Every time they went on a hunt, Sam worried more and more. Dean was taking every risk he could, killing more, and sparing no one, even when he had the chance. When he killed, he was overzealous about it, emptying a ton of bullets into a single target and impaling monsters until they were nearly chopped in half. The Mark was overtaking him again, and Sam and Cas knew it. Rowena and Charlie were hard at work finding a solution, but progress was slow at best. The only place he ever let his guard down was in the bunker, where he knew the only person Dean could hurt was him.

He'd found him roaming the halls at night, and it was unnerving. Sam ducked into the shadows waiting for his brother to pass. Usually he was just on his way to the kitchen, but tonight was different. Dean stopped at Grace's door, pushing it open and leaving it slightly ajar as he sat down next to her.

"Hey, Gracie. You probably can't hear me, which is also probably for the best, but I feel… I feel like I'm losing control. If I lock myself in here with you, I know I can't hurt you." He reached out for her, almost as if he was testing the limits of the complex magic Cas had worked. His hand instantly bounced off. The spell thought it was enough. The evil had crept up on him, but the spell clearly thought he could be dangerous. Dean didn't react, Sam assuming he'd done this before and gotten the same result. "I know you're fighting hard, but I need you to wake up. I hope you're dreaming about… I want you to know what kept me sane for a while. I had this picture in my head, what things would be like if this wasn't our lives, if we could be normal people for once. A big house, with a lot of plants. A big yard for the kids, and for the dogs. A couple of labs, one yellow and one chocolate, that you'd pick matching names for. You'd have a library that's a lot nicer than the one in the bunker. We'd live near Sam and Jess, and we'd do all the family holidays together. The worst monsters we'd see would be on Halloween. We'd go on vacation and ditch the kids with Sam every year. We'd never have to worry about a thing. Think about that. That's what I'd want to give you if… if we had different lives. Maybe once we retire, once all of this is over. I know we'll never really get to retire, but one day, when we can… I want it for you. For both of us. Just… I need you."

"Don't freak out." Grace's voice startled them both, Dean nearly falling off the bed. A ghostly apparition had appeared, sitting at the end of the bed. It was Grace, but it wasn't. She was nearly transparent, but it was the same Grace. "I'm well enough to project myself. It's a spell I was working on before… before everything."

"Gracie, I… how long are you going to be like this?"

She looked down at her body, shrugging. "At this rate, I'd estimate another week." Sam strained to hear her. "Cas' powers are weak, a lot weaker than they used to be. He needs to find the rest of his grace soon. But he's done so much to help me, and he hardly knows me. What's wrong? You have that look on your face like something's wrong."

"I don't know if I'm going to last another week. I can feel the Mark… I'm losing control. I know Sam can see it too. I'm fighting it, but I'm losing. I don't want to tell Sam, but I can feel it. I know he knows. But I don't want him to think we're running out of time. He's already running himself ragged to get the Book of the Damned decoded and help Cas and take over for you running cases and helping people research."

Grace's ghostly figure nodded, saying, "I know this is kind of off-topic, but I promise I have a point. That dream you told me about, with the house and the yard and the dogs, was that real? Is that what you want?"

He nodded, squeezing her hand. The ghostly Grace smiled as if she could feel it. "Hunters don't get old. We die in this job. Even if we retire, things come out of the woodwork and we have to take care of them. It's very rare we see old age. Me and Sammy, we're lightning rods for these kinds of things. Demons, fallen angels, whatever. It would slow down if we got out of this life, but we'd always be watching our backs. One day, though, I'd like that. A normal life, as normal as I can get. Preferably with you. If you stay, you're always going to be in danger, but I'll do anything to keep you safe. What's your point?"

"I'm staying. I've always known this life was, well, it doesn't end well for most hunters. I've known about the family business since I was about eight. I knew what I was getting into then, and I know it now. If being able to spend my life with you means I spend my life fighting demons, I'll take the demons. We'll kick their asses."

"That's my girl," Dean smiled.

"Anyway, the point is that if that's still what you think about, if you can still picture that life, you're not all bad. The Mark hasn't won until the only thing you see in front of you is death and destruction with no hope of getting out." Dean nodded to himself, Grace looking at the door and making direct eye contact with Sam. He could feel that she saw him, but she said nothing. "You're going to be alright, Dean," she promised, still looking Sam dead in the eye. "You just have to hold on a little while longer. We're all going to find a way to fix this. Together. And then maybe we can get a dog for the bunker."

"Thank you. I wish… Gracie, I wish you were here right now. Actually, no, like this I know I can't hurt you."

"Give it a week. We'll sort this out together. Just remember, I can hear you, even if I can't always talk like this. You can stay, if it makes you feel better. Like you said, you can't hurt me."

Sam stepped away from the door, leaving them to talk. He'd known that Dean was losing control, but he didn't realize how aware of it he was. Or how afraid. At least he had Grace, even if she was like this. He always had Grace. They both did.

Back in high school, Sam would tell her about how he wanted to go to college, to pick a state far away and get out of Kansas for good. Move across the country, where his father couldn't control him, where Dean could visit when he wanted, but where he could finally be on his own and live his own life. The three of them had been inseparable, but as they started their senior year and college applications rolled around, Sam saw less of Grace.

It was nearing Thanksgiving break when he realized that she was at their house more often, even though they'd all been busy. He'd noticed it before, but he saw it clearly now: Event time she came over, even if it was to study with him and a few of their friends, she would say hi to Dean first. She'd ask about him if he wasn't there. He would drive her home all of the time, and he'd offer to pick her up whenever she and Sam were going to study together. He disappeared on Saturday afternoons when she was mysteriously busy. By the time she showed up with Christmas presents for them both, he was sure something was up.

When Dean finally let him in on the secret, he was happy for both of them. Dean hadn't smiled with anyone else as much as he did with Grace. He cleaned the house more, he'd been learning how to cook, and he'd taken over some of the heat from his father, since John was adamant that he not bring Grace any further into the hunting life than he already had. Sam wasn't the only target of his father's wrath. For so long Dean had followed his father's every command out of fear, but Grace made him question more.

Sam was glad to have her back. She was his oldest friend, the one who had always insisted that there was a way to make the impossible real. She brightened up the bunker, but she also brightened up his brother. Sure, Dean was still plagued with crippling self-doubt and the whole range of issues that came with being trapped in Hell, watching most of the people they cared about die, and the trauma of hunting monsters but not being able to save everyone. But Grace made it a little better, and for that, he was grateful.