Just as Grace and Deacon were about to step into the elevator, a sharp pain lanced through her midsection, leaving her breathless. She winced, leaning against the wall for support.

"You okay?" Deacon asked.

Avoiding his gaze, Grace said softly, "I-I haven't…eaten in almost…four days."

"Why?"

Grace didn't respond right away, and when she did, she spoke in a whisper, "I couldn't hurt anyone," she paused, hesitating, "I can't even stand the sight of blood."

Tears came to her eyes and she started to cry silently, "I'm pathetic," she said, still whispering.

"No, you're not," Deacon said, slipping an arm around her shoulders.

Her vision blurred with tears, Grace looked up at him.

In the kitchen, Grace sat across from Deacon. She still wouldn't look him in the eye as she sipped blood from a cup, and he could sense her shame. But he just had to ask…

"Why didn't you tell me before?"

Grace took a deep breath before she answered. "I was…Afraid…" she spoke slowly.

"Afraid?" Deacon repeated, confused by her response.

"Afraid that you'd think I was stupid and that-" her voice dropped to a whisper, "-That you wouldn't like me any more."

He stared at her, for a moment not sure he'd heard her right. That was it? Her reason seemed so absolutely silly that he laughed. Her face flushed with embarrassment, and her hazel eyes alone showed how much his reaction stung. Grace turned, starting to stand, and he suddenly realized how much he'd just hurt her.

Reaching out, he grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Hey, I'm sorry," he said. The first time he'd apologized to anyone.

Grace turned back to him, not really having a choice, and sat back down. She was silent, gazing at him studyingly.

He released her and leaned back in his chair. "I didn't mean to hurt your feelings," Deacon said.

"But you think I'm stupid?" Grace asked quietly.

"No," he said, "I don't."

She managed a faint smile. "Really?" she pressed, wanting reassurance.

"I'm not going to say it again," Deacon said teasingly, "I don't think you're stupid." He almost smiled.

"You just did," Grace said with a small giggle.

How forgiving she was when she was in love. Love….It was almost a scary thought. Her parents had always told her she was too young to know what love was. But tomorrow she was going to be seventeen. Was she still too young? She didn't care if anyone told her now that she was too young. If only she didn't have this terrible dreading sense that things wouldn't last…

It was only evening when Grace awoke the next night. She didn't know what had woke her so early, but at any rate, she couldn't get back to sleep. Sitting up, she looked around the room. She reached for her denim jacket and as she pulled it on, she tried to figure out what seemed off to her. When she stepped out into the hall, it clicked. Dead silence. She wasn't used to it.

The sun was still up even. But when Grace searched around, she couldn't find anyone. Not Deacon, or Mercury, or Quinn even. She immediately began to worry. Where would everyone be before sun down? Eventually, she ran into a security guard and asked at once;

"Where is everyone?"

"They went out a little earlier, I thought you knew Miss," he replied politely.

Grace blinked. Out? Before sundown? Were they crazy, it was suicide! And he hadn't told her? Hadn't he though she would worry? Like she was…Thoughts chased each other around in her head, and her emotions exploded. First, worried, then angry…and confused. She only knew time had passed when the shutters rose, revealing the night. And that's when they returned.

A million questions demanded to be answered while Grace watched the elevator doors slide open with a soft ping. But they all seemed to die when she saw the young black woman forced out of the elevator, followed closely by Deacon, Mercury, and Quinn. Grace suddenly felt cold and numb. Oh god no! This was how her vision started! She was speechless for a moment, unable to say a word.

Suddenly finding her voice, she managed to call out, "Deacon!"

As mercury and Quinn continued on with their 'hostage', Deacon came over to her, confused by the worried expression on her face. It seemed to him as though she'd always been worried the past two days.

"Now what's wrong?" he asked, sounding tired of asking it so often now.

"Deacon," Grace repeated, "What's going on?"

And he told her how he'd found Blade's base, and kidnapped the woman, Karen, to use her as bait to lure the Daywalker.

"Blade will come," Deacon said, "He'd never think it was a trap."

"But why would you want him here?" Grace asked.

"Blade's the key. I need his blood to summon La Magra," he replied.

Her mind raced, "But what if things don't go as you want? What if…" she trailed off.

He kissed her forehead, "Stop worrying. I won't let anything happen to you," Deacon said, "How many times do I have to tell you?"

Then he turned, and walked off down the hall.

Grace stared after him. "But it's not me I'm worried about, Deacon." She whispered, her voice emotionless, yet at the same time filled with pain.