"Hey, how many burgers do you want?"
"My mother and Lucifer are trapped in another dimension and you're asking how many burgers I want?" Dean closed the fridge, another beer in hand. "Two, if you've got enough. With cheese. And bacon. Wait, we might be out of bacon."
Grace set down the package of hamburger buns she'd picked up, coming to stand next to him. "We're going to get her back." She put an arm around him, both of them leaning on the steel prep counter. "She's smart. She's got to be alive in there. She's going to be okay. We know we have allies over there. If she met up with Bobby, we know she's with good people." Looking at the door, Dean took a sip of his drink as he listened. "You might want to slow down. The beer budget is getting a bit out of hand."
"Not like we're paying for it."
"Dean, we both know that's not what I mean. Here, help me make dinner," she offered. "You can grill Jack his first cheeseburger."
As the two of them started working on dinner, Dean set his drink down, leaving it alone as they talked. Grace took that as a good sign. For a man so afraid of turning into his father, he'd picked up John's drinking habits and never quite put them down. "Gracie," he broke the silence after a little while, thinking aloud. "How do you feel about Jack?"
"He's a good kid, or he's trying to be. I think you're tough on him because he got your mom trapped over there. He wants you to like him."
"Hmm. How do you feel about… about having kids in general? I mean, since we're eventually going to get married and all, I figured I'd ask." He was suddenly laser-focused on chopping up lettuce, not daring to look her in the eye.
"It would be nice, when we've got a place that isn't a bunker. I'm not raising kids down here. And I'm not raising them to be hunters," she decided. "They can learn when they're old enough, so they know what's out there and how to protect themselves. You've said it before, trouble seems to find us and all of the people we care about. But no sooner than they need to know. I want them to be like you, but I wouldn't want them to grow up like you did."
Dean answered on instinct. "No you don't."
Grace set a stack of plates on the counter, walking over to wrap her arms around his waist, gently taking the knife from him and setting it down on the counter. "You're turning that lettuce into croutons there. And sure I do. You're brave, and you're strong, and you fight for what you think is right even when the rest of the world is against you. You're a good man, Dean, and you'd be a good dad. Maybe Lucifer, the Apocalypse World, evil Michael, maybe this is it. We get through this, and we can retire. Have a life."
He turned to face her, pulling her into his arms. "When we get Mom back - if she's still alive - as soon as we get Mom back, let's get married."
"We're in the middle of an interdementional war. It makes absolutely no difference if we get -"
"It does to me." He cut her off, explaining that, "I've wanted to marry you for so long. I know it really doesn't change anything, especially since I'm legally dead, according to the government. It's… it's the commitment thing. I've never wanted to - I mean, I'm not gonna lie, I've thought about marrying someone else, but it never stuck. The idea just didn't sit right in my head. But you - do you remember our song?"
"Our song?"
"I was made for lovin' you, baby," he started to sing.
"You were made for lovin' me," Grace answered, giving him a kiss. "Of course I remember, I just wanted to hear you say it. It was on in the car, on our way home from our first real date. And prom night. And pretty often ever since. I think you had it on loop when I moved in and you were trying to put my office together for me."
"And that's back before we could control what was on the radio," Dean smiled. "Okay, not the office part, but everything else."
"Mhm. We're going to get your mom back, Dean. We're going to lock Lucifer and Michael in that weird apocalyptic world or dimension or whatever it is, and we're going to get married. We'll have our house and the dogs and kids and I'll introduce Sam to my friend Gen. They'd get along famously. And we'll be free. Free from all of this. For good."
Sam cleared his throat in the doorway. "C'mon, man, how long have you been here?" Dean asked, reaching for his drink.
"Sorry, I just wanted to know how long dinner was going to be. Jack and Cas took over the foosball table, so I was going to offer to help, but it looks like you've got things, ah, handled here."
The first thing he always noticed about the Apocalypse World was how everything was covered in ash. Even inside the bunker. Michael flexed his fingers, checking to be sure he'd gotten through alright. Of course he had. With the power of an archangel coursing through his veins, there was no way anything could stop him. Not the pesky warding on this place, not anything. There was only one thing that stood between him and finally killing Lucifer, and it was asleep on the sofa in front of him.
Grace had been up late doing research, like always. She'd been on the phone with a hunter in California who needed her to vouch for her security clearance, standard for their line of work. She fell asleep early, still surrounded by books, her laptop balanced precariously on the table in front of her. She had planned on going back to Dean's room, but he wasn't there. How could he have been?
She looked so peaceful, he almost felt bad. He had loved her once - well, his vessel had. He could still hear the tiny voice screaming in the back of his mind, pleading with him not to hurt her. But he had to. This pathetic human, this witch, was the only one who still dared to oppose him, to keep him from Lucifer. He'd had enough. The voice he'd locked away, the pitiful man, was now howling in pain, begging him to leave her alone.
Michael raised the archangel blade he'd kept at his side for so long, the silver gleaming in the low light of the bunker. Her eyes flickered open, Grace instantly knowing someone was standing above her. Still halfway asleep, she looked up, locking eyes with him. "Dean?" The last thing he saw was his eyes flick to an electric blue, the arc of the angel blade striking her half a second later. The screaming, nagging voice in the back of his mind went silent as her golden soul floated towards Heaven. Two birds with one stone.
Grace stopped in her tracks, turning to head into the lounge. DeanCave, she reminded herself. She'd just passed by it when she heard a voice, someone calling out in the darkness. The TV was still on, a rerun of some old western movie playing in the background as she shook Dean's shoulder, trying to get him to wake up. "Grace? Oh, god, Grace, you're okay."
"Yeah?" She sat down on the sofa next to him as he stretched. "I was in the library. What were you dreaming about?"
"Michael," he answered noncommittally.
"Hmm," Grace nodded, knowing that it couldn't have been something good. "Why don't we go sleep in an actual bed? I can wipe your dreams again."
Dean got up, turning the TV off and taking her hand as they headed for his room. "He had to kill you," he told her, not making eye contact as they walked. "You were the last thing between him and Lucifer. I was me, but I wasn't me. I could hear me, the real me, screaming in the back of his head, trying to get him to stop. But I was also him, with the angel blade."
Grace turned to him as they closed the door behind themselves. "I know you're worried about him, but you're not Michael. You're you. You're you, and you're good, and I know you wouldn't hurt me."
"I love you, Gracie."
"I love you too." Crawling into bed next to him felt like the most natural thing in the world. When there were angels, demons, and other dimensions, there were very few sure things in life, but this was one of them, and had been since the first night they'd shared a bed. Sam caught on quickly, but Dean still made an effort to offer to sleep on the couch whenever the three of them split a hotel room. At least he did until Sam told him to drop the act and that he really didn't care at all. Grace gave him a kiss, tapping his forehead and whispering the same few words of Latin she used every night they were together without fail. Dean draped his arm over her, the two of them settling in for the night.
Grace treated Jack like she would've treated her own son. They bonded pretty fast after she'd told him about being possessed, about how the demon that had controlled her was best friends with Lucifer. She told him about his dad, about their dealings with him before, but she also told him about what she remembered from Miczael. he could tell that she knew what it was like to not fully understand or be in control of your powers, and be afraid of what that would mean. And he could tell that she was trying to get Dean to treat him like a real member of the family they had cobbled together. She would take the time to explain things to him, from the Internet to why she and Dean were so close. Dean had walked past one day while she was telling Jack how they'd met, and he had to stop and listen in. It made him smile, hearing her tell the story again, hearing her explain that she knew she wanted to spend her life with him a long time ago. Which was what made it all the more surprising when Dean came home from a supply run to find a yelling match in the war room.
"Jack, he may be your father, but he abandoned -"
"You all got him stuck in that world! He might be dead, just like Sam and Dean's mother!"
"Woah there." Dean jogged down the stairs, but he was too late. A fissure in reality had opened right behind Grace, Jack extending his powers and sending her hurtling into it in a blind rage. "No!" The tear in reality sewed itself up, leaving Grace on the other side. He whipped around to face Jack, his hands trebling in white-hot anger. "No. You are not doing this to me again. You are getting her back. Sam!"