Chapter 7

Serra

I am relieved. Being able to talk about Grace with someone besides the people that share my last name is like having a load lifted off of my shoulders. I have been friends with Alana and Lindsey since med school and I can tell you from experience, they are to be trusted. I figured it was about time to have someone else in our corner in case we ever needed it.

After about an hour of debriefing, Linds and Alana had finally relaxed, sitting back in their chairs and talking with us instead of examining Grace.

"How long have you known?" Alana was asking.

"About two years," Grace answered, now nursing Glory. "Found out accidentally on our honeymoon."

Lindsey glanced at Dean, standing in the corner of the room. "I won't ask." Dean chuckled good-naturedly and nodded. Looking back at Sam, who still rested on the arm of my chair, she said, "Monster hunters?"

Sam made a face, "Saving people," he said.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, Dean continued, "Hunting things."

Together with my sister, we grinned as we finished the phrase, "The family business."

"And you all just found each other? Do hunters usually date and marry other hunters?"

Sitting forward, I decided to tell the story, considering that Grace was terrible at it. She always finds a way to make it sound so less amazing than it is. "The only thing Grace used to be was a psychic. She could touch someone and get flashes of their memories. Occasionally, she would dream about something and it would happen and every so often, she would have a vision while she was conscious." I took my last bite of my cookie and brushed my hands off. "She started dreaming about Dean without knowing anything about him. She was drawn to him, right from the beginning."

Dean smiled, having never really heard the story about how Grace began having dreams about the man she would eventually marry. Not even realizing he was moving, I'm sure, he stepped closer to my sister as I took a breath and smiled. He scooped Glory up out of her arms, ready to burp and cuddle his newborn daughter. Sam did the same, pulling up a chair to be more comfortable. The Winchester men waited with baited breath as I continued.

…

"Serra, I had that dream again," Grace was saying as I stumbled down the steps to breakfast. She was already sitting at the kitchen table, drinking a cup of coffee. One was waiting for me on the counter, still piping hot. It was like she was a psychic or something.

I plopped into the chair next to her with my coffee in my hands, pouring my favorite creamer into the cup and stirring it as she smiled. "Dream? What dream? You have a lot of dreams."

"About that guy I see in the bar," she said, taking another sip and buttering her toast.

I nodded, remembering. "The hottie with the leather jacket?"

"This time I talked to him. I think we're supposed to meet."

Grace was fascinating. Ever since we were kids, she had the ability to just know things about people. The guys I brought home always had to pass the Grace test…and none of them ever did. They were always out to get into my pants, never holding a future with me. The last boyfriend I had walked through the door with me almost a month ago. We had been dating for about six weeks and I decided to have him meet my sister, just to see what she saw. Grace had been sorting laundry and when I brought him into the kitchen to introduce him; she glanced up and shook his hand. She had pulled away almost immediately, looking at me, tilting her head and saying, "No."

That had been the end of that.

"What was wrong with that one? He had such nice hair…and was such a good lay," I sighed as I sat on the couch.

"He was going to break up with you over a text," Grace shouted from the laundry room.

I rolled my eyes. "Fucktard," I said to myself, shaking my head. "What are you doing tonight?"

She came out of the laundry room, carrying the basket on one hip in true mom-form. "I'm going to go find him," she said, smiling. "I have to find him so I can get some fucking sleep."

"You're not sleeping?"

"The dreams are getting so vivid, they wake me up," she said, shaking out a towel. "He's so detailed…he drives a black Chevy and he has a brother. I'm pretty sure he's a hunter too and I'm thinking that's why I am being drawn in so intensely." Grace shook her head, rolling her eyes. "I've become a woman obsessed."

"He has a brother?" I asked, completely ignoring the rest of her comments.

"Back off, horn dog."

"Jerk," I said, rolling my eyes.

Grace didn't hesitate. "Bitch," she said, making a face.

…

"Wait, wait, wait," Sam was saying, bringing us out of my flashback. "You called each other 'jerk' and 'bitch' before we met?"

Grace and I nodded slowly, not understanding. "Yeah, we've said it for years," I said, glancing at him, confused.

Dean and Sam exchanged a grin. "We were fated to be with each other," he said, smiling, pointing at Dean. "He's the jerk."

"You're the bitch," Dean said. "Look at that, the jerks are together and the bitches are together."

Grace giggled from her spot on the bed. "That's pretty funny," she said.

Lindsey shook her head, waving her hands in the air. "No, don't lose focus! I want to hear the rest!" She stared at Grace. "Did you really dream about him?"

She nodded, taking a bite of the sandwich that Dean had brought for her hours ago. "For weeks. I couldn't get him out of my mind."

"It's because I'm so irresistible," Dean said, smug.

I shook my head, "Anyway, she went out that night to find him."

…

"Are you nervous?" I asked, watching Grace get ready in the mirror. "I mean, what is this guy to you? You keep dreaming about him, but why? What if he's some crazy psychopath that is gonna try and kill you."

"I would have seen that, don't you think?"

I lifted my eyebrows, crossing my arms. She was right. Every horrible thing that had ever happened in our family, Grace had dreamed it first. Then, we would always try to change the path. And every time, every fucking time, we had lost. "Alright, so what? What are you going to do once you find him?" I paused and smiled, "Fuck him?"

Grace turned, smiling, "And what if I do?"

"Slut!" I said, dodging out of her reach. "This is a stretch, even for you. A series of visions in order to get laid?" I paused a minute, still laughing, "Although, it has been a really long time for you."

"It hasn't been that long!" Grace said, standing back to look at herself in the mirror. She looked awesome in black leggings and a long cream colored sweater, her green army jacket and her signature rings and long layered necklaces. "Jason was what, four months ago?"

"Seven."

She made a face because I was right. "Fine. It's been awhile, but no. It's not a vision to get me laid." She turned and grinned at me, "Although, he's beautiful. I wouldn't mind."

"I'm sure you wouldn't," I smiled. "Use protection," I sashayed out of the bathroom. I knew she rolled her eyes without even looking at her. She stood in front of her closet and sighed. "What's the matter?" I asked, laying out on her bed, playing on my phone.

She shrugged, "My brown boots are covered in mud from the rougarou last night," she said. "I only have one pair of brown boots."

"Well, whose fault is that?"

Grace rolled her eyes again and put her hands on her hips. "Look, boot hoarder, gimme a pair of brown boots so I can go get laid."

I laughed and rolled off of her bed. "Cowboy or biker?"

"I don't care, pick!"

"This is why you haven't been laid in seven months," I said, heading back into my room. "You only have one pair of brown boots."

"Right. I'll keep that in mind."

She padded down the steps into our living room and I plopped back in front of the open books I had laid out over the couch and coffee table. "Text me," I said, going back to work, "and find out about that brother."

Grace chuckled as she picked up her bag and headed towards the door. "Got it. Love you."

"Love you back."

She didn't know it, but I heard her come home late that night. I stood at the door of my bedroom and listened for a man's voice, but she was there alone. The next morning, when I saw that she was still asleep confirmed what I already knew: she had made contact and it had gone well.

…

"Of course it went well," Dean said under his breath.

I shook my head. "You were a mess, though. The Mark had you by the balls."

Lindsey spoke for the first time in what seemed like hours. She was confused, "The Mark? What's The Mark?"

Dean rolled up his sleeve as I explained, "The Mark of Cain. It was put on him way before we met, by Cain himself in order to kill a Knight of Hell. She was a real bitch, from what I hear. It basically makes him an unstoppable badass and really hard to kill."

"And when you pair her with it," Dean continued, "you create this perfect storm of awesome. She gains power from touching it and helps her heal when necessary."

Lindsey and Alana exchanged glances and Alana raised her eyebrows. "So you are literally the yin to her yang," Alana stated, staring at Dean.

"Yeah, pretty much," Dean said, eyeing my sister. "Red string of Fate."

"It's so romantic," Lindsey sighed. "The last date I went on, he didn't even pay for dinner."

Grace stood slowly, staring at Everett. She glanced over at Lindsey and said, "Yeah, it's all been pretty amazing. The Mark and I also have kind of a downfall, though."

"What kind?"

Everett began to cry, just like I knew he would because Grace knew it was coming. She picked him up and cuddled him against her chest and he stopped crying almost immediately, nuzzling her skin. Turning to face her audience, she glanced at Dean and just barely, I saw him nod. There was something in that nod that I didn't understand, so I listened intently as well. "I've given birth to three kids in less than two years," she said, then pressed her lips together into a tight line.

"Wow, really? That fast?" Alana said, shaking her head. "But what does The Mark have to do with that? I mean, go on the pill or something."

"I was," Grace said quietly. "With both pregnancies."

Lindsey went into doctor mode, asking personal questions that I'm sure Sam was uncomfortable with, but stayed silent anyway. "No human error? Missing pills?" Grace shook her head and Lindsey continued. "So stop having sex."

"Would you stop having sex with him?" Grace said, gesturing to Dean. Both doctors shook their heads slowly, smiling in an obvious sort of way. Alana flushed slightly, suddenly embarrassed when Dean winked at her. Grace slapped his shoulder and he chuckled, moving back towards his window in the corner.

Tilting her head, Lindsey continued as if there was no embarrassment. "Then how do you keep getting pregnant?"

Grace pointed at Dean's arm and raised her eyebrows. "Between this and the fact that I'm half and half, to say that we're not reproductively challenged is an understatement."

I stared at my friends, gauging their reactions. Sammy leaned forward slightly, talking mainly to Dean, but including Grace in the conversation. "Are you done having kids?"

"I think it's safe to say that three is enough, Sammy," Dean said, making a face. Grace nodded behind him, still holding my nephew against her chest.

Alana and Lindsey exchanged glances and I knew they were thinking the same thing. Grace smiled from behind Dean, hearing the doctors' thoughts and I knew that some conscious decision had been made, but I was completely in the dark as to what it was. "What, guys? For those of us who aren't psychics or surgeons, let us in the loop."

Shrugging her shoulders, Lindsey said, "We can have Grace's tubes tied." She glanced at Alana, "We'll write it as a medically necessary procedure and have insurance cover it."

Glancing at his wife, Dean raised his eyebrows. "Tying tubes? What does that mean?"

I was already shaking my head, "It's not gonna work, Gracie," I was saying. I turned to explain to Alana and Lindsey, "She self-heals, guys. Three kids on the pill. The twins aren't even identical. They were two separately fertilized eggs." I took a breath, though it was hard these days with Levi in the way. "You'll do the tubal ligation and in twelve weeks, she'll be knocked up again because one of those buggers got through."

"It just seems impossible," Dr. Lindsey was saying, "tubal ligations are a big deal. I mean, we could always block the fallopian tubes and create scar tissue instead, blocking the path." I was on my feet, striding over to my sister and lifting up her shirt.

"What are you doing?" Gracie asked, trying to pull her shirt back down.

I swatted her hand away, insisting on lifting it enough that she had to move Everett. I pulled the front of her sweats down slightly as well. "Liberty, her first, was a c-section. Does it look like she had a c-section not quite two years ago?" I stared at my sister's stomach and was hit with a pang of envy. Her stretch marks were already fading and her belly was hardly a new mother's belly. I looked up at my audience, saying, "Does it even look like she gave birth four hours ago?"

Alana and Lindsey stood from their chairs and walked towards Gracie, mouths open in shock. Dean took Everett and got out of the way as they approached, staring at her lower abdomen, completely free from the scar that should have been there from being cut open to birth my first niece. It was also the first time I had seen my sister's tattoos in about a year and I took a second glance at them while her shirt was up. They looked faded.

"Did you see this?" I said quietly to Grace, "They're fading away."

She nodded sadly. "I think it's The Mark." She turned around, lifting her shirt to show the swallows on her back as well. "These started after Cas healed me after Crowley. I noticed my sugar skull after I went into labor with them."

Dean moved towards the front of his wife and stared, shaking his head. "I hadn't noticed until now, under the fluorescents." He stared at her, "What does this mean?"

"It means that a tubal ligation won't work on Grace," I said, scolding. "There's no way that her body will allow someone to tie up her fallopians. It's just not going to happen." I gestured to his arm. "And if that fucker has anything to do with it, she'll be pregnant again in a few months, as soon as these two come off the boob."

Grace closed her eyes and shook her head, pulling her shirt and pants back into position. She turned to stare at Glory, asleep in the bassinet and everyone in the room stayed quiet. From her position, with her back still towards us, Grace spoke quietly. "Then take it out."

"Take what out?" Dean said; his voice low and cautious.

Turning back towards us, she shrugged. "All of it. Give me a hysterectomy."

I stared at my sister, open mouthed, shaking my head. "Grace, wait."

"What do I need it for?" She glanced back at Dean who obviously wanted nothing to do with the conversation. "We don't want any more kids, and you know that I'll get pregnant again." She shrugged, "Why not?"

The next conversation was uncomfortable for the boys, so they elected to find us more food instead. Lindsey, Alana, and I tried to explain to my sister about hormones and how out of balance she would be if we had her entire reproductive system removed, but she was resistant to our pleas. An hour and two feedings later, I was pacing around the room, my hand on my lower back because it hurt, yet again.

"Grace, shut up. Just listen," I was saying, "a hysterectomy is a last resort even when you have cancer. The amount of pills you would have to be on to replace your missing hormones isn't worth it. We can find another way." I popped my neck as I turned to face her again. "For fuck's sake, use a condom."

She made another face at me and rolled her eyes. "For the rest of my life? With my own husband?"

"I take it a vasectomy is out?" Alana asked, rubbing her face. "I mean, this is all so weird to me…normally I'm having conversations with people about how to get pregnant, not the opposite."

Grace shook her head. "He'll heal."

We were all at a loss. As she leaned over to stare at her newest children, I stared at her. The sunlight caught my sister's face in just the right way that I could see the details of her face in sharp relief. I couldn't make out any differences in her features since my memories of her in high school. She looked exactly the same. I stood up and walked over to her, taking her chin in my hand. "What?" she asked, frowning at me.

"You don't have any wrinkles."

Pulling her face away from my hand, she shook her head and made a face at me. "Of course I do. I've got the crow's feet and the smile lines," she was saying, gesturing at her face. I shook my head, completely disagreeing with her.

"No you don't. Your face is completely smooth, Grace. It's disgusting."

She moved towards the mirror in the bathroom and inspected herself. "I'm almost thirty-three! I have wrinkles…" Alana stood next to her in the mirror and tilted her head, watching her. "Don't I?"

"I don't think you do," Alana said, mystified.

I came over to them, standing under the harsh light of the hospital bathroom. Though I was more than five years younger than my sister, I looked five years older than her. Her face was porcelain, just as it had been when we were in our early twenties. It's like she had stopped aging at twenty-one. Why hadn't I ever noticed before?

"Because I had wrinkles, Serra," Grace answered my thought, "I did. I know I did."

"You don't now," I said, annoyed. "Really? You get to be taller, you're a nephilim, and you're not aging? What the fuck, Grace? Don't I get anything?"

She was shaking her head, leaning towards the mirror, feeling her face. "I don't understand," she was muttering to herself. "I need to age."

The boys came walking back in, carrying drinks and brown bags, obviously having gone to a burger joint of some sort and were met by the three of us, staring into the mirror. Lindsey still sat, checking her phone, shaking her head at Dean when he glanced down at her. "I don't know what's happening," she said. "Grace thinks she's not aging."

"What are you talking about?" Dean asked, moving towards her, setting the food on the counter. "How can you not be aging?"