A week later, Grace left her job and moved in with the boys. She packed up her entire life, hauling books over in boxes, throwing her clothes in her car, and driving the three hours from her house to the bunker. Before anyone could ask questions, she had completely disappeared from her old life. She'd been preparing for this for years, just in case it ever happened. Or in case she needed to go hunting, to get away as fast as she could. Like John Winchester had always told her, once you were in the life, it was next to impossible to get out of it. You always had to be ready, even if you thought you were safe.

The Men of Letters had left her plenty of rooms to choose from. As she unpacked in her new bedroom, Dean carried her books in from the car, setting them up in a room off of the main library. She would be doing a lot of their research, so it only made sense that she would have her own office. Sam helped him put together a bunch of bookshelves and moved a desk in, getting everything set up.

Grace had put herself in charge of their research. She wanted to go through every book in the library, compiling a database the boys could use any time they needed help on a hunt. In the process, she also wanted to become the resident expert on all things supernatural, in case the boys had questions and didn't have time to do their own research. It would take years, but eventually she wanted them to be able to call her with even the trickiest problem and have an answer handy in seconds.

While she was unpacking, Sam went to go make dinner, promising that they would have a real meal for the first time in a while. Most of the time everyone in the bunker operated on their own schedules, but tonight was a special night, so they would be eating together. Dean had taken it upon himself to start unboxing all of the books and files she'd amassed over the years, setting up her office for her and blaring music while he worked.

"I know AC/DC is a good band, but you've played that song four times. That is their best album, though, so I can't really fault you," Grace laughed, appearing in the doorway of her soon-to-be office. Dean wasn't paying attention, instead poring over a stack of old photos he'd found mixed in with her collection of books on monsters. "Dean?"

"Didn't notice I had it on loop." He had his feet up on the desk, casually flipping through photos. "This was from prom. Your mom always hated me, but she was nice that night. This one's from your graduation. And this one's from that fishing trip Dad took us on that was actually a real fishing trip and not a mission to find the Loch Ness monster or anything. Gracie, you kept all of these?"

Grace came to stand next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "Of course I did. Look, that's Sam's birthday. And that's from Valentine's Day, when you tried making us dinner and we both ended up with food poisoning."

"To be fair I wasn't taught to cook by a world-class chef or anything. I still hadn't discovered the Food Network yet. I've got to make you dinner now, it'll be a whole lot better."

"I hope so. Do you need a hand in here?"

Several hours later, Grace was still hard at work. The boys had long since gone to bed, but after dinner, she'd managed to set up her bathroom, hang up all of her clothes, and make a lot of progress on the office. Dean had been a lot of help, but his indexing system made no sense. So she rearranged everything, wanting to finish as much as she could so she could explore the bunker a little more in the morning.

It was past midnight when there was a knock on the door, Dean stepping in and handing her a book on Slavic folklore. "Found this in one of the kitchen boxes. I couldn't sleep, so I thought I'd start unpacking those."

"Can I talk to you?" Grace asked, setting the book on a shelf and sitting down on her desk.

He smirked, giving her a familiar look. "And by talk, do you mean -"

"Dean."

"Sorry. What's up?" He sat down on a crate of books, looking up at the angelic glow of the lights that surrounded her.

"You know I missed you. It's weird… after all these years of wondering where you went, of thinking you were dead, it's weird being here, it's weird being able to see you again. I feel like we've missed so much, like we're not the same people we left behind, but you're still hunting, you're still you. It's just weird. I'm honestly surprised... I thought I'd never see you again."

Dean wound an arm around her shoulders, just like he had countless times before. Old habits die hard. He held his breath for a second, breathing a quiet sigh of relief as she laid her head on his shoulder. "I know. I thought about what I'd say to you when I saw you again and, well, as time went on, I had no idea. Sam didn't tell me you lived near the cemetery until we were already there. I thought I was going to throw up on your doorstep. But… I wish we could just go back to the way things were, but, well, do you want to try?"

"We hardly know each other any more, Dean. It's been over ten years since I've seen you. The girl you left behind, she had a whole life that you missed. And you had a whole life without her too."

"I know. I met a lot of people. I fell in love a couple of times, I'll admit it. There was this one woman, though, I still can't get her out of my head," he sighed. "It was ages ago, but she made me laugh. I'd come home from a hunt, dead tired, and she'd be there, waiting on my front porch. You'll never understand how much it made me smile to see her again. Dad would be pissed, but he'd never admit it, not in front of her, anyway. Hell, she came with us sometimes, and she was good. She really understood this, this life. A lot of people don't. A lot of people don't realize that you never quit it. You can try, but once you step into it, you're marked for good. Well, she understood that, but I had to leave. I had to break her heart, and to this day I'm sorry. She went off to a big, fancy school and got a couple of big, fancy degrees, but she never forgot about me." Dean met her eye again as he said, "Now I want to try to make it up to her. I can't, but if she'll let me try, I'll do my best to be that boy she loved so much. Gracie, I know it's been a long time, way too long. So we can start from the beginning, if you want to."

"The very beginning?" Grace asked, coming to sit next to him as she pulled over another crate of books. She leaned in and kissed him gently, saying, "We don't have to start at the very beginning, but we can take things slow, get to know the people we've become."

Dean smiled, promising her that, "I'll make dinner tomorrow. Real dinner date, something nice. That'll be the new beginning. What do you think?"

"Sounds good. I'll have to unpack my closet and find something nice to wear."