughly May when they had last seen Sammy. It had been May when she and Dean had…
Grace squeezed her eyes shut, forcing away the memories which threatened to creep up into the forefront of her mind and engulf her with their shared torment.
They had been gone four months.
Fate had a twisted sense of humour.
A small rustling caught Grace's attention and she reluctantly turned to see her brother pluck a magazine off the shelf. Catching a quick glimpse of the cover, her eyebrow arched.
"Seriously Dean?" she reprimanded, unable to hold back her humoured disbelief. "Not even an hour back alive and bam, porn magazine in the bag."
"Hey, a guy has needs," Dean defended. Grace gave him a pointed look to which he just smirked at and she shook her head, inwardly shuddering.
"You disturb me, you know that?"
No sister ever wanted to think about her big brother's needs.
A faint noise to her right thankfully cut Grace's thoughts short but that same gratitude soon turned into vigilance.
Because when she turned her body in that same direction, there was nothing in sight besides the closed door.
That could only mean one thing.
Someone, or something, was outside.
Out of instinct, Grace reached towards the handle but fingers closed around her wrist. She glanced up to see Dean subtly shake his head. All it took was one stern look from him and she retreated back, knowing it was best not to argue.
With a sharp twist of the handle, Grace watched her brother leave the shop and she crouched down, out of sight, listening carefully.
The attack came out of nowhere. Dean's resounding groans caused her to spur into action.
Her hand closed around a piece of sharp glass on the floor, then leaping fast to her feet, she flung the shop door wide open.
Her eyes widened for a second at the perplexing scene.
Seein' her brother pinned up against the wall by a pretty woman was not somethin' Grace typically came across every day. Usually, she would have found it quite amusing to watch but appearances were always deceiving.
Grace swiftly sprang into action.
"Hey!" she yelled and the woman rapidly whipped around. Grace immediately balked at the shining golden eyes before she quickly recovered, her face hardening into something a lot more threatening. "No one hurts my brother but me, are we clear?"
She didn't give the woman a chance to respond before she shot out her fist, her knuckles striking her square in the face.
She heard the faint sharp snap of bone and using the moment of distraction, Dean twisted himself out of the woman's limp grip and proceeded to brutally tackle her to the floor.
He pressed his hand down hard on the woman's neck and by the sound of the subsequent gasps, Grace knew that her brother had applied just enough pressure to make this strange creature feel dizzy… but not enough for it to fall unconscious.
Dean stretched out his other hand and knowing what he was after, Grace threw him the glass shard. His fingers closed fast around it and he pressed the sharpest edge to the woman's neck.
"Who the hell are you!" he barked. "Who sent you?"
"Are you crazy!" the woman spluttered. Gold eyes faded back to brown as she desperately argued, "You were after us!"
"Us?" Grace questioned, scanning their surroundings.
Seeing no other being in the vicinity apart from the three of them, Dean scoffed. "That's likely; you supes will do anything to talk your way out of things." He pressed the shard deep into her flesh, drawing out rapid specks of blood and the woman cried out in agony.
"Please! Don't hurt my mom!"
Grace whipped around on her heel and her entire body froze at the newcomer.
She couldn't be more than five. Her auburn hair parted down the sides of her round face in waves, as she watched the scene play out in front of her with fear… but there was something inside those wide sea-blue eyes which caused Grace to falter.
Something she had not known for a long time.
Innocence.
And now Grace knew the outcome of this fight. Because no matter how hard she would try to convince herself that this was the right thing to do, she could never harm a child.
As much as she hated to admit it, the kid did not deserve to become an orphan like they were.
Sighing tiredly, she whispered, "Dean, let her go."
Dean gawked at her and when she said nothing else, his surprised gaze finally flickered over to the child. He closed his eyes briefly and groaned.
"You're lucky I'm in an okay mood today," he stated in irritation. Then he leapt to his feet and returned to the gas station without a second glance back.
Grace leaned back against the side of the van, watching the woman's perplexed expression with a tight smile.
"I wouldn't even question it," she uttered when the woman began to open her mouth. "Just be glad you are still alive for your little girl. We usually kill supernaturals like you on the spot but fortunately, you've caught us on an off day."
The woman cautiously got to her feet and through narrowed eyes, she studied Grace warily. "Don't expect me to thank you."
Grace raised both brows unconcerned, though she had to admit, she was slightly impressed at the nerve this person showed. Not many supes were bold enough to try that with a hunter, especially if that very hunter was a Winchester. "I wasn't expecting one."
The woman stared Grace down. Still on edge, she slowly nodded yet she never once turned her back on the hunter when she stormed towards the little girl who was now slyly edging herself closer. "I told you to stay in the car!" she berated.
"I know mom but I don't think she's scary, she just cares for her family, like we do."
Grace heard the little girl's shy reply and her lips twitched. Innocent and sweet. Definitely a combination she had not seen in years.
"Grace!" her brother shouted. "Get in here! We have a problem!"
Recognising his urgently gruff tone, Grace shot round, startling both the mother and child when she approached them fast. "The both of you need to get in the gas station now."
"If you think we are going to do anything you say," the woman began but Grace growled out her frustration.
She neither had the time nor the patience for this.
"Look, my brother never uses that tone on me unless somethin' real bad is about to go down. I know we didn't get off to the greatest start but you're just gonna have to trust me when I say we're in danger."
"I trust her mom," the little girl responded instantly and Grace was astounded at the wide smile sent in her direction. The young girl then insistently tugged on her mother's arm, causing her to let out a defeated sigh.
"Fine."
The moment the words of acceptance had left the woman's mouth, Grace turned tail and pelted back into the gas station.
Smokey blue eyes fell on the crackling sounds from the TV… the distorted noises from the radio…
She swiftly faced her brother who was sprinkling salt across one of the window panes.
"Give me!" she demanded. He tossed her one from the shelf and she rapidly followed suit.
"What are you-" the woman questioned but she was suddenly cut off when a high-pitched screech pierced their ears.
The room was instantly filled with agonised yells. The four of them covered their ears to block out the noise.
The windows began to crack and recognising that the sound was rapidly increasing in pitch, Grace leaped forwards.
She grabbed the young girl, dragged her to the floor and covered her smaller form just as the windows exploded.
Grace flinched as stray shards of glass sliced her skin but she never once moved, resolute in keeping the little girl covered.
Then the sound stopped… and there was silence.
Groaning, Grace pulled the girl to her feet but when she made a move to let go, the kid clutched her hand tight.
"Did you hear that?" she whispered and Grace knelt down in confusion.
"Hear what?"
"That voice, it said your names… Grace and Dean."
Grace's face paled but she squeezed the girl's hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, it's all gone now." Straightening up, she turned to her brother. "We need to leave," she demanded. "As in now."
"Couldn't agree more," Dean grumbled. He scanned his sister for any serious damage before his eyes drifted over towards the two strangers. "What the hell do we do with them?"
Grace turned to see the woman enveloping the little girl in her arms.
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?"
"Mom, I'm fine, Grace protected me."
The woman looked over the little girl's shoulder and her dark eyes met Grace's. "Thank you," she said begrudgingly. "I don't know what that was but I know somehow you protected us."
Grace and Dean glanced at each other before shrugging simultaneously. "It's kinda our thing."
"We did get off to a bad start," the woman admitted. Then she hesitantly stepped forward. "I'm Hayley." She then looked down towards the kid and bit her lip. She seemed to be fighting an inward battle before reluctantly adding, "This is my daughter Hope."
"I'm Dean, this is Grace," Dean replied and to his left, Grace nodded once. Stepping towards his sister, he then lowered his voice and muttered, "I'm gonna call Sam and Bobby. We need to figure out what monster was powerful enough to do this."
Grace nodded in response and she watched him leave the station. A short silence followed while she debated what to say. She was never good the enlightenment side, that part was usually Sammy's forte.
"I'm sure you want an explanation," she began.
"One wouldn't go amiss," Hayley drawled and deciding that she would never be able to echo Sam's tender-filled emotions without looking like some alarmingly badly-drawn cartoon, Grace instantly cut to the chase.
"My brother and I are Winchesters."
Hayley froze and Grace twitched her lips grimly when the familiar realisation flitted over her face. All things considered she wasn't surprised by the reaction. Hayley was obviously a supernatural being and the name Winchester held quite a bit of power over her paranormal community.
"Long story short, my brother and I have been dead for four months and you've just caught us an hour after our resurrection." Grace was quick to placate. "We don't know why in goddam's name we're alive right now - my brother and I still need to figure that part out but in the meantime, you're probably gonna have to come along for the ride because that thing which attacked us all, it will most likely come back."
Hayley paused, considering Grace's words while Hope watched the conversation with curious eyes. Finally, she let out a low exhale. "Well, this certainly wasn't how I was expecting today to go."
Grace snorted. "Tell me about it." Her curious eyes carefully scrutinised Hayley from top to bottom. "So, what kind of supe are you?" she wondered. "I have seen demons with yellow eyes but yours flashed golden."
"Demons?" Hayley questioned and Grace sighed.
"You know what, let's talk about it on the way."
They had a long conversation ahead of them and Hayley, realising that, nodded in acceptance.
"So are we coming with you?"
Grace glimpsed Hope's wide eyes which were filled with excitement and couldn't help but grin. "Yeah, Hope. You are."
"Well technically you are since it is my truck parked outside."
Grace laughed at Hayley's statement and Hope swung her mom's hand back and forth with a beam.
The female Winchester watched the mother and daughter bonding moment with a slightly aching heart.
Would her life have ever been as pure as Hayley and Hope's if Azazel had never come to Sammy's bedroom that night? What would her life have been like, if her mom had never been killed?
Definitely safer.
Maybe it wouldn't have been the perfect apple pie life she had always imagined but it would have been pretty damn close. And while Grace still desperately longed for that kind of life, it had always remained one of those simple fantasies.
And she was smart enough to know her own reality.
A happy ending just wasn't in the cards for her… she doubted it ever would be.
With a heavy heart, Grace left the gas station and approached her brother who instantly felt her presence.
"Sammy's number is disconnected," he stated in a hard tone and her forehead creased.
"Did you call Bobby?"
"Yep. The man hung up."
Grace could see the stressful flare of irritation in his eyes and she grudgingly muttered, "Can't blame him. It's more likely to be some fanatic shifter than this Lazarus crap going on."
Bobby had always been paranoid. All hunters were. Because the easiest way for a supernatural creature to win a fight was if they targeted the weakest part of a hunter.
The heart. The bonds of family. Hit 'em where it hurt the most.
Grace leaned against Dean who wrapped his arm around her, the two of them embracing in a rare moment of comfort.
"So, we're taking them with us."
Dean eventually broke the comfortable silence and Grace knew that it wasn't a question.
In response, she rested her head against his shoulder and tried to block out the images which were once more crawling out of the darkness… seeping up through the cracks…
For the span of four months, she had undergone unbearable agony in Hell. She had withstood terrible and unspeakable things. Things which neither of her brothers could ever know about.
If they discovered even an inkling of the truth, it would break them.
The more Grace allowed herself to think, the more she realised she was barely hanging on.
And as the two siblings waited for Hayley and Hope, deep down the dark-haired Winchester knew that these two strangers were going to be in this for the long haul.
No matter what messy and complicated futures awaited them.